THE OTHER BREED OF MONSTER By Craig Young
December 22, 2012 Short stories Tags: Craig Young
Judy Whittaker poured herself a serious brandy. All right, she knew she probably shouldn’t, but this case had aroused some old demons. Outside, the night shone with the images of the reclaimed Hague, its spires and skyscrapers, a familiar sight for sore eyes and an acheing heart.
She was conflicted, no doubt about it. She had been Hal’s disciple, back in the days when they were campaigning against the decriminalisation of assisted suicide back in the ‘Teens, when the latter issue had caused the use of referenda for public opinion purposes to boomerang and hit the evangelical community solidly on its ass. Of course, with the Zombie War, that debate had been well and truly lost across most of the western world now. Most jurisdictions there had decriminalised euthanasia as a response to pharmaceutical shortages and triaged medical care.
She’d lost her faith somewhere in the process, but at the same time, she’d gained some kudos as an international prosecutor in the aftermath of the Zombie War. It’d helped to salve the other loss. She still had an image of her husband and little boy in her wallet, even if creased and lost colours had intervened as the years had accumulated.
Hal. What do you say to an old friend who tried to betray the human race? Of course, he wouldn’t see it like that. And she thought she knew why. Oh, she knew what the Net called him- “the Other Breed of Monster.” Person Zero had stimulated several hundred acts of sabotage and combatant and civilian deaths from those acts, because of Hal’s movement for “zombie personhood.”
She hadn’t seen Rochelle Cantwich with her husband, and in the course of researching the case, he’d found out why. ‘Shell had been caught in Dallas in a Christian music studio making a single with her rich, honey-laden voice, and Hal had watched as a zed bit deeply into her arm. And then, in a matter of minutes, her face and body had discoloured as her mind rotted and instinct took over, her eyes had become white and opaque to light, and her teeth were bared in a mindless snarl of aggression and hunger.
But Hal didn’t see it that way. Of course not, how could he? They’d been together for the best part of twenty five years, and she’d fought off breast cancer with her husband’s love and heartfelt assistance. Theirs was true, heartfelt love and it was all the more senseless and barbaric when shambling, corrupted parodies of humanity had torn them apart. After that…
Why couldn’t anyone else see? It was Shell. She was the reason why Hal had perhaps gone a little mad after he’d lost the woman he’d loved so much. He had been unable to admit that his wife had died in a very real sense after the zombie bite had obliterated her consciousness and intellect, and killed Shell. That thing wasn’t Judy’s cousin and Hal’s beloved wife. It was an animated corpse.
Hal Cantwich hadn’t wanted to admit that. He still wanted to believe that some vestige, some fragment of that beautiful woman with her nightingale voice still resided inside the broken, wild-eyed thing that had lurched down the Dallas street toward him…until the sniper fire had ended its temporary existence. But Hal had only seen Shell and had screamed and yelled at the rooftop sniper, until a burly marine had stepped in and plunged a hypo into his shoulder.
After that, he obviously hadn’t let go. He’d covered it up with political polemic and religious rhetoric and pretended that there wasn’t any personal motivation for his betrayal of humanity to the zombies. He had refused to talk to anyone about the frozen heart at the core of his being and soul and the fissures in his mind that really motivated him. But…
But, of course, they did. And that meant that when the International Criminal Court offered her the prosecutor’s position, she knew that she was the best person for the job. Despite Hal’s past friendship and despite her own acheing void inside at the loss of Rochelle too, Hal’s actions had caused death and destruction on a massive scale. She’d listened to the testimonies from the New Zealanders who’d lost their sons and daughters at the climatic battle of One Tree Hill and the fall of Auckland.
She finished her brandy, wiped away a tear, gathered together her case notes and the expert evidence, touched up her mascara and lipstick and steeled herself for her part in Hal’s trial, as head prosecutor.
When she walked into the court room, Hal lost his composure for an instant as their eyes met. Then the moment of sanity and human connection faded, madness took over again, and the man who’d married her beloved songbird cousin and shared her struggles with her was lost.
Three months later, after he’d been extradited back to the United States to await the judgement of the ages, she’d watched his death sentence carried out on CNN and gotten blind, raging drunk that night, mourning for two lost friends and everything that she’d lost.
I like where this could be as part of a larger storyline outside of WWZ proper (easily second-tier canon), but it’s not as fleshed out as I’d like to read it. What exactly had he done? I love mystery, but this is too much of a good thing. The characters are very believable and the story is well-told, though.
Comment by Moo on December 22, 2012 @ 12:52 pm
Sorry, should have included a prefatory note that this is intended as a prequel to my earlier story “Cult,’ elsewhere on this website. You might want to read that first.
Cantwich was a religious zealot who believed in ‘zombie personhood’ and argued that people of faith should commit civil disobedience against those who believed in taking the lives of zombies, through sabotage.
Comment by Craig Y on December 22, 2012 @ 4:19 pm
Having read much of your other work as well as “Cult” I found it easy to re-up on the story. As a whole the story is inspiring and I have enjoyed watching your work mature. I can see how someone coming in halfway through might get a little confused, and perhaps somewhere in the title or a header to the story it might be explained this is a continuance. I enjoy the political aspect of your work as it is a subject often dodged amongst writers and when expounded upon often dull, however yours delves into the interesting and well written. The one thing I personally would like to see over the course of these stories, is a little more character creation. I now have a very good feel for the religious and political state of the world your stories exist in, but I have a hard time seeing the people. Given that it is third person, perhaps a little detail here or there in each story could not only give us a better idea of the individual, but also give us something to look for in the following installments, like an Easter egg. This is of course my own opinion and you are doing a great job as is.
Comment by Ike on December 23, 2012 @ 11:49 am
Couldn’t the defense have argued that he was clearly insane? Highly delusional and highly dangerous, you could have put in a bit of courtroom drama in there to flesh him out a bit more since he was very interesting as a character and at the same time complete the existing sociopolitical climate of their era.
Still it was a very engaging story.
Comment by bong on December 23, 2012 @ 2:15 pm
Keep em coming!
Comment by Gunldesnapper on December 26, 2012 @ 7:40 am
Poo … now I’ll have to read ‘Cult’so it al makes sense : )
Comment by Jasmine on December 26, 2012 @ 11:30 am
This is well done and part of a rather complex larger work – but I like the excerpts from a post-WWZ perspecitve, the aftermath, the repurcussions, where like from the perspective of the book people are looking back on how humanity behaved, individuals and en masse, when facing the crisis – as we know, it wouldn’t all be pretty….
An insanity plea? Hmmm ~ I think the survivors, those who held it together when the world went insane, those that had to watch how the behaviors or the wackos – those too weak to face the new reality – resulted in the death of so many who otherwise would have survived, I think there’d be a very low tolerance, perhaps a much higher bar, for the insanity plea….
Comment by JohnT on December 26, 2012 @ 12:44 pm
I hope I got across that while Cantwich might have had a psychotic break due to his wife’s turning, his actions led to untold numbers of deaths due to his refusal to acknowledge the tragedy in his life and move on. And was he insane all the time, given what he planned?
Still, thanks for the feedback, everyone. Always appreciated.
Comment by Craig Y on December 26, 2012 @ 3:03 pm
Another excellent installment. A little short for me but if put in perspective with the others it works out just fine. I agree with John about the point of view of seeing the world after it all happens. Can’t wait for the next one.
Comment by Terry on December 28, 2012 @ 9:07 am