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Yeoman didn’t have any more paid sick days to use, but he wasn’t going to work. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how valuable money was going to be. A week had passed, and there hadn’t been a whole lot of good news. In fact, every bit of news he had heard was bad except for one. Someone from Japan had shared a valuable document listing special traits possessed by animals that people could strive for. Yeoman hadn’t even thought of electric eels, but there it was on the document. As for the other news, there were reports of people dying to animals every day. India had a severe zombie outbreak. There was a chimpanzee uprising in Africa where a group of chimpanzees raided a human village using tools they had stolen. Someone’s house had collapsed due to giant termites. A small fishing boat was bitten in half off the coast of Australia by an unknown animal. A child died of blood loss in China due to a swarm of giant mosquitoes.
Yeoman exhaled and leaned back. He had saved a sizeable amount during his years of working. He could afford to take a few years off if he sold some stocks he owned, so money wasn’t really an issue for him. However, he was still feeling uneasy. The world was changing way too fast, and he wasn’t sure he could keep up with the changes. People with the zombie genes were being hunted by both their neighbors and the government. Yeoman was glad New York had strict gun laws, but he still didn’t dare to leave his house. At most, he kept his curtains wide open and sunbathed in the patch of sunlight. The last seven days, all he did was drill his katas, research animals, and train Red.
Speaking of training Red, Yeoman was at a complete loss. There weren’t any articles on the internet about training kitten-sized spiders. Yeoman wasn’t even sure if Red had any intelligence, but the black widow did manage to catch a rat. Yeoman was unaware his apartment even had any rats, but lo and behold, there was an immobilized rat inside of Red’s web. The spider was currently in the process of wrapping it up with threads, and it was fascinating to watch. Yeoman squatted over Red, and the spider ignored him, too busy spinning the rat with its legs.
“Place it here.”
“Get into your places.”
Yeoman frowned. There were people standing right outside his door. Vigilantes? People from the government? Whoever they were, they were clearly here for him. He crept over to the hall, trying to stay as silent as possible. However, the floorboards creaked every time he walked. He wasn’t sure how much he weighed after adding on those muscles; his scale had broken when he stepped on it.
“It’s coming. Prepare yourselves.”
Yeoman froze. What were they trying to do? Were they expecting him to go out of his apartment? A delicious scent tickled Yeoman’s nose, and he inhaled deeply. It smelled like bacon. His stomach growled, but Yeoman kept still. If that was all they were going to use to bait him out, it wasn’t going to work. He tilted his head, pointing his right crow eye at the door’s peephole. He might’ve been far away from the door, but he still saw a man holding a fireman’s hatchet. Yeoman wasn’t quite sure what he should do in this situation: go out and fight? Let them break in and fight? After a moment of consideration, Yeoman went back to his room and pulled out his phone.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“Hello. I’m calling about a group of suspicious people blockading an apartment. They’re armed with axes, and I think they’re preparing to break in and kill someone.”
“What’s your location?”
Yeoman gave the operator his address, making sure to point out he was just a neighbor who lived in the same building. He didn’t want the police entering his apartment. What if they decided to enter anyway? Yeoman frowned. He could always escape through his window. It was dark out, and if he flew in the sky, they shouldn’t be able to track him.
“It’s not coming out. Should we break in?”
“No. The doorman downstairs said the zombie hadn’t shown its face in over a week. I don’t believe it can keep on resisting.”
Yeoman scratched his head. Is this how these vigilantes killed other zombies? Lured them out with blood? Yeoman had to admit that whatever they had outside his door smelled delicious, but he was able to reign in his hunger quite easily. Yeoman ended the call with the emergency operator after some pleasantries and waited. He didn’t know how long it’d take for the cops to arrive. They were probably overworked; crime rates seemed to be soaring if he could judge by the headlines on the news forum. Yeoman stroked his chin. If he couldn’t continue being an engineer for whatever reason, he could probably become a cop. Construction sites would love his strength too.
Yeoman shook off those random thoughts and went back to squatting next to Red. The spider was oblivious to the people outside. It was biting the rat, which was completely bound by silk. Yeoman had done some research on spiders. They injected digestive juices into their bound prey, letting the enzymes liquefy the poor creature. Once they were nice and mushy, the spiders drank from the cocoons like how some people drank coconut milk fresh out of the coconut with straws. “What do you think, Red?” Yeoman asked the spider. “If those people break in, should I run or fight?”
Obviously, Red did not respond. There was a knock on the door, and Yeoman turned his head towards it. If those people broke in, he should at least have a weapon to defend himself with. The thing was, Yeoman didn’t really have anything he could use. There wasn’t really a need for weapons in modern-day society before the alien abduction. And after the alien abduction, he hadn’t found anyone who sold swords or spears. Yeoman scanned his apartment before his gaze finally landed on his refrigerator. It could easily be picked up by him, and it was mostly empty, so he didn’t have to worry about wasting food. Yeoman nodded and grabbed a seat, placing it next to the fridge. He sat down and waited, staring at his door with crossed arms.
“Knock again. If it doesn’t come out, we’ll break in.”
There was a louder knock on the door. Yeoman raised an eyebrow. Clearly, these people were determined. Yeoman’s gaze landed on his telephone, and an idea sprang to mind. He had once seen a video of someone playing tricks on telemarketers. Ever since using the scavenger crow gene, Yeoman never experimented with the voice-changing abilities of it.
Yeoman stood up, deliberately making noise. “Who is it?” Yeoman asked, his voice sounding much like a middle-aged woman’s. “Give me one minute. I need to put some clothes on.”
There was a brief silence. It was soon followed by a confused whispering voice. “Are you sure this is the right apartment?”
“The doorman said 9C; this is 9C.”
“Are you sure he said C?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You want to go back down and ask?”
“Hide your axe. What if she sees you and calls the cops?”
Yeoman leaned over, peering through the peephole with his crow eye. He was glad he got them; he was so far away, yet he could still see the details on the man’s face quite clearly. Yeoman wasn’t sure why they weren’t wearing masks or trying to hide their identities. Perhaps they weren’t afraid of the police for whatever reason. “Who are you? What are you here for?” Yeoman asked in the same voice as before.
“We heard there was a zombie living on this floor,” the man in front of the peephole said. “Do you know which apartment it lives in?”
“A zombie?” Yeoman asked, doing his best to sound shocked. It was difficult for him since he had never taken acting classes. Shock was an unnatural reaction for him; even when he had first been abducted by aliens, it had been easy for him to keep a clear head. “That’s horrible! I haven’t seen the neighbors across the hall, room G, I think, in a while. Could it be him?”
“Thank you. We’ll be on our way,” the man said before punching to the side. “Moron. The doorman said G, not C.”
“G, C, they both sound the same,” another voice said. “And don’t hit me like that. Your added muscles hurt.”
No one lived in room G, so Yeoman wasn’t concerned about involving an innocent bystander. However, the silence in the apartment should distract those vigilantes long enough for the police to arrive. Yeoman rubbed his chin. The scavenger crow’s voice-changing ability wasn’t as useless as he first thought. Were there any animals that could change their appearance? Octopuses or chameleons, maybe. If he unlocked their abilities, couldn’t he disguise himself as anyone he wanted? Then again, it would be hard to do that with a pair of wings sticking out of his back. Yeoman’s brow furrowed. Tigers had retractable claws. Could he take the ability to retract and apply it to the wings on his back? Yeoman swallowed. If it were possible, then lots of other crazy things would be possible too. A snake’s venom sacs in his fingers. A spider’s web-weaving parts in his palms. Yeoman shook his head. He’d have to ask the aliens at the end of the next stage. If it wasn’t allowed, it wouldn’t be useful thinking of things like that.
Yeoman went over to his door and pressed his crow eye against the peephole. The vigilantes were standing at the other end of the hall. There were seven of them, and they all looked human. None of them had any wings. They must’ve been optimized if they were brave enough to hunt zombies. There was only one person with a fireman’s hatchet, the rest had blunt weapons—crowbars and bats. A strange expression appeared on Yeoman’s face. Did these people not have jobs? Did they have nothing better to do other than run around hunting zombies? Where did they even get their information from? From their appearance, Yeoman guessed they belonged to a motorcycle gang. By their feet, there was a big plastic container with something red inside of it—some kind of carcass. Even though they were far away, Yeoman could still hear them quite easily through the door.
“Should we break in?”
“You’re always thinking about breaking in.”
“I’m in deep debt, okay? I just want my cut already.”
“That’s not our problem.”
Yeoman frowned. These people were making money off of hunting zombies. Who would be paying them? It was a good thing Yeoman had a trusted advisor in his pocket whom he could consult at any time. Yeoman took his phone out and typed in a simple phrase: make money from zombies. It was a shame his trusted advisor was useless sometimes. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen. The only results Yeoman could find were about movies and people hiring for haunted houses. As an engineer, Yeoman knew there was a problem. Clearly, his search term was entered incorrectly. He tried again with a different set of words: kill zombies for money. This time, he was directed to a mobile game. Yeoman’s expression darkened, and he put his phone away. The easiest way to find out would be to ask the person who claimed to be in deep debt; however, what if the cops showed up? Yeoman was pretty sure the cops would shoot him, and he didn’t want to be shot. He was regretting calling them just minutes ago.
Yeoman sighed. Recently, it felt like he had made a lot of decisions he later went on to regret ever since this alien abduction happened. It was a shame there wasn’t a medicine for regret. Yeoman shook his head and went back to his computer; he had to do more research. He had done some and gotten a few ideas, but it wouldn’t hurt to do some more. He had passed quite a few animal species to reach bears, and he wanted to know if any of them had any unique abilities he could take to augment himself. However, a lot of abilities he found were useless. For example, baboons had extra thick skin on their butts that helped them sit for hours at a time like a built-in seat cushion. Yeoman was a bit intrigued by this ability, but he wasn’t going to pay a thousand points for it.
“We have to go. The cops are coming.”
“Already?”
Yeoman went back to the peephole. The men were packing the container with the carcass, putting it in a black garbage bag. They must’ve had a lookout downstairs to alert them of any police presence.
“You know the drill; split up.”
The group of seven scattered, five heading towards the stairs, two heading to the elevators with the garbage bag. Three of the group of five went downstairs, while the other two went upstairs. To get upstairs, the men had to pass by Yeoman’s apartment. While they were walking past, he weighed the pros and cons of snatching the men. If he took them in for questioning, what was he going to do with them afterward? Release them? He couldn’t kill them, and if he detained them for too long, there’d probably be police coming after him. Yeoman sighed and backed away from the door; this wasn’t the world of The Godking’s Legacy. There were laws in place. People were civilized. There might’ve been a few vigilantes who worked around the law, but Yeoman liked to believe the majority of people were good, law-abiding citizens. He was one of them.
Cody, however…. Cody would’ve kidnapped those people without a second thought, but Cody was Cody, and Yeoman was himself. He might’ve changed a bit thanks to the zombie gene, but he still had his morals. Arguments should be resolved through words, not violence. Justice should be delivered by the courts, not individuals. These were the cornerstones of modern-day society; without them, how were people any different from animals? Yeoman frowned and touched his wing. Perhaps in the future, he’d have fewer human aspects, but he didn’t want to lose his humanity.