Scavengers: Collection - Books 1-4 (Zombie Gentlemen) (m/m zombie steampunk erotic romance) by K.A. Merikan Page B
Authors: K.A. Merikan
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Barnett’s quiet advocacy of Johners.
“Oh come on now, Hurst!” one of the older Lords said, accompanied by some other men. “Its the nineteenth century! We are not living in the middle ages anymore!”
“I just want to raise the issue,” murmured James, pouting a bit.
“You are only saying that because you live far away from their district, Lord Meldrum!” exclaimed Juanita, “But you certainly would not employ one of those people!”
“Or allow your daughter to marry one, right?” James smiled with a bit of satisfaction, straightening his back and walking behind the professor.
His opponent drew in a deep breath, speechless for a short moment. “I would not, because she will marry her social equal! You know very well a shopkeeper or sailor wouldn’t be good enough for her either!" he spat.
“I’m sure the men we recruited are quite well adjusted to polite society!” the young professor said, trying to lead them further down the corridor. He sped up to open a large, wooden door. “I think you will want to use this menthol salve under your noses,” he proposed, opening a small jar and smearing a little over his upper lip.
Why? Does it smell of ‘Jew’? James thought, but managed to keep it to himself while doing as the professor suggested. The salve stung his skin but it was bearable.
A thin hand brushed along his cheek. “I hope I can count on your help in case someone doesn’t know how to behave in the presence of a lady,” he heard Juanita’s suggestive voice.
James smiled, but fortunately Lord Meldrum was the first one to say: “Absolutely. I would not let anyone disrespect you, Lady Shelley!” His voice eager, even though they were on different sides when it came to discussion. James knew the older man was a widower, but apparently, Lady Hunt was not interested, as her delicate arm encircled his own.
“That is too kind, Lord Meldrum. Thank you.”
The professor pretended not to listen and led them through a reeking corridor. James tried not to think about the cause of the putrid smell, but in those times, hardly anyone was spared from encountering human cadavers. “The morgue is to our left, hence the smell,” he explained, leading them to a large door on the right. “This is the so called ‘Great Prosectorium’. Several autopsies and surgeries can be performed at the same time,” he said with enthusiasm, leading them to a large hall with tall, narrow windows, which reminded James of a chapel. From wooden beams hung banners depicting human body parts, cross-sections and skeletons. On the wall opposite them, there was a long, wooden plaque with the motto of St Catherine's: "A conscious mind knows no boundaries".
There were several operating tables made of shiny steel, large enough for a few people to use at once, each equipped with a standing lamp resembling a giant rotten flower. Its thick shaft was made of dark wood and strengthened by several iron braces. Black cables grew over it like a wild creeper, going all the way up to the massive circular shade hanging over the tables like over mature fruit. Two moving bodies laid on the tables, tightly bound with steel cuffs and leather straps.
Lady Shelley made an inarticulate noise and held onto James a little stronger as if fainting. He felt sorry for her and patted her hand in a delicate manner as they walked along the long wall.
“Is this how you keep them?” James asked.
“Oh... no,” the professor shook his head, “they are kept in a special cage, but tomorrow’s anatomy class starts at six in the morning, so we prepare the specimens the day before.”
“Will they not get free somehow?” asked another member of the group.
“Oh no, that is out of the question”.
“Unless some ungodly man frees them,” Lady Shelley whispered.
James did have to nod at that comment. He was all for experiments and developing medicine, but the undead, in the center of London made him nervous. Even now, after a month had
“Oh come on now, Hurst!” one of the older Lords said, accompanied by some other men. “Its the nineteenth century! We are not living in the middle ages anymore!”
“I just want to raise the issue,” murmured James, pouting a bit.
“You are only saying that because you live far away from their district, Lord Meldrum!” exclaimed Juanita, “But you certainly would not employ one of those people!”
“Or allow your daughter to marry one, right?” James smiled with a bit of satisfaction, straightening his back and walking behind the professor.
His opponent drew in a deep breath, speechless for a short moment. “I would not, because she will marry her social equal! You know very well a shopkeeper or sailor wouldn’t be good enough for her either!" he spat.
“I’m sure the men we recruited are quite well adjusted to polite society!” the young professor said, trying to lead them further down the corridor. He sped up to open a large, wooden door. “I think you will want to use this menthol salve under your noses,” he proposed, opening a small jar and smearing a little over his upper lip.
Why? Does it smell of ‘Jew’? James thought, but managed to keep it to himself while doing as the professor suggested. The salve stung his skin but it was bearable.
A thin hand brushed along his cheek. “I hope I can count on your help in case someone doesn’t know how to behave in the presence of a lady,” he heard Juanita’s suggestive voice.
James smiled, but fortunately Lord Meldrum was the first one to say: “Absolutely. I would not let anyone disrespect you, Lady Shelley!” His voice eager, even though they were on different sides when it came to discussion. James knew the older man was a widower, but apparently, Lady Hunt was not interested, as her delicate arm encircled his own.
“That is too kind, Lord Meldrum. Thank you.”
The professor pretended not to listen and led them through a reeking corridor. James tried not to think about the cause of the putrid smell, but in those times, hardly anyone was spared from encountering human cadavers. “The morgue is to our left, hence the smell,” he explained, leading them to a large door on the right. “This is the so called ‘Great Prosectorium’. Several autopsies and surgeries can be performed at the same time,” he said with enthusiasm, leading them to a large hall with tall, narrow windows, which reminded James of a chapel. From wooden beams hung banners depicting human body parts, cross-sections and skeletons. On the wall opposite them, there was a long, wooden plaque with the motto of St Catherine's: "A conscious mind knows no boundaries".
There were several operating tables made of shiny steel, large enough for a few people to use at once, each equipped with a standing lamp resembling a giant rotten flower. Its thick shaft was made of dark wood and strengthened by several iron braces. Black cables grew over it like a wild creeper, going all the way up to the massive circular shade hanging over the tables like over mature fruit. Two moving bodies laid on the tables, tightly bound with steel cuffs and leather straps.
Lady Shelley made an inarticulate noise and held onto James a little stronger as if fainting. He felt sorry for her and patted her hand in a delicate manner as they walked along the long wall.
“Is this how you keep them?” James asked.
“Oh... no,” the professor shook his head, “they are kept in a special cage, but tomorrow’s anatomy class starts at six in the morning, so we prepare the specimens the day before.”
“Will they not get free somehow?” asked another member of the group.
“Oh no, that is out of the question”.
“Unless some ungodly man frees them,” Lady Shelley whispered.
James did have to nod at that comment. He was all for experiments and developing medicine, but the undead, in the center of London made him nervous. Even now, after a month had
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