Rise of the Undead (Book 4): Apocalypse Z Page 13

  Dylan smiled. “Tara and Amy are nothing to sneeze at either. Those girls are tough. I wouldn’t be surprised if they rescued themselves and waltzed up to the gate as if nothing happened.”

  Nick laughed. “I can picture it now.”

  Dylan joined in his laughter, and it felt good, but she knew she was delaying the inevitable. “Do you still want to know what happened between Ethan and me?”

  “I’m all ears. Lay it on me.”

  Without wasting words, she told Nick about the conversation she’d had with Ethan. By the time she was finished, she felt a bit lighter. Still sad over the loss of a friend, but lighter. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think he’s an asshole,” Nick replied.

  “You do?”

  “Of course. You didn’t know what you were doing, and you had no control over your actions. It was the virus that made you crazy,” Nick said. “He’s got no right to call you a murderer.”

  “Yeah, but ⁠—”

  “There’s no buts about it. If he cared about you, he’d understand. Or, at least, try to understand.”

  “You’re right,” Dylan said.

  “Of course, I’m right,” Nick said, putting his arm around her. “Forget about him. He’s not worth your tears.”

  Dylan nodded. “What about Alex?”

  “Screw Ethan. He might be the boss in there, but I’m still the boss out here. You can see Alex any time you want,” Nick said. “I’ll make sure Ethan gets the message.”

  “Thanks,” Dylan said, leaning into Nick’s side. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’d probably be just fine, which stings a little,” Nick admitted. “But that’s why I love you.”

  Dylan dragged him to a halt and looped her arms around his neck. “I might not need you in my life, but I sure as hell want you in it.”

  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Nick replied. “I’m sure it comes from a movie, though.”

  “It does not,” Dylan protested.

  “It sounds like a movie speech,” Nick teased.

  “Shut up, and kiss me, you idiot.”

  “Now, I know that line comes from a movie.”

  “Argh! Just come here already,” Dylan exclaimed, drawing him in for a kiss. As their lips met, the lingering tension in her body fled. This was where she belonged. This was home.

  Chapter 20 - Amy

  Amy drove for several minutes before she realized where she was going. The Greenfeather home. Despite her decision not to go there, her unconscious mind made her drive straight to it the moment she was distracted. I can’t believe I just took advantage of myself. Sucker!

  She chewed on her lip while she thought it over. Now that she was nearby, she might as well go over and take a look. What’s the worst that could happen?

  Amy snorted. “I could die, that’s what.”

  Nevertheless, minutes later, she rolled to a stop in front of a one-story house in an outlying suburb of Manassas. It looked like it used to be a quiet neighborhood before the apocalypse, and now it was utterly deserted.

  The streets were devoid of life. No cars or bodies could be seen anywhere. The houses were dark and shuttered, and the gardens were overgrown. There was a small park in the middle of the block filled with stark, leafless trees, and a kid’s playground. But the grass was wild and scraggly, and the empty swings creaked in the stiff breeze.

  Amy pulled up the handbrake and switched on the headlights. While the family might be alerted to her presence, she wanted to see what she was getting into. A stone walkway led through the yard to the front porch, and the driveway was empty. Not surprising considering what she was driving.

  Someone, likely the cop, had covered all the windows from the inside with newspapers. A smart move, and she thought she spotted the outline of bars, as well. It seemed he’d taken a great deal of care to keep his family safe. With the area being so quiet, they’d managed to ride out the apocalypse until now. Now, their protector was dead. How do I tell them that? Where do I even begin?

  She was staring at something for a few seconds before she realized what it was. Blood. It was smeared on the white-washed wall leading to the door, and a handprint marred the doorjamb. Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, no!

  Before Amy knew what she was doing, she was out of the car with the shotgun in hand. Her feet carried her over the path and up the steps before she slowed. With the gun cocked and ready, she inspected the door. It was cracked open, and she swallowed hard. That’s not good.

  With the toe of her boot, she gave it a nudge. The door swung wide on silent hinges, and her silhouette fell across the threshold. With the car lights still on, the entrance of the house lit up like a beacon. Beyond that lay the darkness, thick and menacing. A blood trail led toward the shadows, and she wondered who it belonged to. The wife? The kid? A stranger? Please, don’t let it be the kid.

  As scared as she was, Amy couldn’t turn around and leave. The thought of the little girl gave her pause, and she scraped together the remains of her courage. Clearing her throat, she called out, “Hello? Anybody there? I’m friendly, and I just want to talk.”

  Instantly, the heavy thump of footsteps echoed throughout the house, and a tall figure sprang out of the gloom. The light fell across its diseased face, covered in black veins and clotted blood. Long black hair hung down its chest in matted strings.

  Acting on instinct, Amy raised the gun, aimed for the head, and pulled the trigger. The zombie’s head jerked back as the twelve-gauge shotgun shell blew it apart. The blast reverberated through her arms and down her spine, and her ears sang.

  Not wasting a second, she pumped the forearm and shucked the empty shell. With the gun raised to her shoulder, she waited for another attack. Time dragged by, broken only by the sound of her harsh breathing. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and called out. “Hello? Is there anyone else that wants to take a bite out of me?”

  When nothing happened, Amy edged toward the corpse. Illuminated in the car’s headlights, lay the woman from the picture. At least, she thought it was from what little remained after the slug had done its job. A jagged wound on the woman’s throat explained the origin of her infection. It looked fresh too. Maybe a day old, at the most.

  “What happened to you? Did you go looking for your husband? Food, maybe?” Amy asked in a low voice as sorrow filled her heart. “Where’s your daughter?”

  The thought that the mom might’ve eaten the little girl sent a horrified shudder down her spine. Did she even want to look further? Would she like what she found? More importantly, would she survive it?

  She couldn’t risk going into the dark house without a light, so Amy ran back to the car for a flashlight. She switched off the engine and killed the headlamps to save the battery. At the same time, she took a good look up and down the street. While it was the middle of the night, she could see well enough in the moonlight. It was close to a full moon, and the skies were clear.

  Nothing stirred.

  Even so, she needed to hurry. The blast from the shotgun would be heard for miles on such a quiet night. She’d better get out of there fast. Running back up the steps, Amy entered the house again. She stepped around the corpse and moved deeper into the house. As she walked, she called out every few seconds. “Hello, anybody there?”

  Silence.

  The flashlight revealed a scene of chaos: Blood spatters, overturned chairs, broken cups, and saucers. In the kitchen, she found a couple of bloody rags and a pool of blood on the floor. Footsteps led away from it, which lead her to believe the mom had arrived back home injured. After trying to staunch the bleeding, she collapsed and died only to reanimate.

  That still didn’t explain what happened to the kid, until Amy stopped to think. What would I do if my mom became a monster? What would my mom tell me in the moments she had left? She’d say to me to hide.

  Amy walked back to the sitting room and said in a clear voice. “Little girl, if you’re hiding, yo
u can come out now. I promise I won’t hurt you.” When nothing happened, she tried again. “Please, I didn’t mean to hurt your mom, but she was sick. She would’ve killed me. You understand, right?”

  With a sigh of despair, she considered giving up. The clock was ticking and out there, somewhere, a killer was on her trail. Then a thought occurred to her, and she cleared her throat. “I found your father. He wanted me to come here and make sure you’re safe. He sent me.”

  Holding her breath, Amy waited and hoped. After a couple of seconds, she heard something stir, and a girl stepped into the open.

  “Oh, thank goodness. You’re alive,” Amy said with a sigh of relief.

  “My daddy sent you?” the girl asked in a small voice.

  “He did. He wanted me to take you someplace safe,” Amy said, silently praying for forgiveness for the lie.

  “Why? Where’s daddy?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, but your daddy died. Some terrible people hurt him,” Amy explained. “But he sent me to fetch you and take you to a safe place full of good people.”

  “I have to leave my home?”

  “Yes, but only for a little while. You can always come back later,” Amy replied in a soothing voice.

  “What about mommy? I don’t want to leave. I want my daddy,” the girl cried, her voice quivering with unshed tears.

  Amy knew she had to do something fast. While the child was entitled to her grief, now was not the time. Injecting a sense of urgency into her voice, she knelt in front of the girl, and said, “Listen, sweetie. I’m sorry about your parents, and I know you’re sad, but you have to be strong now. Bad men are coming here, so we have to leave. Understand?”

  “Bad men?”

  “Very bad. That’s why we have to hurry,” Amy said.

  “They’ll hurt us?”

  “Yes, just like they hurt your daddy, but I won’t hurt you. I’ll look after you, I promise,” Amy said, reaching out one hand. “Trust me, okay?”

  The girl thought it over before taking Amy’s hand. “O…okay.”

  “Good girl, now tell me. Do you have a backpack?”

  “Yes,” the girl replied, looking confused.

  “That’s great because we need to grab you a few things. Can you show me to your room?” Amy coaxed.

  The girl took her to a small bedroom decorated with glow-in-the-dark moons and stars. “Wow, this is so pretty.”

  “Thank you,” the girl said with a shy smile.

  Amy stared at one wall decorated with the name Jenny, also in glow-in-the-dark stickers. “Jenny. Is that your name?”

  The girl nodded.

  “I like that name. My name is Amy,” Amy replied while stuffing the backpack with as many of Jenny’s things as possible: Clothes, hairbrush, hair ties, a storybook, and a teddy bear. Once it was full, she led the way outside, pausing only to grab a family photo from the mantelpiece. She’ll need something to remember her parents by, poor child.

  Rushing down the steps, Amy bundled Jenny into the backseat along with all her things. After checking that the street was still clear, she said, “Wait here in the car, sweetie, and don’t say a word. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Jenny nodded, her eyes huge. “Okay.”

  Amy ran back into the house with the speed of a gazelle and grabbed the girl’s pillows and blankets. It was freezing outside, and Jenny would need them. Tucking the bedding under one arm, she raced back to the car. As she skipped down the steps, her eyes caught movement further down the street.

  She paused for a split-second. Just long enough to make out three howling figures sprinting toward them. Infected.

  “Crap!” Amy cried, yanking open the back door. She tossed the pillows and blankets inside without ceremony before slamming the door shut. Jumping behind the wheel, she locked all the doors and started the engine. To her relief, it roared to life, and she jammed her foot onto the gas. With a squeal of burning rubber, she raced up the street. Only when she couldn’t see the zombies chasing them anymore, did she allow herself to relax.

  “Whoo, that was close,” Amy cried. “Are you okay, Jenny?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” came the solemn reply.

  “Why don’t you cover yourself in the blankets and try to sleep?” Amy asked. “When we get out of town, I’ll stop and give you something to eat.”

  “Okay.”

  Amy watched in the mirror as Jenny settled herself in for a nap. Once the girl was silent, she turned her attention back to the road. Navigating through the rest of the city proved easy enough. While she did spot the occasional zombie, she was able to avoid them and drive off without mishap. The main problem she had was visibility. It wasn’t easy using only the parking lights, yet every time she became tempted to use the main lights, she’d close her eyes and picture Red’s face. That was enough to scare her back to caution. Besides, it’s not just me now. I’ve got a kid to look after, and I won’t let him get his hands on her.

  With that vow fixed firmly in her mind, Amy left Manassas and headed toward the next town. According to her map, it was called Chantilly. She deliberately chose that route to stay off the highways and away from Washington. Fort Detrick, here I come.

  Chapter 21 - King

  King rapped his fingers on the desk in a futile attempt to contain his rising frustration. His injured knee throbbed, adding to his ill humor. He knew he should be satisfied. The venture into Fort Detrick had been a risky one, and while he didn’t get his revenge, he did capture Dr. Lee. Still, he wasn’t a happy man. Too much was being left to chance.

  “Report,” he barked to the unfortunate West. “Has Red secured the girl yet?”

  “No, Sir. He has not.”

  King sighed. “Is he close to finding her?”

  “Not yet, Sir.”

  “How is that even possible? He’s had the whole damn day to look for her. Did she disappear into thin air?” King mused.

  “Red thinks she found a place to hide during the day and will continue to Fort Detrick tonight.”

  “Oh, he does? How clever of him,” King said before slamming his fist on the table. “Idiot. I don’t pay him to think. I pay him to do. I want results.”

  “Yes, Sir,” West replied, sweat beading his forehead.

  “Oh, shut up,” King said with a dismissive wave of one hand.

  “Perez, what have you heard from our people in the Fort?” King asked, shifting his attention.

  “After our incursion, Sergeant Dean and that foreign soldier Dhlamini questioned all the guards but were unable to get any information. They know there are spies, but they don’t know who it is,” Perez replied.

  “Good. What about the kidnappings?”

  “They sent out search parties but found nothing, Sir. We covered our tracks well. They have no idea where we are.”

  “Excellent. What else?”

  “According to Grissom, Saul and the woman Dylan will lead another search in the morning,” Perez replied. “They plan to branch out in ever-widening circles from the Fort along with other volunteers.”

  King shook his head. “That’s clever, and a problem for us. They could very well stumble across the girl if she makes it that far. What about the girl’s brother, Alex? I trust he’s dead?”

  Perez paled. “I’m afraid not, Sir. He survived and is being treated at the infirmary by Dr. Hayes.”

  King shot to his feet. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “I asked you to do one simple thing, and you can’t even get that right?” King bellowed as rage flooded through his veins.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough. Sorry will get you killed. Do you get that? Both of you?” King asked in a menacing tone of voice.

  “Yes, Sir,” Perez and West answered in concert.

  After a while, King slumped back into his chair with a groan, massaging his knee with one hand. “Listen closely, you two. This is your last chance to get it right. Fail me again, and you will regret i
t.”

  Perez and West drew themselves up in a desperate attempt to look competent. “Sir, yes, Sir!”

  “Tell Red that if he doesn’t find and kill the girl, he’d better not come back here,” King commanded.

  West bobbed his head. “Yes, Sir.”

  “And while you’re at it, tell Grissom to make sure there’s one of ours at every gate. On the off chance, the girl makes it back, I want them to intercept her. They must make sure she doesn’t get the chance to talk to anybody. We can’t risk our whereabouts becoming known. We’ve come far, but we are not ready for a full-scale attack.”

  “What must they do with her, Sir?” West asked. “The other guards at the gates won’t be our men.”

  “Whoever intercepts her can volunteer to escort her to the infirmary. It won’t look suspicious. A young girl like that exposed to the elements and the trauma of kidnapping will need medical care. Once they have her alone…” King drew his finger across his throat. “Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” West replied.

  “And while they’re there, they might as well get rid of her brother too. I will not tolerate any loose ends. No witnesses, either.”

  “I’ll get the message through, Sir.”

  “Make sure you do,” King said before switching his focus. “As for you, Perez. I want you to leave tonight and head to Frederick. Wait until morning, and create a distraction.”

  “A distraction, Sir?”

  “Yes, you idiot. Do something to lure the search party far from the base and keep them off the roads. I cannot allow them to find the girl. She must be silenced.”

  “What kind of distraction, Sir?”

  “Must I think of everything?” King asked. “Start a fire, rig an explosion. Whatever gets their attention.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Even better, once you’ve set the fire or whatever, have Grissom radio through to them. He can tell them that a raiding party or whatever spotted a fire and there might be survivors. They won’t stop to think.” King grinned. “With any luck, the fire will lure a bunch of infected, and they’ll get caught in a trap.”