Rise of the Undead (Book 4): Apocalypse Z Page 3
“How’s it looking out there?” Nick asked after returning their greetings.
“Quiet, Sergeant. No sign of infected,” one guard answered. “Or anything else for that matter.”
Nick nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He glanced at his watch. “Don’t worry, guys. Your relief will be here soon.”
The soldier nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant.”
“I gave orders for the kitchen to be kept open all night. There will be hot soup and coffee waiting for you when your shift is over.”
The guard smiled. “Sounds good.”
“And two beers each,” Nick added.
The soldier’s expression brightened. “Really? Now that’s a treat.”
Nick shot them a stern look. “But don’t let me hear any stories about misbehavior, alright? Two beers each. Drink it, see in the new year, then get some sleep. Tomorrow it’s business as usual.”
The soldiers saluted with crisp attention to detail. “Yes, Sergeant.”
Dylan couldn’t help but smile at their newfound enthusiasm. It was amazing what the promise of alcohol, no matter how little, could do for morale. Everywhere they went, Nick managed to blow new life into his troops with that small incentive.
She nudged Saul and whispered. “He’s a good leader.”
“Of course. It’s the reason I follow him.”
They watched as Nick inspected the gate and perimeter before talking to the soldiers one last time. It was a familiar routine, one he followed wherever he went. For a leader, he was well-liked and respected by both the men under his command and the civilians. It made things easier for everyone.
“Alright, guys. See you later,” Nick said as he turned away.
“Where to next?” Dylan asked, leaning into his side.
“Let’s check out the last gate, then call it quits,” Nick replied. “I could use a bowl of hot soup.”
Dylan shivered. “Coffee for me, please, and after that, a warm bed.”
“In that case, we’d better hurry. It’s almost three in the morning,” Nick said.
“Just so you know, I’m sleeping in tomorrow,” Dylan said. “Don’t expect me to get up before noon.”
Nick laughed. “Deal.” He nudged her with his elbow. “And, if you’re nice to me, I’ll even bring you breakfast in bed.”
Dylan laughed. “Yeah, right. You can’t cook.”
Nick snorted. “I can. I’m quite good at it too. Better than you, in any case.”
Dylan gasped. “Are you saying my food is bad?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m saying your food is terrible.”
“It’s not!”
Saul cleared his throat. “Not to interfere, but Nick is right. Your cooking is awful. Why do you think Alex and Tara volunteer to make dinner all the time?”
Dylan grumbled for a few more seconds before giving in with a good-natured laugh. “Yeah, alright. I’ll stay out of the kitchen from on.”
“Thank God,” Nick said with a relieved sigh. “Now, we might stand a chance at surviving the apocalypse.”
Dylan punched him on the arm in protest but soon fell quiet as they walked deeper into the night. She stared into the shadows that surrounded them, and a sense of wrongdoing seeped into her veins. Her senses strained to pick up on the feeling, but all she got was silence. Something was off, but she couldn’t tell what.
“Sarge!” a voice called. “Sarge, wait!”
As one, Dylan, Nick, and Saul stopped dead in their tracks
One of the soldiers they’d just met ran toward them, waving a two-way radio. “Sergeant Dean. I just got a message from one of the base patrols.”
“What’s wrong?” Nick asked.
“Gunshots. The patrol heard gunshots.”
“Where?”
The soldier hesitated. “Sergeant, I…”
“Spit it out, man. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it,” Nick said, his tone sharp with annoyance.
The soldier looked at Dylan and Saul. “The shots came from the vicinity of your home.”
Dylan paled. The news couldn’t be worse. Together, she, Saul, Tara, Amy, and Alex occupied the only house on the block. The rest were empty and waiting for new families to move in. If a patrol heard shots near there, it almost certainly came from their home.
She grabbed Nick by the arm. “What do we do? Alex, Amy, and Tara are alone tonight. Sleeping. If someone went in there with guns…” She didn’t want to finish her sentence. Couldn’t finish it.
Nick pointed at the soldier. “Tell the patrol to get their asses over there and find out what’s going on.”
The soldier nodded. “They’re already on their way, Sergeant.”
“Good. Get back to your post until you’re relieved,” Nick said.
“Yes, Sergeant!”
Nick turned to Dylan and Saul, his mouth set in a thin line. “Let’s go.”
He set off at a swift jog with Saul right on his heels. With her heart in her throat, Dylan followed. Fear for her friends coursed through her veins, and for once, she didn’t feel the cold. A silent prayer jangled through her head. Please, don’t let anything bad happen to my friends.
Chapter 4 - Alex
Amy!
Amy, no!
Alex listened to his sister’s cries as she was forced out of the house by King and his men. Tara echoed her distress, and both women sounded terrified. Horror and rage rushed through his veins in equal measure, and his fingers flexed as he tried to push himself upright. He had to help them. He had to do something, but his body refused to respond.
It was no use.
With a groan, he fell back to the floor. His strength leached into the thick fibers of the carpet beneath him, carried on a tide of crimson blood. A blast of cold wind swirled across his form, whistling through the open front door. He hardly noticed. Outside, he heard the roar of two engines pull away from the house.
Silence fell.
Thick and heavy.
It was too late. She was gone. Amy was gone, kidnapped by the worst of humanity, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing but die. I’m sorry, Mother. I made a promise, and now I’ll have to break it.
He knew he was dying. He couldn’t feel his arms or legs anymore, and with each passing moment, he grew weaker. The rage and helplessness he’d felt earlier ebbed away. It didn’t seem quite so important anymore.
Amy was…
Amy was on her own. He couldn’t help her anymore.
There was pain. It burned in his chest like a hot bed of coals, but even that was fading. The beat of his heart sounded loud in his ears, each pump of the great muscle a little slower than the last. The rough fibers tickled his nose, and he wished he had the strength to scratch the spot. Oh, well. At least I’m warm. I never did like the cold.
The icy breeze tugged at his hair and collar, but Alex was unresponsive. His eyes fluttered shut, and his breath rustled over his lips. A thin stream of bloody sputum leaked from his mouth as liquid filled his lungs.
A sharp cry sounded from the doorway. “Alex! Oh, my God.” Footsteps thumped across the floor, and urgent hands tugged at his body. “Alex, it’s me. Dylan. What happened? Where’s Amy? And Tara?”
Alex’s eyes flared open at the mention of his sister’s name, and he tried to form the words. “A….Amy.”
“Shit, there’s too much blood. Why is there so much blood?” Dylan cried as she cradled his head in her arms. “Hold on, Alex. You have to hold on.”
Alex didn’t reply. He couldn’t muster the energy. Instead, he focused on his sister’s face, her blond hair, and blue eyes swimming across his vision. Her smile. The cute little dimple in her left cheek. She had such a baby face. It always caused people to underestimate her. She was a lot tougher than she looked.
Dylan ripped open his shirt, and her horrified gasp was everything he needed to know. He was hurt badly.
“Nick, he’s been shot, and I need to slow the bleeding. Bandages, towels…where is the first-aid kit?”
“There’s no first-aid kit. They emptied the cupboards,” Nick said. “But I found some gauze in the bathroom and a roll of duct tape. A couple of towels too.”
“Thanks, but we need to get him to the hospital,” Dylan replied. “He’s hurt bad.”
“I’ve called for transport, and I’ve sent someone ahead to alert Ethan. Just do what you can for now,” Nick replied.
“I’ll try,” Dylan replied. She set to work on Alex’s injuries, plugging the bullet holes with gauze and tape. Afterward, she wrapped up her handiwork with towels and rolled him into the recovery position. It enabled him to breathe a little easier, but it didn’t change the fact that he was dying, slowly drowning in his own blood.
“Nick, we’d better hurry,” Dylan called, wiping the fluid from his chin. “He’s bleeding out, and I think one of the bullets punctured a lung.”
“The transport is on its way,” Nick said, shouting more orders to the soldiers who’d searched the house.
“All clear, Sergeant. No signs of the intruders,” one soldier answered.
Moments later, Alex heard Saul’s deep baritone. “Tara is gone. So is Amy. They were taken.”
“Taken?” Dylan asked. “Taken by whom?”
“We don’t know yet,” Saul replied.
The man’s voice was remarkably calm. Even so, Alex could detect an undertone of rage beneath the surface. It stirred up his own anger, pushing through the fog that clouded his mind. He mustered all of his strength and whispered. “King. Bannock.”
“King did this?” Dylan asked. “King and Bannock?”
Alex nodded. “Find them. Find Amy.”
He sagged to the floor as the last of his energy fled into the same darkness that threatened to swallow his mind. A thick fog crept over his vision, and he listened to the others argue above his head with growing disinterest.
“Damn it! I knew we should’ve kept looking for them. We gave up too quickly. I’m going to kill those sons of bitc —”
“Calm down, Dylan. We need to think things through,” Nick replied.
“Calm down?” Dylan asked. “Are you crazy? Maniacs have kidnapped my two best friends, and you tell me to calm down?”
“He’s right, Dylan,” Saul said. “We need to think.”
“Alright, fine. Have you thought that maybe they’re still on the base?” Dylan asked.
“Still on the base?” Nick asked, sounding puzzled. “They wouldn’t hang around. Not at the risk of capture.”
“Wouldn’t they? Maybe they’re here for more than just two girls, like revenge,” Dylan said. “And even if they did make a run for it, they haven’t had much time to get away. We could still catch them.”
“She’s right,” Saul said. “The patrol heard those shots barely ten minutes ago. In that space, they had to load up Amy and Tara. Plus, they stripped the house of supplies before they left. They could still be around.”
“Right. I’ll get on it,” Nick said, turning away. The crackle of his radio sounded as he gave the command for all the gates to be shut down and search parties to be formed.
Dylan tugged at Alex’s shoulders. “Don’t you worry, Alex. We’ll find them. I promise. You just hold on, you hear me. Hold on.”
Alex managed a faint nod before closing his eyes. He’d done what he could. He’d told them who took Amy and Tara, and now it was up to them. As much as he loved Amy, he had to place his trust in his friends now. I’m out.
Chapter 5 - Amy
Before Amy could say a word, Tara brought the can of peaches down on the van’s window with a resounding crash. She didn’t stop, smashing the glass over and over again until it cracked and splintered along the entire surface.
Amy winced with every blow, the racket loud enough to wake the dead. She wasn’t sure what Tara’s game plan was but trusted in the other woman’s judgment. Whatever it was, it had to work. She had to get away.
But…you’ll never make it on your own. Not without Tara, a small voice whispered in her ears. Her stomach churned at the thought, but, there was no choice. She was Tara’s only hope. I can do this. I have to.
Suddenly, King slammed on the brakes. Cans of food and bottled water went flying, and Amy was thrown sideways. She hit the far wall of the van with bruising force, her teeth clipping together on the tip of her tongue. Blood washed across her taste buds with its familiar metallic tang, and she groaned as pain shot through her lower back.
Tara had fallen as well but quickly jumped upright with the dented can still in her right hand. “Amy, get up. Quick!”
Amy obeyed, scrambling to her knees. “I’m up, what now?”
“Remember what I said,” Tara whispered in a fierce tone of voice. “When I say run, you run, and you don’t look back.”
“Okay.” Amy readied herself, dropping into a low crouch.
The front doors of the van opened, and King and Perez exited. They walked toward the back with swift strides, their shadows falling across the windows. She shivered as nervous anticipation ran down her spine and coiled in the pit of her stomach. It’s now or never.
The second vehicle was parked not far behind them, idling as it waited for a command from King. Its lights flooded the cab, almost blinding Amy, and she raised one hand to ward off the bright light. With her muscles bunched for action, she waited for the confrontation to come. The rattle of keys sounded, and the door opened to reveal a furious-looking King backed by Perez.
“What in hell’s name do you think you’re doing?” King asked.
“Now, Amy!” Tara cried, taking a wild swing at King. She hit him on the forehead with the can of peaches and landed a lucky blow. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground. Without pausing, Tara threw herself at Perez and tackled him. With a look of shocked surprise, he went down beneath her furious attack.
Amy jumped forward, spurred on by Tara’s brave acts. She vaulted through the open door across the struggling duo. Landing on the snow-covered ground, she glanced over her shoulder at Tara. Despite everything, she still hoped they could escape together. “Come with me!”
Tara had Perez pinned to the ground, but could barely hold her own. Meantime, King picked himself up off the ground with one hand pressed to the knot on his forehead. “You bitch. You’ll pay for that.”
Tara aimed a vicious kick at his knee and scored a hit. As King toppled sideways, she cried, “Run, Amy. I can’t hold them much longer.”
Amy nodded, her hopes dashed.
She was on her own.
Her leg muscles bunched, and she shot into the night. She’d only run a few steps, however, when her gaze fell on the second vehicle driven by Red. She swerved to avoid it, cutting sideways across the road. As she bolted through the yellow beams of the headlights, she caught a brief glimpse of Red’s furious expression through the windshield. The rage in his eyes caused her heart to skip a beat, and she knew he’d happily slit her throat if he had the chance. He slammed his fists on the wheel and bellowed. “Catch the girl, you idiots. Move!”
The passenger door opened, and one of King’s soldiers tumbled out of the cab. In his haste to catch her, he tripped over his own feet and fell face-down in the dirt. The second soldier followed, jumping over his friend and reaching for her with both hands.
Acting on instinct, Amy ducked her head and narrowly avoided his grasp. He swore when he missed her fleeing figure, the tips of his fingers ripping a few strands from her ponytail. With the way ahead cleared of any obstacles, she shot forward like a bullet fired from a gun. Dressed only in flannel pajamas, she fled into the night, driven by fear.
Pumping her arms and legs, she put as much distance between her and the two
vehicles as possible. Stones cut into her bare feet, and the icy wind tore at her exposed skin. With every step she took, fiery pain lanced through her lower back thanks to the tumble she took in the van earlier. Damn you, King.
Gritting her teeth, Amy ignored the sting. The only thing that mattered was escape. She had no real plan in mind. There hadn’t been time to think things through. All she could do was run, each step taking her closer to home.
A quick glance over her shoulder spurred her on to even greater speed. Red was after her, his headlights swerving across the road as he executed a quick u-turn. Within seconds, he came barreling down the lane.
Amy choked back a sob of fear. Her heart hammered in her chest as the truck closed the distance. Panic spurted through her veins, washing away all rational thought. He’s coming! He’s coming to get me!
She had to get off the road, but a thick row of hedges hemmed her in on either side. Red was drawing closer, and she wondered if he’d even stop. Or will he just run me over like a dog?
For a brief second, Amy considered giving up. Maybe if she begged for mercy, Red would let her live. King needed her, after all. He needed her to keep Tara in line. Then Amy remembered the moment King gave the order to finish off her brother. The moment when any hope she had left was crushed.
“Perez, make sure he’s dead. I don’t want to leave behind unfinished business. It’ll only give the girl something to yearn for.”
King was wrong. Killing Alex was a mistake for it gave her something else to yearn for. Revenge. The thought of killing King and Perez caused newfound strength to wash away the fear that threatened to rob her of her mind.
As Red’s truck closed in, Amy looked to the sides for escape. There had to be something. A gap in the hedge. Anything. Her searching gaze found a small hole, and she jumped at the chance. Sharp branches cut into her exposed skin and lashed her across the face as she pushed her way through the thick foliage. She fell to her knees on the other side, breathing hard. Already, exhaustion was setting in, sapping her strength. At least, she didn’t feel the cold. Not yet, anyway.