Rage: Z Is For Zombie Book 5 Read online

Nick, a good fighter, sat in the back, but as the President of the United States’ brother, he might do well with dealing with the re-building of the US Army led by Colonel Davis. He almost frothed at the chance to exact some justice.

  Carl was the eighth member of the team, and he was a bit of a dare devil, way too brash, and a risk-taker, and the one everyone wanted to be watching his back in a fight. His loyalty was unquestionable.

  “There we go,” Carl said as they saw a stalled car in the center of the street. “That’s the car they took when they tore out of Hopetown. Maybe its gas tank was sludged up and quit on ‘em.”

  Both cars stopped, and the teams carefully climbed out, watching all areas for an ambush, careful of shambling zombies, but they heard only silence. The car was sitting alone and abandoned with all four doors flung open. They walked forward with guns at the ready, but inside were three bodies, all dead, and none infected or re-animated. They had wounds: slit throats and stabbed chests, and chewed down-to-the-bone arms and legs. They were partially eaten.

  “She’s vicious,” Len said. The three dead people left the safety of the compound with Carla and Robbie, fearing the infection. The pair was far worse since they were hybrids and were vaccinated against the prion disease that caused the zombie infection. They were not only infectious themselves, but also were immune from most pain, angry at times, dependent on raw meat, and good fighters.

  “When I was out there and met her, we ran into a few people, and Zs were chasing them; she helped fight Zs, and then when two were wounded, she shot one and offered to sit with one and pray and then put him down. She said she buried him. She wanted to be alone with them to supposedly pray with him, bitch. She was so bloody from the fight that I didn’t notice, but I bet she ate him too,” Kim said, remembering. “I didn’t even suspect such a thing about her and the kid. Who knew?”

  “Wow. They even eat infected?”

  “I guess so. I didn’t think of that before.”

  “I’m gonna puke,” Matt said.

  “Yep. Wow. She’s a real bitch: ate them and ate those others, just like the fucking zombies; only she has a working brain, no excuse,” Kim said.

  “She’s worse than a Z,” Nick said. “I wish they would catch her and pull her to pieces. Hell. I never used to say and think things like that, but she didn’t have to do this; she had a choice.”

  “We’ve changed. We have stronger rules now for what is right and wrong. Capital punishment is popular.”

  “That dead cow we thought animals got, guess it was her and the kid, but that didn’t feed them long…wasn’t enough, so they went after that poor man, infected his whole family after they cut his throat and ate him, sick bitch.” Len agreed.

  Johnny nodded. “Andie would have died if Carla had had time to finish cutting her throat. I guess if I can, am forced to maybe kill a good friend if he is infected, then I can sure kill a murderer these days.”

  “Their throats are cut, and they’ve been eaten; it’s a mess,” Matt said as he stepped back from the car, closing the doors on one side. “She wasn’t very grateful for the company, and they were pretty hungry, I guess. How could they just eat people like that? She isn’t a mindless zombie; she did it by choice.”

  “She left us a message…knew we’d be coming for her sorry ass,” said Carl as he showed them the trunk and a message written in the dust.

  There were two words. Carla Hendricks.

  “That was in case we didn’t realize what and who she and the kid are. We’re smarter than she is,” Carl said.

  “No, we didn’t figure it out in time,” Kim said, “We weren’t smart enough.”

  “Wasn’t Hendricks the name of the guy who was one of the first hybrids…like he got the first vaccine?” Matt asked.

  “Yup. Now we know. She must have been right up there as one of the first of Dr. Diamond’s vaccinated.” Kim kicked at a rock in disgust. “She gave us the answer of who she is.” He spat on the ground, feeling nausea roll around insides as he thought about how cold hearted some people could be.

  “Seems like a lot of blood for them to be trailing.”

  Len eyed it curiously, nodding at Johnny. “I think one of them is injured. Good, so much for their thinking they are superman or something. They bleed like everyone else.”

  “I like that,” Johnny said. It is a bad thing when perfectly good people have to fear nuts like these who would do things like this and leave people murdered and rotting in a car. The infection hadn’t made people more evil, but they did bad things because they thought they could get by with them. Seems many didn’t understand justice and accountability for actions. It was supposed to be black and white, right and wrong, bad and good, and people somehow thought that didn’t apply?

  “Let’s trail them and get this done,” Juan said. He was ready to finish the job and get home although he wasn’t sure what home was all about. Johnny switched places with Nick in the vehicle as she saw how stressed Juan was. He was pacing and fidgeting, wringing his hands at times.

  He, like Beth, thought Kim wasn’t returning to the compound although they didn’t fully understand his reasoning. Juan stepped into her life, falling for her and was beginning to raise her adopted children.

  Now Kim was back, and Beth was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. It made it harder that Kim was a good, loyal man that Juan was unable to dislike.

  “Calm down,” Johnny told him, “It’s all okay.” She patted his arm. They had been good friends a long time, and it was difficult to see him so torn up and worried about anything. Who would have known there would be personal drama when they already had zombies?

  “I don’t like leaving Beth alone; I don’t like a lot of stuff. Gee, with all the walking dead, can’t believe I don’t like something, huh?” Juan half-smiled.

  “I know, it’s not easy to deal with, but it’s one of those things we have to deal with in this new world order; nothing’s easy or okay anymore, but we’ve dealt with worse, Hon. You’re both good men.”

  “It would be easier if I hated him, but I like Kim,” Juan admitted. “He is a good man.”

  “All I say is wait ‘til Little Miss has her baby; don’t add to her worries,” Big Bill said. He wasn’t one for a lot of conversation, but what he said made sense. When he spoke, people listened. “You all will figure it out later when that baby gets here safely. Everything works out in the right way if you give it time.”

  “Whoever was injured isn’t in pain, so he is moving fast,” Carl said. “I wish he felt pain like the rest of us. Pain is a good thing, sometimes.”

  “Kinky,” Johnny said, making him laugh. “Naw, I know what ya mean, Carl. I like giving you a rough time.”

  They came along side the rest at a corner pharmacy, which seemed clear of Zs, other than the dead ones that littered the entrance. The ones on the ground were shot, mangled from their transition, and showed torn limbs and rot, but they were finished off and kicked to the side like trash. It smelled bad like the rest of the city. “Keep watch,” Len ordered Juan’s group as the four others went inside the store.

  It was looted long before: of food, water, medicines, and most supplies, but in the center aisle, were an empty roll of tape and an open box of menstrual maxi-pads, amid some blood and footprints. “I think the kid is hurt,” Kim said. “They used the tape and pads to bandage him.”

  A few dead zombies were in another aisle, having been left to rot and ooze onto the floor for months. Other than burning the whole city, no way was available to ever clean up the smell, disease, and germs.

  “No antibiotic creams or water to clean with…no alcohol, so they stopped the bleeding, but that’s not really good enough. It’s quite a bit of blood really. Someone is gonna be in real trouble in a little while. That was smart to use the pads, impressive.”

  Kim knew that and agreed with Len since he had lived as a prisoner of an opposing, radical army: did not have proper medical supplies and had infections in his wounds. “So where would y
ou go if you were Carla and had a injured kid and were a hybrid?”

  “To hell,” Len quipped.

  “Hybrid, oh, no, they are just vaccinated, normal people who don’t get infected, never mind they carry the infection, can make other people zombies, and eat healthy humans because they get hungry, just like a frigging zombie.” Matt rolled his eyes with his sarcastic statement.

  “Freaks. Monsters, worse than zombies.”

  “Well, if I were a freak and hurt, I’d go join the other freaks,” Nick said with a shrug and a chuckle.

  “Yep, the rag tag remains of the US Army that made them; that makes sense,” Len said. “Who else would want them?”

  He got together with them, and they took some time to reason out a plan and contingency plans, as well, that made sense under the circumstances, suggesting possible outcomes.

  They skirted the city, trying to avoid the hordes of zombies but still saw many groups of them. They estimated that the number in and around the city had to be close to a hundred thousand by now as the creatures hunted out survivors, hiding in houses, churches, and other places. They were followed by the moaning of the undead, since at times, they needed to get more supplies.

  Survivors from the east, west, and north often came through the city as well, instead of taking the long way around and were attacked in their travels. Eventually, some of these would converge on the compound and would have to be dealt with.

  Len wasn’t overly surprised to see the small group of military-styled soldiers waiting for them on Interstate 30. He was surprised to see the two tanks they acquired, but they didn’t look to be in great condition quite yet.

  “Hello there.” Len grinned. “What a nice greeting party.”

  “Colonel Len Bernhart? I’m Sergeant Ed Myers. Can we hear who the rest of the gentlemen are?”

  Len was impressed that people knew him by sight now. “Kimball, Matt, and Nick. Is there a reason you have guns on us?”

  “We have orders to bring you in to meet with Colonel Davis and Dr. Diamond and others.” His voice dropped on the last two words. His eyes slid to the side, telling Len something was off.

  “The Colonel wouldn’t have guns pointed at us.”

  “No, but he isn’t in charge, now,” Ed Myers spoke quietly.

  “You could have sent us an invitation,” Len said.

  Myers didn’t look amused. “The Colonel expected you, so we were sent to meet you and bring you in safely. They want you to be safe, above all. He is trying to keep order here.”

  “I guess we’ve been safe enough on our own,” Kim said. “But if you all think you could do better than we have in combat, all the same to me.” He found the former a strange thing for the man to have said. It was almost cryptic.

  “We’ll have to ask for your guns. They will be returned when you leave.”

  “We didn’t take your guns when you came for a visit; what makes you think you can take ours?” Matt asked. Sometimes, he sounded just like Len.

  “The tank pretty much ensures it,” Myers told him.

  “I doubt it is even running, but we’ll play along.”

  They handed over their guns. When one of the men stepped forward for a weapons search, Len grinned, “If you feel real lucky, then try me, but I’m betting I can break your neck before your buddies get a shot. Your call.”

  “It’s okay. We’re all friends,” Myers said, calling his man back. “If you’ll get into the trucks, we can head that way.”

  Nick and Kim got in one and Len and Matt in the other. None of them talked much, but Len chattered to them anyway, remarking on various landmarks and things he saw. “Hey, are you guys hybrids? You got the infection in you?”

  “Do I look like a zed?” one remarked.

  Len shrugged, “Dunno, kind of, around the eyes, you do. You have that dumb look.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Stand down, soldier. Colonel Bernhart, I was warned that you have a wicked sense of humor. I can see that now. Please try to be calm and polite.”

  “Awe, you flatter me; I doubt anyone said it that nicely.”

  Myers finally laughed. “No, it was something along the lines of your being a smart-assed prick, but I think he meant it as complimentary.”

  Len laughed hard.

  The new army, run by the leaders of the RA, was headquartered at the airport; it was well set-up with scavenged military supplies and hundreds of people busy at work. Len purposely looked bored as he stepped out with the other men, pretending to stifle a yawn.

  “Colonel Bernhart, Len, thanks for the visit,” Colonel Davis said nervously. He looked embarrassed to have lost his power over the army.

  “Hi, there, Davis,” Len said. He introduced the men with him. “Wow, you sure have the windows on this place shining and clean; you’ll have to share with me how you do it: vinegar and newspaper? I need your secret.”

  He enjoyed the annoyed glances he got. No way was he going to let them see he was nervous or worried; he was going to play off the cockiness as long as he could. He saw that the other Colonel wasn’t his usual self-assured self but seemed nervous. It made Len curious.

  “Welcome to our compound. We just wanted to meet with you and settle some issues I think you have with us,” Davis said. “Before we move on, we can watch the men training.” The look he gave Len was a warning that Len didn’t understand.

  “Great. Maybe we’ll get some tips on training.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Oh, so you are aware, ”Kim said off-handedly. “You may notice that your favorite right hand man, Ponce, and a few others were missing tonight at check in. I don’t want you to worry; we met up with them….”

  “And?” Davis again looked concerned, which was not his usual.

  “If we don’t return to our friends, they’ll blow their brains out,” Kim said with a yawn to match Len’s. “I do like the shiny windows, too. We do need to get that secret,” he added, off-handedly.

  They ignored the jaw clenching around them.

  “Well, that’s fairly extreme; we’re all on the same side. We wish you no harm,” Davis said, repeating Myers. The tone and words made Kim and the rest frown. What was going on? This was not like the man they met before who was self-assured and warm.

  In an open area outside, a man was drilling others in technique. He stopped as the group appeared and turned to look them over. He almost smiled as he recognized Kim.

  Kim felt his stomach drop. Long ago, this man with a razor wire tattooed on his arms and neck stood in the hospital with the survivors, shooting and killing several, humiliating all he could, then escaping to join with some more rebels who ended up killing and eating people.

  They hadn’t managed to catch him back then, so Len fed two of the man’s followers to the zombies to mimic the rape, torture, and murder they committed. It wasn’t something Len took pride in having done, but he went over the edge, watching a friend dying of bites from the zombies used to torture information out of him.

  It was Frank.

  Beside him stood another person they knew: a man named Roy who wore yellow-tinted glasses like Hank Williams, Junior, and was a racist, a sarcastic hindrance part of the time, and who almost had to have a zombie and bombs land on him before he believed they were real. Sometimes, he was a good helper in fighting the threats they found in the rubble of the hospital where they all hid. Roy had once ‘kind of been one of them’ when they were in the hospital, when he wasn’t making racist remarks to most of them, and wasn’t making gay-bashing remarks to Alex.

  “Are you sick?” Frank yelled to one of the men training with him.

  “No, Sir. Just a touch of the flu is all. I’m okay, Sir.” He was surprised to hear the leader ask him about his health. He showed some symptoms, but he was okay.

  “Stomach and sinuses?”

  “Yes, Sir.” He looked shocked that Frank even noticed him, wondering why suspicion was on his face. He wasn’t acting sick; in fact, he acted as fit as every man
there; he was feeling even better today.

  “Have you been wiping your nose?”

  “Yes, Sir. No, Sir. Sir, I’m feeling much better.” The boy wondered what this was all about.

  “Bloody nose? I’m pretty sure I saw blood.”

  “No, Sir.”

  “I saw the blood.”

  “No, Sir, nothing like that with me.”

  “You saying that I’m a liar? Or that I’m imagining things?” Frank demanded. His eyes glittered dangerously, but he was enjoying himself in front of his audience.

  “No, Sir. I don’t have a bloody nose.”

  “So you’re saying I made a mistake? I don’t make mistakes.”

  The boy didn’t know how to get out of this.

  “Is this the beginning of the Flux again: the virus that killed off fifty percent of my country? Are you carrying a contagious virus?”

  Men around the boy stepped back; the mention of Flux was frightening, even now. No one wanted to be around the hemorrhagic virus that piggybacked the prion disease, which caused people to become zombies. There weren’t any new cases since the outbreak, months before that took so many, yet that didn’t alleviate the fear.

  How could anyone forget friends and loved ones contacting the virus: blood from every bodily orifice, vomit, the diarrhea, and coma, and then awakening to zombie-hood.

  With no hospitals or rescue stations functioning past the first one percent of infection, everyone bled, died in his homes, and then got up to chase down family and consume them.

  “I think you have the Diamond Flux.”

  “No, you’re wrong; I don’t….”

  “I’m what?” Frank asked quietly. “Do you know what that constitutes, telling me, a commander, that I am wrong? Tell him,” he demanded of another man.

  “It constitutes treason, Sir.”

  “Penalty?”

  “Death, Sir.” A slight hesitation came from Michaels.

  “Take care of it, then.” Frank was impatient. Seconds ticked by. “Is there a problem?”

  “Ummm.” Michaels now hesitated as the boy began to cry, not bothering to reach for his own sidearm.

  “I ain’t sick, and you know I ain’t,” the boy said. “This is wrong; it’s murder is all.”