Rise of the Undead Box Set | Books 1-3 | Apocalypse Z

by Higgins, Baileigh

  Dylan didn’t even acknowledge him, and a frisson of fear worked its way down his spine. Something wasn’t right about her. Was she having an episode again? He remembered what she’d told them about her last one, and he decided he didn’t want to risk it. “Why don’t we stop and stretch our legs. I could use a quick break.”

  “But, it’s raining,” Amy protested.

  “It stopped awhile ago, Sis. Besides, I really think we should stop,” he said, throwing meaningful looks at the still eating Dylan.

  Amy’s eyes widened as she caught his drift. “Okay, sure.”

  He pulled over, and after a careful look around, he got out. Dylan stayed in her seat, occupied with her chips. Amy sidled up next to him and whispered, “It’s an episode, isn’t it?”

  “I think so. We’d better put her under.” Alex pulled out a vial of the tranquilizers. With Amy’s help, he drew up a syringe. Just enough to knock out a grown man, not enough to kill her. She’d be stronger than most humans and resistant to the drug because of the virus. He’s learned that much from the army.

  He was about to get back into the car and stick it in her arm when a low growl sounded behind him. The hair on the back of his neck rose. “Amy. Get in the car.”

  “But⁠—”

  “Now,” he commanded.

  She slipped away, and he waited for Dylan to make her move. A crunch of gravel was the only warning he got before she tackled him from behind. She hit him like a ton of bricks, and they both went down hard. His teeth slammed shut, and blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue. Bitch.

  Crazed or not, she was going down. He’d managed to keep hold of the syringe, but the real problem was keeping her teeth out of his flesh. She snapped at his neck, getting a mouthful of leather jacket each time. Working one hand underneath him, he bucked his hips violently and tossed her into the air.

  Dylan was thrown to the side where she landed with a yelp of surprise. He launched himself across her body, pinning her to the ground. She wriggled like a worm on a hook, growling the entire time.

  Alex searched for a patch of open skin to stick the needle in, but she didn’t give him a chance. Her one hand shot free, and she raked at his scalp with her fingernails, drawing blood. Alex yelled in pain, unable to get up for fear she’d get a bite in.

  Suddenly, Amy was there. She grabbed Dylan’s free hand and yanked up her sleeve. “There! Do it now!”

  Alex jabbed the needle into Dylan’s exposed forearm and injected the tranquilizer. She snarled, her struggles growing worse for a brief moment, and he hoped the medicine was strong enough. “Please work. Please work.”

  It did.

  Bit by bit, she quieted. The growls ceased, replaced by soft mewls. Her muscles slackened until she lay like a rag doll, and her eyes drifted shut. Within seconds, she was fast asleep, her breath whistling in and out of her lungs at a rhythmic pace.

  Alex slumped with relief. “Thank God.”

  He eased himself off her, wincing at the fresh pain in his side. The struggle had torn open the wound, and it was bleeding all over again. “Ah, crap. Look at that.”

  “It’s okay,” Amy said. “I’ll patch you up quickly, but we’d better get to the Fort. You both need proper attention.”

  “Agreed,” Alex said, heaving the limp form of Dylan into the backseat. “The sooner we get there, the better.”

  After Amy performed her magic, Alex hit the road again, propped up by another shot of painkillers. These weren’t strong enough to knock him out, just dulling the worst, so he was able to function.

  They’d gone past Radcliff, and he took the road leading to the Fort. He was wondering what he’d find there when he spied a barricade across the way. Not just any roadblock. An army blockade complete with tactical vehicles including a light tank and a small building to the side. A high, chain-link fence stretched into the distance on either side, and gate blocked the way through. Floodlights brightly lit the entire area, and armed guards patrolled the area.

  Alex slowed, approaching the waiting soldiers with caution. They watched him come closer, their rifles held across their bodies in a position of readiness but not an outward threat.

  One approached his window and asked in polite tones. “Can we help you, Sir? This is a private military institution.”

  “I…um…I thought this was a safe zone? For civilians?” Alex asked.

  “Are you seeking entry?” the soldier asked, staring into the car at Amy who watched with wide-eyed wonder.

  “Yes, we are,” Alex answered.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Alex Donahue, nobody special, Sir. This is my sister Amy,” Alex said.

  “And that?” The soldier pointed at the snoring Dylan, his mouth quirking at the corners. “She’s real tired, isn’t she?”

  “Actually, we found her in Louisville, where she helped us out. Her name is Dylan. Not sure of the last name.”

  “Are any of you injured? Infected with the Vita virus?” the soldier asked.

  Alex hesitated. Now that they were here, he wasn’t so sure of their reception. “I’ve been stabbed, Sir.”

  “Stabbed?”

  “Yeah, a couple of guys tried to rob me.”

  “I see. Anything else? And you might as well be honest. Lying won’t get you anywhere,” the soldier said.

  “It’s the girl, Dylan. She’s infected, but we have her tranquilized as a precaution,” Alex said, hoping he hadn’t doomed her. “We heard you have a cure here. Is that true?”

  “Where was she bitten, and how long ago?” the soldier asked, ignoring Alex’s question.

  “On the arm, and it was about a day and a half ago,” Alex said. “Thirty-five hours, or so.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Yes, Sir. She told us all about it,” Amy interrupted.

  The soldier smiled. “Well, she’s in luck. If she’d gone over forty-eight hours, it’d have been too late.”

  The soldier pointed at the massive steel gate. “Go on through, but be warned. Once you’re inside, you’ll have to give up all your guns and supplies. No hoarding. We share everything here. Got that?”

  “Yes, Sir. I understand.” While Alex didn’t relish giving up his weapons, Dylan needed that cure. If that was the price they’d have to pay, so be it.

  The soldier tipped his head and stepped aside. “Welcome to Fort Knox.”

  Epilogue - Dylan

  “Aren’t we having fun yet?”

  “Lemme go, lemme go. Please!”

  Dylan laughed, her gaze flickering to her victim’s throat. It looked soft and inviting. Vulnerable. With a growl, she lunged forward and sank her teeth deep into his jugular. Blood squirted into her mouth and washed across her tongue. Hot, fresh, and oh so delicious.

  Her eyes drifted shut as ecstasy overcame her, and she sucked down deep mouthfuls of the warm fluid. Her victim thrashed beneath her, his horrified screams turning into gurgles as his life left him in a crimson stream.

  Dylan’s eyes snapped open when he stilled, and his struggles grew weaker and weaker. She tossed him aside like a rag doll, one hand wiping away the blood that ran down her chin.

  She turned in a slow circle, surveying the field she stood in. Corpses lay strewn around her feet. More than she could count. Their empty eyes stared sightlessly into the distance. The grass swayed in the breeze, tipped with red.

  A field of blood.

  A field of death.

  Movement caught her gaze, and she whirled to find Ethan standing a few feet away. He pointed an accusing finger at her. “You did this.”

  “No.” Dylan shook her head in a futile denial.

  “You’re a monster.”

  “No!”

  “A cannibal.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

  “A zombie!”

  ***

  “Wake up, Dylan. You’re dreaming. Wake up!”

  An insistent hand shook her shoulder, and she shot upright with a gasp. Sw
eat poured from her brow, and her shirt clung to her damp skin. Shirt? No. It wasn’t a shirt. It looked more like a hospital gown.

  She twisted from side to side, taking in her strange surroundings. She was lying in a bed tucked into a small, curtained cubicle. It smelled of antiseptic, and everything came in shades of white.

  White curtains, white tiled floors, white linen, and a white doctor’s lab coat. The doctor in question stepped closer, holding a clipboard. “Calm down, Dylan. It was just a nightmare. You’re safe now. I promise.”

  Dylan blinked. “Safe?”

  “Yes. I’m Dr. Tara Lee, and you’re in the infirmary at Fort Knox. You came here seeking the cure.”

  “The cure?” The fog cleared from Dylan’s head, and she nodded. “Yes, the cure.”

  “How did you hear about it, if I may ask?” Dr. Lee said.

  “I found it written on a note among my friend’s things. She wanted to bring her boyfriend here, but they…they didn’t make it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “You’re lucky, you know? If you’d arrived a few hours later, it would’ve been too late,” Dr. Lee said.

  Dylan frowned, focusing on the doctor’s face. The woman was of Asian descent, both exotic and beautiful. “What do you mean, too late? I still had time left.”

  “Not quite. The cure needs to administered before the infected subject reaches the forty-eight hour mark. Otherwise, the damage to the brain is too severe, and the virus’ control too advanced to reverse.”

  “You mean the psychotic episodes?” Dylan asked.

  The doctor nodded. “Exactly. I’ve tried it on a few patients who were over the threshold. None of them survived.”

  Tara lifted her arm and stared at the fresh bandages that covered the bite wound. The black veins that used to mar her skin was gone, at least, and she wondered what the wound looked like. “How bad is it?”

  “It isn’t pretty. The surgeon had to cut away much of the necrotic tissue and skin. He did the best he could, but you’ll carry the scar forever.”

  “I see.”

  “You will have full use of the arm, however,” the doctor said in placating tones.

  “That’s okay. It’s a small price to pay. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Dylan said.

  Dr. Lee nodded. “Not only that, but you are also immune to the infection now.”

  “Immune?”

  “Yes. You can’t be reinfected. You’re body has formed antibodies against the virus. You’re one of only three people I know of who won’t succumb to the zombie bite.”

  Dylan stared at her in wonder. “Just three?”

  “Yes. I only recently perfected the formula. We had a lot of failed attempts before that. You’re our third success story.”

  “You invented the cure?” Dylan asked, staring at Dr. Lee with admiration.

  “Yes, I’m a virologist, and I’ve been studying the outbreak for months now. With the help of a couple of other scientists here at Fort Knox, I managed to formulate a cure. There were a lot of hiccups, though. Especially in the beginning.”

  “The others died?”

  “Unfortunately. Someone leaked the story onto the Internet that there was a cure before it was ready yet, and a lot of people showed up looking for help. That must be how you’re friend learned of it.” Dr. Lee’s expression was one of sorrow. “I wanted to save them all, but I couldn’t.”

  Dylan felt a stab of sympathy for the scientist. She knew what guilt felt like. The weight of it on one’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you did the best you could.”

  “It wasn’t good enough,” Dr. Lee said. “But thank you for saying so.”

  They stared at each other for a second, a strange feeling of fellowship growing between them. Dylan found it odd. She rarely connected with others, especially strangers. Yet, in the past few days she’d met not only Ethan, but Alex and Amy too. It seems the apocalypse makes for strange bedfellows.

  Dr. Lee broke the silence first. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re doing well. You should get some rest. You’re friends will be allowed to visit you soon.”

  “Friends?”

  “Yes, you came in with a young girl, and her brother?” Dr. Lee said.

  “Oh, yes. They’re okay? Alex was hurt,” Dylan asked.

  “They’re just fine, both of them. The surgeon cleaned up the wound, and he’s healing well. I’ll tell them you’re awake.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dr. Lee turned to leave when Dylan stopped her. “Dr. Lee.”

  “Yes?”

  “Who is the other two?”

  “Other two?”

  “The other two who survived?”

  “Oh. One is a little girl. She came in a week ago with her parents. They live here on the base in the civilian quarters. The other is my friend, Saul Dhlamini.”

  “I see. Thank you for saving my life, Doctor. I’ll never forget it.”

  Dr. Lee smiled. “It was nothing Dylan.”

  “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, let me know,” Dylan said.

  “I will. Thank you for the offer.”

  Dr. Lee ducked through the curtains, and Dylan was left by herself. After a few minutes, she dozed off, only to come awake with a start when Amy barged. The girl was a whirlwind of happy chatter and girlish squeals.

  “Dylan, you’re awake!”

  “I am now,” Dylan said with a groan, but she was secretly happy to see Amy.

  “Wow, you look awesome. Much better than before. You’re very pretty, you know, with the red hair and all.”

  “Who’d have thought.”

  “No need to be grumpy. I brought you something. Are you hungry?” Amy asked.

  Dylan perked up. “I’m starving.”

  Amy frowned. “Starving as in normal hungry, or starving as in you want to try and eat me again.”

  Dylan gaped at her. “I never tried to eat you.”

  “Yes, you did. Or my brother, at least. You did try to eat him.”

  Dylan fell back onto her cushions with a groan.

  Alex arrived to save the day. “Come now, Amy. Don’t tease Dylan like that. She’s had a tough time.”

  “I was just joking with her,” Amy said. “Here’s your treat.” She handed Dylan a polystyrene cup with a plastic spoon sticking out of mound of vanilla ice cream.

  Dylan stared at the offering. “They’ve got ice cream here?”

  “Yup, they’ve got everything here as long as you’re willing to follow the rules and do your chores.”

  Not wasting a second, Dylan grabbed the cup and stuck a huge spoonful into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she moaned. “Mm, that’s delicious.”

  “Better than Alex you mean?” Amy asked with a wicked grin.

  “Ugh, you little brat,” Dylan cried, throwing a cushion at the giggling girl.

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Kids. Seems I’m stuck with both of you.”

  Dylan snorted. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Oh, come. You know you like us,” Amy said.

  “Huh. Maybe just a little,” Dylan relented, warmth spreading through her chest.

  If this was the apocalypse, then maybe it wasn’t so bad. It sure beat what she had before.

  Amy stuck out her pinkie. “Friends?”

  Dylan eyed the proffered hand, recognizing it for what it was. An offer of true friendship. She curled her pinkie around Amy’s and shook on it.

  “Friends.”

  The End.

  Apocalypse Z - Book 2

  Chapter 1 - Dylan

  It was quiet inside the room.

  Too quiet.

  Dylan stared at the ceiling above her head, counting the minutes until morning. She couldn’t sleep, despite the drugs that flowed through her veins. While under quarantine, the doctors took care to keep her calm and sedated. They were afraid of possible side-effects to the cure or even a relapse.

  She didn’t mind, at first. Not while her broken
body knit itself back together. But now, it was becoming a bore, and she still had two whole days to go. There was little to occupy herself with, and visiting hours were restricted to two thirty-minute windows per day. Besides Amy and Alex, the only other people who dared enter her room was Doctor Tara Lee and Doctor Knowles. Tara was nice enough. A bit formal, but at least she could hold a conversation. Dr. Knowles, however…now there was a man born with a stick up his ass.

  She supposed it was a blessing that she had the place all to herself. No coughing, groaning, or snoring interrupted her sleep, and yet tonight, the silence felt threatening. Faint moonlight streamed through the blinds that covered the single window, casting the room in shades of silver and gray. But the light couldn’t reach everywhere, and there in the corners lay the darkness.

  She stared at one such a corner, her mouth dry with fear. The blackness pulsed and grew, reaching out with quivering tentacles to feed on her weakness. To her drug-soaked brain, it looked like a crouching beast ready to pounce on her shaking form.

  “Oh, come on,” Dylan muttered. She’d never been afraid of the dark. Ever.

  With a determined grunt, she tossed aside her blankets and walked toward the small cubicle that formed a bathroom. It boasted a washbasin and toilet — nothing else.

  After emptying her bladder, she washed her face and hands with soap. The cold water revived her senses, chasing away the fog caused by sleep and drugs. Dylan stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked awful. Her hair desperately needed a wash, and deep shadows rimmed her eyes. During her trip and illness, she’d lost a lot of weight, and it wasn’t pretty. Her bones jutted outward from her ribs and hips, while the fat had been chiseled from her cheeks until she resembled the Grim Reaper himself.

  “Man, I’d kill for a smoke.” The urge for a cigarette hit her out of nowhere, and she tried to remember when last she’d had one. Back in Springfield, maybe? “Too long. I might as well give it up now.”

  On a whim, she decided to take a shower. Grabbing a towel, soap, and toothbrush, she walked across the room and knocked on the door. “Nurse! Are you there?”

  After a few seconds, the sharp clicking of heels on the tiled floor announced the arrival of the night nurse accompanied by a security guard. The lock clicked, and the door swung open to reveal a middle-aged head woman with a dour expression. “Yes? Can I help you?”