Zombie Warfare: Impact Series - Book 3

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Zombie Warfare: Impact Series - Book 3 Page 11

by Craig Halloran


  Nate backed off and turned away.

  “Say your prayers then, Rabbit,” Walker said, “this might sting a little.”

  Don closed his eyes.

  Ka-Blam!

  CHAPTER 23

  -Location Unknown-

  Charles brought five new images up on his monitors, overlooking various angles of another lab. Zombies, ten of them, filled the room. They stood solemnly with wires and small hoses running in and out of their arms and necks. WHS workers, dressed in casual clothing and lab coats, zipped their stiff forms into the Z-Suits one at a time. A backpack was harnessed to each zombie’s back and connected to the straps and hoses around their necks. They looked formidable. Frightening. Even without the skull helmets.

  “I should be there,” he said to himself. And he would be if they insisted, but here, he was protected. The top dog in the science department. A man protected inside his abandoned fortress. “Remember, it’s only a test run. Just needs to be a successful one.” He panned through the zombies.

  They were all above average in height. Men with sturdy builds. The gray and camo Zombie Suits made them look big and dangerous. The helmets, the metal skull faces, were dropped over their heads and latched to their backpacks. A modification Charles had added so they wouldn’t fall off. No, he wanted his soldiers to be unstoppable.

  He adjusted his headset and took the mute off his mic.

  “Jake, get one of them weapons ready.”

  “Alright.”

  “And take him to the range.” He pulled up another image on Monitor 4. A dark-complected man sat at a desk, his straight dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Are the Mall Creepers ready?”

  “Two dozen of them are prepped and ready.”

  “Good,” Charles said, “I’ll let you know when.” He switched Monitor 4 to a scene in the mall. Creepers traipsed everywhere. Many of them now time bombs. A large tablet with condensed XT Serum waited to be released inside each of their stomachs via radio signal. It would make them ravenous. That was the first capsule, but there was another that would null the effects of the Dew formula by spreading a virus that killed the sugar loving antibodies and endorphins in their bodies. No, these zombies would be different. There wouldn’t be any Zombie Dew to save mankind this time. At least that was Charles’s hope, but the zombie chemistry was still unpredictable.

  “Ah, it’ll still be fun to torment those college kids. Spoiled brats.” He turned his attention back to Monitor 4. Jake and some others had led a Z-Soldier into a small shooting range inside the mall. “Be a shame to accidentally shoot some of them. Hee-Hee.”

  He watched with intrigue. The Zombie Soldier walked over to the table and picked up a loaded pistol. Blam. Blam. Blam. Blam… Started blasting into the ground. Jake and the assistants started running.

  “Who’s operating that zombie!” Charles cried.

  …Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Click. Click. Click.

  “Sorry,” a voice fired back. “Not on me. That’s the zombie. He’s got in itchy trigger finger. Ah, there, I think I’ve got it.”

  Charles turned to Monitor 5. A man stood on a treadmill in a blue body suit with small yellow balls all over it. It was the same technology they used in video games and for making live movie animation. It was good, just a little catchy getting it synced into the zombie’s nervous system.

  “Can you load another clip?” Charles said.

  On Monitor 5 the man started walking slowly on the treadmill. On Monitor 2 the zombie bumped into the weapons table. Its hand fumbled around with the pistol until the clip fell out. It grabbed another clip and tried to feed it in. It was ugly. Finally it slipped in and locked tight.

  “Charge it,” Charles said.

  It took half a minute.

  “Damn! This is not good.”

  “It’ll get better,” the man on the treadmill said. “How about some more shooting?”

  “Fine,” Charles said.

  The zombie raised its arm and aimed it at the silhouette.

  Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! …

  The zombie popped the clip out when it was finished. Jake appeared and reeled in the target. The bullet holes were all over the black silhouette and not all fifteen shots were there either.

  “I’ve seen worse from people,” Jake said.

  Charles grunted. They’d made great strides with the Zombie Soldiers but they were far from military ready yet. Months away, maybe longer. He wasn’t so sure the top brass in the WHS would be happy with that, but he’d give it a go anyway. Besides, so far as he could tell, the zombie was probably a better shot than him.

  “I want five soldiers with pistols. 2 each with full fifteen round magazines. The other five need assault rifles. 30 round magazines. And make sure those rifles don’t have safeties and aren’t set on auto. Else they’ll blow all their ammo in seconds.”

  “We doing this now?” Jake said, turning to face the camera. “We still have to get the lockers in the mall set. And what about the new guy? The Python. What are we doing with him?”

  “Don’t worry, Jock Head,” Charles said, typing on the keys. “Just get the Z-Soldiers ready. This drill shouldn’t take too long once the hunt begins. Just make sure everyone, and I mean everyone, is ready. This is going to be huge.”

  Bzzz. Bzzz.

  His cell phone vibrated on the table. He snatched it up. Read it.

  Report in.

  His heart jumped. It was WHS Headquarters.

  “I’ll check back,” he said to Jake, jerking off his head set. “What do they want?” he said to himself. He logged off his computers. Screen savers of zombies came up.

  They called him at the oddest times. Every time something exciting happened. He updated them on all his progress, but they always seemed to be one step ahead of him. He swore his place wasn’t bugged. At the same time, there was no reason to believe they wouldn’t see everything that he did. His network was only as secure as his employers. Still, he’d like to have some privacy to himself.

  He punched the keys into the remote computer from earlier. The silhouette of a man came into view.

  “Yes?” Charles said. He wiped his sleeve over his sweaty lip. “I’m here.”

  “Report to Facility 105.”

  “Uh, me?”

  “Helicopter is on the way. Sixty minutes. Have security escort you to the pad.”

  “But … what about … Who’s going to—”

  The screen went blank.

  A chill went through him.

  No. No. No.

  He sauntered through his lab. He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready for people. And who’d take care of his zombies? He unshackled Steve.

  “Sorry, Bud. Orders are orders.”

  He led him through the lab and into a large walk-in freezer. One by one he shoved the rest of the zombies that lay on their gurneys inside as well. He waved at Steve.

  “Num. Num.”

  He closed and locked the door behind him. Sagged against the door. He didn’t want to leave. He did want a seat at the table, but not literally speaking. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. He twisted off the cap, popped two small capsules and took a deep breath.

  Damn.

  CHAPTER 24

  -Morgantown, WV-

  Two hours after the tour of their new accommodations, tensions subsided, slightly. Tori kept away from Alice and Alice stayed away from Tori. Henry’s chest felt tight, but he could breathe easier. He sat inside the commissary, elbows on the table, yawning. The room had a checkered floor and orange wall with vending machines all around that were free.

  Rudy sat at another table with Weege, crunching chips, talking and laughing. Alice sat with her arms folded over her chest, frowning and rolling her eyes. Henry ignored what they were saying. He was concerned with other things. The interns. They were a quiet bunch. About ten of them were in the room, in three small groups, huddled together. Some were in zombie makeup, others were with
out, or not finished yet.

  “Doesn’t this give you the willies?” he said to Tori.

  “I don’t know,” she said, sipping her soda, “I’m not sure I can even get them anymore, since I’ve been creeped out so many times.”

  Henry yawned again. Took a sip of his coffee.

  “It’s like a zombie college dormitory. But the food’s a little better.”

  “It’s always better when it’s free.”

  He heard some snickers and eyed the table of zombies. A bunch of guys were gawking at Tori.

  “I wish they’d let us in our room. It’s taking too long for them to brief us.”

  “Well, they probably have zombie maids dressing the room.”

  Henry picked the brownish lettuce off his sandwich and chuckled.

  “They’re probably fixing this commissary food too.”

  “You’re smiling,” Tori said, thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen that in a while. You know, you’re a lot more handsome when you smile.”

  Henry bobbed his head and his face flushed a little.

  “Really?”

  She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Really.” She placed her hand on his thigh. “And when we get our room I’m going to make you smile some more. Make this lousy world melt away from your mind.”

  “Uh …” Goosebumps popped up all over him. “If you say—”

  “Who’s Bawkula?” A gruff voice interrupted.

  A tall woman built like an ostrich stood in the doorway. She reminded Henry of the girls’ gym teacher back in middle school, minus the grey sweat suit and whistle.

  “You inturds,” she said, “Get in makeup and get the hell out of here. We don’t pay you to snack and peek at the newcomers. This isn’t a rest home for jackasses. Move it!”

  The interns, all ten of them, cleared off their tables and dumped the mess in the trashcans. In seconds it was as if they’d never been there.

  “What are you gawking at, Fuzzy Face?” the woman said to Rudy. “You Bawkula?”

  Rudy shook his head. Pointed at Henry.

  “You’re a big help, Flounder.”

  She walked over to Henry and extended her hand.

  He got out of his chair and took it.

  “I’m Dr. Deidre. But you can call me Dana.”

  She was taller than Henry, long necked, strong gripped and with short frosty hair. Not ugly. Not pretty. An open lab coat revealed her blue blouse and her black slacks.

  “Nice to meet you. This is Tori.”

  Dana nodded at her.

  “Alright, come on now. All of you. That means you too, Prissy,” she said to Alice.

  “What for?” Alice said, remaining seated.

  Weege’s eyes widened. He whispered in Alice’s ear. Worry filled her eyes. She popped out of her seat and followed along.

  “Up here with me, Bawkula,” Dana said.

  He fell in step beside her.

  “You’ll be supervising them,” she said, jutting her thumb backward. “I’ll be supervising you.”

  “Alright,” Henry agreed. It was pretty clear by her tone that these arrangements weren’t optional.

  The room she led them to had been another department store. Modular furniture with low walls built into offices. Each office was big, computerized with large monitors on the desks. A few heads popped in and out of their cubicles. Fingers tapped gently on the keyboards. The overhead lights were many but dim.

  “These will be your hidy holes, for now. We’ll start you out in Observation. It’s not fun work, but it’s a paycheck. Then we’ll ease you, Bawkula, into the labs where they do all the stuff I don’t understand. Not that I couldn’t. I’m more or less a sports freak. You ever play ball, Bawkula?”

  “Sure, basketball.”

  She raised her brows, slapped him on the shoulder and squeezed it.

  “Great. Perhaps we’ll have a little one on one later. We got a half court in the other quadrant.”

  He looked back at Tori. She was hiding a laugh behind her hand.

  Henry’s mind started doing a rotation. I’m here to watch zombies shop in the mall. My boss is an Amazon. My co-workers are college students dressed up for Halloween. I feel like I haven’t slept for a week. He wanted to ask more questions, but he feared they might offend her.

  “Uh,” Henry said, “so who’s in charge when you’re not here?”

  She pointed at Alice.

  “Not my call, but I’ve got orders too.” She looked at Henry. “You might have already figured it out, but I used to be a soldier. Got shrapnel in my leg from a peacekeeping mission in Afghanistan. I’ll tell you more about that some time.”

  She turned, backed up and faced everyone.

  “Listen up. I run the show here. I make sure these interns do their thing, don’t get silly, and go home. We don’t fraternize with them.” She eyed Rudy. “They do twelves and go home. You don’t walk, talk, eat or drink with them. Back there, in the commissary, won’t happen again. They know the rules. They fool with you or you them, they’re out a good job and a scholarship.”

  Henry wanted to rip his hair out. How much more money would they pour into these monsters? Why didn’t they just kill the damn things? The world has gone mad.

  “I’m sure it’s been a long day,” Dana said, rolling her neck. “But there’s one more thing I want to show you before we let you take a load off in your rooms and prepare for a fresh start tomorrow. Follow me.”

  She led them into a large conference room where a large illuminated floor plan of the mall was built into a long rectangular table. Several areas in the mall were lit up in red, yellow, green, purple and blue.

  “Green – lavatories. Red – exits. Yellow –food stations. And purple,” Dana said. “Care to guess what purple is?”

  “Ice cream station?” Rudy said.

  “No, Flounder. Not Ice Cream. Ammo. Weapons. You didn’t think we’d host zombies without adequate back-up, did you?”

  Henry felt an inward sigh. No one wore any weapons, aside from Jake. At the rehab he was used to having a six gun on his hip at all times. Shot guns were everywhere too. But it felt good knowing they took precautions inside the mall.

  “Can you handle a weapon, Bawkula?”

  Singled out, he shrugged and said, “Sure.”

  “I bet,” Dana grinned. “Anyway, the interns are dark on this. Most of these Zombie Hipsters haven’t even touched a weapon. Probably rather be eaten than shoot a zombie anyway. Bunch of pusses.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the lockers only respond to thumb scans, in case there’s a breakout. That said, we have WHS Security here. Plenty of them. Good men. You met Jake when you came in here. Good man and there’s never been an incident. Never will be either.”

  Everyone shook their heads. At Henry’s side Tori yawned. Everyone’s eyes seemed blurry. The pressure started to ease.

  “Any questions? Alright,” Dana said, “Let’s get you to your rooms then.”

  The followed her out, through the offices and past an unmoving escalator.

  “I thought the rooms were upstairs,” Henry said to Dana.

  “They are, Bawkula. What’s the matter? You got something against elevators?”

  “No,” he said, letting her lead the way.

  She stopped at another Security Door, scanned her thumb and watched it pop open. Another security door with a red / green light was at the end.

  “After you,” Dana said, holding the door open. “The elevator’s up ahead.”

  They filed in.

  “Ah,” Tori sighed, “I can’t wait to get out of these heels and lie down in bed. Say, we’ll need our stuff by the way.”

  “Oh yeah,” Henry said, turning back to Dana. “What about our—”

  Dana disappeared behind the door that was closing shut. She tossed a metal canister inside. It clanked over the floor to a stop.

  “What is that, Henry?” Tori said.

  “Huh?”

  White smoke started billo
wing out of it.

  Everyone but Henry screamed.

  Choking and coughing, everyone scrambled. Henry pounded on the door. His vision blurred and the world turned to white roses as he fell.

  CHAPTER 25

  -Washington, D.C.-

  Don jerked in his seat so hard he fell over in his chair. Ears ringing, his eyes fluttered open. Walker stood over him with his gun barrel smoking. A smirk was on his face.

  “Am I dead?” he sputtered through his heavy mustache.

  “The dead can’t talk,” Walker said. He shoved his pistol into the holster. “And zombies can’t either.”

  Don pushed himself to his knees and crawled back into the chair. Wincing, he checked the nasty bite mark on his arm.

  “Patch that up,” Walker said to Ashley.

  Don’s heart pounded in his chest.

  “Patch it up? That won’t help. I’ll still turn. Just kill me, man, kill me,” he pleaded.

  “You aren’t going to turn into a zombie,” Walker said.

  “Hold still,” Ashley said. She ripped his sleeve off. “Ew, it is a nasty bite though. It wouldn’t be so bad, but that sagging skin and those wrinkles.” With nimble fingers, she cleaned the wound and then wrapped him up and taped him off. She looked Don in the eye. “Don’t ever hit Louie again.”

  Don swallowed.

  “Okay, Miss. Can someone tell me what’s going on? Look, I’m broken. I can’t take any more of these games. You win. Am I going to die today or not?”

  Nate shook his head. Rubbed his beard.

  “No. You see, Don, we know a little something about zombies the WHS doesn’t know. At least we don’t think they know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you remove the saliva glands of the zombies, they aren’t infectious anymore.”

  Don’s mouth fell open. His wheezing stopped for a moment.

  “You mean, the boy, Louie, isn’t contagious?”

  “He’s as harmless as a bumble bee,” Walker said. “Well, he still has his teeth. But he can’t spread the virus.”

  Don wanted to hug them. Praise them. He felt more alive than he’d ever been. His mouth opened to a smile, then returned to a frown.

  “What are you going to do with me if you aren’t going to kill me? I’m just a liability.”

  “Would you rather be an asset?” Nate said.

  “Asset? Ha, you know you can’t trust me,” he said.

 

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