Zombie Slayer Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-3]

by Katz, Gayle

  The guys stopped laughing.

  “Why do you want that?” asked the first guy. “That stuff is dangerous.”

  “Yeah, we don’t deal in that,” said the second guy.

  “I have money and can buy it,” she explained. “Oh, and it’s for a friend, not me,” she added.

  “Oh right, everyone buys for a friend.” He put stress on the word friend.

  “Right, so do you have what I want?” she asked.

  “Depends,” the gangster said, shifting position in his seat.

  “I have the money,” she said.

  “It’s two grand for a finger,” he replied.

  “A finger?” she asked. “For real?”

  The guys laughed.

  “That’s what they call it. Not really though. Stan, go and get her stuff.”

  The other guy left the room muttering. “I told you not to mention my name, geez.”

  He came back shortly and handed a plastic baggie to her. Inside were several smaller bags.

  “This looks like enough for a year,” she commented.

  “Just take what ya need,” he said.

  “OK, I think three should suffice.”

  “You sure? It’s highly addictive.”

  “Not for me,” she said again.

  “OK, only $1,200 then.”

  “Fine,” she said, tossing the cash on the table, getting ready to leave.

  “Nice doing business with ya,” they called out to her.

  She left the building and headed back into the alley. She felt pleased with herself. She lifted the bag in the air and examined it.

  She was nearly at the street when someone stomped up behind her and punched her in the head. She dropped to the ground.

  Chapter 4

  ________________________________________

  Charlie mentally berated herself for being so careless. She immediately rolled to the side, away from her attacker. By the time she had jumped back up, she had her dagger out.

  In front of her was a zombie. Its arms were spread out. His hands reached for her. She took a step back and had a look at her surroundings. That was odd. Where did he come from?

  She walked the perimeter, seeing if there were any other zombies around. As she walked, the zombie followed her around the alley. She inspected the dumpsters, but they seemed surprisingly innocent of victims. She was done and was about to turn back to the zombie when she heard a gunshot.

  Charlie dropped to the ground, and then crept across the gravel to hide behind a trash can.

  “It’s OK,” a voice called out. “I got him.”

  Charlie peered around the can. It was one of the drug dealers, Stan, she thought his thug friend had said. Behind him, the zombie was lying on the ground.

  She came out, still clutching her dagger. “Thanks, but I had things well in hand. I was searching the alley for others.”

  “Obviously,” he said, leering at her. “Still, can’t let these bastards on the loose.”

  She crept closer to him. While his hair was unkempt and his clothes were wrinkled, he was relatively clean. His pupils were huge though, indicating that he had been indulging in some sort of drug or recreational pharmaceutical.

  “Thanks, then. Say, why kill him? Don’t your partners use them to make the zrug?”

  “Yeah, of course,” he said, scratching his head. “Doesn’t mean that I agree with it. I’m low on the totem pole. I’d just sell weed if it were my decision.”

  Charlie gave a half smile. “Of course,” she replied.

  “Hey, you’re no druggie,” he commented. “So, why you here?”

  “Well, the truth is that I’m a zombie slayer,” she said. She wasn’t sure why she shared that info, but something told her that this guy was OK, and he might have more information that she needed.

  “Ah, I see!” he replied. “Still, why buy the drugs?” he frowned at her.

  “What do you think?” she said, flinging her arms out, palms up.

  “You a cop?” His eyelids squeezed together, noting she had no track marks on her arms.

  “Nope. My quest for drugs is strictly related to finding the zombies.”

  “Oh. OK. You’re not going to shut us down then?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I personally don’t care what you do, but these zombies could infect the entire city. I can’t leave one living.”

  “Good, I’m that way too.”

  “So, I’m gathering that the zrug isn’t made here then?” she asked him, putting her dagger back into her back pocket.

  “That’s right. It’s kind of hard containing these guys.”

  “So, any help here please? Where is the facility that makes the drugs?”

  “Well, I don’t really know. The plastic bags just get delivered to us.”

  Charlie was firm. “Is there a way you can find out?”

  “I can try and see what I can find out. Come back again tomorrow night.”

  Charlie frowned. It appeared that she wasn’t going to get any downtime or any nights off this week.

  “Hey, thanks,” she said, walking away.

  zzz

  “Good work, Charlie!” said Mr. George the next day after bio class. “I didn’t think we’d make so much progress so quickly.”

  “Yes, but one thing is for certain, there are also zombies loose on the streets of Portland. I came across a few random ones already.”

  “Well, I think they’re likely being infected by the zleader, who must be holed up somewhere nearby. So far, I’ve had no reports of zombies in any other parts of the city. Right now we have a one mile infection zone circumference.” Stewart examined his map. “The two alleys you found zombies in are quite close together. Chances are the zleader is in hiding somewhere near there.”

  “Right. Well, I have to head to my next class now.” She grabbed her backpack and left.

  zzz

  Charlie walked down the hallway to her next class.

  “Hello, Mr. Allan,” she called out. “That’s a nice new suit you’re wearing. And that’s a fancy watch.”

  “Wow, you know your fashion,” he said, waving at her. “I wouldn’t have expected that of you. Zan, maybe.”

  Charlie headed into her chem class where Owen gave her a wave.

  “I wonder how Mr. Allan found the cash to buy all that fancy stuff?” she whispered to him.

  “Dunno,” he said. “Maybe he got a raise.”

  “Curious,” she said. “Say, can you do me a favor tonight? I’ve got to go to the bad part of town to pick something up, but I should probably have a spotter.”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “As long as you aren’t dealing drugs.”

  “No, it’s the opposite,” she said.

  “Cool, count me in!”

  “Can I go too?” asked a voice.

  Charlie jumped when Zan stuck her head between the two of them.

  “Zan! You scared me,” said Owen.

  “OK, why would you head into a dangerous situation? I thought tonight you’d be chilling at home, doing your homework,” asked Charlie.

  “I’m getting bored. I aced all the tests this week. I already know everything.”

  “Hey, maybe you can skip a grade,” suggested Owen.

  “Already did that,” Zan responded. “My parents don’t want me to get too far ahead as then I won’t fit in.”

  Charlie looked at Owen. She hated involving her friends in case they got hurt. On the other hand, she might need the help. Who knew what would happen if she went in alone, having asked for information, and they decided to lie in wait for her? The more, the merrier.

  “Fine, but I’m not even going to tell you why we’re going.”

  “Good deal,” said Zan. Then she reverted to her usual aloofness. “If you guys don’t want to lend me a pen, that’s fine,” she said extremely loud, so the entire class heard. She stomped back to her desk at the front.

  zzz

  The group was hiding behind a large dumpster. Charlie was
on the end, peering out occasionally.

  “Gee, I could have done this at home too,” commented Zan.

  “Maybe we should call the cops,” said Owen.

  Charlie had given the team a bare minimum of information. She hoped that they would stay safe.

  “OK, I’m going in,” she said.

  Fortunately, this time around, there were no zombies. She really didn’t want to have to explain zombies to either of them.

  She strode confidently up to the same door, with the sign FORTUNES FORETOLD situated above the entrance, and knocked.

  “Hey, what’s up?” asked Stan. “You ready to buy more? Hey, let me get my jacket and I’ll be right there.” He grabbed his jacket, and then exited the door, closing it behind him.

  “No, I don’t need any more drugs,” she said.

  “I know, but that goon in there doesn’t need to know what I’m doing,” he said.

  “Oh right,” she said.

  “Anyway, what are you doing with those drugs I sold you?”

  “I turned them over to someone, and they’re being sent to a lab for testing.”

  “I see,” he said.

  “So, did you learn anything?” she asked.

  “Yep. Apparently John, that’s the goon inside there, normally has them delivered. But they’re not doing that anymore, so he has to go pick them up from The Bean Trip.”

  Charlie thought a bit. “You mean, the coffee shop down the street?”

  He nodded.

  “Is there any sort of contact?” she asked. “Or is he picking up from one of the baristas?”

  “Not sure,” he answered. “All I know is that John has to go there at 11 pm tonight.”

  “Right,” she said. “Well, thanks for your time. It’s greatly appreciated.” She began to walk away.

  “Hey, maybe the cops should handle this,” he suggested.

  “Yeah, like they handled the cocaine, morphine, meth, or bath salts crises.”

  “Well, then, stay safe!”

  Charlie turned and walked back to her friends while Stan went back inside.

  She walked around the dumpster. “Psst, I’m back,” she said.

  Owen came out first, then Zan.

  “Did ya get what you want?” he asked.

  “Yes, information. However, the night isn’t over yet. We have to go to a coffee shop at 11 pm.”

  “Wait. Would it be open that late?”

  “I guess so,” said Charlie. “It’s Portland. Does anyone sleep?”

  “Great,” said Owen. “We can get a bite to eat before we go there. I like this surveillance. Really hard work.”

  “Yeah, maybe I should have stayed home to do my math homework. That would have been more exciting,” said Zan.

  Charlie’s arms went up in the air. “Hey, guys! Get behind me.”

  In the distance was a pack of zombies. There had to be at least five of them.

  “Hey, those guys have too much to drink or what?” asked Owen.

  “Looks like zombies to me,” said Zan.

  The zombies ran at them. Charlie yanked the dagger out of her back pocket. Owen looked around frantically. He spotted an old board by the dumpster so he ran and got it. Zan just stood there.

  Charlie didn’t wait. She raced up to the zombie on the right and smashed his head in with her dagger. Before the second zombie had a chance to reach her, he was down on the ground too.

  Owen rushed forward with the board held over his head. He swung it out hard, connecting with the head of the zombie on the far left. It went down.

  “Got one!” he yelled.

  “You have to destroy their brains,” Charlie called.

  The zombie on the ground reached out a hand and clutched Owen’s leg. Owen took the board and brought it down hard on the zombie’s head. Blood and brains spewed everywhere. “Yuck!” he cried.

  There were still two zombies walking.

  “These are mine,” Zan cried. She pulled something out from the inside of her jacket pocket. A second later, she plunged her dagger into their skulls. Both zombies went down.

  “Geez, Zan! What are you doing?!” said Charlie, fretting.

  “Quick, get them in the dumpsters,” Zan said.

  Five minutes later, the team of three was casually walking down the street. Owen had ditched his shirt in the first trash can he saw. He was now wearing a pink cat shirt that Zan just happened to have in her backpack.

  “How do I look?” she asked. “No zombie blood anywhere?”

  “Nah, you’re fine,” said Owen.

  “Zan! I can’t believe you stabbed them! I hear sirens on the way,” said Charlie, complaining.

  “Well, there were too many, sorry. Besides, I thought you two could use the help.”

  “Arrgh,” said Charlie. “Let’s hope the sirens don’t scare away the guys from the rendezvous at The Bean Trip later.”

  The group walked down the street. Fortunately, the cop cars were on the next street over, so they weren’t seen.

  “This evening is shaping up well,” said Zan. “I was right. You are a zlayer.”

  Charlie slapped her on the back. “And you too! I thought I was the only one in this city.”

  “Nah,” said Zan. “We had an outbreak way south of here in Ashland a few years back. A small one though, not like this. That’s when I found out.”

  “Cool!” said Owen. “But what’s a zlayer?”

  “A zombie slayer,” said Charlie and Zan in unison.

  “I see,” he said. “Well, since we’re talking about fake things, I’m a truthsayer.”

  Zan chuckled. “I already knew that too.”

  “Well, it’s interesting how we all ended up together. Do any of the others at school possess superpowers?” asked Charlie.

  Owen ran his fingers through his hair. “Hey, I’m a superhero!”

  “Not that I’m aware of. It’s not exactly something that people brag about at school,” replied Zan.

  “OK, guys, we’re nearly there. Should we hide and wait to see who enters the shop at 11 pm? Or should we head in there first?” asked Charlie.

  “I say we hide first. That worked out well last time,” suggested Owen.

  “OK, then. Let’s duck around the alley and see who shows up.”

  While the three of them crouched behind the trash cans, Charlie wondered why it was easier to make friends when you were a zlayer.

  Chapter 5

  ________________________________________

  “Thanks for checking in,” said Stewart. “Since you’ll be in a public place, I’m not too concerned.”

  “See you at school tomorrow.” She flipped her phone closed.

  “So far, no action,” said Zan, peering out at The Bean Trip across the street.

  “Yep, pretty dead at night. So far, I’ve only seen one woman with a baby carriage, and three teenage girls. Somehow, I don’t think they’re our target market,” said Owen.

  “Shhh,” said Charlie. “There’s John, one of the drug dealers.”

  “He’s going inside,” said Zan.

  “OK, I think we should head in,” said Charlie. “Just in case the seller does work for the shop.”

  The three teens casually came out from behind the dumpster. Zan wiped her jeans down. They jaywalked across the street and entered the shop.

  Inside, there was the distinctive aroma of coffee bean permeating the air. The coffee shop was small. There was a chalkboard up on the wall with the menu. The display case in front had a few treats.

  “Hello, how may I help you?” asked the barista.

  “I’d like a decaf latte with gingerbread syrup, rice milk, no whip, grande,” said Zan.

  “Can I just have a bottle of water?” asked Charlie, rolling her eyes.

  “I’ll have the veggie fruit juice,” said Owen.

  The group received their orders. Zan paid the bill.

  They sat near the wall where they’d have a good vantage point. The drug dealer was seated on the opposit
e side of the wall. He hadn’t even looked up when they came in. Charlie forgot she might be recognized, so she quickly put on some red lipstick and earrings from her bag, and donned a baseball cap that Zan handed to her. She untied her hair and let it rest against her shoulders. There. He shouldn’t be able to recognize her now.

  The woman with the baby carriage soon left, then the three teen girls, leaving only four people in the coffee shop, not including the barista.

  Charlie was pretending to read her cell phone when the barista came out from behind the counter and dropped a bag on the drug dealer’s table.

  “I knew it!” whispered Owen.

  John grabbed the bag and left the shop.

  “Hey, it’s almost closing time here,” called out the barista.

  “We’re almost done, thanks,” called out Charlie.

  The group finished up their drinks, and then used the bathrooms. Outside, they gathered together.

  “Now what?” asked Owen.

  “I think I need another vocation,” said Zan. “This surveillance thing is mighty boring.”

  “I think we should wait until the barista comes out, then jump him, and make him confess as to where he got the drugs from,” suggested Charlie.

  “What?” said Owen. “That’s crazy. That’s like committing a crime. I’m out.” He walked away.

  “Owen!” called Zan.

  “Crap!” said Charlie. “I need help with this.”

  “I’ll help you. I can make him talk.” Zan had a smirk on her face.

  “OK, but I need to let Stewart know first.” She grabbed her phone out of her pocket.

  “Wait a minute, Stewart? As in Stewart George? You got a thing going on with him or something? He’s old!”

  “No!” Charlie said, horrified. “He’s my mentor.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Zan.

  “Speaking of mentors, who’s yours?” asked Charlie.

  “Mine? She got killed a couple years ago, during the last uprising.”

  “So, you’ve been going it alone?”

  “Yeah, well, nothing’s happened since then. And no one has showed up.”