The Z-Strain Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Morris, SJ

  “What the hell, Nasser? I’m just trying to get the tape off your face.” I asked, confused as to why she wouldn’t want the tape removed.

  Dr. Nasser stood pointing to her mouth frantically, shaking her head no. She then pointed to what was left of the burning Visitor’s Center, pointed to her mouth again, and made a blasting motion with her hands.

  “Shit,” I answered as I pieced her charades together. “They put a grenade in your mouth before they taped you up, didn’t they?” I asked.

  Dr. Nasser had a single tear roll down her grime ridden cheek as she nodded yes and pointed her finger to her nose, signaling that I had guessed correctly.

  “I assume the pin is still in the grenade?” I asked, needing to know more.

  Dr. Nasser shook her head, yes.

  “Well, that’s good, at least. We might be able to pull the tape off without pulling the pin, and you can just spit it out.”

  Nasser shook her head no.

  “Did they attach the pin to the tape somehow, so as soon as the tape is pulled off, the pin comes out?”

  She nodded her head yes, slowly, crying even harder now.

  Lynn ran up to me out of the darkness, hugging me tightly and kissing me all over my face. She grabbed my shoulders, pulling me away to look me over, and I felt a blinding pain in my right shoulder. “Agh, shit!” I yelled out.

  Lynn pulled her hands away from me, and her left hand was soaked in bright red blood. “Crap, you’re injured,” Lynn barked out, wiping my blood from her hand on her jeans.

  “We’ve got more significant problems at the moment than some shrapnel in my shoulder. I’ll live for now, but Dr. Nasser has a live grenade taped in her mouth. The pin is attached to the tape, so as soon as we pull it off, we’re only going to have four seconds to get it out and away from everyone before it goes off,” I said, pointing to Dr. Nasser, who was sitting on the ground weeping.

  “Well, if we hold the striker lever down, even if we pull the pin, the grenade won’t go off, right?” Lynn asked.

  “Yeah, but it looks like the striker lever is taped open outside of her mouth, against her cheek. So as soon as we pull the tape off, the pin goes with it, and the lever is already open. We’re back to only having four seconds before it explodes,” I say, wiping the sweaty grime and soot from my forehead with my good arm.

  “Well, we’ve got to do something. Look, the fences are down in spots,” Lynn said, pointing to a place where a chunk of the wooden stairwell now lay over the metal chain link. “It looks like debris from the explosions knocked part of the gates down, and like you said before, the ghouls are going to be flocking to us like moths to a giant flame after those explosions. It’s like we rang the dinner bell. We’ve got to get out of here. Preferably without poor Dr. Nasser carrying around a live grenade in her face.”

  “I hear ya. Let me see what I can do. Check the others over for injuries and be sure they’re ready to go. Traveling by night isn’t the best idea, but we don’t have much of a choice, now do we?” I asked, feeling the pain in my wounded arm stinging worse now.

  “There are cabins down by the lake that have some basic provisions in them. There’s a rockface on one side, the lake on the other, so it’ll limit the angles the ghouls can use to swarm us. I say we head there for the night. So these people can maybe get some rest. I think the ghouls are going to be more attracted to the raging fire than us. At least I hope so,” Lynn offered.

  “Sounds good. You get these people there, and I’ll work with Dr. Nasser. Hopefully, she’ll be alive to show me the way to the cabins, and I’ll meet you there,” I smiled painfully.

  Lynn gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, avoiding my injured shoulder and she was off assessing patients and pointing people in the direction of the cabins.

  Now that it was just Dr. Nasser and me, I had some time to think. What did I know about grenades from my training? Well, if we removed the pin, nothing is holding the lever in position, which means nothing is holding the spring-loaded striker because of the way it’s taped to her cheek. Once the pin is removed, it makes a spark that ignites a slow-burn toward the fuse. In about four seconds, six, if we’re lucky, the delay material burns all the way through, and boom goes Dr. Nasser’s head.

  ‘Ugh, this is insane! Why the hell would those men do this?’ I shouted to myself internally, trying not to freak out Dr. Nasser any more than she already was.

  I had my private temper tantrum, now back to fixing this. “Dr. Nasser let me see exactly what we’re dealing with here. Maybe if I have a good look at how the tape is configured, I’ll have a better idea of what to do to solve this.”

  Dr. Nasser looked mortified that her life was in my hands, but she stood to face me anyway.

  “Please don’t move,” I said to her as I slowly reached toward her face.

  I gently pressed against the duct tape feeling where the striker lever was. Sure enough, it was wedged over her cheek, so as soon as that pin was pulled, the grenade would be activated. There would be no putting the pin back in.

  I felt a lump where the pin itself should be, and I could definitely feel there was something wrapped around it, probably more tape through the ring of the pin, so any attempt to pull the tape from her face would pull the trigger with it. I freaking hate being right with shit like this. Why can’t I be right about something happy like winning lotto numbers, not like any of that crap mattered anymore?

  “All right, no more pussyfooting about with this. I’m going to see what I can do to remove as much tape as possible without setting this thing off. Okay?”

  Dr. Nasser pulled back and shook her head, vehemently grunting, “Uh, agh.”

  I put my hand on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. “It’s just you and me here, Dr. Nasser. If something happens to you, I bite the big one too. There’s no way I’m leaving you. We do this together, and we both get out of here relatively unharmed. Got it?” I asked, trying to reassure her.

  She shook her head yes slowly, with more tears running down her face.

  I reached down to my holster, and somehow my flashlight managed to survive the blast and stay in my belt. I turned it on and instructed Dr. Nasser to close her eyes. I began lifting the tape slowly, trying to be as gentle as I could with the delicate skin around her mouth, but also with the miniature bomb just beyond her lips.

  I pulled away one side enough that she could breathe through it, so I started on the other side. The trick was going to be getting the entire outline of her mouth free of tape without pulling the pin from its current home. Slow and steady wins this race.

  “All right. I have all of the tape pulled away from your face, so don’t move. I’m going to try and pull the rest of the tape with the grenade still attached out of your mouth, so when I tell you, get down on your knees and open your mouth as wide as you possibly can, please,” I asked Dr. Nasser as I wiped the sweat from my brow once again.

  It was a cool spring evening but tell my nerves that. I was sweating worse than a nun in a cucumber field. Shit was I nervous.

  Nasser got down on her knees and looked up to me with anxious, troubled eyes. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and shook out my hands. My shoulder screamed in pain with the shrapnel still digging into it, but the pain helped me focus more on pulling the grenade out of her mouth entirely intact.

  “Here goes nothing. Open slowly, please,” I instructed Dr. Nasser.

  She slowly opened her mouth. The shell was still held together with the duct tape. I gradually pulled the wad out of her mouth with the whole grenade. The pin was still in place, leaving the weapon inactive for the moment.

  Dr. Nasser breathed out a huge sigh of relief as she collapsed to the ground. She lay there opening and closing her jaw over and over again, rubbing her cheeks with her fingers.

  I, however, just stood there motionless with the grenade in my hand. I didn’t know exactly what to do with the device. I hadn’t thought that far along. I was only focused on getting it out of her
mouth without killing her. I laughed at myself.

  “Thank you so much, Jimmy. You really saved my ass. What are you going to do with it now?” Dr. Nasser asked me as she slowly stood up. “Whatever it is, you better think of it fast. We’ve got company,” Dr. Nasser mumbled as she backed up away from me.

  I turned to see hundreds of infected coming through the trees and stumbling over the chain-link fence that was toppled from the debris. Thankfully the fence still stood six feet tall in some places, so where there were breaches, they were only allowing a certain number of zombies in at a time. It was like an undead funnel.

  I looked at the grenade in my hand, and I looked at the rotting corpses shuffling into a large mass at the gates trying to push one another out of the way to get to us, and an idea came to mind.

  “Hey Doc, I’m about to do something really stupid, so you should probably start running. Head to the cabins Lynn mentioned. I’ll be right behind you... I hope.”

  Dr. Nasser looked down at the deadly ball of duct tape in my hand and back at the zombies funneling inside before she gave me a thumbs up and started running in the opposite direction.

  I took another deep breath, pulled the pin from the grenade while holding the strike lever down, aimed into the building crowd of the undead, and tossed the deadly device into the mob. I turned to run after Dr. Nasser, and within seconds the sound of the blast filled my ears and shook my already battered body. Chunks of the infected rained down behind me, making squishy noises as they landed. Body parts cracked as weak bones splintered with the impact of the ground. The sound alone made me queasy. I regained my footing after being pushed by the force of the explosion and continued to run after Dr. Nasser.

  Chapter 15

  Abbigail Norrington

  It was so lovely to spend these last few days with my family in relative peace and quiet. Troy was off with Kamil and Jimmy escorting the new doctors back to their group, and Troy was going to have a powwow with Dr. Stuart Dodges over their findings on the Perdition Virus and how to finally stop this plague.

  I had my girls, Ella and Kasey, to take care of, and Chris, Tyler, and Christine had the three of us to dote over. Life was seemingly back to normal. Like before the outbreak normal, which was almost inconceivable.

  No one even mentioned the word ‘infected’ or ‘zombie’ to me in the last seventy-two hours, and I loved every second of it. Breastfeeding, on the other hand, was a pain in the ass, and I hated it. I forgot how much of a task breastfeeding was, and to do it with twins, each wanting to eat at the same time, ugh. However, I would take these problems any day of the week over the kind of troubles shuffling around outside.

  We’d all been through so much since the outbreak, we deserved a vacation from the apocalypse. I was healing well from my caesarean and Doc Bakers said I could be up and moving about in the next day or so, but I should still try and take it easy. Healing from a c-section could take up to six weeks, according to the Doc.

  I was feeling better than I had in a really long time, though, and I was starting to get cabin fever. I was cooped up in bed for weeks at the end of my pregnancy, and now Doc Bakers wanted to keep me resting for another week at least. I needed to get up and move, even if it was against doctor’s orders.

  Once the babies were fed, and everyone, including Chris and Tyler, were down for naps, I decided to take a walk. It was a gorgeous day outside, and I needed to stretch my legs.

  I walked along the concrete wall that surrounded the property, and I happened upon a group of purple flowers peeking up from the wet soil. They reminded me of the flowers I placed on the funeral pyre for Allycia and the others.

  The memory brought tears to my eyes. I brushed them away quickly, sitting in the grass against the wall at the far end of the property. From my vantage point, I could see the barn, the siloes with gasoline and grain inside, and the very top of the cabin where the burnt-out chimney still stood.

  People were working on clearing the burned pieces of the roof today to make way for the repairs that were supposed to start when Kamil returned from the Wawayanda stronghold. I missed Kamil. He was always a good friend to talk to, and I could really use him right about now.

  I sat in the fresh grass with the sun warming my face. I needed this. I had been trapped inside for far too long.

  And then I heard an odd sound. One that was very out of place in the middle of the apocalypse. I heard it a split second before it came into view over the concrete wall. It was the unmistakable whirring of helicopter rotor blades cutting through the cloudless sky. I was slow to get up, considering my abdominal muscles had just been chopped up recently when three ropes were tossed out of the chopper as it hovered close to where I stood. Three men in black masks holding automatic weapons descended to the ground on the ropes and ran over to me.

  I screamed and tried to run, but the men were much quicker than I was. Two of the mercenaries grabbed my arms, threw zip-ties around my wrists fastening them tightly, and the other threw a hood over my head before they lifted me off of my feet and began carrying me towards the sound of the helicopter. I was gently pushed into what I expected was the belly of the aircraft, where I was belted into a seat. I heard the men yell that they were good to go over the noise of the rotor wash, and I felt the chopper elevate in response.

  The journey in the helicopter wasn’t a long one, only about half an hour or forty-five minutes if I had to guess. But that means we could be anywhere considering the average helicopter could fly upwards of a hundred and sixty miles per hour.

  People were working on the roof of the cabin, so they had to notice the big black helicopter taking me away. I could only hope that Chris or somebody else was able to see or follow which direction the aircraft had taken me at least. I doubted it, though. Chris was sound asleep in the apartment underground when I left him, and anyone else never would have been able to follow the helicopter.

  I guess it’s up to me once again to get myself out of the crappy situation I now found myself in. Why does this always seem to happen to me?

  “Hello!” I yelled. “Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on here?” I asked anyone who’d answer me.

  “Ma’am, we’re landing now, so you’ll be briefed as soon as possible,” yelled a man to my right side over the noise of the rotors.

  “Can’t you at least take this damn hood off of me or loosen these zip-ties? It’s hard to breathe under here, and my wrists are starting to burn,” I shouted as I shook my head from side to side, trying to loosen the hood’s fabric from sticking to my mouth.

  “Sorry, Ma’am. We’ve got orders to keep you secure,” he laughed.

  Stupid, arrogant piece of shit. When I get out of this, I’m going to find this guy and make him pay for this. Every single one of the idiots on this helicopter is going to pay for this. I only got to spend three days with my daughters... three days!

  I felt the chopper rock from side to side as we landed. I was unbuckled and hurriedly pushed out of the cabin. Someone had their hand on my head, forcing me to crouch as we jogged away from the landing site.

  I could tell I was walking through gravel, but not much else. There were no other real queues as to where I was or where the men were taking me until I felt an unmistakable uneasiness. It was the EMP field Brigantine used around her compound and her armored trucks. The feeling was faint, but it was there. I had to be back at her lab. There was a different smell about the place, though. It didn’t smell woodsy - if that makes any sense. Wherever we were, it was incredibly windy, and not just from the rotor wash. Now, if these dumb goons who kidnapped me would just take the damn hood off so I could confirm my suspicions, I might be able to start thinking of a plan to escape.

  We entered a building, and I heard the men using card scanners, so either this was a different location, or they fixed the place up after it was overrun. I was hoping for the latter. Better the devil you know and all, right?

  As soon as the door shut behind us, we got on an elevator. Maybe we weren
’t at Brigantine’s defunct compound. The elevators there were more towards the center of the building, and this place definitely had a different feel about it. Damn it, I wish they’d just remove the stupid hood.

  The elevator ride was relatively long, so we had to be somewhere that was pretty deep underground or a tall building of some sort. With all of the suspense, I was really looking forward to meeting whoever had captured me this time.

  Once we got off the elevator, there was definitely a change in the atmosphere around me. It undeniably had a lab type feel. I could tell there was a hard tile floor below my feet, and the air smelled of antiseptic and cleaning supplies. There was a firm possibility that I was in a laboratory of some sort. A man chuckled in the background, and it was a familiar laugh. I was not happy in the least to hear him, though.

  “So, Abby, how was your flight in? I hope it wasn’t too bumpy for you,” the man joked.

  The hood was taken off of my face, and I blinked back against the bright white fluorescent lights shining in my eyes. Unfortunately, I confirmed my suspicions of who I thought the voice belonged to. “Hey Peter, so what’s new? Rape any 10-year-old boys recently?” I asked smugly as I pulled against my restraints and the two men at my sides wanting to punch Peter in the face repeatedly.

  “You don’t know anything about me or what happened. That little shit, Greyson, whatever he said, he wasn’t telling you the truth,” Peter snorted.

  “If you don’t know what he said, then how do you know he wasn’t telling me the truth?” I asked, smiling, knowing that I was planting the seed of mutiny within the men who reported to this disgusting lowlife pedophile.

  “Again, Abby, you know nothing. But let’s not talk about that, that’s not why we’re here. You have something of interest to me, and I want it back. I’m sure we could make some sort of deal.”

  “So, it is the bombs you’re looking for? Well, you’re shit out of luck then, because you’re not going to get them. Not from me, and not from anyone at the cabin. We know what your plans are, and we won’t let you carry them out. Killing the survivors of this bullshit plague is not an option. Not if I can help it.”