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

by Morris, SJ

  Everyone looked at one another, then back towards the direction the horde was in and either shook their head or gave a thumbs up. No one wanted to be the one to speak loudly and give our position away to the undead tsunami that could wipe us out in seconds if they heard us.

  We slowly and quietly made our way back to the vehicles and headed south as agreed.

  Chapter 20

  Christopher Bryant

  Jimmy seemed to know the area better than anyone, so I let him drive. I sat in the passenger seat next to him, letting my mind wander about what was happening to Abby. Not knowing exactly who had taken her, or what they were doing to her was driving me crazy. After what we’d seen in Fort Lee, the bad feeling I had about this rescue mission before got even worse.

  It was like a dark cloud was hanging over all of us. It was that terrible, foreboding feeling buried inside my gut telling me that things were going to keep getting worse until they spiraled out of control, and we lost soldiers. I chastised myself silently for not treating this like it was just any other mission. I was retired and hadn’t been in the military for years, but the training kicked in, and being around all of these soldiers again had me back in the military mindset.

  “Hey Chris, you alright man?” Jimmy asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah. I’m just worried about Abby. It’s already been over twenty-four hours since she was taken and were not a hundred percent sure we know where she is. Plus, seeing that horde of infected up by the GWB... that doesn’t bode well for what we’re going to find when we get into the city, that is if we make it there. Something like over a million and a half people call Manhattan home. That’s potentially a million and a half zombies waiting to call us dinner.”

  “Sure, it sucks. Sure, we’re outnumbered two hundred fourteen thousand to one, but we’ve got a good idea of where they took her, and we’ll find a boat. Hell, you found seven mercenaries that agreed to join us on the fly. If that’s not a good sign, then I don’t know what is. We’ve got this, man. Have a little faith,” Jimmy said, smiling while he held his hand out the window like it was a kite in the wind.

  “I hope you’re right, Jimmy. I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.”

  We made it to the Hoboken Rail Yard with relative ease. We decided to gas up the vehicles and leave them here, so if we needed to make a hasty retreat, we didn’t have to worry about running out of gas or not knowing where to go to find the cars. Following the rail line was easy enough to remember. We were on the corner of 18th Street and Marin Boulevard, a few blocks from the Holland Tunnel entrance.

  Jimmy said we could take 18th to 14th, and there was a dock right at the end of 14th Street. I didn’t ask why Jimmy knew this area so well, I was just glad that he did. There were more zombies here than when we were up in Fort Lee, which made me oddly more comfortable with our surroundings. I had a silencer on my rifle, so I was free to use it as needed, but even though we hadn’t seen or smelled a herd yet, we were keeping the firearm use down to a minimum, just in case.

  Admiral’s crew were used to not shooting since they were almost always out of ammunition, he had said. I, on the other hand, I felt naked if I wasn’t firing my weapon, but I had to be mindful that I didn’t have unlimited ammunition out here.

  We stalked down 18th Street with virtually no noise. Everyone was on high alert after what we had seen up north. Every few seconds, you would hear the thwack of a spear piercing the skull of an infected and the soft noise of rotting flesh hitting the pavement as someone took out a lone revenant. But other than the sounds of bodies hitting the pavement, our team was absolutely soundless.

  It felt good to be part of a team again, especially one that matched my skills in stealth. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this feeling. After Tom and Dan’s tragic deaths, I didn’t have many veterans to train with anymore. Those men, those soldiers, were my closest friends before and during the apocalypse. I missed them every day.

  We turned down 14th Street, and everyone was visibly relieved to see there wasn’t a massive number of the infected standing between us and the docks. There were quite a few, but nothing we couldn’t handle quickly and quietly.

  Garrison waved at me, and I crab-walked between a crashed Ford to get to him. “What’s up?” I whispered.

  “Can I see this stuff in action? I mean... I’d like to know it works before I get in a jam and rely on this crap without knowing it actually does the trick on these undead asshats,” Garrison whispered back to me as he pulled the giant yellow and orange water gun from his pack.

  I looked over the hood of the long-dead vehicle we were hiding behind and saw an older man, probably in his mid-sixties wearing a torn Grateful Dead t-shirt and soiled tighty whities, my guess was that his pants had rotted off already. He had torn socks with one foot somehow still in a Birkenstock. The Dead Head was missing his right arm from the elbow down, and half of his face. I pointed to him and whispered to Garrison, “That one. Super small squirt on an open wound is all it should take. Make sure he doesn’t see you because it takes a few seconds to work. We don’t need the rest of them to come barreling down on us.”

  Garrison smiled from ear to ear and plastered himself against the crunched-up car to get a clear shot. He looked back at me and then turned to the Dead Head just before it passed out of range. Garrison squeezed the trigger, and the orange liquid shot out like a stream of piss hitting the infected in the face.

  I had to stifle a laugh thanks to my own sick and twisted sense of humor. I had a joke about a certain celebrity who liked to pee on underage girls I desperately wanted to make.

  Within a few seconds, Mr. Dead Head was leaking black fluid from every orifice. The dark sludge was practically pouring from its open face and severed arm before it dropped to its knees and then fell broken face first into the pavement and stopped moving.

  I watched as Admiral’s team members looked at one another in turn with huge smiles on their faces. Jet and Arrow seemed to be in some kind of unnatural mental sync with one another. Even though they were on different sides of the street, they both gave me a double thumbs-up while sticking their tounges out like idiots as they made the same crazy face. I knew from experience that being in a unit together bonded soldiers tighter than any civilian could ever understand, but these two guys took it to a whole new level.

  I pointed to the fences in front of us. They were the only barrier between us and the dock at the moment. A few revenants were wandering around, but nothing to write home about. I pointed to Admiral, Lynn, and Jimmy, then motioned for them to follow me. I stalked up quietly to the fence, and the three followed close behind me, scanning the area for any threats.

  Lynn used her Jain sword to slice through a young male who was missing an eye and a hand, then she quickly dispatched a woman dressed in a tattered cocktail dress. Lynn was absolutely deadly with that blade. I was happy she was on our team.

  The lock on the gate was one meant for a key. Thanks to my years of training and preparedness, I happened to have a lock pick set in my vest. I quickly went to work on the lock, and had it open in under forty-five seconds. That was a new record for me.

  I lifted the heavy metal chain from the fencing as quietly as possible, opened the gate just wide enough for us to enter, and motioned for the rest of our group who was still hidden behind cars and other debris littering the sidewalk to come inside. They each moved in sync with one another, falling into place to cover one another leapfrogging forward in silence. Then there was Kamil. He tried to follow what the others were doing, but you could tell he wasn’t a trained soldier just by the way he carried himself. He still made it through the gate without making too much noise. Everyone has room for improvement somewhere, right? Kamil had heart, and he was dedicated and loyal. That was all I needed from him to feel safe when he was covering my six. The other stuff I could teach him, being trustworthy and honorable, I could not.

  When everyone was inside, I closed the gate and put the chain and lock back in p
lace without closing it all the way. I wanted the fence to be secure, but I also wanted the ability to get the hell out of here in a hurry if we needed to.

  Garrison and Kamil were taking the lead here since they were the mechanics, and Garrison said he knew a lot about boats. It was up to the two of them to find a good high vantage point and scope out the docks to see if there were any viable watercraft we could use to get across the Hudson River.

  Garrison moved ahead towards a raised platform that overlooked the entire dock with Kamil following closely behind him, turning every so often to make sure there were no threats. The rest of us fanned out at the entrance to the platform to make sure Garrison and Kamil had time to look for boats without worrying about the infected.

  Garrison came running back, smiling from ear to ear. At first, I thought he had completely lost his mind, he looked like the Joker with that smile of his. But then he blurted out, “I can’t believe my luck! I found a Bavaria 44. Do you know how long I have wanted one of those sailboats for?”

  “Shh!” Admiral and I both said at the same time. “Don’t go and kick a cow turd on a hot day, son. Are you trying to attract every revenant in the shipyard to us?” Admiral muttered quietly to Garrison.

  Garrison whispered, “Sorry, sir.” He looked deflated, like a dog that just had its face rubbed in its own shit.

  Admiral shook his head at Garrison in disapproval. “Well, you heard the man. He found us a boat, let’s go.”

  As we stood from our crouched positions around the platform, the sounds of water lapping on the dock was interrupted by multiple high-pitched screams.

  “Damn it. I hoped we wouldn’t have to deal with these assholes. Jet, Arrow, you’re with me. The rest of you, get on that boat and help them get it off the dock ASAP. Go!” I ordered.

  Without question, Jet and Arrow both fell to my flanks as the others ran to help with the boat. It felt good to be the squad leader again.

  Chapter 21

  Christopher Bryant

  The chorus of screams from the infected grew louder and closer, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Sweat ran like a leaky faucet down my forehead. Jet, Arrow, and I stood at the base of the platform defending it against an attacker we couldn’t yet see, but we knew was coming.

  I felt like a scared kid waiting for the boogeyman to jump out of my closet and eat me. Only these boogeymen were real, and they would most certainly eat all of if us given the opportunity.

  Jet yelled out, “Nine o’clock, revenants comin’ in hot!”

  I chose Jet and Arrow because they were good soldiers, I also wanted them because they were the two men on Admiral’s crew who still had ammunition.

  “Fire at will, boys!” I shouted as I unleashed a barrage of bullets on the incoming super-infected.

  My silenced shots were echoed by the unsilenced thunderclaps from Jet and Arrow’s M249 Squad automatic weapons. The undead let out their guttural moans almost like growls as our shots peppered their bodies, dropping some and blowing chunks off of others.

  I paused to take stock of the situation unfolding around us. There were approximately thirty infected to our right, fifty to our left, and dozens more coming at us head on. We were not going to be able to take them all out. I turned behind me, looking at the others scrambling to release lines and all the other crap you need to do when launching a boat. They weren’t ready yet, so we needed to give them more time.

  I yelled out to my comrades over the blasting of their weapons, “Pull back tighter! I want us back to back, so none of these undead shit for brains gets through! Arrow take out as many as you can at our three o’clock, Jet you take nine, and I’ve got our twelve!”

  I raised my rifle, took aim, and fired. Shot for shot strategically placed in the brain of one of the infected. But it seemed that every time one dropped two filled its place snarling and biting the air at me. It was like they were an army of angry wasps pouring out of a hive someone had kicked.

  The rate of firing increased to my sides. The crack of automatic gunfire reverberating all around us.

  Arrow yelled out, “Reloading!”

  I turned to my right and covered his side as well as mine, taking out the closest rotters. Arrow slammed a fresh magazine into his SAW and resumed blasting into the thinning number of undead.

  I turned back to the threats directly in front of me and continued firing into the crowd. Screams of the undead echoed all around us once again, and the infected crouched in an animal-like ready to pounce pose and froze like someone hit pause on a horror movie. I took the brief respite to reload without taking my eyes off of the strange behavior. Arrow and Jet ceased firing as well.

  “What the hell are they doing now?” Jet questioned in his deep southern accent.

  Arrow answered him in a matching southern drawl, “I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my ass, what the fuck ya’ll?”

  “I don’t know what they’re doing, but they aren’t advancing, so let’s take the opportunity to give ‘em hell, boys!” I yelled as I pulled my sidearm and began firing.

  Bullets ripped through the brains of the infected. Black blood and bone splashed all over the concrete. The bang of gunfire amped up, and the sound was deafening, making my ears ring. The smell of burning gunpowder filled the air as I unleashed my own war cry at the undead. Arrow and Jet followed suit, screaming as they fired.

  I don’t know what came over me but screaming as I murdered these things made me feel so much better. It was a release I hadn’t known I needed. Everyone is entitled to a small mental breakdown in the thick of the zombie apocalypse. At least I think so.

  I took a breath and was picking my next target when I heard Benning yell from behind us. “We’re ready to go! Fallback soldiers!” He commanded.

  We did as ordered, in a careful and orchestrated effort. Jet and I ran a few feet as Arrow covered us, then I stopped to cover as Arrow ran ahead with Jet. We leapfrogged taking turns covering each other as we made it to the end of the pier where the boat was slowly pulling away.

  The undead seemed to realize what was happening and shrieked madly unpausing from their previous frozen state and advancing quickly. Their cries intensified in their fury, and as I got closer to the end of the pier, I could see what they were waiting for. It appeared they had called for reinforcements. A tidal wave of undead was heading right for us from the north. I couldn’t believe it. The super-infected had paused in their attempts at attacking us to wait for their slower brethren to ensure that they were successful in their assault.

  Seeing the sheer number of undead barreling down on us gave me an extra shot of adrenaline. “We’re running out of time, guys. Forget about laying down cover, we have to get this boat off the dock now!” I screamed, pointing over Arrow’s shoulder at the incoming swarm.

  Jet looked up, stopping in his tracks. “Well, ain’t I as confused as a fart in a fan factory. Where in the fuck did they all come from?”

  I pushed Jet along, so he’d jump onboard the drifting boat. “I think that’s why they all froze before. They called for backup and were waiting for it to arrive.”

  Arrow looked at me with a confused expression as he helped me jump onto the boat. “Well fuck me sideways. These bastards are getting smart. I never thought I’d see the day when I wish we could go back to them zombies being dumber than a box of hammers, but here we are. Hey, Garrison! How about we get dem engines rollin’ ASAP? We’re about to have company, and they ain’t here for our hospitality.”

  “Roger that!” Garrison yelled from the wheelhouse as the engines on the boat roared to life.

  Garrison looked happier than a pig in shit behind the wheel, but the rest of us just looked defeated as we watched the oncoming mass.

  We were about three hundred feet from the dock when the horde arrived. The undead spilled into the Hudson River like sewage. The smell was eye-watering, and the waves created by the sudden influx of bodies sinking in the water rocked the mid-sized boat making a few of
our crew hug the edge of the vessel and vomit into the brown water.

  I watched as we pulled further away from the horrific scene, and several dark silhouettes standing on top of a shipping container caught my eye. I pulled my rifle scope up, peering through and wishing I hadn’t. The figures I saw were roughly thirty of the super-infected hunched over, breathing heavily, like rabid panting dogs. They were watching us escape them once again. One infected, in particular, stood out from the rest. He was wearing a bright orange reflective vest like he was out hunting when he was turned. It was hunter orange... this couldn’t be the same zombie I had seen back when we first met up with Admiral and his crew. It just couldn’t be... but it was. I remembered not only the vest but that the infected was wearing a stained red handkerchief around its neck. This one was wearing that same handkerchief.

  Chapter 22

  Abigail Norrington

  I’ve been locked in this room for hours now. The small window at the very top of the ten-foot ceiling told me it was night, but that was about it. I couldn’t see anything else that might give away where I was.

  My breasts were painfully swollen, and I needed to pump or do something to relieve them and keep my milk production up for when I got back to my girls. It’s not like formula is easy to come by during the apocalypse.

  I banged on the door as hard as I could. “Hey! I need a cup or something in here unless you want me to leak all over the floor!”

  I heard a quiet beep as the locks on the door were deactivated, so I backed away, not knowing what I should expect from whomever was going to barge inside.

  A tall, brawny, and irate bald man with pockmarks all over his reddened face stomped into the room. “You have got to be quiet, damn it! I have a horrible headache, it’s late, and I don’t feel like putting up with your shit. It’s bad enough they’ve got me on babysitting duty. Now I have to hear you whining about taking a leak. Shut up, would ya!” he yelled, spittle flying everywhere.