Death Squad (Book 3): Zombie Nation

by Dalton, Charlie

Sam eyeballed the cameras. “They’re watching us. If you don’t take me down, they’ll feed you to the zombies just as they did with Julius, I mean, Jason.”

  Just hearing the name made the guard turn away.

  Sam felt sorry for him. “He shouldn’t have died like that. He was a good man.”

  Cauliflower looked for some hidden meaning in Sam’s expression. There was none. “Better than the rest of us.”

  “He deserved better.”

  “You’re a fool if you think you can outwit the Architect. He thinks of everything. Plans for plans for plans. He probably knows what we’re doing here right now.”

  Sam met his eyes. “What are we doing here right now?”

  Cauliflower scanned her face, her mannerisms. He wasn’t an idiot, not by a long shot. “Jason was the best friend I ever had. He trusted you. I suppose I will too. If you’re looking for the Architect’s room, you’re heading the wrong way.”

  Sam’s ears pricked up. “Which way should I go?”

  The guard gestured left with his eyes, to a corner far too close to him for Sam’s liking.

  “I think I’ll go this way,” she said, motioning to a closer corner.

  “Go that way and the guards will see you for sure. Go this way. It’s safer.” His eyes glistened dangerously.

  Sam felt a feather of fear. “What about the cameras?”

  “We’ll have to put on a good show, won’t we?” He whipped his hand out of his pocket and clutched a Taser. “Run toward me! Now!”

  Sam operated on instinct and bolted forward.

  Cauliflower aimed and fired. The wires grazed the hair on Sam’s arm.

  “Don’t stop! Keep running!”

  Sam’s heart pounded in her chest. She had no intention of stopping. “Why are you doing this?”

  The guard’s smile was sharp. “You think you’re the only ones here against their will?”

  Sam zipped past him. In the same instant, Cauliflower fired, the third shot striking the wall and bouncing off the hard surface. The projectiles slammed into his chest and he electrocuted himself. He flopped to the floor, out of commission.

  Sam daren’t stop to check if he was okay. It would spoil their little scene.

  28.

  HAWK

  The portal light blinked green and slid open, revealing a window into a world Hawk had seen a thousand times but never experienced. Dr. Archer stepped inside, carrying her usual paper cup of strong coffee.

  “Do you know how bad those things are for the environment?” Hawk said.

  The doctor raised the paper cup. “I don’t think the environment will have much say on the subject for a while.”

  She moved to the terminal and placed her coffee on the workstation. She licked the foam off her top lip and unwound her scarf. She hung it on the crook of her arm and glanced at Hawk. Something about his expression caught her eyes. “What is it?”

  Hawk made a face. “Nothing.”

  She placed a hand on her hip and continued staring at him. “Yes, there is. Something’s up. Something new has happened, hasn’t it? What is it?”

  Hawk shrugged. “Nothing beyond the ordinary.”

  Dr. Archer wasn’t about to back down. Hawk glanced in the direction of his broken piston.

  The doctor tutted. “Been overexerting yourself, Hawk?”

  Hawk shrugged. “You know me. Every opportunity I get.”

  “You should control yourself and wait.”

  “You know how hard it is for soldiers to wait, don’t you?”

  The doctor pursed her lips. “Well, I can’t fix it now. You’ll have to wait until we’ve concluded our experiments.”

  “I thought this machine of yours was supposed to be an improvement? It doesn’t seem like much of an improvement to me.”

  “Let me ask you a question. How many arms do you think you’d need to snap those chains?”

  “I would have stopped before it broke.”

  “Want a sensor built in?”

  “I doubt there’s much need for that.”

  Dr. Archer didn’t meet his eyes. She knew the truth, just as he did. He wasn’t getting out of there alive. “Stay there. I don’t want you breaking anything else while my back is turned.”

  She gathered her things and passed Joe’s cage. She was always careful to give it a wide berth. She slipped her white doctor’s jacket from its hook and hung her cardigan in its place. She straightened her hair and turned to Hawk, reaching out a hand to shut her locker. She paused and double took something lying on the floor.

  A broken vial.

  The doctor knew, just as every research assistant did, how important accounting for each item was in a controlled environment such as a lab. They were dealing with an infectious disease and they didn’t want it escaping.

  She grumbled something under her breath and moved to a disused locker. The cleaning equipment was well-stocked, much of the cleaning utensils brand-new. Science labs didn’t use regular everyday equipment. All items had been purpose-built to ensure thorough cleaning.

  She put on a mask and a pair of rubber gloves. She sucked up the glass with a handheld electronic hoover, careful to ensure she swept up every shard.

  A thick globule of sticky liquid dripped in an elongated arch on the floor beside her hand. She touched it with the tip of her gloved finger. It came away sticky.

  She froze, her senses jumping to high alert. She must have known immediately what it was, and what would happen next if she was right. It was probably also the reason why she couldn’t bring herself to look up to check she was right. She leaped backward to get as far from the danger zone as possible.

  Except she couldn’t.

  Something latched around her wrist. Something with a firm grip.

  It was Joe.

  * * *

  Dr. Archer screamed as Joe pulled her toward his cage and wrapped his other cold shriveled hand around her neck. But the doctor wasn’t about to give up just yet.

  She bent over at the waist to pull herself to safety. She felt him come with her, reaching as far as his arms would allow.

  Her plan evolved. She leaned forward and rolled, forcing a gap between them; a gap large enough to avoid the creature’s snapping jaws. But as she did so, she lost her balance and gave the creature an opening.

  It yanked her back and squeezed her tighter. Her head struck the bars hard, momentarily dazed. The creature wrapped its hand about her larynx.

  The breath rushed from her throat as the creature’s chapped lips pressed to the soft flesh at the nape of her neck.

  Tears spilled down either cheek, knowing what would come next, what came naturally to these beasts. It would bury its teeth in her neck, and she would feel the sharp, clumsy bite from the creature’s jaws.

  She waited, but the bite didn’t come.

  She daren’t turn her head to look at the creature for fear she might inadvertently stimulate it into carrying out the terrible deed she so expected it to do. She compromised and peered at the creature out the corner of her eye.

  The creature stared directly at her. One eye swollen shut, the other almost wrenched from its socket. Drool seeped from the corner of its mouth. There was no denying the evil intent it had in store for her.

  And yet, it still hadn’t acted upon that impulse. The creature shifted its focus from her to the opposite side of the lab. It was only when she followed the creature’s sightline that she realized what it was looking at.

  Hawk. He wore a matching grin with the creature. He stared with great concentration at her and the beast.

  * * *

  “You’re doing it, Hawk. You’re doing it!” Dr. Archer’s voice rasped at the back of her throat. “I knew you could. Now, let me go so I can conduct some tests.”

  She shifted her weight to stand up.

  Hawk didn’t lose focus. “I don’t think I will.”

  The doctor struggled against the creature’s grip. “Hawk, come on. We have work to do.”

  “Stop s
truggling or I’ll squeeze tighter.”

  The doctor struggled a little more before ceasing. “I thought you couldn’t do this?”

  “If you wanted me to do this, you should have given me the proper motivation.”

  “Can’t we both be winners?”

  Hawk shook his head. The woman was incredible. “You want me to release you after what you did to me?”

  “I did what I did for the betterment of science.”

  “You did what you did for yourself. Why were you doing this? What possible use could I be to you?”

  “You’re of great scientific value—”

  Hawk squeezed tighter, making the doctor squawk. Her eyes bulged. “I. . . I don’t. . . know.”

  “You haven’t said an honest word to me ever since I woke up in this place.”

  “I. . . don’t. . . know why. . .”

  Her eyes fluttered, on the brink of unconsciousness.

  Hawk eased Joe’s grip. The doctor sucked gulps of oxygen into her lungs.

  “It doesn’t feel good, does it? The lack of control, the slipping into unconsciousness, into a world of darkness and silence. At least you don’t have to face the disease part.”

  Dr. Archer took a couple more breaths, throat constricted by the undead’s grasping claws. Still, it was freeing compared to earlier. “What are you going to do to me?”

  Confronted with the question, Hawk wasn’t entirely sure.

  “Let me go, Hawk. We both know you’re not going to hurt me.”

  She said it was such conviction it turned Hawk’s stomach. “You’re right, I won’t.”

  Dr. Archer’s relief painted her features.

  “But Joe will.”

  The doctor’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t set him on me. You wouldn’t dare.”

  The grip around her throat remained the same, and the doctor appeared to take that as confirmation of her declaration. But the monster shook its head, regaining control of its faculties.

  The creature sniffed, emitted a sad groan, and leaned forward, its jaws opening wide.

  Dr. Archer screamed and turned her head away from the fetid stench of its breath. “Let him kill me and you’ll never learn what you want to know!”

  “I’ll learn from someone else.”

  “No. No!”

  The doctor’s body relaxed, releasing the tension it’d held since the creature had first grabbed hold. A puddle formed underneath her. A high-pitched girlish squeal escaped her windpipe. It was the sound of absolute and total fear.

  The creature’s rough tongue licked her from cheek to temple.

  The doctor muttered her prayers and waited for the end, her fears balanced on the edge of a knife. Apathy on one side, madness the other. She couldn’t take much more of this.

  Hawk watched her carefully. If she was going to spill the beans, she would do it now.

  But she didn’t.

  Hawk seized full control over Joe again and eased the creature back. With her stink fresh in his mind, it was harder to pull the creature back this time. Hawk suspected that if Joe had tasted her blood and entered a frenzied state, there would be no controlling him after that.

  Dr. Archer looked over at Hawk. A slow smile broke through the horror. “I knew you wouldn’t do it. I knew you wouldn’t let him kill me.”

  “Just because I’m not a monster like you doesn’t mean I’m not capable of horrific things.”

  The doctor dry swallowed. “What do you want from me?”

  “First, you’re going to let Joe out. He’s been caged for much too long. Then, you’re going to let me go.”

  “Then you’ll let me go?” The hope in her voice was pitiful.

  “Let’s just say we’ll improve your situation.”

  29.

  TOMMY

  The cage was a snug fit for the older watchman. His stomach and soft belly stuck out the sides like lava seeping from a volcano. The younger lad had been given a choice—either of the two stocks. He opted for the legs.

  They gasped through cloth jammed in their mouths. The older watchman glared at them with a hatred Tommy had rarely seen. He wouldn’t stay put. He wouldn’t let them do this to him. He was going to try to escape the moment their backs were turned.

  Guy put the stump of his little finger in his mouth and bit it, forming a fresh dribble of blood to spill forth. He ran the blood over the cage’s wire walls.

  “If you prick yourself on any of these sharp rusty protrusions, you’re going to regret it,” Guy said.

  The older watchman snorted. Guy crouched down and stared the boy in the face. “Look at me. What do you see?”

  The watchman rolled his eyes.

  “Look.” Guy’s voice was more forceful than Tommy had ever heard.

  Not to appear cowed, the watchman turned his heavy eyes toward him. So far as Tommy could see, Guy did nothing. He just stared, and for the longest time, the watchman met his eyes. Then something changed. A flicker behind the eyes, a realization. His eyes, having shed their distant misplaced resolve, shifted to Tommy, Emin, and Jimmy. Then his eyes drifted to an empty patch of space, the blood draining from his face.

  Guy stood up and dusted off his hands. “I think we’re done here.”

  They turned to leave and headed in the direction of the carpark the boys had motioned to earlier.

  “What’s the game plan with the carpark?” Emin said.

  “Grab a car and get the hell out of dodge, I imagine,” Guy said. “Does it need to be much more complicated than that?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Tommy said. “We can’t leave without—”

  Behind them, the cage rattled. It was noisy in the quiet square. Tommy sighed. He withdrew his blade. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use this.”

  He approached the watchman in his cage. It shivered and shook harder, grunting around the dirty cloth jammed in his mouth. His eyes widened with fear. Tommy shifted his grip on his blade. The boy squirmed harder, working the cloth out of his mouth.

  “Wait,” Emin said.

  She removed the cloth from the boy’s mouth. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

  The boy nodded. “The carpark. It’s not that way. It’s that way.” He gestured with a sharp jerk of his head.

  “You lied to us?” Tommy said.

  “I’m not lying now.”

  “Why are you telling us this now?”

  The watchman turned away. Admitting his fear was not easy for him. “I don’t want you coming back here.”

  “Not the most hospitable place I’ve ever been,” Guy said. “But I appreciate your honesty.”

  He took the cloth from Emin and jammed it back in the boy’s mouth.

  The gang turned and headed in the new direction.

  “What did you do to him earlier?” Tommy said.

  Emin grinned. “Looks like you put the frighteners on him to me.”

  Guy shrugged. “I let him know what we are. If there’s one thing these guys are scared of after their recent brush with the undead it’s that they’re terrified of becoming one of us.”

  Tommy couldn’t help but smile. The expression on the watchman’s face flashed behind his eyelids again. Delicious.

  “I had no idea you were so cruel.”

  “Comes with the territory, baby. I’m undead now. I have a reputation to live up to.”

  Despite the obvious fear the boys felt, Tommy still expected to hear the lads crying into the night, warning their neighbors and friends about what’d transpired. And he did hear crying, but of a different type. It came from the town square.

  The boys’ quiet mourning was low, evidently not caring whether someone stumbled upon them or not. Fear could be healthy, but too much of anything was never good for you. Tommy only hoped they could do something to end this whole thing before it swallowed the entire country.

  Or worse.

  Glass crunched beneath Tommy’s boot. He retraced his steps. Light from a streetlamp picked out the glittering shards of glass
that littered the alley floor. The shards had been birthed from an adjacent window smashed from the initial zombie wave. It’d been boarded up with cardboard and black tape.

  Tommy gestured for the others to wait. He leaned against the wall and listened to the voices issuing from the building.

  “We’ll have to take to the sewers. It’ll be our last bastion of safety. Those creatures aren’t smart enough to follow us down there. We’ll be safe. So long as everyone shuts the manhole covers behind us, we can always launch an effective defense.”

  Tommy shook his head. And trap yourselves underground with nowhere else to run. Funny how history repeated itself. No doubt this was the same conversation the sewer cult in Austin had before they took to their sewers. And look how well that worked out. . .

  Tommy crouched and crawled along the boardwalk until he reached the window’s other side. He got to his feet and peered around the corner, scanning the area. There would be others on watch duty. The streets appeared empty, but Tommy didn’t believe that a moment. You didn’t suffer a major defeat and then give up on defenses. Instead, you learned from your mistakes. He arched his neck to peer up at the rooftops. If Tommy were in charge, that was where he’d station his men.

  A man appeared on the rooftop of the hardware shop. He wore his hair in a ponytail. Tommy leaned back. The watchman looked this way and that with the air of someone who’d done this countless times and never seen a thing of interest. He turned and continued making his round. Tommy glanced at the other rooftops and saw no other watchmen on duty.

  With limited personnel, they would choreograph their movements so more areas could be covered with the same number of men. Before the man with the ponytail came around again, Tommy spotted another watchman on the library’s rooftop. Tommy had, at best, twenty seconds to reach wherever he wanted to go. It wasn’t a lot of time, but it would have to be enough.

  He turned to the others. “Get to the carpark, find a car that works, any is fine, and bring it around to the front of this building.”

  “What are you going to do?” Emin said.

  “I have to get the key back. We need it.”

  “Do you want help?”