by Suzanne Robb
There had been several close calls, more than Charlie wanted to admit, but so far they’d done well. Though his definition of well was “no one else had been killed.” Another dog leapt at him while two others distracted him. He fired a shot into its torso causing the chest to explode, he saw it in slow motion as if an accordion of ribs spread open then closed again before blowing apart.
Trevor and Mona held off a group of three that circled them looking for a weak point. Trevor must have gotten annoyed or frustrated because he fired at will. One of his shots hit the mark and as the head exploded a liquid like substance spread out everywhere, once again Charlie felt like it moved toward him and the others.
Mona took out a machete and lopped the head off the second one. “I don’t want that crap on me,” she said, pointing to the puddle of ooze pooling on the ground.
Charlie glanced all around him and realized the liquids spilling out of the dead dogs was heading toward them, it wasn’t his imagination.
“We need to get moving now. I’ve got no idea what the hell is going on, but I’m damn sure this crap isn’t healthy to be around.”
All three turned on the last dog who snarled at them. Three shots later it lay on the ground. Charlie turned and ran out of the chaos they were surrounded by. He got a bad feeling and wanted to wipe off his boots. He wished he could take a shower and scrub himself for an hour or four.
Chapter Eight—
Ally waited for the next blow, but it never came. Richards stared at her and shook his head. If he thought acting disappointed in her would do anything, they were going to be here a long time.
“You never got a chance to know your parents, as for your grandfather, he was weak. He filled your head with garbage about doing the right thing and morals. I should’ve known when you first came to us. You were always a bit different, acted like you were better than everyone else.”
“Not everyone, just you.”
She wanted her comment to make him lash out again. The last few times caused the bindings on her wrists to loosen. Just a few more whacks and she’d be able to get free, of course she needed to be conscious. She heard footsteps outside followed by a rapid knock at the door.
“What is it?” Richards yelled in an annoyed voice.
A man’s breathless voice: “Sir, we just found half the guard dogs down in the outer perimeter, we have a breach.”
Richards walked to his window and lifted the curtains aside. He peered all around then stood back. Ally watched him march to the door, leaning back she tried to overhear as much of the conversation as she could.
“Send out some of our new recruits. Let’s see how well they work. According to the captain they haven’t been fed in weeks, they should zero in on our unwanted guests rather fast.”
The door slammed and he returned to lean against his desk.
“I thought we’d have more time to catch up on old times, go over the reasons for your betrayal and all that. Unfortunately, some people are crashing our little reunion. For the time being I’m going to keep you somewhere safe.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He leaned forward and dragged it across her cheek. She felt a few beads of blood form and drip onto her chest. He undid her restraints, and she took the opportunity to fight for her life. Enough time had been wasted sitting around.
She pushed herself into him using her legs to propel her. They fell back onto the display panel and a small pile of maps crashing to the floor. She grabbed his wrist, and whacked it on the edge of the table causing the knife to fall.
In a move too fast for her to block he reached over with his other hand and smashed it on the side of her head. Disoriented for a moment, he was able to gain control and switch their positions.
Richards grabbed both her wrists and held them above her head, with a lecherous smile he spoke, “Have to say, might be fun to have a taste. I like it when my women fight back.”
Ally tried to knee him in the groin, but lacked the room to get sufficient momentum. As he leaned down he stuck out his tongue and licked her face. She squirmed beneath him and turned her head to the side.
“I’m going to kill you,” she ground out.
“Not today,” he said.
The exact opportunity she needed. Whipping her head around she bit his ear and yanked, half of the bottom lobe came off. She spit out the warm, blood-covered bit of flesh as he jumped back screaming. She straightened herself and punched him square in the jaw. A tooth went flying across the room, hitting a window.
“Bitch, you’re gonna pay for that,” he yelled.
Ally shrugged then hit him again using her elbow, knocked off balance he stumbled to his knees. She picked up the chair and whacked him across the back of the shoulders with it, shattering it into several tiny bits. One last knee to the face breaking his nose and sending him to la la land, an oldie but goodie, and her work was done.
She grabbed the ropes and tied him up, then dragged him behind his desk and shoved him underneath it. Glancing around the room she pulled down one of the curtain cords and used it as a gag for when he came to.
Familiar with his tactics she searched all the drawers, behind all pictures, and in his clothes for key cards, data sticks, but more importantly a weapon. She found two pistols, a knife, a long range rifle, one flash grenade, and one decimator. She hesitantly grabbed the latter, it was one of Richards’s proudest inventions.
A small item, no larger than a baseball, round in shape. Inside were bits of rough metal coated in a toxin that paralyzed those it came in contact with. He nicknamed it “decimator” because the blast radius was almost ten yards. Everything within that range would die from the blast or a toxin-coated bit of metal embedded in them.
The first time she’d seen it used had been on a group of people he’d claimed were traitors. Terrorists from some place she’d never heard of. He tossed the thing into the middle, and after it went off walked among them putting a bullet in the head of whoever still moved. Too impatient to wait for the toxin to kill them. Ally had been thirteen at the time.
Weapons in hand, and pocket, she approached the door quietly. No movement heard outside, but Richards was the type to keep a few men close by for added security. Shots rang out and then screaming and moaning echoed across the compound. A feral smile made its way onto her face, time to kill some bad guys.
* * *
Charlie moved forward once again, for the last ten minutes things had been too easy. The minute he thought it, he knew he’d jinxed himself. The moaning a dead giveaway to his superstitious thought.
He held his hand up to stop Trevor and Mona, lowering his glasses he counted eight bodies. He’d bet his left nut they were part of the cargo Richards picked up. Charlie shook his head at the depths to which his former leader had sunk.
“All right guys, we have several undead coming for us. They’re hungry, which means they’ll be unpredictable, but not as strong.”
They spread out, drew their pistols, and moved forward in increments. When they were within firing range of the walking corpses, a noise to the left alerted them to more company.
“Goddammit, does everything have to be a damn fight?” Charlie exclaimed.
They now had over a dozen zombies to the left. These well fed and strong from the speed they were moving. Fresh blood covered them from head to toe.
“Let’s start taking these bastards out,” Trevor said.
Charlie didn’t waste time being upset the man didn’t wait for orders, he was right. As they took their shots a building to the north of them caught his eye, he remembered it from the few times he’d been here. Richards’s office, that’s where the survivor would be.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Charlie took aim, headshots as often as possible. For every one they took down, it seemed three popped up. Of course when they closed in on the side of the building they realized that was exactly what was happening.
Hundreds of zombies poured out of the structure, Charlie knew they couldn’t kill them
all so he tried to move them as close to the main pen as possible. If they could rescue the survivor and get the hell out, everything would be fine.
A hundred feet from the building the office door opened, Charlie stopped and hit the ground as did Trevor and Mona. They watched as a shadow appeared, then a body stepped out. Charlie wanted to scream, it couldn’t be her, he wasn’t that lucky.
He scrambled to his feet and broke into a run forgetting about the zombies, as soon as he was within range he yelled out to her.
“Lisa, over here!”
He saw her head turn in his direction, and watched as she raised her rifle. Damn, she didn’t know he left Richards. About to yell out once more, the shots whizzed by his head. He turned in slow motion and saw two zombie heads blown to bits, gore and other disgusting things coating him. Then one of Richards’s guards hit the ground, his knee blown out.
As he went down the zombies that had been chasing him stopped to munch on the fresh meat. Charlie took the opportunity to get to Lisa. He needed to explain things.
“Stop right there, Charlie, just because I saved your pathetic ass doesn’t mean I like you, or trust you. As far as I’m concerned you work for Richards and deserve to die, but I’m going to wait to kill you until I get some answers and you help me get the hell out of this place.”
* * *
Ally pulled the lever back and reloaded the rifle. Two zombies were closing in on Charlie. She couldn’t believe it was him at first, but when she looked through the scope to blow his head off she recognized him. She hoped saving his sorry ass wasn’t a mistake.
The tell-tale sound of moaning alerted her to company on the left. She jumped off the balcony and met Charlie halfway. When they were within ten feet of one another she turned her back and took out three zombies then tossed the emptied rifle to the ground.
Reaching for her waist she pulled out the small pistol she found, about eleven shots based on its weight. She fired off a few, and then remembered she had her back to another enemy.
“Just so you know, if you turn on me, I’ll put you down.”
“Lisa, I’m not who you think I am,” he yelled over the sound of her gunfire.
Ally scanned the area realizing his weapon made no noise. Charlie was using a silenced weapon, why? The rest of Richards’s guards were using normal guns. A moment later she stopped thinking, it was time to fight. Twenty undead surrounded them, and they looked pretty damn hungry.
Ally kicked out the knee of a severely decomposing corpse, the cap slipped free of its socket and the bottom portion of the leg went sideways with a sickening pop. Knocked off balance the zombie fell to the ground, with one solid stomp she crushed its head.
They’d taken care of about half of the mob, but they still came. Ally noticed Charlie kept hitting his implant and whispering. He must have back up or was getting ready to pull the rug out from under her feet.
She saw a seven foot tall zombie approach, why her? She jabbed it in the stomach, remembering the move was pointless against them, his ribcage bent under her wrist and she felt a small bubble of bile rise in her throat.
She grabbed the small pocket knife then stepped around the zombie in a rapid movie. Raising the small blade high she did a roundhouse kick into its spine and thankfully snapped it on the first try.
The behemoth fell to its knees, and she jammed the knife into its ear. Ooze came out and got on her hand. She pulled it away and shook it off. Something about it felt wrong and bothered her. A decayed arm swung at her and when she raised her head she gasped in shock.
“No, it can’t be.”
Ally froze, looking at the face of death. The face of a ghost. Someone who should be dead on the bottom of the ocean. She stared into the eyes of the man she loved. Marcus snapped at her, and lunged. This time his arm came in contact with her. A gift for her, she him back.
“Lisa, snap out of it or that thing’s going to kill you,” Charlie yelled.
Ally felt his strong arms grab her and closed her eyes as his face leaned in to nuzzle her neck. A sting on her ear, then the grip loosened and Marcus fell to the ground. She opened her eyes, angry at the loss of contact. She caught Charlie winking at her, then go back to dealing with the dead by him.
Ally grabbed her discarded rifle and used it like a baseball bat. Marcus was dead because of the people here. She whacked one in the head so hard the skull cracked like an egg. Brains poured out like a rotten yolk. She stared at it for a second fascinated as fault lines appeared as the flesh tore apart. One more crack finished the job.
A woman popped up in front of her, not more than twenty. Ally grabbed the rifle with both hands, and brought it back using her full body momentum to bash in the face. The butt of the rifle bounced off. Damn, this was a new one. She backed up a few steps so she was within yelling distance of Charlie.
“Hey, Charlie could use your help here. I got a fresh one with a dense head.” She hoped he would help. Even if he was a bastard, she knew Richards wanted her alive.
“Okay, you take these two then, they’re not so new.”
Ally swapped places with Charlie and stood facing two men, about six feet tall. She heard the shot as Charlie took the girl. She still had these two to deal with. Somehow the trade didn’t seem fair now that she thought about it.
They lunged at her, causing her to stop ruminating and defend herself. The rifle knocked out of her hand, she grabbed the knife and stuck it in the open mouth of the one closest to her. She pushed up as hard as she could and as soon as she saw the tip of the blade peek out of the top of the greasy skull she twisted.
The zombie fell to the ground as spasms took over. More ooze leaked onto her hand, and as much as she wanted to rub it off she didn’t have time. Zombie number two grabbed her arm causing her to lose her balance. She would be happy when she caught a minute to build back up her strength.
They both tumbled to the ground, Ally landing on top. Her knee sunk into the stomach and she felt warm fluid soaking through her pants. Every instinct told her to get the hell off, but she had to kill the damn thing.
Hands reached up for her, scratching at her clothes. Ally stopped them. She pinned them under each leg then grabbed the first thing she put her hands on and smashed the head in of the groaning zombie.
When she finished she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around ready to take down whatever undead creature was attacking her now. Charlie stood there, and raised his hands in a pacifying manner.
“Take it easy, they’re all down. We have a window of opportunity to get the hell out of here. Go with those two over there, Trevor and Mona. They’ll get you somewhere safe.”
Ally stood, wiping her hands on her shirt. “Where are you going?”
“I want to see if any data can be recovered from Richards’s office, then find and kill the bastard.”
“No need, I have all the information, and right now he’s more useful alive than dead.”
Charlie stared at her long and hard then glanced toward the office. Voices could be heard approaching, and she knew he needed to make his mind up now.
“Fine, we go, but you need to take off your clothes. You’re covered in that stuff, can’t risk contamination.”
Ally raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told. If she had to be honest she was glad to strip out of what she wore, they were nasty and rancid but worst of all reminded her of life on the Betty Loo. Within seconds she stood there clad only in a t-shirt, underwear, and her boots.
Charlie looked away, then sighed as he took off his protective gear, pulled a black sweatshirt over his head, and handed it to her. Ally slipped it on, glad it reached her thighs.
He grabbed her arm as he turned, and they met up with the other two. When they heard snarls they broke out into a full blown race for their lives. After ten minutes they were panting heavily, but the sound of dog feet pounding the ground behind them was all the motivation needed to keep going.
They reached a fence and climbed it, made it over the top, and wh
en she landed on the other side Ally saw the things chasing them. Guardians of Hell came to mind, Richards had made zombie dogs, sick bastard. Perhaps she should have killed him.
An engine roared and a hand grabbed her arm tossing her into the back seat of a truck. As it peeled away she looked at Charlie. His eyes were wet with tears and she wondered if this was another set up. She didn’t trust anyone, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t play along to get the information she needed.
Chapter Nine—
Richards woke with a headache and the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Bitch broke his nose. He’d kill her for that. He wormed his way out from underneath his desk, and used a shard of the broken lamp to cut himself free from the binds.
He stood and untied the gag from around his mouth. He flung it across the room, anger flared when he noticed she ransacked his office and got away with some key data sticks. If she decrypted them he’d be ruined.
Richards eyed the spot on the floor where he kept his safe, it looked untouched. He walked over, knelt down, and moved the small carpet to the side. He lifted up the wooden covering and keyed in the code. The seal hissed as he pulled the door open. He sighed in relief, she hadn’t found this. He heard a scream outside and wondered if maybe she didn’t have the time to find it.
Grabbing a gun, he shut the safe and covered it up. Now he needed to go and find out what the hell he was paying his guards for, and catch their prisoner before she escaped.
He opened the door and stepped out with caution. He clicked the radio on his side to connect with his people.
“This is Richards. All available men come to the main building now.”
He stood on the porch and waited several minutes. No sounds whatsoever. On edge he glanced around for any sign of movement. The light by the door shattered, a bullet hole in the wall the suspect. He reached into his pocket for a small penlight and searched around the area closest to the office.