Z-Boat (Book 2): Z-Topia

by Suzanne Robb

  Five minutes later he had the truck loaded with enough guns and ammo to take over a small country. As a side thought he kicked off his boots and grabbed a new pair as well as a new uniform, he didn’t want to risk contaminating himself with the gunk encrusted all over him.

  As he pulled out of the storage yard his implant buzzed.

  “Richards.”

  “We have a development. Someone else has shown up.”

  “Who?”

  “Unable to identify.”

  “Kill them. I want Myers and Lisa. Everyone else is collateral damage, and don’t blow your cover too soon, we still need you in there.”

  * * *

  Dale Allgood shut his display panel ending the call. Years ago he’d had his implant removed on the off chance his father’s plans worked. With Roark and Williams dead, Erdman next, and an epidemic killing hundreds of millions it was time for someone to step forward. The time to put the plan into action was now.

  A few loose ends to take care of, like getting the digital recording from Xiang, but his man in Korea could handle it. He needed to take out Richards, gain control of his army and rise to the position he was destined for.

  He glanced in the mirror and smiled. He would make a good leader, someone with the proper set of morals and principles with which to lead this country.

  * * *

  A figure stood in front of the small structure, crouched low to the ground. This was his chance to prove his allegiance and pull a thorn out of his side all in one shot. He pulled the trigger of his rifle and watched the body crumple to the ground while the crack of his weapon still echoed.

  He walked over to it as another set of headlights rounded the bend. He raised his hands over his head as he recognized Charlie.

  * * *

  Ally watched the road as they turned the corner. A man stood in front of them, gun drawn. A moment later he raised his hands. Charlie waved back at him, but Ally was hesitant to be so trusting.

  “Charlie, could your guy have beaten us here?”

  Charlie laughed. “I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

  “And the body at his feet, that something else you expect of him?”

  Charlie leaned over the steering wheel and squinted his eyes.

  “Well, no, I didn’t expect that, better ask him what the hell happened.”

  Ally didn’t comment, something about his stature and the body at his feet didn’t sit right with her. She noted the beat up car off to the right and the muddy footsteps leading to the front of the cabin, hesitant but sure. Not the way a friend would approach, more like a stalker.

  Ally let Charlie exit the car first and hid the data sticks in her boot while he was distracted. Reaching into her bag she grabbed her gun. The way of her old life came back to her with ease, one simple rule: Kill or be killed.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here so soon.”

  “Give me some credit, Charlie, I figured there would be problems of some kind so headed up here to make sure the place was still secure.”

  Charlie used his boot to roll over the body between them. “What’s the story with him?”

  “I found him sniffing around. When I confronted him he pulled a gun.”

  Ally cleared her throat, feigning boredom with the conversation. Charlie swung his head in her direction and smiled. “Sorry.”

  “Ally, this is Trevor. Trevor this is Ally. The sorry sac between us was a guy named Hank. I had my doubts about him, but never suspected he’d go this far.”

  Trevor reached out a hand and Ally accepted. Cold to the touch, as if he’d been outside much longer than a few minutes. Like someone waiting for his prey.

  “Nice to meet you,” Ally said.

  “You as well, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Trevor’s easy smile set alarm bells off in Ally’s head. Something wasn’t right, with all the shit going down this guy was grinning like a fool.

  Charlie rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get inside, there’s a lot of information to go over.”

  Ally followed behind the two men, wary and unsure.

  * * *

  Luther Dixon watched the undead mob around him thin out. Xiang turned quicker than expected, as a result he was stuck in a secure vehicle waiting for his chance to grab the digital recording.

  He’d kept an eye on the idiot reporter just in case the recording was on his person. Luther opened the door with as little noise as possible. He made his way toward the news van weaving between abandoned cars, bodies, and pile-ups of both.

  A squeak alerted him to something on his right, but before he had a chance to look one of the things was on him. He put his arm up out of habit and felt the teeth sink in. He drew his knife and stuck it into the nasal cavity of the corpse and twisted, smiling as it writhed. A moan ripped from its throat then it fell to the ground dead, again.

  Luther knew there was no time to waste. He sprinted to the news van. The other zombies left him be, he figured they knew he’d be among their ranks soon enough. He flung open the door and climbed inside.

  The middle console and dashboard were clear, when he popped open the glove compartment he smiled. He tapped his implant.

  “Sir, I have the recording. Uploading it now.”

  “I want the physical copy, bring it to me.”

  “Not possible. There were complications. You’ll have to send someone else if you want it.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Luther? Bring the damn thing to me.”

  Luther jammed the small disc into the control panel on the dashboard and hoped there was enough juice in the core left to upload it to the server. A second later he saw the green light indicating a transfer in process.

  “Sir, it’s on the way. Sorry I could not complete the mission.”

  “Why not, what’s going on?”

  “Infected, time short, must go. Dixon, out.”

  Luther used the last of his strength to fight the bacteria in his head trying to control him. He reached for his gun and held it to his temple. A second later a shot echoed inside the small van and a mix of blood and green fluid coated the window shield.

  * * *

  Dale turned off his display panel. So far everything was going to plan, well almost everything. He still needed to hear back from his man regarding Richards, Myers, and the survivor. Nothing like taking care of three birds with one shot. As soon as they were out of the picture he’d make an announcement.

  Erdman needed to be taken care of as well, all in due time. With no heads of firms to stop him, the road to world domination was his to take.

  * * *

  The inside of the cabin was sparse at best, though the weapons room underneath was impressive. The main floor consisted of a basic kitchenette, and a twenty by twenty foot main room that doubled as the sleeping area.

  One look in what passed for the bathroom and Ally decided she would hold it as long as possible. The windows were small, high, and according to Charlie shatter resistant. They sat at a scratched wooden table on chairs that squeaked under their weight.

  Ally positioned her seat so her back was to the wall and she had a view of both the front and back doors. Charlie came up from the basement with a triumphant smile. Trevor followed behind, an impassive expression on his face.

  “I’ll put some water on for coffee, or at least I think that’s what it is. Oh and here, have one of these, have as many as you want.” Charlie laughed.

  Ally caught the freeze dried food rations, memories of militia training campouts flooded her mind. She shook the pouch and tore the top off of the carton, the smell was—unusual. Taking a small bite she forced herself not to gag, food was food. Though she’d rather eat the radiated barnacles they scraped off the Betty Loo every time they docked for repairs

  “Thanks, tastes worse than I remember.”

  “You hate them, but it’s all I have at the moment. I’ll have one of my men bring up some real chow in a couple of days.”

  “Charlie, I don’t give a rat’s ass abo
ut good or bad food, I want to figure out what the hell is going on.”

  Trevor sat in the chair next to her, his discomfort obvious. If Charlie was right, and that was a big if based on the body outside, the cabin was not as secret as she’d hoped, and to her the opposite of safe. Trevor didn’t seem like the kind of guy to kill first and ask questions later. Being one of Richards’s old recruits, he would have been trained to injure, disarm, and then interrogate.

  Did Charlie change methods? She watched as he banged on a pipe protesting to spit out water. She thought about where they were, middle of butthole Texas, and figured the water supply was safe, but didn’t want to take chances.

  “Charlie, why don’t you use bottled water? Our ears would appreciate it.”

  She watched as he disappeared into the downstairs hatch once again. Trevor didn’t move his eyes from the door, like he was waiting for someone to barrel through at any minute. Thoughts of the car, the path of the footprints, and the lack of shock displayed at having to take out one of his own men made her wonder.

  “Trevor, do you have an extra display panel? We have a lot of information to go over.”

  “Yeah, out in the car. I’ll go grab it.”

  Ally watched him walk out the door without a care in the world, all his stress gone as he went outside. Strange for someone who caught an intruder less than an hour ago, unless it happened a different way.

  “Where’s Trevor? You scare him off already?” Charlie asked as he headed to the counter to make the coffee.

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t trust anyone. Trevor’s my number one guy. He’s been with me longer than anyone, came over from Richards’s side to join me in the very beginning.”

  Ally raised an eyebrow. “All the more reason. Anyway, where would he park his car?”

  “Ally, what the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “Humor me.”

  “Fine, on the side, where Hank parked. It’s the safest place and lets those approaching know who’s present.”

  Ally went to the door. She watched as Trevor returned from a path from the woods. Hank, the bad guy, parked in the spot to let others know he was there. Trevor, the good guy, parked somewhere in the woods so no one would know he was here.

  “Here, drink this.”

  Ally sniffed the tar black substance in her cup and placed it on the table.

  The door opened and Trevor stomped his boots free of mud on the front stoop. Must have rained earlier in the day. She wondered if the acid affected the zombies. A display panel appeared in front of her vision and she grabbed it with a murmured thanks.

  She flipped it open and ran a diagnostics program to backtrack all communications sent or received from it. She flipped through the news channels and settled on the least biased one.

  * * *

  “Mr. Allgood, we’re ready for you.” The news assistant motioned him out of the waiting room and into the hallway.

  “Just follow the arrows on the ground, when you get to the dais start whenever you’re ready.”

  Dale dismissed the woman with a negligent wave. He straightened his tie, slicked his hair back, made sure his bodyguards were close, and headed toward destiny.

  The podium offered nothing special, the date ordinary, a Tuesday in March. But one which would never be forgotten, one that would go down in history as the day the United States took back its rightful spot as a world power.

  The green light flickered on as he placed his hands down, he was live. With a snake oil charmer’s smile he spoke.

  “My name is Dale Allgood, most of you don’t know me, but soon enough you’ll see I am what this country needs. I will put the citizens first. Put an end to this epidemic running rampant across the continents.” He paused for dramatic effect, while calculating how many millions of people still needed to die in order for him to be able to hold onto the power. “You think your leaders care about you? You think the firms give a damn about whether you live or die? You’re just a number, a pathetic mouth to feed they’d rather not deal with, and before you scoff, watch this, it speaks for itself.”

  Dale hit a few buttons on the panel and the voices of Roark talking to Brian Xiang played. The words were condemning. After it finished he put up the messages between Henry Williams and Roark about not caring about what was happening, and the role Russia played in the plague taking over their planet. Dale didn’t have anything on Erdman, but that didn’t matter. Two out of three giants fell in the eyes of the world at large, the fact he was still on air proved what he was saying to those watching. They didn’t know Williams and Roark were dead, and he didn’t plan on telling them. Not yet at least.

  “As you can see, I’m telling the truth. I’m not the liar here. I want to make this world a better place. I need people to unite with me, to fight against this disease, and take down the firms that have run this world into the hellish shape it’s in. We can rise once again, if we work together.”

  Dale stepped away from the dais and the screen in front of him went back to its normal programming. He nodded, only a few pieces of trash left to take out. His contact was late getting back to him on the status of Myers and Richards, if he didn’t hear by morning he’d take the risk and contact him.

  Chapter Thirteen—

  Ally shut the display unit and looked at Charlie. His expression mirrored hers. Dale Allgood had just taken control of the world. He promised to eradicate the plague, even though there was no cure. Convenient of him to leave that message out of Williams’s dirty laundry.

  “How many people do you suppose saw that?” Charlie asked.

  “Doesn’t matter, they’ll play it over and over again. No one cut the power or edited it, that can mean only one thing. News of the controlling firms losing power will spread like wildfire.”

  Charlie threw his hands up. “But he can’t fix what’s happening. He just lied to billions of people.”

  “Charlie, think about it. The fact there is a zombie pandemic, whatever you want to call it, makes this the perfect time for him to come out. People are more than desperate for a leader, especially one who will tell them what they want to hear.”

  “Trevor, what do you think? You have an opinion?” Ally asked.

  Lights flashed across one of the windows.

  “Crap, get down,” Charlie hissed.

  Ally was at the light switch in seconds and had them out. She crouched low, went to the front door and engaged the lock. She held her gun chest high and waited. Charlie made it to the window a few feet down from her and took a quick look outside.

  “Is there anyone who doesn’t know about your damn secret hideout, Charlie?” Ally said in a low tone.

  The sound of a door slamming cut off any response he was about to offer up. No footsteps could be heard. Ally glanced at Trevor who hadn’t moved from his seat, but did have his gun out, aimed at her.

  “Trevor, what the hell are you doing?”

  Charlie’s right hand man stood to his full height and smiled, there was nothing warm about it. He opened his mouth to speak when the muffled sound of a gunshot was heard. Trevor tapped his implant.

  “For Christ’s sake man, this is not the time to call for back-up, get your ass over here.”

  A voice called from outside, “Open up, please. I need help.”

  Ally watched as a confused look crossed Charlie’s face. He glanced at Ally and motioned he was going to peek out the window. She nodded and lowered her gun.

  “It’s Hank, and he has Richards. We need to get the hell out of here, it’s a set-up.” Charlie moved to the back of the cabin, but Ally kept her eye on Trevor.

  She raised her weapon and aimed. “Trevor, put down your weapon and have a seat. Charlie get some restraints on him.”

  “Ally, come on—”

  “Do it.”

  Trevor didn’t resist, but the smile she caught on his face in the brief light told her volumes, and she didn’t like what she read. She opened the door toward her, s
taying hidden, and letting in a bit more illumination. Richards stumbled a bit as Hank kicked him forward.

  Ally caught the fear as it crossed Trevor’s face. The other man they’d assumed dead came in after. He reached out for support and finding none, fell to the ground. “Charlie, Trevor’s a mole,” he said then passed out.

  Richards tried to take the opportunity to get Hank’s gun. Ally’s instinct took over, adrenaline keeping her on her feet, and she rather enjoyed the annoyed expression on Richards’s face a second before she pistol whipped him into dream land.

  She ran to the lights and flipped them on. Charlie grabbed another pair of wrist restraints, and Ally noted with satisfaction a set of ankle ones as well. Trevor squirmed, and Ally spared him a moment to see Charlie had gagged him as well.

  Hank lay in a pool of blood, cutting off the straps of his protective vest with her pocket knife Ally examined his wound. The shooter, whoever it was, got lucky and shot into the small juncture between the shoulder and chest to allow the wearer ease of movement.

  It wasn’t fatal, and she guessed Hank played dead, in hopes of getting away later, or perhaps he suspected Richards to show. Either way she wanted to patch him up so she could interrogate him and figure out who the hell were the good guys, if there were any. She accepted the first aid kit and went to work. An hour later she applied the bandage and made sure to inject Hank with a shot of antibiotics.