Serial Killer Z [Book 1]

by Philip Harris

  I nodded.

  Mike didn’t speak as we made our way back to the camp, and I was grateful for the silence. I wasn’t ready to continue our earlier conversation—I might never have been.

  Alex was waiting outside the lodge when we got back. He was looking at the shattered window, appraising the damage. Mike joined him on the walkway and picked at the shards of broken glass. “Where’s Lucy?”

  “She’s upstairs. I got the sense she wasn’t really interested in talking to me. Or anyone else for that matter.”

  Mike gave a little nod. He pointed toward the window. “See if you can find some wood and board that up. I’ll make some food.”

  Alex gave a mock salute. “Sure thing, Captain.” He walked around the side of the lodge, toward the woodpile.

  Mike frowned. “Marcus…”

  I was about to ask him why he looked annoyed when he pointed toward my feet. I looked down. I was standing in the middle of the dark patch of earth where Charles had breathed his last. I flinched and took a few steps to the side. Mike shook his head and went into the lodge as I scuffed my shoes across the ground.

  Wary of Mike wanting to continue our discussion, I stayed outside and wandered around the camp under the pretense of checking the perimeter. It was still intact. Apparently, Charles hadn’t been too insane to avoid walking into it.

  Perimeter secure, I sat in one of the chairs outside the lodge. There was still a dark smear on the door where the hand had been nailed, and a few dried spatters on the walkway. Alex was working on the broken window. He’d dragged some serviceable planks to the front of the lodge and nailed a couple of the smaller ones across the opening. The two remaining pieces were far too big. Now he was digging around inside the old metal toolbox from beside the generator.

  With a look of almost childlike delight, he pulled out a small wood saw. It was short, and the blade was rusty, but it was serviceable enough. Alex propped one of the planks up against the side of the lodge and began to saw.

  I could see what was going to happen almost immediately. The plank bowed as Alex pressed the saw against it. The blade skipped across the wood, barely missing his fingers. He repeated the process, being more careful, and the blade dug into the wood. A couple of minutes later, the plank was cut unevenly in half. Alex hammered the pieces into place.

  A gap, roughly six inches high, ran along the bottom of the window. Alex set about cutting the final plank to size. Either he’d forgotten his near miss with the first piece, or the wood was particularly hard, but the saw slid sideways again. It skipped across the plank and sliced into Alex’s hand. He yelled, dropping the saw and letting the wood fall to the ground.

  He clutched his hand, his face twisted into a grimace. “Goddammit!”

  He lifted his fingers and peered at the wound. His face turned pale. He grabbed his hand again, his frown deepening. Blood oozed from between his fingers.

  Mike stepped out of the lodge just as I got to Alex.

  “You okay?” Mike said.

  “Goddamned saw slipped.”

  “Let me take a look,” I said.

  Alex held out his arm and turned away. “Is it bad?”

  I lifted his hand so that I could see the damage. There was a cut across the soft part of his palm. It was bleeding profusely, but he hadn’t severed anything important. His biggest concern would be tetanus.

  “You’ll live, but you might need stitches.” I turned to Mike. “There’s a medical kit in the kitchen.”

  Mike nodded and went back inside.

  I placed Alex’s fingers on either side of the wound. “Press the edges together.”

  He gave it a tentative squeeze.

  “Harder. As hard as you can.”

  He whimpered but did as I’d asked.

  Mike reappeared, holding the medical kit and the bottle of antiseptic. It was half-empty, but there was enough to clean the wound.

  I searched through the kit, hoping to find some sort of tetanus vaccine, but if there had been one, it had already been used. I found plenty of bandages, including some small butterfly ones. There was a needle and suture thread as well, but with luck, and if Alex was careful, the bandages would be sufficient. I wouldn’t need to sew the wound up.

  I uncapped the bottle of antiseptic, and the vapor stung my eyes. I turned Alex’s hand over. “This is going to hurt.”

  He closed his eyes then opened them then closed them again. When I splashed the antiseptic on the cut, he let out a scream that was going to get the attention of anything within a two-mile radius. I considered reminding him of our situation but kept my mouth shut. He was the closest thing I had to an ally in this group, and I needed to keep it that way.

  Alex had calmed himself down by the time I got the butterfly bandages in place. I wrapped a cloth bandage around his hand. I was actually quite proud of the job I’d done. It was neat and tidy. If he was careful for the next couple of days and didn’t pull the wound open, he wouldn’t have to go through the pain of actual stitches.

  I told him as much, and he nodded gratefully. His brow was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, and he looked paler than ever, but otherwise, he seemed okay. The threat of tetanus obviously hadn’t occurred to him. I didn’t mention it. There wasn’t anything I could do anyway.

  I led him inside and guided him toward a seat, playing the good doctor. Once he was settled, I told him I’d get him a drink, and he smiled.

  Lucy had come back downstairs, and she was sitting next to Mike. They were leaning over the coffee table, looking at a large sheet of paper. I didn’t realize what it was until Alex said, “What are you looking at, Mike?”

  “It’s a map,” Mike said, and he looked up at me, the suspicion back in his eyes.

  Chapter 29

  The Map

  After a moment’s hesitation, I frowned. “A map?”

  “Yes. It was in a backpack in the kitchen. I found it when I was looking for the medical kit.”

  Frustration radiated through me. I’d left the backpack where anyone could find it. There must have been a dozen opportunities for me to hide it, but I’d let the intruders in my sanctuary distract me and forgotten.

  I ignored the waves of suspicion radiating off Mike and Lucy. “Is it useful?”

  “Oh yeah, very.” Mike tapped his finger on the map. I knew what he’d found without looking. “There’s a ranger station north of here. If the map is accurate, the terrain’s pretty rough. It will take us three or four days to get there. That helicopter we keep seeing must be holed up somewhere, and the station is the most obvious choice.”

  My stomach did a flip. I didn’t want them getting the military’s attention. “We don’t know who has the helicopter. There are dangerous people out there.”

  Mike fixed his gaze on me, and I felt a flood of discomfort. “I think it’s worth the risk. This place is pretty safe, but a military or even a civilian compound is going to be even better. There may be other survivors there. And food.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, man,” Alex said. “Four days is a long time. We’re safe here; you said so yourself. What if we get there and the station’s abandoned?”

  “I think it’s a risk worth taking,” Mike said, and Lucy voiced her agreement.

  Mike tapped another part of the map. For a moment I was afraid he’d spotted the workshop, but when I looked he was pointing at Sally’s Home Comforts.

  “We’ll need supplies for the journey. I assume this is the store you found?”

  I made a show of checking out the map, my brow furrowed. “Maybe… yes, probably. I don’t recognize the name.”

  “How much food did you say was there?”

  A sudden realization dawned on me—a solution to my problem. “Lots. There’s more than enough to get you to the ranger station.”

  “You wouldn’t come with us?”

  I shook my head. “I’d rather stay here.”

  Lucy stared at me across the map. “That’s fine with me.”

 
“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Maybe I should wait with Marcus. You guys can bring the military to get us when you find them.”

  A knot of dread formed in my stomach, fueled by Alex’s words. I was so close to getting rid of them.

  I tried to think of something to say to discourage Alex, but Lucy intervened on my behalf. “I don’t think Marcus likes company,” she said, her words laden with ice.

  “But—”

  Mike cut Alex off. He was looking at me. “You should come with us, Alex. It’ll be safer.”

  I wondered if he meant safer than staying with me.

  Alex started to protest.

  “Mike’s right,” I said. “There’s safety in numbers.”

  “Then come with us,” Alex said.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Lucy clenching her teeth.

  I sighed, turning my reply into a confession. “I can’t go out there again. It was… difficult for me. I’d rather take my chances here.”

  I could see the gears turning behind Alex’s eyes as he fought to find a more persuasive angle to take. In the end, he just nodded and leaned back in his chair.

  “When are you going?” I said, flinching inside when I realized how eager I sounded.

  “We’ll make the supply run tomorrow,” Mike said. He ran his finger across the map. “We can take the quad bikes along this road, load them up with supplies, and bring them back here. Marcus, you can show us the way, in case the map’s not accurate.”

  I almost told him that no, the map was definitely right, but I caught myself in time.

  “We’ll come back to the lodge with you then go on to the ranger station. We’ll take as much of the food as we can carry; the rest can stay here. Think of it as payment for helping us.”

  It wasn’t a terrible idea. If it worked out and they left, I’d have supplies to last me through the winter. I struggled to find a reason for me to stay at the lodge while they went on the supply run but couldn’t. I nodded.

  Alex was still unsure. “What about fuel?”

  “The bikes should have enough to get us there and back, but there’s a gas station. We can refuel if we need to.”

  I shook my head. “It was destroyed by a fire.”

  “Maybe there’s some stored nearby,” Lucy said.

  I started to say that there couldn’t be, but her eyes told me I’d be better off keeping my mouth closed.

  “We’ll have to risk it,” Mike said. “Worst case: we leave the bikes behind and carry what we can on foot.”

  “What about biters?” Alex said.

  “The quad bikes will be quicker than they are. As long as we keep moving, we should be fine.”

  If we don’t meet a swarm, I thought. I didn’t mention that particular pitfall. This plan was the best way to get the camp to myself. I wasn’t going to shoot holes in it.

  “Okay,” Mike said. “Any other questions?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  At last, I could see a way out of this mess, and I had to stop myself from smiling.

  Mike scooped up the map and carefully folded it. “Okay. We should get some rest. We’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

  Chapter 30

  Home Comforts

  I don’t know about the others, but I didn’t get much sleep. I was tense, nervous about Mike changing his mind about the trip or that Alex might decide to stay at the camp instead of heading to the ranger station when they left. I knew it wasn’t really going to happen, but I was desperate for them to leave. No, I needed them to leave so that I could get my sanctuary back.

  When I wasn’t cooking up new disaster scenarios, my mind was filled with images of Charles’s corpse. The jagged rip in his throat, the bloody knife in my hand.

  It was the first time I had been solely responsible for a kill. The shadow had been there, of course—it always was—but my actions were my own. I’d crossed a line and opened a pathway. It was just a crack, a tiny sliver, but the shadow had grown stronger since the kill. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to control it again. I could feel it constantly now—a low-grade, ever-present hunger that threatened to swell into a wave of blackness that would break through that crack and come crashing over me. And when it did, there would be nothing I could do.

  Eventually, sleep did come for me, but when I woke the next morning, my mind was fuzzy with the remnants of a dream. Every time I reached to remember the details, it slipped away. The weight of it dragged me down, almost pinning me to the bed. Even turning over was an effort. I wanted nothing more than to lie there and let the world fall apart without me.

  I waited in bed until Alex came to wake me. When he hammered on the door, I feigned bleariness and told him I’d be down shortly.

  Ten minutes later, I walked downstairs. Mike and Alex were already outside, checking the quad bikes. Lucy was in the kitchen. Four small piles of supplies, food and water for the trip, lay on the table. I wondered if she’d been the one to prepare the meals and, if so, whether I should check mine for poison. The thought she might be plotting to kill me brought Charles to mind again. What if he’d been right?

  Lucy barely acknowledged me. She loaded three of the piles into backpacks. Mine she left on the table.

  As she walked out of the room, I said, “Lucy, I really am sorry about Charles.”

  She stopped in the doorway, her back to me. “I know.” For a moment I thought I’d found a crack, an opening I could use to repair at least some of the damage. Then she said, “I just don’t care.” She walked out, not waiting for my reply.

  I grabbed my backpack and dropped the supplies into it. Truth be told, I didn’t care what Lucy thought of me. Not on a personal level. My interest in building bridges between us came from a desire to ease her suspicion. Her anger would make her alert. She’d be looking for me to make another mistake. I couldn’t afford to let my mask slip again.

  I ate a breakfast of protein bars then hung around in the kitchen, fiddling with my pack until I heard the quad bikes start up.

  Outside, Mike and Lucy were checking the bikes’ storage racks. They’d tied rope around them and were strapping the backpacks in place. I handed mine to Mike. Lucy slipped the green medical kit inside hers and lifted it onto the rack. Alex was leaning against the lodge, looking pensive.

  Mike had two pistols. He gave one to Lucy and kept the other for himself. I averted my eyes, pretending I hadn’t noticed he didn’t offer me a weapon.

  Lucy checked her pack was secure one last time and climbed onto the bike. “Come on, Alex, you’re riding with me.”

  I waited for Mike to finish checking his bike and climb on before I joined him. The topic of who should drive never came up. My only concern was that he’d want to pick up our conversation on the way to the store, but as we rolled out of the camp along the rutted track that would take us to the highway, it was obvious the engines would drown out any attempt at conversation.

  Mike led the way, keeping our speed high. The trees flew by as the bike bumped and bounced over the dips and ruts in the trail. More than once, I almost lost my grip. It wasn’t a great leap of the imagination to picture me falling off the seat and Lucy accelerating her bike over my head, splitting it like a zombie’s skull and solving the problem of what to do with the killer in their midst once and for all. It only took half an hour to get to the highway, but by the time we did, my hands ached from gripping on so tight.

  We passed a dozen or so zombies on the highway—just pockets of one or two, no swarms. As Mike had predicted, we were past them before they’d had a chance to register our existence. A couple did try to chase us. They were quicker and more coordinated than the others, but even then, there was no way they could catch us.

  An hour or so later we reached Sally’s Home Comforts. As we crested a hill and the remains of the gas station came into sight, Mike held up his hand and pulled over to the side of the road. Lucy stopped beside him, and they turned off their engines.

  Mike pointed down toward the store. “I see
two.”

  He was right. There was a pair of zombies standing stock still a few feet away from the entrance. I wondered if it might be the couple I’d found hanging inside, but they were both businessmen by the look of their suits. They seemed to be the only zombies in the vicinity, and they hadn’t seen us.

  “Now what?” Lucy said.

  “You three stay here. I’ll go ahead on foot and take care of them. When I give the all clear, bring the quad bikes down. Park them outside the store, close to the door.”

  Lucy nodded.

  “Marcus,” Mike said. “You’ll need to drive this bike.”

  Alex tutted, but Lucy’s elbow shut him up.

  “No problem,” I said.

  Mike got off the bike and checked his gun and knife. When Lucy saw him keep the knife out and put the gun away, she frowned. He crouched low and ran across the road, staying close to the trees as he made his way down the hill. My heart quickened as he approached the gas station. I clenched my fists, and the palms were slick with sweat, although I couldn’t tell you whose safety I was most concerned for—his or the zombies’.

  We watched the zombies standing outside the store, searching for a sign that they’d seen Mike. They were almost motionless, just rocking slightly as though they were trees swaying in a breeze.

  When Mike reached the gas station, he slowed down. After pausing for a couple of minutes at the edge of the blackened forecourt, he ran to the side of the building, glancing left and right as he crossed the open space. The zombies still hadn’t seen him, and nothing had come lumbering out of the shadows.

  They were standing next to each other, about ten feet from the entrance to the store, looking out across the road. Mike would need to go around the back of the building if he wanted to get to them without being seen. Still crouched, he crept along the side of the gas station and out of sight.

  A couple of minutes later, he came sprinting out from behind the station. The knife flashed in his hand as he ran. He made it to within twenty feet of the zombies before they heard him. As one, they turned around and lurched forward. I caught sight of movement from the corner of the store, and another zombie appeared, heading straight toward Mike.