Ascension, The Zombie Chronicles 3

by Mark Clodi

  Pulling the blade out with her right hand she got up on her hands and knees to assess her situation. More bullets peppered the ground around her.

  'Zombie vision, no fucking fair assholes!'

  Stewart shoved herself down the hill at a slant that would bring her closer to where the women were than the men. Sure enough the shoulder shot girl had been trying to make her way around Stewart's flank. By the time Stewart saw her, the woman was already aiming her rifle.

  The bullets flew in a burst from the gun and Stewart gave in fully her instincts. She didn't escape unscathed; one bullet grazed her thigh, a deep, bloody wound, that adrenaline surged to overcome. Stewart didn't drop to the ground; the other zombies would be coming for her and she doubted she would have time to recover before they were on her.

  'It's like I am riding in the backseat of a fast car.' She thought, trying to keep up with what was going on. If anything it appeared to her that the zombies were moving slowly, as if slightly drugged, the bullets moved faster than she could see, but she could tell from how the zombie angled the gun where they would strike. All she had to do was keep out from in front of the hole in the barrel. 'So, in other words, do what every other person faced with a gun has ever wanted to do.' Easy.

  Dodging behind a sapling Stewart zigged back and closed with the older woman zombie, knocking the rifle from her hands hard enough to bend the barrel. She followed through with her knife hand jabbing the blade towards the other woman's chin. The zombie seemed to catch herself, as if awakening from a dream. She swept her arm upward and Stewart's jab hooked the side of its head instead, leaving a wide gash from just below the right ear to the top of its skull. With her other hand the zombie swung the rifle as a club, something Stewart blocked with the machete.

  Stewart sidestepped; the zombie turned and faced her, both women thrust out with their limbs. A jab with a knife to the zombie's torso did little, a fist to Stewart's shoulder slide off of her like water from a duck. Finally after a series of fisticuffs that accomplished little Stewart pivoted and swept the Zombie's feet out from under her. By this time the rest of the super zombies had closed and were standing, gawking in a loose semi-circle around the two, their guns slack and not aimed at anything in particular.

  When the lead zombie went down the others reacted slowly, trying to pull their guns up to take a shot. Stewart didn't give them a chance and lunged into the man on the left leading with an overhand swing of her machete. The zombie, a hefty, six-footer, was barely able to get his arms up in time, blocking the blow using the rifle held in his hands. Stewart's heavy blade cut through the rifle and split the zombies head like Moses parting the Red Sea.

  With her knife hand Stewart thrust into the other woman, hitting her again in the shoulder and knocking her backwards down the hill into the trees.

  Stewart heard the gunshots before she felt the pain, her knife arm convulsed and she lost the blade as the zombie fell backwards. More angry than hurt, Stewart threw herself sideways and lashed out blindly with the machete that had served her well so far. The next zombie in line, lost an arm just below the shoulder. He reeled back and fell to the ground, leaving his companion, the only super zombie still on its feet with an open shot.

  At point blank he couldn't miss, the rifle was lined up, sighted on her and she saw him tightening his finger on the trigger. The machete came up as he fired three times, then the hammer clicked on an empty chamber and Stewart stepped forward and took his head from his shoulders.

  "No fucking way. No fucking way." The super zombie on the ground said, backpedaling after jumping to her feet.

  Stewart gave her an angry look and stepped towards her, pausing only long enough to swipe off the top of the one arm man's head as he cradled his severed limb to his chest.

  "What's a matter? You don't like it when we fight back?"

  "What are you?" the woman whispered, still backing off.

  "I'm human. What are you?"

  "You're no human. You...you deflected the bullets with the machete, no human could do that! What are you?"

  "What I am is not in the mood for talking so fight or run already." Stewart answered.

  The zombie turned and fled.

  "Goddamn it." Stewart grumbled, taking aim with the machete, when she had a clear throw she tossed the blade at it. The weapon spun as it flew through the air and struck the super zombie in the head with the handle, knocking her to the ground where she lay silently.

  Stewart stalked towards her and heard more zombies closing in around her.

  "You ain't got no knife this time bitch. Dodge this!" The other woman zombie, still with the knife hilt still in her shoulder was aiming at her from ten yards downhill. A shot rang out, it was the loudest rifle retort Stewart ever heard.

  Chapter 29 -- Katie

  The house was empty. Katie had the feeling that someone had been here recently, the whole place had a strange, 'lived in feel'. She walked through the ground floor without checking upstairs and what she found on the back porch supported her logic; a large grill and twelve canisters of propane. There was also a metal barrel in the overgrown back yard that smelled of smoke. Someone had been living here and burning their trash in the barrel out back.

  This was not a coastal house, that didn't seem to be a trend for this area. I t looked like most of the coast line was protected by a green belt which probably cut down on the damage from tropical storms. Still, the place was nice and even if you couldn't see the ocean from the bay window overlooking the back year, there was a path leading to the beach a quarter of a mile away. Katie had pulled the jeep up into the tree line, tucking the keys inside the visor in case she needed to make a quick getaway. Surveying the back yard she noted that the low fence didn't abut the neighbor's yard. Between each of the houses was untamed woods, or so it seemed at first glance. Katie had walked to the houses on path that led between the houses and ended on a lone cul-de-sac, she chose this house on the left for no better reason than she liked the red tile roof.

  The place looked expensive, the driveway was three cars wide and the garage was placed towards the street side with a spacious sidewalk leading to the front door. The door had been locked, but it had taken Katie less than ten seconds to force her way in. She was carrying the shotgun and had the .30-06 slung over her shoulder. She had enough ammo in her vest pockets to give her time to assess the situation, if she needed more, she could run back to the jeep. Her other rifle was still stashed in the gym bag, which she had left inside the woods a short distance from the jeep wedged under a fallen palm tree.

  "You are not supposed to be here." The voice was sultry, accented in a way Katie had only heard before in movies and came from the patio door. If she had to guess she would place the accent as Cuban, but Katie was no expert.

  Twirling she raised her gun to the threat and barely stopped herself from blasting the middle aged Hispanic woman in the doorway.

  "Who are you?" asked Katie.

  "Who are you?" the woman countered.

  "I'm the woman with the gun, so you answer me first."

  "You won't shoot me. He said you wouldn't."

  "What? He who?"

  "The doctor, he said I was safe, as long as I take care of his house. You need to leave."

  "Lady, I have no idea what you are talking about. Tell me who you are. Now." Katie brought the shotgun up to her shoulder and aimed it at the woman.

  The woman eyed the gun warily, then slumped and said, "Beatriz. Beatriz Bustillo."

  "Now that wasn't so bad was it? Turn around, into the house." Katie motioned for the woman to go back inside. Katie followed Beatriz in and locked the door behind her.

  "So, Beatriz...tell me what you are doing here." Katie ordered.

  "I...I work for the doctor. I don't do much anymore. He never comes home, he just stays at the clinic."

  "The doctor? What doctor?"

  "Doctor Sentry. At the clinic. He is...he is a good man. I know it."

  When the name poured off of Beatriz'
s lips Katie felt the ground fall out from beneath her. She knew that name, but she couldn't, for the life of her, know how she knew it. She hated him. A man she never met before and she had to kill him.

  "Makes you wonder why, doesn't it?" came Randy's voice as he sauntered into the kitchen area.

  "You again." Katie snorted.

  "What?" asked Beatriz.

  "Nothing." Katie said.

  "Nothing? I suppose you are right." Randy commented, "I think we are at a crossroad here, which way will we go?"

  "What do you mean?" asked Katie.

  "What?" asked Beatriz, slowly backing towards the living room.

  "Not you! I'm not talking to you! And stay where you fucking are if you want to live! As for you, do we really need to do this now? And what do you mean about the crossroad?"

  Beatriz bolted for the living room, Katie fired and the shotgun pellets caught the woman in the side of her lower back.

  "Oh, you're in for it now!" said Randy.

  Katie ignored him and ran after the woman, who had kept running despite the wound. 'Did I miss? It was close and she twisted around that wall pretty fast.'

  Turning the corner with the gun held at waist level, Katie was surprised to see the woman was already at the top of the stairs. The bottom of the woman's shirt was soaked red and a dark stain had spread from there onto her gray track pants.

  "Freeze!" Katie yelled. Beatriz, stumbled forward to the ground and continued crawling.

  The angle was bad but Katie took a shot anyway as she rushed up the stairs two at a time.

  Beatriz had crawled into a bedroom and was fumbling at a night stand when Katie came through the doorway.

  "Damn it! Stop!" Katie yelled.

  Beatriz pulled her hand back, in it was clutched a revolver with a long barrel, as she lifted it out and tried to aim it back over her shoulder at Katie the shotgun went off. The revolver spun end over end and struck the wall, leaving a dent before rebounding onto the bed. Beatriz's hand had ceased to exist, leaving only bloody stump with the bones of her hand sticking up from the end of her wrist. The woman screamed and clutched the bloody mess to her body.

  Katie stood over her with the shotgun, waiting for the screaming to subside. It didn't. Finally Katie reached down and grabbed Beatriz by the ankle and pulled her to the open area at the foot of the bed. With a twist she flipped the woman onto her back.

  "What the hell were you thinking? I had you at gun point!" Katie said.

  "You're not supposed to be here. I'm going to get the injection. I'm going to live forever! He promised!" Beatriz whimpered.

  "You're going to bleed out in about five minutes and I don't think I can stop it." Katie said.

  "And why would you want to? Our business isn't about putting people back together, it's about taking them apart." Randy said from the doorway. Katie cast a quick glance his way and turned back to the woman dying on the floor.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "He said it was safe here. No one would come. Maybe tomorrow he would take me to the clinic. He has a new medicine to test and he wants to try it on me. There is no danger."

  "Lady, I have no idea what you are yammering about."

  "I..." Beatriz began, then stopped. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she shuddered violently.

  "She's leaving." Randy said.

  "Maybe she'll haunt me like you?"

  He shook his head, "I hope not, I don't think there is enough room in your head for more than the two of us."

  "Fuck."

  It didn't take long for Beatriz to die. Katie looked around the house and found a generator wired into the building in the garage. It required her to push a button and when she did the power came on inside the house. Once she shut the door to the garage she could hardly hear the noise. Katie looked down at her clothing and was surprised to see it was covered in blood.

  "Damn it. This is why I was a sniper; there was less laundry to do after killing someone."

  "Very politically correct Katie." Randy said with disapproval, "How'd you get so much blood on you?"

  "Splatter, I guess. I hope this dump has a washing machine."

  "That's my girl, kill someone in their own house and do your laundry while their body cools."

  "It's not like I have to worry about the cops busting me."

  "I suppose not. Why are you here, Katie?"

  Katie's brow furrowed in thought. "I'm going to kill this Sentry guy. He sounds like a dick. I suppose waiting for him in his own home is a pretty good ambush technique."

  Randy laughed, "Sure, but why here and why him? You don't even know the guy."

  "Shower first, I'm getting this blood off of me."

  "The water will be cold, the generator just came on. The water heater needs a couple hours to do its job."

  "I am not sitting around with all this blood on me for a couple of hours. A cold shower will get it off as good as a hot one." Katie marched upstairs past the now closed door of the room Beatriz lay in and continued on to the master suit.

  "Nice." Katie said, pushing inside. The room had cream colored walls with dark, mahogany trim. The floor looked like it was made of compressed bamboo and there was a large throw rug on top of it, upon which sat a king sized bed. The bed looked like it hadn't been slept on in weeks. There were two large windows, one overlooking the street below and the other looking out the back yard. Along the far wall were two doors and a doorway. The doorway led to a bathroom that was the size of a bedroom in a normal house. It was tiled with a shower, a Jacuzzi tub, and the usual sanitary facilities. Katie stripped off her clothing and dumped it in the tub before stepping into the shower.

  Randy didn't disappear; he followed her to the shower stall where he watched as Katie rinsed the blood off of her body.

  "Care to join me?" Katie teased, giving a roll of her hips.

  He shook his head, "I never liked cold showers."

  "You're dead, you won't feel it."

  "It wouldn't be the same."

  "You swam with me." Katie protested.

  "Yeah, the ocean is large and filled with the souls of the dead. The shower is not."

  "I'm done anyway." Katie said, rinsing the last of the shampoo out of her hair. She stepped to the side of the shower and grabbed a teak colored towel. Katie dried herself off, wrapped her hair into one towel and her body into another. She turned the water on in the tub and rinsed her clothing well, then wrung it out and rolled it up into a third towel she took from the linen closet.

  "Do you just bet the laundry room is downstairs?"

  "A good bet. There won't be a basement this close to the ocean; the water table is too high."

  Katie found the wash room tucked away at the back corner of the house and tossed her wet clothing into the dryer.

  "Forty minutes and I will be good to go."

  "You didn't even wash it, you just rinsed it."

  "So sue me. I got the blood out and I am not sure when Sentry is coming home."

  "I'm glad you brought that up Katie. What are we doing here again?"

  "I just...feel I need to be here."

  "Bullshit."

  "Well, what else am I going to do?"

  "Find an island somewhere, boat out there and ride this thing out?" suggested Randy.

  "How about I kill this bastard first and then do that?"

  "You are good. You can't tell me why you are here and refuse to think about it."

  "A woman's prerogative."

  "Bullshit."

  "I better check my guns. Make sure everything is ready for the good doctor when he arrives home."

  "This is bullshit."

  "Go away Randy. I'll talk to you after."

  Randy faded away like the fog he was, leaving Katie struggling not to think about what he had said.

  Chapter 30 -- Max

  The zombie who was aiming her rifle at Stewart collapsed in a spray of bone fragments and dark, sticky blood. Her gun slipped from nerveless fingers as Stewart's shoulders sa
gged in relief.

  "About fucking time, Max!" Stewart said, only to turn and see Ruben standing with his gun still aimed in the zombie's general direction. "Ruben?"

  The old man nodded. "Your boyfriend and Bill are having a little pow-wow back at the car park."

  "So you can see zombies too?"

  "No. I just followed the swear words. They usually lead to you. I'm glad I could help out."

  "Well, thank you." Stewart said, a little gruffly.

  Ruben eyed the thick vegetation around them uneasily, "We should get out of here, I don't like being somewhere they can jump us so easily."

  "Uphill gets us back to the state patrol building." said Stewart pointing up the slope.

  "Yeah, I didn't get lost walking thirty yards into the woods to save you, believe it or not."

  "I believe it. Sorry, I was just trying to be helpful."

  "Forget about it."

  The two climbed the hill and came upon Max and Bill arguing to their left as they emerged onto the thin strip of grass between the building and the edge of the woods.

  "Now what?" asked Stewart.

  "Max has something on his mind. It sounds like that sort of argument."

  Stepping over to the other two Stewart could tell Ruben was right. Both men stopped talking as they were approached.

  "What? Is there trouble with the bro-mance?" Stewart asked.

  Max smiled, but Bill scowled and said, "No, just a disagreement." Doing a double take, Bill went on, "Ruben. I didn't even see you leave."

  "Well, you two were arguing and I thought someone should cover Stewart's back. What were you two bickering about?"

  Max looked at Bill and back to Ruben. "Nothing much. We were talking about the mission and trying to figure out what to do."

  "Or if we should do it. I'm sorry Ruben, I was all set to keep going without Max, but now I wonder at the sense of it all, especially with Javier down. It's just the four of us against a bunch of the toughest zombies. Not just tough zombies, but the ones who started this mess? Maybe we should pack it in." said Bill.