Rise of the Undead (Book 4): Apocalypse Z

by Higgins, Baileigh

  Every time they completed a circle, they moved further out and repeated the procedure. It was time-consuming and frustrating but also efficient. There was little chance that they’d miss any signs of King or his men. By late afternoon, however, Saul was starting to doubt his tactics.

  He squatted next to a small cooking fire with Dylan, sipping on a hot cup of coffee. He’d called for a brief break to give everyone the chance to unwind. Rattling around the city in the cold, picking off stray zombies wasn’t exactly fun. It also allowed him to talk to Dylan in private.

  “This is a waste of time. We haven’t even swept Frederick, let alone the gazillion other cities they could be in. Plus, these Humvees are burning through our fuel reserves,” Saul said in a low voice.

  “Yup, those things are gas guzzlers, all right, but they’re also the safest option should we run into trouble,” Dylan replied. “Besides, there’s a gas station not far from here. We can fill up there.”

  “What about the search? We’re getting nowhere,” Saul said.

  “It’s too early to give up, Saul. If King and his men left behind any sign of their passing, we’ll find it. At the very least, it will give us the direction they fled in. That will narrow the search considerably.”

  Saul sighed. “I guess you’re right. It’s just so hard. Every second that passes without finding her is like a piece of glass being ground into my heart.”

  Dylan nodded, her smile sympathetic. “I understand. I’m so worried about Amy that I want to die. I keep thinking what if. What if they hurt her. What if they…”

  “Don’t say it,” Saul interrupted, his voice rough. “I keep thinking the same things, and it will drive us mad.”

  Dylan bared her teeth in a grimace. “I can tell you one thing. If I get my hands on King, he’ll be sorry he was ever born.”

  “That’s if I don’t get to him first,” Saul replied, his smile equally as unpleasant as hers. “But time is wasting. We’d better get moving.”

  Saul pushed himself upright and tossed the dregs of his cup on the ground. “Time to move out, guys. Mount up.”

  “Sir!” a voice called out. “What’s that?”

  Saul looked around and spotted a man called Ginger, so-called because of his carrot-colored hair. “What’s what?”

  “That, Sir,” Ginger replied, pointing at the sky.

  Saul looked in the direction he indicated and frowned. “What in hell’s name is going on over there?”

  A thick column of black smoke rose against the sky, mushrooming outward as it hit the air currents. The sheer volume indicated a fire of massive proportions, which could mean one of several things: Sabotage, survivors, an accident, a gas leak, anything.

  “Do you think we should investigate,” Dylan asked, sidling up next to him.

  “I do. Whatever it is, we should at least make certain it’s not a threat to us,” Saul said.

  “It could be a trap,” Dylan argued.

  “That’s possible,” Saul conceded.

  “We’re pretty well-equipped, though. If it is a trap, it would have to be a good one,” Dylan added.

  “We’ll check it out from a distance,” Saul decided. “If it looks suspicious, we’ll call for back-up.”

  Dylan nodded. “Good ide—”

  “Sir, I just got a report from the base about possible survivors trapped inside a burning building,” a woman called.

  Saul looked around. It was Rita, one of the best sharp-shooters he’d ever seen. She was also in charge of communications. “You spoke to base, Rita?”

  “Yes, they raised me and said a raiding party spotted the fire. They investigated and think there are people trapped inside the burning building. They’re calling for back-up.”

  Saul nodded. “Tell them we’re on our way.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Rita called, hurrying back to her post next to the radio.

  “You heard the lady, people. Let’s move,” Saul cried, rallying the troops. Everybody scrambled to obey, and within minutes, the convoy was rumbling toward the origin of the fire.

  Saul maneuvered his Humvee through the streets as fast as he dared. Even so, it took a good forty-five minutes before they reached their destination. It was right on the edge of town furthest from the base. As they grew closer to the blaze, the air grew hazy with falling ash, and he wondered what in the world could burn like that.

  His question was answered when they roared into an empty square in front of what used to be the local library. The building was a furnace. Heat pulsed outward in waves, and orange flames covered every inch. The smell of ash and smoke filled his nostrils, and he was thankful he always wore a bandanna. He pulled it up over his nose until he could breathe a little easier.

  Dylan coughed, one hand held over her mouth. “Where is the raiding party ?”

  “Good question,” Saul answered. “There’s no one here.”

  “And there can’t possibly be any survivors in that,” Dylan said, waving at the fire. “Not a chance.”

  Saul shook his head. “Call Rita. I want to speak to her. Meantime, I’m taking a quick look around.”

  Dylan nodded. “Be careful. It could still be a trap.”

  Saul jumped down from the Humvee and walked across the square. The extreme heat prevented him from getting to close to the fire, but he was able to do a general recon. In a side-ally sat an open trashcan, and something prompted him to look inside. Empty jerry cans lay in the bottom. He picked one up and sniffed. Gasoline.

  With a muttered curse, he spun around and marched back to the convoy. Dylan and Rita awaited him, each eyeing the empty jerry can in his hand.

  “Where did you find that?” Dylan asked.

  “In a trashcan along with several others,” Saul replied.

  “So, you’re saying the fire was deliberate?” Dylan said.

  “Exactly, and there are no survivors either. Never was.”

  “But the report from the base said—” Rita began.

  “Who did you speak to?” Saul interrupted.

  “A man called Grissom,” Rita replied.

  “Son of a —” Saul cried. “He’s part of King’s men. This was all a set-up.”

  “How do you know that?” Dylan asked.

  “Because Grissom was one of the guards on duty the night of the kidnapping. Nick and I questioned him, but he played dumb,” Saul said.

  “But why do all this?” Dylan asked, waving a hand at the fire.

  “It’s a diversion. They wanted us off base, and they succeeded,” Saul said, fiery rage bubbling in his veins.

  “In that case, we’d better get back,” Dylan said.

  “Yes, but we’re on the far side of town, and darkness is falling,” Saul said.

  “It doesn’t matter. We have to go back even if it takes all night,” Dylan said, her face determined.

  “Agreed. Let’s go,” Saul said. “Rita, try to get hold of Sergeant Dean. Warn him about Grissom. Tell him something is up.”

  “I’ll try, Sir, but we’re too far out at the moment. I’ll have to wait until we get closer. My radio signal isn’t powerful enough.”

  “Keep trying,” Saul said. He jumped into the Humvee, joined seconds later by Dylan, and they were off. “I just hope we’re in time.”

  “Me too, Saul. Me too,” Dylan said.

  Chapter 24 - Amy

  Amy leaned over the bed and pulled the covers up to Jenny’s chin. “There you go. Snug as a bug in a rug.”

  Jenny smiled. “My mom used to say that too.”

  “I’m sure your mom was a wonderful lady,” Amy said with a gentle smile.

  “She was the best mom in the whole world,” Jenny said with the certainty that only the innocent possessed.

  “Well, you just keep warm. I’ll be right back,” Amy said.

  “Where are you going?” Jenny asked, her smile falling away. “I don’t want you to leave. What if the bad men come?”

  “Mm, let me think,” Amy said. “I tell you what. I’ll leave my gu
n here on the edge of the bed. If the bad men come, you can shoot them.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve got this,” Amy said, pointing at the ax in her belt. “Besides, I won’t be long. I just want to get some food from the vending machine.”

  Jenny’s face lit up. “Food? What food?”

  “There is lots of stuff. Cookies, chips, chocolates, peanuts, you name it,” Amy said with a teasing smile. “Do you want some?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Well then, I’ll be right back.”

  Amy opened the door a crack and looked outside. The storm was worse than before. A vicious wind whistled around the corners and whipped the snow into a frenzy. While they had food and water in the room, she was afraid the storm would strand them at the motel. If that happened, they’d need the extra stuff in the vending machine.

  With one hand on the head of her ax, she ducked outside and braved the cold. The icy wind cut to the bone, and she raised her free hand to shield her face. Within seconds, her teeth began to chatter, and shivers wracked her body. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

  But the opening to the reception lay right ahead, and she pushed onward. She spotted the open door and aimed for it. As she was about to duck inside, a hand caught her by the upper arm. Before she could utter a sound, she was whirled away until her back slammed into the wall.

  Her skull thudded against the rough bricks, and the breath left her lungs in an audible rush. Stars tinged red with agony danced in front of her eyes. When her gaze finally focused on the face that loomed mere inches above hers, ice water ran through her veins. Red!

  “Thought you could get away from me, huh?” he growled. The scent of cheap tobacco and spearmint washed across her nostrils. “Thought you could make a fool of me, huh?”

  “No, I—”

  Her words were cut off as his other hand clamped shut around her throat. Fingers as thick as sausages began to squeeze. Her airways closed, and life-giving oxygen ceased to flow to her brain. Pain radiated throughout her chest as her lungs convulsed. Every cell screamed for release while Red gloated at her suffering.

  “I want you to feel everything, little girl. Every second it takes for your body to die from lack of air. I want to see the light leave your eyes.”

  Amy grabbed his fist with both hands, clawing at his flesh with her nails. She cut him to the bone, and blood leaked from the deep cuts, but he never flinched. His hold grew tighter and tighter until she thought her head would explode. Her eyes bulged from their sockets. Frantic, she hit him with her fists, but her blows were feeble. She lacked the strength to harm him. The ax!

  With her right hand, she felt for the weapon at her belt. With her last strength, she pulled it free, only to have him knock it away with a negligent laugh. “That’s it. Fight. I want you to fight, to hope, because, after that, you’ll realize you’ve lost. You’ll know you’re going to die. You’ll know, I’ve won.”

  Amy stared at him, her struggles growing weaker and weaker. Her toes scrabbled at the tiles beneath her boots. He was right. She was losing hope. This was what it felt like to die. This was how it would all end for her. It was all for nothing, wasn’t it?

  “Yes, that’s it. That’s the look. Utter despair giving way to emptiness,” Red whispered.

  Amy closed her eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She could deny him that, at least. If nothing else.

  Suddenly, Red slammed up against her, and a loud bang reverberated through her ears. His hands let go, and he toppled backward with a wordless cry. Blood pooled around his body, crimson in the fallen snow.

  Amy collapsed to her knees, hacking for air. She struggled to suck in enough oxygen to feed her starving cells. Each heave was agony. Every breath sent a pulse of raw pain shivering through her nerves. Her flesh felt as if it had been crushed, and her eyes refused to focus.

  Small hands grabbed the sides of her face, and Jenny’s dark brown eyes peered at her. “Amy, are you okay? Amy, I shot the bad man. I killed him, I think.”

  Amy nodded, and her throat spasmed as she tried to form the words. “Yes. Bad man. Very bad man.”

  “Are you hurt? You look hurt,” Jenny cried, on the verge of tears.

  Amy shook her head. “I’m…okay. You…saved…me.”

  As her cells received the oxygen they craved, her mind cleared, and Amy was able to think. Staying at the motel was impossible. Infected would be drawn by the shot. They might even be on their way already. Who knew how many lurked inside the motel and its rooms?

  She stumbled to her feet and leaned over Red’s body. Even in death, his face held terror for her, but she ignored it. A quick search of his pockets gave her what she needed—the keys to his truck.

  She straightened up and grabbed Jenny’s hand. With the other, she picked up the shotgun where the girl had dropped it. “Come on, Jenny. Let’s go home.”

  ***

  An hour later, Amy stopped in front of the gates to Fort Detrick. Jenny was fast asleep beside her, tucked inside her father’s jacket with her backpack as a pillow. Rufus rested on her chest, and her breath ruffled his scruffy fur.

  Amy wound down her window as a soldier approached. He shone a light into her face, and asked. “How can I help you, Miss?”

  “I’d like to see Sergeant Dean. My name is Amy Donahue, and I was kidnapped along with Dr. Tara Lee a few nights ago,” Amy rasped through her bruised throat.

  The soldier sucked in a deep breath and shone the light back into her face. “Amy Donahue?”

  “That’s me.”

  “You escaped?”

  “I did.”

  “What about Dr. Lee?”

  “She is still being held captive.”

  “I see. That’s too bad.”

  Amy raised one hand to ward off the bright light. “Please, can you let me in? I’m injured, and I have a little girl with me.”

  “Of course, Miss. In fact, I’ll escort you to the infirmary myself,” the soldier said.

  “What about Sergeant Dean?” Amy asked.

  “I’ll let him know you’re here, Miss. Never fear. You can count on me,” the soldier replied with a broad smile. “Also, you might not know this, but your brother survived the attack. He’s still alive.”

  Shock reverberated through every cell of Amy’s being, followed by a flood of happiness. “Alex is alive?”

  “Indeed, he is. You’ll get to see him at the infirmary. It will be one big happy reunion,” the soldier said, opening her door. “Let me drive you there. That way, you can relax. This must all come as a huge shock to you.”

  Amy nodded as she scooted over. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Miss.”

  “Call me Amy, please.”

  The soldier shot her a smile as he drove through the gates. “Sure thing, Miss Amy.”

  “And you are?”

  “Grissom. You can call me Grissom.”

  Do you want more?

  So we’ve reached the end of Apocalypse Z - Book 4, and I really hope you enjoyed reading the book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please consider leaving a review as that makes it so much easier for an author like me to reach more readers like yourself and to keep writing. You can review the book here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081YY6SCN

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