Zombie Attack! Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Devan Sagliani

  “Have we met before?” Felicity's voice went up just slightly, a clear indication to me that she was doing her best to be polite in a trying situation. To the untrained ear it just sounded like there was more sweetness in her delivery, but to a man who'd come to know her as well as I had it sounded like forced civility. ‘More than anything I wish I could slip past just once without someone making a big deal out of nothing,’ is what it told me. Needless to say Bad Bart missed the meaning entirely, by a long shot. He took her kind response as an eager invitation to start babbling.

  “Well yes, of course. I know I'm not as famous as you are, and it was a long time ago, no doubt about that, but surely you wouldn't forget the man who died in your arms. I mean I whispered my dying words to you, telling you where to find your lost dog.”

  Felicity stared at him with no recognition as he slowly ran out of steam, a worried look creeping over his surly face. He seemed to shrink back some as the seconds dragged on with all of us waiting for some kind of response from her. At last she spoke, her eyes coming to life.

  “You sacrificed yourself for Sparky!”

  The pinched look on Bad Bart's face dissipated like morning fog hit by a direct blast of unfiltered sunlight. It was replaced at once with a much more modest appearing sense of relief.

  “That's right, little missy.”

  “Perry? Is that really you? Oh my God!”

  “No one calls me that anymore. Around here we use our stage names to stay in character. Call me Bart.”

  “It's been so long,” she squealed, excited to have a memorable part of her former life drift back to her again. “Perry, I mean Bart, used to watch over me like my own personal bodyguard when I was on set. He kept the creepy old wardrobe guy away from me, and scared off a fair number of stalker fans during the three months we were on location. I was still dealing with fallout from my parents’ divorce, and taking heat in the tabloids every week. If it wasn't for Perry, sorry Bart, I don't think I would have made it through that show. He was always cracking jokes, performing for me, trying to make me laugh and lift my spirits. We were inseparable that last month, right up until the martini shot.”

  “Thick as thieves you might say,” Bart said with a knowing wink.

  “Hey,” Felicity cried out in protest. “It was your idea to boost the fake guns from the props department and play war games during that second unit pickup shot day.”

  “I didn't hear you complaining when you beat me!”

  “Don't get him started,” Hudson said wryly. “It's all he ever talks about. His big feature film debut, working with Felicity Jane.”

  “You mean you didn't tell her right away that I was here?” Bart looked dumbfounded. He grinned from ear to ear like a proud kid saying I told you so to a group of disbelieving friends.

  “Never crossed my mind,” Hudson guffawed. “It's not like I knew who she was. I've only ever heard you talk about Felicity Jane, the movie star. It's not like you carry a picture in your wallet.”

  Thank God for that, I thought. I shot a look at Felicity who had let go of my hand. She bounded over and gave him a hug. His head hung over her shoulder and I was surprised by the look on his face, like an older brother seeing his little sister after a long time away.

  He wasn't interested in trying to steal her away, I thought. He's just happy to see an old friend, a kindred spirit, someone who made it and got to live the dream they both shared as actors.

  Felicity pulled back and turned to me.

  “As I was saying,” she said, adding extra emphasis to each word, “this is my husband, Xander.”

  Bad Bart listened this time, acknowledging me with a friendly nod of the head and sticking out his big hand. I stuck mine back out toward his and he took it. The size and roughness of his skin reminded me of a baseball glove for some reason, while his general demeanor was now more like an overexcited Dalmatian.

  “Bad Bart, leader of the Bad Apple Gang,” he said amicably. “It's a pleasure to meet you, man. Sorry about before. I think I was just in shock. I still am. I haven't seen her since the wrap party.”

  “What was the name of the movie?”

  “Sparky. That was it. Nothing else. Just Sparky.”

  “It was an awful movie,” Felicity laughed. “It didn't last two weeks in theaters.”

  “What? It wasn't that bad.” Bad Bart protested.

  “It was that bad, probably the worst performance of my career.”

  “Your worst was my best! Thanks a lot! That's the closest I ever came to making it in Hollywood. After that it was just random theater gigs and kid's parties, until I got an invite to Gold Strike City.”

  “All right now,” Hudson said, still shaking his head. “There'll be more time for catching up soon enough. First let's get those shackles off you. This here is Frank, our real life blacksmith, among other things.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he muttered gruffly, still working a red-hot horseshoe with a hammer on an iron block.

  “Our new arrivals have had a rough couple of days,” Hudson explained. “Somewhere along the way they got these fancy jewelry pieces they're now looking to unload. Think you can spring 'em loose?”

  Frank grunted, depositing the hot metal into a vat of water that hissed as steam rose from its rippling surface. He strode from around his block of metal and bent down, examining the restraints and touching the metal. I looked down at him as he inspected mine. He glanced up and caught my stare, then grunted and walked back to his tool bench. A moment later he came back with bright red industrial-strength bolt cutters, like something you might pick up at the Home Depot. From the moment we'd first stepped foot in town they'd resembled inhabitants of a small settlement from the Old West, right down to the way they dressed and how they spoke. The bolt cutters were the first glimpse I had that they knew the modern world existed, if only in shambles of its former glory.

  Frank quickly cut Sonya, Felicity, and me clean of the metal bindings weighing us down. I let out a small sigh of relief. I hadn't realized how encumbered I'd felt until the chains were no longer clamped on me against my will.

  I walked around, stretching my legs and taking deep breaths. In the distance, I saw a beautiful wild stallion running free in its own stockade. The horse cried out as I approached, and began to jump and kick. The huge beast looked restless, like he yearned to be free again, and wouldn't settle down completely until he had figured out how to break out of the artificial enclosure in which he had been placed.

  I know just how you feel, I thought.

  “What's this?” I asked, turning back to them. Hudson and Bart opened their mouths to answer at the same time, but it was Frank who beat them to it and did the honors.

  “A rare and bewitching creature,” he sang out, “with a truly unbreakable spirit.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “That horse’s a beauty,” Hudson said. “Ain't he?”

  “For an untamed hell child of a she-devil,” Bad Bart said, spitting into the dust at his feet in contempt. “I damn near broke my neck being thrown by him.”

  Felicity walked over and patted Bart on the arm, and he let out a little laugh.

  “That black beast will not submit to someone who is his lesser,” Frank smiled. “That is all there is to it. Nothing more and nothing less.”

  “He’ll calm down in his own time,” Hudson assured him. “Wait and see. Then we'll be able to ride him.”

  “Ain't nobody ever going to be able to ride that one,” Bad Bart countered. “He’s unbreakable.”

  “What's the horse’s name?” Felicity asked.

  “We call her Black Beauty,” the Marshal replied.

  “Like the kids book?”

  “Nothing gets past you, li’l darling,” Bad Bart chuckled. “Still sharp as a whip.”

  “I see the resemblance,” Felicity responded, ignoring Bart. “How long has this horse been in here on his own?”

  “Well let's see,” Hudson answered, counting on his fingers as he bit his lip. �
�I'd say it's been almost two months now. We found him out on the plains and wrangled him. Took three men to bring that horse in, and I'm fairly certain that was just because he wasn't feeling good at the time. He’s strong as they come now, and ready to bust out or die trying. We haven't found anyone willing to give him a try since he threw Bart here. It's a shame really. The creature’s a beautiful animal. I'd love to take him out for a ride and see how fast he can run.”

  Sonya had a crazy look in her eyes. She was frantically unwinding the braids in her hair as she stumbled forward, eyes locked on the animal. She climbed over the fence, and began walking slowly up to the magnificent wonder.

  “What in the hell does she think she's doing?”

  “I don't know,” I answered, as if the question had been posed specifically to me. For some reason I felt responsible for her, like I had to account for anything she did, even though I hadn’t known her at all just the day before. I could feel Felicity's stare burning into my back, but I just kept my eyes locked on the show unfolding in front of me.

  She not only saved your life, I thought, but she saved your katana as well. If it weren’t for her you'd be in hot water right now. So why do I feel so guilty? And how can I ever trust her?

  Sonya slowly approached Black Beauty with one hand out. The horse began to kick and spit, but Sonya didn't back off. Instead she inched forward, never taking her eyes off the beast.

  “She'll be killed,” Bad Bart roared. “Get her out of there!”

  “Looks like it's in the hands of fate now,” Hudson said, placing his hands on his hips. “Let's see how she does.”

  Black Beauty snorted forcefully and took several clomping steps forward, aggressively challenging Sonya, but the woman warrior with the long blonde tresses, like dripping honey capturing melted sunshine, didn't even flinch. She laid her palm flat on the horse’s muzzle and left it there, closing her eyes and bowing her head as if she were praying. I held my breath, certain that the calm would break and Sonya would be trampled into little bloody pieces. Instead the dark beast began to rub against the hand, as if begging to be nuzzled.

  “I don't believe it,” Bad Bart whispered.

  Sonya calmly walked around to Black Beauty’s side, stroking and petting the gorgeous animal as she went, then swung up onto his back, as if they'd done this dance a thousand times. Sonya laced her fingers into the horse’s mane, as I'd seen her do before when she rode bareback during our rescue. She leaned forward into riding position and whispered into the horse's ear. Black Beauty reared slightly as he shot forward, but only out of instinct. In a flash the animal galloped across the distance to the edge of the fencing, then broke right and came back around in a gentle trot, stopping at the fence line closest to us.

  “Well I'll be,” Hudson said, eyes wide with amazement. “Wonders never cease.”

  “Black Beauty really likes you,” Bad Bart laughed, raising his hand to touch the horse’s muzzle. The magnificent animal gave a snort and pulled just out of his reach.

  “I'd like to think we understand one another,” Sonya said, as if she were overly simplifying something so that a child could understand it. Bart looked taken aback by her temerity, but quickly recovered.

  “Must be a girl thing,” he shrugged. “Apparently, he's just too sensitive for a male rider.”

  “I believe you're right,” Hudson agreed. “Maybe he just needed a gentler touch is all.”

  Sonya looked offended by the suggestion that she was somehow less tough than the previous cowboys who'd tried to break Black Beauty. Her emerald eyes burned with electricity as her features contorted in anger, making her look like a possessed witch. She let out a howl and took off once more, galloping off with renewed enthusiasm and picking up speed. She blazed from one fence post to the next, turning at the last second so she wouldn't lose speed. Bad Bart let out a long whistle as Sonya raced past them on the giant horse. They moved like one, animal and woman, both with a feral look in their eyes that said no man shall ever conquer me.

  “Well I'll be damned,” Felicity breathed in disbelief.

  I turned and looked at Felicity, but she no longer looked upset. She looked just as shocked and amazed as the rest of us.

  After making several passes and riding all the way around the fences at least a dozen times, Sonya brought the stallion back to us and dismounted. She whispered something in Black Beauty's ear again, then patted him on the side and stepped through the fence like nothing happened.

  “What did you tell that horse?” Bad Bart asked, looking astonished.

  “I told him I'd be back for him,” Sonya smiled, a look of pure happiness in her eyes. “Soon.”

  “You all right, son?”

  Hudson was staring at me with a concerned look on his face. I felt myself wobble a little on my feet as I turned to see everyone else gape at me as well.

  “Now that you mention it, I am a little dizzy,” I admitted, feeling the sudden urge to sit down and not get up again.

  “He hasn't slept in two days,” Felicity offered. “And he told me he'd been hit hard in the head several times during that period.”

  “He can't go to sleep now,” Bart warned us. “He might have a concussion.”

  “Don't you think we'd know by now if he had a concussion? We've been with him long enough to tell.”

  “I'm fine,” I lied. “I'm just a little worn out. It's nothing a nap and something to eat won't fix.”

  “Well then, let's get you to your room,” Hudson smiled, looking relieved. “You can rest up before the big fiesta tonight. I'll have some of the ladies bring you food and water as well. You'll feel better in no time at all.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling embarrassed by all the unwanted attention.

  Bad Bart bid farewell to Felicity, and made her promise to come to the dance later. I thanked Frank once more while Sonya just waited impatiently, unaware that she was tapping her foot on the ground the whole time.

  When we finally set off, Hudson led us straight through the rest of town without delay, winding along the path to the left and back toward the mountain where the wooden houses sat nestled into the rock, facing outward. It was like a small street in suburbia with each porch front decorated by the current inhabitants to reflect their own personal style. When we reached the end of the street, I saw the last few houses didn't have any kind of decorations at all. They looked vacant.

  “The last two on the left are yours,” Hudson said. “By now the welcoming committee has already laid out some provisions for you.”

  “Who?” I looked at him, confused. I hadn't seen any friendly group inviting us into town, just blank stares from angry-looking women gawking at Sonya.

  “Sarah and Rebecca Kingman,” he guffawed. “Better known as the Spooky Sisters.”

  “Are they ghosts?”

  He roared with laughter at the suggestion.

  “Naw, nothing like that. They’re twins. They just have a way of sneaking up on you, that's all. They never miss a beat, those ladies. I'll send one of them around to call on you in a few hours so you don't miss the festival.”

  “Thank you so much for everything,” Felicity said.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I added.

  Sonya just nodded, then turned and marched off without a word, stomping onto the porch of the last house and wrestling momentarily with the doorknob before getting it to work.

  Felicity took my hand and led me to our new lodging. The old boards on the porch looked like driftwood that had been sun bleached in the desert for a hundred years. It creaked as we both stepped onto it, but it held our combined weight despite my fears it wouldn't. I was certain we'd crash through and coiled rattlesnakes hiding underneath would attack us for disturbing their domain.

  The door opened on the first try and we walked into the small, cool, clean room. There was a decent sized bed with a horsehair blanket and a real feather pillow. There were pictures on the walls of coyotes howling at the high desert moon, and a working fireplace with a cord of wood
stacked next to it. There was also a small table with a glistening pitcher of cool water on it, two glasses, and a basket of fruit and vegetables.

  Courtesy of the Spooky Sisters, I thought.

  Felicity guided me to the bed and I fell face first into it. I was out like a light before she could ask me if I wanted something to drink. I could hear the words she was speaking, but not quite make out what they meant. I surrendered to my exhaustion and let my mind wander away as my body caught up on some long needed rest.

  Strange images came to me, as if out of a mist, moving quickly like highlights from a television show. I couldn't keep up with any of them. They slipped through my mind like water through a sieve.

  I saw Sonya riding Black Beauty, breaking free and riding away, leaving us behind. I called out to her, but she was gone, vanishing into the horizon. I saw the people of Gold Strike City smiling and laughing, having fun. Off in the distance I saw a whirling cloud of red and black fire heading toward us. None of the people seemed to notice they were in danger. The tornado of fire came ripping through town, setting them all ablaze and turning everything it touched to powdery ashes. There was screaming and crying and the sound of horses running fast and loud, like demons snorting. I could feel my heart racing in my chest as I fought to break free from the terrible dream.

  I woke with a start, not knowing where I was. I looked around in confusion, my eyes settling on Felicity who sat next to me on the bed. She leaned over and kissed my forehead.

  “You okay? I've been worried about you. You were fighting and kicking in your sleep. I didn't want to wake you because I know you need your rest.”

  “Yeah,” I said, my throat feeling dry. “I just had a bad dream is all.”

  Felicity handed me a glass of water and I sat up, gulping it down.