Zombie Attack! Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Devan Sagliani

  A near deafening crack erupted in front of me, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air as the crowd parted. A man dressed up in a shiny red vest and a bowler, who was staring at his pocket watch through a monocle, slowly began falling to his knees. He'd been halfway through a spirited performance when the godless savages descended over the streets of Gold Strike City. His finger trembled like the bare branches of a tree caught in a violent windstorm. A red rose blossomed onto the front of his white shirt near his heart where he'd been shot. His mouth moved rapidly, but no sound emerged as he pitched forward. I rushed ahead to catch him before he face-planted into the dirt. He whispered in my ear, his voice barely audible over the unholy din of the bikers.

  “Give this to Sarah,” he pleaded. “She is and always has been my one true love.”

  Without another word he collapsed, the weight of his lifeless body dragging him from my arms onto his back where he stared up peacefully at me, his unblinking eyes already clouding over with death. I looked up just in time to see a bike bearing down on me, the rider wildly swinging a spiked metal ball on a chain. Adrenaline shot through me as I realized I was in his path and I rolled out of the way, feeling the whoosh of air as the weapon missed its intended target – my head. Curses rang out behind me as the biker passed, angry that I'd managed to avoid the impact of his lethal toy. He nearly crashed as he wrangled his bike around to make another pass in my direction, flashing a row of blackened teeth the color of wet coal. He roared his engine to life and took off toward me once more, looking completely confident as he began whirling his mace into a repetitive loop in preparation of his impending attack. He parted his cracked lips and his brown tongue wagged, as he let out a series of high yelps for a war cry.

  I glanced back down at the dirt where the shot man lay dying. By his side were two crying women, both the mirror image of one another. They wailed as they lifted him up to carry him off.

  Those must be the Spooky Sisters, I thought. One of them looked up and caught my stare. There was anger and sadness and shock in her fierce gray eyes. The look seemed to say, don't let the men who are responsible for this get away with it. Fight back!

  Suddenly I felt a terrible anger rise up in me like nothing I'd felt before. I was tired of being a victim. I was tired of running. Most of all, I was tired of seeing good people trampled by savage animals who didn't give a damn about those they hurt, as they continued to set the world on fire.

  I turned and raised my sword, ready for battle. The Alpha riding on his chopper grinned at my invitation as he bore down on me. He seemed totally oblivious to the change that had just happened, but if I had anything to say about it he'd soon learn just what kind of mistake he'd made.

  You woke a sleeping tiger, I thought, as I gripped my blade so hard my knuckles turned white. Now you're going to pay the price.

  The motorcycle was nearly on top of me. I felt a rush of energy surge through me, and time seemed to slow down momentarily as everything became clear.

  That's your adrenaline kicking in, I heard Moto's voice tell me in my head. In a fight or flight situation, the body kicks out a fat dose to keep your senses sharp. A foolish and unskilled warrior lets it overwhelm their senses, feeding their fear and causing panic, while an experienced and seasoned fighter learns to use it to their advantage.

  The words spoken long ago in a Saturday afternoon training session flashed back clear as day to me as the biker came within striking distance. With the slightest pivot of my body I swung underneath the spinning metal ball as it careened past my head, touching not a single hair as it whizzed by. In an instant I saw the look of disappointment flare across my enemy’s face at missing once again. A split second later it froze in a mask of surprise as I brought my katana down, slicing his left arm clean off. The hand still holding the wooden stick twitched as it fell into the dusty road right next to where the old man had just been. The biker howled in pain, letting go of the chopper’s handlebars to clutch at his shoulder where his arm should have been – but instead was now raw flesh spurting blood like a fountain. The bike wobbled and fell over, crashing down with all of its weight on him and pinning him underneath. In no time, a ring of townspeople gathered around and began kicking and beating him mercilessly, while all he could do was cry out in pain.

  I looked over to see both Spooky Sisters staring at me with pride in their eyes. There was no time to celebrate though, as we were still far from safe. A loud cracking sound rang out as I watched the General Store roof come crashing in, belching out a huge gust of black smoke and fiery red embers, just as I'd seen in my dream. I heard more screaming and a series of rolling booms in the distance, like someone unloading a shotgun.

  I turned back toward the saloon to see the roof was now on fire as well. The doors burst open and townsfolk ran out screaming, right smack into a circle of bikers whooping and firing off their guns. A group of terrified women let out a unified shriek in harmony as they found themselves caught in the middle of the mayhem, unable to escape the eye of the storm. To make matters worse, a hail of gunfire that seemed to go on forever easily cut down the men that charged the bikers in an attempt to free the girls. I froze as a cold fear ran down my spine, searching the huddle for signs of Felicity, but she wasn't part of the quivering ball of women wailing in fear. There was also no sign of Bad Bart, not even among the fallen, one of which had died right at the entrance to the saloon, propping open the heavy wooden door with his corpse and giving me a view into a room that only moments before had resounded with laughter and merriment. Inside, bright yellow flames merrily danced where once people had moved to the music. The structure shook as the flames came licking out the front of the windows, leaving fresh stains of black as they withdrew like painted shadows.

  “Felicity! Felicity Jane!”

  Where is she? My mind raced. Nothing else mattered but finding her and getting to safety. I felt a creeping dread growing rapidly inside me like a time-lapse shot of paralyzing fungus.

  I heard the sound of several bikes rumbling behind me. Whipping around, I saw three Alphas at the end of the main strip making their way to the heart of the action. Although they were bearing down on me, I didn't have time to jump clear. Holding my blade up as a warning I prepared to take a swing at them as they passed, but they swerved around me like a river rushing around a large stone. They shouted out as they shot by, the driven wind knocking my cowboy hat off and rustling my hair, but leaving me otherwise unscathed. A girl’s face floated into my field of vision for a moment, like a pale ghost. Her young face was covered in heavy makeup, making her look much older, but her eyes told a different story. Behind those eyes was a sadness that cut me to my soul. A spark of recognition fired in my brain and I realized that I knew the girl dressed in torn rags, clinging to the back of the lead Alpha for dear life, her tiny painted nails biting into his leather vest.

  That's Janice Johnson, I thought in surprise. She looked like she'd aged by several years since the day I'd last seen her. A small part of me was just happy she was alive, that she hadn't been sold to Hellfire, or worse, eaten. My mind flashed to Stanley, remembering his angry, accusing eyes following me as I was taken away.

  He may not even be alive anymore, I realized. For all I know, there is nothing left of Freedom Town but a pile of ashes.

  The realization made my guts twist into knots. I'd poured my heart and soul into that colony, spent countless hours preparing and defending it. The thought that all could be wiped away in my absence, in under a day no less, made me physically sick to my stomach. I felt the anger start to bubble up again as I pictured the faces of all the people I'd grown to know and love. The mounting realization that they were almost certainly dead now, at the hands of the same people who were tormenting Gold Strike City, filled me with a fury that would only be quenched with blood.

  I let out a war cry from the depths of my soul and charged into the melee. Blinded by my rage I brought down my sword over and over, slicing up the closest Alpha to me – a dirt covered scumb
ag with blood sprayed across his face who'd stopped to bedevil a small child by pointing a loaded revolver into his young, confused face. The biker’s self-pleased giggling at his cruel game quickly turned into blood-curdling shrieks that echoed all around me, as I dispatched him without mercy. Looking up I saw I'd caught the attention of several of his buddies, who were now abandoning their own cruel games of torturing townsfolk to avenge their fallen comrade. It was at that moment I saw Bad Bart carry Felicity Jane in his arms out the front doors of the saloon, just as the roof came down and the building crumbled. Our eyes met for an instant and he nodded at me, adjusting Felicity's weight as she stirred.

  She's alive! It was all that registered in my brain. My heart skipped a beat as my fear of losing her subsided, allowing my mind to kick back fully into fight mode once more.

  Bart made a move toward me, but I cried out at the top of my lungs.

  “NO! GET HER AWAY FROM HERE!”

  The words were barely out of my mouth before the first biker came barreling at me, a blunderbuss discharging from his left hand as he tried to run me down. The glowing hot metal ball that shot out of the muzzle end whizzed past my face, missing me only by inches. The man on the bike wasn't as lucky. With a smooth motion I brought my sword down and, missing his head, sliced off his ear. He cried out like a little girl as he flew past me, his lost appendage falling into the dirt as a fine arc of blood sprayed into the air.

  Just seconds later the next biker came flying at me from the other side. He had on sunglasses even though it was dark outside. He was swinging a metal chain above his head, grinning from ear to ear. I barely had time to pull my sword up before he passed so close to me I could smell his foul breath. I felt the wind go out of me as the heavy rope links hit me dead in the chest, knocking me off my feet. Panic shot through me as I gulped desperately for breath.

  Get back on your feet! Get up now or you're done for! Don't just lie there, get up and FIGHT!

  There was a loud crashing sound that shook the ground while I was lying vulnerable and supine. I felt something warm and wet to my left side. My head throbbed and I gasped, doing my best to suck fresh air into my lungs. They felt like they were bruised.

  GET UP AND FIGHT OR YOU WILL DIE!

  Fear began to set in once again, cold and familiar, as I realized I knew what the wet feeling was.

  It’s blood, I thought. It has to be. You're bleeding to death.

  With trembling hands I searched my chest and sides for the source of the bleeding, but couldn't find a wound. I brought my hand to my face and saw it was slick with fresh blood. I heard a moaning from somewhere to my right, and rolled onto my side in that direction, pain radiating from my chest where the chain had connected. I saw that the man who'd given me the wound was faring far worse than I was. His bike was smashed and gasoline had leaked out of it into the street, making a big mud puddle. He had my katana jammed all the way through him, entering from the stomach and coming out the middle of his back. Blood gushed out of the gaping slash caused by my sword, flowing into a puddle at my side. He was no longer wearing his cool shades. His cocky attitude was now long gone. He blinked over and over. His mouth opened and closed as if he was about to say something important, but no words came out. He took hold of the blade with both hands and yanked it loose with a loud scream. Instantly a fresh wave of blood came gushing out of the dark, angry wound. For one terrible moment I thought he would use my own sword against me, but then the life seemed to slither out of him. He fell on his side and didn't move again.

  I crawled on my hands and knees over to him, still feeling the stinging and tightness in my chest, but doing my best to ignore it. I wrapped my ready hands around my blade and began to pick it up when I felt something cold and wet hitting the back of my head, making me flinch. I knew what it was by the smell before I saw where it was coming from. It was gasoline. Ignoring my injuries, I rolled over and looked up to see the Alpha Chieftain who had captured me in his net back at Freedom Town. He was holding an empty glass bottle just over my head in one hand and the rag he'd taken out of it in the other. There was a look in his eyes I'd never seen before, somewhere between unbridled hatred and a painful kind of ecstasy. He threw the bottle at my head, but I ducked under it, leaving it to bounce off my left shoulder and make me wince in pain.

  You've hit me in the head for the last time, I thought darkly as I contemplated my next move.

  “Lookie here now,” he began. “Big fishee trya swimheselfa up da stream.”

  He pulled a metal lighter from his pocket, clicked open the lid with his big, dirty thumb, and lit it by rolling the metal wheel up his pants until a spark ignited the wick. I sat up on my knees and rubbed my shoulder hard, hoping to make the new pain go away.

  “Boss lady say she gonna pay big reward for dis here fish come home in one piece,” the Alpha said as he drew near, holding the flame steady. “She gonna be real mad, screamin an cussin' too. Cuz this here fishee goin' fry for what he do, burn up so nice an crispy dem zombies not even gonna wanna bite him no how.”

  The smell of the fumes wafted around me, and once again fresh panic shot through me as my mind raced. He was close enough that I could see the sparkle in his glassy eyes as he leered at me. I ran through my options in my mind.

  I could kick his feet out, I thought, but then I risk him falling over and setting me on fire. Same thing with my blade.

  I began to crawl backward, crablike and away from him, but he just laughed at my feeble attempt to escape.

  “Look at dem fishie flop pop,” he cooed. “Ain't no mo places to hide.”

  Holding the lighter up over his head, he ran up and kicked me square in the chest. My arms flailed and I landed once more on my back, my chest stinging. I could feel my blade fall out of my hand, but overwhelmed by pain and short of breath I was powerless to do anything. The Alpha Chieftain stood over me and cackled like an angry crow.

  “Dis a lass stop boy,” he announced, looking down at me. “Soon nuff dem flames goin take you down inda pain, downa bottom ofa river, ina messa darkness.”

  My heart was beating so fast it felt like would burst right out of my chest.

  This can't be how I die, I thought. It's not right! Not after everything I've been through. Not without saying goodbye to Moto and Felicity and Benji. I don't want the last thing I see in this world to be this ugly, awful face taking pleasure in my suffering.

  I saw his hand coming down in slow motion, bringing the dancing flame closer to me. His eyes broke from my horrified stare, turning up in shock. I heard the cry of a horse from somewhere nearby, then saw a flash of something dark and shiny as Black Beauty came flying over me, crashing head first into my tormenter and sending him cartwheeling away from me, coming to rest next to the downed motorcycle of his comrade I'd just killed. Looking up I saw Sonya riding bareback once more, effortlessly controlling the huge beast as if they were fused together. She made a clicking sound with her tongue and the animal turned, reared up, and kicked the Chieftain as he climbed back to his feet, catching him dead in his chest and stomach, and sending him flying once more onto his dead pal. Sonya didn't wait to see if he would be getting up again. She galloped to me and I stood up, taking her arm and letting her swing me onto the back of the horse. I wrapped my arms around her waist as we charged back toward the charred remains of the saloon.

  “Hang on,” she yelled, just as another explosion ripped through the night behind us. I felt a blast of heat hitting my back. I turned my head to see the Chieftain now fully engulfed in flames along with his friend and the bike. For a moment it looked like he was going to get up, that not even being set on fire from head to toe was enough to stop him, but then he fell back into the gas puddle, his legs twitching momentarily, and then going still.

  I turned my head back to see that the fighting had intensified. I saw Marshal Hudson in the middle of it, taking out bikers one at a time with a bolt-action rifle. He was deadly accurate, lining the moving targets up in his sights, taking his time,
then bringing them down. Frank, the blacksmith I'd met earlier in the day, was fighting too, along with a handful of townspeople. For a moment I thought we'd be joining them, but Sonya veered at the last second and took off toward the entrance of Gold Strike City, flying past the posts that had once been part of their trusted defense system, and into the scrub brush beyond.

  “Wait,” I shouted into her ear. “We have to go back and help them.”

  But she just didn't slow. If anything she seemed to pick up speed, completely ignoring my pleas. Out in front of us a full, milky white moon rose in the distance. I turned and looked back at the town, seeing only shadows moving back and forth between smoke and flames, like flickering images from a movie screen. I looked down to see the ground rushing past. We were going too fast to jump off. There was a good chance I'd break my leg or worse if I tried, but part of me still wanted to fight. I needed to go back. I had to find Felicity, and I couldn't just abandon the people that had taken us in.

  “We have to go back,” I shouted, but Sonya shook her head no. “I'm not leaving without Felicity!”

  Sonya leaned back, and Black Beauty slowed as we came closer to the ridge.

  “Where do you think I'm taking you?”

  She held up her arm and pointed with one finger to a small cluster of shadows in the distance. I squinted to make out the lowered shapes of Bad Bart and Felicity next to another horse. We caught up to them in minutes. I didn't wait for Sonya to bring the horse to a stop before jumping off and racing to Felicity. She was lying on her back with Bart leaning over her. He turned and looked up at me.

  “She's okay,” he said. “She just passed out from smoke inhalation is all.”

  He moved away so I could take her in my arms.

  “Felicity! Talk to me, baby. It's okay. I'm here now.”

  She opened her eyes, looked up at me and smiled.

  “You're alive,” she croaked in a deep voice. I let out a little laugh as I felt the stitch in my chest relax.