Zombie Attack! Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Devan Sagliani

  “So what happened?”

  “I went out behind the buildings,” Moto’s eyes darted back and forth as he spoke. “There were dirt fields back there, overgrown with weeds. I had to relieve myself, and wanted to do it in private. I started going and I looked up at the warm sun and the next thing I knew something bit my calf just above the boot. I looked down in shock to see a scraggly-looking man gnawing into my leg. He had no eyelids and he just stared up at me, snarling the whole time. I can still see him when I close my eyes at night.”

  “Was he a crawler?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Moto said. “You could call him that. His pants were empty below the knees, as if someone had chewed off his calves and now he wanted revenge. He was one of the migrant farm workers who used to pick the vegetables. He'd crawled right out of the weeds and taken a chunk out of me, all because I closed my eyes for a minute. I was so angry, I couldn't see straight. I beat him with the butt of my gun until I cracked his skull and he stopped squirming.”

  “So why couldn't you tell me?” I asked.

  “Because I was embarrassed,” Moto shouted. “I still am. I let my guard down, and because of that I almost died. If it hadn't been for my men taking me right back to the base, I would have died for sure. I begged them to just shoot me right then and there. Instead, they took me back to General Conrad. He had sample batches at the lab, stuff that Franco had sent over. They were waiting for something like this to happen. The General told me I was doing a great service to my country by volunteering to be a test subject. I didn't see that I had much choice. To be honest, I didn't think it would work. There are times I am still surprised that it did.”

  “Well, I'm glad it did,” I laughed. “I'm guessing that if you weren't bitten first, I wouldn't have ever been turned back either. You're a high-ranking officer. At the time, I was just your lost kid brother. They wouldn't have wanted to waste it on me.”

  “Probably not,” Moto agreed. “But don't you see what it cost us? It was because I let them turn me back that the General allowed Franco and his men to set up on base. And that ended up costing him his life. All of this is my fault. If I hadn't been slacking off I wouldn't have gotten bit, and if I'd never gotten bit in the first place Franco wouldn't be in the position he is right now.”

  “That's nonsense,” I said without hesitation. “Franco would have found a way. It was always part of his plan. Guys like him don't just give up and go away. From what Sonya said, he probably would have brought his own zombie and infected the General himself.”

  “I guess we'll never know now,” Moto said, not sounding any better about his role in our current state of affairs.

  “What about Franco?” I asked. “How do you think that's gonna play out?”

  I felt the fear rising up in my stomach like a tickle, but fought to stay in control of it.

  “That's harder to guess,” Moto admitted. “Like you said, guys like Franco don't ever just go away quietly on their own. They only get worse with time. One thing we can be sure of, he's not going to just confess and surrender. Franco isn't interested in what's best for everyone. He only cares at this point about getting his way. Once he got a taste of power, he was instantly addicted. I believe he'll do anything to keep from losing it again.”

  “In other words, he's not gonna go gently into that good night as the saying goes,” I said, summing up Moto's point.

  “Let's just put it this way,” Moto laughed. “He's not going anywhere without a fight. Something tells me the only way to get rid of a guy like Franco for good is to kill him dead.”

  I let his words sink in. I'd known since he'd told us back in Xanadu that nothing short of a battle to the death was going to remove Franco, but it was different now that we were on our way. As we drew closer to the base the radio came back to life.

  “Code C. I repeat Code C. ABO,” a voice warned before the radio went dead silent again.

  “What's that mean?” I asked

  “I can tell you,” Moto cautioned, “but you're not gonna like it.”

  “That doesn't mean I don't need to hear it,” I protested.

  “I know,” Moto relented. “I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. Code C means Franco has initiated a military coup. I'm not sure how, but he's managed to get enough Blackshirts on his side to keep the rest of the men in line. I knew he was working on it, I just didn't think it would happen so fast.”

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “I've got a man on the inside close to Franco that he doesn't know about,” Moto said.

  “You mean like a double agent?”

  “Something like that,” Moto shrugged. “If my spy wasn't able to see this coming it must be some kind of new development.”

  “Does this mean that we turn back?”

  “Negative,” Moto snapped. “We've got a mission either way. The ladies might not understand that, but I'm sure you do. You see, Xander, some things are worth risking your life over. Some things are worth protecting. Hell, some things are even worth dying for.”

  “You don't have to tell me,” I protested. “I'm the one who's married, remember?”

  “Exactly. If you had seen what is in that lab, you'd know we've got to do everything in our power to stop him now, that we can't wait and let it get any worse.”

  “Sonya told us all about it last night,” I countered. “Before you two went storming off to fight.”

  “She told you some of what she saw,” Moto corrected me. “She left out a lot. I think she wanted to spare Sam from the worst of it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Do you remember how she talked about him experimenting on them? It wasn't just for fun. He has something specific in mind.”

  “What is it?”

  “He wants to turn them into something worse than zombies,” Moto explained.

  “What does that mean? What's worse than zombies?”

  “He's not just trying to synthesize an antidote,” Moto said. “He wants to make super soldiers incapable of feeling fear or pain.”

  I shook my head, fighting off the eerie chill his words had sent down my spine.

  “That's not possible,” I faintly replied, hoping I was right. “Is it?”

  “I'm not sure,” Moto said grimly. “You see it comes from a virus, and all viruses mutate. I think he believes Dr. Winterbourne will be able to help him create a new strain that leaves its victims open to suggestion. Franco wants to program them to respond only to him.”

  “So no one will be able to resist his demands,” I gulped.

  “Exactly,” Moto agreed. “He'll be able to take over the whole world without ever even getting his hands dirty. We think he's been working on this for a long time, long before Z Day, that it's what he was really doing for the government. Only it didn't produce much in the way of results. Most of the people he's experimented on have died horrific deaths, as the testing distorted their minds and bodies.”

  “There's no way the people in charge could just turn a blind eye to that,” I argued. “They'd have to want to shut him down. It's evil.”

  “Right,” Moto continued. “Not to mention they needed hundreds of people for their trials, and all they had were prisoners and enemy combatants. They just weren't able to make it work and keep it quiet at the same time.”

  “Until the zombies came along,” I said, realizing what he was getting at all at once.

  “Precisely. Turns out Franco's friend, who looked like an interrogator, was actually a Colombian scientist they call Dr. G. He went to work right away rigging up units and testing out ways to keep them moving, using live volunteers as bait.”

  “Who would volunteer for a thing like that?”

  “No one,” Moto quickly rejoined. “Franco and his men were singling out the weak and unwanted from the new recruits, telling them it was for a special assignment. These were outcasts that didn't fit in, scared civilians who thought signing up would be easier than going it alone. Once they got here they were shunned by fellow
soldiers, made fun of for their differences, and generally were bullied. You've seen it. You know that it's happening.”

  “Fobbits and oxygen thieves,” I remembered.

  “Exactly,” Moto chirped.

  I had seen it, but there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. I kept telling myself that time would bring the men together, but I turned a blind eye as well. Out of sight was out of mind. The next thing I knew I was in Freedom Town, dealing with undesirables of my own.

  “These guys were only too happy to be part of a special mission that pulled them out of the regular lineup,” Moto continued. “They jumped at the chance to volunteer, especially after Franco and his Blackshirts told them they'd be off their feet all day in a cool room, watching television, and eating whatever they wanted. Not one of them stopped to think it was too good to be true.”

  “I never realized it,” I said, thinking back to the first days on the base. I had seen a fair number of troublemakers go missing before being shipped off. I'd just assumed they'd been reassigned like they'd bragged about. Now I knew what that meant. “It was happening under my nose the whole time, under all of our noses, and we didn't even see it.”

  “Dr. G divided the volunteers into two groups,” Moto explained. “One group was immediately infected. He started by pulling out their teeth while they were still human, before turning them against their will. Once the biological agent was introduced into their system, their mouths were then sprayed with a sort of plastic laminate that coated the wounds. That way they could no longer bite.”

  “And that means they can't infect anyone,” I said, following along.

  “But they could still tear people to pieces,” Moto countered. “They'd still be possessed with the desire to eat human flesh.”

  “So they'd be super strong and unable to die,” I added. “And they'd only respond to Franco. Great.”

  “The perfect weapon,” Moto went on. “The second group was then brought in. They were used as bait, cut up and tortured in front of the new batch of hungry zombies, then placed just out of reach. In most cases they fed the zombies the fingers of their counterpart volunteers, to motivate them to break through chains or punch through concrete blocks. A lot of the men eventually bled out and died. The ones that didn't die joined the first group. Their last memories were of having their teeth pulled out one at a time while they screamed in disbelief.”

  “How do you know all this?” I asked in shock.

  “There were detailed notes of the whole experiment in the files Sonya grabbed. You ever wanna read something truly horrifying, let me know and I will show them to you. Just be warned, though – you might never sleep again.”

  “Wow,” I said, at a loss for words.

  “From what we can tell, Franco's plan was to enlist warlords and outlaws to his side with the promise of protection and plunder, then turn his army of the dead on the military and anyone else who might get in his way.”

  “And if someone ever got out of line or challenged him?” I asked.

  “Then he'd sic his undead troops on them to restore order, I guess, and set an example. With a mega horde of hungry monsters he'd be able to knock down the most fortified compound, even take out all of our military installations if he felt like it. We'd be almost powerless to stop him.”

  “No one would be able to say no to him,” I said, shaking my head. “He'd be the most powerful man alive.”

  “Now you know why we have to go back,” Moto recapped. “We can't let him get to that point. There's too much at stake. If we don't act now, it will be too late. Sure we could hide in Xanadu and try to wait it out...”

  “But eventually he'd find us,” I realized.

  “...and when he did, he'd have an army of super zombies that would never stop coming until they'd torn us all to shreds, or worse, turned us into one of them to be used by guys like John and Franco.”

  It was unimaginable, a fate worse than death itself.

  “We're getting close now,” Moto noted. “Get ready for anything.”

  I glanced up at the mirror. Looking behind us, I could see a trail of dust rising up into the air as a vehicle came racing up.

  “Looks like we've got company,” Moto smirked. “That didn't take long. Sit tight and don't make any sudden movements. Got it?” I nodded in reply, feeling my mouth go bone dry.

  They were on us in less than a few minutes.

  “Driver,” the voice commanded. “Reduce your speed, but continue forward. That is an order. Do not, I repeat, do not deviate from your current trajectory or you will be fired upon.”

  I looked for a side road we could escape along, but it was already too late. Matching Humvees pulled alongside of ours, blocking our escape. We were being guided up to the front gate where a squadron of Blackshirts flanked the newly crowned General Franco. Moto began to slow, and the Humvee behind us pushed us forward.

  “One more question,” I pleaded, turning to my big brother.

  “Better make it fast,” he said.

  “ABO? What's that mean?”

  “It means 'All Bets Are Off,’” he said, staring straight ahead at the road. “It means we're on our own for now.”

  Soldiers came over and took the keys. They pulled us out of the car, and took our weapons as well. When we'd been properly frisked and searched, they signaled the all clear to the front gates and slowly backed away, their weapons still trained on us.

  General Franco smiled as he came around the front of the car.

  “I've gotta say,” Franco began, “You surprise me. I thought by now you and your band of terrorists would be long gone, hiding in the shadows somewhere waiting for us to track you down and bring you to justice. The last thing I expected was for you to just pop up here and turn yourselves in.”

  “That just goes to show that you don't know me very well,” Moto defended himself, staring him dead in the eye. “If you did, you'd have never come here in the first place. You'd have known the only way I'd let you do what you’re planning on doing is over my dead body.”

  “Careful what you wish for,” Franco warned, signaling to two of his security detail who came forward to guard against any escape attempt.

  “Now,” Franco said with an evil grin. “Where is your little girlfriend?”

  “Someplace safe where you can't ever get to her.”

  “One way or another I'll get it out of you,” Franco threatened. “It's just a matter of time, which you have very little left of at this point. As you know, the punishment for treason is death. Right now, at this very moment, they are building a gallows for your and your brother in the middle of the base. By this time tomorrow you'll be swinging in the breeze by your neck, your lifeless bodies on display for all to see. The last of the great Macnamaras, twisting in the wind, reminding everyone just what happens when you cross me.”

  “You can't do that!” I shouted before the man next to me slapped the back of my head to silence me.

  “I can and I will,” Franco sternly replied. “Military law clearly states the punishment for enemies of the State, not that I've ever cared all that much for the rules, to be honest. Moto here has been found guilty of abandoning his post, assisting the enemy, and treason. He's been stripped of his rank, and labeled a traitor. You've also been found guilty of aiding and abetting the enemy. So you see, I'm well within my legal rights to dispose of you as I see fit.”

  I looked over at Moto to see if we should get up and fight. He shook his head no.

  “I don't want to see you hang,” Franco seemed to soften. “I believe your family history and your record of service have earned you a chance at redemption. So here it is. Tell me where the girl who took my plants is hiding, and I will spare your lives. You'll spend the rest of your days behind bars as disgraced traitors who turned on their country, but alive and well. There are some here who say you don't deserve that much, that scum like you should be dealt with swiftly and severely, but I'm willing to offer you mercy if you cooperate. It's my final offer.”
>
  Moto spit in his face in reply. Franco laughed as he wiped it off.

  “Have it your way,” he smirked. “Give them a taste, boys.”

  The next thing I knew, guys dressed all in black were beating us from every side. The beating seemed to go on forever. At one point Moto and I were back on our feet, taking on several soldiers apiece. It made almost no difference. They had sheer numbers and soon overwhelmed us again, knocking us back down to the ground. The last thing I remember before blacking out was curling up in a ball to protect my head, while an endless procession of blows rained down on me.

  Chapter Seven

  An icy cold splash of water brought me back to life, hands up and ready to fight. I turned in circles looking for the source of my attacker while crude laughter rang out all around me. My eyes were trying to adjust; my head was ringing. I could feel my face was swollen in places. I could taste blood in my mouth. Put simply, I had been put through the ringer.

  “Wakey wakey,” a familiar voice sang out. I turned and saw that my brother was next to me, looking exactly like I felt. My vision began to adjust and I could see we were in a cell with bars around it. The man holding the bucket leered at us. It was John from New Lompoc.

  “Surprise! Yeah it's me. And guess what? I'm pissed off now! I gave you a chance to do the right thing; I trusted you once again,” the veins in his neck stood out as the blood beamed in his anger-contorted features. “And once again you betrayed that trust! Well look at what it got you. I hope you're happy now!”

  “Enough,” Franco roared, walking up and pulling John back from the bars and out of the way. “I don't have time for your petty revenge plots right now. You are to stand there and keep your mouth shut or, so help me, I will have you and your little band of pajama wearing freaks escorted to the edge of the base trenches and executed. Do I make myself clear?”