Molly: Immersion (Zombie Instinct Book 2)

by J. B. Havens

  Turning to the open door, she followed the scent down the steps. Molly smelled different to her than the other zombies. Unique. Like dead flowers and rotting leaves. The scent got stronger as she reached the bottom of the stairs. The bodies of a man and one zombie were all that was left there. Looking up, she saw the hooks and the frayed ends of rope still dangling from them.

  She pieced together the scene in her mind, combining it together into a terrible picture. “Molly ended up here somehow and killed these two, but left the zombie upstairs behind. Interesting.”

  Heading back upstairs and outside, she surveyed her group. Touching each mentally as her eyes reached them. Erik was last, her newest recruit.

  Erik.

  Yes, my queen?

  Did you find any sign of the bitch out here?

  Having minions to do your bidding was one thing, having one that understood you and could respond was another. With Erik she discovered that turning someone herself, they became like her. Stronger, smarter, faster, and most importantly, able to communicate with her. Two heads were always better than one, her mother used to say.

  Yes, my queen. Tracks in the snow.

  Show me.

  Commanding him was easy, effortless. He wanted her direction, craved it even. He would be lost without it. They had a connection that was hard to describe. It developed the instant the fever burned out and his eyes opened to his new life. Their minds were bound tighter than any marriage could ever hope to be.

  Erik walked to the back of the cabin, stopping with his toes almost touching a set of footprints. She was wearing boots now, the heavy tread different from the other tracks in the area. Smiling, flashing blood-stained teeth, Kelle’s excitement grew.

  “Come now, my children. We go a-hunting!”

  Chapter Eight

  I ran for weeks, travelling by night and resting during the day when the sun became too much to bear. When the hunger pains could no longer be ignored and my pace faltered, I hunted. I chased down a deer, a female. After that I learned that bigger kills took too much energy to catch, smaller animals were a better choice. Their blood was hot and if I tried really hard, I could pretend it filled me up as well as people had. Running did me little good, though. I couldn’t run from myself or the virus inside me. I knew Kelle was following me, that she would catch up to me and I would be forced to deal with her. She kept reaching out with her electric shocks into my mind. I could feel her glee each time she reached me.

  So, I ran faster.

  I briefly considered using a vehicle, but most roads were more dangerous than the countryside. I skirted cities when I was able and fought my way through when I wasn’t. There were other Alphas and I wanted to avoid them at all costs. Those that I’d encountered were weaker than I was, commanding only small groups at a time. It only took one stupid mistake to die and my ability to tolerate the sunlight saved me, in a city whose name I didn’t know.

  Using the compass I’d found at the cabin, I kept heading south. I was forced into a city by a river on one side and a clogged highway on the other. The sun was just breaking over the horizon when I entered the run-down neighborhood. As a human, I would have driven far out of my way to avoid it. Gang tags and cars on cinder blocks told me this area was long dead, even before the infected rose.

  The occasional barking dog and chirping of birds were the only sounds breaking the silence. Not a drape fluttered in any of the houses I passed. Many were tagged with a large white ‘X’. The symbols were different in each city, but they meant the same thing. Dead inside, don’t enter. I didn’t need the painted warnings to tell me that. I could feel them, hiding in the darkened rooms and basements. Shifting around each other, touching and retreating like dancers. I gave each group of zombies the same order. Don’t come out. Ever. I hoped it would save some poor bastard forced to travel through here after me. Of course, I had no way of knowing how long they would obey or if they would at all. The others I’d commanded were right in front of me.

  Two blocks ahead I could just make out a group of ten or so zombies, led by a man who stood out in front of them. Without thinking, I touched each mentally, not realizing the effect it would have. The man’s grey haired head whipped around in my direction. He screeched, long and loud. He spread his arms wide, stretching himself out to show me how large he was. He screamed again, throwing his arms forward in my direction. His horde sprinted toward me, arms flailing as they ran.

  “Oh shit,” I said, pulling the machete from my waist as I jumped onto the hood of a car, then climbed up the windshield onto the roof. If they pulled me down, even with my strength, I wouldn’t be able to escape them.

  The sun was rising higher, starting to burn my eyes. I slipped my sunglasses down off the top of my head and braced myself as they slammed into the car. One industrious bastard climbed the hood, I sank the blade into his skull and kicked him off. He fell into his fellows, knocking a few down in the process. Trying to command them, I shouted, “Stop!” They froze for a second, their leader’s face going red as he shouted unintelligibly before they continued.

  I killed two more that climbed onto the car until they got smart. They stopped attacking me directly and instead surrounded the car and began to shake it. As they gained momentum, it began to sway back and forth. My feet slid across the slick metal roof as I struggled to keep my balance.

  Kicking a woman in the face, she fell to the side and I jumped off the car into the space she’d vacated. Seconds after my feet touched pavement, the car went past its center of gravity and tipped over with an explosion of shattering glass and screeching metal. Just set the thing on fire and I could pretend I was at Berkley.

  Turning around, I ran toward the leader, screaming like a banshee. He was no match for my speed and strength. I kept the machete gripped with both hands, prepared for a two handed swing. I lopped off his head in one furious motion. Blood spattered all over me and his body fell to the side with a wet splat on the pavement. Now leaderless, the zombies behind me screeched in pain from the sun. They ran in different directions, all seeking shelter. He had been commanding them to stay out here, forcing them to endure the pain.

  Sighing heavily, I wiped the machete on the man’s shirt and sought my own shelter. It had been a hell of a morning.

  Forcing myself back to the present, I kept moving. The sun was up but it was overcast, and thunderheads on the horizon blocked out the burning rays. Every day I went further south, the weather improved bit by bit. I soon left the snow behind and instead dealt with rain. The cold and wet didn’t affect me physically, but it made trekking across fields, forests, and cities alike much easier. My pace quickened as the weather improved. I hadn’t realized how much energy simply trudging through heavy snow used until I didn’t have to do it anymore.

  Two days ago, I crossed the border into Virginia. I don’t know what I was doing back there. Maybe I thought things would be different somehow? I wasn’t just changed, I was a different being altogether. Not human. I’m a monster with a human brain. I felt apart from myself. Every day I was ripped in different directions. My actions in the past disgusted me. I’d fed on people. I’d eaten human flesh. I wasn’t even sure why I was running anymore, I should have stopped moving, kept my feet planted in the soft earth where I stood, and let Kelle kill me the moment she arrived. Submit. No fighting back. No last ditch effort to salvage what remaining life I had.

  Unfortunately for Kelle, and for me too I guess, quitting wasn’t in my genetic makeup. I didn’t know how to do it. If suicide would have been something that was an option for me I’d have blown my brains out in spectacular fashion when the first gore-soaked, people eating machines showed up on my TV screen. Years of Catholic schools left their impression: killing was a mortal sin but suicide was a one way ticket to the Pit. There are some things that you just couldn’t shake, no matter how long it’d been since I’d seen the inside of a confessional.

  So I took a step, and then another. I kept my feet moving in the direction my very h
uman-ish brain told me to go.

  ****

  Erik, I’m getting very frustrated with this bitch. We need to pick up the pace. Talking with Erik in her mind was becoming easier and more natural all the time. Speaking aloud seemed to be too much trouble. Standing from the circle her horde had formed around her, Kelle looked out the window of the old farmhouse. They’d found this place a day ago, the remains of its occupants were no more than scattered, gnawed on bones.

  Of course, my queen. I agree. But your children are what is slowing us down. We have to keep stopping to feed them. You and I alone can go days between feedings.

  Do you wish to kill them all, then?

  My queen, leaving them behind would be easier and keep us more in line with our timetable.

  Already, Molly was two days ahead of them. Over the weeks and miles, Kelle had learned that her telepathic link’s range was broad, but anything over sixty or so miles and the connection faded out. To figure this out, she’d found zombies far out and timed how long it took to reach them. Molly seemed to be able to travel for part of the daytime, whereas she was forced to stop and find shelter each dawn, slowing her considerably.

  Molly must have a destination in mind. She’s keeping to a direct route. When she stops, we’ll catch her. Nodding to Erik, she gave the order for her horde to remain where they were. They would stay that way, like statues, until she commanded them further. She just hoped a group of survivors didn’t come along and wipe them out. Barring that, they should be safe enough in here. This small act in hopes of preserving them cost her nothing. After all, if they were all slaughtered, it wouldn’t be difficult to replenish their ranks.

  ****

  Dr. Reeves sat in the same computer chair that the younger one, Subject B, had recently occupied. It had been a few weeks since his arrival at the Northeastern Lab. The first week alone was spent on cleanup and inventory. He’d gone through all of Dr. Henderson’s lab notes and found the few remaining blood samples from both subjects. Thankfully, they’d been safe and untouched in storage. But, with only two vials apiece, it was not enough. Blood alone would not answer all of his questions.

  Clicking over, he brought up the live feed with the GPS trackers for both girls. The trackers had been implanted immediately after their arrival, before they’d regained consciousness. The first, the marginally older woman they labeled ‘Subject A’, was heading steadily south in a more or less straight line. Her only deviation was when her tracker was in the same place for about two days. Just as he was sure she was dead and he was going to send a team to recover her body, the tracker had once again begun to move. She travelled quickly, covering upwards of fifty miles each day.

  Subject B followed behind, but at a slightly slower pace. She appeared to be tracking Subject A. The motivation for which, he didn’t understand. He’d reviewed all the security footage of the lab during the time the girls were here. They’d transformed differently. Subject A seemed to think and react more or less the same as she did before infection, while Subject B experienced severe mental alterations.

  Why were they so different from one another? Dr. Henderson had believed it was because Subject B had a genetic predisposition to violence. While that may indeed be the case, he was sure there was more to it than that. He’d been attempting to observe the girls’ behavior and gain organic research results outside of a laboratory environment, but now he felt it was time to bring them in. He could go no further with his research without the subjects in front of him.

  “Sergeant?” he spoke into the intercom.

  “Yes, sir?” Rosenberg replied.

  “Ready a team, I need both subjects brought in. They must be alive. Do I make myself clear?” The girls would be useless to him dead.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ready the observation rooms. I want the security measures we discussed in place by the time they arrive. These two are smart, capable, and unbelievably strong. They must be contained properly or the entire operation will be for nothing.”

  He’d abandoned his other projects, instead funneling the remaining resources into these two. They’d seen Alphas all over the country, but there’d never been any as astounding as these two were.

  Chapter Nine

  Every business that I passed as I walked down the street in Binders Hollow, Virginia reminded me of a different time there. The café with its broken windows and blood stained walls used to have a bell over the door and a cheerful waitress who never needed to write down your order. The salon still had its sign up for their Prom Special, a wash, up-do, and make-up application for $40. What a bargain. Now, the pitiful remains of the owner beat on the glass, screaming and mewling as I passed, curlers hanging from her hair in its disarray. Touching her mind, I told her to go into the back and rest. I didn’t wait around to figure out what her interpretation of that meant. Jogging down the street, I took a left at the next intersection.

  I stopped in the middle of the street. The Euclid Apartments lay before me. Each home designed to look like a row house with brick facades and iron railings, giving them a colonial charm that the landlords had charged dearly for. Crossing onto the lawn, I walked the path by memory. Number 642 was mine. The flowers I’d planted in the cheery terra cotta pot were long dead. Their brown bodies bent and twisted, their leaves fallen and covering the dirt in which they lay. Lifting the edge of the pot, the key was just where I’d left it.

  Holding the brass key in my palm, I couldn’t help but feel strange. I was so different, but this place was so much the same. Fitting the key into the lock, it turned with a click. Taking a deep breath and steeling myself, though I didn’t know for what, I pushed open the door.

  Stale air wafted out; the stink of dust, the thick musky scent of dead plants, and empty house. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I stood in the foyer and couldn’t believe my eyes. Everything was just exactly how I’d left it so long ago; it was all covered in dust, but hadn’t been moved so much as an inch. No scavengers were here, no survivors desperate for escape from the dead, had taken residence in my absence.

  It was my home—still—after all this time.

  Running my fingers through the dust on the end table, I dropped the key in the ceramic dish I’d made in pottery class back in high school. It was the same dish I’d been dropping my keys into for years. I pulled off my boots, adding them to the pile by the door. Their muddy soles looked out of place among the shiny, practical heels.

  The apartment was dark, the heavy drapes on the French doors blocking out the light. There was nothing of use in the kitchen for me now, so I walked down the plushy carpeted hallway, enjoying the sensation of the fibers beneath my bare feet. I pushed open the door to my bedroom, finding my bed just the same as I’d left it. Messy.

  Removing the dirty linens, I threw them in the corner and put clean ones on. The closed door of the small hall closet had kept them clean, if not fresh. After making the bed, I placed my desk chair under the doorknob, it wouldn’t hold out against Kelle, but it made me feel more secure anyway. I laid the gleaming machete on the bedside table, well within reach. Can’t be too careful these days, I quipped.

  Stripping to the skin, I threw my dirty rags over with the sheets and slipped on some well-worn and comfy sweatpants and a tank top. I slid into bed under the covers, pulling the sheet and heavy quilt high around my ears, and sank down into the familiar comfort. It may have only been for today, but pretending everything was normal and that I’d just had a nightmare, was enough for me. I closed my eyes and shut out the world.

  I just wish I could still dream.

  ****

  Opening my eyes to the heavy blackness of my room, I rose and went into the bathroom. It was pitch black and I felt blind in the small space. While I could see in the dark fairly well, I needed at least some ambient light. Finding the small bathroom window by memory alone, I pulled the curtain aside. The white glow from the moon and stars lit up the room. Standing at the vanity I stared in the mirror. My grey skin, the red i
n my eyes, and blue lips were foreign to me. The shape of my face was the same. My hair, though unkempt, was still my own. But while my apartment was familiar, it wasn’t me anymore. Just like my face, it had changed and was no longer my own.

  A faint rustle reached my ears. Not turning my head, I kept staring at myself in the mirror, but reached around with my mind. A human, maybe two, I could hear their heartbeats, the thumps faint through the walls. Whoever they were, they were standing below my bathroom window. Their hearts were racing, galloping and desperate. I suspected the beats were sped by fear but I didn’t think it was me they were afraid of. Searching further I found the source. Zombies. Counting them quickly, I grabbed the machete from my bedside table and rushed out through the French doors.

  In my tiny back yard I found a couple of kids pinned against the wall, trapped by a crowd of undead. A boy, the older of the two, had a pistol and fired into the mass of zombies. A head exploded, showering the others in the group with brains and blood. The shots were incredibly loud, piercing my ears and I knew that this group would soon become many more.

  “Get inside!” I yelled to the kids, not waiting to see if they obeyed me.

  Striding into the group, I ordered them to stop advancing on the kids. My mental scream froze them in place. A few turned to look at me, but that was the last thing they ever saw. I hacked and butchered them into pieces. Limbs fell to the ground and blood sprayed across my face.

  Cutting off heads and slicing into craniums was hard, heavy work, but thanks to my enhanced strength I didn’t grow tired. I remembered that day that seemed so long ago, when killing even one more zombie with my bat was too much to bear. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would still be here today if I had gone a different direction and never met Kelle.

  In minutes they were all dead, but I could feel more coming. Drawn in by the shots, even I couldn’t kill a large herd and I didn’t want to test my mental abilities this way. I needed to get back inside first, then try and command them away.