Life After The Undead Omnibus

by Pembroke Sinclair

  “I see Liet got his justice,” the bodyguard commented as he opened the door.

  “Maybe. But I’m still alive.”

  The man chuckled. “Probably not for long.”

  I shrugged. “Until then.”

  We stepped into the suite. As I suspected, Mrs. Johnson rose from the couch to greet us.

  “General Liet! It is such a pleasure to see you alive.” She held out her hands to him but stopped short, delicately covering her nose with her fingertips.

  “Sorry,” Liet apologized. “It’s been a while since I’ve had running water.”

  She waved her hand through the air. “I understand. Perhaps we should postpone this meeting until you’ve had a chance to freshen up.”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, I’d like to have a decision made about Krista now.”

  Mrs. Johnson stared at me, hard, her lips pressed into a thin line. “She could stand a shower, too. And a doctor should look her over.”

  Liet stared from her to me and back again. “You can’t be serious! She doesn’t deserve special treatment!”

  Mrs. Johnson folded her arms across her chest. “Do you want to risk making her a martyr? We have a delicate balance of power and sympathy down here, General. There are those who could use her mistreatment to their advantage. I will not give them fuel for their fire. If you don’t like my method, you should have taken care of her yourself when you had the chance.”

  Liet scowled, his face turned red. “I still have that option.”

  She huffed. “I dare you to try it. She’s in our possession now.”

  Liet leaned forward. “What are you going to do? You still need someone on the outside, someone who knows where the others are.”

  Mrs. Johnson pursed her lips. “Assuming we’re going to waste our time looking for the other survivors. They’re gone. What do we have to worry about?”

  “They hid next to a cave, an old Army base. There are crates of guns in there. You really want to risk them coming down here?”

  She waved her hand through the air. “We can take care of them, we outnumber them. There’s no way they’ll come down here.”

  “You don’t know. They might.”

  “Liet.” Mrs. Johnson had an edge to her voice. “We can take care of ourselves down here. We’ve been doing it for years. I’m not discounting what you’ve done for us, but you have no say in the day-to-day activities of Florida. That is The Families’ job.”

  Liet scowled. “You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. You would have been overthrown years ago. I took care of your problems.”

  Mrs. Johnson clicked her tongue. “Yes. We all know how well that worked out.”

  Liet’s face took on a purple hue. “I could have left them here. Then, where would your delicate balance of sympathy and power be? In your own uprising? Dealing with your own rebels? Be thankful there are just a handful of them you have to deal with, and they’re kids.”

  “I’m well aware of what could have happened were you not willing to take the rabble to North Platte. But you must realize, you’re no longer in North Platte, you’re in my town. Different rules govern down here, and you are expected to follow them just like everyone else.”

  Liet opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Seeing the two of them fight like children was the best show I’d seen in weeks. It was better than a soap opera. Both Mrs. Johnson and Liet glared at me in anger. It was never a good idea to show weakness in front of your enemy, and that’s exactly what they did. There was a power struggle between the two, one that could easily be exploited. Liet scared Mrs. Johnson, I saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t want him to know. Like he didn’t already. He couldn’t do anything, though. Mrs. Johnson had bodyguards and soldiers to back her up if Liet tried to harm her, so he had to be on his best behavior, much to his distaste. If given enough time, those two would probably destroy each other. Too bad we didn’t have more time, it would have been an entertaining show.

  She signaled to her bodyguard. “Take her to the hospital.”

  Reluctantly, Liet undid his side of the handcuff and slapped it onto the other man’s wrist. I glanced at Liet over my shoulder and pushed out my bottom lip.

  “Should’ve shot me after taking care of Quinn.”

  He pointed at me. “There’s still a chance I can take care of you.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Sure there is.”

  The bodyguard jerked on my wrist. I turned to head out the door and ran into Pearl.

  “Krista?” she squeaked. “What’s going on?” Tears moistened her eyes.

  The man pulled me into the elevator.

  “Don’t worry, Pearl. Everything is going to be all right.”

  The door slid shut as a tear dropped onto her cheek. I knew she didn’t believe me, but what else could I say? I knew it wasn’t going to be all right, but I was fine with my fate. I welcomed it.

  CHAPTER 14

  The best part about being a prisoner of The Families was I didn’t have to wait to be seen by a doctor. We walked into the hospital and went straight to x-ray.

  “I’ll need you to remove the sling and your shirt,” the nurse said matter-of-factly.

  I stared at the bodyguard and held up my wrist. “You gonna help me out here?”

  He scowled and unlocked my side before folding his arms across his chest. I lifted the sling strap over my head.

  “You gonna watch me undress too?”

  He clicked his tongue and walked to the door.

  Luckily, Private Lamb Chop came with us. She stepped into the room and took over babysitting duties.

  It took less than ten minutes to have x-rays done, and then I was placed in an examination room to wait for the doctor. The bodyguard reattached our wrists and stood next to me, scowling. He glanced at his watch several times and sighed.

  “Must be such a waste of your time,” I told him. “I’m sure you would rather be killing innocent people.”

  “What?”

  In my opinion, there should have been more shock in his voice, but he actually sounded more bored than anything.

  “I know about the zombies,” I whispered. “The ones you planted in the supply truck after your visit to North Platte.”

  He smiled and leaned forward, matching his volume with mine. “Good luck proving that.”

  The door opened and the doctor stepped in. He placed my x-ray on the light board.

  “Things look pretty good. Some of your screws shifted, which might cause slight deformation when the bone heals completely, but it won’t hinder your shoulder function.” He stepped to me and lifted my shirt. “No sign of infection. That’s good. But these stitches are way over due for removal.” He stepped in front of me. “I’ll get you some pain pills and send in the nurse. You’ll have to wear your sling for six weeks, and try to refrain from physical activity. Anything else you need me to look at? Maybe this nasty lump on the side of your head?”

  “The lump’s fine. It’ll heal faster than my shoulder. But I seem to have a strange growth on my wrist.” I held up the handcuffs. “I think it might be cancerous.”

  The doctor wasn’t amused. He nodded curtly before leaving the room. The nurse came in a few minutes later to remove my stitches.

  The ride to the jail was uncomfortable. My skin was prickly and itchy from the threads being pulled out. Plus, I was tired. I may have slept a lot in the Hummer, but it was far from restful. I looked forward to a shower and a real bed. I also looked forward to leaving my present company. They bored me. I wanted to be alone.

  Private Lamb Chop took me directly to the showers. She undid the handcuffs and cut off the twine around my ankles. The bodyguard rubbed his wrist and scowled at me.

  “Let me know if she gives you any trouble,” he told the private before leaving the room.

  With some difficulty, I stripped out of my clothes. She handed me a mini shampoo and tiny bar of soap.

  “I’ll get you a t
owel and change of clothes.”

  “This isn’t enough,” I told her. “I need at least two more.”

  She scowled as she examined me. I could only imagine what ran through her mind. I knew I was dirty. I spent four days in a truck. Before that, we camped in the woods and traipsed through caves. Fresh water wasn’t a luxury to be used for bathing. Eventually, she slapped more toiletries into my hand.

  I stepped into the concrete shower. The smell of mildew drifted in the air, and a shower dripped at the far end with a plink-plink sound. The floor was slick under my feet. The water turned on with a squeak of the handle. The warmth felt like heaven on my skin, and a layer of dirt washed down the drain.

  My mind drifted to Quinn. I fought back the tears forming in my eyes. How could this have happened? How could we have been so stupid to walk into a trap?

  No, stop it. We didn’t know Liet was in that cave. How could we? It was circumstance, that’s it. Still, there had to have been something I could’ve done. Maybe fought harder, pushed against Liet sooner. My vision became blurry with tears, and my chest tightened to the point it was difficult to breathe. My knees became weak and threatened to give out. It would have been so easy to give in to my grief. I could have lost it right there. But I knew I was being watched. I couldn’t let them know how much Quinn’s death affected me. I couldn’t let them win.

  If only we’d taken care of Liet when we had the chance. I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn’t worry about it, I shouldn’t. I couldn’t change it. I did my best. Still, it didn’t make me feel better. I held my emotions until I was physically exhausted.

  I could barely keep my eyes open when I stepped out and grabbed the towel from the private. I put on my bright orange shirt and pants, along with my sling, and followed her to my cell.

  “You’re being kept in holding cells,” she explained, “away from the general population. They’re afraid you might incite a riot. But don’t worry, you won’t be alone.”

  I found it odd she felt the need to explain to me about my accommodations. What was the big deal? They could put me anywhere they wanted. I wasn’t going to talk to anyone, I was going to sleep. I didn’t care about liberating Florida anymore. There wasn’t anything left to fight for.

  Private Lamb Chop stopped in front of a cell, and the door slid open with a buzz and clang of metal.

  “Krista?” The voice sounded behind me.

  I turned. Bill stood from his bed and approached the bars, his eyes wide.

  “Krista!” His brother was in the cell next to him. He had a little more enthusiasm in his voice. He also approached the door.

  Great, just what I needed. No doubt they thought I was there to save them. How could I tell them all hope was lost? How could I tell them they sacrificed themselves for nothing? I felt ashamed and helpless, like a failure. It was one thing to deal with the pain internally. When it was just Liet and I, I could forget about the others, withdraw inside my own mind, pretend no one else existed. I couldn’t ignore or forget the boys when they were right in front of me. I couldn’t pretend I was the only one the events affected. I averted my gaze to the floor and stepped into my cell with head hanging low. I flopped onto the cot and placed my forehead against the wall. They whispered across the hall.

  “What’s going on? Why didn’t she talk to us?” I couldn’t tell which brother it was.

  “She’s tired. It’s been a long journey. Let her rest. I’m sure she’ll talk to us when she gets up.”

  Oh, I was sure I’d have to talk to them. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and trying to avoid them would raise suspicion. But what exactly was I going to tell them? It became painfully apparent that I was going to have to tell the guys Quinn was dead. Could I say those words out loud? They’d want to know the story. Would they blame me? I pushed the thoughts out of my head. I’d deal with it when I had to. I needed rest. I settled into the pillow and closed my eyes.

  ***

  Quinn and I stood on the roof of the jail in Casper. Black clouds covered the sky, with hints of red on the horizon. The wind blew, drowning out all sound and making it difficult to stand upright. Quinn told me something, I watched his mouth move, but couldn’t hear him.

  “What?” I barely heard my own voice.

  A strong gust pushed against my chest, my feet slid across the gravel rooftop. Instinctively, I reached for Quinn. Another rush of air pushed me farther back. Quinn grabbed my hand, but we didn’t stop. The momentum took us to the edge of the roof.

  The backs of my legs hit the short wall that surrounded the top of the building. My back arched, my arms flailed. I glanced over my shoulder. A sea of zombies reached for me. Millions of them, undulating like waves. The wind subsided, and I regained my balance. I turned to look at Quinn. He was no longer in front of me, no longer had a hold of my wrist. He teetered on the edge of the building, leaning precariously over the side. I reached for him. Too late. He fell. His body hit the creatures. He reached for me before slowly sinking beneath the rotted hands and snapping teeth. I screamed, but my voice was lost on the wind.

  Another gust slammed into my back, pushing me over the edge. The creatures rushed toward me. I closed my eyes and brought up my hands to brace for impact.

  I sucked in a sharp breath and jerked awake. Tentacles of pain snaked through my entire body. I groaned.

  “Krista?” The voice drifted across the hall. Which brother was that? “You all right?”

  Maybe if I didn’t answer, he’d think I was still asleep. I closed my eyes. The sea of zombies waited in my mind’s eye. Maybe I’d take my chances with Bill and Kyle. I moved to the edge of the bed.

  “Yeah,” I croaked. “I’m okay.”

  I moved to the sink in the corner of the room and turned on the faucet. A trickle of water came out. I frowned. I peed more than that. I shrugged and splashed my face several times before heading to the door, wiping the wetness on my sleeve.

  Kyle’s elbows rested on the cross bars, his hands folded in the hallway. He acted totally nonchalant. Bill had his hands on his hips, his eyebrows pushed together. They wore the same orange outfit as I, and their faces were a little pale from not being in the sun. Otherwise, they looked fine. They might have even put on a little weight. It was amazing what non-canned food could do.

  “What happened to your arm?” Bill wondered.

  I glanced at the sling, like I noticed it for the first time. “Liet shot me. Broke my shoulder blade.”

  “Are you all right?” Kyle sounded concerned.

  It was one of those stupid questions to ask. Of course I wasn’t all right! I’d been shot, my shoulder was broken, I had limited mobility in my arm. Plus, after seeing the doctor in Florida, I apparently was going to be deformed. Stupid as the question was, it was socially polite to ask. I contemplated giving him a sarcastic response, I was still tired and grumpy, but thought better of it. No need to take my frustrations out on him, he was just being nice.

  “I’ll survive this,” I responded.

  Bill stepped forward and grabbed the bars. “So what’s the plan? Is the rest of the posse on their way?”

  “Yeah,” Kyle chimed in. “How are we gonna get out of here?”

  A lump developed in my throat. “We’re not.”

  Bill’s brow furrowed deeper. “What do you mean? Why are you here then?”

  I took a deep, shaky breath. “Liet captured me and brought me here to pay for my crimes.”

  They stared at me, waiting for an explanation. I told them everything that happened after we split up in Wyoming. They listened intently, the worry and concern deepening the wrinkles on their foreheads.

  “Liet surprised us in the cave. He grabbed me and uh…he, um…” The words stuck in my throat. “He shot Quinn.” That phrase was physically painful to say.

  The brothers stared at me in disbelief. My breathing came in rasps. Every inch of my body ached from Quinn’s loss. I wanted to curl into the fetal position and ball up so tightly I would disappear.

 
; “Was he dead?” Kyle’s voice was soft. Another one of those questions.

  I nodded. “There was blood everywhere, and he wasn’t moving.”

  Kyle bit his lip and lowered his head.

  “What about the others?” Bill’s tone was serious, unemotional. “They still coming for us?”

  I stared at him. Had he heard anything I just said? “Why would they come after us? It’s over. There’s nothing left to fight for.”

  Bill huffed. “It’s not over. We still have a job. People to liberate.”

  I took a shaky breath, the sadness once again hardened into anger. “These people don’t want to be saved. They’re happy living like sheep. We’ve already given so much, and what have they done in return?”

  “They’re not happy, Krista. They’re brainwashed and scared. We’re the only ones who can do anything.”

  “How?” My voice was on the edge of yelling. “Quinn’s dead and we’re in jail. More than likely, they’re going to execute us. And what do I care if these people are happy or not? Do I look like a fairy godmother?”

  “C’mon, Krista. There’s always a way. Figure something out.”

  I leaned my head against the bars. “What’s the point?”

  “Because Quinn would have wanted it that way.”

  I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth in irritation. “Quinn doesn’t have to worry about it now. And neither should we.”

  Kyle shook his head. “C’mon, Krista. Don’t talk like that. The world isn’t that bleak.”

  I scoffed. “Isn’t that bleak? Have the weeks in here made you forget?” I pressed my face through the bars. “It’s not only the zombies who want to kill you out there.” I pointed at the door. “It’s the humans too.”

  “We know,” Bill said flatly. “Tanya’s the one who put us in here.”

  I dropped my hand to my side. “I know. She told me.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “You talked to Tanya?”