I sighed. “She found us in North Platte. Then, after we abandoned the city and headed to the mountains, she confessed everything.”
“What did you do to her?” Bill’s voice was low.
“Nothing. There wasn’t time.”
He let out a sigh. I didn’t know if it was a sigh of relief or disappointment.
“It’s not worth it,” I continued. “All the betrayal and murdering, what’s the point in helping others? We need to forget them and focus on ourselves.”
“Not everyone is like that, Krista.” Bill stepped closer to the bars. “There is still good in the world. You can’t fight for what’s right without sacrifice.”
I pushed myself away from the door. “I’m tired of making sacrifices. I don’t want to fight for what’s right. Let them fend for themselves.”
“You don’t mean that, Krista.” Kyle’s voice was soothing. “You’re grieving. Think about what Quinn would want, what he’d do.”
I huffed and headed to my cot. What did they know? They didn’t know how I felt, what I was going through. They didn’t know what I’d given up, the things I’d lost. Or did they?
CHAPTER 15
Quinn, Bill, and Kyle knew about sacrifice. They’d done more for the country, for strangers in North Platte, and for me than anyone I’d ever known. They didn’t have to answer Liet’s initial call. They could’ve stayed on the ranch, living out their lives, ignoring the rest of the world. They weren’t bothered by zombies, so why should they care about a few ingrates who refused to take care of the problem?
Bill was right. Quinn wouldn’t have wanted me to give up. He would’ve wanted me to fight to the end. But he should’ve been standing right next to me, supporting and fighting with me. How was I supposed to do it on my own?
Why couldn’t Liet have shot Pam? Or Tanya for that matter. If anyone deserved to die, it was her. Ungrateful, back-stabbing traitor! But their deaths wouldn’t have upset me as much. Liet didn’t have a personal vendetta against them. He’d wanted to kill Quinn for a long time. I hated that he got his chance. And, technically, if given the chance, he would have shot Pam and Tanya too. He didn’t have time.
Quinn’s death made me think of my parents, but his murder was totally different from theirs. All three of them were unexpected, but at least Quinn wasn’t doing something stupid. We were all in the cave, trying to figure out what it was for, how were we supposed to know Liet used it as a hiding place? I told my parents it was dangerous to go to the military base, but they didn’t listen. They walked into trouble and deserved what they got. Quinn was a victim of circumstance.
The pain from Quinn’s death was intense, but it wasn’t nearly as deep as when my parents were killed. Yes, they deserved it, and yes, it made me angry, but I knew them longer. They raised me, took care of me. They were my parents for crying out loud! Quinn was just a guy I met that I recently started dating. I wanted to get to know him better, I probably could have fallen in love with him, but that time had passed. I’d never get the chance. And I couldn’t change it.
Was I being callous? Uncaring? Maybe. It’s not that I didn’t miss him, I did. I was sad he was killed, but not devastated. It was the way of life in zombie-infested lands. People were killed or turned into the undead. I had to get used to that. The best way to honor his memory was to finish what he started. Save the people of Florida. No matter how much they didn’t deserve it and would probably resent us for it.
I got up from the cot and headed back to the door, placing my hand on the bars. “If you have any ideas of what we could possibly do to get out of here, I’m listening.”
Bill shook his head. “I have no clue.”
I clenched my jaw. “So, you’re just hoping something will happen?”
“Liet had every opportunity to kill you, and he didn’t. Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”
“There has to be a way, Krista,” Kyle interjected. “It can’t end like this.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a door opening. Private Lamb Chop stepped into the hallway and approached my cell.
“Mrs. Johnson would like to see you.”
“They didn’t send you back to the border?” It was more of an observation than a question.
A small smile covered her lips. “General Liet personally requested I stay on as your guard.” A hint of red crept into her cheeks.
My stomach knotted. I should’ve said something to warn her, tell her about his mood swings and multiple personalities, but, again, she wouldn’t have believed me. She would have assumed I was making things up, telling her lies because I was a prisoner, because I had a bad experience with Liet. Best to let her find out on her own.
“Oh, how nice for you.” It was the only response I thought of.
She looked at me sideways. My tone had a bit of cynicism in it. Thank goodness she picked up on it. The door buzzed and slid open. She held out the handcuffs, and I let her snap it around my wrist. She clicked the other side onto her arm.
“You know,” I observed, “it’s awfully trusting of you not to secure my other arm. What if I decide to attack you?”
She scoffed and led me down the hall. “I saw the x-rays. You don’t have the strength. Plus, I’m sure the pain would be unbearable. How is your arm feeling, by the way?”
I raised my eyebrows and stared at her. Was that genuine concern I heard in her voice? She glanced at me. “We’re not all ogres, you know. You are still a human, and I can care about how another human being feels.”
“Yeah, but I’m a prisoner. A bad human.”
“Why? Because you helped the people of North Platte overthrow Liet? It was bound to happen. I know the type of people they were sending out there.”
I cocked my head to the side, staring at her. “And what type of people were they?”
“Free thinkers, activists. The type of people who might question authority.” She shrugged. “Maybe they were good people, maybe they weren’t. It’s not my place to judge.”
We stepped into the sally port where the van waited. I had a hard time believing what I heard. Private Lamb Chop sounded intelligent, she seemed to understand how the system worked, so why was she content with the situation? Didn’t she want more?
I took a seat, and she fastened my seatbelt before climbing into the driver’s seat. I stared at the back of her head. Was she an ally? Could I convince her to fight on our side? She looked at me through the rearview.
“I don’t know what happened in North Platte, so I have no reason to question why you did what you did. All I know is it scared a lot of people down here. The Families especially. Like I said, it was to be expected.”
I grunted and averted my gaze out the window. If I said anything, I could incriminate myself. Maybe that’s what she was trying to do, get me to talk, tell her what happened, then she’d take it to Liet. Well, I didn’t want to play.
The garage door lifted and sun streamed into my window. I squinted at the brightness. The vehicle moved forward. As much as I wanted to believe the private could come to our side, I highly doubted she would. She was a guard, she was afforded more freedom than most. She was the elite, the pampered. More than likely, she was content in her position. Plus, recently, I’d had back luck with people I thought I could trust. You get a little nervous when people try to kill you.
We pulled in front of the high school, and the private hooked me up with the cuffs. We still drew a crowd of onlookers, though this wasn’t as large as the last. I chuckled inwardly.
We rode the elevator to the suite. It was like déjà vu as we stepped out the door and into the hall. The bodyguard opened the door for us, the same smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes. How irritating would it be to do the same thing day after day? He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him.
“Your sarcasm and wit are completely wasted on me. You should really use it on someone who appreciates it.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. It was childish, but I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked
by.
We went to Mrs. Johnson’s living room, where she waited for us on the couch. A cup of coffee was in her hand, a look of disappointment on her face. We sat across from her.
She clicked her tongue and set her mug on the coffee table. “You were such a good girl, Krista. You had a few issues with authority, but you still did your job. You could’ve gone far in Florida.”
I snorted. “Yeah, head housekeeper was exactly what I was striving for.”
“It would have been a better title than traitor.” Her tone was sharp.
The anger threatened to boil out of me. All of my muscles tightened, and my jaw clenched. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from screaming at her. “When did you start caring about what happened in North Platte?”
Mrs. Johnson waved her hand dismissively through the air. “If it affects the people of Florida, it affects me.”
“You mean if it threatens your power, then you’ll do something about it.”
Mrs. Johnson crossed her legs and lifted her mug. She took a sip. Laying her left hand on her lap, she stared into her drink with the other. “I have a commitment, Krista. I have to protect these people. No one else can or will.”
“You don’t think they are capable of taking care of themselves?”
“No,” she said tersely. “They aren’t. Without proper leadership, the world will devolve into anarchy and we’ll be no better than the undead creatures that threw us into these dark times.”
“Human life would find a way. We’re not idiots.”
She set her mug back on the table and folded both her arms in her lap. “You have such faith in your fellow man. Do you know who I was before this?”
I sat silently, waiting for her to reply. I did have faith in my fellow humans, surprisingly. After everything I’d been through, I would have assumed I hated them. Yeah, there were a few bad eggs, there always were, but for the most part, people were good. Even after having several people attempt to kill me, I still believed humanity was worth saving.
“I was the wife of the Secretary of Defense. I was there the day the zombies first rose.”
I listened as she began telling her story.
***
Mrs. Johnson stood next to her husband’s desk, waiting patiently so they could go to lunch. He talked on the phone, frowning.
“Have the reports been confirmed?” He listened to the voice on the other end. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Call an emergency meeting. This needs to be taken care of.” He hung up and buried his face in his hands.
“Everything all right, dear?” Mrs. Johnson’s stomach tightened, her fingers tingled with nervousness.
Mr. Johnson looked up. “Remember those experiments I told you the terrorists were conducting?”
She placed a hand on her chest. “The biological ones?”
He nodded grimly. “It seems they have achieved some results.”
Mrs. Johnson sucked in a sharp breath. It couldn’t be. It was just a scare tactic. They were trying to force the U.S.’s hand. They weren’t actually going to use biological weapons. That would be catastrophic. It was against the rules of war. “Are you sure?”
Mr. Johnson stood and grabbed her hand. “The source is reliable, and they have some video evidence. Come to the meeting with me. See for yourself.”
Mrs. Johnson clicked her tongue. “You know I can’t do that. It’s against policy.”
“I make the policy! I’ve been receiving reports for months now about what these people have been trying to accomplish. It seemed so far-fetched as to be unbelievable. If they’ve really accomplished their goal, the world will never be the same.” He sighed and lowered his voice. “I need you there. Please. No one will even notice you.” He grabbed a yellow legal pad and pen off his desk, thrusting them at her. “Here, take notes for me. You can be my assistant. No one will question you being my assistant.”
Mrs. Johnson had never seen her husband so worried. His face lost color, his eyes were wide. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. How could she deny him?
She grabbed the paper and pen from him. “All right. I’ll go to your meeting.”
The conference room hummed with indistinguishable conversations as everyone speculated in groups about what was going on. All eyes turned to Mr. Johnson as he walked to his chair. Mrs. Johnson took a seat at the back of the room, trying to remain inconspicuous.
Mr. Johnson didn’t sit. He placed his fists on the table and leaned forward. Worry pinched his face, he looked nauseous. “Our greatest fears have come to fruition. The one scenario we never thought could happen has happened. General Scorvid, your report please.”
All eyes focused on the General. The lights in the room clicked off, and the big screen TV sprang to life. “This video just came to us this morning. We still don’t know how they manufactured the virus, or if it even is a virus, but we do know it works.”
The picture shook, focused on a concrete floor, then flipped upward and settled on a row of fluorescent lights. Disembodied voices sounded off camera, speaking in a language Mrs. Johnson couldn’t place.
“ ‘Blue Phoenix test twenty-four,’ ” someone in the room translated. “ ‘After several changes to earlier formulas, we believe we have found the right mixture. Push that button. The one on the side.’ They’re trying to figure the camera out,” the translator explained.
Whoever held the camera righted it, focusing on what appeared to be a dead American soldier. He was dressed in green army fatigues, blood soaked through the tank top on his chest. His blond hair was cut in a spike, his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.
A man in surgical scrubs stepped into the field of view from the right. His face was covered with a mask, sunglasses covered his eyes. He was intent on being completely anonymous. He approached the body. He held a needle up for everyone to see. Dark blue liquid filled the syringe. He jabbed the needle into the soldier’s neck and pumped the fluid in before quickly stepping away from the body.
The camera jostled again, and the sounds of scuffling feet filled the room. Something clanked, and briefly, the links of a chain link fence appeared on the screen. The man with the camera moved so the lens was between the links, giving a clear view of the body.
Minutes passed. Nothing happened. The room sat in stunned silence. In the darkness, Mrs. Johnson saw a few heads turn to their neighbors. She sensed that people wanted to ask what was going on, but no one said a word. A small thud sounded from the TV, and all eyes focused back on the screen.
The soldier’s hand twitched, thumping on the table. Then, the foot moved. More foreign whispers sounded off camera.
“ ‘The serum targets the primal parts of the brain, the ones that control simple motor function and basic survival needs. They don’t actually need food, their other systems don’t work, but the mind thinks they do. They’ll attack others, believing humans are an easy source of nourishment.’ ”
The soldier sat up. The tension in the meeting room grew. The body on the table turned toward the camera. His face was badly burned, half of it charred black, the left eyelid completely missing. It moaned, a low, rumbling sound that could have come from Hell itself. It moved toward the fence, falling face first off the table.
Mrs. Johnson panted. She brought her hand back up to her chest, her heart beat rapidly under her palm. She wanted to turn away, close her eyes from the horror, but she couldn’t, she had to know what happened next.
The soldier got to his feet and slowly limped toward the camera, his hand outstretched, his jaw opened and closed, anticipating a bite. The men behind the fence stepped back as the creature slammed into the metal. It reached for them, unable to navigate the links. Another moan sounded, even more disturbing than the last. Chills ran through Mrs. Johnson’s body.
The voices spoke again.
“ ‘Determination for basic necessity makes the creature unstoppable. It runs purely on instinct. Any shred of human emotion and reasoning has been eradicated. The only way to stop it
is by ceasing the limited functions of the brain.’ ”
The doctor appeared once again on the screen, a large black Desert Eagle in his hand. He raised the barrel to the soldier’s head and pulled the trigger. Even on camera, the bang was deafening. Mrs. Johnson jumped. Blood splattered the lens, and the creature crumpled to the ground. The screen went black.
The lights clicked back on, illuminating the pale faces of the crowd. No one spoke. They barely looked at one another. What had they just seen? Was it real? Did they really witness a dead body being brought back to life? It had to be some sort of trick, a hoax. It had to be.
“We know two things from this video,” Mr. Johnson finally broke the silence, though his voice was barely over a whisper. “We know they have figured out how to bring the dead back to life, and we know how to kill them. A shot to the head seems to take them down.” He finally sat in his seat. “We weren’t meant to get this video. The terrorists were sending it to their Generals, and our ground troops intercepted it. Several brave men and women lost their lives getting this to us. We have the knowledge, now we must do something with it.”
“What?” It was the President. His hand was over his stomach, and he burped. He attempted to keep the vomit down. “We don’t even know what they’re planning on doing.”
“And we shouldn’t give them the chance to do it,” General Scorvid chimed in. “We have to act, and act now. If this thing gets out, it could devastate the country. The world.”
“I can’t authorize any action based on this video. We can’t tell the people of America that our greatest enemies have figured out how to raise the dead. First of all, they wouldn’t believe us. Secondly, the panic it would cause would be monumental.”
“Then send in a covert operation. Take this threat out before it gets out of hand,” General Scorvid said.
The President sat silently, staring at the desk and contemplating. He looked up, his mouth pressed in a tight line. “Do what you have to. But keep it quiet. No one finds out how this started.”
Life After The Undead Omnibus Page 38