Life After The Undead Omnibus

by Pembroke Sinclair

  We reached the top of the stairs, and I hesitated at the door. My bladder felt incredibly full, my stomach tingled. Last chance. We could turn around now and run away, never looking back. I glanced at Quinn. Maybe he thought the same thing. He had his rifle pointing at the door. He nodded, indicating I should go forward. Switching my gun from my good hand to the one in the sling, I reached for the handle. Just as I was about to grab it, it cracked open.

  “I’ll head back any time I want to,” the voice on the other side said.

  Dang it! It was Liet. I pressed myself against the wall, hoping to become invisible.

  “And if I find her along the way, I’m not bringing her back here. I’ll take care of it in my own way.”

  The door opened further. Liet stepped onto the stairwell, mumbling under his breath. He hadn’t seen us, we were obscured by the door. Quinn waited until the door was almost closed and Liet had descended a couple of stairs before attacking. Swinging the butt of his rifle, the end connected with the back of Liet’s head. He grunted and fell forward, rolling down four or five stairs before slamming into the concrete landing. He was dazed but not unconscious. Quinn hurried toward him. Liet’s eyes grew wide, his lip curled into a snarl.

  “You!” he hissed. “Why don’t you teens ever die?” He moved to get into an attacking position, but Quinn was there faster, driving his boot into Liet’s stomach.

  He doubled over in pain, the air flowing out of him in with a sssss sound. Liet reached for Quinn’s pants, but Quinn stepped back, just out of reach, and slammed the rifle butt into his head again. Liet’s eyes rolled in his head, but he still didn’t lose consciousness. He was hurt, though. It was obvious. He grabbed for Quinn again, but his hand flailed in the air, to the right of where Quinn actually stood. He couldn’t see straight.

  I wasn’t sure where I should be. I wanted to be next to Quinn, the blade of my arm sword at Liet’s neck, but what if someone heard him and came through the door? Who would watch our backs? I moved so I blocked the door. Someone could still get through, but I would slow them down. Quinn kicked Liet in the stomach again. As he curled into the fetal position, Quinn took off his belt in one swift motion. He rolled Liet onto his stomach with another kick. Placing his knee between Liet’s shoulder blades, Quinn pulled Liet’s arms behind him. Liet bucked and struggled.

  “You’re always in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Quinn commented. He tightened his belt.

  Liet flinched. “You’re just lucky. If you fought me in a fair fight, you’d go down.”

  Quinn chuckled. “You mean like Krista did? From what I hear, that was a fair fight, and a girl kicked your butt.” He dug his knee deeper into Liet’s spine and brought his mouth down to his ear. “And you will pay for shooting me.”

  Liet attempted to chuckle, but it came out more like a grunty wheeze.

  Quinn smacked him in the back of the head. He stood from Liet’s back and grabbed the belt around his wrist. “Get up.”

  Liet didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t want his shoulders pulled out of their sockets, he had to get to his feet. He stared at me. His eyes burned with hatred. Blood dripped down the side of his head where Quinn hit him, and he had a hard time catching his breath. I smiled.

  “This is an awfully familiar scene,” I commented.

  He narrowed his eyes. I’m sure he wished he could shoot lasers out of them.

  “Krista, on my mark, I want you to open the door.”

  I nodded.

  Quinn forced Liet up the stairs. Liet tried to fight, but every time he got out of hand, Quinn lifted his arms up. Plus, the rifle was at the back of his head. Liet knew better than to tempt Quinn. They made it to the top of the stairs, just a few feet from the door, and Quinn nodded. I pulled the door open, and Quinn pushed Liet through. I could barely see over their shoulders, but five soldiers stood in the hallway, along with the bodyguard. What did Pearl say his name was? Mark? Mitch? It didn’t matter.

  “What’s going on here?” His hands were out to his sides, palms down. He was signaling the soldiers to keep their weapons lowered.

  “Drop your weapons. All of you!” Quinn barked.

  “Or what?” The bodyguard’s tone was calm, almost amused. “You think Liet is a bargaining chip? You think we won’t shoot him to take you out?”

  I knew they would. Liet was expendable, just like the rest of us. In North Platte, he had power because no one else wanted it. In Florida, he was just a General who lost his army. Besides, the bodyguard killed innocent people without batting an eye. He’d gladly take out an ex-con.

  Without thinking, I pushed Quinn and Liet out of the way. I raised my gun and lined up the sights. The bang echoed through the staircase. The bodyguard jerked backward but didn’t go down. Shock covered his face. He stared at me, mouth agape, then slowly focused his gaze on his shoulder. Blood oozed through his shirt, his arm went limp. Color drained out of his face, and he staggered a bit.

  “You might not see Liet as a bargaining tool, but what about your own life?” My voice was even, calm. It scared me a little.

  The soldiers glanced nervously at the bodyguard and Liet. They could’ve taken us down, they could’ve swarmed us, but not without me taking out three of them first. Quinn could probably take out the others. Of course, I based that on my ability to take out zombies. I wasn’t completely sure how I would do against an opponent who shot back. Still, could they risk it? Should they? I sensed the questions running through their minds. Muted crashes and screams came from the other room.

  Something was going on with Mrs. Johnson. It threw even more confusion into the mix.

  “Drop ‘em!” Quinn ordered again. He lifted Liet’s arms up, causing a groan of pain to leave his mouth. “Now!”

  They did as they were told. The bodyguard stood with mouth open. He looked back at me.

  “Don’t listen to them,” he croaked. “Shoot them.”

  Another scream sounded from the next room. My stomach fluttered. We had to get in there. Our whole takeover depended on using Mrs. Johnson as a bargaining tool. If something happened to her, we were out of luck. Who was in there? What was going on?

  The bodyguard stared at the door.

  “What are you gonna do?” I wondered. “She’s counting on you to save her.” I fired my gun again, this time into the ceiling right above his head. He flinched as bits of ceiling fell onto him. “Into the room, slowly.”

  The soldiers held up their hands and backed in. We followed behind them.

  Mrs. Johnson was on the couch. A soldier stood behind her, a gun pressed to her temple. Crap! How could we talk our way out of this? Quinn pushed Liet onto the floor and held him down with the heel of his boot. The soldiers gathered in a corner of the room. I moved so I had Mrs. Johnson and the prisoners in my line of sight.

  “I thought that was you out there,” a female said.

  I glanced at the soldier behind Mrs. Johnson and almost burst out laughing.

  “Abby, right?”

  She nodded.

  Thank goodness she was on our side. I knew there was something about her the first time I met her. Of course, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I’d been disappointed before.

  “Krista, watch Mrs. Johnson. I need to get something to tie these guys up.”

  I took her place behind the couch. She moved to the curtains and pulled out the ties. She motioned toward Quinn.

  “Can you help me with this?”

  He dug his heel deeper into Liet’s back, a warning that if he should decide to move, he would pay for it, before walking across the room to help Abby. Mrs. Johnson looked at me. Her mascara ran down her face, her hair stuck up in all directions. She was dressed, but part of her shirt was untucked, the rest was wrinkled. She looked anything but stately.

  The two finished immobilizing the soldiers, then moved to the bodyguard. He growled and swatted at them, but he was too weak. He lost a lot of blood. It pooled on the carpet below him, his face was white and dotted in sweat. Dark
circles formed under his eyes. He swayed, like he would fall over any moment.

  “Staunch the bleeding.” Abby grabbed a pillow off the couch and ripped of the cover. She tossed it to Quinn.

  He folded it and wrapped it around the man’s shoulder. Using a cord, he secured the case in place. The bodyguard flinched, a small grunt of pain escaped his mouth. Quinn tightened the makeshift bandage with a cord from the blinds. When he finished, he tied the bodyguard’s hands to his waist.

  I would have felt sorry for the guy, should have. I knew exactly how he felt. The agony of being shot in the shoulder. But he planted zombies in the back of the truck, killed innocent people, and blamed it on us. In a way, it was justice. Actually, no. Justice would have been him being torn limb from limb by the zombie horde. It was still a possibility, but we’d have to keep him alive long enough. I doubted it was worth the risk.

  When everyone was secure, Abby focused her attention back on me.

  “You have the number?”

  “Yeah. In my sling.” I didn’t want to risk taking the gun away from Mrs. Johnson. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like she could hurt me. Still, we didn’t get as far as we did by taking chances.

  Abby approached and dug around my arm. She found the card and headed for the phone. She dialed the number carefully and waited for a moment. “Abby here. Johnsons’ Town occupied.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. It was about time luck came back to me, and I was happy fate favored the righteous.

  CHAPTER 21

  I relaxed slightly as Abby hung up the phone. The hard part was over. All we had to do was wait. As soon as we had control over the other Families, it was only a matter of time before they lost their power.

  “Do you really think you’re going to get away with this?” Mrs. Johnson growled.

  I chuckled. “Uh, I think we already have.”

  She scoffed. “I haven’t given in to your demands. Neither has anyone else. There are still soldiers out there who will fight to the death. You and your friends won’t get out of this alive.”

  “Really?” Abby snorted. “You truly believe that? How long do you think those soldiers are going to hold out without power? Or the people? You’ll have a full-fledged riot on your hands by the end of the night. You’ll give in to our demands.” She moved across the room and secured the doors, wrapping cords around the handles and placing chairs to block them. No one was getting in or out.

  “What should we do with him?” Quinn pointed at the bodyguard. He leaned against another soldier, his head lolled backward. He was going to pass out.

  “He needs a doctor.” Mrs. Johnson’s voice was laced with concern. “He’s going to die.”

  “Sounds like justice to me.”

  Her head jerked around to look at me. Anger pinched her face.

  I shrugged and turned away. Like her judgment affected me.

  “We should get him some help,” Abby agreed. “I’ll call a doctor.” She walked back toward the phone.

  Quinn walked up to the bodyguard and helped him sit up. Keeping him conscious was the most important thing to do. I laid my gun hand on the back of the couch, sighing loudly. I wanted them to hear my disdain, my disregard for what they were doing, but they ignored me. I rolled my eyes. Whatever. They could do what they want.

  Something slammed into my back and I went down, my face smooshed into the carpet. My shoulder crackled, then went ablaze with pain. I couldn’t catch my breath. Someone grabbed my good arm and flipped me onto my back. They sat on my chest. I blinked and looked into Liet’s face. It was red from neck to hairline, rage flashed through his eyes.

  “We could have been a family!” he screamed before slamming his hand down onto the side of my head. Stars danced in front of my eyes. It felt like my skull was being split open. “I’m the only one who can take care of you!”

  Whack! Another blow to the head. My vision went black. I struggled against him, trying to get a hand free, but he had me pinned with his knees. I wanted to flip out my arm sword, but it was crushed into the carpet.

  “If you won’t be mine, you won’t be anyone’s.”

  Rough hands laced around my neck, applying pressure. I gagged and attempted to suck in air. Where was Quinn? Abby? Why wasn’t anyone helping me? I wiggled beneath him, trying with all my might to get away. My muscles were slow to respond, lack of oxygen made them sluggish. I thought of my parents. My thoughts drifted to the night we spent in the attic. I remembered my mom’s arms around me. Then, I thought about how I slept between the two. The images drifted to the horseback-riding trip we took to Yellowstone. I smelled the pine trees and felt the cool breeze in my hair. In the next scene, I was in Disney World, laughing as my parents and I ran to the next ride. We all wore mouse ears, we panted in the heat. After that, the picture went black. I lost the ability to move. Air wasn’t moving through my lungs. I was going to die.

  Suddenly, the pressure left my neck, and oxygen flooded into my lungs. I gasped and coughed as my body attempted to take in the air. My vision was still blurry, but I could see Liet on the floor next to me, someone on top of him. It was Quinn. Finally. What took him so long? I pulled myself into a sitting position and took a moment to let my body recuperate. I needed to help Quinn. I needed to take out Liet, but I didn’t have the strength. I couldn’t stand.

  The pair rolled across the floor, exchanging punches to any part of the body they could hit. Grunts and swears filled the air. My vision cleared further. Liet rolled Quinn onto his back, his hands wrapped around Quinn’s neck. Quinn gasped. He punched Liet in the head a few times, each one weaker than the last. I tried to get to my feet. My legs shook and gave out. I crawled toward them.

  I pushed the button of the arm sword, attempting to flip out the blade, but I didn’t have enough strength. My thumb slipped off the button. Quinn’s eyes bulged, a squeak escaped from his lips. I grabbed the back of Liet’s shirt, pulling with all my might, which wasn’t much. I barely made the fabric move. He jerked his shoulder, easily flinging me off.

  “This is all your fault!” He screamed into Quinn’s face. “If you had just stayed away, none of this would have happened!”

  I went forward again, feeling a little more strength surge through my body. I grabbed his collar and twisted the fabric between my fingers. Where was Abby? I could really use some help. I pulled. Liet was taken off balance, his grip on Quinn’s neck loosened. He turned his gaze on me. He lifted his left arm and tried to fling me off. Normally, he would have been successful, but I had enough of his shirt twisted around my hand, I wasn’t going anywhere without him. It gave Quinn enough time to wiggle out from underneath him. Quinn punched Liet in the eye.

  Liet fell backward, and I went with him. He focused his wrath back on me, climbed on top of my chest, and attempted to get his hands back around my neck. I tried to fight him off with my left hand, but it wouldn’t move. I couldn’t even lift it through the pain, it had gone completely limp. I worked on untwisting my fingers. If I could get my arm free, I could flip out my blade. Quinn approached from behind and grabbed Liet’s arm, landing another punch onto his right ear. Liet flinched and swatted at Quinn, catching him on the side of the jaw. Quinn stumbled backward.

  My fingers went numb. If Liet would just stay still for a second, I could get loose. He noticed something over me, I watched his gaze travel across the floor. He moved to get it, and my hand popped free. I took the advantage and pressed the button. That time, I had enough strength. The blade clicked out. I turned to where Liet headed. It was my gun. I grabbed his ankle. He kicked me in the side. My ribs rattled, my breath was knocked out of me. Quinn shook his head across from me, trying to clear his vision. He grabbed Liet’s waist.

  Liet spun around, driving his knee into Quinn’s chin. Quinn’s head flipped back, his eyes rolled in their sockets, and he fell backward. I positioned my blade and sliced Liet’s calf. His scream echoed through the room. He spun toward me, his hands extended like he was going to wrap them around my neck aga
in. I scooted away from him, but with only one arm, I didn’t get far. He lunged, and I swung the blade through the air. Something warm and sticky hit my face. I closed my eyes and dodged to the right. A thud sounded next to me. Cautiously, I opened my eyes and looked.

  Liet reached for me, his hand stained with blood. His left hand was at his neck, attempting to cover the gash that oozed dark red liquid. “I’ll kill you,” he gurgled. Blood stained his teeth.

  He made one more attempt to lunge for me, then fell limp. Blood pooled around him. He took one last breath, it made a sound like a straw makes when it sucks the last bit of liquid out of a glass. I held my breath for a moment, staring at him, waiting for him to leap at me.

  A yell sounded across the room. I jerked my head in the direction, just in time to see the bodyguard baring down on me. His hands were still pinned to his sides, his face was still pale, but determination burned through his eyes. Again, I tried to scoot away, but couldn’t move. He lifted his foot, ready to smash it down on my arm, when a hand grabbed his other leg and pulled him off balance.

  He fell with a thud. Quinn climbed onto his chest and smashed his fish into the side of the man’s head. It bobbled for a moment before he fell unconscious. Quinn held his fist up, ready to strike again should the bodyguard move. Moments passed. Nothing.

  I glanced up. Mrs. Johnson stood next to the table with the phone, a lamp in her hand, a look of horror on her face. Abby lay crumpled at her feet. The soldiers were still tied up, staring at us wide eyed. I didn’t think any of them were going to be a problem. If I just saw someone in a sling kill a healthy male, I would have second thoughts about attacking too. Quinn stood and walked toward Mrs. Johnson. He jerked the lamp out of her hand and motioned toward the couch. She quickly took a seat. Abby moaned and rolled over, her hand on her head.