Possession of the Dead: A Zombie Thriller (Undead World Trilogy, Book Two)

by A. P. Fuchs

  Joe coughed, figuring, like Tracy, he’d get used to the smell and thick air with time. Depending, the people who survived in this universe might be inherently immune to even the disease floating on the air. And, even, maybe he was immune, too, whatever spared him in his world having fought off the disease as well. There really was no way to know. At least, not yet. Not until people started to die from infection without being bit, or, worse, started to transform without having been bitten.

  Joe’s insides went hollow. A low groan came from around the corner. Then another. He took a few steps back, X-09 trained on the building’s edge, ready for anything that might come around. He was about to open fire when he thought he saw a decayed hand emerge from the building’s corner the same time moans rose up behind him as well.

  * * * *

  Billie coughed, startled, when the door squeaked open and May entered, appearing oddly too beautiful for morning. It seemed the woman had been up for at least an hour prior, took a shower and carefully applied the right makeup to mask her true morning appearance. Had this been the old world, Billie would have asked for her secret.

  “What do you want?” Billie asked.

  May moved closer, her black pants looking a little too comfortable and a little too fancy to wear in this bunker. Same with her black blouse with three-quarter sleeves.

  “Del suggested just us girls get together before the day starts and talk things over.”

  As if, Billie thought, though it was a good move on Del’s part. Women related to women better than men, usually. “Just some girl talk, huh?”

  “Yes. Just some girl talk.”

  Billie didn’t like the way May slinkily made her way over and sat down on the bed beside her. Billie slid over a bit to give herself more room, not caring if she offended.

  “It’s okay, don’t be shy,” May said, her eyes wide, lips pouty.

  Oh please, Billie thought. “Look, whatever you have to say to me, get it done now. I’m not playing anymore.”

  May’s expression changed, that cold, hard edge returning. “You will. Remember that old man down the hall?”

  Down the hall, huh? Nice. You let that one slip pretty good. Maybe May wasn’t as bright as she pretended to be. Perhaps without Del nearby making sure each word she said was what he wanted, Billie could use that to her advantage and pry loose a few answers.

  She slowly slid closer to May, hoping to change the atmosphere and lower the woman’s guard. “Though I know you and Del are concerned for your safety along with whoever else is part of your group—believe me, I get that—why are you pressing us so hard?”

  “Oh, I think you know,” May said, not seeming to play along with her.

  Billie scootched a little closer. “Not really. I mean, Del has said some things, sure, so he’s obviously a smart guy and has insight into stuff I probably don’t. I just see what I see, you know?”

  “He knows more than you realize,” she said.

  Her words sent a jolt through Billie’s core. “Are you his friend, or just a, um, co-worker?”

  “We don’t have friends. You should know that. There’s no time for friends in a world like this.”

  “There’s always room for friends, especially in a world like this.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Billie’s heart rate picked up as she went to move in the final couple inches closer to May. She didn’t know one hundred percent where she was going with her actions, but if somehow acting this way would grant her and August some leeway or even a way out, she would do whatever it took.

  May put a hand on hers and looked her over with tender eyes, obviously taking note of Billie’s advance. “What do you want, Billie?”

  “I just don’t think you’re as bad as you let on.”

  May smiled. “Thank you, but I don’t think you realize just how bad I truly am.”

  “I think you just listen to Del because you feel that you have to.”

  “Believe me, I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “Your level of comprehension” —Billie raised an eyebrow— “What I mean is, you’re too young to understand.”

  “I’ve seen a lot.”

  “So have I.”

  May drew in closer.

  Billie’s heart was in her throat. She didn’t know what would happen next, if she should close her eyes and brace for a kiss, or wait and see what May would do.

  May’s face grew tender, almost childlike as if apologizing. “You’re right, Billie. You have seen a lot. More than most girls your age have. Actually, I know you’ve seen more. It’s written all over you.” Her words were soft, gentle. Her face was less than an inch from Billie’s.

  Billie closed her eyes. “Tell me.” She moved in closer, so much so their lips were almost touching.

  “After,” May said.

  Billie’s eyes shot open. No breath had escaped from May’s lips when she spoke.

  It was too late. May had changed and her undead face moved in for the kill, mouth wide, yellow teeth sharp.

  * * * *

  Joe immediately got low to avoid grabbing arms and clawing fingers. He aimed up and to the right, fired, and punched a hole through the skull of an undead cheerleader with a white sweater and the number 41 displayed big and proud in red letters across her chest and stomach. The cheerleader’s body dropped to the ground.

  Behind her stood a tall white guy in a red basketball uniform, the number 30 in white letters across his front. His short brown hair looked torn out in places, a portion of the side of his skull missing revealing the shriveled gray of rotted brain. Joe checked to the left. The other undead were getting close. There was no room to stand and run so he did two somersaults forward, stood, shook off the dizziness and took out the basketball player with a shot to the guy’s nose. Blood sprayed out on the wall behind him when the bullet blasted through.

  A stream of undead kept coming from around the building, at first two then four then a jump to seven.

  Joe made quick business of the first four, ran across the street, and faced them with his back against the old building across the way. He popped out the clip, loaded it with fresh bullets from a pouch on his belt, then snapped the clip back into the X-09.

  It was like he never left home. The giants, Tracy, Billie’s and August’s absence—all that faded. It was just him and the undead and the memory of April just like always.

  Two of the undead making their way across the street wore black bandanas dotted with a handful of dirty white stars. They didn’t seem they were all that old when they died, maybe around sixteen or seventeen. Joe pegged them both off; one got a bullet through its head just above its eye; the other got one in the middle of its head, the bullet having ripped off the top of its skull. Brain and blood oozed out of the skull, dripping over the zombie’s face. The two undead fell.

  More came, hands outstretched, clawing at the air before them, sometimes their fingers clawing at the others’.

  A group of four zombies came forward: two elderly ladies, one young man and one child, a boy. It was the children that got to Joe the worst. Barely begun in life and here they were already walking corpses about to die a grisly death.

  Make quick work of it, he told himself and sent a bullet into the kid. The boy fell, his face gone, black blood seeping out onto the pavement from the hole in his head.

  The remaining three zombies were nearly across the street.

  The two elderly women’s shriveled hands pawed at the air. Joe ran at them then quickly veered to the side to make his attack. He fired the X-09. A bullet pierced through both undead grannies and they collapsed on each other when they hit the pavement.

  The young man was last.

  Joe stood and waited for him to come closer. The young man stumbled nearer, one of his ankles bent inward at an odd angle, either rotted near through or broken. It was hard to tell because of the fella’s
pant leg. The young man’s white eyes locked onto Joe as he wobbled forward. He brought his hands up and close together, as if his goal was to strangle Joe.

  Joe raised his gun, aimed the barrel between the young man’s eyes, and fired. The creature dropped from Joe’s line of sight. Joe took a step away and surveyed his handiwork. The young man lay face up on the ground, a bullet below one of his eyes, blood bubbling out of him like oil from a well.

  The air was still. Giant zombies thudded in the distance behind him. He wanted to find Tracy.

  “She could be anywhere,” he said.

  He got back on a sidewalk and continued down the street, cautious when crossing from one building to the next, eyes and X-09 ever-ready for anything that might stumble out from behind a dark corner.

  His heart skipped a beat when he heard gunshots from somewhere up and to the right.

  * * * *

  In the instant of May’s movement, Billie’s mind took a snapshot of her. The woman’s eyes were wide, white and creamy, like undercooked egg. Dark patches of black and red decayed skin blotched her face and neck. She smelled of dust and garbage left out in the sun.

  Billie fell back on the bed, giving herself a few extra inches from May’s mouth as the undead woman fell on top of her. Billie socked her in the side of the head then yanked her fingers back as snapping jaws tried to bite them off.

  A low growl came from May as Billie rolled away from her and got to her feet. May stood, her clothes no longer fashionable and pristine, but torn, dirty and caked with blood.

  Dead hands with mottled skin clawed at the air as they tried to grab Billie despite her being out of reach.

  Heart pounding, Billie scanned the room for something she could use as a weapon. May came for her, grabbed hold of her forearm. Billie shot out a fist into May’s neck, snapping the woman’s head back. A soft crack followed the blow and it was enough to allow Billie to push May to the floor.

  Quickly, Billie searched the room again. There was nothing obvious lying around, nothing except—She ran for the wood-and-glass medicine cabinet on the same wall as the door. A part of her debated if she should run, but knew that if she did, May would chase her and, eventually, so would Del not to mention whatever they would end up doing to August.

  Billie brought her fist tight against her shoulder and swung her elbow as hard as she could against the dirty white cabinet door. The glass shattered and the thin wooden frame splintered. She went for it again, breaking the wood clean this time. She grabbed a pointed shard of wood in one hand and a large piece of glass in the other.

  May was already on her feet and coming toward her. Billie hoped that wherever Del was, he couldn’t hear the scuffle.

  Gripping the wooden shard tight, Billie waited for May to get closer. May stumbled forward, mouth agape, tongue wriggling inside her mouth as if she was already tasting Billie’s flesh. The moment May was close enough, Billie swiped at her with the glass, bringing the shard across May’s neck, producing a steady flow of black blood. May didn’t react, but instead came forward, grabbed Billie by the shoulders and brought her head in, trying to bite Billie in the chest. Still holding the glass and wood, Billie pressed both palms against the top of May’s head, her fingers unintentionally intertwining with the undead woman’s dry and filthy hair. May’s forehead kept butting into Billie’s collarbone.

  Swiftly, Billie kicked out, nailing May in the gut. It was enough to get some distance. May straightened and came at her again.

  “Now!” Billie shouted and swung the spiky wooden shard low to high, bringing it in a kind of uppercut straight into May’s open mouth. The tip of the shard tore through the roof of May’s mouth and went in part way. As fast as she could, Billie delivered a follow-up blow with the heel of her hand and drove the wooden piece up into May’s skull even further.

  May took another step forward, stopped, then dropped to the ground.

  Billie rubbed her hand from where it struck the wood. “That one was for you, August.”

  She listened carefully for any indication Del knew what just happened and that he was on his way. Confident all was quiet, Billie went to the doorway and peered out. According to May, August was down the hallway.

  But which way?

  11

  Surrounded

  Joe ran past the large debris littering the street; huge chunks of crumbled walls, curbs and shattered glass forming an obstacle as he sprinted toward the sound. It had to be Tracy. Had to be. He hoped she wasn’t in anything over her head.

  He ran past a flattened white Oldsmobile, no doubt the work of a giant zombie foot. What surprised him about the giants, though, was they didn’t spend all their time ripping up the city. Instead, they seemed to amble in between the buildings as if searching for something—probably food—and only acted out when frustrated or trying to get at their prey.

  Gunshots cracked through the air, this time much louder. He was getting closer. Joe held the X-09 at the ready and fired off a few shots into the heads of a couple zombies that saw him running and began moving toward him. They fell to the ground, the tops of their heads falling to the ground as well, not far beside them.

  Another shout and a feminine yelp. If that was Tracy, then she must be in some serious trouble because she didn’t seem as the type to scream when confronting the undead. The girl was tough as nails, the battle with the undead paramount.

  His kind of girl.

  He shook the thought from his head, taken aback by how easily his reflection on Tracy came and, worse, his approval of who she was.

  Swiftly, he hugged the front wall of a tanned-bricked antique shop, gun ready. The thunder crack of another gun going off sent a jolt through him. He peeked around the corner. Just up the block from the antique shop, Tracy was surrounded, at least a dozen zombies circling her. Some took a step closer before she jerked her body and they took a step back. The ones that didn’t react to her movement were quickly met with a bullet. From either side of the street outside the circle more undead surfaced, some from behind rusting cars, others from behind dumpsters and a couple from an alley. Some simply came in from further up the street.

  Joe did another count. There were now at least twenty zombies from what he could see. There were probably more hiding in behind a few others that he hadn’t caught sight of.

  Way to go, girl, he thought. He kissed the tip of the barrel of the X-09. He stepped out from behind the corner, gun aimed.

  He fired twice. Two undead dropped. Another couple shots. Two more fell.

  A few of the zombies turned around, looking at him with bewilderment.

  “Yeah, you guys know what this is,” he said, glancing toward the X-09. “Come on.”

  Joe boldly walked toward them, doing his best to keep the undead’s attention on him while hopefully Tracy took the opportunity to escape. Instead, she stood in the midst of them, gun raised. She fired off a few shots; three zombies dropped to the ground. A couple of the zombies who had their eyes on Joe turned toward the source of the sound. Joe took the opportunity and removed their heads from their bodies with four consecutive shots from the X-09. The headless corpses were knocked over by their kin before they could even hit the ground.

  The undead horde moved toward him.

  “What’re you doing!” Tracy called from amidst the dead. She swiftly punched one and sent a bullet into the neck of another.

  “Saving you. What do you think?”

  “I’m fine!”

  “What’s your problem?” Joe blasted off a couple more shots.

  Tracy finally got moving and used her forearms to shove her way between a couple of zombies and got past them. She ran toward Joe, but had to veer to the left when other zombies blocked her path.

  Joe blasted another one away.

  “Don’t!” she said. “Only fire if you have to.”

  Joe took out another. “Why?”

  “You’re making a scene!”

  “Hey, you started this.”

  “I don’t w
ant more to come!”

  He dropped to his knees as a zombie came in from the side and tried to grab him around the chest. He avoided its arms, placed the X-09 between its legs, aiming the barrel straight upward. He pulled the trigger and the bullet shot through the creature’s body and exited out of the top of its head. Blood, brain, and bone shot out like a geyser.

  Joe rolled off to the side and kicked the zombie’s legs out from under it. The body dropped.

  Tracy got beside him, squatting down, gun poised. She fired off a shot; a groaning blonde with a long, stringy ponytail caught the bullet in her eye and went down.

  “Look around!” she shouted.

  “I am looking around,” he said and blasted the kneecaps off another zombie before getting to his own feet. The creature stumbled, hit the cement, then started crawling toward him, not giving up. Joe put a bullet into its brain and ended it.

  “Behind you, you idiot,” she said.

  Joe fired off another shot, taking down an elderly woman with half a face and one arm missing. He turned around. “Oh.”

  * * * *

  He could be anywhere, Billie thought as she snuck down the hallway. She had gone left when exiting the room thinking that Del and May probably put August somewhere deeper into the building, furthest from the main door in case he tried to escape. Most of the rooms she passed were dark. She peeked through the windows of the few rooms that had them. This definitely had been a military compound once upon a time. Some of the rooms contained desks; others a few computers; some with maps on the wall and the Canadian flag; one had a double door and upon entering it found it to be a kitchen. There was a mess hall just beyond.