by Chris Fox
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Previously On Deathless
Prologue
Chapter 1- Wake Up
Chapter 2- The End of the World
Chapter 3-Zombies
Chapter 4- The Dead Rule
Chapter 5- Nameless
Chapter 6- The Ring
Chapter 7- High School Bullshit
Chapter 8- Mother's Return
Chapter 9- Return to Cajamarca
Chapter 10- Irakesh
Chapter 11- Deathless
Chapter 12- Hell Hath No Fury
Chapter 13- The House of Mohn
Chapter 14- Zombies
Chapter 15- My Name
Chapter 16- Yukon
Chapter 17- Pursuit
Chapter 18- Suspicious Behavior
Chapter 19- Tracker
Chapter 20- Don't poke the goddess
Chapter 21- Not Too Bright
Chapter 22- Welcome To The Jungle
Chapter 23- Pursuit
Chapter 24- Hidden Rebel Base
Chapter 25- Waking Up
Chapter 26- Disobeying Orders
Chapter 27- Salvage Operation
Chapter 28- Medellin 12km
Chapter 29- Medico Roberto
Chapter 30- Team Crazy
Chapter 31- Steve
Chapter 32- Ambushed
Chapter 33- Consequences
Chapter 34- Sunsteel
Chapter 35- Captain Douche
Chapter 36- Anakim
Chapter 37- Satisfaction
Chapter 38- Pre-flight
Chapter 39- Bad to Worse
Chapter 40- Turning Point
Chapter 41- Deceived
Chapter 42- Fear & Loathing in Panama
Chapter 43- Desperate Gamble
Chapter 44- Mountain Camp
Chapter 45- Present For The Mother
Chapter 46- Awaken, Ka-Ken
Chapter 47- Early British Trackways
Chapter 48- Skyhammer
Chapter 49- Gotcha
Chapter 50- Excalibur
Chapter 51- Wild-Cat Tom
Chapter 52- Water Landing
Chapter 53- Sobek
Chapter 54- Permission Denied
Chapter 55- A Plan
Chapter 56- 24 Hour Fitness
Chapter 57- Parting the Sea
Chapter 58- Sacrifice
Chapter 59- Rage
Chapter 60- Revelations
Chapter 61- Whole Once More
Chapter 62- Jes'Ka
Chapter 63- Escape
Chapter 64- Reinforcements
Chapter 65- Director No More
Chapter 66- Final Preparations
Chapter 67- Set Us Up The Bomb
Chapter 68- Jordan Versus Gregg
Chapter 69- Vengeance
Chapter 70- The Key
Chapter 71- Free Will
Chapter 72- Boom
Chapter 73- Triumph
Chapter 74- Hope
Chapter 75- Bad News
Epilogue
Note to the reader
No Mere
ZOMBIE
Deathless Book 2
Chris Fox
This novel is fiction, except for the parts that aren’t.
Copyright © 2015 by Chris Fox
All rights reserved.
Chrisfoxwrites.com
ISBN-10: 1508470782
ISBN-13: 978-1508470786
For Yukon. You are missed, my friend.
Previously On Deathless
Whenever I pick up the 2nd book in a series I’m always torn. Should I re-read the first book, or just dive right in? I usually want to do the latter, but I can’t always remember what happened in the previous book. This page is for all those people like me who can’t quite remember everything that went down in No Such Thing As Werewolves. I’ve decided to re-cap it just like a TV show. For those that just finished No Such Thing As Werewolves feel free to skip to the prologue.
In an announcer voice ‘Last time, on deathless…”
A giant black pyramid bores from the earth in Peru, and a team of soldiers have been dispatched to investigate. They encounter a werewolf dressed in Egyptian style clothing, which tears through their ranks before escaping. They bring in a team of scientists to help them investigate the pyramid, and quickly find that the central chamber is full of very lethal radiation. They desperately seek a way into the pyramid’s control room, while the escaped werewolf with the bad fashion sense (Ahiga) begins slaughtering innocents. Some of those innocents rise as werewolves, and a plague begins spreading across South America.
The desperate team of scientists recruits Blair Smith, a brilliant anthropologist working at a local junior college as a teacher. Blair finds a way into the inner chamber, where the team discovers a woman sleeping inside of a high tech sarcophagus the ancients called a rejuvenator. Unfortunately, the act of opening the door to the inner chamber injects Blair with an unknown virus and Blair dies (it’s all very sad, really). Within hours he rises again as a werewolf and begins slaughtering his former companions.
Blair wakes up in a small Peruvian village not far from the pyramid where he meets Liz, a beautiful young redhead from the United States. The pair are pursued by Commander Jordan, the leader of the forces controlled by the mysterious (terribly mysterious) Mohn Corp. Liz is killed and brought back by Blair as a werewolf, and we learn that female werewolves are much larger, and much scarier than males. The pair flees north, deciding that if they can get to California Liz’s brother Trevor might be able to help them find some sort of cure.
Meanwhile Ahiga tries to catch up, because he realizes that Blair has inadvertently stolen the key to the Ark (the pyramid). That key is required to wake the woman inside, who Ahiga refers to as the Mother. It turns out she’s the progenitor of the entire werewolf species, and when Ahiga finally catches up to Blair he tells him that without her the world is doomed. He explains that the world is about to enter a new age. The sun will go through a Coronal Mass Ejection, which will wipe out nearly all technology. This CME will also activate a virus that will turn all the people who currently have it into zombies (oh crap).
Blair decides to be a dumbass and tells Ahiga to go screw himself. He and Liz continue on to California where they meet up with Trevor and begin investigating the werewolf virus. It turns out that Trevor is a helio-seismologist who just so happens to be investigating a giant sunspot (what a coincidence, right?). He confirms that a CME could royally screw the entire planet, and agrees to help Blair and Liz get back to Peru to wake the Mother.
Before they leave, Commander Jordan and his comic relief sidekick Yuri show up with a bunch of soldiers in power armor. They blow up Trevor’s house and his 67 Mustang, but fail to catch Blair. The werewolves escape back to Peru where they gather some furry allies and invade the Ark. They battle Mohn Corp’s ever growing army, and there are casualties on both sides. The werewolves win and wake the Mother, who slaughters poor Commander Jordan and every soldier under his command. It’s very sad, because by this point we feel bad for poor Jordan.
In the epilogue the asshole author (that’s me) dropped a really, really messed up cliffhanger. One of the scientists had the virus that would cause her to turn into a zombie when the CME hits. Not only does she turn into a zombie, but Trevor gets bitten within the first 30 seconds of the zombie apocalypse. Poor readers were left wondering what happened to Trevor. Fortunately, you’re holding the sequel and are about to find out. I hope you enjoy it…
If you do please consider leaving a review both for this book and for No Such Thing As Werewolves. I’m an indie author, and revie
ws are vitally important to my success. You might also consider signing up for the mailing list to hear when Deathless Book 3: Vampires Don’t Sparkle is available. If you do I’m happy to give you a free copy of The First Ark, the prequel that explains a bit more about who the Mother is and where the zombie virus comes from.
Okay, enough rambling! On to No Mere Zombie…
Prologue
11,000 BCE
Africa
Irakesh shook the chill rain from his cloak, handing it to the pale-faced thrall by the door. The frail old man gave a bow, leathery skin sagging around sunken eyes. Such an embarrassment. The worthless servant was a stark contrast to the majesty of this place, one of the oldest structures in the world. Ptah’s temple predated all others save the Ark, or so Irakesh had been taught.
He strode up the wide marble entry way, ignoring the handful of thralls who peered anxiously around columns. None were brave enough to challenge his passing. Not that he expected them to. They were not warriors and the na-kopesh riding at his hip was a warrior’s weapon. A Sunsteel sword, one of only a handful in existence. An honor no other deathless his age had ever been accorded.
Irakesh moved confidently down a side passageway, idly gazing upon the elaborate murals depicting their creator’s earliest feats. Such a pity that Ptah’s greatest works were long behind him. The ancient deathless should have had the grace to take his own life, rather than fade into obscurity. Yet it was to Irakesh’s benefit that he still lived, if their existence could be called life.
He finally stopped before a wide chamber with a low stone table. His target sat alone, hunched over a faded bronze chalice. Irakesh sat down across from him, surveying his target. Ptah’s dark-skinned face was made for scowls. Excessive unibrow, crooked nose. His shimmering white cloak was rumpled and the golden lion clasp needed time with a rag and polish. His thralls were doing a poor job attending to his appearance, though from the look of the wretches they themselves were just as worn.
From the way Ptah leaned into the table he’d already enjoyed several cups of fermented blood. He didn’t even glance up when Irakesh sat, though Irakesh could have been an assassin dispatched by a more powerful deathless.
Yes, he could see why this once great man had fallen from the lofty heights of power. Deathless Ptah, a man older than he by millennia, yet one who’d never managed to accumulate a power base. He was forever trapped at middling rank, his monumental creations little more than ancient tales, eclipsed by those like Irakesh, who were bold enough to take risks at a young age and thus catch the attention of more powerful masters.
Careful my host. Do not underestimate him. He is old but cunning. The Risen’s voice buzzed like a fly in the corner of his mind. Irakesh ignored it.
Ptah looked up from his chalice, swirling the thick scarlet contents. “What do you want, boy? Let me enjoy this age’s final weeks in peace.”
“My apologies for the intrusion, mighty Ptah. I’m hoping our meeting will be both brief and profitable,” Irakesh assured him, all smiles. He rested a friendly arm on the stone table. “Ra asks your cooperation.”
Ptah paled, setting his cup on the table with more force than he’d probably intended. Its sticky contents sloshed over the side, adding to the layer of grime on the pitted stone. He gave Irakesh a sidelong glance. “Ra? I refuse to grant her that title. What could Sekhmet possibly want from me? I have no power. No influence. No one will grant me a place in an Ark.”
“Ra may,” Irakesh corrected, horrified by the man’s use of his mother's true name. Such usage was forbidden, punishable with an excruciating death. He gestured to the thrall standing behind Ptah. The woman scurried over with a second chalice, squeezing a tiny spigot placed in her wrist. The wooden cup filled with her warm blood, potent with the alcohol that she’d imbibed. It was the fastest and most enjoyable way for a deathless to get drunk, something it appeared Ptah knew intimately. “If you aid me, there could be a place for you in the Ark of the Cradle.”
“So Sekhmet dangles the carrot then,” Ptah snorted, eyeing him suspiciously, as expected. Ra controlled the Ark and would make the final selections. Those she favored would live to see another age of the world thirteen millennia from now. A full half the longest count. Those she didn’t would wither and die when the sun went through its change, denying them its life-sustaining energy. That momentous event was nearly upon them.
“She’d add me to her pantheon then?” Ptah asked, a glimmer of hope flitting across his features before he brutally repressed it. “Not without a high blood price, I’d wager. What does she wish of me?”
“You are a man of little influence, Ptah. We all know that,” Irakesh said, a slight smile slipping into place. He might be enjoying this just a little too much. “What you do have is an incredible talent for shaping helixes. We owe much to your discoveries. Ra asks that you shape mine in a very specific way. You were one of those responsible for the discovery of the Ark of the Redwood, were you not?”
“It was my hand that shaped that Ark’s access key, yes. I did it at Isis’s direction, but I hold no loyalty to her. I am neutral in this eternal squabble,” Ptah said, eyes growing dangerous. Like a rat who’d been cornered.
“Peace, Ptah. I’m not accusing you of anything,” Irakesh said, holding up his hands in a gesture of friendship. He savored a sip of blood before continuing. “I care nothing for your loyalties. Only for your ability to shape.”
“What is it you desire? Speak plainly, boy. I’ve no patience left for games,” the man growled, picking up his cup and downing the contents in one defiant swallow. He stood higher than Irakesh, but that was overshadowed by Irakesh’s matron. Everyone feared Ra. Even Isis.
“I need to fool the access key to the Ark of the Redwood. It must believe me of Isis’s bestial get,” Irakesh explained, then took a small sip of his own beverage. It was warm and tangy, not up to his usual standards. Hardly surprising in this forgotten corner of the world.
“You what?” Ptah asked, slack-jawed. Then he began a dry wheezing laugh. It went on for long moments before he calmed enough to continue. “Boy, you are wasting my time. Even if I could do the shaping, there’s no way you’ll ever lay hands on that access key. It’s protected by Isis herself, deep within her stronghold on the jungle continent.”
“How I lay hands on the key is my business. Can you do what I ask?” Irakesh demanded, leaning over the table and resting his hand on the hilt of his na-kopesh. Ptah’s flat smile seemed more amused than threatened.
“I taught Sobek to become one with the crocodile. Gave Anubis the blood of the jackal. Of course I can shape your helixes. It’s a trivial matter,” Ptah allowed, throwing back his cloak to expose broadly muscled shoulders. The physique surprised Irakesh. It seemed that he had some pride remaining. His gaze became calculating, though still fogged by drink. “If I do this, I want more than some vague assurance about a place in the Ark of the Cradle. Tell me your plan and if it amuses me, I may do as you ask.”
“That’s a dangerous question, Ptah. A deathless could be concerned that you intend to sell this information to Isis,” Irakesh said, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. He doubted that he’d need it, but one could never be sure. Even Ptah might attack rather than be taken for interrogation. Irakesh was one of the finest swordsmen in the world, but who knew what hidden powers Ptah might possess?
“There’s no time left for that,” Ptah scoffed, slamming his empty chalice down with a metallic clink. “I want to know, because if Isis catches you, she’ll know that I did the shaping that let you take the key. What do you think will happen to me then? Not very forgiving, that one.”
“If you’re in the Ark with Ra? Nothing. She’ll protect you,” Irakesh answered smoothly. The man’s concern seemed legitimate, but something about it rang false. He’d probably been working with Isis for centuries, quietly passing secrets and betraying his own kind. “Very well, I’ll share the plan. Assuming you can do the shaping right here. Do your work and you’ll h
ave the entire plan, my word as a deathless.”
Ptah studied him carefully, then gave a tight nod. No deathless with a shred of honor would break their word. Besides, Ptah must know that Irakesh could haul him before Ra, if needed. That would be unpleasant for them both.
“Very well, give me your palm,” Ptah demanded, extending a leathery hand with his palm facing up. Irakesh obliged, laying his palm against Ptah’s. It was clammy, a decidedly undeathless-like trait. “Hold still. There will be pain.”
Fire flooded up through Irakesh’s hand, spilling into his arm as it raced through his entire body. It was agony, the sort that could crush a lesser mind. Fortunately, Irakesh had endured far worse. His mother had seen to that. For him this was a pleasant diversion, a reminder of his own power in the face of pain. He allowed the waves of energy to course through him, gritting his teeth but refusing to cry out.
The entire process lasted perhaps a dozen heartbeats. By the end, a sheen of sweat had broken out on Ptah’s face. If he were still capable of breathing, the man would have been panting.
“It is done. The key will accept you as one of Isis's get,” he said, releasing Irakesh’s hand and leaning heavily against the table. It was an impressive feat, showing a glimmer of the power that the man had once possessed.
“Very well, you have done as asked. I will live up to my end of our bargain,” Irakesh said. He was ambitious and willing to cut corners on his rise to power, but even he wouldn’t break his oath. Without his word, man was no better than beast. “I am going to slipsail to the jungle continent and sneak into the Mother’s Ark. I have already arranged for an ‘accident’ to cause significant damage, so she’ll be occupied with repairs when I enter. I’m quite skilled at shadow dancing, as you’re well aware.”
“Ha,” Ptah snorted, waving at the thrall to refill his cup. “It won’t save you. That will get you inside and if you’re lucky she won’t notice you using one of her rejuvenators. But what of waking? When the longest count ends and the Ark returns to the world, you’ll have to not only sneak past Isis to steal the key, but then escape and flee across two continents before you can use it.”