SCAR (LOST CREEK SHIFTERS NOVELLAS Book 2)

by Samantha Leal

  "Talin! Where are you?" She whispered.

  "Over here," He replied, spitting out a mouthful of wet sand.

  She brushed him off, then crouched silently, clutching the AK-47 she had picked up and brought along. Cass knew it was almost useless against the zombies, but holding it made her feel safer. The soldiers didn't come after them.

  "They must think they killed me." Cass whispered, crawling towards the road for a better look. The soldiers were corralling a group of prisoners; innocent locals who'd been deemed "troublesome."

  "Oh god no," Cass whispered, closing her eyes. She'd seen this type of brutality before.

  Shots rang out as the first prisoners were executed. She heard other innocents pleading for mercy… and more gunfire. The begging ceased as the last body dropped. Their work complete, the soldiers did what soldiers do… lit cigarettes and chatted among themselves.

  "Are those bodies going to turn?" Cass asked Talin.

  "From what we know, I’d say probably yes … remember, this is my first zombie outbreak."

  Screams rang out as the dead endured what was apparently the agony of resurrection. Moments later first wave of zombies crawled from where they had lain dead minutes before. The soldiers opened fire, pouring hundreds of bullets into the oncoming horde. It had no effect except in cases where the sheer volume of fire had severed limbs. Even then the zombies came on as best they could, with their severed bits doing left squirming in their wake. Within seconds the fighting was hand-to-hand.

  Cass seized the opportunity. Pulling the bike upright she cranked the starter. It sputtered once, twice, "Come on baby, start for momma," and finally the engine kicked over. "Yes!"

  "You can always rely on a Vespa," Talin added.

  "Well right now I wish it was a Humvee!" Was she really having a conversation with a severed head?

  Balancing Talin's basket in her lap Cass pulled out, steering the bike straight into the melee. "Hang on!" She yelled.

  "With what?"

  Good point, she thought. Cass weaved and skidded, maneuvering through attacking zombies and crazed soldiers alike. Everything was great until a zombie grabbed her leg. Cass tried to dislodge the creature but it was holding on for sheer afterlife. The extra weight was slowing the bike down and other zombies were closing in. Struggling to keep her balance Cass steered towards a soldier, veering just to his right as she passed. The clinging zombie struck the soldier hard enough to jar it loose and send the entangled pair tumbling. The much lightened bike quickly accelerated, leaving the carnage behind.

  "Well at least those bastards got what they deserved," She shouted to Talin.

  "Except now they will be zombies."

  "Don't rain on my parade darling," she replied steering the bike towards the resort. "Hey honey,” she asked her lover’s head, “do we have… I don't know… a plan?"

  "I was going to ask you that," Talin said. “You’re the one with the body.”

  "Fan-fucking-tastic."

  CHAPTER 9

  Novia watched the troops herding the American survivors. At a quick glance she estimated twenty five tourists were dead; a number which was well within their accepted parameters. Other soldiers were working their way through the resort buildings, executing any locals on the staff. Some dead islanders would help balance the score card for the international press, changing the headlines from "Americans slaughtered," to a more manageable "Innocents massacred." It was all in the wording. Either way, they were depending on the international outrage to propel them into power.

  Novia stared down at the deceased first lady with satisfaction. This was actually the first time she had ever killed anyone, and she had rather enjoyed it. For years she'd suffered abuse from that highborn bitch. All the condescending looks down her surgically perfected nose. She'd even forbidden Colonel Marcos from marrying Novia, declaring her an embarrassing whore. Just as she was enjoying the site of the bitch dead at her feet, she did something unexpected… the first lady opened her eyes.

  The dead woman lashed out with a manicured hand, grabbing Novia's ankle like a vice. Novia tried to pull away but lost her balance, tumbling to the ground. The dead woman crawled forward on her belly, saline leaking out of her chest with every lunge. Her Botox fattened lips were pulled back in a snarl, exposing veneer teeth that threatened to bury themselves in Novia's leg any moment.

  Chaos erupted across the compound. The dead were rising, and they clearly had it in for the living. Naked, bullet riddled zombies crawled out of the Jacuzzi to savage the soldiers who had so recently cut them down. The soldiers opened fire, mowing down the living as well as adding holes to the zombie’s flesh. Innocent people were dropped down in every direction as the soldiers went into full panic.

  Novia pulled the tiny handgun from her purse, trained the laser site on the first lady's forehead and fired twice. The bitch just shook her head and kept coming.

  "Shit," Novia yelled. Stupid movies! She was not the first, nor would she be the last to be bitterly disappointed with Hollywood’s take on the undead that night. She only had four rounds left she realized. They had to count. She shifted her aim to the zombie's wrist, firing three times. The third shot severed the hand and Novia finally pulled away. With a dancer's grace she hopped to her feet, instantly scanning for other threats.

  One of the Colonel's personal guards was already racing to Novia's rescue. He grabbed her by the shoulder to pull her to safety but in the same instant, a horde of zombified swimsuit models blocked their escape. The guard fired into the oncoming mass, but it barely slowed them down. Novia had only one bullet left. She knew there was only one way to escape the agony of being eaten alive herself. She aimed her laser sight at the guard's crotch and fired. He dropped to his knees, screaming in agony. The zombies were on him in moments.

  "You'll get a medal for this," Novia shouted as she gracefully slipped away.

  CHAPTER 10

  Jack raced through the dining room, dragging Fawn behind him. Once the soldiers found the bodies outside they'd be hot on their tail, he figured. The best tactic was to get inside a large building and take every possible twist and turn. His current approach was to really make their pursuers work for it and hope they got lazy.

  He slipped down a service corridor and into a large kitchen. He stopped short. A soldier was kneeling inside the doorway, struggling to remove a dead waiter's watch. He looked up in surprise and scrambled for his rifle. Jack killed him with one short burst. The sound of gunfire sent Fawn into uncontrollable shakes.

  "It's okay Fawn. He was a bad guy." He said softly.

  Other bodies littered the floor. There were about ten, and from the looks of things they were all waiters or cooks… locals. Fawn saw the corpses and buried her head in Jack's shoulder.

  "It's okay honey, we're staying right here," He said, patting her head gently.

  "But there's dead people all over the floor," She replied, body shaking. “What’s happening?”

  "I’m not sure, but whoever did this is already gone. I've been in a lot of war zones and troops rarely return to a killing field."

  Fawn looked up at him, clearing tears from her eyes, "I thought you were, like… a travel writing guy?"

  "Well, not really. I work for the NSA."

  Fawn looked confused, "The tax people?"

  "Let's just say the CIA… you've heard of them right?"

  Fawn's eyes widened in awe. Jack went to a stack of dining chairs, pulled one off and gently sat Fawn down. Leaning against the steel counter he typed a coded message to his bosses. "Coupe in progress, at least thirty armed combatants, American fatalities and hostages," He pounded out more specifics and waited for a reply from his handler. Fawn was still shaking.

  "It's okay honey, I'm getting help."

  "You're calling the police?"

  Jack's IPad beeped, and he took a moment to study the reply and grinned, "Screw the police, we've got the United States fucking Navy coming for us."

  Fawn managed a smile, "That's aweso
me Jack." She became lost in thought for a moment. "That was going to be my first one you know."

  "First what?" Jack asked, confused.

  "Porn shoot. I know I sounded like a total slut who'd done a hundred, but I’m not. I just really needed money.”

  "Yeah, I could tell."

  "Really?" Fawn said, her face lighting up.

  "Absolutely, I knew right away you were really a nice girl," Jack shot her his most sincere smile. He was only telling a half truth, but he saw no need to say how lost she looked. The poor kid was a wreck.

  Fawn's smile suddenly vanished. She screamed, pointing behind them frantically. Jack turned, rifle at the ready… and froze. Despite training for every situation he was still taken totally aback. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

  The dead bodies were moving and unsteadily actually climbing to their feet. Jack could have believed one person surviving a massacre like this, but not all of them. Jack knew they couldn't be alive because one of them was missing the entire top of his head. A chef rushed forward and Jack fired a long burst into his chest. The attacker staggered backwards, stunned for a moment, but then came right at them again. The rest of the murdered workers fell in behind him as they rushed the couple.

  Jack grabbed Fawn's hand and they both raced down the kitchen aisle. He paused to shove a huge pot of seafood bisque off the stove, spilling it into the oncoming zombie's path. The zombie-chef lost his footing in the slippery liquid, toppling backwards, slowing the onslaught for a moment.

  Jack turned to find another pack of zombies approaching from the other end of the kitchen, blocking their escape. They were surrounded… but there was a heavy steel door to his right. With no time to think he yanked open the door, pushing Fawn through. Before he could follow the zombie-chef grabbed his arm from behind. Jack spun, raising the rifle in the process. He emptied the magazine into the chef's neck at point blank range, severing his head. Jack shoved the headless, but still groping, zombie into the oncoming horde, buying him the second he needed to duck into the room.

  Jack slammed the door behind him, sighing in momentary relief as it clicked shut. Then he took a moment to survey the space. It was an industrial cold room, stocked with fruits and vegetables. He glanced at the door handle, "Shit, it doesn't lock from in here!" It actually had an emergency escape sort of button or lever to prevent people from being locked in. He jammed the butt of the rifle into the door handle, as it were. A second later one of the zombies began pulling frantically as other undead pounded on the door. Jack was sure the steel door would hold for a while, but fuck, it was cold as shit in here, he thought. He glanced over at the nearly naked Fawn.

  "It's really cold in here Jack," She said, already shivering.

  Great, Jack thought, the door would probably hold up just long enough for us to freeze to death.

  CHAPTER 11

  Cass pulled off the main road, steering the bike down the dark construction path. By some miracle they hadn't run into any more zombies. She recognized the local bus she'd seen earlier parked a few yards away from the resort's bulldozer. There was no sign of any passengers.

  Cass turned off the Vespa's engine and listened to the shouting and sporadic gunfire coming from the resort.

  "We're too late," She said sadly.

  "You did your best," Talin replied from his basket, trying to reassure her, "Maybe we can take the bus and look for survivors?"

  The distant screams haunted her, "I doubt we'd find any." Cass recalled her military training… access the situation… search for any tools at hand. She glanced over at a metal shed, listening to the low hum of machinery inside.

  "That's the resort's water softening system," she said to herself as she scanned the area. She thought for a moment, and then raced over to the metal shed." I have an idea," It was crazy…but this whole night was crazy…her plan actually bordered on suicidal, but at least it was a plan.

  CHAPTER 12

  Novia darted and danced through the chaos until she reached the defensive cordon Colonel Marcos had established on the miniature golf course. Grabbing a discarded rifle from the ground she raced to her man's side.

  He held her tightly, "Thank God you're safe. Did my man find you?"

  "Yes, darling, but he didn't make it."

  "I see, ok, I've called for help, it should arrive momentarily."

  As if on cue, they heard the whirling of helicopter blades. Novia's heart soared as a camouflage Huey helicopter buzzed the resort. It circled once and then began its descent. The Miniature Golf course was barely large enough for the chopper to set down. Marcos took Novia's hand, guiding her into the chopper, before climbing in himself.

  Soldiers raced towards the chopper to be evacuated, but this was not the time to bring a bunch of panic stricken men on board. It was safer to go it alone Novia reasoned as she opened fire on the troops, cutting down the colonel's faithful guard in mid stride. The Helicopter rose slowly, until a soldier leapt into the air, grabbing the skids and hanging on for dear life. Novia leaned out and fired another burst as the bird turned and began to move off. The dead man fell to the ground, crushing the course's miniature windmill. Now unencumbered, the chopper ascended, leaving all the madness behind them.

  Within two minutes they were soaring over the jungle bound for the capital. Hopefully the nightmare was limited to this side of the island.

  Novia sat back, finally able to relax and catch her breath for the first time in what felt like hours. She smiled with relief as she felt reassuring touch of the colonel's hand on her leg. She glanced over at him warmly… realizing with sudden revulsion that both his hands were clasped behind his head. Lowering her gaze she realized that the first lady's severed hand was still clamped firmly to her knee, and it was squeezing tighter by the second.

  "Get it off, get it off," She screamed, fruitlessly pounding her fists on the zombie appendage.

  The Colonel grabbed the hand and pulled with all his might, once, then twice. Finally the hand's grip loosened enough to peel it off. The colonel tossed the hand away in disgust, aiming for the open side window. He missed. The clutching hand landed in the pilot's lap, gripping his testicles in a vice like grip. He howled in agony, instantly losing control of the helicopter as he frantically sought to remove the offending appendage from his most sensitive parts.

  The chopper spun wildly, rapidly losing altitude. Novia stared out the window, screaming, as the jungle grew closer. Packs of monkeys leapt for cover as the Huey's blades sliced into the treetops. It spun like a demented top, finally crashing into a lagoon. The engine stalled, and the chopper lay silently in three feet of water. All was still and the only signs of life were coming from the jungle creatures whose world had been so suddenly turned upside down. Within minutes however, the chaos was forgotten, and the jungle returned to normal. There was only the sound of the monkeys howling in the trees.

  CHAPTER 13

  The zombies kept hammering on the cold room door but the six inch thick insulated door and improvised lock held fast. There were moments of quiet but always the pounding began again. The zombies never seemed to grow weary or diverge from their single minded purpose.

  Jack checked his IPad, but it was useless. Even his souped-up device couldn't pick up a signal from within a steel room. There would be no calling for help.

  Fawn leaned against him, trying desperately to stay warm, "I'm sorry Jack," She said.

  "Sorry for what?"

  "If it wasn't for me you probably would have gotten away. I was too pathetic to save myself,” she said looking down at the ground.

  "That's not true," Jack said, "I think you were pretty courageous back there." He studied her face. She was very pretty but there was a trace of sadness in her eyes, like a permanent scar. "You've spent a lot of time being blamed for things that weren't your fault. Am I right?"

  "Kind of. My mom always said that if it wasn't for me she would have found a nice rich guy, instead of a jerk like my stepfather."

  "She should've realized
how lucky she was."

  There was another wave of pounding on the door. Fawn squeezed his hand, "We're going to die in here, aren't we Jack?"

  Jack was about to lie, saying everything would be okay but Fawn wasn't that stupid, and she deserved his honesty "It's a distinct possibility. Sorry Fawn, I wish I could have done more."

  "Don't be sorry, you're the first guy who ever cared enough to help me. You're one of the good guys."

  Jack looked back on all the things he'd done in the service of his country. He was far from a good guy in his mind, but it felt good to hear nonetheless. Maybe he could be a good guy, he thought.

  Fawn reached up and touched his face. Her warm hand felt good, "If we're going to die anyhow, maybe we can… well, you know? It’ll keep us warm at least."

  Jack pondered the situation. His communication device was useless, and the steel door was their only escape route. Even if he fought his way past the zombies Fawn would never make it. And truth be told, it sounded like there was an army of them out there. He would never get through, not even alone. There was nothing further he could do to accomplish his mission. Jack always assumed he'd die in the line of duty, probably shot on some distant battlefield, or captured and tortured to death. This latest development offered a much nicer demise than he had ever imagined. He leaned down and kissed Fawn softly.

  The kiss grew deeper, more passionate. Fawn stopped shivering as the fear of death gave way to primal instinct and passion. Her hands slid under his T-Shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Jack let go of all thoughts of the zombie horde outside, as he kissed her neck and caressed her ample breasts. At first they were both cold and shivering, but within seconds, as their passions were awakened, the blood raced through them, spreading warmth throughout their bodies. Jack ran his tongue around her hard nipples, as she caressed his head, pulling him tighter into her.

  The zombies were furiously pounding on the door, but knowing that death was only inches away only made the couple's blood run hotter. Jack had been with a lot of women over the years, but this was by far the most intense scenario he could remember. It wasn't just sex for pleasure; this was an affirmation of life.