Serena Rogue (Book 1): Zombie Infestation

by Bushman, LJ

  The silence surrounding us engulfed the car. Joseph looked at me intently. Whether it was my conscience or his look, I felt squirmy. Why wouldn’t he answer the damn question?

  “How long do I have?” he said instead.

  Damn, double-damn, fuck and hell. Oh wait, and shit. I leaned forward, resting my forehead on the steering wheel. Why me? What fucked up power in the universe put me in charge of the anti-zombie ring? I was perfectly happy being a writer and mother, filling my days with pee-wee baseball and sitting at my computer.

  Now I was a damn P.I. and zombie killer.

  And one of the best men I’d met in my life was probably turning into a zombie in the front seat of my car.

  “Within a week or two. It’ll show up in tests, if you know what to look for. Your doctor won’t see it. No one else can find the markers, except me and those who made the virus, and apparently, the people we’re supposed to meet tomorrow who say they have the anti-virus,” I said, suddenly excruciatingly exhausted. I’d hit emotional overload.

  “How long before I turn?” he demanded. I didn’t blame him for his anger. I’d want to know too.

  “It’s not that simple. Some people never completely turn. Their bodies waste away. That branch of the virus is recognized as HIV and AIDS. Instead of strengthening the immune system like the creators wanted, it attacks it. Some succumb immediately to the final stages. The virus’ progression is so fast, the person turning doesn’t know what’s happening.”

  “But none of that is what happened to Agent Robins, is it?”

  My stomach clenched, and my heart felt like it’d been squeezed by a dull paper cutter. “No,” I said quietly. “It’s not.”

  He needed to understand. I knew that. But why me? Telling him vital information regarding a mission wasn’t so bad. Being forced to tell him details about what was likely to happen to him personally, hurt.

  “No. For him, it’s working like the creators intended. He’s virile, powerful, tireless, unstoppable in purpose, and virtually un-killable. He’s also irresistible on a sexual level.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Joseph said, frowning. “What’s the catch?”

  “The catch is it brings out the vile parts of people whose civilized demeanor is just a veneer for public consumption. I’d bet that Special Agent Gene Robins has had his own special feasts.” My gut churned, threatening to make me gag again. I’d seen firsthand the damage men like him had caused.

  “What about men like me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Men who live by honor and loyalty. Men who don’t hide their evil behind the veneer of civilization. Men who fight evil.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one of your ilk infected before. Maybe, before you die, you won’t kill and eat people. Maybe. But after you die, you will kill innocents. They all do,” I finished sadly.

  “How do you know all this? What’s your game? I can’t figure out what you’re about,” he said as he stepped out of the car. I sat a moment longer while he grabbed his luggage.

  I didn’t answer him right away, unsure how to answer his questions. Despite his obvious anger, I wanted to be honest with him. But I had to think of the long term ramifications. I got out of the car and began getting my stuff together, still not answering him.

  I headed into the hotel and he followed. We checked in and walked down the wide hallway to our shared room on the first floor. He didn’t press for an answer. It didn’t make me feel any better. He was smart and patient. I needed to be wary. As soon as we closed the door on our shared room, he leaned against it, folded his arms across his chest, and stared at me. I knew he wanted answers and couldn’t blame him. It didn’t change that I still felt conflicted on how much information to give him.

  “What’s your interest in all this,” he asked when I showed no signs of spilling my guts. “You’re more than just a writer who’s been called in by these guys. A writer doesn’t usually carry around a Magnum .357 and knives.”

  Shit. Why wouldn’t he leave it be? I don’t know, maybe because he’s been exposed, I answered myself. Blood had covered everything in the room at the safe house where we killed the zombies. The doctors had one thing right about AIDS; it transmitted through blood and open wounds.

  “You’re right. I told you some of it before. How I was exposed. Strictly speaking, the government believes I’m not showing any symptoms,” I said reluctantly.

  “But?”

  “But the government doesn’t know anything. I haven’t been sick since the initial two weeks after exposure.”

  “Are you saying you’re one of the Infected?” He sounded too calm, given the situation. I had to hand it to him, he kept his cool under fire.

  “Uh, not exactly.” Way to go, Serena. Why don’t you rake fingers down a chalkboard and increase his torture?

  “What, exactly, then?” His patience had obviously frayed at the edges.

  “I’m immune. Completely immune. I can’t get it.”

  He stood and stared at me, hope dawning on his face. I could practically see the words as they crossed his mind.

  “So if some can become immune, then maybe—”

  “There’s no maybe,” I said harshly. I wanted to cry. It wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t give him false hope.

  He got in my face. I looked up into his eyes, where fear and hope warred, and it was a sucker punch in the gut.

  “Tell me why there’s no maybe.” He leaned in, not leaving me an inch of space.

  “Because as far as I’ve been able to find, I’m the only one who’s ever become immune.”

  “How do you know?”

  I gave him the short version of my testing procedures and labs. On the weird ‘T’ on my cells others lacked.

  “Have you figured out why?”

  “No!” I cried. “Do you think if I figured it out, I wouldn’t have told the world? I want my kids safe. I need my kids safe.” I was yelling and had to stop and swallow. I didn’t want our neighbors to call hotel security.

  “If I tell anyone before I figure it out, I’ll be taken away. They’ll give my kids to the asshole who cheated on me, who hasn’t bothered to see them since he started another family. I won’t do that to my kids. I will kill anyone who tries to take my kids from me or vice versa. Is that clear?”

  He stepped back a pace. Probably to get away from the maniacal woman leaning into his personal space, berating him in an angry whisper. “Clear. Remind me not to piss you off.” He turned away and unpacked his bags.

  I chose to ignore his remark. It was easier. “I want your word that you won’t put any of this in a report.”

  “I won’t. What will I say? Material person in case told me she was immune to the zombie virus I’ve recently been exposed to? No one would believe me and my superiors would demand a mental evaluation. Those suck. And the people who do believe me? They’ll either put me in a lab or watch me until I show symptoms. Or have me killed.” His voice was laced with pain and frustration.

  I couldn’t offer him any comforting words. He was right. For the time being, we were stuck in the same boat. He wanted the antivirus as much as I did. Question was, how would we get it?

  Chapter 11

  I was exhausted by the time we finished unpacking and I’d cleaned my weapons. My mind wouldn’t relax after our conversation. Plus, Joseph was sexy as hell. I’d tried to avoid thinking of him that way, but standing in a hotel room over two thousand miles from home, and in a foreign country, had addled my brain. Normally, I wouldn’t consider jumping a guy I’d barely met. My body insisted on reminding me it had been too long.

  It took me a while to figure out I had an unnatural effect on men. Once I did, I became loathe to date. I’d since learned how to keep my allure under wraps and bring it out to use on my targets. It still haunted me. I wasn’t interested in a relationship with a man who couldn’t help himself—my ex used that same excuse when I caught him cheating on me.

  The events of the last fe
w days left me on edge, keyed up. I needed a release. If I were there for a writer’s conference, I’d slip out and find a gym if the hotel had one. Considering the state of current circumstances, exerting extra energy was a bad idea.

  So, I started pacing the hotel room, trying to alleviate the tension and adrenaline build up. On my third pass by his bed, Joseph jumped to his feet and grabbed my shoulders.

  “Hey, there. Calm down. We’ll get your kids,” he said quietly, rubbing my shoulders.

  His touch galvanized my senses and I made the decision to use his body, to take and plunder and lose myself in him. I’d been attracted to him from the get go and his caring and comfort were the last straws, shattering my defenses. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him until I became dizzy with lust and want.

  He kissed me back fervently. I guessed he needed the human contact as well. We helped each other strip our clothes off. It was some time before we lay down to sleep.

  Even though there were two beds, we shared one. Believing in our anonymity from the outside world, I felt safe enough for the moment to sleep nude. Although, with the way our luck had been running, I decided to sleep with a knife under the pillow. A big one. This was one case where bigger was better. Okay, make that two cases. I looked at Joseph and stifled a giggle. He was far and away a better lover than my ex-husband had ever been.

  My alarm went off long before I wanted it to. I got up, showered, and put my game face on. There was comfort in slipping into my warrior gear. I laughed at myself. Warrior woman, indeed. I’d been forced to be a fighter. I never set out to be one. But something about putting my leathers and all the weapons on brought me to a place that called to my soul.

  First, I put my makeup on—always makeup first in this system that centered me and prepped me for the role I had to take on. Then I strapped the holsters for the knives and my backup gun to my legs—thighs and ankles, which I covered up with my leather pants. Over my tank top, I put on another holster—a thin leather one with ammo pockets barely detectable unless someone looked for it. I threw my shirt on, followed by my regular shoulder holster. The last thing I put on was the choker necklace holding my favorite zombie-killing knife. As always, I ran through a full gear and weaponry check to make sure I didn’t miss anything and ensure nothing showed that I didn’t want visible.

  Every time I got ready to go out to find and kill zombies, the noticeable differences in myself transfixed me. The change reflected on the outside, but really, it’s an inner change. I wondered if actors felt the same way when they got into character.

  I heard Joseph stirring and speculated about which side of him I’d see when he woke. He was my lover, but there was plenty we didn’t know about each other. Would it be Agent Joseph Connelly, his professional persona, much like my zombie fighter? Or would it be the man—loyal, honest, and sexy, with a creative side I found appealing, but still held the cop tendencies and was always ready to make the changeover. I couldn’t decide which was better for the mission. There were too many variables.

  The frown creasing my brows reflected back at me in the mirror. I smoothed my features back to a plain mask. I mustn’t let my inner turmoil show in front of the enemy. The only person I trusted was Joseph, and I didn’t know how much longer I could trust him.

  Worry pressed against the forefront of my mind. My kids. My friend and babysitter. I closed my eyes, let the worry and fear flow through me. Accepted them, and pushed my concerns away again. I couldn’t be an effective fighter if I actively worried about them. It wouldn’t completely go away until they were safe again, but for the moment, my concerns were contained.

  Taking one last look in the mirror, I nodded. Perfect. I was ready to face whatever the day would bring. I stepped out of the bathroom. Joseph stood in his shorts and nothing else, stretching off the remnants of sleep. I swallowed. Damn. Double damn. Although I could see better than most, the dim lights had kept our tryst the night before less visual and more tactile. It had been awhile since I’d seen the sexual side of a man who didn’t want to literally eat my guts out. I shuddered in revulsion and closed the door on those memories.

  Again, I wished things were different. But they weren’t.

  “Bathroom’s all yours,” I said.

  He gave me a sexy grin and my heart raced. “Good morning.”

  I found myself smiling at him like a teenager with her first crush and tamped it down.

  “Good morning. The water is great and the pressure is better.”

  He walked over and gave me a kiss. “Last night was great,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you since you plowed into the hotel room I was being held in and shot that woman in the knee. Always been a sucker for a woman with brains.”

  Tears stung the back of my eyes. I blinked them away. He didn’t know, but he’d made me the happiest I’d been in a long time. And made a bad zombie joke at the same time. My mind warred with whether to laugh at his unintended joke or be simply be happy.

  I decide on a big grin and touched his cheek. “Thank you,” I said and kissed him again. When we separated, I grabbed my bag.

  “How long do you need to get ready?”

  “About twenty minutes,” he responded. “I need to shave.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes. I’m going to check us out and then you should check us in under your real name. It’s what they’re waiting for.”

  He eyed me up and down and gave a low whistle. “I just noticed your outfit. Damn. You look ready to fight.”

  “I am.”

  “I’ll meet you down in the lobby in thirty. After I’ve checked us in.”

  Smart move. To paraphrase him, I loved having a partner with brains.

  Thirty minutes later, I had us checked out and sat in a corner of the lobby reading a magazine left on the end table. It was in Spanish. I could read Spanish with some concentration, but I’d decided to go for the bored look. I leafed through the magazine a couple times. Stood and paced a bit. Now that the meeting was closer, my anger simmered just below the surface. They had my kids. They dared to touch my kids.

  I knew my eyes were blazing fire by the time Joseph showed up in his Agent Connelly persona. Upon seeing his all-business face, I realized it was exactly the right choice for the terrorists’ expectations.

  “We good?” I asked as he strolled up.

  “Yes. All checked in. We’re in the room next door to the one we stayed in last night.” His eyes softened, but underneath, the hardened agent lurked, ready for the takedown.

  It excited and pleased me. He was as ready for a fight as I was. Those assholes wouldn’t know what hit them by the time we were through with them.

  “One last thing,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s time to call the number they gave me to talk to them. I need to ensure my kids are still safe. I also want to see if my sitter ended up with them.”

  He nodded and handed me his phone. I looked at him questioningly. “For my report, it’s best if you call from my phone. Do as much by the book as possible.”

  He had a point. Technically, they were kidnappers and I’d filed an official report on the situation. Well, technically, they were going to be dead kidnappers if they harmed a hair on my children’s heads. I took his phone and started to dial, angry to see my hands shaking as I pushed on the numbers.

  “Hello,” said the voice from yesterday—was it just yesterday?

  Anger surged through me. My head pounded, my fingers tingled. Physically and mentally, I’d become something this guy couldn’t begin to comprehend.

  “I want to talk to everyone you’re holding,” I said abruptly, fishing for information on my sitter.

  “You want the sitter first, or the brats?”

  Emotions tore through me like a flood. Relief, they had Lori with them. Anger, he called my kids brats. Lastly, laughter because he sounded disgruntled. I was so proud of my kids and sitter. They weren’t taking this lying down.

  “My
kids,” I said in an angry voice.

  “Hi, Mom,” Seth said mutinously. “When are you going to come get us? We drove forever. I’m hungry.”

  “Soon, baby, soon.”

  “Mom, don’t call me baby.”

  If he was well enough to argue, he hadn’t been hurt. Before I could say more, Kyle took over the phone.

  “Hey, Mom,” he said. “I hope you kick these guys’ asses. I told them no one messes with your kids and gets away with it. They laughed at me, but I know how you are when people are unfair to us. I can’t wait to see what you do to these guys.”

  “Kyle, honey. I don’t know when you got to be so bloodthirsty, but you’re right. I don’t like it when people hurt my kids. I don’t know that you’ll get to see it though.” What would my kids think if they saw how I fought?

  “I hope I do. They’re treating us like dirt, but not hitting us. They’re hurting Lori. They keep slapping her. You want to talk with her?”

  “Yes, I do,” I said, struggling to keep the deep fury surging in my gut out of my voice.

  “Serena?” Lori said as she got on.

  “Yes.”

  “Kill these people, whoever they are. Fuck them over.” I heard a slap and a short scream.

  “There, now you know your kids are unharmed. Get to the appointed rendezvous,” the unnamed captor said.

  “Oh, I will.” I hung up and turned to Joseph, who’d huddled close so he could hear both sides of the conversation.

  “It’s show time.”

  Chapter 12

  We moved to our new room, hung the “do not disturb” sign, and didn’t bother to unpack. We went back to the restaurant and waited for the appointed time. We ordered to keep up appearances, but neither one of us ate much.

  I pushed the peas around on my plate like my youngest son did when he acted up. The thought made my heart constrict and my anger grew. I stared at my plate, blinking away tears of fear and frustration.