Serena Rogue (Book 1): Zombie Infestation

by Bushman, LJ

  The knife cut through my pants leg without making me bleed. No reason for her to destroy my clothes, except to piss me off. My anger stirred. I loved these leathers. She elongated the cut. Now I was furious. By cutting my pants, she’d brought me into it again just as I accepted the detachment.

  “What time is it?” I asked her as way of determining how much longer I had to deal with this before retaliating.

  “About seven in the evening. Now, it’s time to talk about your assignment.” She didn’t say what day. Damn.

  “What assignment?” Belligerence, how I love thee.

  She looked at me with cold eyes. “You’re really asking for it. Next time, I’ll let Tweedledum, as you called him in your delirium, do more than handle you a bit. You’ll be under and unable to defend yourself. More than that, I’ll tell you to and you’ll do it happily. Think about that next time you open your mouth.”

  I opened my mouth, then shut it. My compliance pleased her to no end, judging by the return of her canary-eating smile. She ripped my pants higher along the cut she’d made and used the knife to cut down the length of my shin, starting under my knee. I gritted my teeth to hold back my scream. By the time she’d cut the length halfway down my shin, I screamed frantically.

  It took everything I had to not wet my pants as I screamed. Damn it. That would be the proverbial salt on top of the lemon juice poured in the wound. Fuck. I hissed through my gritted teeth, trying to regain control. My jaw ached. I screamed again. After she’d done a straight cut down the full length of my shin, she took my shoe off. Sweat poured down my body and mixed with the blood in my wound.

  My gut hurt from screaming. My muscles tensed, waiting for the next slice, and I looked down despite telling myself to close my eyes and find the detachment again. It didn’t work. Too cognizant of the bloody mess of my leg though I couldn’t see it, I had to see what I could. Andrea took the pointed end of the blade, brought it up for me to gawk at then pried it under the toenail on my right big toe. Using my toe as leverage, she pushed down on the handle, which pulled my toenail up with a noise like a dog chewing on a bone. The blade dug in and I screamed. Again. Searing pain ripped through my leg, sending sharp stinging wasps through my blood stream until it became all my brain focused on.

  When Andrea pulled the knife out and stood, I breathed heavily. It took a minute to catch my breath. “Maybe you should give the Suits lessons in torture.” I stopped for air, giving her a dirty look. “You do know I’m going to kill you for this one day.”

  “You’re programmed to not do me any more harm. I started it yesterday and finished in our session earlier. You’ll do nothing to harm me in any way,” she said smugly.

  I had an a-ha moment.

  If I were programmed not to harm her in any way, how come I’d threatened to kill her? Or were thoughts not covered in the mind-washing? I would hurt her. Broken wrist or not, if she knelt in front of me with that damn blade again, I’d knock her for a loop. It was getting late and whatever Joseph might want from me, I couldn’t take much more of this.

  Andrea set the knife on the tray and walked around my chair a couple of times. It was frustrating not being able to see her. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled when she passed.

  “Hey, I need to pee. And I need some water, and food. That is, if you want me to heal fast enough for you to send me out into the real world.” The foul taste had mostly gone from my mouth, but my throat was dry and I was starving.

  She came around the side of the chair and nodded as if I’d done exactly what she expected. Andrea called someone on her cell. Within ten minutes, I had food. Oh joy. Another lesson—to ask for my food. Until I did, it was withheld. Whatever. I’d be out of there tonight.

  Raphael brought in the tray of food with a cup of water. I wished it was a soda again, but I didn’t say anything. He probably wasn’t supposed to bring it to me the first time. A look of compassion crossed his face before his expression went flat. I nodded and took the food from him. I wolfed it all down, but now I had to piss like a racehorse.

  “I really need to go. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me having to sit in piss, but your delicate senses won’t be able to handle it and I get the feeling you aren’t done with me yet.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I want you to memorize some facts for your article, first. Of course, I’ll give you collaborating scientific documents in case of closer scrutiny. See, that’s the catch. Even if you try to tell them the real after-effects of the Resurrection Vaccine, no one who matters will believe you. We’ve already sent out the vaccine. A truck left today, in fact. As for the supposed effects of the vaccine, we have document after document to prove the veracity of our claims.”

  She spent the next hour making me memorize facts. I admit, I pretended to have trouble accomplishing the task, relishing in her frustration. She couldn’t be sure I feigned it, especially since she withheld the restroom break until I cooperated. So she went through it all again.

  I grew bored with the game after the hour. “Look, Andrea. Even if I write all of that, there’s no guarantee anyone’s going to print it. I’m not a journalist, freelance or otherwise. How do you envision me getting it printed? And what time is it? I really need to go to the bathroom.”

  Robins walked in just in time to hear. Arrogant ass that he was, he answered. “We’ve an assistant editor in place at the New York Times and USA Today, princess. It’ll be published. No reason to worry your pretty little head over it.” If I could’ve ripped his vocal chords out, I would’ve for his tone alone. I was in pain. Every inch of my body felt like a chew toy for a Doberman. My anger at him pushed the pain to the side for a moment.

  “I’m not worried. I’m trying to see how much time I have before I put my fist down your throat and rip out your lungs for being such an asshole.” Secretly, I was grateful for his appearance. He was not nearly as scary as Andrea.

  He went to backhand me. Gene stopped, hand drawn back. He looked at Andrea, who stood with an eyebrow raised, very much in control. Robins put his hand down without hitting me. I smirked. He growled.

  I recognized a power struggle when I saw one. If Robins wasn’t feeling his oats, I was sure Andrea would’ve let him hit me. It would only increase my pain. But for him to hit me without her permission in the middle of the power play would undermine her authority over me and him. I grinned.

  Foolish, I know, but Robins had always rubbed me the wrong way. Andrea leaned over and kicked my shredded shin with her pointed high-heels. My grin vanished with an, “Oomph!”

  Now he grinned, the shit.

  “Let me go to the bathroom.” I talked very slow, like I spoke to an idiot.

  Andrea let me out against Robins’ protestations. Maybe I should be grateful to him. I didn’t know and didn’t care. I wobbled as fast as I could to the bathroom on my healing broken leg and sat down. The relief was so great, my jaw ached from the release of tension. I finished up and washed my hands. Funny how even the simplest tasks became meaningful when freedom was taken from you. I got more water from the sink and took a drink while debating my next move. This was the first time she hadn’t escorted me in and I took full advantage.

  The shelf with the knives on it was within arm’s distance of the bathroom doorway. Not as good as the knife I’d lost, but it’d be better than nothing. My leg felt much better and odds were even the break was healed, if a little weak. I couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since she’d told me the time, but I guessed close to nine o’clock.

  If Andrea were a regular human, she’d be dead tired and off for some rest. But she wasn’t. She didn’t need much sleep. All I knew for sure, I couldn’t willingly sit in that chair again. I wouldn’t. I moved slowly to the door with my half-formed plan of grabbing a knife and fighting my way out. I didn’t know what time the cavalry was coming or if they would. For all I knew, the FBI mole had derailed the rescue plans. Either way, I had to get out.

  I stopped mid-s
tep. Maybe this visceral need to escape was what Joseph referred to. After all, they’d tortured him for two days. Although, now that I’d seen what they’re capable of, I knew they’d been playing with him. Joseph must’ve known I’d get to this point. That they’d let me loose to use the restroom or something and be desperate to make a break for it. Shit, double fuck and damn. I tried to think logically, but I couldn’t take it anymore. My kids were safely away. I had to try and escape.

  I took a deep breath and moved through the doorway. I grabbed a knife. Here goes nothing.

  Chapter 19

  Andrea’s back faced me as she quietly berated Gene. She honestly believed I’d been conditioned not to hurt her. I moved quickly, knife poised to stab her in the back of the head, but she must have sensed me. Turning, she blocked the killing blow. The knife sank into her arm. I twisted it and yanked it out. Andrea grabbed at it, but her blood slicked up the knife. Her hands slid over mine, slicing her hands in the process. It appeared to not phase her. She punched me in my sore cheek. Angry and determined, I refused to get back in the chair. Not this time. Not ever. I uppercut her with my fisted hand holding the knife. The blade sliced her cheek as I withdrew.

  She hissed at me, her eyebrows snapped together, and something cold seeped into her eyes. I prepared to swipe at her again. Andrea swung for a retaliation punch. My knife missed anything vital and connected with her arm again. When she looked at the blood running down her arm, she snarled. It was so animalistic, I stepped back in surprise.

  That was all she needed. She took full advantage of my momentary lapse. Her foot caught me in my cut-up shin, and she followed up by punching me in the gut. Nothing like getting nailed where she’d sliced and diced already. I doubled over, grabbing my stomach with my casted arm. I rushed her, head first. Bringing my hand with the knife out in an arc to stab her, it caught her in the ribs.

  She backed into Robins, who stumbled. They tripped over each other, leaving them unbalanced. I kicked the gun out of Robins’ hand and swung my knee into his face as hard as I could. Unfortunately, my injuries took some of the power out of the blow. Bright new pain flared down my leg. The knee to the face didn’t kill him, but it knocked him out. He fell, taking Andrea down with him.

  I ran—if you can call what I did running—for his gun laying in the doorway. When I picked up the gun, I lost the knife; my hand couldn’t grasp the slick, bloody handle.

  I ran out the door into the main warehouse and hid between the production lines. My recently broken leg protested my weight, but the vinyl cast supported it well. Crawling between the lines, I kept my head down. I didn’t know what weaponry Gene brought in with him besides the gun I stole. I tried to be quiet, but with casts on my left arm and leg, it became a fearful joke. There was no way Andrea wouldn’t hear me.

  I frantically looked for a place big enough for me to squeeze my sore body in. After what felt like an eternity, I contorted myself into a space in the undercarriage of one of the rubber mats moving product through the line. Hidden under the packaging line, I slowed my breathing and listened for Andrea.

  I heard nothing. No doubt she wasn’t worried about finding me. All she had to do was call in a few goons and they’d search the warehouse. I was gambling here. If Joseph didn’t arrive before her help did—I couldn’t think of what would happen. Pain radiated from my shin, making me shudder. The throbbing in my leg matched the pulsing in my ears.

  My blood was drying and the leather pants stuck to my skin, turning the blood into superglue. Squatting there, with my knees drawn up to my chin was extremely uncomfortable. The cast took up a lot of room and my other leg felt like it’d been caught in a meat grinder. Pain lanced up my leg and the muscles spasmed. I had to work on controlling my breathing as the agony increased in the uncomfortable position.

  No sound came from the main warehouse. My nerves were shot. Did Andrea move so quietly I couldn’t hear her, or had she stayed in the training room? Did she tend to her wounds or to Robins’? I didn’t know how many minutes passed before when her voice finally reached me, but each second stretched like an eternity. Since I didn’t hear a response in her pauses, I assumed she talked to someone on the phone. How long would it take Gene to recover? How long before they teamed up to trap me?

  Andrea stopped talking and this time the silence ran longer. Then I heard what sounded like someone dragging something heavy. She must have been dragging Robins out of the room.

  “Bravo, Serena. I really wish we were on the same side. You have more heart than any of my men, especially this one here.” First, the sound of rustling clothes, then I heard crepitus. Oh shit. My mind imagined the worse. There are only a few reasons to hear the crackling of bone on bone. I highly doubted she was busy performing exuberant CPR.

  “This one”—drag—”has been a thorn”—drag—”in my side. He had his uses”‘—drag—”but his prejudices”—drop—” made him unstable once the virus mutated to the next stage. As I told him before, we have better people in place now.” Andrea used her lab-rat-doctor voice for the last part. Chills crept down my spine.

  No. No. No.

  I refused to let my fear spike. She’d smell it and find me, even if she never turned on the lights. The pain helped me push my fear to the background. But it wouldn’t last long, especially in the dark. Speaking of. Even if she waited for her goon squad, why didn’t she turn on the lights? Feeling like a trapped rat with no cheese at the end of the maze, my mind began desperately searching for ways out. I had no idea which doors lead where. Come on, Joseph. Where are you? You have to come.

  Shit and fuck. It hit me. She’d only broken one of Robins’ bones. I hadn’t heard her stabbing him. She wasn’t trying to kill him, exactly. Or rather, she was. She’d made him into a full zombie.

  Who knew how long the transformation took after death with the Ultimate Virus. Like all viruses, everything depended on the infected person. I’d seen people who’d risen after a week in the mortuary.

  Seeing it back then made me wonder how many zombies were scratching their way out of graves. I shuddered at the memory. I’d pretty much avoided cemeteries ever since. Andrea said Robins had moved into the next stage of the virus. I didn’t know how she knew, but didn’t doubt her. But if that were true, he progressed quickly. Most people didn’t move into the next stage so fast if they’d caught the Ultimate form.

  Only those with the AIDS infection progressed in stages like that, and they never resurrected. I wondered if the attack on Robins and his partner had been a test of the new strain. I’d have to bring it up if Joseph arrived. No, not if, when. I had to believe he’d make it. In the meantime, all the speculation helped keep my fear under control.

  It didn’t do a thing to help me get out of there.

  In the minute everything ran through my mind, Andrea had apparently found a gun. I heard the click of a bullet loading into the chamber. Great. Would this night ever end? If I showed my head, she’d blow it off. If I stayed put, the zombie would scent me out like a dog finding a buried bone.

  I rested my forehead on my knees and tried to think through the pain and raw fear. This was the nastiest situation I’d found myself in. I admit, I’d gotten used to my above average strength and healing powers, and perhaps, gotten a little cocky. The thing was, if you had a bunch of Hulks fighting, there was no “above average.” Everything boiled down to who had the best fighting skills.

  I’d honed my skills over the last few years, but it didn’t compare to the military training Andrea’s men had, or the FBI. Think, Serena, think. You have to get out of here. With the virus, the knock out drug, and the hypnotic drug, preferably. There. Pep talk over. Now what was I going to do to accomplish everything?

  I lifted my head and scouted the warehouse. Across from me were vials. In the dark, I couldn’t tell if they were empty or full, even with my eagle eyesight. The virus should be easy to locate. It had to be stored nearby. But where were the other drugs?

  The office, maybe? Andrea’s offic
e was up the flight of rickety metal stairs that scraped and groaned when you looked at them wrong, of course. Ever since the Suits kidnapped me, things in my life had pretty much sucked. I needed to rip them a new one if I ever saw them again.

  I fervently wished for my simple life of killing suck-ass zombies who were going around killing people. I hated all this intrigue. Why isn’t Andrea saying anything? Sensations crawled across my skin like the jolt of a nine volt battery on my tongue, except not so contained and focused. Where was she? I squashed the temptation to make a noise and push the confrontation before Robins had a chance to rise from the dead. If he took too long, Joseph and the cavalry would hopefully arrive, negating Andrea’s advantage.

  What was taking so fucking long? They should have been there already. In the dark with the warehouse on shutdown, there were no civilians to worry about as collateral damage. Which also meant no one around to juice up my protective instincts and help tamp down my fear. The smell of blood off my legs wafted to my nostrils just then and I froze. What if she smells it? Come on Serena, think of something else. Not like a distraction was hard to find.

  The next idea that popped in my head sucked. Maybe the FBI was trying to get the drugs first and I was their decoy. That would be just like the Fucking Bad Information asses. It was most likely a contingency of my rescue. Retrieving the drugs affected national security. Me, I was nobody important to them—other than the terrorists wanted to use me to spread the virus.

  A buzzing sound caught my attention. Andrea’s phone?

  “What? You’re sure? It was Serena and Joseph? Good work. I’ll talk with you more about it later.” She snapped her phone shut and laughed.

  That laugh didn’t bode well for my future. Any news she heard regarding me and Joseph eliciting that response couldn’t be good. I was dying to ask. Well, no I wasn’t. I’d like to know, but not enough to expose my hiding place.