Serena Rogue (Book 1): Zombie Infestation

by Bushman, LJ

  When the one shot didn’t stop him, Andrea emptied a magazine into him, mostly in his chest, judging by the way his torso jolted. I wondered if she bought her own press and believed the Infected were unstoppable. Slowly, I stood and took careful aim. I shot Robins through the ear. At least, I tried. He sensed me at the last second and stopped in his tracks. Rather than his ear, it whizzed by his head, snapping off his nose. He screeched and reached to cover his exposed nasal cavity.

  I ducked and crawled under the line, closer to his position. Hopefully he’d pass by when he came after me. He started his shuffle walk again—shwoop-clop—as his foot came down too hard to compensate for his injured leg. Robins shrieked and raised an arm. He must be close to Andrea, judging by the sound of her heels as she moved away.

  A bunch of armed men crashed through the door yelling, “FBI.” Their flashlight beams bounced around the white walls and metal inside the warehouse. They might as well have said, “dinner” to the enraged zombie. He headed straight for them and their pinpoints of light, crawling over the conveyor belt systems in a flurry of rage and bellowed cuss words.

  I stood in a crouch to peer between the lines, ready to run, but otherwise stayed put. It didn’t take any credentials to yell that you were police. Nor did yelling it make one the police. For all I knew, this was a tactical plan by Andrea and her cohorts. Besides, I didn’t want to get hit when bullets started flying after they realized good old Robins wasn’t going to freeze.

  “Freeze or we’ll shoot!” another voice rang through the massive, open space.

  I was almost convinced they really were the cavalry. Robins vaulted over the last production line and kept heading toward the men. A barrage of gunfire echoed harshly in the warehouse.

  I sensed someone close behind me, away from the main action. I turned with my gun up, ready to fire. Their face remained in the shadows, but someone was definitely there.

  “Serena, it’s me,” the shadow said.

  “I don’t know what universe you’re living in, but I don’t recognize you. Who’s me?” I whispered. I wasn’t about to put my gun down.

  The voice sounded male, light glinted off a bald head.

  “Serena, I gave you Pepsi with one of your meals,” he said hurriedly.

  “Raphael?”

  “Only when I’m here undercover. I’m with the FBI. I’m the deputy director of the El Paso office—Joseph’s boss.”

  “Why in the hell should I believe you?” We were both furiously whispering. I didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention, but I also wasn’t about to trust anyone just because they said so.

  “Because, if it wasn’t for me, you couldn’t resist Andrea. I was supposed to put something in your food that works in tandem with the other chemicals.”

  He had my attention. “How does that work?”

  “After each session, the subject must be given a certain substance to seal the deal, so to speak. It does something in the brain as it interacts with the chemical in the shots. I don’t know all the details. That’s as much as I was able to get out without blowing my cover.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Deputy Director Mason Riverson.”

  Wow. Full title introduction. Joseph managed to get the top brass here. I liked the way he pulled strings. However, he’d been around the compound during my involuntary incarceration. I wasn’t ready to jump on his bandwagon just yet. Besides, I’ve heard royals who’ve spoken kinder. You’d think he was the Queen of Sheba by his tone and the way he looked at me. “And,” I asked; he seemed to need acknowledgement.

  “We’ve been trying to uncover the person behind the operation. Andrea’s the front person, the face of the Resurrection Vaccine.”

  “If you think it’s a vaccine, why are you after them?”

  “I don’t think it’s a simple vaccine. The use of the other drugs for those who’ve been exposed to this so-called vaccine proves it. Now we need to gather proof that’ll stand up in a court of law.”

  “Can’t you hold them for kidnapping until you do?”

  “It takes more than that, my dear. We’ll start with that, but it won’t be enough. I need details and the front-runner of this operation. Kidnapping charges are a drop in the bucket.”

  Shit, he was pompous when not in character. Did the FBI breed them that way during training? While debating the merits of his words, I stood there with my gun pointed at him. The gun was getting heavy since I had to use it one-handed. Riverson’s eyes widened. It was the only warning I had.

  I pivoted around on my leg not encased in a brace and fired. My aim was for a head shot, but the guy was taller than I’d expected. Wait, not a guy. Another fucking zombie. It looked like the guy from the safe house. Just fucking peachy. Well, I’d wondered how much worse the night could get. Missing the headshot added to my bad mojo.

  I aimed and fired again, this time catching him between the eyes. His head jerked back and he stopped walking. But he didn’t stop staring at me. A grin spread across his discolored face. His teeth were stained; the light from the FBI’s flashlights reflecting off his teeth didn’t look like it came off pearly whites.

  I tried not to think about what stained his teeth. I was fairly certain it wasn’t Folgers. He started toward me again. I fired. This time I nailed him through his mouth. The left half of his face blew away from the cheekbone down, but still, he advanced. I shot again, backing up. A hand grazed my back. A scream lodged in my throat before I remembered the man I knew as Raphael was on my side. I hoped.

  The zombie grabbed my arm cast and tugged me closer. It didn’t work well. The cast was too large to grip. I brought the cast up and slammed it across the intact side of his face.

  It knocked him off balance. I jumped away and called to Raphael, “You have a knife on you?”

  I glanced his way and saw him reaching behind his back. Turning, I watched Raphael and the zombie. Raphael pulled out a large hunting knife. I grinned.

  “Will this work?”

  “That’ll do,” I said as nonchalantly as possible.

  I took the knife and circled to the backside of the zombie, but he turned his back to the conveyor belt. He held up a knife in one hand; his other hand flexed into a claw. We fought for a few minutes, the zombie’s superior training warring with my training and intellect. He obviously had no wish to fight, just to kill.

  The smell of decay permeated the zombie. I attacked him, trying to cut through the back of his neck. He blocked me and turned to face me. Raphael tapped him on the shoulder, then swung. Hard. The zombie dropped to his knees.

  The damn thing reached out and grabbed my bloodied leg. His nails hooked where my pant leg was ripped and dragged down over the open wounds. I yelled like a banshee and kicked. He couldn’t retain his hold on me as his body flew back into the line with a sickening squish. I started for him. Raphael, or whoever the fuck he was, tried to stop me.

  “It’s finished,” he said, no longer whispering.

  “No, it’s not. It’s not finished until you’ve stuck a knife through their skull. Sometimes, not even beheading will work. I don’t know why,” I added through gritted teeth, cutting off another question from him. I jerked my arm out of his grasp and reached for the zombie. Grabbing a handful of hair, I shoved the knife up into his skull, severing the brain from the spine and cutting through the lower lobes as well. Blood spattered on my arms.

  “Now he’s dead.” I turned away, searching for Joseph. He wouldn’t send the cavalry without leading the charge, would he? Robins’ body lay sprawled over the last line. The FBI SWAT team circled around the building, likely trying to secure it.

  I shook my head. They hadn’t secured the threat yet. Until all of the supposed dead had their brain stems separated, we were in danger. It would take time and experience for them to figure it out. I didn’t have the energy to wait for them to play catch up. We needed to find Andrea.

  I stopped in my tracks. During my scuffle with the zombie, I couldn’t hear her
move. No one else had any clue she was here. Shit.

  “Raphael,” I said, whispering again.

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “We need to find Andrea. I’ll head back toward the stairs; you start there, at the end of the conveyor belts. Give your men a heads up, will you?”

  He cursed low and got on the radio. A radio squawk filled the air before someone silenced it. Well I hoped they weren’t near Andrea’s new hiding place, or they were dead men.

  I heard the director curse more eloquently than before. “Damn it. There’s always one.”

  The next ten minutes were spent searching for Andrea. I stayed low around the lines and searched for any signs of her. No luck, but I wasn’t surprised. If I were her, I’d have changed positions as well. Maybe one of the other teams would find her. I didn’t hold my breath on that wish.

  When no one found her inside, the FBI team headed outside. Exhaustion pulled at me and my leg throbbed. I found a chair along the outside wall to sit and wait. I wanted to ask about Joseph and my kids, but decided not to. I had no idea why. Something told me I should wait to ask about my kids until I spoke with Joseph himself.

  I leaned my head back against the wall, keeping my gun in hand on my lap. It wasn’t long before the director found me.

  “We’ve got a problem. Andrea is missing.”

  Chapter 21

  After cussing in a multitude of languages, I turned to the pseudo chef-meister. “She’s impressive, isn’t she? Where’s Joseph?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer the first question. I needed to talk to Joseph and see my kids as soon as possible. However, for now, hearing about their safety would have to do.

  I glanced down at my leg, grimacing at the amount of blood. When he didn’t answer, I gave him a hard look. “Well, Deputy Director?”

  He looked at me a moment and I knew he assessed me. Eventually, he answered. “He’s outside. Someone shot him in the chest as we approached. Went through his vest.”

  I barely heard the end of his sentence as I rushed outside at a full-out run. I moved fast, using my superior speed with no care about who saw me or my injury. Not only did I care about Joseph, he was the only link I had to my kids.

  “Joseph!” I yelled as soon as I was out the double doors. “Joseph!”

  “Over here,” someone in emergency medical services uniform called out.

  I headed his way, ignoring the director’s shouts to stop.

  “He’s in bad shape,” the EMT said, stopping me a few steps away.

  I did my best to ignore the blood covering the gloves he stripped off, one inside the other. Neat trick. My mind balked at what that much blood might mean. I tuned back into what the EMT said.

  “The paramedic’s starting an IV, but Joseph insisted on waiting for you to ride in the ambulance with him. We wanted to do the IV’s before hitting the long, dirt road, so we humored him. Try not to excite him. We need to keep him calm and get the bleeding stopped.”

  I nodded, trying to see around him to Joseph. The stakes were higher than the EMT could possibly realize. If Joseph died, he’d come back and all the doctors and nurses would pat themselves on the backs, but it’d be a hollow victory. And a short one.

  As I moved to stand near Joseph, the Deputy Director clasped my arm. Really? Maybe I should give him a warning about FBI types grabbing me. I glared at him, and he dropped his hand. My expression said it all.

  “What’re you doing,” he demanded.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m riding with Joseph to the hospital.” I’d like to see him try and stop me.

  “We need you to come back to the bureau with us. You have to give a statement and I want you in protective custody.”

  “I’m going with Joseph. And it’ll be a cold day in hell before I go into protective custody with the FBI. In case you didn’t recognize the zombie chasing your men when you arrived, that was your Special Agent in Charge, Gene Robins, who also participated in my capture and torture. Don’t even get me started on the Suits and their kidnapping ploy that got me here in the first place. And you definitely don’t want me thinking about the danger my kids are in because of the agency’s incompetence at weighing the risks and warning their bait.”

  I watched with grim pleasure as his mouth opened and shut without speaking, like a fish gaping out of water.

  “You have to find the antivirus. I was told there’s an antivirus here somewhere. I don’t know if it’s true, but you better hope so.” My voice was harsh. I couldn’t help it. Some of the Resurrection Vaccine had already been shipped out.

  Andrea’s disappearance was the latest stick of dynamite in the works. If we didn’t get a handle on the truckload of so-called vaccine before they were delivered to clinics, the Infected would soon outnumber the humans. A true zombie nightmare.

  I pulled out my keys and handed them to the director. “Have one of your team drive it to the El Paso headquarters. I’ll pick it up there.” And pray they didn’t find the hidey holes with my weapons in the meantime.

  “I thought the antivirus was only something they said to lure you here. That’s what I heard while here as Raphael,” he replied.

  My heart jumped in my throat even though I’d already considered the possibility. “You better hope it’s a lie. Get your men tracking down that truck, or you’re going to have a country full of walking, talking, and powerful zombies on your hands.”

  Turning my back, I ignored anything else he wanted to say. I didn’t know where my kids were and didn’t give a shit about the rest of it right now. I needed to know Joseph would live. Preferably without dying first. I hopped up into the ambulance where they’d moved him while I spoke with the deputy.

  “Hey,” I said quietly.

  Joseph opened his eyes. “Hey,” he replied weakly. “My back pocket.” He coughed, the jagged gurgling sound that rattled out of him causing my throat to clog in fear as if I were the one injured.

  The paramedic pressed down on a wad of bandages covering the bleeding wound. “Take it easy, Agent Connelly. We’ve got a long drive and I need you to hold on for me. Okay, partner?”

  I smiled weakly down at Joseph. A lot of EMS workers talked down to their patients, as if the illness or injury also caused a loss of intelligence.

  Joseph reached for my hand. Unshed tears clogged my throat. He couldn’t die. I didn’t want to kill Joseph, even if he became a zombie. He squeezed my hand. “Don’t cry. It’s only a flesh wound. I’ll make it.”

  I hiccupped, trying to stop the tears swimming down my face. “I’m fine.” My voice came out barely a whisper. I saw the answering smile in his eyes; he knew I lied through my teeth.

  “Your kids are safe. They’re at the first place I took you after we stopped at my office.”

  The tears I’d barely contained unleashed again. He was a good man who didn’t deserve to die this way. We had to find the antivirus. I nodded so he knew I understood; the kids were at his place.

  “Thank you, Joseph. You saved my life and my kids’ lives. I’m grateful. Now don’t you go and die on me. We’ve got work to do.” I choked out the words, trying to be funny.

  He gave me a wan smile and closed his eyes. His breathing was sharp, but at least he still breathed. I watched him carefully. I didn’t know if I was ready to kill someone I knew and liked. Especially when I had time to contemplate it.

  I didn’t like Robins. It had been a definite life and death situation with him. Putting Joseph down would feel too much like murder. I held my hands over Joseph’s hand and willed him to get better. I didn’t notice how long it took to get to the base in the hills, but we traveled much faster now.

  Lights and sirens blazing, we sped down the road. Yet, I felt trapped in a slow-motion moment in time. I was glad the federales assisted the FBI. The EMS radio squawked and filled the silence in the ambulance. They’d called ahead and cleared us to cross the border. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The fact that it hadn’t occurred to me we would hit trouble
at the border transporting a man with a gunshot wound told me how tired I was.

  I tried not to worry over Joseph, but it was impossible. I’d slept with him, for one thing. It would take someone a lot more coldhearted than me to see someone I’d been intimate with slowly dying in front of my eyes and not feel anything. Plus, he’d come with the cavalry after ensuring my kids’ safety. Whatever happened, I owed him for that.

  I stroked his forehead with my fingertips. It was cold and clammy. That couldn’t be good. The paramedic took his vitals every five minutes, but otherwise left him alone. Joseph had an IV in his arm and a gauze pile on his wound, bloody as all get out. They never removed the old ones, only put new ones on as the blood soaked through.

  “Can’t we go any faster?” I knew it did no good to ask. Kind of like my kids asking if we were there yet. The pile of bloody gauze got to me—a red flag of doom.

  The EMT looked at me compassionately before saying no. Although I was glad he hadn’t ranted at me like I might have done to my kids, I felt horrible that he’d seen my anguish. I was supposed to be tougher than that, trained for it. I’d fought and killed too many zombies to count. Yet, I couldn’t keep myself under control for an ambulance ride?

  We finally slowed down. My heart raced. This was it. I held my breath as the border guards looked in the back of the ambulance and shut the doors. I didn’t release it until the vehicle moved again. Light-headed from the adrenaline crash, I fought for composure. At least I knew we were getting closer to the hospital.

  Just a short time now, I told myself. We’re close. A scream crept up my throat. I hoped the agent in charge of driving my car took good care of it and I was relieved to not be driving it myself. I was a wreck, even though I sat next to Joseph where I could see him. I could only imagine how my psyche would’ve handled having to follow him without knowing if he lived or died. Or if he’d turned.