Serena Rogue (Book 1): Zombie Infestation

by Bushman, LJ

  Andrea didn’t appear so confident. Now she had to be wondering who might be hiding and if it was a trap. She’d be stupid not to, and experience had taught me she was too smart to fall for any plan I may have cobbled together since arriving at the hospital. I wished the FBI had thought of planning a trap for her. For now, it would do that she thought it was in the works.

  “How much time until the others show?” She did a movement with her hands as she spoke, and Tweedledee reached for his weapon.

  I shot him between the eyes, followed by his brother. Their heads jerked back, even as their bodies collapsed onto their knees in a last fateful dance together. I prayed like hell that the ego boost she got with them enslaved to her had kept her from hitting them with the virus on the way over.

  “Who says I need any help?” It felt good to get one over the assholes who’d helped torture Joseph and myself. I slipped into the coldness that normally accompanied my zombie fights—the deep inside, survival-at-risk battle zone.

  Andrea saw it in my eyes. Her own eyes flickered a flash of fear before she masked it.

  “I’ve always respected your abilities, Serena. I want you on my side. Come with me. Together, you and I can show this world what women are capable of. No more crap simply because of our gender.” Her voice was soothing and I felt an answering pull. Ah, the hypnosis sessions.

  “Why? So we can be the type of mindless jerks who keep women from being recognized? No thanks. I’ll keep fighting the good fight, one zombie at a time.” It was amazing how much pull her voice possessed. Maybe I did owe Raphael one. I bit my tongue, blocking her mesmerizing voice with the pain.

  “You won’t win,” she said flatly. Andrea backed up slowly to the elevators she originally came up in. “My boss wants you on our side or dead. Make up your mind. I don’t know how many chances he’ll give you. In the meantime, consider the inept hitman a gift.”

  She stepped back into the open elevator, pressing a button as she stared me down. I held my gun on her until the doors closed. As soon as she was gone, I pointed both weapons at the zombie. He’d stood frozen ever since he’d heard Andrea’s voice. Now I had no idea what to do with him.

  Slowly, I sidestepped around him, moving toward the nurse’s station. He kept pace with me, turning as I turned, watching me like a dog waiting orders from his master. Yet his master just left. I put the second gun back in the waist of my pants and flexed my hand. I picked up the scissors I found on the nurses desk and hid the blade behind my forearm.

  “Why are you staring at me,” I demanded, confused and frustrated.

  “I’m awaiting your orders. I’m your gift to utilize,” he said flatly.

  Utilize? He was military in his other life. I groaned. Now I’d feel like I killed my dog. A smirk pulled at my lips, but I held it back. I doubted this was what Andrea meant by a “gift”—I had the distinct impression the gift she’d left was my death. Can’t be subtle with zombies. Who knew?

  “And if I tell you not to kill anyone and to go home and await further orders?”

  “I’ll await your orders at my home.” His voice sounded like an automated feed.

  That was wonderful. Maybe I could get the orders of “thou shalt not kill” fixated into his head.

  I hoped I could because I couldn’t kill my “servant” and at the moment, he was a mindless drone.

  “Come,” I said and jerked my head toward the elevators. “I need to get you out of here.” What I planned was crazy, but there were worse things than having a zombie at my disposal. I kept the scissors handy as a precaution, but he was as docile as a newborn babe.

  Wait. I needed a ride. “What’s your name?”

  “Al.”

  Okay. This is weird. But I rolled with it. “Al, wait a minute. I need to call a ride.”

  I called the FBI office again. I’d memorized the main number, but not the extension. The automated system finally patched me through to Lisa again. Too bad for her.

  “Lisa,” I said after she finished her answering spiel.

  “Yes,” she replied, surprised.

  “Who did you tell about my message regarding Agent Joseph Connelly and myself?” I heard the death threat in my voice. Although it wasn’t the plan when I dialed, it snaked through the phone lines and bit her in the ass.

  “Serena?” Her voice wavered and wobbled. Stall tactics. No one with kids over three fell for stall tactics.

  “You’re stalling, Lisa. Names. Now. And if I find out you knowingly put myself and Agent Connelly in harm’s way, you better turn yourself into the FBI. They’ll be a lot nicer to you than the things I have planned for traitors.” Nice, ambiguous threat. Should roll over okay if the call was recorded. I doubted it. I banked on her turning off the recording device as soon as she heard my voice.

  “I have a standing order from Special Agent Gene Robins to call him on his cell phone if any information comes in regarding Agent Connelly,” she said hastily, practically tripping on her words in an attempt to get them out.

  “Special Agent Gene Robins is dead. Who did you tell?”

  “I called his cell phone and a man answered. He said he was Special Agent Gene Robins. I swear. I only talked to him.” Her fear was palpable. So she wasn’t a traitor. At least, not knowingly. Shit.

  “Patch me through to the Deputy Director.”

  “I—I’m not supposed to do that.” Great. Now she was stammering. I could use the persuasive powers of my voice to soothe her. Having someone attempt to kill me put me in a bad mood. Go figure.

  “Someone’s been shot in the room you gave as my whereabouts at the hospital. So whoever you gave that information to, ordered a hit on me. Patch me through. Now, Lisa.”

  She fumbled through a couple of paltry excuses. “Lisa,” I said, the threat still in my voice. The other end went quiet as she patched me through.

  “Riverson,” a voice I was all too familiar with barked over the line.

  “This is Serena. I need my car brought to the hospital. And you need agents you can trust absolutely. Agents you’d hand over your children for safekeeping.”

  “Slow down, Serena. What’s going on?” His voice was calm and thankfully, he sounded wide awake.

  “I called your office and gave them instructions to tell you what room in the hospital I’m in and have you call me about Joseph. Guess what happened?” Sarcasm. I didn’t really think he had to guess.

  “Someone shot at you,” he said flatly. Wow. His work voice sent chill down my spine. He obviously knew about the mole, this proved it. He wasn’t happy. Good. I wasn’t exactly throwing confetti, either.

  “They shot a patient in the room next to mine. So hard to get good help these days.”

  “I’ll come myself. Connelly still in the ICU? I’m assuming that’s where they took him after the operation to remove the bullet.”

  “I’ve not heard anything officially, but yes. I think that’s where they said they were taking him. One nurse was talking about prepping a room for him.”

  “I’ll make sure. In the meantime, what are you going to do?”

  “Have your agent bring me my car. Like pronto. I need to get out of here.”

  “I’ll discuss that with you when I get there.” Geez, I bet he was a dad. He had the “you’ll do what I say or else” voice down and I didn’t think he tried.

  “Unless you want this zombie I’m toting around to get antsy and start eating people, you’ll send my car without any hassle. I’m not going to disappear on you. I have a vested interest in all this.” Like my kids.

  His silence was gratifying. I’d finally said something he was unprepared to deal with. Made me feel loads better about my confused feelings over a pet zombie.

  “I’ll have your car brought to the hospital. I still want to talk to you when I get there.”

  “Fine, but make it quick. Oh, and by the way,” I said with a false cheer. “There are fire engines and rescue rigs all over the place and people are fleeing right and left.”

>   I put the receiver down. That ought to make him hurry up. A zombie and a crowd of people at a hospital? He’d be there in minutes.

  “Hey, Al. Let’s get on the elevator. We’re going for a walk.” How I would get him out of there, without putting my gun away, I had no idea. I glanced around and then grabbed the gown I’d tossed earlier. With only a few choice cuss words, I shrugged into it, juggling a gun, a pair of scissors, and a broken arm. As malleable as Mr. Zombie seemed, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  We got into the elevator. “Press the L button,” I told him, and he dutifully did it.

  Well, his brain matter remained intact. It was crazy. He must have the Ultimate Virus. Interesting brain functions. I watched him as we descended. He didn’t even flinch. Nothing about his body, face, or mannerisms said he would go psycho biter on me.

  I chuckled inwardly. It would be sweet irony if Andrea’s mind games backfired on her and gave me a tool to use. The elevator doors opened and I cautiously peered out. The halls were clear. I heard yelling in the distance—it sounded like they were clearing the building. I tucked my gun into the front of my pants and held the scissors in my good hand.

  Al walked beside me, seemingly content to stay at the slow pace I’d set. We rounded a hallway where a sign conveniently pointed to the main lobby and the way out. We were about halfway down the hall when a police officer came from the other direction. Shit.

  “This building is being cleared. What’s taking so long?” he demanded harshly.

  “I’m having trouble moving fast. I’m having a sugar low.” Understatement. If I wasn’t careful, I’d faint again. “This is Al. He’s walking with me to ensure my safety.” Safety, ha! But the locals had no idea what they truly faced. And I had no idea what Al would do if he thought someone threatened me. I was a little worried, he’d become tense and rigid when the officer spoke to me in the less than flattering tone.

  He gave us a cursory once over, then nodded. “Have you seen anybody with a gun?”

  Since when? “Only you, officer.” And me. Oh, and my new partner here. But not since getting off the elevator upstairs. The things we tell ourselves. “Should we be worried?”

  “It’s nothing for a civilian to worry about. Just keep moving until you’re out of the hospital. Follow the directions of the emergency personnel right outside the main doors,” he said brusquely.

  “Thank you, officer,” I replied, falsely sweet. Al’s tension deflated after the officer changed his tune. I shook my head in disbelief and continued on down the hall.

  Once outside, we moved as directed—it was the best way to hide in plain sight. Plus, Mason Riverson was more likely to find us here. Gingerly, I took the zombie by his arm and guided him to the side of the crowd. I blew out a sigh of relief when we made it safely away from the building and the crowd of people with no mishaps from my new friend.

  It wasn’t long before Riverson showed up. The pompous ass. He strutted past the fire lines and police tape. Good thing there wasn’t a real fire in the hospital. I watched him and kept an eye on the crowd to see if anyone else took an undue interest in him. Couldn’t forget about dear Andrea.

  Riverson seemed clean from any tails–I snickered at the thought of him with an actual tail. He turned and looked right at me as if he heard. I waved a little, and he nodded. At least, I thought he did. He stood under the lights of the emergency entrance overhang, but he was still a ways away. I wanted to know where my car had been parked and what happened to Joseph. And I needed to get the zombie windup toy out of there before someone decided to push his buttons.

  I was antsy to the point of risking another trip through the crowd when my car pulled up almost directly behind me. I moved toward the car, but stayed a safe distance away until the agent stepped out of the car.

  “I’m Serena. This is my car. An old expired license is in the glove box.” The agent looked at me funny and for a moment, I was afraid he was with the wrong team.

  “I notice you have Washington plates. They let you keep your old licenses? Texas takes them.” He ducked down and reached into the glove box. He rummaged through the papers before coming across my license, his eyes on me and Al. Smart move on his part. It helped me to relax a little.

  He was cautious, but friendly. I liked him. When he straightened up with my license in his hands, he shined a pen light over it. The agent glanced up and smiled at me. “Serena Rouge, I hereby give you your car back,” he said with a flourish and an exaggerated bow. His charm pulled a smile out of my weariness.

  “Thank you. I didn’t catch your name?” A decent FBI agent. I’d met two now. I was on some kind of roll.

  “Agent Henry Pennington at your service, ma’am.” He winked as he handed me my license and the keys. I noticed the lights gleaming off his blonde hair and smiled wider.

  “I need to go. Thanks for your help, Agent Henry Pennington.” I flirted mildly, but he was a nice guy. If he was an ass, I would’ve reacted appropriately as well.

  As I turned to move to the car, I noticed a slackness cross Pennington’s face. No. No, no, no!

  Damn this stupid Immunity and its super powers. I sighed and turned Al so he faced the car. “See the white car? Get in the passenger seat. I’ll be there in a minute.” He dutifully walked to my car and did as I’d asked.

  I turned my attention to the nice Henry Pennington. “Henry,” I called harshly. Sometimes, it helped snap a guy out of his lovelorn helplessness. “Henry! The director needs your help to guard Joseph. Now move.”

  He blinked several times and his expression cleared. His facial muscles resumed their normal tightness.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t catch what you said.”

  “Deputy Director Riverson could use some help guarding Agent Joseph Connelly. The locals are stretched thin. He’s over there,” I said, pointing.

  He was able to turn his head from me without any undue reluctance. Good. “I see him. Thanks for filling me in. I’ll see you around.” He was halfway there when I realized I was still hiding Gene’s low-on-ammo gun.

  I went to the car. Al sat in the car facing forward with no seatbelt on. I stifled another sigh. I didn’t know when I had sighed so much when hunting zombies. Usually it was slam, bam, thank you ma’am, and I headed back home. Things were so much more complicated than before. I hoped I could go back to being a straight-up zombie killer soon.

  I got myself in the driver’s side and asked Al to buckle up. His face blanked of all emotion for a moment, and then he reached over and did it automatically. I wasn’t worried about his safety, just didn’t want to be pulled over. Who knew how tough Texas’ seatbelt law was enforced. Or if they even had one. Either way, it wasn’t worth the risk.

  I mulled over what to do with him. I wanted to see my kids. My mind knew they were safe if Joseph said so, but my heart ached to see them. No way could I walk up to my kids with dead zone here with me. So what options did that leave me?

  All at once, a light bulb went off in my brain, and I slammed on the brakes. I flipped a bitch in the middle of the road and headed back to the hospital. I had to get Riverson to take me to Joseph and the things he had come in with. My breath came in little gasps as I contemplated that I might be too late.

  In the ambulance, Joseph had said something about his back pocket. Whatever it was, I knew it was important. He wouldn’t have wasted his energy otherwise. Shit. I slammed my hand on the steering wheel. As I pulled up where the agent had dropped my car off, people gradually moved back into the hospital.

  I pulled up to the curb, facing the wrong direction, and told Al to stay in the car. I sure hoped he listened. Glad I’d left gun in my pants instead of throwing it in the glove box, I headed back inside.

  I couldn’t find Riverson. I stopped an orderly. “Excuse me. Are the ICU patients back yet?”

  The orderly appeared hassled at first, but seeing my gown, he softened his tone. I could tell by his eyes and facial expressions, he’d changed from annoyance to long-su
ffering in a heartbeat. “Yes, and most of them were never moved.”

  I didn’t stand there to listen to whatever explanation he offered—although I was sure it would have been fascinating—and headed deeper into the center of the hospital, following the signs until I hit an elevator that would get me to the ICU.

  For all the good it did me. The ICU was locked up with security just shy of that of Fort Knox. I stood in the hallway, looking through a small thin rectangular window, which skewed my sight, but allowed me to see they were extremely busy.

  Now what? I was about to go in search of Riverson when someone walked out and let the door go rather than making sure it was shut before walking off. I darted a quick glance around and skimmed through the door. I asked the first nurse I saw for Joseph. He pointed to another nurse.

  I asked that nurse. The nurse wanted to know who I was, and what I wanted with Joseph. “I’m the one who came in the ambulance with him. I was upstairs in my own room until the fire alarms went off.”

  “Name.”

  “Serena Rouge.”

  He glanced at me questioningly before checking a clipboard. “Okay, you’re cleared. Try not to disturb him.”

  I nodded, but he’d already walked off to show me the way. I dutifully followed him. Once there, I stopped and stared. He appeared so fragile with the IV’s and all the machines beeping. The paleness of his skin a stark contrast to his dark hair. For a moment, I thought he’d died. I rushed forward and grabbed his hand in both of mine. His eyes fluttered open. He woke the rest of the way when saw me.

  “My wallet,” he said. “It’s in my wallet.”

  “What’s in your wallet?”

  “The name of the mole and the bank account number that proves his involvement. And the code word for getting through my mother to reach the kids.” His voice revealed his weakness, but he still tried to sit up. “Where’s my wallet?”

  “Push the button. Let’s ask the nurse.” He punched the nurse’s button impatiently. When the nurse arrived, Joseph asked where his things were, and the nurse pointed to the patient closet. Well, duh. I went over and searched through the plastic bag in the closet until I found his wallet.