Serena Rogue (Book 1): Zombie Infestation

by Bushman, LJ

  “Here’s your wallet. Where are the numbers and the password to get in to get my kids?” He leaned over and whispered in my ear. I was afraid I reddened. “I have to say that to your mom?”

  He smiled the rogue grin I became familiar with at the hotel. A frown replaced the smile. What started as a perfunctory search for a paper he knew was there, turned into a frantic mauling of his wallet.

  “It’s gone.”

  “So. It’s just the bank numbers, you can get them again.”

  “Not just those numbers, but my license. Someone has my home address and that’s where the kids are being kept. Oh hell, I’m sorry, Serena. I don’t know who did this.”

  When I had him lay down again, I sat by his bed and rested my check on his hand. I fought back the tears, even though rage screamed inside my soul.

  Well, that settled it. Dead guy in my car or not, I was headed to Joseph’s to get my kids.

  Chapter 23

  I managed to return to my car without getting side-walled by the Deputy Director or dead people on crack. I rummaged through my pack which, thankfully, remained in my car. I didn’t have everything I needed. One pack remained in Mexico at the hotel. One more mess to fix. At least I still had my backup.

  I pulled out a knife, my gun of choice, and a t-shirt. Yanking the gown off, I threw the shirt on and hoped no one got a free show. Now I wore leather shorts with a gun in the small of my back, another in the front, and a knife in my back pocket, all covered by a long t-shirt. Not going to win any fashion prizes today.

  I sat uncomfortably in the car and headed out on the road again. I couldn’t remember exactly how to get to Joseph’s, but I remembered the address.

  “Al, you know how to get to West Bourbon Street?”

  He glanced at me and then out the window until we passed a sign, and started giving me directions. As we neared, I realized I was nodding off. I turned off the road at the first McDonald’s I found and ordered a Quarter Pounder—no cheese, of course—with fries. I ordered Al one straight up.

  He looked at it funny when I handed it to him, then proceeded to eat it. He refused the fries, but did drink some of his coke. Good. Maybe I could keep him from getting hungry enough to eat someone against my commands. I gobbled my food and even munched on his fries as I reiterated the need for directions to West Bourbon Street.

  It was only a few more minutes before we arrived. The house was dark. I parked across the street and turned off the car. Everything appeared fine, so I stayed in the car and told Al to stay with me. He sat like a robot, looking forward. I watched the house for signs of movement and the neighborhood for anything out of place. Stake outs, got to love them. I wished I’d ordered another coke, though.

  I also wished I had my phone to call Riverson and get an update or search online for reports on the vaccine. Or play Tetris. Anything besides sitting there with nothing to do but wonder if the zombie would to go ape shit on my ass or if someone planned to attack my kids.

  Frustration and worry gnawed at my belly. This had to end. I wanted to take my kids and go home. I wanted the virus destroyed and an antivirus distributed for the cases already out there. I put my hands on the steering wheel and hung my head.

  What if there was no antivirus? I decided, when the mission was over, I’d start searching for a scientist willing to find or produce an antivirus. Not sure how I’d manage it, but there had to be someone out there who would a) believe me, and b) not tell the government I was Immune. I feared I’d set an impossible task for myself, but the human race was on the brink of getting wiped out by a miracle cure. I had no other choice than to try my best.

  I started to nod off, my body craving sleep to heal, when something caught my eye. The short hedges near Joseph’s place moved, and they seemed darker than before. Not an absolute indicator, but I took my gun out, checked to make sure my knife was in place, and stepped out of the car. Before shutting the door, I told Al to get out, be quiet, and get ready to fight. I motioned for him to follow me to Joseph’s yard.

  I sneaked around the hedge, and slowly moved deeper into the yard. The front and back yards were clear, absolutely nothing. I knocked on the back door.

  After a couple minutes, I heard a feminine, “Yes?”

  “It’s Serena. I’m Seth and Kyle’s mom.”

  “What’s the password?”

  I looked at Al. Yeah, he was a zombie, but his brain was still intact.

  “Cover your ears,” I whispered to him.

  “It’s a—” I’d kill Joseph for this. But I saw his reasoning. It had nothing to do with the case, except the night we spent together at the hotel. My face warmed as I finally worked the nerve up to answer with the words that would give me a free pass. If she remained at the door. “The clit is the best part.”

  I heard the chains and a thud of a bolt as she prepared to let us in. Even with the password, she barely opened the door and checked us out. She didn’t seem to like the look of Al.

  “He’s mostly harmless,” I said. “He’s had some sort of hypnosis and now does what I tell him to do.”

  She reluctantly opened the door. It was then I saw the nine-millimeter in her hand.

  “Nice piece.”

  “Thanks. It’s my old service piece. I have a new one, but a desk job doesn’t require the use of my weapon much.” I could see why Joseph had no problem with me being a tough cookie. He was used to strong women. Even though it was late and I probably woke her up, she wore jeans and a shirt.

  “Thanks for keeping my kids safe,” I tried to say nonchalantly, but tears choked me; safe wasn’t said clearly.

  “Dear, I’m a mother and a protector. I know what you’re feeling. Here, sit,” she said, indicating a chair at the kitchen table. “I have some food I can make. What does your friend need to eat?”

  I started to relax as she puttered, but her question sent a burst of adrenaline through me. “Why do you ask?”

  She gave me a chiding look and I felt abashed. I wasn’t sure who the last person to make me feel that way with a simple look was, but I felt like I was ten years old again and told a monster fib to my father. But she didn’t scold me.

  “It’s obvious he’s different. Now, what do we need to feed him,” she said in even tones.

  “I fed him a Quarter Pounder with cheese on the way here, and he did okay with that. But I think they need more food, just like in life.”

  “They?”

  “The Infected.” I figured she had the right to know. She already realized the dead guy wasn’t completely human.

  “Explain,” she said, pulling food out of the refrigerator. As she cooked, I gave her a brief run down.

  “That explains a few of the perps who’ve come in lately. They’ve been crazy strong and hungry, yet their blood work comes back clean from any known drugs.”

  Interesting experience to be talking shop with Joseph’s mother. Especially after the words her son had chosen for the safe phrase. “That’s the key, right there. There’s no known test for it. A select, secret few know of the test needed, and they’re guarding it like a dog over his bone.”

  And I couldn’t reveal it, or they’d realize I was Immune. Such a quandary I was in because of man’s need to go to war with each other. I hated thinking about it. How many lives had they fucking destroyed already? The accidents the participating governments caused in the name of war were going to kill the whole human race. And they’d done such a good job at their scare tactics that the entire world willingly signed up for the miracle cure.

  Frustration ate at me. I wasn’t one who did well with the whole “accept the things I cannot change” line of the serenity prayer. It felt better to do something other than sitting on my thumbs. I looked over to Al to see how he was taking things.

  He watched Joseph’s mother intently. To me, he looked hungry.

  “Uh, I didn’t get your name?” I started.

  She turned around to answer and saw Al’s intent look. “I’m Janessa. Here, take this for y
our friend.” She put not–quite-cooked eggs, sausage, and bacon on a plate. Handing me the plate with a fork on it, Janessa left me to deal with my friend, as she called him.

  Al looked at the food like a puppy who really wanted it, but knew it would be in trouble if it jumped.

  I slid the plate toward him and said, “Eat.”

  He stared at me with near worship before digging in. He used the fork, but forks weren’t real helpful with runny eggs. Before I knew it, Al was licking the plate.

  Janessa turned around. She smiled, handing me my plate. “Looks like you’ll be sharing your eggs.”

  It was like having the kids around. I supposed there were similarities. Except Al’s tantrums were deadly. I forked over half of my eggs onto his plate and inhaled my portion with slightly better manners than he’d showed, but not much. She could cook. Joseph had inherited a lot of his skills from his mother.

  Janessa tossed me an apple and put a couple more eggs on Al’s plate. After the burger, this was perfect. I was full and felt my body rejuvenating.

  Peeking over at Al, he seemed pretty content now. Weird. I was afraid to find out how his body would process the food. Books and movies never really addressed zombie shit. I mean, they had all these zombies eating flesh, so presumably the body processed it somehow. Yet their bodies deteriorated and you never saw them defecating. So what did the body do with all the fat and gristle? It was a conundrum, and one my kids theorized about as well.

  “Serena? Are you okay?” Janessa concern etched across her face.

  “Yeah, fine. Why?”

  “You spaced out for a minute. I think you’re tired. Why don’t you lie on the couch and I’ll take care of Al. I have his number,” she added as I was about to protest. “I can read him as well as you can, dear. He starts looking intent, I’ll feed him. I’ll also show him the bathroom. If you can kindly make sure he’ll listen while you’re asleep?” Her voice was gentle. With a spatula in her hand instead of a nine-millimeter, it was harder for me to remember she was a tough cop.

  “Al. Janessa is going to take care of you while I sleep. As my gift, I ask that you treat her with respect. When I wake up, I will be in charge again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh joy, like I said, another child. “What, exactly, is clear?”

  “Janessa will give me food and what I want while you sleep, and I will be nice to her.”

  Something didn’t sound right, but I okayed it anyway and laid down. I was almost asleep when the problem with his understanding popped out at me.

  “Al!”

  “I’m right here,” he said.

  “Janessa will make sure you have prepared food and show you where a bathroom is if you need it and help keep you safe. She will not be giving you everything you want.”

  His face drooped, again reminding me of a child. I must remember he wasn’t a child. His brain function had reverted to the basics. If he needed it to survive, he retained it. Tactical smarts remained intact. Deadly force and the know-how to use it, as well. He was under hypnosis, not stupid. The hypnosis made him so literal, not his intelligence level.

  Janessa, not an idiot herself, widened her eyes as she understood the implications of him believing she was to give him anything he wanted. Especially when it came to food. Yep, there it was. For the first time, I smelled fear on her. I also smelled Al’s excitement at her fear.

  Yeah, maybe sleep wasn’t such a grand idea after all. Refueling from the food alone would have to do.

  “Janessa, I changed my mind. I’m not going to sleep. Would you mind seeing if there’s any hamburger in the house? I think Al and I should have some red meat. And don’t be afraid. It’ll only make things worse,” I added, pointedly glancing at Al.

  “I see. Hamburger sounds lovely,” she said as she hastily moved to the kitchen.

  Al moved to follow her, but I held him back with my hand.

  “Let’s wait in here where it’s more comfortable. I think you need some rest too. Sit in the Lazy Boy there and put your feet up.” He did as instructed and leaned back comfortably. One disaster averted.

  I started to relax again when a shrill noise permeated the house. The phone. Joseph’s mom answered it. “Well, at the moment I have five dogs, but they’re not mine. I’m taking care of them.” Al’s eyes perked up at her phrasing. He sure seemed to like the idea of being taken care of.

  She said a few other things related to the care of dogs before hanging up.

  “That was Joseph. He’s leaving the hospital and coming here in a taxi. He refused to stay in the ICU like the doctors want.” Her frustration rang loud and clear. I could almost hear her thoughts: Stupid macho men who couldn’t stay at the hospital. Didn’t he know she could take care of herself? I’d have bet half the royalties of my next book, if I were a betting person, words to that affect ran through her head.

  I didn’t blame her. Similar thoughts rolled through my mind. Joseph knew she could take care of herself as well, so why come home? Even if they had his license, with a mole in the FBI, it wouldn’t have taken much for them to get his home address, so it shouldn’t matter. There must be more he discovered during my days of torture than he’d been able to tell me.

  Even knowing Joseph was on his way, the knock on the front door startled us. “Mom, it’s me. I’m going to use my keys, so please don’t shoot. Warn Serena as well,” he said, humor coming through his last statement.

  Despite his warning, we moved to opposite sides of the entryway and held our guns ready. He came through the door nice and slow, pulling his keys out of the lock methodically. We didn’t lower our guns until he shut the door and said the safe passage words.

  I blushed furiously as he added, “I didn’t know if the kids were awake or would’ve said it outside.”

  His mom looked from me to him, and I would swear she knew what we’d done in the way mothers the world over have of knowing things about their kids.

  “Joseph Frederick Connelly, what are you doing out of the hospital?” Uh-oh. The mom voice. He was in trouble.

  But as I looked at him, he appeared fine. Hardly like a man recovering from surgery. Shit and damn. Confirmation.

  He was an Infected.

  Good news, it wasn’t likely he’d died on the operating table and had been revived, or he wouldn’t have healed so fast.

  “It wasn’t as bad as they first thought. They didn’t put me under all the way before digging out the bullet,” he explained with a shrug.

  His mom was no dummy, and I saw her wheels turning. “Let me see the wound.”

  “Mom,” he said drawing out the syllable like a teenager. “You’re embarrassing me. I’m big enough and old enough to know when I can leave the hospital.”

  She obviously didn’t like his flippant response. “Last I heard, you were in ICU so don’t ‘Mom’ me, son. What’s so important you had to come home instead of finishing the night at the hospital?”

  The grin on my face was probably not polite or appropriate, but I loved watching him squirm. He was so strong and independent.

  “There’s too much going on for me to hide out in the hospital. Besides, the Deputy Director came by and told me my undercover writer had been shot at and was running around with no clothes on.”

  He perused me up and down. “I see you have clothes of a sort on. When we have more time, you’re going to tell me what happened to your leg, and we’re going to make sure whoever did that to you is punished.”

  I glanced down at my legs. I’d forgotten about my shin. It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as before. The food had done wonders for my body’s healing ability, but my leg remained a network of patchwork scabs. I looked into Joseph’s eyes to confirm a suspicion. Yeah, he was furious. He understood, if I still had scabs, then they’d done other things to keep me from healing, like starve and drug me.

  Unfortunately for him, and me, I think, his career in law enforcement gave him entirely too clear an idea what people were capable of doing to each o
ther. I was suddenly very glad his fury wasn’t directed at me.

  “Yes, well, when we have more time. For now, I have a wrinkle to introduce you to,” I said as I stepped to the side so he could see Al lounging in Joseph’s Lazy Boy. “Al, this is Joseph. You must obey him as you would me. Joseph, this is Al.”

  The expression on Joseph’s face was priceless. Being Infected, he could sense what Al really was. The next to the last thing one expected to find in their living room was a living, not breathing, zombie. The last thing one expected was to see one sitting docile in a recliner.

  “My gift from Andrea,” I said to his unspoken question. “He does what I say, but exactly what I say, to the letter.”

  “Why? How?”

  I crossed my arms defensively as I thought of the ways Andrea ensured obedience. I didn’t want to talk about it. I really didn’t. But I had to, so he understood how much worse things were.

  “Andrea hypnotizes them while they’re alive, after giving them the vaccine. They’re subjected to torture and mind control techniques involving drugs. Your director knows what kind. She started the training on me, but since the director was in his undercover role as chef-meister, he neglected to add the final ingredient which has to be taken orally to finish the process. Without it, the hypnosis falls flat.”

  I watched him assimilate the information at rapid-fire speed and saw when he came to the same conclusions I had. “That means—” He stopped as if the thought was too atrocious for words. And it was. I’d had more time to assimilate it, so I finished for him.

  “That means we have an unknown number of men and women, many in the military, specifically programmed to follow her commands—including the subtext of doing her no harm. And, from what I’ve seen, the person may not even be aware of what she’s done. So the mole in the FBI…” I trailed off, wanting him to think it through the next step.

  “The mole may not even know they’re doing it.”

  The silence thickened around us.