Zombie Uprising Series (Book 4): The Hybrid

by Robbins, M. A.

  The boy's gaze rose to meet Wayne's. "Jamarcus."

  He pointed to a thirty-something man sprawled at Biker Guy's feet. "That's Uncle Floyd."

  Biker Guy licked his lips and moved away from the body.

  "I'm sorry about your uncle," Wayne said.

  Not only hot, but Wayne's a saint, too? I feel like I'm stuck in the Hallmark movie from hell.

  Jen's heart ached for the boy.

  Rodriguez snapped his phone shut and stood. "Listen up. Cartwright's getting resources in New York to meet us when we stop. They'll quarantine the train and go through it car by car, but we'll be the first car."

  "Who's Cartwright?" Biker Guy asked. "For that matter, who are you suits?"

  "Homeland Security agents," Jen said. "All of us. And Cartwright's someone who can get shit done."

  Biker Guy eyed her up and down as if he'd just noticed her.

  "I'll vouch for you," Jen said. "You'll get out of here with us."

  Daniels' eyebrows rose and he exchanged a glance with Rodriguez, who shrugged.

  Biker Guy nodded. "You're a helluva fighter. What's your name?"

  "Jen. Jen Reed. And yours?"

  "Call me D-Day."

  Zeke smiled. "That's so cool. I want a name like that."

  "D-Day?" Jen asked.

  D-Day wiped a smear of blood off his forehead. "Did I stutter?"

  He grunted and sat on a dry section of seat, facing away from the others.

  Guess he's done talking.

  Jen checked the serum. Still there. Still intact.

  She sat next to the girl the rest of the way to New York City. She never said a word, even though Jen tried to get her name.

  The train rolled into the station. Armed law enforcement lined the platform, while a set of armed men in civilian clothes, each wearing a red arm band, stood in a group to the side. Militia. There has to be a hundred of them.

  When the train stopped, the militia members disappeared toward the rear cars. A squad of armed men dressed in black with helmets and vests approached their car, their rifles up and ready.

  Rodriguez stood at the door and pressed his badge to it. "Agent Rodriguez," he yelled through the glass.

  The SWAT leader spoke into a mic clipped to his shoulder, and a few seconds later, the door whooshed open.

  Rodriguez stumbled back as the squad rushed the car. Calls of "all clear" came from the SWAT members as they fanned out in the car.

  A man in a blue jacket with the letters FBI on it stepped in. "Agent Rodriguez?"

  Rodriguez raised his hand, then pointed at Daniels. "Agent Daniels."

  The FBI agent nodded. "I'm Hess. All the rest are with you?"

  "All except the kids and the biker," Rodriguez said.

  Hess stepped out the door and waved another agent over. "Get these kids to DCS."

  The little girl clutched Jen's neck so tight, she coughed. Prying the girl's arms away, Jen said, "Come on, honey. These people will take care of you."

  Tears rolled down the girl's face as the agent took her. She screamed, "I want to stay with you. I want to be safe."

  Jen swallowed and dropped her gaze to the floor. I'm the last person to be around if you want to be safe.

  11

  Hess led them to another platform, where a line of people waited to board a train.

  "This looks a lot more organized than Atlanta," Jen said.

  Hess nodded. "We have a ton of people wanting to get on, but we preprocess them a couple of blocks away. Only those who are boarding are allowed in the station."

  He walked right up the line to the front, where a couple of militia men with red armbands stood cradling AK-47 style guns.

  "National security," he said. "These folks go on first."

  One of the militia men eyed D-Day. "The big guy doesn't look government to me."

  D-Day stared the guy down and cracked his knuckles.

  "He's with us," Rodriguez said.

  There's a surprise.

  Rodriguez gave Jen a slight nod.

  "We can't fit him in this car," Hess said, "but we'll get him a seat a few cars back." He called a militia man over and pointed at D-Day. "Get the big guy in the closest car to number one that you can."

  "Yes, sir." The militia man led D-Day farther down the line of cars.

  An older couple stood at the front of the line. The lady was shooting daggers at the group with her eyes. "We paid to be here," she said. "It's a shame some people don't know their place."

  This bitch would make a good zombie.

  One of the militiamen guarding the train pointed to the first car. "Go on in," he said to Rodriguez.

  Rodriguez waved them on. Zeke pushed past the old couple and gave the lady one of his patented silly grins. She scowled.

  They entered the car and Jen plopped onto the back seat and adjusted the serum bag on her belt. Zeke went to sit next to her, but Wayne slipped in first. Zeke frowned and took the seat in front of them.

  He turned around, his arm on the back of the seat. "Do you think we'll see some action up north?"

  Jen sighed. "I hope not. Shit's stressful enough as it is. I wish I knew how it's going on the front."

  Zeke shrugged. "Call Howell."

  "Howell?" Wayne asked.

  "He's our contact at the Pentagon," Jen said. "He'll give us the straight poop."

  Rodriguez and Daniels took seats on either side of the aisle in the middle of the car. They leaned across the aisle and spoke in low tones.

  "Are you going to call him?" Wayne asked.

  Jen broke from her thoughts. "Who?"

  "Howell," Zeke said. "We were just talking about him."

  "Oh, yeah." Jen pulled her cell phone from her pants pocket and flipped it open. She scrolled down the list of pre-programmed contacts. All the members of the team were listed as well as Cartwright, Mark, and Howell.

  She highlighted Howell's name and pressed the Call button. It rang on the other end.

  A click, then "Howell here."

  "Sergeant Howell, it's Jen."

  "Jen. I heard you had a hard time getting out of Atlanta."

  Jen laughed. "Nothing compared to making our exit from Spokane."

  "I heard that," Howell said. His voice became serious. "I've got a ton of shit going on here, what can I do for you?"

  Jen swallowed. "What are we headed into?"

  "In Boston? Big city with some small outbreaks here and there, but they've been keeping the lid on it."

  "That wasn't a small outbreak in Atlanta," Jen said. "I saw how it started, and it spread faster than Big Bertha's ass at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I don't want to imagine it happening like that elsewhere."

  Howell didn't answer.

  "Howell, you still there?"

  His voice lowered. "I'm seeing that same pattern. I know the brass are worried about it, but they can't break any forces off to go back east and deal with it. Did you know Boise and Las Vegas fell?"

  Shit. "But what if we have an outbreak here that can't be put down?"

  "Then we're lost," Howell said.

  Jen frowned. If I didn't know Howell, I'd think he's losing hope. "I'll get this serum where it's supposed to go and we'll shut this shit down before it gets too bad."

  "We're all counting on you, Jen," Howell said. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you. I have access to local law enforcement reports, satellite images, and intel reports."

  "Will do."

  "And Jen, keep me updated. Don't bother Dr. Cartwright. Call me instead."

  Really?

  "OK. Talk to you later." The call ended.

  Zeke peered at her over the back of the seat. "So what did he say?"

  "Hordes are still making gains out west and there've have been flare-ups in the east like what we saw in Atlanta."

  Zeke smiled. "More zombies to kill."

  Wayne raised an eyebrow. "You actually looking forward to that, little brother?"

  Zeke turned back around.

  Hea
t rose in Jen's face. She elbowed Wayne in the side. He flinched. "What the hell?"

  "Your little brother saved me more times than I can count," she said. "He's trying to keep his head in the game, so don't fuck him up."

  Wayne gazed into her eyes, then said, "I can protect you."

  "Oh, great. The big testosterone-fueled man is going to protect little old me." She poked a finger in his chest. "I've killed far more zombies than you've ever seen. Maybe I should protect you."

  Wayne's lips pressed together and he looked away.

  "I said Zeke saved me," Jen said. "I didn't say he protected me. We protected each other, and so did a lot of other people. Most of them are dead."

  She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. Welcome to the real world, dude.

  Passengers boarded. The first were the old couple. They took the first seat on the right. The lady placed a coat-draped case between them. She glanced back and her eyes met Jen's. The old bag scowled and turned away.

  What's she got in that box? Gold bricks? Or maybe something more valuable like a personality?

  Zeke was twisted around in his seat, facing her. "Can't wait to get going, but there are still empty seats."

  "I wonder how many seats are in this car," Jen said.

  "Sixty-two," Zeke replied.

  "Now how the hell did you know that?"

  "I counted when we came in."

  A thirty-something balding man with an enormous beer gut and a scowl led a mousy woman to the seat across from the old couple. "In here, honey," he said as he guided her to the seat.

  The woman's eyes darted back and forth. It looked like a loud cough would be enough to send her into a panic.

  Perfect person to be with in a zombie apocalypse.

  The old lady up front surveyed her fellow passengers, most dressed in casual clothes. She whispered something to her husband.

  Poor rich bitch has to put up with the rabble.

  The doors whooshed closed and the murmur of conversation picked up in the car. Rodriguez and Daniels broke off their conversation and sat back in their seats.

  A voice crackled from the speakers. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your conductor. We are about to begin our journey to Boston, Massachusetts, with stops in between. All cars are full to capacity and all seats taken, so please remain in yours. Nonessential cars have been replaced with passenger cars for maximum capacity, so there are no food and beverage services on this route."

  "No beer?" Beer Belly wailed.

  The train jerked and rumbled from the station. Breaking into daylight, it picked up speed. Jen looked out the window, squinting her eyes in the light. She jostled shoulder to shoulder with Wayne, but neither of them spoke.

  The train rolled through the city and picked up speed. Several passengers leaned back and closed their eyes.

  This'll be a piece of cake at this rate.

  The conductor burst in from the next car and spoke in hushed tones to Agent Rodriguez. Rodriguez picked up the direct line to the engineer and listened. He pulled the phone from his ear and looked at the conductor, shaking his head.

  So much for the piece of cake.

  The conductor disappeared into the next car and Jen caught Rodriguez's gaze and shrugged.

  Rodriguez beckoned Daniels over and whispered something to him. Daniels frowned.

  Jen jumped up and made a beeline to the two agents. "What's going on?"

  Daniels motioned for her to lower her voice. "Don't want to panic anyone."

  "The engineer's not answering his intercom," Rodriguez said.

  "Is that unusual?" Jen asked.

  "According to the conductor, the only time that's ever happened was when the intercom wasn't working or the engineer had a medical emergency. Since they did a successful sound check before they left, he's concerned for the engineer."

  "What have you got in there?" Beer Belly's booming voice filled the cab.

  He stood in the aisle glaring down at the old lady, who cringed away from him. Beer Belly pointed at the covered case between the old lady and the old man. "There's something alive in there."

  Rodriguez and Daniels exchanged a glance, and Daniels strode toward the front.

  Passengers craned their necks to get a view of the disruption at the front of the car.

  "Mind your own business," the old lady snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "Oh, I don't, do I?" Beer Belly lunged and grabbed the case. The older couple latched onto it like their lives depended on it.

  "Help," the old lady screamed.

  Daniels reached Beer Belly and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let it go and sit down."

  Beer Belly let go of the case. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

  The old lady and the old man fell backward with the suddenly freed case. It slammed into the wall and fell to the floor.

  Jen stood to see. The coat had fallen off and exposed a plastic animal carrier with a wire frame door. The door had popped open and something inside stirred.

  With a deep growl a bloodied cat with piercing yellow eyes sprung from the carrier and landed on Beer Belly's thigh. He screamed when the cat bit through his pants and shredded his leg.

  12

  Daniels stumbled backward and the old lady let out a wail. "My Buttons. Don't hurt my fur baby."

  Beer Belly swatted the cat off his leg, tripped, and fell onto his seat. His wife shrank against the wall.

  The cat leapt onto Daniels' chest and clawed his suit. Daniels pulled his pistol and bashed the cat with the butt, knocking it to the floor, where it skittered underneath a seat.

  Passengers pulled their legs from the floor and stood on their seats while the old lady went to her knees and crawled down the aisle. "Here, Buttons. Mommy's here."

  The old man stumbled, clutching his chest, then collapsed out of sight.

  Jen pushed past Wayne. "See if you can bash the cat."

  She pulled her tomahawk while Wayne picked up his bat and Zeke unsheathed his katana.

  "Not a lot of room in here to swing," Zeke said.

  Beer Belly's wife screeched as her husband pounced on her, pinning her to the wall. He clamped his teeth on her throat and her cries died in a gurgle as he shook his head and ripped her throat out.

  A gunshot went off and the back of Beer Belly's head disintegrated. He fell off the seat and sprawled on the floor.

  The cat sprang onto a woman's chest and bit her shoulder. Jen charged and swung at the zombie cat. It leapt onto another passenger, and Jen's blade ended up in the wounded lady's neck. "Shit!"

  The lady's cloudy eyes turned to Jen. Already turning.

  Jen freed the blade, twisted the handle, and slammed the pointed end into the lady's temple. She dropped to the floor.

  Zeke stood at the back, his katana at the ready, but he didn't attack. He's afraid of hitting someone uninfected.

  Beer Belly's wife jumped on a twenty-something man's back and bit into the back of his neck while the old man had turned and proceeded to peel the flesh from his wife's cheek.

  "Daniels," Rodriguez yelled.

  Daniels stood in the middle of it all, his back to Jen. He spun when his name was called, and drool spilled from his mouth as he eyed a meal.

  Rodriguez fired, the bullet entering Daniels' eye and spraying blood, flesh, and bone as it exited from the back of his skull.

  The cat jumped onto the seat in front of Jen, its gaze locked on her. A flash from the corner of her eye, and an aluminum bat slammed into the spot the cat had been a second earlier.

  "This shit's out of hand," Jen said. She raced to the door to the next car and grabbed the handle. Through the window, nervous passengers stood and stared at her.

  She jerked the door open. "In here. Now."

  Wayne slammed the bat into a charging zombie, hitting it in the ribs and knocking it to the side. Jen grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him off balance. "Leave it."

  He stumbled into the next car and Jen followed. Zeke rushed in and Rod
riguez stood at the doorway, firing wildly.

  The passengers in the second car screamed and mobbed the back door.

  Several zombies rushed Rodriguez, one up the aisle, two more leaping from neighboring seats.

  Halfway through the door, he pulled the trigger and his gun clicked empty. He stumbled backward and slammed the door, but two bloodied arms prevented it from closing all the way.

  The passengers bottlenecked at the back door. Jen grasped Wayne's arm and pointed at the fleeing passengers. "Help them out. We need the way clear in case we have to retreat farther. Make sure you keep the door propped open."

  Wayne nodded and dashed to the back of the car.

  Jen rushed to help Rodriguez. She chopped at one of the intruding arms, but it didn't withdraw and the door pushed wider a couple of inches.

  Zeke struck the best he could with the limited room, but it did little good.

  His teeth gritted and face red, Rodriguez strained to keep the door from flying open. "You go," he said. "We need you to make it to Boston."

  "You can't let this door go and get to the next car in time," Jen yelled.

  "I know."

  "We're clear." Wayne stood at the back door. The last of the passengers were already halfway through the third car.

  Jen pointed to Wayne. "Let's go, Zeke."

  Jen dashed down the aisle and through the door. She turned just as Zeke made it into the car. The door Rodriguez held had opened more than two feet. Two zombies had pushed their upper bodies partially in, and more arms had snaked their way through, putting pressure on the door.

  Rodriguez gave a groan and collapsed. A zombie wave poured over him and into the car.

  Jen shut the door and it latched. Seconds later several zombies slammed into it, smearing the window in blood.

  Jen turned to the others. "That's one solid-ass door—"

  Zeke and Wayne stood halfway down the aisle battling five zombies.

  What the hell?

  Jen unholstered her pistol and shot at a zombie in a beanie cap missing half its face. Rushing Wayne, it fell back as the bullet slammed into its chest, but quickly recovered.

  Jen grasped the pistol in both hands and took a deep breath, then held it. She squeezed the trigger, absorbing the satisfying recoil and the sight of what remained of the zombie's face collapsing around its nose.