Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set, Vol. 2 [Books 4-7]

by DeGordick, Jeff

  "Sarah! Do it!" Wayne said.

  Sarah looked over at him and came back to reality. The zombie started to push itself off the ground and it twisted its shoulders, looking up at her. Sarah threw the rock down and clobbered it, cracking its skull. It fell back down again, flat on its face, as Sarah continued to hit it in the back of the skull until it stopped moving. She let go of the rock and stood up, backing away from the zombie but never taking her eyes off of it.

  "Come on, we need to keep moving. We're not far," Wayne said.

  Wayne and Ron hurried on as Sarah was still stuck in her trance for another few seconds, then she finally turned and carried on after them.

  They spotted more zombies in the woods as they went, some of them in civilian clothing as well, but some of them dressed in military gear. They didn't know what was going on, but the idea that the occasional zombie had wandered in from the surrounding farmland had gone out the window. Whatever sick things were going on in that base, they wanted to know, and they were getting close.

  They managed to evade the zombies without being spotted, all of them being of the normal variety and not the far more aggressive, vicious kind that Amanda had dubbed the "scratchers".

  "There's the end of it," Sarah said, pointing ahead. The woods came to an end about fifty yards in front of them, leaving nothing but clear blue sky beyond it, and they knew that it would definitely make for a good lookout.

  They glanced around, making sure there were no other zombies in the area, lurking behind trees or bushes or otherwise, then they hurried on. But just as their hearts started to hammer more from excitement than fear, Wayne stopped them dead in their tracks.

  "Wait!" he said.

  Before Sarah could ask what the problem was, she saw with her own eyes.

  At the very edge of the woods ahead, a large group of soldiers came from the right and spread out through the trees. They seemed to cover the entire area, each one of them in a helmet and full body armor, carrying an M16 and blocking them from getting to the base.

  20

  Disarmed

  "Search the area!" one of the soldiers called in the distance. "Rendezvous at the coordinates you were given after you complete your sweep."

  All of the soldiers split up and moved through the woods down the slope. They remained on semi-alert and were ready to shoot at any threatening target they saw.

  One of the soldiers lingered near the ridge for a while, making sure there was no one around while the others went ahead of him. He had been in his uniform for eight hours already on his shift, not able to take a break that day, and he was sweating profusely under his heavy gear in the warm spring day. The forest was quiet around him and he saw no signs of any intruders, though he had been briefed along with the others that it looked like they would be heading this way. He had no idea why and he didn't care. He just wanted to get this damn tree crawl out of the way so he could go back to his bunk and get a shower.

  He walked down the slope, keeping it slow. He glanced around for the other soldiers who had spread out nice and wide, keeping an eye on his network of support. He caught another guy in the distance turning his head and they both nodded to each other.

  The forest was covered in underbrush, and that was a damn piss off as far as he was concerned. There were always rocks or twigs hidden underneath and he hated stepping on them wrong and twisting his ankle. The heavy boots that they wore never did him any favors in that department, either.

  "South-west end, nothing to report," a voice squawked over his walkie-talkie.

  "East end, you guys see anything yet?" another voice asked.

  He saw the guy in the distance that he nodded to take his walkie off his hip and say something silently into it that he heard a second later on his own. "Nothing yet."

  He picked up his own and held it to his face. "Nothing," he affirmed. He put the walkie back on his hip and glanced around, checking what was behind him at the ridge as he felt a sudden breeze pick up and roll toward the west. Nothing, indeed.

  An itch came over the back of his neck and he wanted so badly to pull off his helmet and scratch it, but he knew if he got caught doing that, he'd be in major shit. He winced at the feeling, trying to wait it out and focus on sweeping the forest for as long as it took for his boss to call it off. They didn't often get any alerts that someone was near the base or trying to come in, but it happened once in a while. Usually it was some bandit asshole that was biting off a little more than he could chew—sometimes a group of them—but it always ended the same way: pop off a couple of shots, show them you're a lot better equipped than they are, and they always backed off. Never before had he heard of a bandit killing one of their own, and he had to admit that that spooked him a bit. But whatever the intruders' reasons for being here, he figured that they must have been on their way by now, especially now that they were searching the area.

  The soldier watched as his fellow squad mates disappeared farther into the forest. He was always the lazy one, though he tried to hide it well, and he didn't want to have to go too far away from the base so that when they got called back, he wouldn't have to make the trek up hill to the ridge. So he moved slowly and kicked through the thick green underbrush that was filling up the ground like wildfire in the early spring and watched it rustle under the force of his boot. The trees gently swayed over his head and he took a moment to look up at the sunshine that he could see coming in in little specks through the canopies. He heard the occasional noise that turned his head, which would always net him the sight of a chipmunk or probably some falling nut that it was after.

  But this time he heard an odd tapping. It came from a few yards to his left around a tree and he stared in that direction with a slight curiosity. He glanced over at the other soldier that he could still see searching in the distance, then he walked behind the tree to discover what had made the noise.

  More underbrush, but nothing there.

  As soon as his back was turned, Wayne pushed himself up to his feet and came up behind him. He slipped the soldier's knife out of his sheath before he was even aware of his presence, then he put his hand on his shoulder and drove the knife up on an angle at the base of his skull and into his brain.

  The soldier's arm flailed to the side in an involuntary reaction and knocked into the tree as the rest of his body stayed upright but began to spasm.

  The sound drew the attention of the other soldier in the distance, who turned and looked at the noise he'd heard.

  Wayne quickly swung the soldier around and used his body as cover.

  The other soldier stared for a moment, seeing his squad mate standing straight up with his M16 hanging around his neck and his arms dangling at his sides. He found his behavior strange, and he just shook his head and turned away, continuing his sweep.

  As soon as he was out of view, Wayne withdrew the knife from the soldier's brain and he limply dropped to the ground. Wayne dragged his body around the thick oak tree and propped it up, trying to keep it out of view as best he could.

  "Come on!" he whispered to Sarah and Ron who had been hiding under a thick patch of underbrush with him.

  Their heads emerged from under the greenery and looked around, making sure the coast was clear. They stood up and hurried around the tree, waiting for Wayne. Wayne pulled the walkie-talkie off the soldier's hip and brought it with him to know when the soldiers called off their search and would be heading back.

  They headed out of the woods and moved across the narrow width of grass that led up to the ridge, lowering themselves on their stomachs and poking their heads up.

  The base sprawled out in front of them, just as big and equipped as any military base Wayne had ever seen. He had never been aware of this particular one, and he was sure that it was built after the zombie virus had been unleashed. A series of storage buildings and tents littered the base, and dozens of Jeeps, cargo trucks and other vehicles were lined up in perfect formation. Landing strips and helipads sat at the back of the base, and the entir
e property was surrounded by a twenty-five-foot concrete wall with outposts along the top. Armed guards stood on each one, watching the landscape. The main gate was to their right, which had a large steel gate and entry checkpoints, staffed with a number of armed soldiers. And there was a huge building sitting in the middle of the base. But exactly what was in that facility, they could only guess.

  The three of them lay against the ridge, and Wayne kept the walkie-talkie next to him.

  The other side of the ridge sloped down very steeply and curved to the left, funneling down toward a copse of woods away from the base perimeter.

  They took a few moments to scan the base and take in everything they were seeing. There was a very large pen with a steel cage over top constructed on the other side of the wall in front of them. At first it appeared to be some kind of animal pen, but upon closer inspection they spotted two humans trapped inside, dressed in rags and looking very emaciated.

  Sarah had instant flashbacks to what she'd seen crossing the bandits' bridge into Durham; those abhorrent cages that trapped raped and beaten women like lame cattle, kept alive only to satisfy the primal urges of the true animals around them.

  A soldier stood outside of the pen, looking over a clipboard. The two humans inside were lying on the ground, and at first the three of them watching from the ridge didn't understand what they were looking at or what the purpose of the pen was.

  A truck rumbled in the distance and pulled to a stop next to it. Two soldiers hopped out of the cab and went around to the back, one of them extending a ramp out and lowering it to the ground like a moving truck. The other soldier pulled out a pole that looked something like a pool skimmer from the underside of the truck. He walked up the ramp and opened up a slot in a steel door in the back of the truck. He fished in the pole, working his arms back and forth like he was trying to hook a fish. Then he pulled open the door and struggled with all his might as he led a scratcher down the ramp. It was agitated and ferocious, but the soldier kept it in check, leading it by a rubber loop around its neck on the other end of the pole.

  He dragged the stubborn corpse to the pen as the soldier standing nearby with the clipboard pulled open the door for him. The men inside were roused from their state of almost catatonic apathy and suddenly jumped around like frogs in boiling water.

  The soldier let the scratcher free and shut the pen door behind it. One of the two withered men inside picked up a machete off the ground and the other one picked up a spear.

  "My God," Sarah muttered. "What are they doing to them?"

  The scratcher tore off after the one with the machete, and the other one stepped in as it passed by, thrusting the spear at it. The tip of it struck it in the shoulder, but it was only a glancing blow, shredding a little bit of muscle and flesh but mostly just knocking it off balance into the pen wall. The scratcher regained its balance and came after the one holding the spear instead. The spear-wielder thrust again but missed, and then the scratcher was on him, knocking him to the ground and eating his face. The other man came up behind the zombie and swung at its head with the machete, but the scratcher jerked to the side and the blade only sank into its shoulder. The man struggled to pull it out in his weakened state, and the scratcher launched itself at him. He got the blade free and moved out of the way, but the corpse changed direction and came at him immediately, reaching out for him. The man swung the machete and cleaved off one of its arms at the elbow, but the corpse paid no attention and tackled him, pulling all the tendons and organs out of his throat. The soldier standing outside the pen simply looked down and filled out something on his clipboard before signaling to the other soldiers to corral the scratcher and take it away.

  "This is sick," Wayne said. "What in God's name are they doing here?"

  "I don't know," Sarah said, "but I want to find out."

  The three of them continued to watch from the ridge, their nerves settling a little after the grisly scene ended in front of them. They saw various transports going in and out of the base, carrying unknown loads, and a squad of soldiers lining up at an outdoor firing range and going through shooting drills. But there was no sign of the Shadow Man or any indication that told them exactly what was happening in the base. If they wanted to know, they would have to find a way inside.

  "You know what's been bugging me all day?" Wayne asked, watching another transport truck leave the base.

  Sarah and Ron looked at him.

  "When we were trapped down in that lab and I was trying to override the elevator controls so we could escape, I never actually did it."

  "What?" Sarah asked. "What are you talking about?"

  "I found the command to override the controls," he continued, "but I never actually confirmed them. I was about to, but then the elevator buzzed and it suddenly worked." He looked at Ron. "And right as that happened, you came back in the room after mysteriously disappearing."

  Sarah's eyes narrowed at the realization of what he was saying. She looked at Ron suspiciously.

  Ron stared out at the base without saying a word. When he felt the overbearing weight of their gazes on him, he turned his head at last. "Well, you've got me," he said.

  "Ron, I think it's time you told us what's going on," Sarah said.

  He sighed. "All right. Do you remember when I—"

  Sarah rocked away from him onto her side, her face lighting up in shock. She tried to blurt out his name to alert him, but it was already too late.

  A zombie clothed in muddy rags fell on top of Ron and chewed the side of his neck. He shrieked in pain and horror as he rolled around, trying to free himself from under the creature's weight.

  Sarah took the knife from Wayne and hurried to Ron's aid. She sank the blade into the back of its skull and killed it instantly, and she rolled it off of Ron and attended to him. He stared up at her with wide and frightened eyes, holding his hand to his neck as blood poured out of it and seeped through his fingers. He tried to say something, but his voice was hoarse and a painful wheezing was all he could manage at first.

  "There!" a soldier yelled out from the woods. "Don't move!" He aimed his M16 at them and waited for one of them to try something. "Put your weapons down and stand up." He radioed to the others and before long they were surrounded.

  Sarah and Wayne stood with their hands on their heads while Ron continued to bleed on the ground. Sarah looked down at him and he caught her eye as his mouth slowly moved, like he was trying to tell her something. She squinted, trying to figure out what he was saying when what was left of his dying voice came back to him.

  "You have... to live," he said weakly. "You're the key... to... everything." His eyes glazed over and his forehead softly hit the dirt, his breathing labored.

  Another small group of soldiers came up along the ridge from the entrance of the base, joining the ones that surrounded them. And behind them, a sight more unmistakable than anything, was the man with the skull on his face... the Shadow Man.

  His presence was immediately terrifying, like a dark cloud had rolled over the scene even though the sky was nothing but pastel blue. He towered over the others and broke through the circle of soldiers guarding the two of them.

  "Ah... there you are at last," he said longingly.

  Sarah stared at him, her heart racing. She couldn't tell if he was talking to her or Wayne, the terrifying purple skull on his face hiding his intentions.

  "Wayne..." he said in his deep and gravelly voice. "It's been so long."

  Wayne suddenly looked like he'd seen a ghost.

  "Do you remember me now?" he asked.

  "It can't be," Wayne uttered. "You... but you died..."

  "Who's the other one?" the Shadow Man asked one of the guards. "I remember her from the factory. I'm surprised she survived."

  The soldier nearest to him stuttered, trying to come up with a satisfactory answer. "Uh, I don't know, sir. We found them trying to get to the base. They killed one of ours at outpost Echo-Seven."

  The Shadow Man looked down
at Ron who was still bleeding, his breathing becoming shallow. "Clean this mess up," he said.

  "Yes sir," the soldier replied, and a few of them attended to Ron and the zombie.

  "This one's coming with us," the Shadow Man said, pulling Wayne by the arm. He moved him with such ease that it was like he were a doll.

  Wayne stumbled, but he refused to go quietly. He pulled his arm out of the Shadow Man's grip and threw a punch at him.

  The Shadow Man hadn't even been paying attention to him as he pulled him along and the punch struck the side of his head and pushed up the edge of his nylon mask, revealing the side of his face up to his ear. His skin was pale and bumpy. The texture was disgusting and it looked like his flesh had been melted. His ear was gone; only a gnarled clump of flesh surrounded the canal leading to his eardrum, as if that too had been melted down to nothing. He quickly pulled the mask back down and plowed Wayne in the face with his huge fist.