The Apocalypse Chronicles (Book 3): Rebirth [Undead]

by DeLeon, Jon

  Ricahrd began the talking. "Tell me about your mission."

  Joe felt in his gut that this man could be trusted, but there was something Joe could sense Ricahrd was holding back, so he decided to be brief and blunt. "I have an Enerjax enhancer that the mayor hired me to deliver to Newlantis."

  "What is an Enerjax enhancer?" Ricahrd asked.

  "I don't know, he just hired me to deliver a package," Joe said.

  "That's two," Ricahrd said, holding up two fingers. "You've lied to me twice now. Lie a third time and . . ." The burly man standing by the door cocked the hammer of his handgun back with a click. "So what does the Enerjax enhancer do?"

  Joe tightened his jaw. "It's not a cure."

  "That's not what I asked," Ricahrd said.

  Joe simply stared at Ricahrd.

  "So it's a weapon?" Ricahrd asked.

  Joe didn't say a word, but his body betrayed him. His hand instinctively squeezed the case handle tighter.

  "I'll take that as a yes," Ricahrd said. "Why you? Don't bother telling me you don't know, or I guess you got lucky. I was the one who called in to New Miami and instantly got instructions to send you to a private dock operated and protected by the mayor for VIPs. So why you? Why did the mayor want YOU?"

  "We have history," Joe replied.

  "What kind of history? Did you work for him before?" Ricahrd asked, suspicious of Joe.

  "Why does it matter?" Joe asked back.

  "I'm trying to figure out what kind of man I have in front of me," Ricahrd replied.

  "I was his son's commander in the Army," Joe said.

  "So you were military?" Ricahrd asked with a little bit lighter tone, clearly relieved of some fear.

  "Yes."

  "How long?" Ricahrd asked.

  "A while." Joe was still hesitant to give up too much information, wary of being too trusting.

  "What were you? Infantry? Armor? Artillery? Cyber warfare?" Ricahrd pried.

  "Special Forces," Joe said, glancing at the burly man.

  The man adjusted his handgun so it would be easier to raise up if something occurred.

  "No shit!" Ricahrd said, laughing out loud. "Well you should be running security here, not me. I was just a semi-pro basketball player before all this zombie crap happened."

  "Well I wouldn't have let one boat attack another," Joe said in a tone that was a mixture of criticism and playfulness.

  "That's fair," Ricahrd said, nodding. "So let me ask again, how long have you been out of the military?"

  "What does this have to do with anything?" Joe asked back. "Are we here to talk about what happens next or my past?" Joe was tired of being on edge, planning his survival attack.

  "Both, I guess," Ricahrd answered, amused. "So you're a recent deserter, I guess?"

  "They let me go," Joe said through gritted teeth.

  "Because of incompetence?" Ricahrd asked with an eyebrow raised.

  Joe stared back intently.

  "No, that can't be it," Ricahrd said, matching his stare.

  "Insubordination, I bet," the burly man said.

  Joe shot his eyes toward him, angry.

  "Guess that's not it either," Ricahrd said. "Well whatever it is, I hope you're not the type of soldier who just follows orders without thinking or having a conscience, because your mission is not going to go the way you hope it will."

  Joe bent to set the case on the ground, slowly, preparing to fight.

  "Whoa." Ricahrd put both his hands up. "I'm not threatening you. Sorry, I guess I owe you an apology. I have been lying to you. I actually know about your mission, and about the other mission you weren't told about but are going to play a crucial role in."

  Joe looked at the burly man, whose pistol was still prepped to bring level with Joe's face.

  Ricahrd instructed the man. "Put it away. It's okay."

  The man holstered his handgun.

  Joe relaxed some, letting his mind catch up. "What other mission are you talking about?"

  Ricahrd continued. "The mayor and the piece-of-shit human who calls himself king of Newlantis have both been in constant contact with me about the importance of your mission. Look, the mayor is a good man. He's building a fair and well-run command structure with justice valued above all else in New Miami. The 'king' of Newlantis is creating a corrupt dictatorship that he runs with a twisted sense of pleasure. I know what you're trying to do. The mayor said your main motivation is to find your brother. That's admirable. I have siblings myself and wouldn't want to have them stuck in the middle of nowhere, especially Russia. So I'm going to help you. The mayor already squared away the other piece of the deal that you asked for, but we really can't trust the king of Newlantis, or the ‘king of the seas’ as he likes to call himself. You need to watch your back."

  "I've done things with bad people for good reasons before," Joe said.

  "I'm sure you have, but you usually have a local guide helping you, right?" Ricahrd asked.

  Joe nodded his head.

  "Well now that's going to be me, and I'm telling you, you need to have a secondary plan."

  "And you have an idea for that?" Joe asked, suspicious of Ricahrd.

  "I've already started implementing it. I reported the shooting to both parties. I told them both that the case was hit by a stray bullet, and I told them that only three vials survived unbroken. So how many do you actually have left?"

  Joe looked at the case resting on the ground. Seven had survived the attack on La Vida Dulce. "Seven."

  "Perfect!" Ricahrd exclaimed. "There is a resistance, good people who want to build something better than the life the king has planned for them. They need to be armed with the solution so that they can start clearing areas of zombies and escape, before it's too late."

  "I'm not sure this is my fight," Joe said.

  "I know you don't know me well, but I need you to trust me. Plus the resistance will be able to help us find your brother. Meet them with me, and we can both get what we want."

  "They can help me find my brother? How?" Joe was suddenly more interested in this idea.

  "Well, while the king has been busy amassing power, the resistance has been logging all distress signals out of all of Europe, Africa and the Middle East. If there is anything that came from Russia, they would have record of it. If your brother was able to send word somehow, they would be able to pinpoint his location for us."

  "That's a lot of ifs." Joe thought for a second. "How do I find them?"

  "You don't . . . we do. I'll be coming with you the whole way. All the way to Russia if need be," Ricahrd said, determined.

  "Why?" Joe asked.

  Ricahrd got serious. "I used to have three sisters when this shit storm started. Now I have one. She's only eight. She's stuck on this ship, because everywhere else is terrible. I don't want this life for her. I want to rebuild the world in a way that she will grow up into something better. Part of doing that is helping good people save their families, like you, like the resistance. We give them the zombie kill, they give us the location and together maybe we can start the process of cleaning this world up."

  "So you're just doing this out of the goodness of your heart?"

  "Look, before this happened, I was on the road playing basketball. I wasn't around for my little sisters. I was traveling, sleeping around and doing drugs. I was high the day the zombies attacked. I couldn't run fast or think clearly. Because of that, I could only save one of my sisters. If I had been sober, I probably could have saved them all. I couldn't save my family. I'm not missing any chance to save others."

  "Okay, I'll go along with your plan. If your resistance has my brother's location, they can have the booster."

  "Thank you," Ricahrd said. "Okay well, for now, let's get you back to your boat."

  The burly man opened the door, and the three men walked back out the series of hallways and stairs. A few minutes later and they were en route to La Vida Dulce. As they neared the ship, Joe felt a wash of hope fill his heart. The puzzle
pieces to find Kurt were falling into place. He just needed to hold on a little longer. Ricahrd turned to him with a final instruction. "Joe, don't tell any of the other ships about our talk. The captain of the tanker can be trusted, but the other boats can't. Understand?"

  Joe nodded. "Hey, Ricahrd. If your sister ever wants to, she can come play with the kids on our boat. They're about the same age, and we have quite a few toys."

  Ricahrd smiled big. "Thanks. I'll probably take you up on that."

  The Russian Cabin: Outbreak Day +82

  It had been two weeks since Tyler injured his leg and chest. A cold icy wind battered the cabin, trying its best to find entrance. The siding and roof shuddered, holding back its freeze. Tyler scraped the last few pieces of rice from his bowl; it wasn't enough. His stomach grumbled, yearning for more. "Dude, are you trying to starve us? I know we have plenty of rice out there," Tyler said to Kurt.

  "Look, man, we do have plenty of rice. But you've just been moping around here—" Kurt started.

  Tyler cut him off. "Yeah, I'm fucking hurt."

  "You were hurt," Kurt interjected.

  "Dude, my rib still hurts, and my leg."

  "Your leg is fine, and I haven't heard you cough in over a day now."

  "That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," Tyler murmured. "Besides, we're both moping around here. This stupid wind has us both stuck in here. Even if we could go outside, what would we do? Go for a leisure hike?"

  Kurt nodded. "That's true, and hiking outside in that cold air would probably irritate your newly healed lungs."

  "Exactly, so give me some more rice."

  "No," Kurt answered plainly, looking at his own measly portion of rice. "You and I are going to earn our rice from now on."

  "What does that even mean?" Tyler asked with annoyance.

  "Well, think about it. We both survived the camp attack because we were able to outrun those zombies. Even the survivors we partied with on that lake island before, well you know, they were all the in-shape people from camp.”

  "Yeah, I know, Kurt, survival of the fittest."

  "Exactly . . . well, Tyler, we've both been sitting on our asses doing nothing."

  "Nothing? I've been growing a rib."

  "Growing is a little bit of an exaggeration,” Kurt joked. “Anyway, you know what I mean. I just think it's time for us to get back in shape a little. We need to start doing some cabin WODs."

  "WODs?"

  "It means ‘workout of the day.’"

  "I know what it means. Okay, Dave Castro, when do you plan for these workouts to start?"

  "Right now?” Kurt jumped up from his seat.

  Tyler laughed. "What? Seriously?"

  "You said you want more rice, right?" Kurt grabbed Tyler's bowl from his hand. "Come on. We don't have anything else to do, so let's get in shape."

  "Bro, I seriously hate you right now."

  "Come on, time to actually rebuild that leg a little."

  "Fine." Tyler stood up with a groan.

  "All right," Kurt said, "I say we do a team workout. That way we can keep each other going. Sound good?"

  "You're way too excited for this."

  "Well one of us has to be," Kurt said as he started stretching his shoulders. "Okay, so I'm thinking we start simple. I'll do twenty push-ups, twenty sit-ups and twenty air squats. Then you'll do twenty of each, and then it will be my turn again."

  "Fuck you," Tyler said. "Are you trying to kill me?"

  Kurt stood there, confused.

  "Sit-ups and squats?" Tyler pointed at his rib and leg.

  Kurt laughed out, "Dude, no pain, no gain, right?"

  Tyler shook his head.

  "Look, just go with it and try to move well. I'll bet moving will help you unstiffen up. We'll go for twenty minutes. Then I'll give you as much rice as you want."

  "Okay, but only because I want the rice."

  Kurt started the timer on his watch and dropped to the floor. He definitely had lost some fitness but was still able to move well through the round of push-ups, sit-ups and squats. Tyler favored his leg and let out grunts of pain with each sit-up. As they alternated, Tyler quickly faded, moving slowly. But he never quit. The timer went off just as Kurt was finishing a breakneck-paced final round. Both men sat sweating and breathing hard. Tyler was holding his rib while trying to catch his breath. Kurt asked, "How are you doing, man?"

  "Breathing. Hurts," he said in between deep breaths.

  "How’s the leg feeling?"

  "That. Actually loosened. Up a bit."

  "See!" Kurt exclaimed happily. "What'd I tell you? We're gonna keep doing some simple workouts and get you healthy and get us ready to be able to survive again."

  "Where's that rice you promised?" Tyler asked, smiling.

  "Coming right up."

  La Vida Dulce: Outbreak Day +78

  "La Vida Dulce, this is the security ship approaching from your stern," Ricahrd said over the radio.

  A small voice spoke next, nasally and matching the eight-year-old girl who said it. "Prepare to be boarded." Ricahrd laughed as he sailed up behind the yacht.

  "Roger," Joe said back over the radio. He put the handheld back in its cradle. "They're here!" he shouted down to Kira, who was downstairs helping the children get ready for the playdate with Megan, Ricahrd's young sister. Joe got out of the captain's chair and took a step toward the back of the boat. He nearly tripped and fell over Christine. She had sprinted upstairs and grabbed his legs, nearly tackling him.

  "Wait, Mr. Joe," she said, squeezing his legs tight.

  "What's wrong?" Joe asked gently.

  "I'm scared. What if she doesn't like me?" Christine pouted.

  "Who wouldn't like you?" Joe freed one of his legs and got down on one knee so his face was on the same level as Christine’s. "Christine, you and your brother and sister are fun and happy, and cute." He lightly flicked her nose with the last statement. She smiled back at him. "You have fun coloring, right?"

  Christine nodded back eagerly.

  "Well think about if you couldn't color or play with your siblings anymore? How would that make you feel?" Joe asked.

  "Sad," Christine said back.

  "Well that's what Ricahrd’s sister, Megan, has had to live with for a while. Now you can help her, play with her and share your toys and make her so happy. Even with everything that has happened, we are so fortunate to have been able to do things that many others haven't. I've even gotten lucky enough to have you, Liz and Jack here to play with me. Now today we can share that feeling with Megan."

  Christine nodded, still nervous but obviously feeling a little better.

  "Want to help me welcome them out back?" Joe asked her, smiling.

  "Okay," Christine said, pushing through her shyness.

  They walked out onto the back deck, hand in hand. Joe had stopped the engines of La Vida Dulce, making it easy for Ricahrd to pull up beside them. Ricahrd threw a rope across. Joe quickly tied the boats together and then stood behind Christine, placing his hands on her shoulders. Ricahrd hopped from one boat deck to the other, carrying his sister in one arm. He set her down, smiling. "Thanks for having her over," Ricahrd said.

  "It's our pleasure." Joe looked down at Christine. "Isn't it, Christine?"

  She looked up at him, a quick glance for strength, and then stepped forward. She held out her hand to the other young girl, who stood by Ricahrd's side. "I'm Christine."

  Ricahrd pushed his sister forward gently. She looked at him, a little scared herself. She turned and said, "I'm Megan." The two little girls shook hands.

  "See, fast friends," Joe said. "Hello, Megan, I'm Joe." He reached out and shook her hand as well. After releasing his hand, he introduced Ricahrd to Christine. "Ricahrd, this is Christine."

  "Nice to meet ya," Ricahrd said as he shook her hand.

  "Joe . . ." Jolie stopped in her tracks. She stood staring at Ricahrd.

  "Jolie?" Joe asked.

  It snapped her out of her trance. "Yes? Oh, sorry
, Kira needs help with something, getting the playroom ready."

  "Oh, okay. Well I guess it's time to go meet Kira and start playing, girls," Joe said.

  "Wait," Jolie said, a little louder than she wanted to. She adjusted her tone and continued. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

  "Oh right," Joe said, "Jolie, this is Ricahrd. Ricahrd, this is Jolie. And this—"

  Jolie cut him off. "Are you the man who saved us the other night? Our knight in shining armor?"

  "Just doing my job." Ricahrd's voice audibly cracked.

  "Megan here is his sister, and she's going to come play with the kids," Joe continued.

  Jolie turned her attention to the little girl, squatting down. "Nice to meet you, Megan. Can I ask you a question?" The little girl nodded, hesitant. "Do you like coloring books?" The girls nodded again, this time extremely excited. "Well do you want to color with Christine and me? We have a sixty-four-pack of crayons."

  This time, the girl's jaw dropped. She looked at her brother, Ricahrd, for a second. He smiled. "Go ahead. I'll be back in a few hours."

  Jolie reached out and took hold of one of Megan's hands and one of Christine's. They turned to walk inside.

  "Nice to meet you, Jolie!" Ricahrd said.

  "You too," she replied, flashing a nervous smile over her shoulder.

  As Jolie and the kids disappeared inside, Joe laughed. "Ha ha, do you want to ask her to spring formal?"

  Ricahrd shook his head a few times. "What?"

  Joe raised an eyebrow, calling him out without words.