Resistant Box Set

by Perrin Briar

  “Thank you for bringing him back to me,” Dr. Walker said. “But now, your service is at an end.”

  Thwak!

  Dana flinched, realizing the breathy whip-crack through the air she’d just heard wasn’t the usual sound a gunshot made.

  Dr. Walker pressed his hand to his head and looked at the blood he saw there. He turned see Hugo standing over him with Dana’s sword. He must have slipped it out of its sheath as Dana had fallen.

  “My boy?” Dr. Walker said.

  He raised his gun to fire again, but Hugo had already raised the sword in a high arc. This time he wouldn’t use the pommel to batter him. The blade glinted as it sailed through the air. With an expression of great confusion, the doctor fell to his knees, then down onto his face.

  Hugo dropped the sword like it was a snake. He backed away, bumping into the wall. He ran his hands through his hair, face scrunched up in emotional pain.

  “Father…” Hugo said. “Father, I’m sorry.”

  He rushed to his father’s side. Dr. Walker tried to speak.

  “So,” he said, gargling blood. “You finally became a man.”

  Dr. Walker’s eyes faded and alighted on Poe. His eyes grew wide.

  “He… He is infected?” he said.

  “No,” Hugo said. “I mean, yes. But he’s immune.”

  “He…” Dr. Walker said. “He…?”

  He barked a laugh, wads of black blood.

  “He is the missing piece!” he said. He looked at Hugo and gripped his arm with surprising strength. “Finish my work. With him. The boy. He’s… beautiful.”

  He turned to Dana.

  “I… I am sorry,” he said. “For everything. But you have one thing more to do… You can’t leave the subjects here…”

  “Subjects?” Dana said. “The zombies? Why would we release them?”

  “Not those subjects,” Dr. Walker said. “The others.”

  Something clanged at the end of the corridor, in the direction of the entrance. Then the unmistakable groan that had taken the world by storm rose in a gang of torn throats.

  “They are here?” Dr. Walker said. “But how? No. It doesn’t matter. There’s… another… another way out… To the south. Go.”

  Blood was rapidly flooding his lungs. He choked, coughing and spurting. He drowned, laying back and letting it take him. His body grew still.

  “I’m sorry, Hugo,” Dana said. “He’s gone.”

  Hugo wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

  “I know,” he said. “He was never very good to me. I don’t know why I should feel so sad.”

  “You should,” Dana said. “He was your father. I wasn’t close to mine either, but I was still rocked when I found him dead. A little.”

  More zombie groans, rattling up the hall.

  “We need to get out of here,” Hugo said, bending down to help brace Dana’s weight. “I hope my father was telling us the truth about the other exit.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Dana said.

  “Because he’s my father,” Hugo said. “But he sounded like he was really taking this cure business seriously. There’s no reason to suppose he wasn’t being honest about it.”

  “Wait,” Dana said, noticing the bulge under Dr. Walker’s lab coat.

  She took the keycard from around his neck and put it on.

  Hugo grabbed a mound of paperwork from off his father’s desk and shoved them in a trash bin. He picked it up and handed it to Poe. They ran down the corridor.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dana pulled a laminated map off the wall. She ran a finger over it until she came to their current location.

  “This way,” she said.

  The undead were not yet visible from the corridor, but their stench was unmistakable. It followed them everywhere, like a protective aura. The exit Hugo’s father had told them about passed the area where they kept the subjects. They might as well drop by if they were passing it anyway. If they could spring the subjects loose without adding harm to themselves, they would do so. Besides, it was possible they knew a great deal more about this research facility than they did. Almost certain, in fact.

  And the possibility of finding a cure… Was it possible?

  “This way,” Dana said.

  They got to the end of the corridor and closed the door gently behind themselves. Let the undead explore every nook and cranny of the facility. It would give them a little more time to escape.

  Dana took a step, then paused when she saw the main research chamber. The walls were once again pure white, unblemished by color. The room had been divided in half. Along one wall was a long pane of glass. People stood behind it. They wore hospital gowns. They were all girls and women, a variety of ages. They might have been the occupants of a fancy modern prison. Each cell had the mod cons, including games, electricity, and TVs. Some were tucking into food that was dispensed from a vending machine at one end of the chamber.

  They looked up and saw Dana, Hugo, and Poe. A mixture of hope and fear painted their faces. They ran to the wall, pointed and shouted. Their voices were silent. Soundproof glass. Dana and Hugo headed in the direction they pointed. The subjects followed from inside.

  Dana came to an upright terminal. It asked for verification before any commands could be input. Dana pressed the keycard she’d taken from Dr. Walker to the reader. The light blinked from red to green.

  Hugo took over, searching the system before figuring out how to input the ‘Open door’ command. The entire wall shifted to one side, forming a space the women could fit through two abreast.

  “Everyone over here,” Dana said. “We’re new. We don’t know what’s been going on here. But we will get you out. Dr. Walker told us about the south exit. Does anyone know how to get to it?”

  “Dana?” a small voice said.

  The blood froze in Dana’s veins. She couldn’t move. It was the voice from her dreams, from her nightmares. Now it was in her ears. Right here, right now. A thick hot wad formed in the back of her throat. She could hardly breathe. She almost daren’t turn around for fear the hope that had reignited and burned like an inferno in her chest would be starved of its oxygen.

  But she did turn around.

  And there she was. Standing in her hospital gown amongst the other subjects.

  Dana cupped her hands over her mouth and let out a shriek. Tears bloomed and spilled down her cheeks.

  “Dana?” Max repeated. “Is that you?”

  Dana nodded, letting the tears come. She couldn’t believe it really was Max. She fell to her knees and ran her hands over her. As if she was a ghost. Perhaps she was. Dana didn’t care. Let her live with lies and delusions. It beat the real world. But no ghost could feel so real wrapped in Dana’s arms. No spirit could have wheezed the way that was so familiar to Dana. Max didn’t care. She wouldn’t complain. She squeezed Dana just as hard with her limited strength.

  “I’ve missed you so much!” Dana said. “So so so much!

  “I don’t understand,” Hugo said. “I saw her in the basement of the university. She was wearing the beads…”

  Max still wore her beads in her hair now.

  “I made a friend,” Max said. “Angeline. She was crying and upset, so I gave her some of my beads. She was happy after that. Where is she now?”

  “She’s… gone,” Dana said. “I’m sorry, Max. She’s at peace now. At least we could give her that.”

  “Sorry to break up this beautiful moment,” Hugo said, “but we need to get out of here. This place is about to become populated with the worst houseguests you could imagine.”

  The groans grew louder.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  They followed the map, running until their legs ached. Hugo and some of the women picked up the smaller kids who couldn’t keep up, carrying them down the seemingly endless corridors.

  Finally, they came to a large security door, similar to the one they entered through in the first place. Dana placed Dr. Walker’s keycard on th
e reader. The light blinked and the door opened. The undead were getting closer. They’d spotted them and were chasing them, hot on their heels.

  They ran through to the other side. Dana took out the three keys and placed one in each keyhole. Together they turned them. The door began to close.

  “Come on,” Dana said. “Come on, come on.”

  The door was closing slowly. Too slowly. The undead were closing.

  “It’s not going to shut in time,” Dana said. “Max. You take the others through this corridor and out the other side. Poe, can you lead them back to the house?”

  Poe nodded.

  “He looks slow,” Dana said. “But he’s sharper than the rest of us put together.”

  “No,” Max said. “I want to stay here with you.”

  “No,” Dana said. “You have to go, Max. I’ll see you back at the house. Please do this, do this for me.”

  “But I don’t want to get split up from you again,” Max said.

  “You won’t be,” Dana said. “It’s just for now. I’ll know where to find you.”

  A red light blinked and the door began to open again. Slowly, purposefully. It wasn’t going to shut. There had been an obstruction.

  “Promise?” Max said, extending her pinky finger.

  “Promise,” Dana said, linking her own pinky through Max’s.

  Max hugged her older sister.

  “I kept my promise this time, didn’t I?” Dana said. “Nothing can keep me from you. Nothing.”

  Max smiled and gave Dana a kiss on the cheek. She and the others ran down the corridor.

  Dana and Hugo turned to face the door, the arms and legs of the undead reaching and stretching to get out. Hugo had his trusty knife, Dana her sword. She pressed a hand to her side. The blood had stopped running, but it still didn’t look too good.

  “It’s been nice knowing you,” Hugo said.

  “No, it hasn’t,” Dana said. “But look, as I’m unlikely to get a chance to do this again so…”

  Dana leaned over and pressed her lips to Hugo. First on the cheek, and then deep and hard on the mouth.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For coming to rescue me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Hugo said, touching where Dana had kissed him. “That was almost worth dying for.”

  “Liar,” Dana said.

  “Must be catching,” Hugo said.

  The undead began to shuffle into the room.

  “You know, it’s funny,” Dana said. “Up until now, I always had something to keep me from dying, to keep going, to never stop. Now, I’ve got something to live for.”

  “But that’s the same thing,” Hugo said.

  “Maybe,” Dana said. “But they sure feel different.”

  They raised their weapons, roared, and ran at the approaching wall of undead.

  Epilogue

  The house Poe led them to was big and super secure, Max thought. Since they’d arrived, Poe wouldn’t stop following her. She didn’t mind. She liked making new friends. But she didn’t like losing them. Some of the other subjects had decided to leave, to go find other family members. Poe had whined against them leaving, but they didn’t listen.

  Max sat on the roof overlooking the river and the island in the distance. She sat on the edge and dangled her legs over the side. Poe sat beside her.

  She had given up all hope of ever seeing her sister again. After she’d be put in a truck, she’d been taken to a large building with lots of soldiers. A sign said it was a university, but she didn’t see many students. She was moved from one room to another. It was all very scary. The scientists kept doing tests on her, taking her blood and checking her heart rate. She didn’t like that very much. She had never been a fan of needles. But they always gave her ice cream afterward, so it wasn’t too bad.

  That was when she first met Dr. Walker. He was always nice to her and the other women. The other doctors and nurses said it was because of him that they took their blood, but she couldn’t believe that. She thought it was really because of the bad doctors. There were lots of them.

  Then one day there were lots of explosions. They took the women and girls in white away in a helicopter and left the ones dressed in grey in the building. Max was glad she was leaving the university, but she wasn’t very happy she was leaving her friend Angeline behind.

  Max had never flown in a helicopter before. It was super-duper fun. She wished she could take a helicopter all the time. She liked whooshing over the forest and seeing all the animals. But she didn’t get to see many of them. They put them in the big room with glass walls. And that’s where she stayed for the past week or so.

  Dana was right to tell them to follow Poe. Some of the others didn’t want to trust him because he couldn’t explain anything to them when they asked him questions. But Max knew Dana. She would trust her whatever she said. Poe had clearly been to these areas before and even found a small rowboat to take them across the river to this large house. They had to go back and forward a few times to pick everyone up, but eventually, they did it.

  The house was empty, except for a grumpy old woman who no one liked. She saw Max that first day, her eyes latching onto her. She grumbled to herself under her breath. Max couldn’t hear what she said. That was probably a good thing. Then the old woman went back to her armchair in the living room. She went to sleep and never woke up again. They buried her outside next to the other dead bodies. No one was upset.

  Max touched the beads in her hair like she did every time she thought about her sister.

  Max felt sad sometimes, usually when she thought about her sister and leaving her behind in that place. One day, Max would go and do what Dana had done for her and go to find her. When she was old enough. She hoped she would see her older sister again one day.

  Poe had been upset for a long time too when they left Dana and Hugo behind. He whimpered all the way through the forest. And when he started squealing this time, Max mistook it for the same feeling. But then she realized he couldn’t sit still, kept squirming. It was with joy.

  Max looked in the direction Poe was staring. In the middle of the river was a small rowboat. It was drawing toward them. It got halfway across when Max saw what Poe had already spotted. There was a pair of silhouettes in the boat. One looked very familiar.

  A broad grin stretched Max’s face. No one could ever break a pinky promise. Ever.

  An Additional Gift From the Author

  I hope you enjoyed the Resistant series. If you did, you’ll love my other series Blood Memory. As a special gift I’m giving you an exclusive behind-the-scenes peek of its opening. Details of how to grab the next book are available after the excerpt.

  -EXCERPT-

  Blood Memory

  Book One

  1.

  Anne recognized the sound. She’d heard it dozens of times over the past week. She peered over the boat’s edge. The fog was so thick she couldn’t see more than a few feet beyond the prow.

  At thirty-two, with a thin wiry body and dirty blonde hair that barely reached the nape of her neck, climbing over the thirty-eight foot Viking yacht was easy for Anne, though her legs and arms still bore the scratches and bruises from the first few turbulent days on board. She held onto the railing that wrapped around the cabin’s roof and edged along the narrow rim to the stern.

  A body floated in the water. Only the torso was visible, the legs lost to the fog. The man’s head patted the boat with a hollow thud, the cause of the sound she’d heard. The man would have been handsome if it wasn’t for the puckered purple cut across his left cheek, his pallid skin, and nose bent at a broken angle.

  “Joel?” Anne’s words were muffled by the fog. “Come up here!”

  She listened but there was no reply. She stomped her foot on the deck like a buck calling a female.

  “What?” a voice called out.

  “Come up here a minute.”

  Joel grumbled as he ascended the stairs. He was a thirty-year-old walnut-haired broad-chested Austra
lian more accustomed to the Outback than the ocean. Upon seeing the body he said, “Bloody hell, not another floater. Can’t we just toss it back?”

  “You know we can’t.”

  Joel cupped his hands around his mouth and called down the stairs. “Yo! Stan! Come up here!”

  Pigeon-chested Stan McIntyre was two inches shy of Joel’s six feet two, but he had a bearing his past life as a school teacher had imbued him with that made him seem taller.

  “Where are the girls?” Anne asked.

  “Inside with Mary,” Stan said.

  “Do we have to do this one?” Joel whined. “Can’t we just let him be? Respect the dead, and all that.”

  “Not when he might have something in his pocket that could aid us,” Stan said.

  Joel blew out an exasperated puff of air. “All right then. Let’s get this over with.”

  Joel and Stan took an arm each and pulled the body on board. Water splashed and pooled over the deck.

  “Whose turn is it to turn out pockets?” Stan asked.

  “I did it last night,” Joel said.

  “And I did it this morning.”

  “Me too,” Anne said.

  Joel rolled his eyes. “Great.” He rooted through the man’s pockets. He screwed up his face. “Nothing. I knew there wouldn’t be. Let’s toss him back.” Joel hooked his hands into the crook of the body’s arms and lifted him up until he was almost standing. He was about to push it over the side when the body wheezed a gasping breath. Joel’s eyes went wide and he dropped the body.

  “Jesus Christ! The bugger’s still alive!”

  “Is he one of them, do you reckon?” Stan said, picking up a length of iron kept for such occasions.

  Anne reached over slowly, keeping a close eye on the man, and put her fingers to his wrist. “He has a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.”

  “He can’t be alive, can he?” Joel said, hand on his chest like he was going to suffer a heart attack. “He must be one of them. None of the others were alive.”