****
I made myself remain as still as possible, knowing that his trust was weak, understandably of course. I decided to start at the beginning.
“I was running from a storm and beyond exhausted. I found a grocery store and broke in. There was a girl in there, Kelle. She was sixteen if she was a day.” Standing, I walked over to the window and resisted the urge to pull back the curtains.
“I heard a noise in the walk-in cooler and opened the door. Turns out that Kelle had locked her family-turned-zombie in there. After I was bitten, turned, or whatever; I thought I was dead. Everything went black and still. Just empty. But then I woke up.”
“Keep talking, I’m listening.”
Arms crossed defensively over his chest, I didn’t know how much of my story he believed, but I kept on. “When I came to, I was tied to a table and my body had healed. My heart had been ripped from my chest but I still turned. The doctor there told me that I was an Alpha. You’ve seen the zombies that seem to be leaders, right? I guess I’m one of those, only stronger. He was trying to figure out why I’m able to speak and heal.”
“How did you escape?” He stayed on the other side of the room from me, well out of my reach, or so he thought. I could be on him and have my teeth in his neck in seconds. His heartbeat was loud in my ears, and I could smell the blood flowing beneath his skin. If I could sweat, I would have, just from the effort it took not to rip him apart. I felt like an alcoholic in need of a drink while standing at the back of an AA meeting. Force of will alone kept me from tasting the sweet, candy-like flesh of his neck.
I hesitated, knowing he wouldn’t like to hear about me attacking and eating part of the nurse. I had done it out of desperation, not desire. “I attacked a nurse. Killed her and stole her security badge.” I tried not to think about it, but it was impossible not to remember the warmth of her blood as it slid down my throat, the feel of her heartbeat under my teeth, pounding so fast and hard before slowing; fighting to stay alive until it no longer could. I’d ripped out her throat and pulled open her chest like a foil-wrapped packet of leftovers. I tore her apart with ease, desperate to get to the goodies inside. Shaking loose the memories and the temptations they brought, I took a small step back—keeping myself as far away from Ethan as possible.
He flinched, his hand at his waist, now resting on the handle of his knife. Keen senses honed from months of survival kicked in; he knew what I was thinking.
“Relax. As delicious as you smell, I’m not going to eat you.”
“You know that you telling me I smell delicious doesn’t endear me to you, right? Kind of makes killing you seem like a good idea.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” Rolling my eyes, I continued my story. “They had cells full of the dead. A whole hallway full of rooms. When I walked past them, their eyes followed me. I could hear them, feel them inside my head. They grabbed my arm when I punched through the glass. I told them to stop, to get off me, and they listened.” Shuddering at the memory, I continued, “I let them out, used them as a diversion and escaped.” I decided not to mention Kelle; he looked plenty freaked out without me adding the child-zombie from Hell onto him too.
“I can figure the rest out,” he said, pacing back and forth, and fiddling with the strap of his backpack. “Listen, my instinct is to kill you where you stand.” I tensed, angling my body into the best position possible to attack. “Calm down. I’m not going to. Looks to me like there’s some reason that you’re the way you are. It’s not up to me to decide what that is. You were changed into this, no fault of your own. Have you considered how much good you could do?”
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“If I were to believe you, and I’m not saying I do. Say you can hear and command the zombies, could you, I don’t know, order them off a cliff or something?”
His idea gave me pause. This was all so new and had happened so fast I hadn’t thought about it. He was right, I could influence the dead. Maybe I could be the undead superhero? I needed a name and a catch phrase. As long as I didn’t have to wear tights or have my tits hanging out everywhere while a pair of short-shorts rode up my ass, we were good.
****
Kelle licked her fingers clean, the blood sticky and sweet like red honey. “That was amazing, was it good for you?” She laughed, looking down at the body of a teenage boy. His insides were still warm enough to steam wetly in the frigid air. The snow around his body stained a red so bright it was nearly florescent. From his neck to groin he was empty, as if he’d been hollowed out with a giant spoon. “No spoon, just me,” she sang in a singsong voice. “Just me—just me.”
She continued to sing as she danced across the snow. Her tracks were red from the blood dripping off of her. Able to hear heartbeats, she was a destructive force that was able to gain entry into every survivor’s house or camp she came upon. They trusted her because she could talk, attributing her blood soaked body and grey skin to being in the wild alone. A pretty young girl couldn’t be a threat, right? How wrong they were. She took joy in decimating every group that she came across. In the day and night since she’d escaped the facility she’d managed to infiltrate and destroy three groups, nearly a dozen people. Behind her, like a Pied Piper of zombies, she led a growing horde. After eating her fill, she opened the doors of the barn where the boy had been a lookout, and basked in the screams that filled the air.
“It sure is good to be me.” Throwing her arms wide in the falling flakes, Kelle danced and twirled. Full of energy and stolen life, she was joyous in her destruction. Soon screams filled the night, only to be cut short as throats were eaten, abdomens opened, and the warm entrails pulled free.
“Now to track that bitch, Molly, and make her pay for what she’s done.” Reaching mental fingers outward, she felt the dead around her. Their empty minds were commanded easily, no spark left in their craniums. Her feet remained rooted to the earth and she mentally stretched further and deeper into the forest, searching for a spark. Skipping over animals, startled by her prodding they fled into the trees. Over a hill and across a field, there—a house, and within it, the warmth of a human and the answering cold fire of Molly.
“Got ya.” Kelle’s eyes snapped open and her grin was as evil as they come. “One, two, three, ready or not, here I come!”
Chapter Twelve
I jerked as if shocked, putting a hand to my forehead. The hell? Shaking my head, hoping to lose the strange feeling, I caught Ethan staring at me again.
“Look, I know I’m somewhat of an oddity, but this ain’t no freak show, dude.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked a hip to the side and glared at him.
“I can’t help it, sorry,” he said from the floor where he sat, his back against the wall as close to the door as he could be and still be in the room.
He pulled his pack closer and then rooted around inside before pulling out a granola bar and a bottle of water. It seemed like only hours ago that I remembered doing the same thing.
“So, back to the superhero theory. You think I should turn into some sort of undead killer queen?”
“Think about it,” he said around a mouthful of food. “If you can boss them around, why not? Maybe you alone can’t rid the world of our zombie problem but the more you kill, the less there are to eat the few people left.”
“Where do you factor into it?”
Laughing, he took a drink of water, then recapped it and put it away. “Nowhere. Sorry lady, but I want to get as far away from you as possible. No offense.”
I was slightly taken aback. Was I that bad? Oh yeah, talking zombie… so yes, I was. “Well, okay then. I’ll just be on my way. After all, I’m dead. A little blizzard can’t kill me, right?” Walking to the window I pulled back the curtain and saw that the storm seemed to have intensified, something I hadn’t thought possible. Great. “Never mind. I can’t see the ground. I fucking hate snow.”
“Why do I feel guilty right now?”
Glancing at him over my shoulder
, I raised an eyebrow in response. “That’s between you and your conscience. Either way, I’m done with this conversation. It’s getting close to self-recrimination, apologies, and life-stories. I don’t do that. I found this room first, so if you could, ya know, go find your own, that’d be great.” I smiled my best customer service smile and waited.
“Nah. I don’t think so. Maybe I believe your story, maybe not, but either way I’m not letting you out of my sight while we’re in the same building.”
“I already said I wasn’t going to eat you and I meant it.” Even as I said it I understood his motivation. If I was in his place I’d have killed me by now.
“Be that as it may, I don’t trust strangers. Even before the world went to shit. The apocalypse has drained what little trust I had.” Standing, he shouldered his pack. “Did you check out the rest of the rooms?”
“No. Don’t need to. I hear heartbeats, remember? And zombies don’t bother me now.” I thought about telling him about the bathroom but figured I’d let him find that surprise on his own.
I continued to stare out the window while he left to look around. My mind went back to that strange sharp pain I’d had. It had disappeared as quickly as it had come. It felt similar to when I’d “talked” to the dead in the bunker, but this was more powerful. My thoughts automatically drifted to Kelle. Was she trying to track me? Fuck, I hoped not. The last thing I wanted was a zombie battle royale in the snow. Could we maybe reschedule for the spring? The more I thought about it though, the surer I was that it was her. It made sense to my gut in a way that was hard to explain.
I needed to make a plan. Maybe I needed to test my abilities and see how strong I really was. Running through the forest was one thing, fighting zombies was another. I shivered at the memory of the weird mental connection I had with them in the lab. It was like my head had been full of worms, all of them wriggling together at once.
Ethan came back into the room, moments later. “This is the only slightly habitable room.” He cast a disgusted look at the trash and mess lying in piles. “Looks like we’re stuck together for now.”
“Take the bed.” I turned back to the window and watched the snow continue to fall. “When the storm stops, I’ll leave.” I didn’t tell him but I may not wait that long. I scared the crap out of him and that’s the last thing I wanted. I felt enough like a freak just by myself, being around him and practically smelling his fear made it that much worse.
“How do I know you’re not going to rip my throat out while I’m sleeping?”
“You don’t. I give you my word that I’m not going to, but there’s no practical reason for you to believe that.” I shrugged. My emotions, what I had of them, were pin-balling around in my head. I didn’t know what to think or feel. Everything was more now. The weight of every decision was heavier, fear had a taste, worry a thick smell that stuck in my nose and throat. I knew that I should at least attempt to be considerate of his fear of me, but my own self-horror overrode it.
“You’re right, I don’t believe you.” His shoulders tensed and I could smell the change in him. Fear was a thick, sickly sweet smell, like stale sweat and honey. His hand went to the knife on his waist and I was on him before he even finished his thought.
Grabbing him by the throat I hoisted him up and against the wall. I kept the pressure just light enough that he could still breathe but there was no chance of him getting loose. His hands pawed at mine, nails clawing desperately.
“See how easy that was? With a flick of my wrist I could snap your fucking neck and take joy in the sound.” I squeezed harder, his flesh felt as thin as paper under my immense strength. When his face turned purple and his eyes rolled back into his head, I released him. He fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Boneless and heavy. “But I won’t. I told you, I’m not going to kill you. I get that I freak you out, but try walking in my shoes once, pal. I fucking terrify myself.”
Faster than I thought possible for someone halfway to oblivion, he pulled his knife free and buried it hilt-deep in my calf. Screaming in rage, more than pain, I jerked the knife out of my leg. Black blood oozed from the wound, soaking my pants and sock.
“That was a mistake,” I growled. Crouched over my wound, I stalked Ethan with my eyes as he rose above me on trembling legs.
Dropping the knife, I flew upward in an explosion of speed. Using my considerable strength, I pinned him to the wall. His face was inches from mine, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. A few bubbles of blood popped near the corners of his lips. My arm was elbow deep in his chest. I’d punched my fist straight through his body, I could feel his heart twitching against my forearm as it tried desperately to beat. The sharp ends of his broken ribs cut my arm. Ignoring the pain was effortless when a meal was so close at hand.
“P-ple-ease,” he gasped, each breath a struggle. Ethan’s failing body spasmed in pain. His eyes were glassy, staring into my own.
“You had your chance. This is your own fault.” I gave in, even as my mind screamed at me to stop, I sank my teeth into his neck. His flesh was warm, blood hot, and salty. I ripped my hand free, letting his body fall heavily to the floor. I followed it down, sinking to my knees beside him. I let my mind shut off and my instincts take over. I tried not to notice how sweet he tasted or how amazing it felt to eat. The wound on my calf knit back together, stinging and burning as it did so.
I slowed and then finally stopped feeding. Full and stated, my body surged with power. Energized and alert, I felt like I could run for a year and not tire. Cocking my head to the side, I listened, not with my ears, but with my mind. Kelle was coming, I could feel her as an itchy tickle behind my eyes.
“It would be rude not to go out and meet my guest. Very rude indeed. Mother taught me better manners than that.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
About J.B. Havens
J.B. Havens is the author of the military thriller book Core of Steel, the first book in a series that follows the main character, Staff Sergeant Bea “Mic” Michaels, as she leads her elite force on black-ops missions that don’t exist to the public’s knowledge.
Born in Colorado, J.B. moved with her family when she was young and grew up in central Pennsylvania. Her love of books started when she was young, reading the Little House on the Prairie books and Goodsebumps, and graduated into Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series. Her favored books span the spectrum of genres, everything from Stephen King’s The Stand to Mark Tufo’s Zombie Fallout series and all the way to the romance genre.
J.B. has always been fascinated with the military and wanted to explore how a strong female lead would affect a Special Forces operation. This birthed the idea for J.B.’s first book, Core of Steel, which hosts a strong female lead character, Bea Michaels. The series continues to its conclusion with the fourth and final book, Bound by Steel. Also under her belt are one anthology; Beyond the Night, a short story; Ashes & Madness, and two co-authored novellas, No Way In Hell, parts One and Two. She is currently working on the beginning of a zombie horror series featuring the character first introduced in Molly: Survivor which is in the anthology, Beyond the Night. Molly Everett has many more stories to tell and J.B. is anxious to hear them.
Links
Facebook: www.facebook.com/jbhavens
Amazon author page: www.amazon.com/J.-B.-Havens/e/B0165PGWBE
Web: https://jbhavens.wixsite.com/author
Enjoy this free sample of Zombie Instinct book 2, Molly: Immersion
Chapter 1
The smell was overpowering. Thick and viscous, sweet and cloying; it clung to every inch of her skin and hair. Rotting flesh and congealed blood coated her body and of those around her. Her following, her horde of dead, her children. It didn’t matter that some were falling apart or missing limbs, she cared for them just the same. The stench was a part of them and therefore a part of her. They were hers and she was theirs. She could feel their minds, the spark that animated them. The virus inside all of them spoke to her. More than a radio
signal and less than speech, it had no words and no images. It was just the tugging of a thousand strings pulling each of them to her. She was at the center of an intricate web.
Kelle stood among her horde, hiding in a barn. The newly risen sun shone through cracks in the old barn’s walls. The daylight burned like fire, even the weak early light of the winter dawn was like a blowtorch to her eyes. A beam touched her bare arm, the grey skin instantly burning and itching from the touch of light.
“Move!” Shouting wasn’t necessary, but some habits were hard to break. Quicker than speaking, the more she did it the easier it became. With her thoughts, she pictured in her mind what she wanted them to do. She needed a circle, with her in the middle so their bodies would block the light from touching her. The direct sunlight would affect them, but the care of her horde didn’t extend that far. They were tools and while she appreciated their usefulness, they were still just tools that could be replaced.
That was one advantage of the lab: not an ounce of daylight to worry about. It was just cold steel and the dead—a high tech tomb. After Molly locked her inside, she took the time to explore and had freed the first of her horde from their cages. She’d found Molly’s room also; saw the bodies, what was left of them anyway—smelled the blood.
She’d been in her cell, the sweet taste of her meal still lingering on her tongue when looking down she saw the skin of her arms beginning to ripple, heralding searing agony racing through her muscles. Screaming in fear and pain, she fell to the floor on her hands and knees. Her back arched and joints popped as her body transformed. Her clothes ripped and fell to the floor, her arms and legs now too big for the small garments. Her shoulders jerked forward, forcing another scream from her throat as the muscles and tendons shredded apart before rebuilding. Her legs collapsed under her and she fell flat on her face. No longer able to scream, she moaned as her body continued to spasm and twitch as it finished changing with pops and snaps. A black wave of exhaustion pulled her under, her eyes shut, and refused to reopen.
Zombie Instinct (Book 1): Molly (The Beginning) Page 5