Morbid Hearts (Dead Hearts Book 1)

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  “All of your friends are here, so you need to mingle,” said Rafe. Savannah flashed her fangs at him, but the man didn’t notice. In the shadows, Logan’s hand found his gun.

  “Be a good girl and leave him alone,” Rafe continued. “You and I are in a relationship that’s very special. How are you making everyone swoon over you like you’re a goddess?”

  “It’s just my way,” said Savannah. “I couldn’t do it before. I want everyone to fall at my feet and worship me. Look at them! They’re holding on to my every word and gesture.” She tapped the scavenger on the nose. “Hey big boy, want to go to my room?”

  Rafe’s eyes found Logan in a corner. He noticed how he watched Savannah with suspicion as she played the room.

  “I know it’s late, but dinner’s on,” shouted Marge from the kitchen.

  People funneled into the kitchen, sharing lusty looks with Savannah as they passed by. Rafe noticed the cellar door open and two small forms appear in the foyer. Soon they were among the scavengers and all attention was on them. Cinder and Cerberus found costumes straight from Camelot. A long white gown, laced with pearls, adorned the queen, while the little lord strutted about in a blue velvet doublet, tights, and boots. They collected words of praise and admiration from their new fans.

  “Did someone say dinner?” Cinder asked, purring. Her fangs extended.

  “Let’s eat,” Savannah said.

  The vampires raced into the kitchen. Screams of terror and frantic scuffling told Rafe all he needed to know. It would be a slaughterhouse within minutes. Logan finally drew his gun, a steeled look on his face.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” Rafe warned. “If you leave I won’t stop you, Logan. But if you’re going, do it now.”

  “And here I took you for a good guy.”

  “Not by a long shot,” said Rafe.

  The tall man took too long, something dark in his expression. Rafe sped to the door, opened it, and propelled Logan outside. Logan stumbled hard down the stairs.

  Rafe left the door open and went back inside. People scattered in all directions, trying to escape the kitchen. Only those who found the front door lived. A young woman limped into the foyer, blood streaming from two puncture holes in her neck.

  She ran toward Rafe. It was a mistake.

  Overwhelmed by her scent, Rafe caught hold of her, sinking his fangs into her neck. He lost himself as the warmth filled his mouth. Unwilling to stop, he drained every last drop and let her limp body fall. Eyes aglow, Rafe was at another man’s side in an instant, mauling his neck like a savage. He let the body slide to the ground when the man was empty. Disgusted with his own weakness, Rafe stumbled to the living room and sank into a couch. Several humans were hiding behind the furniture. Pretending they weren’t there seemed the best solution, but his indifference didn’t last.

  “For God’s sake,” said Rafe. “Open the window and slip into the night, you stupid scavengers. Take your car and leave. You have three seconds. They’re coming.”

  A mad scramble sent them running for the window. One threw a chair through the window and leapt without looking. The other two disappeared through the broken glass an instant before Savannah burst into the room, carrying a woman in her arms. Placing the listless human on the carpet in front of Rafe, Savannah bit into her own wrist and placed the wound against the woman’s mouth. She didn’t respond. Savannah rubbed her wrist across the slack mouth, growing angry when there was no reaction.

  “What are you doing?” asked Rafe. “Is she dead?”

  “This is Daisy. I always thought she was attractive, but she never noticed me. Why don’t you turn a few? Let’s give her your blood and see if that works.”

  The queen and lord appeared in the doorway, red with gore. The children stared at Rafe as if they were to be punished. Rafe walked into the foyer, seeing bodies and blood everywhere and suppressed the urge to wring their little necks.

  “Did you bite everyone?” inquired Rafe. “Are they all dead?”

  “Not all.” Cerberus leaned into the foyer and beckoned Rafe. “You better get in here.

  Something is wrong with Daisy. Savannah can’t get her to wake up.”

  Groans and snarls emerging from the living room and kitchen announced their new family had not been turned into vampires. Rafe found a sword hanging on the wall and retrieved it with superhuman speed. He cut down every zombie before the infestation spread further than the foyer.

  “Savannah!” shouted Rafe. “Help me!”

  “No, Savannah,” said Cinder. “Stay here with us. It’s Rafe’s job to protect us.”

  With a frustrated yell, Rafe charged into the living room, beheaded Daisy, and returned to the kitchen. Rafe spared the new vampires. With glowing blue eyes they sniffed the air, hungry for what few humans remained in the mansion.

  “All of you come in here,” said Cerberus, snarling. He herded the vampires into the room and turned toward Rafe. “Search for other zombies and kill them while I explain things to our new friends. If you find any humans, lock them up with the soldiers. We’ll eat them tomorrow.”

  Rafe lifted his hand to strike Cerberus, but resisted when he saw the new vampires ready to attack him. He swung the sword toward the boy and let the tip rest on his small shoulder. Cinder and Savannah clung to one another, fearing for Cerberus’ safety, afraid to challenge Rafe. Their pleading looks were all that kept him from killing the demon child.

  “This is how things are going to be,” said Rafe, angry. “From what I can tell, Savannah can’t turn anyone into a vampire, she makes only zombies. But Cinder, Cerberus, and I can make other vampires, so we’re the only three who can try it. The rest of you will share your food and kill what you eat. Savannah, no more attempts at making vampires. Ever.”

  “Don’t be mad, Rafe.” Savannah’s voice sounded bittersweet. “We only did what we’re meant to do. The new ones need something to eat. You’re going to have to pick someone out and bring them in here. We’ll wait.”

  Feeling like he was in a nightmare from which he would never wake, Rafe brought in the first person he found and left the poor soul with the demons. The task of finding people hiding throughout the mansion proved easy. When Rafe had gathered them all, he placed the scavengers in a room next to the soldiers. Rafe then looked in on the soldiers. Sarge was terrified. The soldiers heard the chaos in the kitchen and begged Rafe for their release.

  “Don’t try to escape,” Rafe told them. “If you do, I may not be able to protect you. This place is now crawling with hungry vampires. I’m the only one who cares and I don’t even know why, so don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

  “But Rafe, you’ve got fangs,” said Sarge. “You’re one of them.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  Shutting the door, Rafe returned to the foyer. The new vampires had finished their prey and sat on the floor in front of Cinder and Cerberus. Savannah crept up the staircase, and Rafe went after her. He thought he had checked every room, but Savannah opened a door and screams shook the walls. She twirled into the room and jumped on the bed. Four people crawled out from hiding hoping to escape. Savannah looked under the bed, and pulled a fifth person out by their hair. The woman tore free, leaving a handful of blonde strands in the vampire’s grasp.

  “There are five lovely people here to eat,” Savannah sang out. “Shall we share them or lock them up with the other cattle? Or will you turn another?

  “I’d rather not,” said Rafe. “I’ve seen enough tonight.”

  “You don’t have the stomach for this,” she accused. “Shall we let one or two escape to spread our little tale of horror? It might reach your precious Cadence. Oh, Cinder told me all about Cadence.”

  Rafe noticed that Savannah’s dress was littered with bullet holes, yet her skin was perfect, unmarred.

  “These people were your friends,” said Rafe. “Just let them go. Let them go and spread the tale. That should appease your appetite for fear.”

  “People w
ill hear of us and more will come to try and destroy us. Send them out. I won’t say anything.”

  Rafe led all five humans out. The humans ran to their cars, except for one. He froze and stared at people he had known, peering out at him from the living room. Rafe took the terrified man by the arm and led him outside.

  “Listen to me! You have to get out of here!”

  “What are you?” asked the man, finding his voice.

  “Not sure. Maybe I’m a modern vampire,” said Rafe. “I suggest you get into one of those cars, roll up the windows and get out of here. I’m not sure where Logan went, but I’d go south. Get on the highway and keep going, don’t ever look back.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  Highbrow sat on a motorcycle peering through binoculars, studying the Broadmoor Hotel. Nomad perched nearby on a Harley. The Fighting Tigers sat behind them in a salvaged Jeep, waiting for Highbrow’s decision. The luxury hotel was a disemboweled shell of former glory. The team came into town to find antibiotics for a boy who had broken his leg and was running a high fever. They saw the hotel on the way to the pharmacy and stopped to investigate. Highbrow handed the binoculars to Nomad.

  “Take a look. Are they your people?”

  Highbrow believed there were pockets of zombies lingering in the city. The hotel was prime for an attack if anybody was around. Nomad scanned the area and grunted.

  “What do you think, Mr. Motorcycle? Friend or foe?”

  “That’s Logan’s Hummer,” said Nomad. He lowered the binoculars. “Look, you have every reason not to bring anyone else into your camp. I wouldn’t blame you for torching the place, but you and I think alike. We believe every human is a soul that needs to be saved. Have it out with Logan later, but we need to make contact and convince any survivors to return with us.”

  “Oh, I’ll have it out with that guy,” said Highbrow, feeling his temper rise. “No doubt there, but he has to be crazy to stay around here.”

  “Men do strange things when they’re desperate, son. If Logan’s here, it’s for good reason. There really isn’t anywhere else to go, unless it’s the middle of nowhere and game is scarce these days. Starvation and thirst are cause enough to remain in town. We’ll have to be careful if we go inside.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” Highbrow chewed on his lip. Nomad handed back the binoculars. “It’s your call.”

  “We could use supplies, anyway.”

  Highbrow glanced back at his patrol. Freeborn manned the mounted M60 and Blaze commanded the wheel. Whisper rode shotgun with a constant eye out for any non-human activity. Dodger and Smack were just happy to be out on patrol and enjoying the ride.

  Taking it slow, Highbrow led the team through a street framed by little houses that seemed untouched by time, a true picture of American life before the Scourge. A stray dog crossed in front of them, skinny, but alive. Rounding an overturned school bus, Highbrow and Nomad came close to slamming into a tank abandoned by the National Guard. Picking up speed again, they reached the pharmacy in minutes. The windows were broken, and trash littered the parking lot. Several cars had collided with each other and the corner of the pharmacy, but all seemed quiet otherwise. No zombies lingered, and there were no dead bodies anywhere in sight.

  Highbrow and Nomad dismounted and paused to put on protective gear. Dodger joined them carrying a large duffle bag and filed in behind Nomad. Nomad raised his shotgun and walked through the frame of where the entrance once greeted customers. Glass crunched under their boots as they spread out to study the building. Dodger stayed behind Nomad, grabbing items off the shelves as they moved along. Highbrow brought up the rear, remaining vigilant. He knew they were never really alone.

  “Hurry up,” Highbrow called out. “This place reeks!”

  Nomad reached back and grabbed Dodger by the arm. “Kid, get what you’re going to get and move fast.”

  As Dodger scampered off filling his bag, Nomad walked the aisles, stuffing his pockets with more supplies. Highbrow moved with caution following Nomad, expecting a wanderer to appear any moment. Dodger slid behind the pharmacy counter where the best meds were kept. Within minutes, they had what they needed and a lot more.

  “I really scored,” Dodger grinned. “If we could sell this stuff, we’d be rich. I grabbed a few inhalers for Luna. She has asthma, you know.”

  Highbrow signaled thumbs up as a loud groan came from the back of the store. He readied his pistol as Nomad and Dodger hurried through the shattered storefront. A grandma who never made it out of her curlers and slippers spotted Highbrow and moaned with hunger. She shuffled toward him as best she could with one eye hanging from its socket. Highbrow placed a bullet in her skull, splattering the shelves with black ooze before her face met the floor.

  Dodger shouted at Highbrow and he spun in panic. Sneaking up behind him was a former baseball player, missing his lower jaw and an arm. Nomad pulled Highbrow behind him and put a round in the walker’s ball cap. Black blood sprayed their goggles. Highbrow was glad for the protection and ripped the mask off in disgust.

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to shout,” said Dodger, fighting back panic.

  “It’s all good.” Highbrow patted Dodger on the shoulder. “Thanks for getting my back.” “Let’s get out of here. Apparently zombies like drugs,” suggested Nomad.

  They returned to their bikes, reloaded and did a quick wipe of their gear. Taking a moment to breathe in the cool air, Highbrow strapped on his riding goggles and scanned the deserted streets. Freeborn, Blaze, and Whisper were locked, loaded, and eyes peeled.

  “Where now, boss?” asked Smack. “All that gunfire is sure to bring in more. We need to get moving.”

  “We’re headed to the Broadmoor Hotel,” said Highbrow. “Nomad identified people he knows there. We don’t know if they are in trouble or will cause it, so no screwing around. This is as close to a Code 4 as you can get while on patrol.” He noticed movement on the street. It was the stray dog running from a slow moving group of zombies. “Let’s head out.”

  The team threaded their way back to the main street. For a moment it was clear, then zombies came coursing out of doorways, appearing behind abandoned cars and dumpsters trying to corral them. Freeborn fired into the pack, cutting into their numbers as they cruised through town. As they approached the hotel, a few stragglers appeared and Freeborn dispatched them with pleasure.

  Highbrow drove around and parked near the back door, while Nomad circled Logan’s Hummer and a number of other vehicles parked near it. Blaze brought the patrol to a screeching halt near Nomad and jumped out.

  “Did you see all of those zombies?” Smack asked, chomping her bubble gum. “This place is crawling.” Dodger punched her in the shoulder. She returned the favor and snapped. “Stop that!”

  “Knock it off, we’re going inside. Get ready,” said Highbrow. “Nomad, you can do the talking if we run into your friends. Freeborn, Whisper, stay with the vehicle and watch the perimeter. Blaze, bring up the rear.”

  Finding Logan, or anyone else, would be difficult and Highbrow knew it. Hotels were great locations for zombies to hide, and searching them was dangerous. They entered the demolished lobby, streaked with blood and signs of mayhem.

  Dodger let out a soft whistle. He pointed his rifle toward a zombie missing the flesh from his face, staggering through a side hallway. Blaze stepped forward and engaged her crossbow, making her mark between its eyes.

  “We’ll search the floors in groups,” whispered Highbrow. “Blaze, Dodger, and Smack, you guys take the even floors. Nomad and I will search the odd ones. Don’t waste time and don’t take chances. We’ll meet outside in thirty minutes.”

  “Let’s just go honk the horn a few times,” Blaze said. “If this Logan turkey wants to join us, then he’ll hightail it or we’ll leave him. Duh!”

  Highbrow glared at Blaze, who made a face in return and walked away with Dodger and Smack. Highbrow and Nomad crept through the first floor, checking all the major
dining rooms and event halls. Any zombie they found had been recently killed.

  “As much as I dislike this guy, I respect how thorough he is.” Highbrow walked out from a sports bar, gifting Nomad with a bottle of whiskey. “Just don’t drink it until we get home. There’s more if we want to make a trip back into town later.”

  “I prefer dirty martinis,” said Nomad. “Ever have a Manhattan?”

  “No idea what that is, unless you mean a girl from New York. Then the answer is no.”

  The first floor was vacant, so they took the stairs to the third floor. Lifeless zombies were strewn through the stairwell and into the hallway. Highbrow assessed the rooms on the right, and Nomad the opposite. In every room, Highbrow discovered a different scene. People had committed suicide, starved to death, or were rotting in tubs. Some had died as humans, others had experienced two deaths.

  By the time Highbrow met with Nomad again, his new friend had picked up two more rifles, a backpack, and a loaded revolver. Highbrow didn’t think to gather anything along the way. He was so used to the old rules that he let an opportunity slip by. Running footsteps brought Dodger their way. He was alone.

  “We’ve got problems,” said Dodger, catching his breath. “We looked out the windows from the sixth floor and all those deadheads we left back at the pharmacy found their way here. Freeborn and Whisper aren’t where we left them either. We can hear gunfire, so I think they drove around the hotel and are circling back.”

  “Logan has to be here,” said Nomad, then shouted as loud as he could. “Logan!” His voice echoed through the hallway.

  “We need to make a run for it.” Dodger tapped the end of his revolver against his cheek. “Nobody is here. Let’s take the Hummer and blow this joint. Blaze can hotwire anything with wheels. So?”

  Highbrow looked at Nomad. “We can’t wait for Logan and his buddies. I’m not getting pinned down in a hotel,” He pointed to Dodger. “Go get the girls and meet us in the lobby. Get Whisper on the radio and tell them to go back to the motorcycles and clear out those zombies. We’ll hold them off until you get back downstairs.”