by Garth Ono
MASTER OF THE CITY
A Kate Brokenshire Zombie Slayer Adventure, Book 3
By
Garth Ono
* * * * *
Copyright 2017 by Garth Ono
Cover by Jessica Allain
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and locations within either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All characters in this story are 18 years old or older.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
The End
About the Author
Master of the City
A Kate Brokenshire Zombie Slayer Adventure Story, Book 3
"Wow, it's my one year anniversary," Kate said, noticing the date on her phone.
She killed her first zombie while walking home from school with friends. Kate didn't so much decide to slay zombies as the world decided she was the one to do it. People just started to call her when they had a zombie problem, and any zombie in your yard was a big problem. Of course, to her parents' dismay, she jumped into the job with both feet.
"To think I gave up college for this life. Right now I could be sitting in classes all day, and then getting drunk and having sex with frat boys all night," she said with a sigh. "Boy did I make the right decision."
Others thought her decision making suspect.
Kate wasn't smart enough or athletic enough to earn a scholarship, so paying for higher education was another problem. With both parents being school teachers education was a big deal in her family, but money was in short supply.
Her phone rang. "Got Zombies? Kate Brokenshire speaking. How may I help you?"
"It's Morgan," her friend and office manager replied. "Where are you?"
"I just picked up my truck from the shop," she said. The twenty year old Land Rover Defender spent four weeks in the paint and body shop after getting shot up by police and smugglers. Her insurance actually paid for it, minus her $500 co-pay. It felt good to be back in it. "I'm still in the parking lot. Why?"
She was only about two miles from her downtown office. Most of the time when Morgan asked that question it was because she wanted Kate to pick something up at the store. Which meant Kate paid for it.
"We have another call at the Packer home. Two rotters are running amok in his back yard."
A smile tugged at her lips. Morgan really liked to say zombies were running amok. In truth, Kate had never seen a zombie running amok. Though, the living tended to run amok when confronted by a zombie.
"Lovely," she said. "Mr. Packer is in luck. I'm just a few blocks away. Bye."
"Be careful," Morgan replied and ended the call.
Her brown eyes narrowed when she thought about the zombies. A frown spread across her face. The brunette was relieved in a way, since that was their first call in a week. She'd be out of a job if zombies stopped crossing the Mississippi River. Maybe she could talk the city or school district to take her on as a full time zombie slayer, instead of just being on retainer? Of course that would put Morgan out of work.
People waved as she passed through small town Tennyson, Illinois. Everyone recognized her dark green Land Rover. The fact there were magnetic Got Zombies? signs stuck to its door helped, too. Kate was the town's zombie slaying heroine.
Red Packer's house was a nice three bedroom, one bath brick on the eastern outskirts of town. He'd lived there all of Kate's life. Mr. Packer was the scary old man that turned his hose on the kids for playing in his front yard. Now that she was an adult, Kate understood why he did it. Still, he was a little scary to that day.
He opened his front door and shouted, "They're in back. I locked the gate to keep them from escaping, so you'll have to come through the house."
She heard them banging around in back. It sounded like they were pounding their fists into his small steel tool shed. Yeah, zombies weren't the brightest of creatures.
Kate quickly armed up from the back of her Defender. A bandolier of 12-gauge shotgun shells went over her shoulder first, and then she strapped a kukri machete across her back, before buckling a holster with a Browning 9mm around her hips. And last but not least, she picked up her sawed off double-barreled shotgun, named Lupara by her late grandfather.
Lupara was her most cherished possession. She'd just gotten it back a week earlier. The county crime scene people didn't really want to return it. Sheriff Coleman had to get involved and vouch for her. Sawed off shotguns weren't exactly legal, but were known to be effective against zombies.
"Did I ever tell you I carried a sawed off double-barrel like that in Vietnam?" Mr. Packer said when she entered his house. "I did two tours with the Marines."
"Really? That's amazing, sir," she said. Kate'd heard it before. He frequented the diner she used to waitress for, and spent hours with other veterans regaling anyone who would listen with their tales of combat daring and woe. "But I can't compare simple zombie slaying with fighting in a real war."
"If I was fifty years younger, I'd make short work of those rotters," he said. The old man winked at her, reminding Kate that he was one of the more notorious butt pinchers at the diner. She moved just a little out of pinching range. "Then I might chase you around the house a few times."
"Oh my, you are such a scamp, Mr. Packer," she said, making him grin happily.
Kate slipped past him and out the back door, finding the two zombies trying to climb over the six foot privacy fence. Zombies could climb as well as the living, but the rough wooden slats were all on the inside. They couldn't find enough purchase for their feet to get over.
"Hey, zombies, zombies, zombies!" she called. "Mummy wants a new pair of shoes."
She grinned as they turned malevolent eyes on her. Kate thought of them as demon eyes. Pure rage must fill their souls 24/7 to have eyes like that. The zombies were a male and female, early twenties when they died. She couldn't help but wonder if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Both of their throats were torn out, chunks of flesh were hanging from their faces and arms, which were sure signs that they were killed by zombies.
The woman was dressed much like Kate in a tank and jeans. The man wore jeans and a t-shirt. While Kate wore black to hide the blood splatters, their clothes were so soaked in blood she couldn't discern the true colors.
The female reached Kate first.
"You're a runner, aren't you?" she said, extending her arm all the way out with a tight grip on Lupara. The zombie ran straight into the weapon. Just as the barrel touched her neck, Kate pulled the trigger. "Ouch, bet that hurt."
That load of buckshot tore a hole in her throat, completely blowing away the zombie's spinal column. That was the key. One zombie dropp
ed like a rock. Forever dead at last.
"One down, and $75 in my pocket," she said, wagging her brows at the other. "Come on, don't be shy. I'm going to help you rest in peace."
He came at her slower due to a pronounced limp. The rotter practically dragged one leg. From the torn jeans behind that knee, Kate figured he was hamstrung. Didn't matter. In a few he would be dead. Then he lunged at her.
Boom!
She was caught by surprise, so shot him square in the chest. The zombie was knocked straight back to the ground. The shotgun cracked open due to both rounds being spent, so she dropped it to the ground and pulled her machete. Her blade was shaped like the famous weapons of the Nepalese Gurkha troops, designed perfectly to decapitate. Kate even had a kukri knife hanging off the back of her holster belt.
The zombie moved to all fours and came at her again. She danced aside, kicked him in the head, and tried to get a good angle to decapitate. The stupid rotter kept moving and hampering her efforts.
"There's always one who refuses to cooperate," she grumbled. "Hey, zombie!"
The undead monster paused on his knees and twisted around to glare at her. That's all Kate needed. She stepped forward as she swung the inwardly curving machete. His head came off and flew a few feet away. The body remained in that position a long moment, before toppling forward.
"Could you unlock the gate, Mr. Packer?" she called.
Kate put the two heads in a black plastic bag. She had to take them to the sheriff's office for the bounties. After disarming, wiping the blood and gore off of her weapons, she dragged both headless bodies out to the curb. Then she used wet-wipes to clean her hands, arms, and face. Mr. Packer came out at that time.
"Thanks for calling Got Zombies, sir," she said after accepting a check for $50. She had a $25 service charge per zombie. "I'll notify the County Coroner to pick up the bodies."
"No," he said rather adamantly. "It took them three hours to show up last time. Take the bodies with you. Neither I nor my neighbors want them sitting out here. There are small children on this street."
"It's another $50 if I take them," she said. The additional charge was usually enough to change their minds. Not his. He wrote another check. Kate accepted it reluctantly. Killing a zombie was one thing, stuffing his heavy, limp body into a body bag was something entirely different. And harder. "Well, that's just lovely. Thank you."
To his credit, the elderly homeowner helped her get the corpses into body bags. He didn't show the least bit of squeamishness, either. They manhandled the bodies up into the rack atop her Land Rover, and she drove away.
She drove a mile away to a wooded stretch of road with no homes around, and then dumped the bodies into the ditch. Kate photographed them, got the GPS coordinates, and sent that information with a pickup request. Since she took money for their removal, Kate felt the need to stay until they were picked up.
The slayer sat in her Defender while thinking about her choices in life, listening to a Top 40 radio station, and waiting for the County Coroner's retrieval team to arrive. All the DJ could talk about between songs was zombies running amok in St Louis. Kate wondered if he was related to Morgan. The latest word was the mayor held a press conference to ask slayers and head hunters to come and help kill the "infestation" of undead. They were still investigating who was responsible for continuing to open holes in their perimeter defenses.
Kate wondered if it was the Zombie Mafia or a vampire that wanted a horde of undead minions. City officials thought it was an act of domestic terrorism. She had her doubts. There had to be a better reason than that, but it wasn't her problem.
Of course the retrieval team showed up just as her favorite Taylor Swift song started.
"Well now, to what do we owe the honor of the notorious Kate Brokenshire staying to meet us?" Cooper said with a big grin. He was the head of the retrieval team and the driver. Richard Cooper was a tall, medium build black man of about thirty. "You know, I told Stevie we should buy you Christmas and birthday presents since you single-handedly justify our jobs."
"Aww, you're so sweet," she said, patting his arm. "Where is your cohort in crime?"
Cooper arrived with a stranger, a skinny white guy with military cut hair and thick glasses. He looked like he'd be more comfortable behind a desk or in a lab. Cooper's regular partner was Stephanie Parker, a cute little redhead powerhouse of five feet even.
He introduced his assistant as Wyatt.
"Poor Stevie had to go to a funeral today," he said. "A zombie killed her uncle up in St. Louis a couple days ago. Did you hear someone opened holes in the city's perimeter fences and let in hundreds of zombies?"
St. Louis was less than a hundred miles upriver from Tennyson. It was unlikely any of those rotters would make it all the way to her area, but it showed just how dangerous life had become since the Zombie Apocalypse in America's Heartland when people a hundred miles away worried about it.
"I did," Kate said. "It's all the news wants to talk about. Sometimes I think the people who live in the Zombie Lands are crazier than the zombies and vampires."
St. Louis, Missouri sat on the western shore of the Mississippi River. The Great Curse only affected the lands between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains. Every square inch of land between them was the domain of the undead. Everyone who died there instantly became a zombie. Well, except for the lucky few who turned into vampires, which were just sentient zombies in Kate's mind. With fangs.
"I heard that even the Master of the City was calling for zombie slayers to come and help," Wyatt said. He looked fascinated by that fact. Kate noticed he was looking at her with something akin to awe. "I'd go, but my asthma kicks in pretty bad if I exert myself too much."
Kate never heard of anything like that, but she didn't know much of anything about asthma. She nodded politely.
"It's tempting," she said. "But I'm sure there are a hundred slayers and head hunters already in the city. They'll clean it up before I can get there."
Cooper's phone dinged. He frowned at it a second. "We have to hurry, Kate. Some drunken redneck went off and killed his ignorant self trying to jump his ATV over three parked cars."
She received two clean body bags from Cooper, waited for the bodies to be loaded, and left. Daphne Coleman called before she got two blocks.
Kate hesitated. Daphne was a vampire, also commonly called a vamp or a drac.
"Hello, Daphne," she said. Kate tried to sound happy and natural, but wondered why her childhood best friend would call her. The pretty drac had warned her to stay away. "What are you up to?"
"Kate," she said, and hesitated. "I'm in St. Louis and… I need you… I mean… Never mind."
Kate hit the brakes and stared at the phone when Daphne ended the call. What did that mean? Was Daphne in trouble?
Chapter 2
Kate cruised slowly up Main Street. She glanced up at her office and apartment above the Downtown Diner. The office light was on, but no other sign of Morgan. Then she spotted two police cars in front of the sheriff's office.
Parking across the street, she quickly retrieved the black plastic bag out of the back. People stopped and watched her cross the street. Morbid fascination, since they all knew what was in the bag. She found it creepy, but it happened every time she showed up to claim a bounty. Deputy Doge and a State Police officer were speaking in the reception area.
"Hey, Deputy Dawg," she said. He grinned, but the other cop scowled at her. "Is the sheriff in?"
"He's on the phone with the State AG," he said, looking her up and down with interest. "I don't think he wants to be disturbed. Not even by a hot little number like you."
"You're so sweet," she said, winking. "I might keep you around a little longer." She lifted the bag. "He'll want to see me, because I always bring goodies."
"Yeah, good luck with that," he said, and turned back to the other cop.
They always flirted a little since they started dating, but Randy kept it light when others were around. Odd, si
nce everyone in town knew they were dating. Kate still wasn’t sure how serious he was about her. She wasn't sure how serious she was, either.
Kate heard the sheriff on the phone back in his office. The slayer continued toward the back, finding Sheriff Coleman leaning back in his big leather office chair. She held up the bag and two fingers. He nodded and pointed to the back.
The temporary sheriff's office was his younger brother's old insurance agency offices before expanding into new offices down the street. The sheriff had the first and biggest office behind the reception room, with the other rooms being used for storage. There were no jail cells, but the county seat wasn't too far with a very nice jail facility.
"He's running out of room," she muttered, finding the chest freezer in the back room almost full of black-bagged heads. There were a few heads in white kitchen bags and plastic shopping bags, so she wasn't the only one claiming bounties. Kate was just the only one doing it for a living. "How often does he empty this thing?"
Kate had no idea what the sheriff did with all of the heads turned in for bounties. She assumed he had to turn them over to the State Police or some state agency. There had to be some proof he wasn't pocketing all that bounty money.
Returning to his office, Kate took a seat and crossed her legs. She examined her nails while he finished his conversion. He let out an exasperated sigh after he hung up.
"I didn't invite you to sit."
Kate caught his eyes. She still saw some hostility. Sheriff Coleman blamed her a little for his daughter's death and resurrection as a vampire. He was softening, swayed by her youth, beauty, and charm, no doubt.
"You know I love you," she said. That startled him. Kate enjoyed doing that, but then she modified it so he wouldn't be too uncomfortable. "I've known you all my life. You're like a second father or uncle to me."
"Jesus, girl," he cried. He leaned back with an incredulous look. "Stop hitting me with statements like that."
Tears welled up, but he blinked them away and became all gruff. That was his solution for anything emotional or that made him uncomfortable. He'd been that way as long as she'd known him.