The Zombie Chronicles - Book 6 - Revelation (Apocalypse Infection Unleashed Series)

by Peebles, Chrissy

  “We’ll be there,” Claire said.

  “He was talking to me,” I said.

  “Can you fight, Claire?” Rachel asked.

  “She’s not cut out for this kind of thing,” I said.

  She glared at me. “I can decide for myself,” she said sternly, glaring at me. She turned to Steven. “I’ll fight with everything I have.”

  I looked at her, incredulous. “It’s practically a suicide mission, Claire. They’re gonna march right into a huge mob of zombies. They may as well hang ‘Come and get it’ signs from their necks!”

  “I’m well aware of the risks Steven and Rachel are willing to take, but those people need help. They don’t have much time, especially if they’re barricaded in.”

  “A handful of people can’t fight a herd, Claire. You should know that firsthand.”

  “Someone is meeting us with an armored truck,” Steven chimed in, “and I have flamethrowers too.”

  That was definitely a plus, and I thought it might temporarily tilt the tables in his favor. As I thought about the risk involved, I realized it really didn’t matter. I was numb inside, and I had to distract myself from the pain. Claire was right: Those people needed our help. It wasn’t that I had a death wish, because I most certainly didn’t, but I had to help any way I could. I was no stranger to being surrounded by evil, and I’d felt that same terror more than once. I knew what they were feeling inside, and I couldn’t just desert them.

  I was also confident that Steven’s plan might just work, but if it didn’t, I could always back out. I was willing to help, but I didn’t want to die as a martyr. Nick’s rule of thumb flashed through my mind: “Don’t go looking for trouble.” Yet there I was, ready to fight. Part of it was a bit of rebellion, because once again, Nick had left his little brother behind to go out and do the important work. I was also struck with grief and wanted revenge, and I had inherited my mother’s heart. The combination of those emotions made me want to volunteer, but truthfully, I was still on the fence.

  Steven looked at me. “It’s one of my dad’s friends, Charlie.”

  “Charlie?” Claire said.

  “He’s a scientist from the lab.”

  “Yes, I know him well.”

  “I know the scientists around here aren’t exactly opening up to you, literally and otherwise, but if we save Charlie, I’m sure he’ll have some answers about Jackie’s death.”

  “I’m in,” Claire said, without a second thought.

  That was all I needed to convince me. “I’m in too.”

  “So…what’s the plan?” Claire asked.

  “We start the party with a little barbecue,” Steven said. “That’ll get rid of most of the ones surrounding the front of the house. Bart will park the armored truck right outside the door, and our team of snipers will shoot any stragglers as we drive around so survivors can load up in the truck. Then, if everything goes as planned, we’ll ride off into the sunset.”

  “It could work,” I said, “but it’s very risky.”

  “What good zombie-bashing plan isn’t?” he retorted.

  “You’ve got a point there,” I said.

  “What’s the escape plan?” Claire chimed in.

  Rachel blinked and shook her head. “Well, that’s the best part. The house sits by the perimeter that the zombies won’t pass. All we have to do is get to the next house where the invisible force field is.”

  “Like I said, the after-effects of the explosion has left most of the town safe,” Steven said.

  “The zombies won’t cross it, but there’s not enough radioactivity to hurt us. The scientists ran all kinds of tests,” Rachel said.

  Claire blinked. “So…we have a safety net. We just have to get to the perimeter, and we’re home free.”

  “As long as we don’t get killed in the process,” I said.

  Rachel pulled two strange-looking, chainmail-like suits from a bag. “Wear these. They’re zombie-proof.”

  “Uh…shark suits?” I asked. “Zombies can’t swim, can they?”

  “No, silly. The suits are constructed from tiny titanium rings over a wetsuit. We know the zombies can’t bite through them. They’ve saved a lot of lives.”

  “Get dressed. I’ll see you two downstairs.” Gripping Rachel’s hand, Steven turned and left.

  Claire reached for her gun holster, slipped the pistol securely into it, then shot me a look. “I want a rifle too.”

  “You won’t need one. You’re not coming,” I said.

  “Whoa. You’re not gonna treat me the way Nick treats you. I won’t stand for it.”

  “But you don’t even like fighting. Do you have any idea how dangerous this mission is?”

  She inched closer. “I want answers,” she said. “I have to know what happened. I want to know why they killed Jackie in such a vicious way.”

  “You already know why,” I said.

  “I wanna know who pulled the trigger,” she said, her eyes flashing rage. “If Charlie dies, I’ll never get closure.”

  “Claire, there are other scientists we can ask. I’m sure we can get them to talk.”

  “But I know Charlie,” she argued. “He used to come in and check on me, Jackie, and Val. I made friends with him, and I know he won’t lie to me. I can’t say the same for the others.”

  “I think—”

  Ignoring me, she cut in, “If Val were here, she wouldn’t hesitate for a second. She and Charlie used to chat all the time. He didn’t have to hang around that jail cell keeping us company, but he did, and he filled us in on everything that was going on. He brought us snacks and books to read. He encouraged us and never gave up on us, and most of all, he treated us like people, not zombies or infected or captives. He’s the sweetest man, and I can’t let anything happen to him if I have a chance to stop it.”

  “Yeah, Charlie’s a nice guy,” I said, “and I want to help him, but you shouldn’t—”

  “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. Now, my pistol makes it hard to shoot quickly and accurately, but it’s great in a pinch. A rifle is easier to shoot and gets the job done, so hook me up with one.”

  I could see the determined look in her fiery blue eyes, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to change her mind. The scientist was an added bonus, but I knew she’d already decided to go. For all I knew, Claire had a death wish of her own, maybe some sick desire to meet her cousin in the afterlife. I wasn’t sure what the heck was going through her mind, but she wasn’t herself, and she was set on vengeance.

  Walking over to the corner of the room, I grabbed a rifle and placed it in her hands. Without even blinking, she grabbed it, then disappeared into the bedroom. I put on my holster and loaded my gun. I knew Nick, Lucas, and Val would flip if they knew what we were about to do, but I didn’t care. If they don’t like it, they shoulda left someone behind to babysit me, I silently fumed.

  A few minutes later, Claire came out dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, a denim jacket, and steel-toed boots. She was wearing her shark suit under her clothing, and her hair was tied back in a tight ponytail. She swung the rifle over her shoulder.

  “So the previous lady of the house was your size, huh?” I asked.

  “The boots are a little big, but I just doubled up on socks.”

  “Are you sure you wanna do this?” I asked. “I can go and bring the scientist back.”

  She met my gaze straight on. “There’s not a doubt in my mind. Let’s go.”

  I put the shark suit on under my clothes. It wasn’t very comfortable at all, but if it would keep zombies from gnawing on me like I was made of beef jerky, it was worth a little discomfort.

  Clomping along in the metal gear, we made our way down the corridor and clambered down the rope ladders to get back to the first floor. I swung open the lobby door and glanced around for Steven.

  A beep echoed as an open-top four-by-four Land Rover pulled up right next to us.

  Steven smiled. “I got my twelve-gauge and my twenty-two, along
with plenty of twelve-gauge slugs.”

  “Yeah, we got this,” Rachel said, holding up an automatic rifle.

  “Let’s get ready to rumble!” one of the other guys, a real military type, shouted.

  Steven quickly introduced us to the other zombie assassins, and we hopped in: Claire and I, followed by Steven and Rachel, and a few other twenty-something guys. All loaded up, the truck took off down the hill.

  Rachel handed me a satchel with a long strap.

  I arched a brow. “Uh…it doesn’t really match my outfit.”

  She smiled. “Maybe not, but it’s filled with tons and tons of ammo. Besides, it kinda brings out your eyes.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said, then immediately started stuffing my cargo pants with the ammunition.

  “Here’s one for you, Claire,” she said.

  My eyes widened at the sight of a portable backpack flamethrower, complete with two cylinders.

  The Land Rover slowed down as we approached the armored car that was parked on the side of the road.

  A man who I assumed to be Bart ran up to us. “Steven, do you think this crazy plan is really gonna work?” he asked, pulling on his mustache. “I just checked the place out, and there are hundreds of those groaning ghouls swarming the house.”

  “We’re Charlie’s last chance,” Steven retorted, “his and all the others’. It has to work.”

  I stepped out while the others acted as lookouts. I walked up to Bart and met his gaze. “We’ve got nothing’ but our courage and our weapons, but that’s enough to kick some serious zombie butt.”

  He smiled. “I agree. Let’s move out!” Bart said, hopping back into the driver seat of the armored vehicle.

  As we drove around the bend, in the distance, I could see hundreds of zombies storming the property. I stared at the countless multitudes, swaying and staggering with every step they took, like some sort of drunken army.

  “Let’s get this barbecue started!” I said as we neared them.

  “Cue the flamethrower!” Claire said.

  The truck stopped at a huge, towering tree.

  Rachel pointed. “We’ll be safe up to there. Just think of it as an imaginary line. Get past it, and you’re home free.”

  I slammed the door shut and surveyed the scene before me. “When you toast ‘em, the fire should keep the others back.”

  “I love it when a plan comes together,” Steven said, smiling as he put the pack on his back and held the flamethrower.

  One of his buddies strapped on a flamethrower too.

  “Watch where you’re aiming that thing,” Bart said. “We don’t wanna fry the people we’re trying to rescue…or me!”

  “I’ll be careful not to burn down the house,” Steven said. “I’ll aim to the left. Henry, you aim to the right. Dean, you cover me, and Ralph will cover Henry. Meanwhile, Bart will burst through the remaining zombies to get to the house.”

  I focused on the house and all the zombies surrounding it. It was dangerous to rush into the herd, but our plan was as solid as it was going to get. Our goal was to get in and get out.

  A few straggler zombies headed toward us, and I trained my gun on one of the undead freaks.

  Rachel grabbed my arm. “No! Don’t shoot! Just watch the magic at work.”

  I was nervous to trust her, but I waited till the first one was very close, keeping my gun pointed and my finger on the trigger. The zombie spun in a slow circle, as if it was confused, and its hideous friend did the same. It wouldn’t cross the invisible line, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Have the scientists figured out why they won’t cross?” I asked. “What element from the explosion is causing this?”

  “They aren’t sure yet,” Steven said, “but be warned. It’s not foolproof. Some still get through. I let my guard down once and almost got half my face bitten off.”

  “Well, it’s incredible anyway,” Claire said.

  I climbed back into the Land Rover and held my breath, then let it out slowly as I glanced at Claire. “You ready?”

  She nodded.

  I gripped her hand. “We can do this.”

  One of the men looked at Claire and me. “Each of you take one of my semiautomatics and some extra magazines. You’re gonna need ‘em.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Can your girlfriend shoot?” he asked.

  “First, I’m not his girlfriend,” Claire said. “I’m seeing his brother, not him. Second, I can shoot…and I can speak for myself, thank you.”

  “Sorry. My mistake.”

  “Nick and Lucas taught me how to use a whole arsenal of weapons, particularly a semiautomatic owned by one of your scientists.”

  “You remember what they taught you?” the man asked.

  “It’s like riding a bicycle,” she said confidently, loading the weapon like a pro. “Now, let’s go have ourselves a little barbecue, boys,” she said.

  Chapter 10

  The truck took off with a jerk as we put our plan in motion. We started shooting from all different directions, until the truck stopped in the middle of the front yard. Steven and his buddy climbed out and split up, each one taking a different direction. I covered Steven and shot anything that got remotely close to him.

  Steven aimed and fired, swishing his weapon side to side, letting out an impressive blast of flames. The fiery stream decimated anything and everything in its path in a fifty-foot radius around him. Zombies moaned as their decaying flesh crisped up like bacon.

  A naked, slimy monster lurched toward Steven from behind, but I let out a shot and hit it straight in the back of the head, sending it crashing to the ground just inches from him.

  “Great shot!” one of the guys yelled.

  A hellish chorus of moans, grunts, sizzles, and gunshots echoed in the air. Rachel’s semiautomatic rifle was eardrum-poppingly loud as she shot it next to me. Claire was absolutely focused on defeating the enemy, letting out shot after shot and keeping the undead at bay.

  In the armored car, Bart careened down the driveway, easily running over anything in his path. He pulled up to the door and honked, hoping to lure the survivors out of their hiding place. When they just looked at him dumbly and stumbled around in the living room, we realized they were zombies; the house had been breached.

  A shiver shot down my spine. Why can’t anything go according to plan? “Zombies broke in!” I warned my comrades.

  “I’m going in,” Rachel said, reloading her gun. “We’ll just kill ‘em all.”

  I was sure we could take them all on with our weapons, so I wasn’t worried about that. I was far more worried about the herd breaking through the fire as it died down. When Steven moved to join Rachel, I grabbed his arm. “We need the flamethrowers to stay out here and keep the zombies down.”

  “But what about Rachel?” he said.

  Just over his left shoulder, I shot at a fiery zombie who was getting too close for comfort. The walking blaze collapsed, and I looked back at Steve. “Listen, I’ve got her back. The two other guys can cover you two.”

  He nodded. “I trust you, Dean. Just keep her safe!” Sucking in a deep breath, he gripped the flamethrower tightly, then went back to his position.

  We all pointed our guns as Rachel slowly opened the door. Loud shrieks pierced the air, and zombies immediately lurched for us. Rachel let out an exploding round of bullets.

  A zombie with wrinkled black skin and a missing jaw came at me from the left. I stepped a foot back and fired. The semiautomatic vibrated in my hands as the deep, reverberating sounds rang in my head. The zombie and its rotting friends behind it dropped, riddled with bullets.

  Claire motioned us to the staircase. As Rachel fired up the stairs, Claire fired across the entire living room. Bullets ripped through the air, ripping through the zombies, portraits, and vases, sending chunks of rotting flesh and plaster and glass everywhere.

  I headed up the stairs and looked left, then right. Clear. My heart was beating so hard that I thought I might faint, bu
t I somehow found the courage to pull open the first door. Inside were zombies galore, even more than I had expected, and I fired off another round into them.

  A scream echoed in the bathroom. I bolted there and saw Claire fighting a zombie. She kicked it in the gut, and it went flying through the glass shower door, shattering it into a million tiny pieces. She wrapped her hands in a towel and grabbed a large shard of glass; without hesitation, she plunged her makeshift dagger into the zombie’s left eye, bursting it like a rotten tomato.

  “Looks like you got this covered,” I said.

  She spun around, startled. “How do I reload this thing?” she frantically asked. “I ran out, and I need another clip.”

  “It’s called a magazine.” I quickly showed her. “Got it?”

  “Yep.” Expertly and bravely pointing her gun, she scoped out the hallway. “All clear,” she said.

  “Up here!” Rachel shouted. “In the attic.”

  Claire ran down the hall and bolted up a rickety wooden stairway, and I anxiously followed. In the attic, rather than zombies, we found a terrified group of fifteen people.

  “We’ve got an armored truck ready to go,” I said. “Let’s move it!”

  Claire ushered the frightened people downstairs. I went down first to make sure there was nothing waiting for us at the bottom, but one member of the welcoming committee greeted me with a snarling growl. I reached for my pistol in my holster and shot the thing right between its two white eyes. Its head jerked back as it crumbled to the floor. Then I aimed for the one coming past the couch. I squeezed the trigger, and the well-placed shot had the zombie slumping over the couch, its neck spewing out black tar like a geyser.

  “Look out!” a woman screamed. “There’re more of them! Oh my gosh. They’re everywhere!”

  Claire aimed and shot an entire round at the horde as Rachel and I motioned the survivors outside to the armored truck. The smell of smoke wafted through the air, and embers were still sizzling in every direction. Stragglers were everywhere, but Rachel and I kept right on firing, squeezing out one shot after another. Gunfire echoed all around me.