Jane Zombie Chronicles Box Set Books 4-6: Crisis Cell, Ominous Ordeal, Running Rampant (Jane Zombie Box Set Book 2)

by Gayle Katz

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Third rule. Always think about your target and consider what’s behind it before you squeeze the trigger.”

  “OK.”

  “Wanna try getting a feel for it?”

  “Ummm. Sure.”

  “Let me help,” he says as he gets behind me. “Wrap your hand around the butt of the gun, but don’t touch the trigger.” Damar’s front is pressed up against my back. He envelops my body with his and covers my hands with his. With his arms around my body, he lifts up my arms and points the gun at a wall. “Make sure your arms are strong and sturdy, not bendy. When you fire, the gun is going to kick back. You should anticipate that, so your arms need to be solid. Now look down the length of the gun. Do you see the crosshairs? That’s the sight. That’s how you aim so you shoot what you want to shoot and nothing else.”

  “I see,” I say, feeling the heat of Damar’s body against mine.

  “How does it feel? Think you can handle it?” His breath tickles my ear.

  “Um. Sure. I think so.” I look back at him and our faces are only a couple inches apart.

  “Good,” he smiles as he lets go of me. “And here’s how you open and close the cylinder to reload if you need more bullets.”

  “I don’t think I have any more bullets. There weren’t any other rounds in the bag. Just what’s already loaded in there.”

  Damar pops open the cylinder. “You’re right. It’s loaded and ready to go. The question is, are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Good. Let me get Samir and then we’ll get started.”

  I return the revolver to my bag, hoping that I never have to use it.

  Chapter 15

  ________________________________________

  Dammit, Jack. You better be alive after all of this crap you’re putting me through. I still don’t understand your need to save the world by reporting on these horrific zombie massacres. I guess being an anchor and staying in one place is boring compared to traveling the global getting down and dirty with the news. Wasn’t it enough for you to save us? I guess it wasn’t and that makes me sad.

  I still have to do this, but I hope that Damar and his brother know when to bail. I don’t want them getting hurt because of me.

  Damar returns with Samir. I haven’t seen him since we got here. He nods at me and I smile back at him. In the meantime, Damar peeks through a few slits in a couple of the windows of the safe house. He opens the front door, looks around, and signals that the zombies are gone for now. He walks to the side of the building and Samir and I follow.

  Damar starts removing a tarp from something. Once it’s partially uncovered, I can tell it’s a vehicle. It’s a Jeep actually, an oversized, big, badass, beige brown Jeep with monster truck–like tires and a front bumper that puts a cop car’s nudge bar to shame. No doors and no roof, though. It looks as though it’s been stripped naked. “Get in,” he says.

  I stop in my tracks. “We’ll be defenseless in this thing.”

  “Maybe, but we can make a quick getaway and this baby is light on its feet,” he says, patting the Jeep as if it’s his puppy.

  Samir hops into the backseat. Full of doubt, I use the grab handle to get into the passenger side of this oversized deathtrap. Once in, I settle into the front seat and pull the map out of my bag. Damar looks at it and then starts up the engine. As he presses on the accelerator, we begin to move and kick up some serious dirt behind us. When the dirty little side street ends, we turn onto the main drag. As we’re driving, we see bloody body parts strewn all over the road. Some we avoid. Others we hit with a thump, thump, thump.

  With every body part that strikes the car, I ruminate about the people those body parts belonged to. Before they were dismembered, rotting carcasses on the road. Before they turned into zombies. Before they were infected. Before they were running for their lives.

  And who were they? Were they daughters? Sons? Wives? Husbands? So depressing. I guess these zombie outbreaks are just the new normal nowadays, especially in this part of the world. Thinking about how bad this spinning ball of blue has become ever since the first outbreaks makes me incredibly sad. I can’t handle it right now. I put my head in my hands.

  Who knew when I was applying to colleges all those years ago that I’d be thrust into so many zombie disasters. It seems I have no control over my own life. It’s just a series of tests and hoops I have to jump through to survive.

  I’m staring out of the window, or where a window should be, trying to calm my soul and refocus on the one task at hand. Getting to where I need to go. That’s all I can handle right now.

  “Are you OK?” Damar asks, touching my shoulder. He stops the car.

  “Yeah. I guess s—” A whiff of something vile distracts me.

  “What?” Damar asks.

  “Smell. Don’t you smell that?”

  Suddenly the putrid stink of decay enters my nostrils at full force. I cough. I gasp for air the smell is so strong. Standing up and looking around our immediate area, I see them crawling up on the back of the Jeep. Their red, beady eyes, bloodstained faces, and black rotting teeth staring at me. Their horrible, piercing screams make me cringe. I hold my ears. “We have company! Hit the gas! Hit the gas!”

  “Sit down!” Damar stomps on the accelerator. The Jeep jumps forward. Samir takes a tumble from the backseat of the Jeep onto the ground. I try to hold on to the Jeep’s frame, but the car jerks forward so fast I fall onto the backseat. I see the zombies drop off the back of the vehicle. “Are they gone? Do you see Samir?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. I’m looking,” I reply. “I can’t see. There’s so much dust and dirt. Slow down.” I get up after falling into the backseat to get a better look at the rear of the Jeep. I see a couple of them in the dust cloud behind us, but there’s one still clutching onto the back bumper. Its hands are still holding on to the back of the Jeep, nails digging into the rubber. When I look up, I see Samir running toward us.

  I try to crush the zombie’s fingers by stomping on them, but no luck there. I quickly open my bag and fish out the knife the Rat gave me. Then, with as much force as I can muster, bring the knife down on the zombie’s fingers. The blade chops through the rotting flesh and bone with ease. Immediately, I hack off the zombie’s other hand and it is detached from the Jeep and back with his friends. However, parts of its hands and fingers are still grasping onto the back of the Jeep. Gross. I flick them off with my knife.

  “We’re good now,” I report. “Stop for a minute so Samir can get back in.”

  Damar eases off the gas for a moment and pumps the brakes until Samir hops in. “You OK?” he asks his brother.

  “Yeah. I’m good. Just a few bumps and bruises. Nothing too bad.”

  “Good. Hold on,” Damar commands, as he throws the Jeep in reverse and backs over the zombies still heading for us. I can feel the Jeep bounce as we run over their broken bodies. Next, he puts the Jeep in drive, hits the gas so we run them down a second time, and keeps going. “You gotta be sure, right?”

  “Damn right! Those damn zombies are as tenacious as hell. Good riddance!” Samir chimes in as he looks back to make sure they’re not moving.

  “Thanks,” Damar says.

  “You’re welcome,” I reply. “We gotta look out for each other or else this won’t work.”

  Chapter 16

  ________________________________________

  “How are you holding up?” he asks.

  “I’m good. Yeah. No. I don’t know. All of this zombie crap is taking a toll on me. Sometimes I just need a break, ya know?”

  “Well, now’s not the time for that break,” Damar says. “My eyes are still working, and I see there’s another bunch of zombies stumbling around.” He points ahead. “I guess they haven’t seen or smelled us yet.”

  “That’s good. I think.”

  “We’re also getting close to where you want to go.” He then points to a building in the distance, really it�
��s a castle, probably from long ago when wars were waged here. There are three large watchtowers along with more than a handful of smaller ones, all with guards stationed at critical points, connected by barrier walls. The whole structure is made of rock, might be limestone, but I can’t be sure. I can see there were a few different entrances, now boarded up, allowing for only one chokepoint where people may enter. “How are you planning to get into that fortress of a building? Your little gun and knife won’t stand a chance against their firepower.”

  “You’re probably right, but I’m hoping I won’t need weapons.”

  “No weapons?”

  “Yeah, I’m assuming they’re mostly men in there, right? And men like women. Maybe I can use that.”

  “Use that? Use what?”

  “You know, my feminine wiles. Be a bit submissive. Show him the respect he deserves as a man and I’m the dainty woman who needs his help and guidance,” I say, showing a pouty smile.

  Damar’s mouth drops open. “I-I don’t like the sound of that,” he says. “Maybe we should find another way.”

  “No. We don’t have time. Women have done it for centuries. It’s got to work.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  “I guess I’m screwed then. But I’m betting my life it’ll work.”

  “Uhhh. That’s a big gamble. Are you sure about this? Are you really sure?”

  “Yes. He’s my husband. I-I have to try. I don’t have any options left.”

  “Are you out of your mind? Killing yourself won’t help anybody.”

  “I don’t know what else to do.”

  “And what about the zombies?”

  “What about them?”

  “What if they get you first?”

  “If they bite me, chances are I’m immune.”

  “Chances are? Your plan is sounding worse and worse.”

  “The situation is an unknown. How am I supposed to plan for the unknown? Sometimes you just gotta play it by ear,” I say.

  “Play it by ear?” he replies.

  “Yeah. Stay light on your feet. Be able to make changes on the fly.”

  “You’re talking in clichés. You’re the native English-speaker here, right? English is my second language. Say again?”

  “Right. Ummm. My plan has to be flexible because no matter what we plan, it’s gonna change.”

  ”Fine. What if they kill you instead? And eat you for lunch?”

  “I don’t know. Listen. I don’t have all the answers right now. Are you going to help or not?”

  Damar sits quietly, staring forward, contemplating his options I guess. I don’t know what’s going on in his brain. After a few minutes of silence, he turns and faces me. “OK. What do you want me to do?”

  I smile to signal my thanks. “Speed up. Run into the crowd of zombies. Let them follow us for a little bit, and then push me out of the Jeep.”

  “Push you out of the Jeep? While it’s moving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Won’t you get hurt?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re talking crazy.”

  “This whole situation is crazy, but then I can make up any story I want. If the men patrolling the barrier walls and watchtowers see it, maybe they’ll take pity on me and help me inside. I’m a pretty girl. That should help.”

  “That’s the first thing you said that I can agree with, you are beautiful. That’s why I hate to see you put your life on the line.”

  “Do you have another way to get inside? I don’t think I can scale the walls. And despite this Jeep being hardcore, I don’t think we can crash into the building. Besides, even if we could, we’d need time to locate the goods I’m supposed to bring back. It won’t work. We’d be overwhelmed.”

  “She’s right,” Samir chimes in. “You’ve got to let her go.”

  “Shhh,” Damar shuts Samir down.

  I then open my bag and take out the knife. I cut my shirt with the jagged edge and give it a tug or two. I do the same with my pants.

  “What are you doing now?” Damar asks.

  “I’m trying to up the pity factor. I need to get inside.”

  “You’re beautiful all right, and batcrap crazy, too.”

  “Thank you, Damar. I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say.

  Damar shakes his head. I guess it wasn’t meant as one.

  “Here. Keep my stuff,” I say as I hand Samir my bag. “If I don’t make it out, it couldn’t hurt to have some cash and a couple extra weapons.”

  I take out the picture of the object I need to retrieve for the Rat. I do my best to memorize it. It’s cylindrical and has the name Scrycor on it. That’s the same odd-sounding name as the TV commercial I saw while at the sleazy bar. My brain is churning trying to make connections. The Rat wants to steal something that belongs to Scrycor? I’m not familiar with Scrycor, and I know zero about the Rat and his dealings. Basically, I’m in the dark.

  “Jane! Did you hear me?” Samir asks.

  “What? Sorry.”

  “I said, shouldn’t you keep all your supplies with you? You might need them.”

  “I might, but if I manage to get inside, you know they’ll take anything and everything I have. It’s better and safer if you keep them.”

  “OK. Want us to stay? You’re going to need a ride back if you make it out of there.”

  “No. You don’t need to do that. I don’t know how long I’m going to be and I don’t want to put you two in anymore danger than I already have.”

  “So you want me…us to leave you here?” Damar asks.

  “Yes. You’ve done so much to help me already,” I reply. “Consider this a favor I’m doing for you.”

  “Whatever you want, crazy lady.”

  “Now that we’ve got that settled, hit the gas. We’ve gotta make this look good, OK?”

  “Wait. That’s it?”

  “What else is there?”

  “Let’s say you make it out of there alive, do you really think you’re gonna just hand this thing over and they’re going to let you live happily ever after with your husband?”

  “I don’t know about that, but I hope they’ll at least hold up their end of the bargain. I don’t have a choice.”

  He stops the Jeep suddenly.

  “That’s not true,” Damar insists. “You always have a choice.”

  “No. If I want to save Jack, I don’t have a choice,” I say. “This is what they want me to do and I have to do it.”

  “Fine. What makes you think these people are going to do anything they say? They might just kill you and take it.”

  “A friend of mine back home said this guy would help me. I believe him.”

  “How good a friend is this person if he’s not here with you now?”

  “I can’t think about that right now. I have to focus on Jack.”

  “Don’t be blind. Jack left you to go halfway around the world to cover a story. Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Yeah. But…”

  “OK, then. He made his choice and it wasn’t you. It’s getting the story. He’s not putting you first. I am.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you’re blinded by your guilty conscience to save him. And now’s the time for you to make a choice.”

  “I don’t understand. What choice do I have?”

  “Stay with me.”

  “Damar.”

  “Just hear me out. I’ll take care of you and make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again. You saw the safe house. It won’t be an easy life, but we can live there together. My first priority will be you. Always and forever.” He takes my hand and kisses it.

  “You can’t promise that,” I reply. “Bad things happen all the time. What we did last night was wonderful. You’ve been so supportive and sweet, but I can’t stay here. I have to go home and get back to my life. That means getting this item, going back to the club, and finding Jack.”

  “Just give it some thought. If you think
about who’s really there for you, it’s me. Not your contact in the States. Not Jack. It’s me. I love you, Jane.”

  I cup his hand in mine and look into his eyes. “We’ve just been through a few traumatic events. Ones that I put you through and I’m not about to do it again. You saved me and I’m grateful. It’s only natural for you to be protective. You’re a good guy, Damar, and that’s what makes you an amazing man, but we just met. There’s no way you can love me. You’re simply infatuated with a damsel in distress.”

  He sighs.

  “If this was another time and another place and I wasn’t married, maybe it would work between us,” I continue.

  “So you do have feelings for me?”

  “Of course. I care about you, but I have to go. Any woman would be lucky to have a courageous and handsome man like you, but right now I have to find my husband.”

  Damar turns away from me. He’s staring forward. He doesn’t say anything.

  “What are you doing?” Samir asks, putting his hand on Damar’s shoulder. “She’s another man’s woman. “

  “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” I say. “Please. I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry. Are you going to be OK?”

  “Yes. I’ll adjust,” he says curtly as he starts up the Jeep again.

  “I’m so sorry, Damar.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I reach out to him, but he pulls away.

  I can’t think about Damar right now. I need to focus on my next move. As we speed up, I close my eyes for a moment, inhale deeply, focus on my next steps, and exhale. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. If I repeat it enough times maybe I’ll be able to make it happen.

  I open my eyes and Damar already has the Jeep moving fast. I’m tempted to look at the speedometer, but I refrain. I might get spooked. We run head first into the horde of zombies. He plows through them like a bowling ball thundering through a group of pins. Body parts go flying, but one zombie is caught on the Jeep’s enormous front bumper. It smacks the car with a loud thud.

  “Now!” Damar yells.

  I look at him one last time, he plays the part and leans over to the passenger side of the car, and then I throw myself out of the Jeep. I fall out of the car and roll out of the way of the big back tires. Those things are huge and would crush me in an instant.