“Please. If we don’t do something, we’ll all die,” Amanda said.
“I can’t.”
Brenda spoke a little too loudly, and Amanda placed one finger in front of her mouth while throwing frantic looks at Ham’s hulking back. Already, she regretted her decision to include the other girl in her plans.
A look of panic washed across Brenda’s face, and her lips parted. Amanda braced herself for an outburst, but instead of the shrill scream she was expecting, a loud blast reverberated through the room. The sound of a gunshot.
Ham jerked toward the noise, his expression one of shocked surprise. “What the —?”
With his attention fixed away from his captives, Amanda saw her chance. In an instant, she was on her feet. She flung herself at Ham and landed on his back where she clung like a monkey. He roared with anger and swatted at her with a clubbed fist. A glancing blow on the jaw caused her to see stars, but she dared not let go. She plunged the letter opener into his neck with all her strength, and the metal blade slid deep into the tissue. Blood spurted from the wound, but it wasn’t mortal. She’d missed the arteries.
She reared back and stabbed him again and again, each blow sinking into the thick muscle between the shoulder and ear. Her fingers grew slick with blood, and a fine mist of droplets coated her skin, but Ham showed no signs of going down.
Fear coursed through Amanda’s veins as she felt her strength waning. Her arm was growing tired, and her legs barely kept her in place on Ham’s back. The man was a brute, a hulking behemoth. She felt herself slipping, and cried, “No, no, no!”
With an enraged bellow, Ham backpedaled and slammed her into the nearest wall. The force of the blow caused the air to leave her lungs in a rush, and her teeth clipped shut on her tongue. The taste of copper pennies filled her mouth, and she knew she was done.
As her grip loosened, Amanda glanced over Ham’s shoulder and into the blue eyes of Brenda. Surprised, she cried. “Brenda? Is that you?”
The girl stood in front of Ham with a computer monitor raised above her head. With a shrill cry, she brought the sharp edge down on Ham’s forehead. “Let go of her, you freak!”
The hard plastic gouged into his skin and fractured his skull. He raised one hand to ward off a second blow, and Amanda took her chance. With a loud scream, she jammed the letter opener into the tender spot beneath his ear. It cut through meat and sinew before a spurt of arterial blood wrung a triumphant cry from her lips. “Yes!”
Ham staggered forward a couple of steps before he rammed into the counter. Amanda jumped off his back and danced away on light feet. She grabbed Brenda’s wrist and dragged her out of the way as well. Together, they watched as he collapsed to the ground where he flopped about in a growing pool of blood.
With a sigh of relief, Amanda darted forward and grabbed his knife from slack fingers. The letter opener was discarded in favor of the superior blade. With swift strokes, she cut the guard’s bonds before handing the weapon to Brenda. “Call for help, okay?”
Brenda nodded, her eyes huge. “Okay.”
As she turned to run from the ward, Amanda added, “Oh, and Brenda?”
“Yeah?” the girl asked, pausing for a brief second.
“Thanks for saving my life.”
Brenda managed a tremulous smile. “Thanks for saving mine.”
With that, she fled from the room, and Amanda turned her attention back to the situation at hand. The guard was still unconscious, and she dismissed him for the time being. During the scuffle, more gunshots had sounded from the room down the hall, and she feared it was all over for Alex and the two girls.
Her eyes landed on the guard’s rifle, and she scooped it up from the floor. After checking the load, she switched it to semi-automatic with practiced fingers. She came from a long line of gun-toting ancestors and knew how to handle one. With the gun aimed and ready, she walked toward Alex’s room on silent feet. Nobody threatens my patients.
Chapter 4 - Amy
Amy had barely nodded off before she was dragged back to consciousness by the sound of fierce whispering. She blinked, confused, and lifted her head. After a quick look around, she still had no answers. Who’s talking like that?
She got to her feet and walked toward the exit, but paused before leaving the room. A sixth sense warned her of danger, and she sharpened her ears. It wasn’t long before she was able to make out the individual words of an argument occurring outside the room. She recognized two of the voices: Grissom and Spitz. The third was a stranger to her, but the words sent a wave of adrenaline blasting through her veins.
“What if the girl told the kid where King’s hideout is, and she spills the beans?” Spitz said.
“She wouldn’t. Why tell a kid stuff like that?” Grissom asked.
Spitz snorted. “No wonder King told me to make sure the job got done properly. You’re weak.”
“King? You spoke to King?” Grissom asked.
“Yes, he contacted me a couple of hours ago,” Spitz said. “It looks like he doesn’t trust you much either. As of now, I’m taking command before this turns into a proper shit show.”
“So what then? We kill an eight-year-old child?” Grissom protested.
“I’ll do it if you don’t have the stomach for it,” Spitz hissed. “Jerry and I will finish this, right Jerry?”
“I’m in,” Jerry whispered back.
At those words, Amy stumbled back from the empty doorway. She had only a few seconds to do something, and her brain threatened to shut down beneath an avalanche of fear. But panic was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Not if she wanted to save Alex and Jenny. They were both in serious danger, and it was up to her to help them.
On silent feet, she ran toward Jenny and scooped her up. She rushed toward the bathroom while taking care to disturb the sleeping child as little as possible. When Jenny began to protest, she whispered. “Sh, baby girl. It’s me, Amy. Go back to sleep.”
She placed the child inside the bath, still wrapped in her father’s old jacket and a blanket. It was the only way she could think of to keep Jenny out of harm’s way. She switched the light on and closed the door, leaving it open only a crack. With luck, they’d think she was inside the bathroom and head straight for it.
Next, she shrugged off her jacket, giving her more freedom of movement. She bundled the cloth onto the couch to form the impression Jenny was still lying there before running toward the open door. She barely had time to position herself in the gap between the door and the wall, shotgun in hand, before the three men entered the room. As expected, they were confused by her absence before spotting the bathroom light. This gave her a couple of precious moments to ready herself for the fight ahead. As frightened as she was, terrified really, she knew what she had to do.
Amy peeked around the corner of the door as Jerry, the stranger, headed toward the bathroom. Spitz made a beeline for her brother while Grissom hung back, the closest to her. Each carried a knife, and that caused a smile to twist her lips. Because of the need for secrecy, they’d brought knives to a gunfight. Only, they hadn’t realized it yet.
With her left foot, Amy nudged the door in front of her. As it swung closed, a faint creak emitted from the hinges. Grissom turned toward her, and his eyes widened when she appeared in her hiding spot. Amy fixed him in place with a glare and raised the shotgun to shoulder height. “Take this, you asshole.”
He had time to utter the words, “Oh, shit,” before she blasted him with a load of buckshot. The man had super reflexes, however, and threw himself to the side. The shot missed.
Wasting no time, Amy shifted her aim to Jerry. He’d reached the bathroom door, and had one hand extended outward. With a swift pump of the forearm, she loaded the chamber of the gun and took her second shot. This time, she didn’t miss. Jerry caught the full load in the center of his back, and he fell forward with a loud cry. Blood misted the air and spattered the walls. One down, two to go.
Spitz threw himself at Alex, seeking shelter beside hi
s bed. Amy shucked the empty shell and took a quick shot, aiming low for his legs. She couldn’t risk hitting her brother. Again, she missed, and a growl of frustration rose to her lips. “Damn it.”
The fourth blast grazed Spitz, and blood blossomed on his trouser leg. He reached for the Beretta at his side, but before he could pull it out, three bullets punched into his chest. He fell to the ground, one hand gripping the many tubes that connected to Alex. They pulled free, and IV liquid sprayed onto the floor along with Alex’s blood. The heart monitor went wild, and an alarm sounded throughout the room. Childish screams emitted from the bathroom as Jenny added her voice to the chaos.
Amy tried to focus her attention on the last remaining enemy: Grissom. At the same time, she wondered who took out Spitz. As she took aim at Grissom, she noticed the gun in his hand. It was pointed at Spitz, while his other hand was raised in the air.
“Don’t shoot,” he cried. “I’m on your side.”
Amy stared at him with narrowed eyes, her aim never faltering. “Are you really? Because I heard you lot talking outside.”
He shook his head. “No, I swear it. I could never hurt a child. That’s why I shot him.”
Spitz managed a rough laugh, blood bubbling from his lips. “I always said you were a pussy. You could never get the job done.”
Grissom glared at him before walking over. He kicked the Beretta away from Spitz’s hand where it lay on the floor. “I’m not weak, but I’m not a child killer like you lot.”
“Whatever,” Spitz said before sagging backward.
The next moment, Alex reared upward in his bed with a loud gasp. He gripped one of the IV needles in his hand and stabbed Grissom in the arm. “Traitor.”
Grissom staggered back, one hand pressed to the wound. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m not with them anymore, I swear it.”
Alex coughed. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.”
Amy stared at the spectacle in shock, her eyes wide. “Alex, are you okay?”
Alex managed a weak smile before he fell back onto the bed. “I’m okay, Sis. It’s good to see you again.”
Before Amy could utter another word, the door burst open, and Amanda rushed inside. Her hands were bathed in crimson, and she held a rifle in her arms. When she spotted Grissom, she quickly took aim at his chest.
“Whoa, don’t shoot,” he cried, throwing both hands into the air and dropping to his knees. “I surrender, okay? I surrender.”
Amanda stared at him before looking at Amy who shrugged. “He did kill the other guy. Leave him for now.”
“Are you sure?” Amanda asked. “I really don’t mind killing him.”
“Tie him up. He can give us information,” Alex rasped.
“Good idea,” Amanda replied, rushing forward. She rummaged in a drawer and produced a spare IV line which she used to tie Grissom’s hands before disarming him. “That should do.”
“Thanks,” Amy said, her legs starting to tremble as the rush of battle died away. The alarm still screamed nonstop, echoed by Jenny in the bathroom, but she tried to focus on the essentials. “Are there more of them?”
“I took care of the other one, and I sent Brenda for help,” Amanda said. “We’re okay for now.”
Amy heaved a sigh of relief, but her happiness was short-lived. Suddenly, Alex began to convulse, and his eyes rolled back in his head. The entire bed shook as his muscles seized up, and bloody froth bubbled onto his lips. “Alex!”
She rushed forward, but Amanda stopped her. “I’ve got your brother. Take care of the little girl.” Within seconds, she began reconnecting the various lines and tubes that Spitz had pulled out. “Go!”
Amy nodded and tucked the shotgun back into her waistband. She ran toward the bathroom where a hysterical Jenny crouched on the floor. Tears streamed down the girl’s cheeks, and her body shook like a leaf in the wind.
Amy dropped to the floor next to her and pulled her close. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Everything will be alright, I promise.”
In truth, she didn’t feel okay. Not when her brother’s life was hanging on a thread mere feet away while corpses littered the floor. But for Jenny’s sake, she had to keep it together. For the first time, she understood the responsibility that came with having a life in your care. I get it now, Mom and Dad. Alex. I understand.
Chapter 5 - Saul
The Humvee careened around a corner with Saul behind the wheel. Dylan clung to the dashboard while Rita attempted to contact headquarters on the radio. Behind them, the library continued to burn, its bright orange light forming a halo against the sky.
The convoy followed in their tracks, hard-pressed to keep up, but Saul paid little attention to them. All that mattered was getting back to the fort before Grissom could put his plan into action. Whatever that might be.
“Any luck, Rita?” he asked.
She shook her head, both feet braced against the front seats while she fiddled with the equipment in her lap. “Not yet, Sergeant.”
“Keep trying,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Will do,” she replied.
“What do you think this Grissom is up to?” Dylan asked as they swung around yet another corner.
Saul shrugged. “I’m not sure, but he wanted us off-base and out of the way.”
“The only reason I can think of for that is Tara and Amy,” Dylan mused. “Maybe they escaped and are on their way back to the Fort.”
“Maybe. It would explain a few things. Why he wanted us gone, for one,” Saul said. “That way, he can intercept them before they can talk to any of us.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t want us to know where King’s holed-up,” Dylan agreed.
“Or, King is planning an attack,” Rita said from the back.
“So soon?” Dylan mused.
“Could be. We have no idea how many men he has or what firepower he’s got,” Saul said. “He has already helped himself to the supplies in the reserve center.”
“That’s just great,” Dylan said, throwing her hands in the air.
She yelped when Saul yanked the steering to the side, sliding around a sharp bend before straightening the truck out again.
“I told you to hold on,” Saul said, flashing her a grim look.
“No kidding,” she grumbled, grabbing the dashboard once more. “We’ll be lucky if we make it back alive, at this rate.”
“We’ll make it,” Saul said, glancing at the night sky outside his window. “That’s a promise.”
The sun had set, and the moon was in control of the heavens once more. It hid behind a set of dark clouds, only deigning to show its face once in a while. Cold and haughty. Ancient Zulu legend stated that the moon was hollow and was brought there hundreds of years before by two extra-terrestrial brothers, Wowane and Mpanku. They were known as the water brothers, and they had scaly skin like fish.
It was a story often told him as a child, and he still remembered how amazing it had seemed to his young mind. He’d since learned the truth, of course—the hard facts of science. But, sometimes, he wished the old legends were real for it granted a mystery to life that couldn’t be found beneath a microscope.
Saul’s thoughts winged back to his old home in South Africa. Since the apocalypse, he had no way of knowing how his people fared, and he counted himself lucky that he had no close family left. Being career military, he’d shied away from intimate relationships, and his grandparents and parents were long gone. His only sister too. She’d died in childbirth, taking the baby boy with her into the afterlife.
Yet, he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. He had Tara now. Even though she’d been taken from him, and he swore once more that he’d get her back. Or die trying.
“Delta convoy, come in. This is Sergeant Dean. Over,” the radio crackled behind him, yanking his attention back to the present.
Rita jerked to attention and replied, “This is Delta convoy, over.”
“What is your current position? Over.”
“We’re —”
“Dylan, let Rita do the talking,” Saul admonished, but Dylan tossed her head and refused to hand back the mic.
“A set-up? Are you okay? Over,” Nick asked, his worry evident across the scratchy line.
“We’re fine, but I’m afraid something is up. We were sent on a wild goose chase by a soldier called Grissom. Over.”
“Yes, I know. You’d better get here as soon as possible. I’m at the infirmary. Over,” Nick said.
Dylan frowned. “The infirmary? What’s going on, Nick? Over.”
“I’ll explain when you get here. Over,” Nick replied.
“All right. We’re almost there,” Dylan said. “Over.”
“Hurry. Over,” came the final reply before Nick signed off.
Dylan handed the radio back to Rita, who shot her a nasty look. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me? This is my equipment. My responsibility.”
Dylan had the grace to look contrite, and she ducked her head. “Sorry, Rita.”
Saul nodded. “Tell her, Rita. Dylan needs to learn a little discipline.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I can’t help it. I’m like a kid. I say and do stuff before I think it through,” Dylan said.
“Well, next time, I’ll drag you over my knees and give you a proper spanking. We’ll see if you continue with your juvenile acts then,” Rita admonished.
Dylan raised her hands in the air. “Fair enough, ma’am. I give you full permission to spank me when I’m naughty.”
“Ugh,” Rita cried out, rolling her eyes, but a smile lurked around the edges of her mouth.
Saul suppressed a grin. As exasperating as Dylan could be, it was impossible to stay mad at her for long. Even so, he made a mental note to put her through a couple of drills as soon as he had the opportunity. She needed to learn discipline, and he’d make sure it happened. Come hell or high water; I’ll teach her control. But for now, I need to get us back to camp.
Rise of the Undead (Book 5): Apocalypse Z Page 3