Rise of the Undead (Book 5): Apocalypse Z

by Higgins, Baileigh

  “That’s it?” he said. “It doesn’t seem so bad.”

  “It’s not, but be careful. Don’t let her scratch you,” Tara cautioned, moving toward a small table lined with scalpels, specimen containers, scissors, tweezers, and syringes. She picked up a syringe and removed the packaging before fitting it with a thick needle.

  “What happens if she scratches me?” James asked. “Will I turn?”

  “No, but you could get a nasty infection,” Tara said. “She’ll try to bite you through the window too. Don’t let your guard down. You need to watch her every second. Got it?”

  James nodded. “Got it.”

  Tara stepped up to the window and waved. “Hi, Betsie. How are you this fine morning?”

  Betsie snarled at Tara before swiping at her through the window. James grabbed for her but missed.

  “Damn it!” he swore.

  “Let’s try again,” Tara said, waving at Betsie through the opening. “Here, Betsie, Betsie, Betsie!”

  Betsie threw herself at Tara and reached for her with both hands. James struck like a snake and snagged her right arm just above the wrist. A weird little dance ensued as Betsie tried to grab him with her other hand. James sidestepped, taking the arm with him each time. After a minute or two, she gave up. Instead, she chewed at the glass with broken teeth, her free hand slamming against the barrier.

  James had her other arm in a firm grip and said, “I’ve got her. Take what you need.”

  Tara nodded and proceeded to draw blood from one of Betsie’s darkened veins. It was a struggle as the blood was thick and clotted, and the zombie wouldn’t stop moving. Finally, Tara shook her head. “Hold on. I’m going to try something else.”

  James flashed her a look. “Fine, but hurry. She’s not easy to hold.”

  “I know, but keep an eye on her. Don’t let her get you,” Tara said, secretly satisfied that everything was going according to plan.

  With James’ entire focus on Betsie, it was time to make her move. With her key card held ready in the left hand, she grabbed a scalpel with her right. With one smooth move, she swiped at James’ face with the blade. A deep cut split open the skin, stretching from his eye down to his chin.

  James screamed and grabbed at his face, shock, and horror contorting his face. That allowed her a split second to put into action the next phase of her plan. Dropping the scalpel, she snatched the key card to the lab from his shirt pocket. At the same time, she swiped her card through the lock holding Betsie’s cage shut, and punched in the override code.

  James yelled with fright and grabbed for his gun, but it was too late. The door swooshed open, and a red light flickered above their heads. Drawn by the smell of fresh blood, Betsie tackled James to the ground with an earsplitting shriek.

  Tara quickly stepped back through the open door behind her and reached up to close it, shutting James and Betsie off from the lab. He’d die in there unless he managed to kill the zombie girl trying to eat his face. Either way, he’d be trapped inside and no longer a problem. At least, that was the plan.

  Too bad nothing ever worked out the way it was supposed to. At the last moment, James launched himself off the floor and threw himself at Tara. “You bitch!”

  He was a split-second too late, and the door closed on his frame, trapping him half-in and half-out of the laboratory. His ribs and sternum crackled as the automatic door attempted to close. Its fail-safe had been deactivated because of the dangerous specimens kept captive behind its steely length. Without mercy, the metal cut into his upper body breaking bone and crushing the breath from his lungs. Trapped in its cold embrace, James gasped for breath.

  Behind him, Betsie regained her feet. She stood swaying for a second, her teeth bared as her predatory gaze locked onto his unprotected back. With a single leap, the zombie girl latched onto James like a blood-sucking leech. Her teeth tore at his flesh, ripping through the tender skin, meat, and sinew that presented a feast for her insatiable appetite.

  Her hands gripped his head for purchase, and her long fingernails gouged into his cheeks. One nail hooked into the cut caused by the scalpel and tore open the side of his face as if she were peeling an orange. A loud snap sounded when another of his ribs caved beneath the pressure of the door. It must have pierced a lung because bloody sputum bubbled up his throat and down his front.

  “Oh, my G—” Tara choked off the sentence, her knuckles pressed to her lips. Blood spurted into the air, and James screamed with raw agony as the pain overwhelmed his nervous system.

  “Help me! Help me, please!” he pleaded with garbled cries, one shuddering hand reaching for Tara.

  She shook her head and stepped back as blood pooled onto the pristine white floor, reaching for her with creeping tendrils.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, tearing her eyes away from the awful spectacle. “I’m sorry, but I had no choice.”

  “No, don’t leave me,” James screamed as crimson foam bubbled from his lips. “Help me!”

  “It’s too late,” Tara whispered as guilt burned through her veins. I did this. I did this to an innocent man. “I’m sorry.”

  His dark eyes fixed onto hers, filled with fear and loneliness. “Then kill me. Kill me, please!”

  “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” Swallowing a horrified cry, Tara whirled about and headed for the exit. She reached the door and unlocked it with the key card she’d stolen from the hapless James.

  “No, don’t leave me. Come back,” James screamed, his voice hoarse and the words slurred. “Come back!”

  Shutting out his desperate pleas, she ran down the passage, aiming for the fire exit. She’d spotted it on her last failed attempt to escape and hoped it wouldn’t be guarded. From there, she’d look for a vehicle and make her escape. I’ll smash through the gates if I have to.

  James’ screams followed her every step of the way, ringing in her ears. It threatened to sap the strength from her bones, and for a brief moment, Tara had the urge to give up. But she couldn’t. Not when she’d gone so far already.

  She reached the fire exit and tore at the handle with frantic hands. Further down the passage, a loud yell drew her attention, and she looked up into Bannock’s pale face. Panic spurted through her veins, but she refused to give up even when logic told her it was over. I have to get away. I have to!

  Ignoring him, she yanked open the door and sprinted down the waiting steps. The bottom floor called out to her, and she prayed she’d reach it before Bannock raised the alarm. Rational thought gave way to guilt, and she pushed onward even though she knew her actions were doomed to failure. To give up meant she’d killed a man for nothing. I didn’t just kill him. I tortured him.

  With her footsteps echoing around her, Tara burst onto the landing and headed for the exit. Her brain was on auto-pilot, and she moved without thinking. I’m almost there. Almost.

  When a solid set of hands latched onto her, fear exploded throughout her body. Her brain shut down, giving in to madness. “No, no, no, no!”

  “Hold still, woman,” a deep voice sounded in her ears.

  Tara shook her head, unable to process his words. She refused to capitulate and struggled against her captor’s hold. He lifted her off her feet, both arms wrapped around her chest. With her hands pinned to her sides, she kicked into the air. “Let me go; let me go!”

  “Stop fighting; it’s over,” the voice commanded.

  Tara sobbed as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. A second figure approached from the front, hands raised to fend off her flailing feet. She twisted and turned in her cage of muscled flesh until she found an opening. Like a rabid dog, she bit down on the closest piece of skin she could find. Her teeth sank into the unresistant meat, and the salty tang of sweat coated her mouth.

  Her captor roared, and a solid blow landed on her temple. Stunned, Tara let go, the metallic taste of blood lingering on her lips. A second blow ended her struggles.

  As her vision faded to darkness, she saw James’ pleading gaze once more. Kill me
, please.

  “I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry,” Tara whimpered as her head slumped to the side. “Forgive me.”

  Chapter 10 - Bannock

  Bannock led the way to the laboratory with reluctance. He’d already seen Tara’s handiwork, and he didn’t want to see it again. For once, he was thankful he’d missed breakfast. Not that the slop they served in the cafeteria counted as food. There were days when he sorely missed Fort Detrick. At least, the kitchen staff knew how to cook. Unlike a bunch of convicts who cared little for the niceties of life.

  They passed through a checkpoint, and the guards nodded at King before stepping aside. They didn’t bother to greet Bannock, and he was acutely aware of the contempt in their eyes as he passed. It was another reason he often missed mealtimes. The former prisoners now under King’s command had no respect for the scientist. He was soft and wimpy, a coward who got by because he was useful to his master. If it weren’t for King’s protection, he’d be lying in a shallow grave with a cut throat. Food for the worms.

  At the entrance of the lab, two guards awaited them. The same two who caught Tara on the ground floor. They shifted to the side, and he removed his key card from his pocket. The same one he’d left with the unfortunate James Dean in case of emergencies. He’d found it on the floor by the fire exit. Tara had dropped it in her headlong flight.

  To state he was shocked when he spotted her escaping was a gross understatement. Not only was she out of the lab and running for her life, but the howls of a dying man echoed throughout the corridor.

  After sounding the alarm, Bannock had investigated only to find James trapped while Betsie feasted on his exposed flesh. He’d backed away and screamed for help. Minutes later, two guards showed up carrying an unconscious Tara between them. That was when he fetched King.

  Bannock slid the key card through the lock, and the door swished open. He stepped into the opening and surveyed the lab, ever amazed that such technology existed during the apocalypse. The facility was pristine. Pure white floors melded seamlessly with the walls and ceiling. Smooth countertops and gleaming chrome caught the eye, while the low hum of electric-driven machinery hovered in the background.

  But, the perfect layout was marred by the half-eaten, half-crushed corpse stuck in the doorway that led to the specimen cages. The man formerly known as James Dean hung suspended in the air, lifeless.

  His eyes were dull and sightless, his face torn to shreds by Betsie’s fingernails. She’d ripped off most of his shirt and great chunks of flesh was missing from his neck, shoulders, and back. A pool of congealed blood littered by bits of skin and meat spread across the floor, and the smell of copper pennies hung thick in the air.

  A thick drop of blood plopped into the pool below, causing a faint ripple. The fluid had the consistency of jelly, and Bannock closed his eyes as bile burned the back of his throat. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

  Behind James, Betsie paced like a caged animal, her low growls turning into enraged snarls when she spotted them. She threw herself at the opening below James’ body and tried to crawl through the narrow opening. It was too small, however, and she hissed with frustration as one arm stretched toward them with clawed fingers.

  “So, what did Dr. Lee do this time?” King asked as he hobbled through the doorway. “And what’s that noise? Is that Betsie?”

  King swung around Bannock, one crutch going wide. He almost lost his footing before he stopped short, his gaze fixed on James’ corpse. “Good God, that’s awful.”

  “You can say that again,” Bannock murmured in a low voice.

  “How on earth did she manage to do that?”

  “I don’t know, Sir,” Bannock answered, struggling to control his heaving stomach.

  “Where is she?” King demanded, his tone rising to match his flaring temper. Bannock recognized the signs, and he backed away as far as he dared.

  “Er, they caught her running for the exit, Sir,” Bannock explained, pointing at the two silent guards.

  “Where is she now?”

  “I knocked her out and placed her in her room, Sir,” one of the guards said.

  “Knocked her out? I hoped you didn’t damage her,” King said with a frown.

  “No, Sir. She’ll be fine, but I had no choice. She wouldn’t calm down,” the guard said.

  King shook his head, pacing up and down on his crutches. “What am I to do with that woman? She refuses to listen, refuses to obey. She’s a menace!”

  “I’m familiar with that side of Dr. Lee,” Bannock agreed.

  “Who asked you?” King barked, throwing Bannock a mean look.

  Bannock backpedaled, and he stuttered a weak apology. “Sorry, Sir.”

  “This shouldn’t have happened in the first place. How did she get out?”

  “She stole my key from the guard after…” Bannock swallowed hard. “After she killed him, I think.”

  “You think?” King said with a sneer. “What else do you think with that brilliant mind of yours, Dr. Bannock? How did she kill the guard?”

  Bannock hesitated. “I…I think she lured him into the specimen area before releasing Betsie—”

  “Bravo, you idiot. At least, you got something right,” King roared. “It’s pretty obvious how she did it. Any moron can see that.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” Bannock said, his cheeks burning with humiliation in front of the snickering guards. He’d be the laughing stock of the campus by dinner time.

  “From now on, nobody opens that door except you or me. Plus, I want an extra guard on that door. Let her try to get past two of them,” King commanded. “See to it, Bannock.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And change the override code on the specimen cages. She can collect samples, but that’s it.”

  Bannock nodded, the soft flesh under his chin wobbling.

  “If she tries to escape again, I’ll hold you personally responsible, Dr. Bannock. That’s a promise,” King threatened with bared teeth. “Do you understand?”

  “I understand, Sir.”

  “You’ll both die a painful death that will make his look like a walk in the park,” King said, pointing at the unfortunate James.

  At the same time, a peculiar sound drew their attention. It issued from James’ throat and sounded like a mixture of bubbling liquid and nails on a chalkboard. Betsie growled and backed away, her dark gaze fixed on the new threat.

  To Bannock’s horror, James’ corpse blinked, and his eyes rolled toward them. His mouth yawned open before snapping shut like a bear trap, and black veins marred what was left of his skin. His broken bones crackled as he attempted to move, grinding against each other and his flesh. He reached for them with futile hunger but was unable to move.

  Like something freshly risen from hell, the monster that used to be James shrieked with hunger, and Bannock backpedaled toward the exit. Fear coursed through his veins like acid, and a cold sweat beaded his forehead.

  King remained in place, unmoved by the terror that presented itself. Instead, he grinned. “I was wondering when he’d turn. Took him long enough.”

  “What…what do we do with him, Sir?” Bannock asked, his insides liquefying at the sight of zombie James.

  “Do with him?” King asked with a deep chuckle. “Why, we’ll keep him, of course. He can keep Betsie company. I’m sure she’s getting lonely.”

  Bannock stared at King, certain the man had gone mad. “Sir?”

  King pinned him to the spot with a sharp glare. “You could use another specimen, am I right?”

  “I suppose so, Sir.”

  “Well, now you’ve got one,” King said before turning to the two guards. “Get those things back into their cages. Use the catcher’s poles we got from the local animal shelter.”

  “Yes, Sir,” the guards responded.

  “Besides, keeping him here will force Dr. Lee to face her handiwork. Day after day, she’ll have to look at the man she murdered in such a horrific fashion,” King added.
<
br />   “I see, Sir. Clever,” Bannock muttered.

  “Of course, it’s clever. I thought of it. A woman of good conscience like Dr. Lee will slowly crumble beneath the weight of what she’s done,” King said, hobbling toward the exit. “Maybe now, she’ll obey.”

  He paused at the lab door, reaching for his key card. “Make sure my instructions are carried out, Bannock.”

  “I will, Sir.”

  “And leave the mess for her to clean up. It’ll serve her right,” King said with a cruel smile.

  Bannock nodded, eager to get back into King’s good graces. “I’ll see to it, Sir.”

  “You’d better. Remember, if she tries to run again, you’re both dead,” King said before exiting the lab.

  Bannock stared after the lieutenant, cold fear worming through his innards. The chances of Tara obeying King was next to zero. As sure as the sun rose in the east, she’d try again. He swallowed hard. Maybe I should’ve stayed at Fort Detrick. At least, my talents were appreciated there.

  Chapter 11 - Amy

  “Hey, sleepyheads. Time to get up,” a cheerful voice called, dragging Amy from slumber. She peeked over the edge of her duvet and saw Amanda waltz into the room with a bright smile on her face. She wore a pair of black pants, matching flat shoes, a button-up shirt in dark blue, and her auburn hair was drawn back in a smooth knot. Her eyes swept over the room before settling on the bunk bed and its occupants. “Come on. I don’t have all day. We have much to do.”

  Amy groaned. “Five more minutes, please? I’m still tired.”

  Jenny didn’t even move in the bunk above Amy’s head.

  “That’s impossible. It’s almost eight in the morning already,” Amanda said. With brisk efficiency, she swept open the curtains. “You’ve slept long enough. Both of you.”

  Amy yelped as bright sunlight flooded the room and raised one hand to shade her eyes. “Wow, that’s bright.”

  “Shut it off,” Jenny cried from the bunk above her head. “It’s burning my eyes.”