Revelation: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller (Arize Book 2)

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Revelation: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller (Arize Book 2) Page 13

by Scott Nicholson

“Suit yerself,” Chuck said. “It’s your funeral.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Nicholas was bouncing his foam-rubber ball against the wall of his room.

  Thump thump thump thump.

  Rocky stirred in the bed, not wanting to rise. He was so warm and comfortable, and he could feel his wife’s curves pressed against his back. He could lie here for a million years.

  Then Nicholas knocked over something big—a piece of furniture or a lamp.

  His wife moaned and muttered, “Your turn.”

  “He’s all right,” Rocky whispered, his throat dry as he rolled over to embrace her. “I think it’s our turn.”

  But his arm went around a sandbag, and he was back in his Afghanistan outpost, stiff from sleeping sitting up against the rocky hillside. He scolded himself.

  You can’t sleep. You’re on watch.

  His eyes snapped open to darkness. “I’m on watch.”

  And the noise wasn’t Nicholas.

  The furniture blockading the broken door shifted, a couch scooting across the tiles with a soft squeak. Rocky switched on his flashlight. A table flipped over with a crash, and Rocky was horrified to see a gap of several inches around the doorframe.

  He was reluctant to call out a warning to the others, since the deaders might become agitated and swarm the building. He eased the M16’s safety into firing position and backed his way down the hall. When he reached the locked office where the others were sleeping, he knocked quietly but steadily. Within moments, Hannah answered, her young face pinched with drowsiness.

  “Got company,” Rocky said. “Wake them all up.”

  Not waiting for a response, Rocky conducted a quick recon from any windows he could access. He could see the electric light pouring from the group’s room, powered by the photovoltaic system. At the murky edge of its reach, silhouettes shuffled across the neatly landscaped lawn.

  Lots of silhouettes.

  “Shit.” Rocky jogged back to the group and told them to kill the light and then stood guard in the hallway.

  According to Rocky’s watch, it was ten minutes after five. Dawn was still a couple of hours away. Whatever strategy they employed, they’d have to undertake it in the dark.

  “What’s the situation?” Sonia asked, pulling on her rumpled jacket as the others gathered around in the lobby. Rocky hooded his flashlight with one hand so zombies wouldn’t see it through the glass.

  “I think they got through the fence somehow,” Rocky said. “Or maybe they broke out of the lab. I’m guessing maybe twenty, maybe a couple of dozen. But who knows what’s lurking out there beyond the light?”

  “They must’ve smelled us,” Meg said.

  “Because we’re the only thing left to eat,” Arjun said.

  “What about those dead bodies upstairs?” Meg asked Jiang. “You said it created a barrier, probably by masking the smell.”

  Rocky realized he’d grown accustomed to the stench and had forgotten it until Meg mentioned it. Now it repulsed him all over again and brought back the ghoulish memory of the corpse pile.

  “It’s too late.” Jiang appeared to have aged a decade overnight. Watery pouches of bruised purple filled the flesh under his eyes. “Even if we could move the bodies in time, they’ve already sensed us.”

  The pile of furniture shifted another few inches at the end of the hallway and cool night air wafted in from the opening.

  “We could go to the second floor and fight them as they come up the stairs,” Sonia said. “Or we can retreat past your…barricade…and see if they cross it a second time.”

  “That might work,” Rocky said. “But if it doesn’t, then we’re trapped.”

  “All the doors are electronically locked,” Jiang said. “You’ll have to break the glass to get out through the main entrance or one of the windows.”

  “That kind of noise would bring them on the run,” Hannah said. “Besides, once we get out, what do we do? Hope we get lucky in the dark and don’t bump into any deaders? Even if we make it to the fence, we don’t know how many are waiting on the other side.”

  “I hate to give up on this place,” Meg said. “We don’t know how much useful research the staff was able to compile before they turned. That lab might hold the secret to a cure. That’s why we came here in the first place, remember?”

  “Fight our way out of here, and then fight our way into the lab?” Rocky shook his head. “I don’t like those odds.”

  “What about the NIH and EPA?” Meg asked Jiang. “Did you have any contact with them?”

  “Not since the day before Easter.” Jiang swayed back and forth as if losing strength in his legs. “They were trying to evacuate.”

  “So they probably don’t have any viable information, either,” Meg said. She pulled her son close, absentmindedly rubbing his head to soothe him. The boy still clung to the teddy bear he’d retrieved from his sister’s grave.

  “What about wheels?” Arjun said. “Instead of climbing over the fence, maybe we can go through it.”

  “You guys go ahead,” Meg said. “I can’t leave until I know what the researchers found out.”

  “Mom!” Jacob said. “You can’t stay here! And if you do, I’m staying with you.”

  “Even if you aren’t attacked and consumed, you’ll be exposed to whatever viral strains the team was isolating,” Jiang said.

  “I’m already exposed,” Meg said. “We all are.”

  “To the Klondike Flu, yes. But what if it mutated into something even more virulent? Do you want to risk letting that out into the world?”

  “We’ve got corpses rising from the grave and walking around like it’s trick-or-treat,” Sydney said. “And we’re the candy. I don’t see how it could get any worse.”

  “Guys,” Hannah said, lifting a hand. They fell into a hush and Rocky clicked off the flashlight for a few seconds.

  The growls and groans of the deaders amassed at the door grew louder. Rocky estimated eight or ten of them. If they had the capacity for organization, they would’ve already pushed their way inside. The group didn’t have much time.

  “There’s a Nissan delivery truck parked behind the lab,” Jiang said, producing his key ring and pressing it into Sonia’s hand. “The one marked ‘NV Cargo.’ It should be able to penetrate the gate.”

  “That’s a least a hundred yards away,” Rocky said. “What’s it like behind the building? Cramped quarters? Room to turn around? Risk of being surrounded?”

  “I know the area,” Meg said. “It’s the shipping bay. We can do it.”

  “So you’re coming?” Jacob’s face brightened with relief.

  “I promised I’d never leave you, and I can’t let you stay.”

  “Okay,” Sonia said. “Sounds like a plan. Any objections?”

  “We can’t carry all our gear,” Hannah said. “Unless we want to pull the truck up to the front door and load it all up.”

  “There’s nothing we can’t replace,” Sonia said. “Except our lives.”

  “Copy that,” Rocky said. “Me and Hannah will lay down the cover fire. Sonia, you’re driving.”

  “What do I do?” Arjun asked.

  Rocky studied the slender, black-haired nerd. He didn’t really trust the young man yet, but if they were going to make it much farther, the group needed every hand on deck.

  “You take point,” Rocky said. “Listen to Meg and lead the way. The rest of you, keep up as best you can.”

  “What about Jiang?” Meg asked, and the group fell silent again. The old man didn’t seem physically capable of sprinting that far across open ground, pursued by flesh-eating creatures.

  “Nothing has changed for me,” Jiang said. “I had the opportunity to leave earlier and I chose not to. I built this company and I belong here at the end.”

  Rocky wasn’t sure whether the Chinese executive meant the end of the company or the end of his life.

  “We’re not giving up on BioGenix for good, Jiang,” Meg said. “We’ll just hav
e to wait it out and maybe come back when things settle down. Maybe with hazmat suits and a federal team…”

  Meg trailed away when she felt everyone looking at her. Such a future seemed unlikely. The door scraped a little more as the zombies pushed forward. Rocky shined his beam down the hallway. The gap was now six inches wide, and a couple of hands reached through, pawing and raking at the air.

  “We’re out of time,” Rocky said. He swept the flashlight beam across the windows of the lobby. The patio entrance and lawn appeared clear.

  Arjun and Hannah flicked on their flashlights and everyone gathered their weapons. Meg took Jiang’s arm and tugged him to the door. He was too lethargic to resist. Rocky made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

  “Everyone ready?” Sonia asked.

  Rocky pointed his M16 at the front doors. “Here goes.”

  The rifle’s report was deafening, ripping through the night as the bullets shattered the glass. “Let’s roll,” he said, kicking away a few larger shards that still clung to the frame.

  Arjun ducked through the opening, stooping low as he ran, sweeping his flashlight in a wide arc before him. Meg shouted directions, holding onto both Jiang and Jacob as she followed. Sydney and Sonia went next, sprinting into the darkness and following the bobbing orb of Arjun’s light.

  “Go ahead,” Rocky said to Hannah. “Be right there.”

  He ran to the barricaded door and shoved some of the furniture aside. The barrier gave way as the waiting zombies nudged the desk forward. One of them slid through the opening, squeezing past an upturned chair.

  “Come and get it, you nut-less sons of bitches,” Rocky shouted, hoping to lure them into the building. They would soon find their way out again when they realized their prey was gone, but the diversion might buy the group precious minutes.

  Rocky dashed back through the lobby and out the entrance, nearly slipping on the broken glass. Hannah called to him and he headed toward her. Arjun was already almost to the lab.

  So far, so good. This just might work.

  Hannah’s gunfire suggested it might not be so easy. Shapes came lumbering out of the dark from all directions. Rocky aimed as best he could while angling his flashlight down the barrel of his rifle, but he couldn’t register any kill shots. He gave up trying for the head and concentrated on just knocking them down.

  Best case, Rocky hoped their shots would draw the zombies away from the rest of the group. But the others had covered little ground. Jiang was slowing them down. Arjun had already vanished behind the research building, with Sonia close behind.

  “What’s the problem?” Rocky said, although he already knew.

  “I’m no good for this,” Jiang said.

  “You guys go on,” Rocky said to Meg and Jacob. “Arjun needs you. We’ll catch up.”

  “We can do this,” Meg said. “Together.”

  “No.” Jiang, panting and gasping for breath, reared up and threw his shoulders back in a burst of defiance. “This is my company.”

  “We’re surrounded,” Rocky said. “We’ll have to fight our way through.”

  “I’m finished fighting.”

  Before Meg could stop him, the old man raced off into the darkness, fueled by some inner reserve of energy. As soon as he was out of range of their flashlights, he began calling out in Chinese, his clipped words interrupted with manic laughter. It sounded like he was taunting or cursing the zombies that dared to trespass onto his life’s work.

  Rocky heard a thud as something large struck Jiang. The man grunted but kept moving, and the gray shapes around the group followed him into the dark. Seconds later came a scream, followed by the wet rasps and sloppy moans of a herd of feeding deaders.

  “Move!” Rocky said, and they headed for the building. Before they could reach it, a heavy engine roared and a pair of headlights winked to life.

  The Nissan van sped around the corner, rubber squealing on the pavement. The swath of headlights illuminated five or six deaders coming toward the group. Sonia angled the Nissan to block the attack, shifting gears. It was only then that Rocky realized the van had a manual transmission. He was glad Sonia was competent.

  When the van reached them, it slowed to a crawl. Sonia shouted through her open window, “Around back!”

  Arjun hung from the rear of the Nissan, its door swung open. He waved his flashlight to signal them. Rocky boosted Jacob into the van’s cargo area, then slid his rifle onto the steel deck and clambered up the rear bumper. Hannah gracefully launched herself up to safety, and Meg held onto the truck for a few moments, looking back as if Jiang might magically pop out of the darkness at any moment.

  Then Arjun grabbed her wrist and lifted her into the van just as Sonia accelerated through the parking lot.

  “Hold on,” Hannah said, but the Nissan was empty except for a few quilted pads and nylon tie straps.

  Sonia plowed through the gate at forty miles an hour, the steel grates grinding beneath the chassis and axles for a moment before squirting free. The twisted metal clanged across the asphalt and struck a car.

  One final deader lunged out from the trees near the fence, its tortured, stained face leering in the red taillights of the truck.

  Then it too fell away to darkness.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The sunrise was glorious, painting the ribbed clouds red as a new day dawned.

  Not just a new day, a new era.

  By the time the Black Hawk landed at the improvised helipad outside Promiseland, Cameron Ingram, president of the United States of America, had appointed Cyrus Woodley Vice President and ordered the Cabinet and the remaining members of the Supreme Court to relocate to his Raleigh facility. Gen. Ridley tried to convince Ingram to remain at Camp David until the public was informed of the change, but the news would spread soon enough anyway.

  The believers would see the hand of God working even in the tragic loss of President MacMillan. The heathens and the demons would continue their business of evil regardless. And for the tens of thousands of people struggling to survive on their own in the crumbling wasteland of a country, it made no difference who wore the crown.

  Now, standing in his office looking out at the ruins of Raleigh, he realized his flock had grown beyond imagining. And all the sheep would be counting on him.

  Sitting at the conference table were Ridley, Col. Hayes, Olin Starnes, Sarah Beth, and Cyrus. Ingram detected some tension between Ridley and Hayes but knew chain of command would prevail. Hayes was far too invested in a sense of duty to not fall in line. Ridley, whose service dated back to Vietnam, harbored some old-fashioned ideas of leadership and the role of the military. But he’d soon see that the true enemy wasn’t Russia, Communist China, or the Taliban, but the devil himself.

  “I know this is all rather sudden,” Ingram began, pacing back and forth at the head of the table. “But we’ve faced many rather sudden challenges recently. I need to know that I can count on each of you for the even harder road ahead.”

  Sarah Beth gave him an encouraging smile. She’d been overwhelmed with pride at his new position but had already counseled him not to abandon his sacred calling. In many ways, she was his spiritual advisor as well as his wife and companion. If the entire world burned down around them and everyone else brought out their knives against him, Sarah Beth would stand at his side until the last.

  “While I appreciate the many tasks a president must perform, we will maintain one priority during my term,” he continued. “And that is to prepare our people for the coming of the Lord. We’re at war with Satan and the hour grows near. And Satan works through all of those who refuse to join us.”

  “Forgive me, Mr. President,” Ridley said. “Satan is a rather nebulous target. Your predecessor used the military to exterminate zombies because that’s the immediate threat before us.”

  “Those enemies are one and the same. Do you think the plague was an accident? What is a zombie? A soulless, mindless beast driven by nothing but hunger. It’s the very symbol of
evil, of need, of greed. So of course we deploy our forces with the goal of wiping them out.”

  “What’s my role here?” Hayes asked.

  “You’re responsible for the safety of Promiseland, just as before. Continue to expand our perimeter. Oversee security efforts and make sure all refugees undergo a health screening and proper marking. Remember, what we do here is an example for shelters all over the country, and soon to the rest of the developed world.”

  “We’re going to need a Secretary of Health and Human Services,” Ridley said. “We already have logistical problems due to the number of personnel we’ve lost to the flu and its…symptoms. And we’re still suffering casualties in the field. At some point, we’re going to need scientists to come up with a response or this disease will just keep spreading.”

  “Science had its chance,” Ingram said. “What good did that do us? Plenty of knowledge, but very little understanding. Plenty of answers to all the wrong questions. The worship of facts but an utter disdain for the bigger truth.”

  Sarah Beth’s eyes gleamed with excitement at his words. She empathized with him. They shared a common faith. All their days and prayers had led to this moment.

  God had given him this power. So God found him special. And now God inspired Ingram’s actions.

  This was how power worked.

  This was how God worked.

  If God trusted Ingram with this power, then however Ingram wielded it was justified.

  So do I even need God anymore?

  Startled, Ingram pushed the thought away.

  “Sir?” Woodley asked, evidently seeing the confusion on Ingram’s face. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Just a little tired from the trip.” Which was a lie. He felt boundless energy and had scarcely slept. Or perhaps he hadn’t slept at all, and what he thought were dreams had been waking fantasies instead.

  But he didn’t want the others to see him unsettled. He dismissed the group and ordered Olin to set up satellite links with the Canadian and British prime ministers. On the videoconference call, he promised both leaders the support of U.S. military in exchange for accepting Ingram’s religious protocols. The leaders initially objected to forcing their citizens to bear tattoos in exchange for protection, but soon realized they faced extinction if they didn’t comply.

 

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