The Zombie Uprising Series: Books One Through Five

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The Zombie Uprising Series: Books One Through Five Page 41

by M. A. Robbins


  Jen ran to the room and flung the door open. "We've got an MP patrol outside and I'll bet they've called for backup."

  27

  Mark pushed Morgan's face into the bed and pulled his arms behind him. Morgan cried out, "Don't break my arms."

  Zeke held up a pair of zip tie handcuffs. "Found these in the truck."

  Mark put them on Morgan and pulled him to his feet. "Come on."

  Jen led them to the front window. Red and blue lights flashed down the street. MPs, their guns drawn, took cover a block over. "We've got a bunch of MPs on the right." She looked down the other end of the street. No movement. "But the left looks clear."

  Zeke opened the door and Mark walked out, pushing Morgan in front of him. He held his pistol to the doctor's head.

  An MP shouted, "Drop your weapons."

  "You're going to let us leave," Mark yelled. "Or Morgan's dead."

  Jen and Zeke stayed behind Mark as they moved toward the truck.

  "I repeat. Drop your weapons or we'll open fire."

  The lights of two more MP trucks turned a corner in the distance. "Shit," Mark said. "New plan."

  "What new plan?" Jen asked.

  "You take Morgan in the truck. Zeke and I will cover you and keep these guys busy."

  "Bullshit," Jen said.

  "I don't want to die," Morgan moaned.

  "Mark's right," Zeke said. "It's the only way. We'll distract them so you can get Morgan somewhere secure, then we'll meet up with you later."

  This whole thing's going to shit. "Where?"

  "That first building downtown they left us on," Mark said. "Now take Morgan. No time for chitchat."

  Jen grasped Morgan's upper arm and pulled him toward the truck.

  "This is your last warning," the MP yelled. "Drop your weapons and release Dr. Morgan."

  Mark and Zeke ran back to the house, firing several shots toward the MPs. Jen yanked Morgan to the truck and flung the back door open. "Move it, asshole." She shoved him onto the seat and slammed the door.

  Bullets pinged off the back of the Humvee as Jen jumped into the driver's seat. A voice called out. "Do not fire on the vehicle. Dr. Morgan is in it."

  The front window of the house was already gone. Zeke and Mark fired steadily from the shadows.

  Jen started the engine and peeled out. She glanced back at the house. You assholes better escape or I'll kick your butts.

  She took the next turn hard and heard a thump in the back. "Ow," Morgan said.

  Straightening the truck, she floored it, blowing through stop signs and heading for the flight line. Flashing lights pulled out several blocks back.

  "Better hold on, Morgan. It's gonna get rocky."

  "I'm still on the floor. Let me get up."

  They flew across the flight line, bouncing and shuddering on the uneven ground on the other side. Morgan screamed as he was thrown around in the back. Jen grinned. "Ooo. I bet that's gonna bruise."

  The gap fence was lit up like a theater stage, and several soldiers milled around. They looked up as the Humvee zoomed down the slope toward the fence. Jen honked the horn and kept the pedal to the floor. "Hang on, Morgan. We've got a Humvee this time and we're going through that freaking fence."

  The soldiers scattered, one diving out of the Humvee's way at the last second. The vehicle hit the fence and the chain link tore right off the posts. The Humvee slowed as it went through the second fence and damn near didn't make it through the third.

  Jen goosed the accelerator, turned off her lights, and drove into the darkness. Her pursuers stopped at the ruined fence.

  A few minutes later, she turned onto South Graham Road, speeding for the 902 into Spokane. She slammed her fist on the dash.

  No way they didn't get caught. And a damn good chance they were shot.

  She took the on ramp to the 902. When she checked her rearview mirror, Morgan's face filled it. He had a good bruise on his forehead and his glasses were missing. "What do you think of me so far?" Jen asked. He remained tight-lipped.

  She sped up, dodging abandoned vehicles and the occasional zombie. Glancing out the windows and in the rearview mirror every couple of minutes, she strained to hear the sound of approaching rotors. But none came.

  Reaching Highway 90, she slowed as the obstacles increased. The sky had gone into a deep blue pre-dawn. Got to find a place to hole up.

  When they reached the Route 2 interchange, the road cleared. It looked as if someone had gone through with plows and pushed everything to the side.

  Morgan leaned back in the seat. "You know the colonel will move heaven and earth to free me."

  Jen took the exit to South Division Street and turned north. "I'm counting on it."

  Small groups of zombies wandered about. All drones. All they need is one leader to pick up the thousands wandering the city.

  Morgan straightened in the seat and peered out the window. His voice trembled. "Do you know how many zombies are out here? You can turn a corner and be surrounded by ten thousand."

  Jen chuckled. "Wouldn't that be karma if they chewed on the asshole experimenting on them."

  "We can't keep driving around the city like this," Morgan said. "We'll draw the wrong kind of attention."

  Jen stopped the Humvee. "Shush."

  "Don't shush me."

  Jen drew her Beretta and pointed it at Morgan's face. "Then shut the fuck up instead."

  Morgan went silent. Jen turned off the engine and opened her window. Loose garbage and leaves skittered down the street in the wind. But another sound rose above it. Still in the distance, it grew louder.

  Helicopter.

  28

  Jen started the engine and threw it into gear. She knew where she wanted to hide out, and it wasn't far.

  They zoomed down South Division Street, barely missing an overturned van and plowing over a zombie dog that rushed in front of them. At Second Avenue, Jen took a sharp left and turned off her lights.

  She pulled up in front of a long tall building off South Madison Street, turned off the Humvee, and hopped out with her axe in hand. The helicopter was so loud, she expected to see it hovering over her.

  Opening the back door, she grabbed Morgan by the upper arm and yanked him out of the vehicle. "Stay right here. I'm your only protection."

  Leaning into the front seat, Jen picked up the M4 Zeke had left and threw it over her shoulder.

  "You can't do this to me," Morgan said. "I was just following orders."

  Jen guided him through a set of glass doors and pulled him toward the stairs. "I suggest you shut the hell up unless you want to attract some of your friendly neighborhood drones."

  Morgan's lips tightened.

  They stopped on the third floor landing. Had she heard something? Jen pressed an ear against the door. Shambling footsteps. A few, just a few. She put a finger to her lips and jerked her thumb at the door. Morgan nodded. He understood.

  Keeping hold of his upper arm, she guided him up the next few flights to the top floor, where a sign welcomed them to the top-rated insurance company in the state. Jen dragged him into an office and sat him behind a desk. "You can cool your heels here while I check things out."

  "You can't leave me tied up and alone," Morgan whined. "What if a zombie comes by while you're gone?"

  Jen stepped into the hallway. "If you're quiet, they won't know you're here." She closed the door. Dumbass.

  Methodically working her way from office to office, it took her twenty minutes to clear the floor. She had half a mind to jerk the office door open and see if Morgan would shit his pants, but decided against it. Don't want to be stuck up here with that and no ventilation.

  She pulled the desk out of the office and shoved it against the door to the stairway. Won't stop a horde, but it'll keep anything from sneaking up on me.

  Morgan glared at her as she plopped down on a chair next to him. "Butler's going to tear your friends apart if you don't let me go."

  Jen's gut ached. I got them into it and
I'll get them back.

  Feeling anything but happy, she nonetheless smiled at Morgan. "As long as I have you, he won't do shit." She pulled the radio off her belt and switched it on.

  Nothing came across. She changed the channel. Still nothing. "What channels do they use?"

  Morgan slumped back in his seat and shrugged. "How the hell do I know? I need something and I pick up the phone."

  Jen scoffed. Asshole's as useful as a solar-powered flashlight.

  She continued changing the channel. A voice came from the radio on the third try. "Echo Twenty-three to base. Entering Medical Lake."

  Keying the mic, she said, "This is a message for Command One. Command One, do you read?"

  Silence, then, "Base to unidentified personnel. This is a military-restricted channel. Identify yourself."

  "I want to talk to Command One."

  "Negative. Identify yourself. You are in violation of emergency martial law orders and will be held accountable."

  Jen stood. "Look, asswipe. Butler's already trying to kill me, so I'm not particularly worried about some regulations. I suggest you get that excuse of a colonel on here because I have something he wants."

  Weaker voices came across, patrols communicating directly with each other. Then a burst of static. "Base to unidentified personnel. Switch to channel thirty-two."

  "Ten-four, good buddy. Keep them smokies off your tail."

  Jen moved the dial to the new channel and listened. Nothing but light static. A clear channel? Doesn't want any of his men hearing this.

  She keyed the mic. "I'm here."

  "Seems you and I have a problem." Butler's voice seemed strained, even over the airwaves.

  "Yup. How about we make a trade? Give me my folks back and you get Doctor Frankenstein here."

  Morgan scowled at her. She kept the mic keyed and kicked him in the shin.

  "Ow. Bitch. Get me out of here, Butler."

  Jen brought the mic to her lips. "Your guy's still up and kicking. How about I talk to mine?"

  "Jen."

  "Mark? You and Zeke OK?"

  "Yeah. Listen, don't trust—"

  "Mark? Can you hear me? Mark?"

  Butler's voice came on. She could hear the sneer in it. "Your friends are fine. Where do we make the exchange?"

  Morgan gave Jen a puzzled look as she strode from the room and down the hall.

  "Where do we make the exchange?" Butler repeated.

  Jen peered out a window at the end of the hall. "Remember the hotel roof you dropped us off at?"

  "Yes."

  The hotel's roof was visible. Just a block away. "Bring Mark and Zeke, and you'll get Morgan."

  "When?"

  "How long will it take you to get here?"

  Butler paused.

  "An hour."

  Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes for him to get here. Son of a bitch is up to something. "Agreed."

  The channel went silent. Jen turned the radio off and clipped it back to her belt.

  She'd set it up so Butler would land on the hotel and she could see if he was alone, then have him fly over to the building she was in.

  Morgan looked up when she entered the office. "So?"

  Jen shrugged. "Your boss said he'll be here in an hour. I've got plans to throw him off his game."

  Morgan laughed. "You think you're going to outthink a soldier? Little girl, he's already ten moves ahead of you."

  Jen sighed. What a dick. She turned her back to him and strolled out of the office. She'd found a snack room with a cupboard full of goodies on the other side of the floor when she'd cleared it. Her stomach growled at the thought of food.

  Chomping on a bag of chips, she turned the radio back on. Was Butler listening for something from her?

  She changed the channel back to the active one she'd first found. Still some traffic about Medical Lake. Sounded like they'd caught a significant horde and were busy clearing it out.

  "Base to all units. Base to all units. Zulu activity increasing in Spokane. All units directed to evacuate from Spokane and back to base. Do not engage. Repeat. Return to base and do not engage."

  What the hell?

  An Apache helicopter flew overhead, heading back to base. Jen ran back to the office. Morgan looked up at her as she entered. Something on her face got his attention.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  Sunrays shot like laser beams across the room. Jen peeked through the blinds and onto the street below. It was flooded with zombies, both human and the occasional canine. They looked like ants swarming a dropped ice cream cone on a summer's day.

  Jen's heart raced. Where the hell'd they all come from? And so fast?

  The zombies froze. Jen blinked her eyes. Did that just happen?

  The radio squawked. "Base to all military units. Stay on this channel. Base to Jen. Switch to channel thirty-two."

  "What the hell's your boss up to, now?" She turned to channel thirty-two and keyed the mic. "Butler. You there?"

  "Have you looked onto the street lately?" Butler sounded proud of himself.

  "Bunch of zombies. Same shit, different day."

  "Oh, I think there's some different shit today," Butler said. "Leader One, disperse your troops to search the buildings for Jen Reed. You and your drones have explicit orders to kill, but not infect her. You also have explicit orders to deliver Dr. Morgan safely to me. If any of your drones fail, you will be punished."

  Jen chewed the edge of her lip. Is this shit for real?

  The zombies parted a block away, and a single figure, wearing a plastic helmet and a uniform, walked through them.

  "So you've got a leader looking for us? Good luck with that."

  The uniformed figure stopped, and the zombies split into groups and poured into buildings.

  Butler laughed. "I've got the numbers. They'll find you. And I've been thinking that I'll let the drones capture you and hold you for the leader to kill."

  There's something more here. Something he's dying to tell me. "I'll bite. What's the big surprise?"

  Butler chuckled. "I guess the leader's not close enough to make out well. But when you do meet face-to-face, why don't you give my regards to Corporal Grant?"

  29

  Jen squinted and tried to make out features of the lone figure, but he disappeared into the financial building across the street. Could be Grant. Could be a hundred other guys from the base.

  "I guess you're screwed," Morgan said.

  Jen blinked. Grant or not, she was in the shit.

  She raced to the stairway door and pressed her ear against it. Dozens of footsteps echoed from below. She pushed on her blockade. It'd keep dozens back, but they'd just call for reinforcements and get through, anyhow.

  She hiked her rifle on her shoulder and pulled Morgan from the chair.

  "There's no place to run," he said.

  She pushed him in front of her. "Move. Down the hall."

  He shrugged and lumbered down the hallway and around the corner. She stopped him at a door with a sign that read "Roof Access."

  Morgan laughed. "This is your plan? What are you going to do, jump?"

  She pulled his cuffed hands up, stretching the ligaments in his shoulders. He cried out.

  "Maybe I'm going up there to push you off. Ever think of that?"

  Pulling the door open, she shoved him through. Truth is, I have no idea what I'm doing. But one thing I've learned in the last month is there are always ways out if you look for them.

  They reached the roof and the door slammed shut behind them. "Sit," she said.

  Morgan sat, cross-legged, watching her with interest, but keeping his mouth shut.

  Jen ran to the far corner. No roofs close enough to jump onto. She checked out each corner in turn, with the same result.

  I really screwed this one up. Should've made sure I had an escape route when I chose the building. Mark would've done that.

  Movement caught her attention. The figure in uniform walked, head down, acr
oss the roof of the financial building. It took slow, purposeful steps, and stopped opposite from Jen. She walked to the edge of the roof to get a better look. It lifted its head.

  Grant.

  Grant's yellow eyes bore into hers. Without a movement or a word from him, the other buildings emptied and the zombies dashed into hers.

  Jen unslung the rifle from her shoulder and aimed it at Grant. He stood unmoving, but quivered in her sights as she fought to control her breathing.

  It's not Grant anymore. It's Butler's tool.

  Banging came from the door. Not much time. She dropped to a knee, propping an elbow on a kneecap to steady herself. She took a deep breath, aimed, and let out half her breath. Faces flashed through her mind: her father, Doc, Chris. Tears welled in her eyes. I'm sorry, Grant. She squeezed the trigger and the bullet went through Grant's left eye and blew his zombie brains and pieces of the shattered helmet across the rooftop. He wavered for a second, then flopped onto his back, disappearing behind the roof's raised edge.

  She swallowed. All he wanted was to get back to Kodiak to check on his family.

  Zombies in the street stopped in their tracks, then shuffled aimlessly. Many wandered onto the street from her building.

  She turned toward Morgan, who sat with his head hung. "Guess you assholes didn't think about someone taking out your leaders," she said. "Pretty easy fix."

  Jen keyed the mic. "Uh, Butler. I think your dastardly plan to conquer the world has hit a snag."

  The radio remained silent. Jen shoved the mic toward Morgan. "Maybe you better tell him."

  She keyed the mic. "Butler, this is Morgan. She shot the leader. All the drones will return to their default behavior."

  "What the hell does that mean?" Butler's voice was laced with fury.

  "They'll wander around until they spot a meal, or there's some other disturbance," Morgan said.

  Jen took the mic. "Not too smart, Butt head. Should've kept your general in the rear, where he was safe."

 

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