Rise of the Undead Box Set | Books 1-3 | Apocalypse Z

by Higgins, Baileigh

  Amy directed her feet toward the parking lot. A few cars and trucks were parked at regular intervals, but there was no sign of Alex or his party. She found a bench nearby and sat down, swinging her legs back and forth.

  A flock of pigeons landed in front of her, and she removed a cookie from her pocket. Breaking it into crumbs, she fed the birds, laughing when they fought over the delicacy. It felt good to be outside. After spending three days cooped up in a dark and gloomy basement followed by a lengthy stay in the ER, she craved the fresh air.

  Her memories of her illness was vague. Blurry. She did remember the way Alex had looked after her. She’d been in a bad place. Contracting a vicious infection on top of everything she’d lost; her parents, home, friends, Fort Knox, and Dylan; had nearly proven fatal. But, Alex had been there for her every step of the way, and now it was her turn to show him what she could do. She would prove to him that she could fight and survive in this new world.

  Suddenly, a group of people ran past her, their urgency evident in their every move. Two jumped onto bikes and raced away in a cloud of exhaust fumes and smoke. The rest milled about while one spoke on the radio. Finally, they jumped into a Jeep and spun out of the lot at full speed. Except for the guy on the radio.

  Amy jumped up and ran toward him, her heart banging in her chest. She didn’t know the man, but that didn’t matter. Something was wrong, and she was determined to find out what it was. Please, don’t let it be Alex and his group.

  “Sir, what’s going on?” Amy asked, tugging on the guy’s sleeve.

  “Huh?” He turned toward her with a bewildered look. When he saw it was a teenage girl, he frowned. “Miss, you’d better get inside. It’s safer there.”

  “Safer inside? What do you mean? What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Miss, please do as I say,” he replied, trying to wave her off, but she wasn’t going anywhere until she had her answers.

  “My brother is out there, and I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s safe,” Amy insisted, stamping her foot. “Tell me!”

  “Your brother? Who’s that?” the man said.

  “His name is Alex. He went out on a supply run this morning with Officer Brown and a few others. They haven’t come back yet.”

  The stranger hesitated. “I don’t know, Miss.”

  “Tell me what you know, please,” Amy begged. “My brother’s the only family I’ve got left.”

  “I…okay, fine. There are reports of a massive horde entering the city. They’re moving this way, and we’re going to try and lure them into a different direction,” he replied.

  “What does that have to do with my brother?” Amy asked.

  “Maybe nothing, but the horde is moving through the part of the city where they’d gone to gather supplies.”

  Amy paled, the blood leaving her face in a rush. “Are they dead? Did the zombies catch them?”

  “We don’t know yet, Miss. Maybe they were lucky and got to cover in time. If they did, they’ll be fine,” he answered.

  “But what if they didn’t? What if they got trapped? Caught? Surrounded?” Amy cried as one horrifying scenario after the next rushed through her mind.

  “You mustn’t think like that, Miss. Be positive,” the man said. “I’m sure they’re fine. Officer Brown isn’t the type to be caught with his pants down.”

  “You don’t know that. How can you?” she asked. The mere thought of losing Alex was enough to make her want to curl up and die. She swayed as a fit of dizziness hit her, and the stranger reached out to steady her.

  “Come on, Miss. Let me help you inside. There’s nothing you can do out here,” he said, helping her back toward the hospital. “Besides, we’re going on lockdown until the threat has passed.”

  “Lockdown?”

  “Yes. That means no noise, no lights, no movement until the horde has left the vicinity,” he explained as they walked. “We have to protect our people.”

  “Protect the people,” Amy repeated in a faint voice. But what about Alex? Who’s protecting him?

  She allowed the man to lead her back to her room where he handed her over to Dr. Williams. The doctor was not a happy man, his pen tapping against her file in a manner that indicated he was upset.

  “Where have you been? You missed lunch, and we’re on lockdown, little lady. Or haven’t you heard?” he asked as his greying brows knitted together.

  “I heard,” Amy replied, sinking onto the side of the bed. In truth, she didn’t give a crap about either the lockdown or the missed lunch.

  Dr. Williams paused in the middle of his tirade. “Are you alright? You look pale.”

  “I’m fine. It’s Alex,” Amy said.

  “What about him?” Dr. Williams asked.

  Amy told the doctor about the supply run, her gut twisting with misery the entire time. “He might be trapped or even dead. I have no way of knowing.”

  To her surprise, Dr. Williams snorted. “My dear, you are worried for nothing. Your brother is much tougher than he looks. The same goes for Officer Brown. That man is like a cockroach. Nothing can kill him, and he always looks after his team, including Alex.”

  “You think so?” Amy asked, relieved despite herself.

  “I don’t think so, I know so,” the doctor replied. “Now, I want you to get some rest. I’ll send Simone with something to help you sleep.”

  “But, I don’t want to sleep,” Amy protested.

  “And I don’t want to hear any more buts,” Dr. Williams said. “There’s nothing you can do except wait for Alex to return.”

  Dr. Williams left, and Amy threw herself onto the bed with a groan of frustration. Wait. That was all she ever did. Wait for Alex to return, wait for Dylan to come back, wait for the zombies to leave. Well, I’m done waiting. When Alex comes back, we’re leaving. It’s time we found Dylan. Time we found our own place in the world.

  Chapter 6 - Tara

  “Hold still, you big baby,” Tara admonished. “It’ll be over in a jiffy.”

  “I hate needles,” Saul said, wrinkling his nose when she inserted the point into his vein. With smooth efficiency, she withdrew and labeled several vials of blood.

  They went onto a tray next to Dylan’s and Sergeant Dean’s. Even though the sergeant showing no signs of turning into a zombie three days after receiving the cure, the major was still skeptical. He’d insisted on a full blood-analysis for each of the three cured individuals. What’s more, the tests had to be run by someone other than her or Ethan. Guess he doesn’t trust us.

  That wasn’t a problem. Despite the shortage of manpower, there were still plenty of scientists capable of such a task on the base. They were all employees of USAMRIID, and most of them lived and worked in Fort Detrick. Through luck, they were not inside the lab when it fell prey to the dead. They were either off sick, or not on shift that day.

  The problem lay in the equipment available to them. The most sophisticated stuff was inside the lab, while the infirmary boasted a more pedestrian selection. Even so, she hoped that this final test would serve to mollify the major and encourage him to clear out the laboratory.

  Tara wasn’t the only one who hoped so. Many of the scientists were tired of twiddling their thumbs and eager to explore the possibility of a vaccine. None of the remaining staff knew Tara; she’d been gone too long for that. But they all secretly rooted for her.

  “There you go,” Tara said, taping a wad of cotton wool over Saul’s wound. “All done.”

  “You’re a monster, you know that? Exploiting a man for science like that,” he said, getting up from the stool.

  Dylan snorted and looked up from the magazine she was reading, her legs stretched out before her. “Who’d have thought that tough guy Saul had a weakness for needles?”

  He pointed a finger at her. “You keep quiet about that, or I’ll skin you alive. You too, Sergeant Dean.”

  The sergeant donned an innocent look. “Me? I’d never rat on a fellow soldier.”

  “Me neither.
I have enough enemies on this base without making more,” Dylan replied.

  Tara sighed. That was true. Led by Miller and Jackson, a growing number of soldiers were turning against Dylan. They didn’t view her as human, but rather as a freak. It didn’t matter to them that both Saul and Sergeant Dean were the same as her. They were soldiers. Compadres. Dylan was not.

  Dismissing the thought for the moment, she scooped up the tray of blood vials and handed it over to Dr. Patel and Dr. Wilkins. Major Reed had insisted on two scientists to minimize the chances of Tara bribing them. She thought he was being ridiculous but could only shrug and roll her eyes. In secret, of course.

  “Thank you both for agreeing to do this,” Tara said. “The only request I have is that you submit your findings to the major as soon as possible. Time is of the essence.”

  “Of course,” Dr. Patel answered, her ebony hair shining in the fluorescent lights of the infirmary.

  “We’ll get the results, Dr. Lee,” Dr. Wilkins said with a benign smile on his freckled face.

  The scientists left the room, and Dylan jumped to her feet. “Right. Are we finished here?”

  Tara glanced at her watch. It was past five in the afternoon. “Yes, you’re done, but I still have a meeting with the major at six.”

  “What for?” Dylan asked.

  “It appears he values my ideas regarding our defenses. It pays to know so much about the zombies, I guess.”

  “At least, he’s listening to you,” Saul said, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll accompany you to his office.”

  “Thank you,” Tara said. “Oh, and did anyone remember to pick up our rations this morning?” Now that they were living in a house in the private quarters, the major had assigned them weekly rations that they could cook themselves.

  “I did,” Dylan replied. “There’s no way in hell I’m eating in the cafeteria again.”

  “Yes, I think it’s better that you avoid the place,” Tara agreed. “Or any place where the soldiers congregate.”

  “Like a military base, you mean?” Dylan asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Touché,” Tara replied.

  “I’m sure they’ll get over it in time,” Saul said. “They just have to get to know you, right, Sergeant Dean?”

  “Right,” the sergeant answered, though he didn’t sound very confident.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Dylan said. “I’m leaving as soon as I’ve helped you guys to clear out the lab.”

  “I’ll be sad to see you go,” Tara said. In truth, she didn’t want Dylan to leave. They’d become friends despite their rocky start, but she understood Dylan’s reasons. “Maybe you could bring Alex and Amy here?”

  “Maybe,” Dylan replied with a shrug. “I don’t think I’d be welcomed back, however.”

  Nobody had anything to say to that, and Saul changed the subject. “It’s getting late,”

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Sergeant Dean said. “I’ll escort Dylan to your home, and you can take the doctor to the major’s office.”

  “What about Ethan?” Dylan asked.

  “He’s working late,” Tara said, grabbing her things as they all prepared to leave.

  “Again?” Dylan complained. “I never get to see him anymore.”

  “Miss him?” Saul teased as they exited the room.

  Dylan’s cheeks flushed. “Not like that. As a friend.”

  Saul laughed, but Tara didn’t miss the way Sergeant Dean studied Dylan with a speculative look. Do I detect a lover’s triangle forming?

  They left the infirmary and crossed the grounds at a brisk walk. Already, the sun was beginning its descent, signaling the coming of night. Tara tucked her hands inside her coat. It was freezing, and she wondered if she had enough blankets on her bed to keep warm.

  Because the base was running on backup power, only the most essential buildings got electricity, such as the infirmary. The rest had to make do with candles, lamps, and gas stoves. The spotlights along the fence line got a chunk too, but she was going to suggest they switch those off at night. They’d be used only in the event of an attack. The light would only draw more infected their way, and not using them would stretch their fuel reserves.

  Tara paused when she spotted the USAMRIID building in the distance. Without meaning to, she switched direction and walked closer. Her boots crunched across the gravel walkway, and neatly trimmed bushes lined the path. Even during the apocalypse, the army still maintained rigorous attention to appearances. The others followed without protest, and they gathered a few feet away from the security perimeter.

  To Tara, her old workplace looked like it always had. Square, beige, bland, and boring. Only now, it was surrounded by barbed wire, the entrances were blocked, and a couple of soldiers stood on guard. To keep the monsters in.

  In the gathering gloom, the building exuded an air of menace, and the thought that a hundred-plus zombies roamed its hallways sent a chill down her spine. A shadow flitted past one of the windows, and she reached for Saul’s hand. He gripped her fingers with his, and she leaned against him.

  “This is it, huh?” Dylan asked. “Your old workplace? The one chock full of zombies that need killing?”

  “That’s right,” Tara confirmed.

  “It’s not going to be easy,” Sergeant Dean said.

  “No, it’s not,” Tara agreed.

  “I’d go so far as to say it’s a suicide mission,” Sergeant Dean added.

  Dylan punched him on the arm. “Don’t jinx it. We’re bulletproof, remember? Saul and I can’t get infected. Neither can you.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t get ripped into itty bitty pieces,” Sergeant Dean said. “And you’re not going in alone. I’m going with you.”

  “You are?” Tara asked. “Why?”

  Sergeant Dean shrugged. “It’s a worthy cause. One worth dying for.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Tara said, turning back to gaze at the lab. “You guys go ahead. It’s getting dark.”

  “What about you?” Dylan asked.

  “I want to stay here for a minute or two before I see the major. It will remind me what I’m fighting for,” Tara said, though in reality, she wanted a few moments alone with Saul.

  “Fair enough,” Dylan said, tugging on the sergeant’s arm. “See you in time for dinner, I hope.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Tara said, waving at their retreating backs.

  Dylan and the sergeant disappeared into the distance, and Tara glanced at Saul. “It’s just me and you again, I guess.”

  “Just like old times,” Saul agreed. He looped one arm around her waist and drew her closer to his side. “We finally made it, didn’t we?”

  Tara nodded, basking in the warmth of his body. “We did. All those months spent traveling. First in the Congo, then Pointe-Noire.”

  “Our plane getting rerouted to Marakesh in Morocco,” Saul continued. “Finally landing in the USA.”

  “In Charlotte, no less,” Tara said.

  “We were lucky to get an army escort to Fort Knox, and even luckier to get out of there alive when it was overrun,” Saul said.

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” Tara said with a snort. “It was all you.”

  “Not all me. You were pretty tough yourself,” Saul insisted. “And if it weren’t for you, I’d be a zombie today, craving brains. Not just any brains. Your deliciously clever brain.”

  He mimed chewing on her head, and Tara giggled. “Zombies don’t care about brains.”

  “This one does. Especially yours.”

  Tara smiled, enjoying his good humor. “Seriously, though. I know what got us this far.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Fate got us here,” Tara said.

  “Fate?”

  “That’s right. We were meant to be here, now, today.”

  “A scientist who believes in fate. Now there’s an oddity,” Saul mused.

  “What can I say? I’m a complex woman, and something brought us together,” Tara said.
<
br />   “Together,” Saul added, gazing down into her eyes as he pulled her ever closer.

  “Just you and me,” Tara agreed, knowing he was about to kiss her, and this time, she let him. Saving the world could wait.

  Chapter 7 - Dylan

  It was a fair distance to their new home, and Dylan stared at her feet as they walked. Sergeant Dean was still very much an unknown quantity, and she wasn’t sure what to say to him. “So, have you got a name, Sergeant?”

  “It’s Nick.”

  “Nick for Nicholas?”

  “Just Nick.”

  “Have you got any family, Nick?”

  “Used to. Not anymore,” he replied, not expanding on the topic.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. How about you?” he asked.

  “Orphan. I grew up in foster care and spent the last few years in juvie.”

  “Juvie? What for?”

  “I stabbed my foster dad with a knife. Got him right in the gut,” Dylan said with a grim smile. “He didn’t die, however. More’s the pity.”

  Nick shot her a disbelieving look but didn’t reply.

  Silence fell between them once more, and she lengthened her strides, eager to get home. It wasn’t grand as houses went: A simple three-bedroom, two-bathroom affair in a quiet cul-de-sac. It had a pretty garden, though, and a patio where you could watch the sunset over a cup of coffee. Best of all, there were no nosy neighbors to contend with. The nearest occupied house was a block away. Major Reed probably did it out of spite, but to Dylan, it was a bonus.

  Saul had added a couple of security features. Steel rods welded onto the window frames and an extra lock on all the doors. That, combined with a security fence, granted them a modicum of safety — anything to help them sleep at night.

  They’d covered most of the distance when a trio of soldiers walked past them. They greeted Sergeant Dean, but all she got was a couple of hostile stares. “Wow, I’m not winning any popularity contests, am I?”

  “Guess not,” Nick said.

  “Soldiers, huh?”