Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella

by Mary, Kate L.

  “You talkin’ to me?” Angus asked, chuckling again.

  “I am.” She nodded to the zombies, who thrashed in their cages like they were desperate to get free. “If you are Angus James, then you should be able to kill them.”

  “Sure.” Angus stepped forward and pulled out a knife. “Just take them bars off and I’ll be done with it.”

  The High Priestess raised her hand as if the simple gesture should stop anyone from moving. “You will say the words and they will die.”

  Angus let out a loud, barking laugh. “You gotta be shittin’ me. Look lady, you wanna put a statue of me in town and kneel in front of it, be my guest. But I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, I ain’t a god. Hell, I’m ‘bout as far from it as a person can be.” He shoved the knife back into its sheath.

  “So you cannot kill the zombies?” the woman asked.

  Angus grinned. “Now, I didn’t say that.”

  The High Priestess nodded, but her expression didn’t change. “Go on.”

  “If you agree to help us, and if I can get into the CDC, I’ll be able to take care of the dead once and for all.”

  “What?” Mom said from behind me.

  Angus didn’t look back, not when other people threw questions at him or when murmurs started moving through the crowd of fanatics in front of us. He kept his gaze on the High Priestess, waiting for her to give some indication that she’d finally accepted the truth of who he was.

  “You know I’m him,” Angus said when the woman still hadn’t spoken. He waved to the scars on his body, then to the ones in the crook of his arms that matched Glitter’s. “They’ve had me this whole time, up there in the CDC. They got my brother now and they’re doin’ stuff that will make the zombies you got here seem like kittens. We gotta save my brother, and then we gotta stop the CDC once and for all. And I know how.”

  “How?” the High Priestess finally asked.

  “See, there was a woman. A woman who was evil, who is now burning in hell, probably waitin’ for me to join her, but who did somethin’ right in the end. She was a lot like me, which is probably why I loved her. I always was a good for nothin’ too, but when push came to shove I chose to do right, and so did she.” He sucked in a deep breath like he was trying to control his emotions, and when he spoke again his voice was loud but there was a slight waver to it as well. “Before she died, she told me there was a failsafe. A bacteria deep in the CDC that would eat away at the brains of the dead, killin’ ‘em once and for all. If I can get back into the CDC, I can get it.”

  The High Priestess’s icy exterior cracked a little as Angus talked, and I could see the conflict in her eyes. I knew why she was hesitating. If she chose to accept what he said she’d be admitting that she’d been wrong. For years she’d been preaching that Angus James had died twenty years ago, but that one day he would be resurrected from the dead. She’d look like a liar. But she had to know that this plan, this bacteria that Angus had mentioned, was possibly the only way to bring about the rest of her prophecy: that Angus James would destroy the zombies once and for all.

  We all seemed to be holding our breath, waiting for her to make a decision. Deep in my chest my heart thudded from the possibilities of what my uncle was saying. There was a way to stop the zombies, to wipe them out so we could return to the way things had been before. To stop Jackson and his father from destroying things even more than they already had. All of this could end.

  So suddenly that it came with no warning, the High Priestess turned and faced her followers, lifting her arms above her head. “The prophecy will soon be fulfilled. Angus James is back, not from a literal death, but from a different kind. From the death of the soul. This man—” She waved to Angus without looking at him. “—has saved his soul by choosing what is good and pure. He will go back into the CDC, he will rip the walls down, and he will release a savage death on the zombies who have held us captive for more than twenty years.” She spun back to face Angus, sweeping her arms forward in the process. “Behold, your savior.”

  Behind her, every one of her followers dropped their knees at the same time and bowed their heads as the chant once again began to rise up, this time quieter, making it easier to discern the words. And as they spoke a chill ran down my spine, because I realized that if we succeeded the words would end up being more prophetic than I ever could have guessed.

  “…you have visited them with destruction and wiped out all remembrance of them…”

  Chapter Eight

  Meg

  The group from The Church hadn’t returned to New Atlanta, but our plans had been put on hold for the moment. It was prayer time.

  Apparently, they prayed every evening at six o’clock on the dot, which meant that at the moment they were kneeling in the center of town while everyone else watched. The chant that rang through the air this time was different than it had been before, but I could neither make out the words nor make myself care what they were saying.

  They’d brought a statue with them for the occasion, which my Uncle Angus was currently staring at with an amused expression on his face. It looked nothing like him, not that anyone from The Church seemed to care. The man depicted in stone was too broad in the shoulders, and his face was too serene. I’d only been around my uncle for a day, but the Angus I knew seemed to always be restless, seemed to always have a barely contained storm simmering in his eyes. He had a hard look about him, even when he and Parv sat side by side smoking, which was one of the few things that seemed to ease the storm raging inside him.

  Jim sat with them now, a cigarette between his lips as the three of them talked quietly and stared out over the praying members of The Church. There was a similar expression on all three of their faces, something that got lost between grief and bitterness and incredulity.

  Jada stood a good distance from Jim, her gaze alternating between him and the prayer vigil. She had a cigarette perched between two fingers on her right hand, her elbow hooked on her hip. Smoke rose from the smoldering stick, getting caught on the muggy breeze that swept between the houses and carried away. Jada didn’t seem to notice that the cigarette had burned down to almost nothing, almost as if she’d forgotten she was holding the thing.

  I went over to stand at her side, nodding to the group kneeling on the grass. “Is this the first time you’ve been around them?”

  She startled, and then shook her head as she brought the cigarette to her lips. She inhaled before saying, “No.” Smoke came out with the word and I batted it away. “I’m a registered zombie slayer, so I go into town every now and then.”

  I couldn’t help looking her over, imagining her going out into the wild world and taking zombies down. She was only a little bigger than me, more muscular for sure, but no more than a few inches taller and still thin. Yet she exuded a toughness I would never be able to compete with.

  “Aren’t you scared?” I asked, thinking of the one time I’d been outside the wall and how terrified I’d been.

  I’d made it back safely and had held my own, but I’d been scared shitless. And that was with a group to back me up and a good distance between the zombies and me. Jada, however, had probably had to get up close and personal with the dead on more than one occasion, and yet she continued to go out there. I didn’t get it.

  She lifted her eyebrows as she looked me over, and I felt like a child under her gaze. A sheltered, soft little girl, who had been coddled behind a wall, protected from the big, bad zombies.

  “This is all I’ve ever known.” She put the cigarette between her lips again and inhaled slowly, pulling the smoke into her lungs, but this time she was nice enough to turn her face away from me when she blew it out. “It’s normal out here. We’re pretty secure, but things happen. We have to scrounge for supplies we can’t grow or make ourselves, which means leaving the safety of the walls.” She paused and lifted her eyebrows. “You know what that’s like?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so,” s
he said, but there was no malice in her voice. “Things happen and I don’t like having to depend on others, so learning to defend myself made sense to me. So does going out there and killing the dead. I’m registered in the city, but only so I can get supplies for our town. I don’t want a thing to do with New Atlanta otherwise.”

  It did make sense, and seeing it from her perspective made it sound a lot less scary than hiding behind these walls and hoping nothing bad ever happened. Hell, I’d lived inside the city my whole life, but even my parents had taught me to shoot a gun. It was a necessity these days, especially out here.

  “That’s how you met Jim?” I asked her. “In the city?”

  “No. I met him after he left New Atlanta. He helped some of our people on the outside and came back with them. I was just a kid then, only seven.” A smile curled up her lips. “I doubt I left much of an impression on him, but I’ll never forget that day.”

  Jada’s gaze moved to where the man in question was sitting, and when she looked at him, her expression said it all. She was in love with him. Big time.

  “You’re together, right?”

  “He keeps my bed warm when he’s in town,” was her answer, although it was clear that it meant more than that to her. “Jim had a woman before, one he met after the virus. She’s dead now, been dead for a long time, but he’s still in love with her. He’ll never stop loving her. Never stop missing her.” Jada shrugged as if it was no big deal, but when pain flashed in her eyes, her expression once again gave her away.

  “He’s a lot older than you,” I said instead of calling her out on her lie.

  “Twenty years, not that it matters these days. An age gap like that probably meant something before, but now you take what you can get.”

  She was still staring at him, and I did the same, trying to see what she saw. He was tall and had shaggy hair that went down to his shoulders. It was a combination of dark blond and gray that matched his close-clipped beard. If he was twenty years older than Jada that put him in his mid-forties, but his tanned and weathered skin made him look older than he was, or at least more worn. His blue eyes softened his features though, and they also told me that he had at one time been attractive. It was obvious that to Jada he still was.

  “What happened to his woman?” I asked after a moment of silence.

  Jada glanced my way out of the corner of her eye. “Star had her killed.”

  I sat up straighter. “Why?”

  “She overheard something. Well, not overheard exactly. She was deaf, which is the only reason someone was stupid enough to spill top secret information in front of her. She could read lips though, and when Star found out what she’d overheard, he had her killed. Made it look like an accident, but by then Jim was already suspicious and he didn’t buy it. That’s when he left the city.”

  “I never heard any of this,” I whispered, shaking my head. I felt like every time I turned around I learned something new and devastating that my family had been keeping from me. I hoped the surprises would end soon.

  “They wanted to keep you safe,” Jada said, and this time there was a little malice to the words.

  Not for the first time, I found myself wondering how I looked through her eyes. They were the eyes of a hardened person. Someone who had lived outside the protective sanctuary of our new government, who’d killed zombies for a living and had the scars to prove it. There were so many peeking through the lines of her tattoos that it would have been impossible to count them all if I’d tried—not that I wanted to—but they branded her as a strong person. And her scars weren’t anywhere close to being the most noticeable scars in this settlement.

  “What about Bonnie?” I asked after a moment of silence in which Jada smoked and watched The Church going about their prayer time. “Is she your mother?”

  Jada’s eyebrows shot up. “Do we look alike?”

  I flushed because I’d already made the observation that no, they did not look alike. But then I thought of my own Mom and how she had come about the job and my back straightened. “You don’t have to share blood to be a mother. Especially these days.”

  Jada nodded, once again sucking chemicals into her lungs. The end of the cigarette flared red, burning more of the paper away and leaving ash in its wake. When she’d inhaled enough of it, she dropped it to the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of her boot.

  She turned her face away from me and blew smoke into the air before saying, “That’s true.”

  Her eyes were on me, their expression too penetrating and full of questions. I was as much of a mystery to her as she was to me.

  “Max found me after the virus. My parents had died, along with most of the rest of world, and I was alone. I was three, so I don’t remember much from before other than flashes here and there. This is the only way of life I’ve ever known.” She looked over her shoulder to the house. “Bonnie came along a few years later. She’d been attacked by a starving dog and was barely alive. Somehow she’d fought the thing off, but not before he did a lot of damage. If a group from the settlement hadn’t been out scavenging for supplies and found her, she would have died for sure. She healed, and she and Max got together. They’re the only parents I remember.”

  “My parents died too,” I told her.

  The way she arched her eyebrows made it seem like she didn’t believe me. “But you’re a James.”

  “Not by blood,” I said. “My father was killed a few days before I was born, on the way to New Atlanta, and my mom died shortly after I came into this world.” I looked across the yard to the porch where Mom and Lila sat. “This is my family now. My mom, aunts and uncles, cousins.” My gaze flicked to Luke when memories of our childhood played through my mind. “This is all I’ve ever known and it was good, at least when Star allowed it to be.” I turned back to face Jada. “I know what I must seem like to you, coddled and weak, but the CDC has destroyed a life that should have been perfect, at least as perfect as it can be in this world, and I’m not going to let them get away with it. I may not be a seasoned zombie slayer like you, but I plan to help take the CDC out or die trying.”

  Jada pressed her lips into a pout that made her even more attractive, but this time when she looked me over, the expression in her gaze was different. There was a respect that hadn’t been there before. “If you need some tips for defending yourself out there, let me know.”

  Looking at the tough woman in front of me, I couldn’t imagine a better teacher, and as soon as I figured out what was going to happen next, I planned on taking her up on the offer.

  I let out a deep breath, trying to blow out the anger my words had stirred inside me. It didn’t work. “I’ll do that.”

  Prayer time ended and we headed back into the house with the High Priestess, her daughter, and a couple other followers while the rest of their group sat patiently on the grass beside the statue of their fake god. We had to crowd into the living room, which had probably never been intended to hold this many people, but everyone was too anxious to get things settled to complain.

  The High Priestess took a seat in a red overstuffed chair. It had a few patched holes on the arms and sat at the head of the room, almost as if it had been placed there specifically for her. Sabine stood at her side, her back as straight as her mother’s and her eyes just as pale and intense, while the other members of The Church stood directly behind the two women.

  The furniture in the room was worn, and there wasn’t nearly enough to go around, meaning most of us were left standing. Angus took the couch across from the priestess with Mom and Al and Parv, and Jim stood at their side with his arms crossed. He was loaded down with weapons like he was planning on heading outside the walls, and I couldn’t help wondering if he was always this armed or if he was anticipating trouble. I didn’t think there’d been any. The Church, however creepy, was famously non-violent.

  Max had settled on the other side of the couch, leaning against the wall like he was only there to observe, and Jada stood next to Jim. Thi
s time, however, it seemed less about her desire to be close to him. She seemed to be taking the lead, this small woman who was barely older than me, but something about the authority she carried on her shoulders made her seem older and wiser. Like she’d been around much longer than anyone else in the room.

  When we’d all settled in, I found myself shoved at the back of the group with Charlie and, oddly enough, Glitter. It was the first time since I’d learned who she was that she had separated herself from her dad, and it occurred to me that she’d done the same thing outside when the High Priestess and her entourage had arrived. It made sense. The Church would never suspect that my uncle had a biological daughter, and whether or not these people offered to help, there was no way in hell he would want them to know she existed. She’d been through enough because of the James blood flowing through her veins.

  I positioned my body so I was mostly blocking her from view, and Glitter shot me a grateful smile just as Angus cleared his throat.

  “We ready to get on with this?”

  The High Priestess lifted her eyebrows like she always seemed to do before talking, and then nodded. “How can we help your cause, Angus James?”

  “We got a plan,” he began, his gaze moving to Jada, “and we need it to happen in two days.”

  The High Priestess pressed her lips together for a moment before saying, “The day of our festival.”

  “That’s right,” Angus said, grinning.

  The festival. God, how I hated the damn festival. Every year it got bigger and bigger as more people fell for the teachings of this ridiculous group, and every year it was a source of tension in my family. As a kid I’d wanted to join in, not realizing what it all meant and only seeing that people were out in the streets celebrating and having fun. Then I got older and learned what it was all about, and suddenly I understood why my parents didn’t want to dance around in the streets and celebrate, why for them it was a painful reminder of what they’d lost. It celebrated the anniversary of the day Angus James died. Or at least the day we’d thought he died since we now knew none of that had been true. Somehow, in the midst of all this craziness, I’d managed to block it out, but it was coming up, and this year was a big one. Twenty years.