Zombie Warfare: Impact Series - Book 3

by Craig Halloran

  “You people are sick,” Don said. He jumped up and dashed for the first exit he could see.

  Nate jammed his foot into the ground to trip Don. It exploded like fire.

  “Agh!”

  “I got this,” Ashley said, pulling a black box off her belt clip and pressing the button.

  Don lurched up, arms wide, and crashed face first into the floor.

  “Idiot.”

  CHAPTER 14

  -Arizona-

  Location Unknown

  Chad closed his eyes. Made his peace with God. Muttered the Serenity Prayer his mother taught him as a boy. At least what he remembered.

  “I’ll be,” the soldier with the Australian accent said.

  Chad opened his eyes.

  The gritty man’s eyes narrowed on his smartphone screen. He lifted the barrel of his gun along his shoulder. Stood back up.

  “What?” Chad croaked.

  “What is it?” the other soldier said. He walked over to look at the screen over his comrade’s shoulder.

  The first soldier shoved him backward.

  “Booger off.” The soldier shook his head. “Well, Yank, I just don’t think it’s your day today. My orders are not what I expected. Tsk. Not at all.” He squatted back down. “I bet you have family, don’t you?”

  “What’s it to you, Abbo?”

  “Eh … not friendly I see. Well, can’t say I blame you.” He reached over and grabbed his canteen. Slid Chad’s knife in his belt. “So long now.”

  “We’re just leaving him here?” the other soldier said.

  “Come on. Orders are orders and I need a cold one.”

  Both men walked away until their shadows disappeared behind the rocks. Their footsteps grew faint. A group of voices were talking and car doors slammed shut. An engine fired. Rubber rolled over the rocks until only the sound of the breeze in the cracks of the rocks remained.

  Chad’s watch read 4:15pm. He wondered how much longer he had. Minutes? Seconds? Hours? He crawled out of the shade. Stood up. Limped over to the dead zombies. Fought the pain of every step. He wanted to live. He kicked a zombie corpse in the head.

  “Damn dirty creepers!”

  He stomped on its back. Again. Again. And again. Drove his steel-toed boots into its ribs.

  “I’m not dying like this!” he croaked. His throat was parched. “I won’t be some undead devil!” He kicked it again.

  A dark spot flickered in the sky. A drone hovered in the sunlight, twenty feet away and above his head. He grabbed a rock and chucked it.

  “Argh,” he said. He bit his lip and held his sides. “Bastards are watching this still. Sick freaks. I won’t give them the satisfaction.” He fought the pain. Picked up his knees and started running. Maybe he’d get lucky. Maybe a Sidewinder or Rattlesnake would bite him. Maybe he’d fall and break his neck. Maybe he’d have a heart attack. Worst case, he hoped he would die from dehydration.

  On he went. A hundred yards. Then two. A quarter mile. Behind him the drone hovered, but he didn’t look back. He thought of his wife, Monica. His sons. His Mother. Father. Friends. It ached that he’d never see them again. It angered him they’d never know what happened to him.

  He puffed for breath. His heart was fire in his chest.

  Keep running. Keep running. What am I doing? Killing yourself. Not right. Do it. Don’t do it.

  His legs were leaden after a mile. Bad cramps set in shortly after.

  God, I don’t know what to do.

  On he went, one heavy step after the other. His joints ached. Stiffened. His vision blurred. Darkened. The white sunlight turned gray.

  What’s happening?

  Pins and needles pushed from the inside and out all over is body. He wanted to scream. Nothing came out. No sound. Pain. Motion. Agony. The world shook before him. Dark spots burst in his eyes. He moved. He didn’t know how, where or why. There was nothing but a gray landscape bouncing before his eyes.

  Who?

  ***

  “Looks like this mission’s over, Cowboy.” Rancho said.

  Charles stood, hands pressed on the table, peering at the screen. The man, Chad, had run for a few minutes, only to slow into a staggering zombie trot.

  “That’s different,” he muttered, drumming his pasty fingers on the table.

  “What’s that?” Rancho said.

  “You ever seen a zombie move like that?”

  “No, why?”

  Charles felt a little flutter behind the walls of his big belly. The Zombie Soldiers had been injected with a new version of the XT Serum. It was modified in hopes of giving the Zombie Soldiers more human-like responses. The older serum sped them up and quickened their reflexes, but the newer version had more promise. It just hadn’t been tested much yet. And when it was, there were side effects.

  “Just keep an eye on this one. I have other matters to attend to.” He dusted the popcorn dust off his fingers. Grabbed some paper towels and finished it up. Chad, the zombie, was making a staggered line through the sand. “Just don’t lose him.”

  “How long? He’ll walk for days.”

  Charles glanced at his watch.

  “A few hours at least. If things look good, we’ll pick him up and freeze him.”

  “The drones don’t have enough juice to follow him that long.” Rancho’s voice sounded irritated.

  “Just—” Charles started, glanced at the screen. The zombie dropped to its knees. Crashed face first into the dirt. It twitched. Lurched. Moved no more. “Never mind. Let the carrion have him. He’s gone.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “We done here, Cowboy?”

  “We are.”

  “Alright, we’re bringing the vultures back in. Rancho out.”

  The audio went silent. The fan rattled and Steve made raspy sounds with his breath behind him. Charles watched the image of the painted desert and the man turned zombie fade away.

  “Damn.”

  The modified XT Formula had been tested on several subjects, but it never turned out. It didn’t even turn the people into zombies. They just wound up dead. He walked by Steve and patted him on the cheek.

  “I’m not giving that one to you, Big Fella. Not until I know it works right.”

  “Numma.”

  “You really should try some new words. Hmm.” Charles picked up a TV remote that sat on a nearby table and turned it on. He wheeled Steve around on his metal gurney to face it.

  “Might as well give it another go.”

  An episode of Baby Einstein came on. The classic music sprinkled the metal room with life. Little pig puppets were sliding down into the mud.

  Steve jogged his head and jaw a little. His mouth was all grey teeth.

  “Numma numma.”

  “Are you smiling, Steve? You like that one, don’t you?”

  Charles proceeded towards the back of another refrigerator. The doors were glass. The racks were filled with vials and colorful liquids. He slid one open. Grabbed a large beaker marked XT10. He swirled the light blue liquid around.

  “Can’t have any mix-ups,” he said. Made his way over to the sink and poured it out. He spent the next several minutes motoring around the lab, destroying old XT10 notes and securing the rest. He emailed. Texted. Notified the only lab he’d sent the XT10 to in Arizona. XT10 bad. Destroy at once. Sweating, he took a seat by the fan. Listened to a little Mozart with Steve and closed his eyes. Dozed off.

  Brrnnng! Brrnnng!

  Charles jolted in his seat. Wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The ringing that woke him was so loud.

  Brrnng! Brrnng!

  His iPhone rattled on the console on the other side of the room. He got up out of his seat with a groan. Held his lower back and shuffled over.

  “Oooh,” he sighed. “I really should exercise.”

  Brrnng! Brrnng!

  “I’m coming,” he said. He banged his thigh on the corner of a gurney table. “Ow!”

  Steve gaped at
him.

  “What are you looking at?” Charles said, hobbling.

  Brrnng!

  The phone fell silent just as he snatched it up. Missed Call, it read. The number was listed as unknown. He checked the time.

  “Seriously! I’ve been out two hours.”

  A text popped up.

  New Entrants Ready. Facility 105. Login ASAP.

  Charles licked his teeth and rubbed his hands together. A crooked smile crossed his lips.

  “I’ve been waiting for this.”

  CHAPTER 15

  -Morgantown, WV-

  There were dozens, maybe hundreds of zombies sauntering around the abandoned mall. Each and every one had on new clothes. Shoes. Hat. Even handbags and back packs. The Day Care was one thing. This was another. A herd. Herds of dead people bumping into clothes racks, counters and knee high walls. They passed in and out of storefronts.

  Not so much different than the mall used to be, Henry thought. He huffed a disappointed laugh.

  “Nice,” Rudy said. He stuffed a quarter in a candy machine. Twisted the handle. A large orange Sweet Tart ball fell out. He stuffed it in his mouth. “I haven’t had one of these in years. I used to love these.” He stuffed another quarter in. Grinned.

  The black haired tour guide who had introduced herself as Jo Ann rolled her eyes.

  “Come on, please,” she said. “We have places to go.”

  Rudy stuffed the other Sweet Tart ball inside his other cheek.

  “You’re kinda mean, aren’t you?”

  “Depends on who you are.” She offered a quick smile and walked on. “Come on.”

  Tori held Henry’s hand, squeezing it tight. He could see a deep crease between her eyes.

  “It’ll be alright,” he said.

  She just shook her head. Her eyes were everywhere.

  “They almost seem like real people. But that smell,” she said. “Zombie flesh. Can’t ever get used to that.”

  The tall blonde with long frizzy hair turned. Jo Ann had introduced her earlier as Karen.

  “I know, I know. They tried spraying them with perfume and cologne, but that just made it worse.” She tossed her hair. “Then the place really reeked. Blak!”

  “So,” Henry said, “how long have you guys been doing this?”

  “We came on about this same time a couple of years ago,” Karen said. “Not exactly what I had in mind for my career path, but things changed.”

  “We know how that goes.”

  “Henry,” Tori said, hugging his arm. “Look.”

  Over a dozen zombies were coming straight for them. Some spoke. Num num. Others were silent. Jo Ann stepped in front of them, saying, “Just keep going. Don’t let them shove you around. Think of them as Christmas shoppers, or Black Friday ones.”

  The hairs on Henry’s neck rose. Their faces were haunting. Their jaws clicked and clacked.

  “They sometimes move in herds. Not sure why, but they do,” Jo Ann said, once they passed. “But, I’m not a scientist. I’m just a highly paid zombie social worker.” She smiled.

  “Is it worth it? Being around dead people all day long?” Tori asked.

  Jo Ann shrugged.

  “I used to work for the state. At least these zombies have some character.”

  Karen chuckled.

  Henry didn’t know about that, but many of them did seem awfully real. Living that is. Walking by the store fronts he caught glimpses of movement behind the clothes racks. Some of them seemed too quick. Others stood still as mannequins. Maybe they were. There was a Build-A-Bear. Zombies stuffed baubles and stuffing into their mouths. A book store with books all over the floor. Henry cocked an eyebrow. A zombie held a book open in front of its eyes. A second later it dropped it.

  “Did you see that?” he said to Tori.

  She gave her head a quick shake no.

  Rudy jogged up beside Jo Ann.

  “Uh, what are you doing?” she said.

  “Easy now,” he said. “I don’t bite.”

  “You kinda look like you do, with the furry face and all. Like that Muppet, Animal. Uglier and fatter though.” She looked at his shirt. Shook her head. “They’ve got to make me a recruiter.”

  “Sheesh,” Rudy said. “I’m not that bad. Cut me some slack. We’re going to be working together, after all.”

  Jo Ann stepped on the other side of Karen.

  Rudy walked backward in front of both of them.

  “Well, are we going to be doing what you guys are doing?”

  “We don’t know,” Karen said. “And, we don’t care.”

  “Watch out, Rudy,” Henry said.

  Another herd of zombies was coming. Num. Num. They shuffled. Staggered. Grunted.

  “How do you keep track of all of them to feed them?” Henry asked. He pressed through them. “There’s so many.”

  “Ah,” Jo Ann poked her finger up. “Glad you asked, and good question.” She pointed at the walls and ceiling. “First off, there are cameras everywhere. If a zombie gets fidgeting we know how to feed them. Second, they all have trackers.”

  Henry looked up. He saw the cameras, all right. He also saw black sky and rain pelting on a lone pane of exposed glass, way up high.

  Jo Ann and Karen veered from the mall’s main hallway into another concourse. Henry heard the familiar sound of water trickling. A large fountain waited at the end of the hall. A waterfall of green liquid burbled over the stones. Six zombies knelt over the fountain’s ledge, sucking on strange tubes.

  Jo Ann took a seat on the wall alongside one of the zombies. Crossed her legs.

  “This fountain’s always full. The falls attract the zombies and stir the smell. Draws them here when they hunger. The tubes stay filled. I don’t know how that works.” She rapped on the Plexiglas that covered the surface of the fountain. “And this keeps the zombies from swimming in it and getting all sticky. It works great. No glitches the whole time I’ve been here.”

  “Wow,” Rudy said. We walked over to one of the tubes that was higher along the wall. “Can I take a drink?”

  “You really are a moron,” Jo Ann said. She got up. “Alright, let’s go.”

  Henry and Tori looked at each other. Shook their heads.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he said.

  “Yes,” she sneered, “the ridiculousness never ends.”

  “Oh, looky there,” Karen said. “Looks like the zombie herd is hungry.”

  Henry stopped. There must have been twenty of them coming their way. Jaws snapped and popped.

  Num. Num. Num. Num. Num.

  “Wait a minute,” Henry said, pulling Tori aside. “If they’re hungry, won’t they bite?”

  “Two hundred and twenty days without an incident,” Jo Ann said. “Better step aside. But probably only one of them is hungry. Herd mentality, remember. It actually makes our job easier.”

  Henry and Tori pressed along the columns between stores. Rudy did the same on the other side, while Jo Ann and Karen stood among the throng, having a normal conversation.

  “I don’t know about this, Henry,” Tori said. “Seems too risky.”

  “I know—”

  Jo Ann and Karen screamed.

  Zombies had a hold of both of them.

  Tori’s scream followed. It was blood curdling.

  CHAPTER 16

  -Washington, D.C.-

  “You can’t stop them,” Don said. He held a pack of ice over his eye. “You don’t want this.”

  Walker poked him in the chest.

  “You said you’d talk, so talk, Bub.”

  Don took a long swallow. His eye was blinking around, following Louie.

  The zombie boy teetered in a chair that Ashley had harnessed him to nearby. She was glaring at Don.

  “Be glad you didn’t hurt him,” she said.

  Don looked at Nate.

  “She’s kidding, right?”

  Nate shook his head no.

  “How did …
where did you get him?” Don said.

  It was a good question. Things had been happening so fast over the past few weeks, Nate hadn’t even bothered to ask. He’d been doing his best to accept things the way they were, seeing how the life he’d formally known didn’t exist anymore.

  “He’s from one of the Day Cares. The one where they tested the XT Formula, remember?”

  “In Guthrie?” Don said.

  “That’s the one.” Walker fired up a smoke. “I found a lot of helpful notes in there. A lot of notes the WHS didn’t get a hold of.”

  Don’s brows lifted.

  Nate’s chair groaned when he took a seat. Something was eating at him. Guthrie sounded familiar. It was important. He was sharp. Bright. An effortless straight A student. But lately things had been so nuts he didn’t have his focus. He should know this. Simple trivia. Everything he heard was trivia to him. The problem wasn’t in what he heard, but in what he didn’t hear. The WHS. The Magnificent Twelve. They kept things from him. He hadn’t let that bother him back then though. He hadn’t wanted to know. He should have paid more attention.

  Don switched the pack of ice from his black eye to the bruise on his chin.

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know what you learned.”

  Oliver kicked the back of Don’s chair.

  “Out with it, Don,” he said. “You play too much chess with the lips. That always irked me. You’re little battle of wits. Let’s just stick him back in the trailer.”

  “No, no, Geez, Oliver. Don’t be so sensitive.” Don stretched his neck. Tugged the collar with his finger, eyeing Ashley. “Can we take this thing off at least? I’m in. You guys win. My word, I’m in.”

  There was something in the way Don said it that tickled Nate’s ears. He leaned forward.

  “What do you mean, You’re in?”

  “Anthony Ravenloft,” Don started. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. Huh. Well, He’s secure. He has his guards. But he can take care of himself too. A fighter. Seen him do it before. Quick and strong. I’m not for sure, but I think he used to be Special Forces or something.”

  Oliver kicked his chair.

  “Quit bullshitting, Don.”

  “Well, he could be.”

  Walker held his cigarette under Don’s eye.

  “You’re beginning to annoy me.”

  Don drummed his feet on the floor.

  “Well, I’m sorry, but being honest doesn’t come easy for me. I’m a liar. That’s how I live. That’s how I survive.”

  Zap!