by S A Ison
She had to admit, he was a stunning and impressive werewolf and he was hot. Her heart did a triple beat. She’d always sensed his animal but she’d never seen it and he’d had absolute control over it and he’d had control over hers. She wasn’t sure if she was resentful over that fact. She really did want to rip Ethan apart. Fucker. But, as her killing fog lifted, she understood why Xander wouldn’t let her go at Agent Vector. They three were all they had. There had to be some kind of loyalty and like it or not, it would seem that Ethan was a part of their pack, well, kind of. Ethan better hope like hell he was never alone with her werewolf; she wasn’t sure if she could stop the bitch and she didn’t know if she wanted to try.
Xander looked at Zahara and almost laughed. He could see that she had really wanted to go after Ethan. He really couldn’t blame her but the man had been on orders and had disobeyed the brass. That said something for the man. Zahara had been amazing and beautiful out there. He had never seen a female werewolf except for his mother and Zahara was spectacular. He could feel his animal moving within him, wanting to get out, wanting to get to Zahara. He turned and spit blood out of his mouth. His whole body was covered in blood and gore. He reached out and pulled an eyeball out of Zahara’s hair and she turned and looked at him.
“I think we need to take a shower,” he said as he passed through the sliding glass doors that opened into the hotel lobby. Ethan was standing there, his face nearly blank with shock. Xander walked to his clothing and pulled out his Glock and walked down the hall toward rooms on the first floor. He could hear Zahara padding behind him, her small feet sticky with goo and blood. He used the butt of the gun to knock on the door. Within he heard growls and snarls and walked to the next door and knocked. He heard nothing and stood back and shot the lock off the door.
“Why didn’t you just get a key card?” she asked.
“Faster, I just wanna get on the road. You…you want to join me?” he asked and he could feel the heat move up his neck and into his face. He saw the shy grin on her face and she nodded.
“You know this is leading someplace dangerous, don’t you?” she asked softly. Xander pushed the door to the room closed with his bloody foot. He towered over Zahara and he could smell the blood all over her. She was moving backward and he placed his hands gently on her shoulders and moved her toward the bathroom. He saw their reflections in the large mirror and was shocked by them. His eyes still held the remnant gold, still blazing hot. Was it lust after the kill or was it this woman before him? He’d been feeling the sexual tension between them all week, but now, it was palatable.
His heart was pounding in his ears and he could smell her, the essence of her, his senses were still heightened from the change. His animal side was urging him forward but his human side was second guessing his moves and motives.
“Don’t. Don’t waffle. You either want me or you don’t,” Zahara said, looking up into his eyes. A wolfish smile crossed his face and he drew her hard up against his body.
“Let’s get clean and then, let’s get dirty,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her. Her eyes widened and shimmered a beautiful emerald and then gold. His smile widened and he kissed her long and hard. Fighting zombies made his bloodlust skyrocket and now seeing Zahara’s wolf, that pushed him over that edge.
Ž
Reggie reached into the doorframe and grabbed his Henry Repeating rifle and took aim at the zombies across the road, wandering in the field. The crack of the rifle was satisfying, but not as much as it was when the zombies dropped from his shots.
The sounds of the shots echoed in the early morning and his targets blurred as one by one they dropped. Some he recognized as either friends or neighbors. Maybe he should set the whole place aflame? Burn the whole of Huntsville to the ground. Why not? There was nothing left except these damned zombies. He paused and reloaded his rifle, ignoring the AR-15 that was leaning against the wall. He took aim and there seemed to be even more zombies out there. He knew the sound of the rifle was drawing them in. Good, bring it on and he’d kill them all or die trying.
His eyes went to his family, drawn there by sorrow. He asked himself again, who had bitten his children? Was it a friend or a neighbor? Did it matter? His children had suffered and that pushed him towards madness. The zombies blurred once more and he wiped at his eyes with his forearm. Should he let them bite him and just become mindless? Should he just blow his brains out? End the pain. He aimed and shot another and watched as it fell. No. He would live and set the world on fire.
“Burn it all, burn them all,” Reggie said.
Ž
Bobby looked over at Avery and shook his head. They stood before the high fence of the Redstone Arsenal and all they could see were a sea of zombies.
“It’s like the whole world has turned into zombies,” Avery said, his voice filled with awe and horror. Bobby slid his eyes over to the younger man.
“You’ve a knack for the understatement, don’t you?” Bobby said and turned and spit a stream of tobacco to the ground. This was not good; at every turn his plans to set up is own little kingdom were being shot to shit. Was it him? He didn’t think so. He was a smart man, hell, he’d made millions. There had to be a safe place to hold up and wait this thing out.
“Let’s go and get you a Hummer. I’m then gonna give you a list of items we’ll need. I think we should split up and also see about recruitin’ more people. You’ve got lots of friends, don’t you? Maybe we can pick up some of your people and move this along?”
“Please Bobby, please. I don’t want to go by myself. I’ll die out there. Honest, please don’t leave me alone,” Avery turned, his face blanched of all color, his voice rising in hysteria. The bodies behind the fence became agitated and their moaning and cries grew louder as they pushed forward. Fingers pushed through the chain-link and the fence began to rattle.
“Shut the fuck up, you fool. Get in the vehicle, now. Damnit, you get those things riled up and they’ll push that fence down and be all over us like stink on shit,” Bobby snarled in a low voice and pushed the younger man between the shoulder blades. Avery nearly tripped as he ran toward the hummer. The sound of the chain-link fence rattled ominously. Bobby cursed under his breath as he looked over his shoulder and saw that the fence was coming down and thousands of the zombies would start to pour out of the base. They would be surrounded in moments.
He climbed into the Humvee, his hands shaking. Avery slammed the door shut and locked it, his eyes rolling with fear.
“You’d damned well better get yourself under control or next time I’ll leave you to get torn up,” Bobby said and turned over the engine. The low rumble of the engine was satisfying and he turned the large vehicle away but then stopped.
“Why…why are we stoppin’?” Avery asked, his head swiveling around as he watched the zombies moving and swelling like a tide.
“Keep your panties on, Mary. We’re goin’.” Bobby looked one more time at the sea of zombies. He felt the tiny hairs rise over his body. Was it even possible to stay in Huntsville? Was it worth it? Maybe he could gather up supplies and head farther out because with numbers like that, there was no way to survive this thing. He began to pull forward and felt the vehicle rock with the bodies that threw themselves against it. Avery moaned in terror and seemed to shrink in his seat. Bobby shook his head in disgust. The kid had no backbone. Maybe he should throw the kid out?
Twenty minutes later he saw a dark haze and black smoke billowing up a mile away. Something was on fire and from the haze, had been on fire for a while. Once more he thought of the idea of sticking around Huntsville. There were gas lines, propane tanks scattered about the city. Natural gas and wooden structures. This whole place could blow up, not to mention the rocket fuel that was stored there.
“Holy shit!” Avery said and pointed.
“Son of a bitch! My cars are on fire,” Bobby cried. He pulled near his dealership and saw bits of an aircraft that had plowed into his Humvees. There were curled and twisted cars s
cattered around and the earth was scorched and the acrid stink of asphalt, burning metal, and plastic permeated the air.
“What are the fuckin’ odds? Really, what are the odds?” Bobby said softly, shaking his head. His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that the joints popped.
“Screw this, let’s just go get supplies. I think maybe we should just get out of town.”
“That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” Avery said with sincerity. Bobby shot him a look and once more thought about throwing the idiot out into the street.
FOUR
Ethan paced back and forth in the lobby, checking his watch. He was sweating as he watched more of the creatures fill the parking lot. This was insane, the werewolves had slaughtered every moving thing out there and yet more came. They needed to get the hell out of this city. At least out on the highway, there would be less of the things, at least he hoped so. The stench of the bodies and bowels outside was nearly overwhelming. Both of the agents had looked like they’d bathed in blood and had enjoyed it. Enjoyed it! He thought that he might be going insane because this whole mess was screwing with his head.
He tried to remember when things started going sideways. He remembered leaving San Diego and heading east to look for Agent Zed. Were the first indications of flight cancelations the beginning of the end? He’d heard about the virus but he’d not really thought anything about it. There was always shit in the news. When he’d been pulled off his original assignment and sent to Las Vegas, O’Donnell never said a word about the virus or zombies or anything. Had he known? When he’d left Vegas, things were starting to get weird. He’d seen people stumbling around but he’d not thought anything about it. Drunks and Vegas went hand in hand. He’d moved on and headed across country and as he got near Washington, he’d been told to head to Huntsville. Once more he wondered if O’Donnell knew something but had said nothing about the virus and zombies. Did the President know? Was he even now sequestered someplace safe while the rest of the country burned?
“Fucking werewolves and zombies. This shit just isn’t real,” he muttered to himself.
“Oh, it’s real, brother. Make no mistake,” Xander said walking toward him with nothing but a towel around his hips. His blond hair was spiking up from the shower and his black beard glistened with water. At least it wasn’t blood or intestines. Xander leaned his long frame over and scooped up his clothing and then picked up Zahara’s clothes. Ethan looked past Xander but didn’t see the woman.
“Was she coming after me?” Ethan asked quietly. He remembered the bloody golden eyes of Zahara as she zeroed in on him after the fight. He’d felt the tingling in his tailbone, that antediluvian throwback of survival. If Xander hadn’t bit her neck and stopped her, Ethan was fairly sure he’d have been torn apart. Did they even think like humans when they were in that form?
“She’d have killed you and not even thought about it. When our bloodlust is up, it is difficult to stop. When it’s that kind of slaughter, well...” Xander nodded out to the piles of bodies.
Ethan felt fresh sweat pop out on his forehead and wiped at it.
“Do you think either of you will be infected? You had a hell of a lot of infected blood all over you.”
“I don’t know, I feel pretty good. I got a few bites but those are already healing,” Xander said and turned and bent to show his shoulder. There were bites and scratches, black but it appeared as though they were old wounds instead of fresh. He grunted and shook his head. It was implausible and quite remarkable. Yet he’d seen them change with his own eyes. Smelled them, a combination of wet dog and earth.
“Maybe you should turn me into a werewolf,” Ethan said, trying the thought on for size. He stepped back when Xander’s eyes went gold and glowing with speculation.
“Honestly, I don’t know if I could turn you. I was born this way. So was Zahara. If push comes to shove, I’ll try. I can’t say that you’ll turn or even live. That shit is in the movies. But I guess if it was a choice between being a werewolf and a zombie, I’d choose werewolf,” Xander said and grinned, his canines grew long and sharp. He turned and walked back to the room, humming. Just when he got to the door, Ethan heard Zahara’s giggle. He shook his head. Fucking werewolves.
Ž
Reggie stood before his house, a conflagration of thick smoke and popping flames. The relentless drone of cicadas buzzed through his head like a heartbeat. The tears that fell from his eyes never made it to his cheeks as they dried from the intense heat washing over his body. He hoped at some point he would just explode in flames so he could join his family. He was a coward and he knew it. He couldn’t just end it. A wretched sob ripped from him and he fell back, moving like an automaton and made his way to his Jeep.
“You have sinned and you’re reaping what you sowed. God is punishing me, I know He is,” he whispered brokenly as he climbed into the midnight blue, Jeep Gladiator. He’d salvaged what he could and had packed it into the vehicle. A handful of photographs, water, food and his guns and ammunition. He was going on a killing spree and he’d take down anything and everything he came across and he would burn as he went. He would set the world on fire and maybe he would die and be at peace. In the bed of the truck were cans of fuel, he’d need those to set the cars, buildings and people ablaze. He headed west, searching the emptiness around him. Why had he been away from home? Why hadn’t he been there to protect his family? Those were questions that would haunt him for the rest of his life. If he’d have been home, he could have saved his babies. He could have defended his home. Who had brought this plague into his home? Was it the Klan? Was it his neighbors? Was it a stranger? The same questions kept revolving around his brain.
Reggie knew he’d never know the answers and it would trouble him until he laid down in the dust to die. He smoothed back his damp, red hair. The windows were down but the air was warm streaming into the vehicle. The prevailing wind brought the stench of rotting bodies. He pulled onto Highway 72 West. Around him were empty vehicles along the road. He slowed down and looked into the windows. He saw movement in one and pulled over. Getting out, he walked to the SUV and peered in. There were children moving and shifting over the seats. They were zombie children and his heart broke once more, thinking of Jeb and Hunter.
The heat of the Alabama sun had nearly cooked the zombies inside the SUV. He walked back to his truck and grabbed a can of fuel. He sloshed it over the top of the SUV and walked around several other vehicles. Walking back to the SUV he looked in again.
“I’ll send you babies to heaven, you’ll not hurt anymore,” he said softly and pulled out a lighter. He walked forward and squatted down and lit the puddle of fuel on the ground. The invisible flame licked along the ground and then orange flames moved up the SUV. The fire spread all over the SUV as black smoke filled the air. The fire moved onto the next vehicle and Reggie got back into his Jeep and pulled away. He heard the roar of the fire, well caught now. Then he heard an explosion behind him but he didn’t look. His mouth thinned out into a hard line.
He drove slowly and noticed a group of staggering corpses in a field and slowed down. He picked up his AR-15 from the passenger’s seat and stopped. Peering through the optics, he stroked the trigger and felt the slight recoil. The shell pinged off the dash and the walking dead walked no more. Onto the next and the next and a baker’s dozen were put down. He saw more of the creatures wandering out of the tree line and got out and grabbed the gas can. He walked along the edge of the road and soaked the ground in a twenty-foot swath. Going back to the Jeep he grabbed his cigarette and took one last drag and then flicked the butt to the gas-soaked grass. A soft whoosh and the fire began to eat up ground.
Reggie moved along, stopping periodically to set his world ablaze and kill what he could. Turning onto Dug Hill Road, he moved slowly, looking at the small homes and communities. This was also farming land as well and there were fields, deep green and they moved gently in the wind. Ahead, he noticed another child staggering along t
he road. It was a little black girl, he thought maybe about Jeb’s age, seven. He pulled his Beretta APX from his waist holster; he would just shoot her in the head as he past. He wasn’t sure if he could just set her little body on fire right now. He swallowed hard. She was lurching along, one shoe on with pink socks. Her legs and arms were thin with knobby joints. Half her head was braided neatly while the other half was pulled out wild and long, as though that part of her head was blown out.
“You’re doin’ that mite a favor,” he convinced himself. The Redmond Klavern had always joked about eradicating the lesser races but killing children was something he’d never thought about. You just didn’t hurt children. When he’d set the SUV ablaze, those creatures were half rotted out. They didn’t look like children, just miniature zombies. This little girl was a zombie, but she was more than likely recently turned. As he drew up near her, he slowed down and aimed his pistol at her head. She turned and looked up at him with large luminous golden eyes, the color of warm honey and his hand jerked back. Her face was dirty with tear tracks running down but this little girl was human and not a zombie.
Her face didn’t register him, she was in shock. He well understood that feeling.
“Baby, where’s your momma?”
The little girl stopped and looked around her, as though trying to find her mother in a crowd.
