The Undead Survivor Series (Book 2): Undead and the City

by Radke, K. E.

  The stomach stretched in every direction from the baby’s strength. Tiny hands and feet were visible shifting beneath the skin. Fingers and toes slowly rippled across her midsection trying to find a way out.

  Tiny legs suddenly kicked with a vengeance and made her sway into a wall. Every limb grotesquely stretched inside her stomach to unbearable lengths.

  “I can see why you don’t want to shoot her,” Jule whispered in a terrified voice. “But if you don’t, we will die.”

  “That’s a fucking baby!” Lincoln whispered back. Every step the woman took toward them, he retreated, and kept Jule behind him. He easily shot man-eating adults and never questioned the deed. But he couldn’t help wondering if the baby was somehow still human—a survivor against all odds.

  “But the baby is—I mean she’s—you don’t think—,” Jule never finished the sentence. A face stretched against the chomper’s stomach and contorted the thin barrier.

  Mid-step in the hall, the pregnant ghoul suddenly stopped and screeched at the top of her lungs. Her gaunt face twisted in agony and her hands immediately landed on her giant, round stomach. Instead of rubbing it lovingly, she clawed at the massive form protruding from her. Shrieks pierced Lincoln’s ears and his hands fled to cover them. He winced at the agony in front of him, she sounded like she was being slaughtered from the inside.

  Lincoln plastered himself against the wall sweating profusely. His eyes roamed from her stomach to the fountain of blood splashing from between her legs. The red liquid flooded the corridor, and Lincoln swayed on his feet.

  Jule screamed in his ear, “Give me the gun. If you won’t shoot her, I’ll do it! I’m not dying by a mutant baby bite!”

  The head sprouted between her legs and the woman fell to her knees still ripping at her own skin. She tore a hole in her stomach and slashed at it with ferocity. Each vicious scrape of her nails forced the flesh open until she ripped her own stomach apart. The baby’s body fell forward, its head still stuck between her legs.

  “That ain’t right,” Lincoln gasped nauseously and dry heaved. Dizzy and feeling physically sick, he hunched over and leaned on his knees. The pack on his back felt heavier and he almost fell sideways from the weight. He caught himself on the wall and lifted his eyes to the new mother screaming and pulling the slick baby’s body through her own torn flesh. The legs kicked and she lost her grasp. The determined little thing hissed and grunted upside down between her legs.

  The birthing flesh eater swayed like she was in a trance as the baby was released with a flood of blood on the floor—hitting the tile head first.

  A screeching battle cry echoed off the walls and the red eyed parasite quickly leaped over the birthing chomper.

  Horrified screams shattered Lincoln’s haze from watching a newborn baby being birthed for the first time in his life. He gazed up and the shrieking banshee headed straight for them. Adrenaline had Lincoln up on his feet in an instant, but before he lined up his shot, she tackled him.

  Landing lopsided on the ground due to his pack, the scarlet eyes glowed above him as she straddled him and wrap her hands around his head. She didn’t try to sink her teeth into his uncovered flesh. He anticipated her every move and didn’t defend himself from the iron grip around his head. The Glock 17 appeared beneath her chin and Lincoln pulled the trigger, watching her brains blow out the top of her head like a volcano. His arms automatically covered his face from the torrent of blood and brain matter that fell upon him.

  He lay there breathing raggedly for a few seconds until he remembered Jule. Crouched in a ball against the wall, she shook with fear and covered her face to protect herself from what she thought was inevitable.

  On her side with newfound energy after giving birth, the brand-new mother from hell snapped her jaws and reached for Jule. Lincoln scrambled on his hands and knees and pushed Jule forward. She screamed at the top of her lungs lashing out at Lincoln’s firm shove. Mistaking him for the flesh eater.

  “Move now!” Lincoln shouted ignoring the new claw marks on his skin. Hearing his voice, Jule peeked out from under her arm and he watched her face light up with hope. She crawled and clung to the far wall just barely out of the parasite’s reach.

  Lincoln leaned against the wall and forced himself to get up. One step at a time he tried to close the increasing distance between him and Jule. She moved quickly, passing the flesh eater, who refused to give up and was slowly pursuing her.

  In his peripheral vision Lincoln caught a glimpse of something cross the hallway toward Jule. She stopped in her tracks and retreated straight into mother ghoul’s path. Lincoln breathed out a weak warning that she didn’t hear.

  He watched the chomper’s fingers brush against her wrist. Jule screamed as soon as the grey hand clamped around her. She couldn’t pick a direction and flattened herself against the wall terrified.

  The gray intestines infested with crawling black lines slid across the floor in front of him. He stepped on it to keep the ghoul stationary and felt the organ squish underfoot. The parasite still slid forward, and Lincoln dropped to his knees. His fingers wrapped around the disgusting slimy innards and yanked as hard as he could.

  A pile of organs plopped on the ground right in her path. Thick red liquid leaked onto the floor and her hands and feet slipped every time she tried to pull herself forward.

  “Move Jule!” Lincoln yelled and pulled a knife from its sheath. He crawled the last few feet through the blood. The parasite turned toward her new meal, the rotten breath blew in his face with hisses and grunts. He stared into the gray, filmy eyes finally averted to him, and stuck his knife between them.

  Jule shoved herself against Lincoln and grabbed at his clothes. She hid her face against his chest and he automatically placed a protective arm around her.

  “Did she bite—what the fuck,” Lincoln rasped out. An oblong shape rolled through the blood straight for them. Fumbling over the ghoul, Lincoln pulled Jule along with him and used the dead body as a barrier.

  Wrapped in red liquid the thing bumped against the chomper several times before it twisted enough for Lincoln to see its face. Gurgling with shallow breaths, the tiny legs kicked out and Lincoln stared, retreating a few more inches unable to look away.

  The left side of its head had a flat spot from when it dropped on the ground and its eyes were black. A strangled scream was mimicked every time it opened its mouth without actually making a sound.

  “Is that—,” Lincoln gulped in shock unable to finish his sentence.

  Jule nodded in his chest.

  Too exhausted to feel awkward because Jule managed to climb on top of him like a scared child clinging to their father, Lincoln whispered, “I’m ready to get out of here.” He tapped her arm incapable of moving until she did.

  Realizing she was curled into his body, she suddenly released his shirt and threw herself to the far wall embarrassed of her frightened reaction. Lincoln nudged the baby to the opposite side of the hall after they hop over the chomper and used the body as a barrier. He couldn’t bring himself to kill it.

  Jule kept her distance and used the wall instead of Lincoln when he signaled to tread forward. The end of the corridor automatically turned right, and he peered around it. He whistled in the dark and tried to lure anything out of hiding.

  “If anything is back there don’t you think it would have shown up already,” Jule pointed out the obvious, the sarcasm back in her voice.

  “Two mothers. One baby,” Lincoln answered illuminating the tile. “Either way it shouldn’t have any teeth. It can’t spread the virus without teeth.”

  Stepping into the next area, Lincoln assumed it was the nurse’s station. The round desk and cabinets were disheveled but nowhere near the fiasco he came across in the lobby.

  Jule maneuvered around the dark room and stood as close as she could get to Lincoln without touching him. He followed her lead to the exit, and she whispered, “The cafeteria and kitchen are straight ahead.” She pointed out the tiny window in
the door and allowed Lincoln to get a glimpse of the corridor.

  Bodies were piled at least three feet high near the entrance to the cafeteria. None were moving, or looked in their direction, but Lincoln knew they could be lying motionless waiting for a meal to come to them. The hall was eerily empty, but someone was trying to keep the chompers, or people out.

  “If we knock down that wall, anything chasing us—,” Lincoln began.

  Jule interrupted, “Do you have an extra knife?”

  “Normally I’d ignore that question,” Lincoln said in a hushed tone releasing his pack. He wiped his hands the best he could before rummaging through it. “So today is your lucky day.”

  “Why? Because I’m a girl,” she scoffed.

  “Nope. Because I don’t want to be stabbed in the back. But I’m hoping, I proved I’m worth keeping around,” Lincoln said avoiding eye contact and handed her a sheathed knife.

  She clipped it to her pants and admitted in a low, vulnerable tone, “I’m tired of being scared all the time.” Her eyes stared straight ahead at the pile of bodies but Lincoln could tell by her tone she was lost in a memory. In that moment she finally allowed the terrified child inside of her to break through the raw, emotional layer that hid beneath the sarcastic remarks and attitude.

  “I’m tired of people trying to eat me,” Lincoln told her and interrupted whatever memory she was reliving. He placed his pack back in place while she hid a smile behind her hand. “But I have a feeling that’s not going to stop anytime soon.”

  He held out his arm and she latched onto him. She opened the door and they slipped out into the corridor checking the intersection. The rotten stench punched Lincoln in the face and his eyes watered. Enclosed in the hall, he tried to stop himself from gagging. Jule heaved several times but spewed nothing.

  They heard the grunts and hisses echo around them, but nothing showed up on either side. Racing to the wall of bodies, Lincoln stopped and held Jule tightly to his side before she tried to climb over it.

  He silently pointed to one of the heads and they watched it slowly snap its teeth like it lacked the energy to go any faster. All the ghouls piled up were missing hands and feet. Some were missing their bottom jaws and others were clearly dead from a wound to the head. Jule stuck her knife in the closest moving head and ripped it out repeating the process on every head within reach. Not seeing a faster option, Lincoln followed her lead.

  Jule hopped up first, her weight causing several bodies to slip from the pile. Her hand crushed open a chest cavity and bones snapped beneath the pressure. Elbow deep in blood and decaying tissue she finally vomited the only meal she ate in the last couple of days. She stabbed a few more heads near the back of the pile before finally tumbling forward and landed hard on her shoulder. Hitting solid ground, she took a deep breath through her mouth and rolled away from the wall of bodies.

  Not taking any chances, Lincoln stabbed every head in sight before he launched himself over the pile and scrambled away from the heap of ghouls. His heart pounded in his chest and he placed himself against the wall so nothing could creep up on him. Tightening his grip on the Glock, he nodded at Jule when they made eye contact.

  On their feet they moved forward with only the flashlight illuminating their path through the open entryway. Lincoln saw tables and chairs dispersed across the ground. Similar to the other areas, it looked like a tornado erupted, destroying everything in its path.

  The metal counters that kept the public and kitchen areas separated were dented and splattered with fluids, but they had endured the chaos. Cash registers were dismantled on the ground. Blood was thick in certain areas but not staining every surface.

  A light suddenly blasted Lincoln and Jule in the face. He felt Jule jerked from his side and turned to find her trying to get his eyes to adjust. His Glock aimed as it swung from side to side anxiously seeking a target.

  SEVENTEEN

  E verywhere he stepped the bright light was relentless until he heard a whistle and the beam was pointed upward, giving the massive area a soft glow.

  “We don’t take kindly to visitors anymore,” a voice with a southern accent said lazily. “But imagine our surprise when we realized you two were alive and well. Shawny-boy said we should greet you properly but there’s just no trust these days.”

  Lincoln’s eyes finally adjusted to the room and he swallowed the growl ready to burst from his mouth. The man had Jule with a knife against her neck, and she turned back into the pissy teenager from earlier.

  Taking a gander around the room, Lincoln noticed two other men. One maneuvering the giant light and the other watching everyone from a safe distance behind the metal counters. None of them were aiming at him. The only weapon visible was the kitchen knife pressed against Jule’s neck.

  “He’s speechless by our greeting boys!” the one in front of him shouted lowly. “You can just toss your gun and bag over here and then you can have her back.” A toothless grin spread across his face and he caressed her neck with the knife.

  Lincoln burst out laughing. “You think I’m just going to give you everything I have?”

  “The lady doesn’t feel like dying today but she will if you don’t give me what I want,” the man said losing the friendly tone he started with.

  “I’m going to save us a lot of time and tell you what’s going to happen in the next few minutes,” Lincoln said in an icy tone.

  The leader whistled lowly in disagreement, “Regular ole’ psychic Mr. Cleo we come across boys.” His grip tightened around Jule’s waist, a futile attempt to hide behind her slim body.

  “First, let her go. Because if you kill her I’m taking out your legs and throwing you out there with the cannibals as a distraction while I escape. They like it when dinner screams. Two, someone is going to help me load up food. And three, why haven’t you let her go yet?” Lincoln’s voice rumbled with impatience.

  “Because I have your little girl, so I have all the power. You do what I say. Not the other way around.”

  “Are you blind? Do I have fucking black hair? I’m a white male, and she’s darker than me. I just met her outside, she said if I killed you three I could have all the food I wanted.”

  A suppressed shot echoed through the room and Lincoln ducked automatically before he snarled and lunged for Jule. Her captor’s head slammed backward as a bullet hole appeared and his grip slackened. Collapsing on her knees, Lincoln stood in front Jule like a guard dog trying to locate the shooter.

  “Don’t move,” Lincoln commanded quietly.

  “You can have it,” one of the other men shouted in a terrified voice. “Just don’t kill me. You can have whatever you want. Take it all.”

  Jule clung to Lincoln’s leg peering around it. Out of the shadows a body appeared, Lincoln aimed his Glock at it until Noah said smugly, “You’re welcome.”

  Noah’s gaze never wavered from the two men left.

  “Where the fuck did you come from?” Lincoln asked while helping Jule to her feet.

  “Don’t talk to me I’m so pissed at you,” Noah said angrily.

  “What the fuck did I do to you?” Lincoln asked bewildered.

  “Little fucking mini cannibal scared the shit out of me—,” Noah’s voice cut off in midsentence. “It ain’t right.”

  Lincoln chuckled, “It’s time to load up. What should we do with these two?” He indicated the two men with their hands raised.

  “They’re not coming with us,” Jule said immediately taking that option off the table.

  “So, we leave them here to fend for themselves or we kill them,” Noah said out loud.

  Someone whimpered.

  “And if we leave them, they might follow and kill us,” Lincoln added.

  “We don’t want no trouble,” the man by the light said.

  “But when you thought you were on the winning team you had no problem causing trouble,” Lincoln’s gravelly voice filled the room. He took his pack off, placed it against the wall, and stretched out his
back.

  “I really want to kill them but I kinda feel like humans are losing the war and we should try to save as many as we can,” Noah admitted on the fence about the decision.

  Let’s tie them up and figure it out later,” Lincoln said.

  “I’d rather not be tied up,” one of the men spoke up with courage.

  “You can die instead,” Lincoln offered the other option aloofly and shrugged.

  Noah found a stack of saran wrap and bound their arms and legs. To be safe, he rolled it around their torso and arms, trapping everything underneath. Jule agreed to stand guard because she wanted to rest her legs before the trek back.

  The giant conventional ovens stared at Lincoln and he asked Noah, “The last thing we need is one of them getting loose and using Jule against us. Do you think a grown man can fit in an overgrown oven? Just until we’re done?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Noah said mischievously and clasped his hands together like a villain.

  Each man was stuffed inside his own personal oven for safekeeping. Noah played with the doors for a minute. “There’s no way they can escape without us hearing them,” he said satisfied.

  “Holler if you need us,” Lincoln told Jule before he left to raid the pantry with Noah.

  The kitchen was easy to navigate since it was protected by the metal counters. In the pantry they searched for the premade food that wasn’t expired. Lincoln found four carts they used to transport trays and filled two entirely with bottled water and juice. Noah filled the other two with canned foods, Jell-O, and snacks still in the wrappers.

  “We should eat, and use the supplies in here because I doubt anyone else will be back,” Noah said pulling the top off the Jell-O.

  Jule refused to eat. “I threw up everything on my way here. I’d rather just wait until we get back.”

  “I don’t think I use my nose anymore,” Noah confessed. “It’s just decoration at this point.”