Lana is shoveling her food around her plate with her fork. I am about to ask what’s on her mind when I look up to see two men going toward the door fully dressed in what appears to be spiked riot gear. My father walks up behind them and gives me an eerie smile, then the three of them disappear out the door. A cold gust of air sweeps over me and a feeling of dread settles in the pit of my stomach. “What the hell is that all about?” I look around waiting for someone to answer me.
“A Z run,” Everlee says as though I should know what tin the hell she is talking about. Wild and Adler interrupt before I can ask for further explanation.
“You girls ready for some live target action?” Adler squeezes Veda’s shoulder then steals a bite of her eggs.
“Get your own,” she chastises, swatting at him playfully.
“Take mine.” Lana pushes her plate down the bar, and he grabs it up and starts eating.
I look to Wild. “What’s going on?”
“This is going to be fun.” He laughs.
I get up from my stool and Lana mimics my every move. “Where’s Asher?”
He scoffs. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“He volunteered. Him and Stitch.”
Lana goes tense next to me and I take her hand in mine offering the comfort I could use myself.
“Volunteered for what?”
“Come on. You have to see it to believe it.” He leans down and kisses Everlee on the mouth. “Join me when you’re done in here, baby.”
“I will,” she coos.
I mentally roll my eyes at them. Though they aren’t the problem. My irritation at not knowing what is going on around here has me on edge and ready to snap at any moment. Lana and I follow him out into the cold after grabbing a couple of coats and gloves. Once the frigid air outdoors hits me, I immediately miss the warmth the clubhouse provided. The sun is shining though. I am ready for spring to make an appearance. I’m sick of the cold.
However, I want to know what in the hell Asher is doing so I follow Wild up a ladder that leads to a balcony that extends over the compound gates.
Club members and old ladies are armed with weapons and waiting to fire on the infected below us. My father is giving orders and I watch it all in slow motion wondering what Asher and Stitch’s roles are in all this. At first everything seems okay. Some of the zombies are curios and going after them but the guys seem to be leading them away from Paradise.
“What’s going on?” I question one of the guys standing next to me. I think his name is Chunk.
“You ever learn about the buffalo run in school?”
“Yeah where the Indians drove them over the cliff…” Ah. I get it now, but did it have to be Asher who volunteered for this crap? I’m going to kill him if the zombie don’t get him first.
—Stitch
Lifting the shield on my helmet, I ask, “You ready to do this?”
“What exactly are we doing?” Asher mumbles from under his shielded helmet.
“It’s what we call a Z run. Today you and I are leading the charge. We go out the gates on the four-wheelers and have the infected bastards chase us to the edge of the mountain. They end up falling over the cliff. Those who don’t follow us…the club deals with disposing of them. Great target practice. Couple of the girls have gotten good with a bow. Shoots them with lit arrows. Sometimes we compete to see who gets the most headshots. Winner gets their pick a woman for the night. And before you get all hot headed the women volunteer. Keeps everyone’s spirits up.”
Asher gives me an annoyed expression but doesn’t run his mouth. It wouldn’t do him any good to. It’s the law of the land around here. We both know Priscilla wouldn’t be signing up to give her body to whomever wanted it. “Right. Let’s do this then,” he says. We bump fists and ride toward the gates.
Stinky hands me a nailed baseball bat and Asher a crowbar with a knife duct taped to the end like a pike. Perfect for the job. We strap our weapons across our backs. Bait lines hooked with blood-soaked rags are attached to the backs of our ATVS. The gate opens and I roar through with Asher to my right. I rev the engine a few times as the gate closes behind us. The undead slowly start toward us. Not all of these bastards move at the same speed though. Some can run. Others seem to track us by sound or smell. A majority of them are dumb but there are those of them that seem to be evolving and growing stronger. If they learn to climb, we are all fucked. That’d be the luck to have these motherfuckers jumping out of trees and shit. I edge forward as they draw closer forming two groups. I probably should have given Asher a few more pointers but he survived out here for a year. He’ll be fine.
I signal to Asher to move out slowly. We need them to follow us. Some of these Z’s are lazy fucks too. They stand in clusters bumping into one another in a never-ending game of pinball. Once they start to snap their fucking teeth, we move off in opposite directions. They won’t find an easy fucking snack in me or Asher. A few of them fall to the ground attempting to feed on the rags. Sick bastards. I lead the group following me through the trees as slow as I can stand to ride. When I reach the edge of the cliff, I don’t see Asher but I’m sure he’s not far behind. I shut off my ride and step off ready to push these fuckers to their doom. I take a quick look over the ledge and below is a pit of rotting corpses. A few vultures are flying overhead, circling their next meal.
I pull my bat from my strap on my back and take my stance, not too close to the edge that I will go over but close enough that I can send these stupid fucks to their final death.
The group giving chase to me reaches the clearing. The ground is turning to mush as the sunshine peering through the clouds begins to melt the snow. The mud is making the Z’s move slower than normal. In the distance I can hear Asher’s ATV. He’s not as close as I had hoped. No matter. I got this. A runner comes at me, teeth bared, snarling. The fucker is fast and lean, like a fucking professional athlete. But I’m smarter. I wait till he gets up on me. His right cheek is hanging off, revealing decaying flesh and bone as it flaps from where he was probably bitten when he died for the first time. I step to the side and jab my bat between his shoulder blades, sending him sailing. As I fight through the rest of the small horde, I keep waiting for Asher and the rest of the undead bastards, fear and worry start to plague me when he doesn’t show, and I no longer hear his engine revving in the distance.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it.
The other Z’s should be arriving.
Fuck waiting. I jump back on my ride and set out in search of my brother.
It doesn’t take long to find him. I find him laid out on the ground surrounded by a horde that is growing larger in size by the second. There is no time to waste even if I am already too late. Armed with my bat I start swinging and fighting my way to Asher.
A short chubby Z attempts to grab hold of my arm and loses three fingers to my spiked armor. As I get closer to Asher, I see his protective gear is the only thing preventing him from being eaten.
Bits of rotted flesh and appendages are attached to the spikes covering his uniform. The sight is grisly. Asher appears to be out cold. Fuck. I could use his assistance right now. I pry his weapon from his gloved hands and take out as many as I can. I stab a female in the eye and smash the skull of another. I freeze in place when an arrow breezes by my face a little too close for comfort if I weren’t wearing heavy armor. Blood splatters on my helmet as another Z takes a shot to the head.
I look to my left and smile to myself when I see Wild and Adler with Everlee, Priscilla, Veda, and then my heart sinks when I see Lana. She shouldn’t be out here. It isn’t safe. I can’t protect her and Asher too.
My friends move in a circle back to back protecting all sides taking out any Z who stands between them and us. As I watch them in action, I can’t help but morbidly think everyone dies and wonder who will be next. Which one of us won’t survive another night? Will it be Adler or Everlee? Wild or Veda? Pricilla? Lana? Asher? Me?
Who t
he fucks knows? But the one thing I do know is I won’t go down without a fight. And neither will they. Not on my watch. I swing my bat at anything that moves and when it wears out and I feel like my arms can’t possibly take anymore punishment, I pick up Asher, hoisting him over my shoulder and make a dash for my ATV. A crawler gets a death grip on my ankles and I go down hard. My legs give out beneath me and my head bounces off the ground. My brains rattle inside my helmet. Spots dance before my eyelids and I hear a woman scream. I look ahead of me as Z’s descend on Asher who no longer has a helmet protecting him.
Fuck.
My muscles burn and ache as I push up off the ground and tackle the group of undead bastards snapping their damn teeth at my brother. Shots pops off around me, but the efforts aren’t enough. I bring my fist down on the back of a Z’s head as it bites into Asher’s neck. I hear the squishing sound of flesh being ripped open. An arrow shoots straight through the fucker’s ear. I fall backwards on my ass and rip my helmet off. Blood squirts from Asher’s neck as Priscilla drops to her knees and gets straight to business putting pressure on the bite. Blood stains her hands as all the color drains from Asher’s face and the light in his eyes fades.
Priscilla though isn’t having it. “Come on, Ash. Stay with me, baby. You’re okay.” Her eyes narrow into dark slits as she meets my gaze. “What happened to him?”
“He didn’t show at the meeting point and when I came looking for him, I found him unconscious and fought my way to him. Then you guys showed up. What are you doing outside the gate?”
“I had a bad feeling and these crazies followed me.” She presses on the wound and the bleeding is slowing down.
“We need to get him back to the compound,” I tell her. Wild and Adler bring both ATVs to us I volunteer to go after a truck and volunteer Lana to go back with me. I could have fucking died just now. My mistake has cost my oldest friend his life. Fuck doing what’s right. Lan looks at me but there isn’t pity in her eyes, there is understanding there, and I crave her a little more for it. Tonight, I’m taking what I want.
Chapter 10
—Judson Meyers
Location Unknown
One year ago, the world was hit by a virus that was the catalyst for the zombie apocalypse. People used to call my Uncle Ramey crazy because he was a doomsday prepper, but he had the last laugh. When the end came—we were prepared. I had been training since I was just a boy in survival and weaponry. So, when I was at a party and everyone around me started turning into flesh eating monsters, I got the hell out of dodge. Only things didn’t go according to plan. As I was racing away from the scene, I nearly ran down Lana, this pretty little thing I had my eye on for quite some time. I was ready to make my move earlier in the night and steal her away from that dick she was dating when fate took care of the situation for me. The fucker was caught red handed making out with her friend. I knew it wasn’t the right time, so I hung back and figured I’d see her soon. I just didn’t realize how soon.
Had it been anyone else standing in the middle of that dirt road I wouldn’t have stopped, but I couldn’t leave her there to die. Not Lana. She hopped in my truck and the radio confirmed what I already knew to be true, the end of days were upon us.
She was worried about her mother and I need to check in with my Uncle Ramsey. I dropped her at her house and never saw her again. When I got to my Uncle, he had his Hummer gassed and ready to go to our bunker.
“I’ll come back. I promise,” the lie rolled right off my tongue. I knew I wouldn’t be back for Lana, but it didn’t make the choice any easier. I had my own problems to deal with. The memory of the pretty girl I left back home to die like the rest of the world haunts me daily. My one regret was not going back for her before it was too late. There wasn’t any time for it. I had to make a choice and I made it. I went back to her house eventually, but it was too little too late. All that was left was her mother’s corpse.
I roll off the top bunk and go straight to the sink in my tiny as cell and splash some cold water on my face. Once fully awake, I start my day. Workout, breakfast, shower, patrol. Day in and day out it is the same routine. I survey our perimeter and repair any damage done by the undead bastards attempting to break in and feast on us. We arrived here four months ago. My Uncle had a contact who assured him that if we made the journey to his location we’d be met with the cure.
It was all bullshit. For the most part. Dr. Clarkson has come close a few times to developing a cure but in the end all of his test subjects have succumb to the virus. He has created an injection that prolongs the process but the longest anyone has survived according to him is a few months at best. There have been reports of there being people immune or able to survive after being bitten but no physical proof of their actual existence has been found or provided. Just hearsay over the radio.
I want to go out in search of these unicorn survivors, but I haven’t been granted permission. Security is tight and ran by a militia. Former members of the secret service and US Military. Dr. Clarkson was recruited to save the President but even he wasn’t immune to the apocalypse. No one is spared. It can happen to anyone at any time. That’s what isn’t known widely. Sure, everyone who remains has had their own theories, but the truth is our government did this to us. Our water supplies were tainted and now the virus is airborne. We are all infected. According to the good Doc the virus has mutated and grows at an alarming rate in some test subjects while it spreads slowly through the immune system of others.
As I survey the north side of the perimeter, I can’t help but wonder what’s left out there in the rest of the world. Sure, I have seen satellite images that show the world is falling and turning into a wasteland. The human race is dwindling in numbers. Some of the camps we had contact with have fallen radio silent. Some days I dream of making an escape from the safety of this prison. I grow restless with each passing day seeking a new purpose. I need a mission. Something to restore my faith that there is still hope.
As if the universe knows I need a sign we pick up a radio signal and catch part of a conversation. There’s more survivors. Some place called Paradise.
Chapter 11
—Lana
My stomach tenses as I sit outside the makeshift clinic back at Paradise waiting to find out if Asher will live or die. That bite he got was pretty fucking nasty. If something happens to him, I worry about what his loss will do to Priscilla. I peer through the curtains that surrounds the table he lays on as some old man named Lock works on him. Asher’s body starts to convulse and black fluid seeps out of his ears, nostrils, eyes, and mouth. My heart falls to the floor. This is it. Another person I care about is succumbing to the virus. Stitch’s tattooed hands grip my hips as he watches on over my shoulder. Priscilla’s father along with Wild and Adler are holding Asher’s body down as he twitches.
“Don’t worry. This same shit happened to Prez. Asher’s going to be fine.”
I twist around to face him. “What do you mean?”
“Come on. There’s nothing you can do right now for him or Pris. We’ll talk in private.” Priscilla nods for me to go on.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you. Not like this.”
She wipes at her eyes looking all cried out and ready to fall over. Before I can protest leaving her, Blade exits the curtain. “Come on, Pris, let’s talk,” he says, guiding her through the curtains to Asher. I want to stay but I feel like she needs her father right now. Him and a miracle.
I accept Stitch’s hand and he leads me through the somber clubhouse and up the stairs to his room. I sit on the edge of the bed and look around as he strips out of his bloody gear. His room is different than I expected. I was prepared for black everything, but his room is light and remarkably clean. He has the usual stuff one would expect to find in a guys’ room though I suppose. A nudie girl calendar on the wall. Cologne on the dresser top. Keys and condoms on his nightstand next to the lamp. I can’t help but turn red at the sight of the condoms after our conversation last night.
I freaking told him I was a virgin and practically offered myself up to him. I turn my attention back to Stitch and oh my word. The man is standing before me in only his birthday suit and tattoos. He cocks his head to the side, smirking. “I gottta grab a shower. Make yourself comfortable or you can join me. Your choice.” He covers the top of his fist with his hand and walks into the bathroom that’s attached to his room. I watch his muscular sexy backside until he disappears from view. He has a tattoo that matches the one Asher has on his back. A grim reaper with a scythe and the words Sons of Destruction. It should be a sin to look like Stitch.
I chew on the side of my thumb as I hear the faucet turn and the water spraying. The noise of a curtain being pulled across the rod sounds, and I mentally argue with myself. Was he serious or was he teasing me? Is this another one of his lessons? I guess it’s now or never. There’s no time like the present to take a chance is there? I take a deep breath followed by three more. Next thing I know I am standing in the bathroom door watching him through the clear shower curtain. His hands are massaging shampoo into his dark hair and I can’t help but think about those same hands touching me. Right now, we both need to forget the world that exists outside of these walls.
Stitch hasn’t noticed me and before he does or I lose my nerve, I pull my top over my head and toss it on the floor. Next comes my shoes and bottoms. I step out of them and when I kick them away, my jeans fly up and hit the shower curtain, catching Stitch’s attention. His surprised stare finds me as I slowly walk toward the shower with my hands at my sides, fully exposed and bared to him. He’s gone completely still other than his growing erection. My fingers tremble as I grip the thick rubbery sheet hanging between us. When I hesitate, Stitch finishes the task and lifts me over the edge of the shower tub combo.
“C’mere,” he growls as soap suds run from his head, down his neck, and over this broad shoulders. Digging his fingers into my hips he jerks me toward him, and I am thankful for the non-slip mat on the bottom of the tub keeping me from sliding.
Paradise Lost: Wasteland (Sons of Destruction MC Book 2) Page 7
