The Ashleigh Rhodes Chronicles (Book 1): Dark Rhodes

by Michael Canon

  Reaching the floor, he startled me with a ferocious hug and quickly moved to repeat it with Martin.

  Martin laughed, returning the gesture, and said, “Hello Jeffery, good to see you still among the living, my boy.”

  Disengaging himself from Jeffery, Martin said, “Ashleigh, this is Jeffery McCabe. Jeffery, your beautiful savior, is Ms. Ashleigh Rhodes.”

  Jeffery’s eyes widened, and he did a double-take at Martin. “Yes, Mr. McCabe, this is Barbara’s daughter Ashleigh.”

  I smiled my best smile and offered him my hand, and said, “Hello Jeffery, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stared at my hand for a moment before shaking it.

  He exclaimed, “Oh, Wow, it’s so cool to meet you! Your Mom is an amazing woman! She saved my Pop’s life.”

  I laughed a little, and replied, “I’ve heard that a lot since I got here. I’m glad she could help your father.”

  Martin explained, “Mr. McCabe is one of the building’s technology gurus from our IT Department.”

  Jeffery asked, “Are you really a structural engineer? Were you like the only girl in your whole class?”

  I nodded and said, “Not the only girl, but I was the youngest.”

  Jeffery looked confused, until Martin said, “Our lovely Ms. Rhodes is something of a phenom. She graduated from high school at the ripe old age of 16 and had her Masters from the University of Arizona by the time she was 23.”

  Jeffery looked at me with awed surprise, and said, “Rock on, I dig chicks with brains.”

  Martin snickered, and replied, “Watch yourself, Mr. McCabe, she’s also a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and of equal discipline in Israeli Krav Maga combat techniques. She will hand you your teeth before you know you’ve lost them.”

  Jeffery’s smile faltered, and he stammered, “I.. oh.. …geesh, I’m sorry if I offended you, Ashleigh.”

  I gave him my sternest look for a moment, then quickly switched back to an award-winning smile and said, “It’s okay Jeff, I only bite those who deserve it, or who ask me to.”

  The resulting redness and expression on Jeff’s face caused Martin to laugh as hard as I’d ever heard him laugh since I met him.

  We informed Jeff about what was going on and our mission, and he agreed to join us.

  “Not like I can stay up in the ceiling forever. Can I hit the bathroom, and maybe the cafe before we take over what’s left of the world? Been holding it for a long time!” he said sheepishly with a shrug of his shoulders.

  While Jeff and then Martin took care of business, I searched the area for a new weapon but came up empty-handed. As I searched, Jeff took the time to raid the cafeteria. I caught him looking me over more than once as he collected various snacks and some bottled water. Martin and I each took an offered bottle of water but passed on the snacks.

  Using his key, Martin called the executive elevator. Entering the elevator, he selected the appropriate floor. Jeff stood uncomfortably close to me, but I chalked it up to him being stuck alone in the ceiling of a room filled with zombies for over 24 hours. As we arrived, Martin used his key to take the car out of service and prevent the doors from opening automatically.

  We listened for what seemed like hours, then Martin said, “The exec parking area is gated, so I think we should be safe from an excessive amount of undead company.”

  As he reactivated the elevator, we saw nothing but a four-door luxury sedan across from us as the doors parted. I motioned for the others to stay back as I exit the elevator.

  Jeff looked perplexed as I exited the elevator weaponless, while Martin hung back with a handgun.

  Without looking at him, Martin said, “Noise attracts them, and Ash can handle herself.” Jeff nodded in a completely unconvinced fashion just as two Georges exited the small security office to the right of the elevator.

  The first George was a man in a very expensive and very bloodstained business suit. His left ear and most of the flesh below it were missing. The other zombie was a short brunette woman. She was similarly dressed, bloodstains included. I set myself as they approached, wanting to see what they would do as they got closer. As with the other Georges, both turned away as they got within three feet from me.

  I heard an astonished, “What the Hell!?!” from Jeffery, which caused the zombies to immediately turn towards the sound of his voice.

  I backed up, attacking the woman with a series of front kicks to the head. My last kick broke the creature’s neck, causing her to flop to the ground. Turning my attention to the other zombie, I noticed that the female’s eyes still tracking my movements, but she couldn’t move.

  Mr. Business Suit appeared very agitated, his arms coming up as he closed in to attack. I grabbed his right one, twisting it and spinning it, and myself, behind the zombie’s back. Letting go of its arm, I quickly used both hands to break its neck. Seeing no other threats, I motion for Martin and Jeff to join me.

  I said, “They’re down, but not dead, so don’t get too close to their mouths.” as the men approach.

  Bending down for a closer inspection, Jeff watches the zombie’s eyes following his every movement, their mouths opening and closing as he examines them.

  “I don’t understand how they can still be alive… undead with a broken neck! And is it just me, or did they seem to lose interest in you as they got close? I watched these fuckers kill my friends, then watched my friends kill other friends and I never saw one turn away from a free lunch!” he exclaims.

  I didn’t know how to answer his question, and was only saved from the awkward silence when Martin spoke up, “For reasons unknown to us, the regular undead do not like Ms. Ashleigh.”

  Jeffery froze where he was from Martin’s last statement.

  Looking at us both through elevator eyebrows, he asks, “I see. OK, I’ll bite, pun intended, what the Hell categorizes an “un-regular” undead?”

  Martin and I proceed to describe and explain what we knew about Hunter zombies. Jeff’s expression and color turning ever more morose as our description progressed.

  Once we finished our explanation, he looks at us dejectedly, “Well shit! There goes my dream of being a zombie-killing badass! His bottom lip pooching out in mock sadness.

  I laughed and said, “How about you just stay playing for our team for now?”

  He nodded and smiled at me, but his eyes didn’t convey that smile. He looked at me like he wanted something.

  We followed Martin across the executive parking area to his small SUV. As we walked, Martin said over his shoulder, “You seem to be taking the world’s end in the mouth of a zombie apocalypse in stride Mr. McCabe.”

  Shrugging, Jeff replied angrily, “Sorry Martin, this is every Computer-Nerd or Sci-Fi, Geeks’ dream come true. The playing field just got leveled for all of us. It’s our turn to take whatever we want in what’s left of this world. I get to make my own rules now, if someone gets in my way, I’ll go through them. I plan on being a king, all I have to do is be smart about it.”

  I looked at Jeff and saw he was completely serious. My internal alarms were going off, and Mr. Jeffery McCabe just earned himself a place on my watch list. Martin was looking at me, I could tell we were in complete agreement without saying a word.

  Reaching the small luxury SUV, Martin opened the back hatch to reveal two large black canvas bags and one large plastic case with a couple serious looking combination locks built into it. Martin motioned for Jeff to grab one handle as he went around to the passenger’s rear door to push the case out the back. As the case starts to move, I lean across Jeff to grab the other handle. I felt him lean into me, attempting to make the most of our proximity. Shoving him away with my shoulder I help swing the heavy case out of the SUV, earning me a look of almost adolescent disapproval. I knew this situation was going to get out of control quickly if Jeff continued down this path.

  Martin walked around the case and opened the locks. As he lifted the lid, Jeff says, “I’ll take those….” reaching for the two holstered 9mm pistols on top
of the other equipment in the case. Martin shut the case quickly, momentarily catching Jeff’s right hand.

  “Ow! What the fuck’s your problem, old man!” Jeff screams as he attempts to open the case.

  Holding it closed, Martin replied sternly, “My problem, young man, this is my equipment, not yours. Do you even know how to fire a gun?”

  Jeff leans into Martin and says, “You aim and pull the fucking trigger! What else is there? Now step back before I have to hurt you.”

  I push myself in between them and turned to Jeff. “You need to calm down and get your head on straight. We’re all in this together.”

  Jeff’s demeanor and body language changed, his attempt to be suave failing miserably. “Oh baby, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you once we off the old man and take his shit. It’ll be us against the world.”

  I laughed nearly as hard as Martin had earlier, “I’m sorry, I prefer my men three times your size, and four times your maturity level.”

  Jeffery’s face turned into a beet-red mask of rage.

  He screams at me, “Fuck you, you little bitch!” while trying to smack me in the face.

  I intercepted his hand and bent his fingers backward. Lifting his arm by his injured fingers, I send five hard, rapid punches into his right kidney. Gasping from the pain, Jeffery dropped to the ground, folding into the fetal position.

  I bent over him, and said, “Now listen to me very carefully little boy. I know you’re used to your digital fantasy worlds and all problems being solved in 43 minutes, or situations where you can hit restart if things don’t go your way. But we are not in one of your comic books, video games, or some crappy television show. You can leave on your own, or you can stay with us. If you stay with us, you play by our rules. If you step out of line again, I’ll personally feed your balls to the ugliest woman zombie I can find. Then, after you change, I’ll chain you to her for eternity.”

  Jeff's eyes teared-up, and filled with juvenile hate as he contemplated what I said to him. He made his decision with a feeble attempt to sweep my legs out from underneath me.

  Hauling his sorry ass to his feet, I began dragging him across the executive parking area. He struck me in various places with his fists. I barely registered his strikes as pain. I headed for the large metal gate that sectioned off the executive parking area from the rest of the underground lot.

  “What the fuck are you, you bitch!” he screamed. “Nobody your size is this strong!”

  I just smiled as I threw him through the three-foot gap between the top of gate and the ceiling. Jeffery landed hard, but painfully sprung to his feet.

  With tears streaming down his face, he screamed at us, “You don’t get it, this is my world now. There are no more laws, no more rules. My kind is going to enslave fucking do-gooders like you!”

  Martin stepped forward, “Are you going to do all this before, or after you become one of the undead Mr. McCabe?” as he pointed behind Jeff.

  Jeff turned to see four zombies shuffling towards him, with a fifth and sixth getting up from between various cars at the other end of the garage floor. Running away, dodging the approaching undead, we hear him scream, “I’ll be back to kill you all!”

  I turned away from the gate, “He seemed like such a nice guy when he climbed out of the ceiling.”

  Martin agreed, “The veil of morality and decency among the human race is thinner than we expect when a crisis takes hold. Come on, let’s get this equipment into the elevator.”

  I interrupted him before he could continue, “Let’s see what these go to, too!” as I jingled the keys I had found in my jacket, earning me a nod of agreement.

  25

  Moving the equipment into the elevator, we sent the car up to the 22nd floor. Giving a wide berth to the half-eaten security guard, Martin called Nikki on the security office phone to tell her it was on its way up.

  “Yes, we’re doing fine, please send the elevator back down as soon as you unload it. Survivors? Yes, we found Mr. McCabe from the IT Department, but had to part ways with him over a difference of opinion,” Martin said with a remarkable level of understatement. “I’ll explain when we return. See you soon.”

  Hanging up the phone, Martin held his hand out for the mysterious keys, hitting the lock button on one of the keys twice. A loud beep of a vehicle horn issued forth from around the corner to the left. Martin motioned for me to lead, as we head in the direction of the horn. Turning the corner, we see two military-sized, black Humvees sitting next to each other. Each had “H1” and “H2” stickers in the upper left corner of the windshield. The large vehicles are backed into multiple parking spots to make room for the giant V-Shaped snow plow each was fitted with.

  “Well, it appears that someone has outclassed me when it comes to party favors,” said Martin with a small laugh.

  Martin approached the first vehicle, stopping to inspect the plow, “This is not a standard snow plow by any means, look how thick this metal is. The blade, the frame, the hydraulics, everything is bigger, thicker, and stronger than is needed for a vehicle of this size. These are intended to move something much heavier than snow and ice.”

  I examined the plow as he handed me the keys for H2, keeping the H1 keys for himself. The metal seemed very thick, but I’m an Arizona girl with zero experience with plows, so I just nodded at his observations.

  I opened the driver’s door on H2 to see a Spartan interior. Nylon webbed seats, a rubber floor cover, it even had window cranks. The only visible high tech items were a factory CD player and an aftermarket navigation unit mounted on top of the dash.

  A note taped to the steering wheel read, “Please listen to the CD in vehicle 1.”

  I moved to join Martin just as he offered me a view of the note he encountered, which wanted us to play the CD in Tray 1. I hopped in the passenger’s seat as Martin inserted the key and moved it to the auxiliary position. I pressed play when the stereo system became active, hearing three beeps, then a strong male voice,

  “Hello Ashleigh, I am a friend of your family and have offered them my support to get you home during these perilous times. You will find weapons, medical supplies, food, and water for multiple people in each vehicle.

  If Martin Schofield, Gregory Cho, Robert Oliver, Desiree Bowers, Allan Buckwalter, Jennifer Carter, Mario Gonzales, Jonathan Whittaker, Jacob Specter, or Nikki Wilder are among the survivors, please make sure that they leave the Davron building with you. We will need people like them if we are to survive as a species.

  You and the others must leave Boston as soon as possible. The city has been overrun by the undead and is not safe. There are GPS coordinates programmed into both vehicles. They will take you to a secure harborside warehouse that contains transportation and equipment you’ll need to get back to Tucson.

  There will be more details and instructions available when you arrive. This message will stop automatically; please press play again when you get ready to leave for the warehouse. Be safe and do not delay in leaving the city or you may not have another chance.”

  Martin and I sat in stunned silence for a long moment.

  “Well, this chap seems to have a strong grasp on what’s going on, so let’s not dally any more than necessary,” as he exited the vehicle and headed to the back.

  I sat there for a moment, wondering who could have done all this so quickly, and why. How did they know this was going to happen? Why was I getting such preferential treatment? I knew my mother had helped some important people in the past, but this seemed excessive. Shaking my head, I joined Martin at the back of the large SUV.

  Martin was smiling and nodding enthusiastically at all the equipment in the back of the vehicles.

  After quickly looking everything over, I selected one of the M4 rifles in H1 and opened an ammo case. I grabbed a full magazine and tapped the back on my palm, before slapping it into the rifle. Pulling the charging handle, I moved the selector to each position, then back to safe. Slinging the rifle over my shoulder, I select
ed a wicked looking machete and sheath, along with a Beretta 92FS 9mm that was already in a thigh holster. I smiled with internal amazement as I identified and assessed all the weapons and equipment with the knowledge of a seasoned professional.

  Martin handed me a black nylon military equipment belt. I adjusted the belt and snapped the holster to the belt. I added the sheathed machete to the belt’s left side. I found a tactical vest with integrated body armor that judging by its size, must have been chosen just for me. I set my new M4 down, and with a few adjustments, the vest fit perfectly. I quickly filled the its numerous pockets with extra magazines for both weapons.

  Martin grinned, and said, “Their skills are still yours, amazing, absolutely amazing.”

  Picking up my M4, I grimaced at the cost of my recent knowledge and abilities, “Come on Doc, let’s put all these new skills to use and save some people.”

  We loaded a nylon military duffle bag with more weapons, ammo, and equipment. Leaving some equipment for our return, we locked the doors and headed the elevator.

  When we finished loading the elevator, I said, “Give me a second,” as I walked over to the two disabled zombies.

  Drawing my new machete, I used the blunt side of the blade to crack both of their skulls. I cleaned it on the man’s jacket, sheathed the blade, and joined Martin in the elevator.

  26

  The ride back up was fairly quick, but we could tell the elevator’s multiple trips was agitating the undead around us. More than once we heard and felt the impact of one of the undead on the closed elevator doors. The elevator dinged as it arrived on the 22nd floor. As the doors opened, the barrel of a rifle and two handguns stared us in the face. Marcus immediately lowered the hunting rifle, with the others following suit when they saw Martin.

  I stepped out of the elevator and said, “Hi Marcus, how’s it going?”

  “Right as rain pretty lady; nice gear,” he replied with a smile as he assessed my new toys over raised eyebrows. Connor and Nikki walked up as we passed by the elevator guards.