by Suzanne Robb
A pile of dead bodies lay about fifteen feet from him. He stepped off the porch, his ears listening for even the slightest noise. The dogs were loose and the last thing he needed was to be attacked by one of them. They made sure not to feed the majority in order to avoid any unpleasant incidents, but there had been a few.
As soon as he got within five feet he could see almost two dozen zombies had been taken out along with three guards. He imagined the same fate for his dogs, and those who weren’t answering.
Running toward the warehouse he stopped short when he realized the gates were open. Christ, over five hundred zombies loose on the grounds. How in the hell did that happen? No wonder his men didn’t answer, they were all dead.
How did this all go wrong? They were supposed to be the next step in protection. He’d organized it so well. Walls were in place, the dogs now had collars with explosives in them if they got too close to him or his men. Richards guessed they should have done a beta test to make sure they worked.
When they were breached they didn’t have time to put the collars on their new purchases. He’d thought it would be safe to let a few out and see what they could do. Now he was most likely the only human alive in the compound.
Richards raced back to his office and loaded everything important into his Go bag. He headed out the back door where his armored truck waited, along with a pack of zombies. Damn it, ever since Lisa got back nothing went right for him.
Stupid woman had no idea who she’d made an enemy of, but she would. Taking out an automatic rifle he fired several shots. The bullets went through the bodies causing bits of them to splatter on his truck. He couldn’t take the risk of damaging his only way out. Sighing he lifted the rifle with both hands, taking head shots. Too long, within seconds they gained ten feet on his location, and he’d only taken out about four. He went back into his office and barred the door.
The window shattered and a decayed arm reached in, grasping at air. The door splintered and Richards knew he needed to outsmart the stupid things. He waited until the wooden barrier was about to give way, and then ran out the front door in the hopes they would follow him. Based on their speed he would be halfway off the compound by the time they got to the back of the building.
Three steps out he ran into another two dozen zombies. They’d distracted him while the others got to the front, but that wasn’t possible, was it? He’d heard rumors they could think and plan, but he assumed it was just a bunch of crap to scare people.
As Richards eyed the moaning crowd of undead, he realized he was screwed.
* * *
Ally felt uncomfortable in the back of the truck, but was glad they were at least heading away from Richards and his compound of the damned. Charlie sat across from her, an unidentifiable look on his face, and the ever present tears a mystery to her. The last time she’d seen him was years ago. The day before she’d escaped Richards’s other base of operations in Colorado.
Charlie, along with Richards, outlined the assignment to her: assassinate Howard Fig. She’d agreed to do it, packed her bags, and left the next day. Sitting there now looking at Charlie, she wondered what happened. Did he really leave Richards’s command, or was this some creative ploy to find out what she knew?
“What’s with the crocodile tears Charlie? You didn’t care about me when you sent me to kill the man tagged to be the next president, if only in title. I read you guys still took him out, you should be proud, he was a horrible man. Wanted to make us a better country, get our rights back, and move us up and out of the dark ages. Total piece of work that one.”
Charlie sighed as he turned to look out the window. “It’s not what you think Lisa—”
“Ally,” she cut him off, “my name is Ally.”
“Okay, Ally, I never agreed with what Richards did, but I never had the guts to leave. Finally, five years ago, I grew a set and took off. Since then I’ve been amassing a small but loyal group of people to try and take him out.”
Ally snorted. “Take him out, why? So someone like you can take his place?”
“No, not me.”
Ally stared out the window, not wanting to talk anymore. So far since she’d been rescued every person she met had betrayed and lied to her. Charlie would be no different. She rested her head against the thick glass, thinking back. Her eyes closed and for the first time in the last few days she felt safe enough to rest.
After her parents died Ally had been brought to the militia, she met Charlie there. They were roughly the same age, and he’d had a similar story to her. Parents killed, no siblings, but he’d volunteered.
Richards’s words banged around in her head. Her mom and dad signing her over to a killer. None of it made sense, but as much as she didn’t want to believe it, his story had the ring of truth. Her grandfather had tried so hard to engrain a solid moral compass in her, now she understood why. He hated militias, probably blamed Richards for the death of his son. The last thing he wanted was for Ally to end up in his clutches. She gave herself a mental slap. The man was full of shit, her parents loved her. End of story. He wasn’t going to get into her head.
Charlie and her became friends over time; they were both scared kids at first. He acted tough because he was older, but she saw through it. Charlie climbed the ranks, his skill with weapons was formidable. The only problem, Ally did better than him at everything. Richards doted on her, always telling the others to be more like her.
“Ally’s a natural. None of you can do what she does, but you can try. I don’t want a sorry lot defending this country.”
Those words were the first indication she wasn’t at a normal place. Once she hit her mid-teens she learned not to trust any of them, or bother to make friends. She watched one of the new arrivals, a boy no older than ten gunned down by Charlie when the kid tried to break free and make a run for it.
Over the next few years Charlie tried everything to get her friendship back, but she wanted nothing to do with it. He was one of them as far as she was concerned. She did as she was told, and kept her mouth shut. Charlie rose in the ranks along with her. The day she ran she’d thought about asking Charlie to come with her, but remembered the way the boy crumpled to the ground, blood everywhere, and realized Charlie belonged to Richards.
“Wake up, Lisa… I mean, Ally.”
Ally opened her eyes, amazed she’d fallen asleep. She must have been more tired than she realized. Charlie held the truck door open and she exited, trying to pull the sweatshirt down.
“Come on, I’ll take you to the extra room and grab you some clothes. There’s a bathroom attached where you can sponge off and change. I’ll be out in the living room when you’re done.”
Ally followed Charlie as the truck pulled away. She looked at the building in front of them. Dilapidated, overcrowded, the smell of death in the air, and run down, exactly how she imagined living in the city to be.
They made their way up several sets of stairs passing junkies, alcoholics, whores, and pimps. What a damn mess, she thought. The world went to hell, and from the looks of it the zombies were going to scavenge off of what was left of humanity. A dark thought gripped her, food was all they were good for now.
Charlie stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, waved his palm over the pad, and then punched in his code. Ally couldn’t believe how out dated his lock was, even on Betty Loo, they’d had retinal scanners, DNA testers, and voice analyzers. Sure, they were busted and her captain didn’t want to pay to fix them, but they were there.
Charlie opened the door and made a sweeping motion. She raised an eyebrow but entered anyway. The inside of the apartment nothing how she thought it would look. The small living room, about ten by ten feet had a couch with a square table. A room off to the side had interesting things covering the wall and a desk inside.
“Your room is over here,” Charlie murmured.
The door creaked on its hinges and revealed a single bed, nightstand, and dresser. She went inside and out of habit examined
it for weak points. The window first, good line of sight, thick curtains to block anyone from following her shadow, and she remembered the structure was stone, so that made her body temperature difficult to follow.
Now she understood why he’d chosen this place, it was safe and defensible. She pushed on the mattress, surprised at how much she looked forward to sleeping on a bed. Charlie reappeared in the doorway with a pile of clothes, all of them women’s.
“Any reason you have these, or is it better if I don’t know?”
“They belonged to my wife. She was about your size.”
Ally nodded and then went into the bathroom. She heard the door shut and was glad to be alone. The loss in his eyes at the comment made her think of Marcus, and she wasn’t about to show weakness, not until she knew what Charlie was up to. She’d learned the hard way nothing was as it seemed.
With care she removed the data chip from her boot, and the data sticks she’d gathered from Richards’s office. She stripped off her clothing, all the while her mind at work. The shirt he wore peeled off and her hair smelled horrid, and she could see the remnants of the green ooze on her skin.
For a moment she thought it moved, and she grabbed the sponge next to the sink and scrubbed herself with a rust remover she found under the sink. An hour later, and missing at least twenty layers of skin, she felt clean.
She ran her hair through the filter mounted in the wall and sighed at the warm air as it removed all the debris, bacteria, and oils from her scalp. She grabbed the clothes Charlie brought in and picked out a pair of threadbare sweat pants and a plain grey t-shirt.
A pair of brand new socks got her attention. She hadn’t worn new anything in years. She rolled them onto her feet and basked in the simple luxury. She grabbed her boots and other things then went into the bedroom.
She peered around the doorway to make sure Charlie wasn’t there. Of course he could have a camera, but it was a risk she would have to take. She took the data sticks and chip and hid them in her boot once more, then shoved them underneath her bed.
Taking a deep breath she opened the door, knowing Charlie had a story to tell her and it was total crap, or depressing. Either way she dreaded it, but had to play along.
* * *
Richards fired again, this time separating the head of the rotting thing from its body. He’d lost count of how many he’d taken down. He only knew they kept coming and he was getting low on ammunition.
A shot to his right scared the crap out of him. If the damn things knew how to use guns he was going to eat his, rather than turn into one of them.
“Sir, they’re all dead, the other guards… I tried but—” the man huffed, out of breath.
“Why didn’t you answer on your radio?”
“Broke in the scuffle and my implant is malfunctioning.”
Richards knew the guard was full of crap, he didn’t have the clearance to open the front gate. The wound on his leg would be a hindrance in climbing the thirty foot fence. The idiot ran all the way to the exit only to realize he was trapped. Stupid bastard, at least he was here now and Richards could use the diversion.
“Glad you’re here now, the truck is over there, I’ve got it all ready, just need a distraction for these hungry folk.”
The man fired a shot and took out one of the approaching horde.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Something simple, but effective,” Richards said as he reached over and gutted the man with his knife.
He kicked him over and watched as a large pool of blood formed. The zombies moaned and stirred with new life, or whatever it was that got them going. As they moved in to eat the guard Richards ran for the truck, pulling the door shut behind him he yelled out, “Start car, head for exit, fastest possible speed.”
Resting his head on the back of the seat he had one thing on his mind, Lisa, or Ally as she called herself. He needed to get the data sticks back and kill her, not necessarily in that order. Bitch would pay for what she did.
He wracked his brain as to how she got out. He knew it had something to do with whoever breached the perimeter. There could only be one man who knew about this place and was stupid enough to come and rescue her.
Charlie Myers.
Richards was going to the city.
He tapped his implant and said, “I’m coming for Myers and the girl, get me an address and surround the place. I don’t want them getting away.”
* * *
Charlie stared at Lisa, Ally now, and missed his wife, the clothes she wore a reminder of what he’d lost. A swell of anger started but he forced it down. He needed to make Ally understand he wasn’t the same guy. He wasn’t the person who’d sent her out to assassinate someone. The problem was how to convince her of it.
As she walked over he noticed the caution written all over her face, and something else, discomfort maybe? Then he remembered, and almost smiled, she hated talking about feelings, always had.
“Have a seat. I made some coffee. Tastes like crap but at least it covers up the flavor of the water. Sorry I don’t have much to eat, I know you must be hungry.” He pointed to a few energy bars he tossed on the table.
Ally sat with her back leaning against the arm of the couch. She looked at the mug of coffee then back at him. She eyed one of the bars and snatched it up.
“Charlie, I know this is going to be one of those feeling’s conversations, as well as you trying to convince me you’re a changed man. So let’s just get to it okay?” she said.
He nodded and threw the speech he’d memorized out the window. Lisa… Ally would want the facts, the truth, and as little emotions involved as possible. Problem with that was he had a strong emotional attachment to what he planned.
Chapter Ten—
Joseph stared out the window and took in the devastated landscape below. The expanse of lumpy water with various objects floating in it was hard enough to endure, but to see the radioactive clouds from where directed strikes were sent to try to contain the epidemic made him angry. Humans were stupid, they’d been warned decades ago, but didn’t listen. Now his generation needed to find a way to breathe life into a dead planet.
Only a few types of animals were left: large dogs for government use and the elite, a few lucky alley cats, rats, and mice, a couple of birds, of course insects thrived. With so many dead and dying things he expected the next firm leader to have six legs. A bad joke, but not far off from the truth. As the plane approached Texas he opened his display panel and read over the information his informant sent. An hour later he knew who the survivor was, where she was being taken, and why she was so important.
Ally Lane, the name she went by now, was an ex-militia member. She’d been on the run for almost ten years, and from the looks of it Richards wanted her back in a bad way. His plan to kill her on the Betty Loo failed, and now he was taking matters into his own hands.
Joseph’s only chance of saving what was left of the world, or attempting to, would be to talk with this woman. He needed to know what she knew.
* * *
“I left Richards’s group five years ago, ever since I’ve been gathering a group of my own. We’re trained, but low in number. The zombies have been keeping us busy, so going after Richards went on the back burner,” Charlie said. “I’ve been collecting tidbits of information as I go under the guise of a hit man named Finnegan. I was hired to blow up the Betty Loo.”
Before he could finish his sentence Ally’s fist connected with his jaw; blood poured out of a split lip. He tried to hold up a protective hand, but another blow connected with his face, knocking a tooth out.
“You bastard, you killed Marcus. You’re a damn liar, you said you didn’t work for Richards anymore,” she wailed.
He rolled off the couch and spared a second to catch his breath and say something before she killed him.
“Ally, I didn’t do it. I turned the job down and Richards snatched it up. When I saw the images of the people killed on board, I recognized you. You hav
e no idea how horrible I felt.”
“How the hell am I supposed to believe a damn word out of your mouth? You were Richards’s golden boy, you’re just like him. A lying, heartless bastard.”
Ally kicked him once in the ribs then backed away talking to herself. Charlie pushed himself to a sitting position grabbing a tissue to stop his lip from bleeding everywhere. He looked at her, saw the movement of her shoulders, and knew she was crying.
Charlie pulled himself up on the couch, he’d never known her to show emotion before. He stared at the wall, the chipped paint his focus. Whatever happened since he had last seen her, she’d changed. He didn’t like it. An emotional Lisa—Ally, was dangerous.
Marcus was one of the dead listed from the Betty Loo, he must have been pretty important to her to elicit such a reaction. After five minutes she turned to face him, eyes swollen and red.
“I don’t know how I can trust you Charlie. Everything is too convenient. How do I know Richards isn’t going to bust down the door right now and try and finish me off?”
Charlie held the rag to his face, shaking his head.
“Ally, I promise I’m not the same guy. I met someone, fell in love, and realized what we were doing was wrong. Clare changed everything for me.”
“Sounds like a nice story Charlie, but I’m still not buying it.”
Charlie stood and walked over to a worn bookcase. He pushed an image panel aside and stuck his hand behind it. After some maneuvering he pulled his arm out holding a small package. He blew the dust off of it and cradled it in his arms. Walking over to the couch he knelt and placed the box on the coffee table. He felt the couch sag as Ally sat next to him. His peripheral vision caught Ally taking the item. Charlie didn’t need to watch, he knew the insides of it by heart: locket, wedding ring, pair of earrings, and an old image of their wedding day. Ally put it back a few moments later.
