Z-Boat (Book 2): Z-Topia

by Suzanne Robb

  “She was beautiful, Charlie.”

  “Yes, she was. We met at a restaurant when I was on a break,” Charlie said, as he sat back and closed his eyes. “Clare was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen. The grit and grime of the city around her did nothing to dissuade her optimism. She spoke of a better tomorrow, a world in which we would be safe once more.” Charlie chuckled. “I bought into it, I heard the way I used to feel in her words and realized Richards was wrong. All he accomplished with his thug tactics was to instil more fear and hatred of us. That’s when I knew it was time to leave.”

  Ally snorted. “I doubt Richards let you go so easily. When I left, his goons always showed up until I found a spot to hide several thousand feet below the surface of the ocean. The man is tenacious when he’s double crossed.”

  “No kidding, I’ve been doing the best I can to avoid him. What helped was other people left with me, all disillusioned with him, he sent people after us but gave up when they ended up dead. I know I was on his radar until a year ago, something diverted his attention away from me.” Charlie picked up the box and walked over to the hiding place he’d created for it.

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, returning to the couch, “I thought something happened to him, but learned he was still alive. I tried investigating but the outbreaks have put a stop to that, though I’m hoping some information I recovered tonight might shed some light on things.”

  “What kind of intel do you have, and where did you steal it from?”

  Charlie chuckled. “I stole it from the firm in Russia, all of their information. Too bad Henry Williams had to die. He deserved to suffer a bit more.”

  Ally stood. “Who hired you to kill him? God, Charlie, when did you become like this?”

  “Clare died when we were attacked by some of Richards’s men. I held her in my arms. Her last words to me were ‘don’t become like him, there’s still hope.’ ”

  Charlie could feel Ally staring at him, so he continued with the story. “I lost it, drank, picked fights, the whole gamut of righteous indignation took over. Then one day I woke up in a gutter, the stench of death so strong I threw up. The man next to me was a half-eaten carcass,” he said, taking a shaky breath. “I looked around and realized the world was just like that man, something we were chewing up and leaving for dead. I thought of Clare and how disappointed she would be, thus Finnegan was born.”

  “So, your answer to healing the world was to make up an identity for a killer to gather information from your targets? Nice, Charlie, and you wonder why I think you’re just like that bastard,” Ally said in a disgusted tone.

  “For once in your damn life will you just listen instead of reacting?”

  He looked over at her to see an impassive expression on her face, but anger sparked in her eyes. The best he could hope for.

  “Yes, I created Finnegan. I put the word out about him, how he was willing to take out anyone. At first the jobs were minor, but as the reputation grew so did the jobs. What I did was go in with a team, kidnap whoever it was they wanted dead, and made it look like a death had occurred in no uncertain terms.”

  Charlie took a breath before continuing, as he heard himself tell the story out loud, he understood the look of disbelief on Ally’s face.

  “I made sure the people understood someone decided they should be an afterthought, and if they gave me the information said person was trying to hide I would provide them with new identities, and safe places to live. Over time the data I gathered proved useful. Government contacts were made, people in higher positions trusted and confided in me.”

  Charlie stopped talking and stood. He needed to do something. A bolt of nervous energy hit him and he tensed. Ally sensed it because her posture went rigid. Time to finish his story and get the hell out of here. This place wasn’t safe anymore.

  “I collected a lot of information on Richards, but also on the crooked firms running the world into the crapper. Slowly but surely I’ve been taking them down through non-lethal methods. Computer viruses, tapping into the puppet media outlets when I could… Then about a year ago, Richards’s name popped up then disappeared.”

  Charlie went to the window, he felt someone watching them. He motioned to Ally, but she was already gone. A minute later she returned fully dressed, gun in hand. He recognized it as one of his and shook his head at her abilities.

  As he armed himself and collected what few supplies he could, he tapped the implant on the side of his head.

  “Someone’s going to pay me a visit. I’m taking what I can and relocating with Ally, you’ll know where to find me.”

  “We need to get out of here but you need to hear the rest of this story. Richards worked with someone in the government here, not that they do a whole lot. Problem was lots of strange things happened and a certain person rose from a mediocre position to head mouth piece for the US.” Charlie said as he snagged the box of memories and tossed it into a backpack, he grabbed a duffel bag full of guns and ammunition and tossed a few spare magazines to Ally.

  He opened the door and peered around the corner into the hallway, everyone was gone. A dead giveaway a kill squad was near, or on the way. Addicts had a way of sensing trouble and avoiding it at all costs.

  He looked up, then down, unsure where to go. Ally pushed ahead of him and went to the staircase heading to the roof. He followed and continued talking; Ally needed to know things in case something happened to him.

  “I discovered Richards took out this guy’s superiors and competition. You might remember the name, Dale Allgood?” Charlie smiled when Ally stopped and turned to look back at him with a raised eyebrow. “Dale has gained some respect and is our number one leader, whatever that means. When it happened, Richards disappeared and became a behind the scenes kind of guy. A few months ago his name popped up with a Russian firm, he was doing business with a guy named Henry Williams.”

  Ally spoke as she walked. “You mean the Henry Williams in charge of Russia? The one who would make decisions such as hiring Richards to sink a sub? The one who you killed?”

  Charlie needed to tread carefully. “Perhaps, I won’t know for sure who hired Richards until we look at the data chip. What I do know is they both had something to do with this zombie epidemic. Richards is, or at least was doing something at that facility, I just don’t know what, and I’m no killer. Williams was infected by the time I got there, all I did was put a zombie down.”

  * * *

  The plane stopped and the side doors flipped up. The guards went first to make sure it was all clear, and then Joseph followed. He kept his gun aimed at the ground, but was ready to kill if necessary. Unlike other firm leaders he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty, in fact he liked it.

  The compound seemed deserted; bodies littered the landscape. As the small group neared one of the downed men they realized it was a zombie, the decay and the greenish ooze that puddled out searching for a new home gave it away.

  The warm breeze carried not only the smell of rotten flesh, but also the moans of more dead.

  “Get ready. Company’s coming.”

  Joseph kept them moving forward in hopes this was some sort of decoy. Richards was a smart man and not above leading people to think the place had been overtaken by leaving the bodies of his own men out on display.

  A large cluster of zombies approached from the left. Joseph’s men fired and took out half. Weapons reloaded, more shots rang out. Throats were torn open, flesh was seared off of the skulls of some. Eyes popped then oozed dark fluid on others.

  “Sir, these ones are new or fed recently.”

  “Keep firing. Take out as many of these poor souls as you can.”

  Joseph took aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet shredded the ear of a young boy, no more than a teenager. He fired three more times, the boy finally falling to the ground.

  The mission was futile, there were no hidden guards, no Richards, and no survivor. He’d have to try to contact his source
and find out what the hell happened.

  “Turn around, back to the plane.”

  * * *

  Ally knew someone was watching them. Charlie picked up on it later, he was always slower than her. She scanned the room as he spoke debating the most likely place to stash a weapon for easy reach. She determined behind the tacky photo or under the stack of dusty books.

  When Charlie went to the window she stood and checked the painting—bingo, one fully loaded Glock was hers. She went into her room and changed, making sure to grab her boots.

  As Charlie led them out of the apartment she knew whoever was watching would expect them to head to the street, so she went up. They would be more vulnerable, but would also be at the same level as those watching them.

  She bought Charlie’s story after he showed her the box, most of what he said after that she filed away to think about later. For the time being she wanted to know about the Russian firm. The explosives they planted to destroy the Betty Loo may not have been what killed Marcus, but the submarine they went after on the grounds of a search and rescue was their doing. Not only that, but they knew there would be no survivors.

  If Charlie was right this Henry Williams was the first one on her to kill list, and a name she could scratch off. One down already. Some might see her plans as murder, she knew Marcus would have thought of it as that. Hell, she’d accused Charlie of it five minutes ago. To her though it was revenge, and it was the only thing that might soothe the aching pain in her chest. Just the thought of knowing Williams was infected with what he sent them after eased the pain.

  Other people would be added to the list like Megan Roark, the leader of the firm in North Korea. From everything she discovered the woman had enough blood on her hands to fill an ocean, no murder there, it would be justice.

  As she cracked open the door to the rooftop she grabbed her gun and scanned the areas providing the best cover. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust then crouched and moved forward.

  After eight feet the first shot went off, she rolled toward the edge of the building, making sure to stay low. From where the bullet hit she determined the shooter was off to the left, and a couple levels up.

  “Ally, what the hell were you thinking? We’re sitting ducks up here?” Charlie grumbled.

  “Shut up, or you’re going to get us both killed, just keep your eyes open and get ready to cover me.”

  Ally shot out three street lights, and one solitary bulb on the roof to provide them some additional cover. She then turned with her forearms resting on the concrete ledge. She aimed in the general direction she determined the sniper was. Charlie took his cue and pointed his gun in the same area as Ally and fired.

  Ally waited, she knew the sniper would not be able to resist two targets in the open. As soon as she saw movement she pulled the trigger three times. The body fell from the rooftop across the way.

  “Well, that’s one down. Let’s go.” Ally grabbed Charlie and made for the fire escape.

  She hopped over the ledge and ignored the wobble of the rusted metal contraption. Ally reached for the ladder when Charlie landed, sure they were going to plummet to their death.

  “Jesus, Charlie, is this thing an antique?”

  Ally descended the stairs all the while remaining alert for additional shots taken at them, and keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of trouble once they hit the ground. Two minutes later, they jumped the last ten feet to the sidewalk below.

  Rolling to her feet as soon as possible, Ally kept her gun out and debated their best exit strategy. Whoever was following them would have the obvious areas covered. She decided to take a not so obvious way out. A battered pickup rumbled by them and Ally ran for it jumping into the bed. Charlie hesitated for a second, but a bullet whizzing by his head and shattering the window behind him was enough motivation to get him to move his ass.

  The driver of the truck held a bottle of something in one hand and sang along to the song on the radio. He hadn’t even noticed his hitchhikers, Ally thanked whoever for small favors.

  “Charlie, who wants you dead?”

  “How do you know it’s me they want dead? Maybe it’s someone after you,” he said.

  Ally shook her head. “The only person who knows I’m alive is Richards, and his camp is miles away. Not to mention I know you’re smart enough to make sure wherever we went would have been safe. The only way they found us is if someone in your group sold you out.” Ally reasoned.

  “I know Finnegan has a lot of enemies, but I also know Richards wants you in a bad way. I can say the people working for me wouldn’t take a cent from Richards except for—” Charlie stopped and tapped his implant.

  “It’s me, everything is still a go to meet.”

  “We won’t be safe there either, if someone in your little club sold us out, they’ll do it again.”

  Charlie rubbed his face with his hands. “No, not this location, only one person knows about it and I trust him with my life. The person I suspect however… I want to have more evidence before I do anything.”

  “And what is your evidence? Him meeting us with an armed contingent?”

  “Something like that.”

  Ally sighed, Charlie was going to get them killed. He wasn’t thinking straight. She didn’t like the idea of going to another supposed safe house, only to have to run for her life. She wanted to start killing the people on her list and find out who needed to be added to it.

  * * *

  He watched through his glasses as the two hopped into a vehicle passing by. He turned the ignition and pulled out slowly. He didn’t need to follow, he knew where they would be heading. He picked up a communication device, implants could be traced and he wouldn’t risk that, he was too smart to make a rookie mistake like that.

  He spoke the numbers and waited for the other end to pick up.

  “What?”

  “They escaped, not sure what gave us away, but don’t worry I know where they’re heading.”

  “Just get the damn data back. I can’t have that information getting out.”

  “And my cover?”

  “Screw your cover. This is more important, you idiot.”

  “Yes, sir.” He hung up the phone and turned left at the next light.

  He needed to get to the safe house before them—traps to set, false leads to plant, so much work to do. He smiled to himself. Charlie was so trusting. He couldn’t wait to see his face when he realized who the traitor was.

  He knew he was almost discovered back in Russia, but the idiot backed down as usual. Of course he’d be more careful now, but Charlie was so obsessed with his new friend he wouldn’t pick up on the small details like he used to.

  Chapter Eleven—

  Megan Roark figured her day couldn’t get any worse, but as soon as she had the thought she knew she’d screwed herself. Though it didn’t matter, zombies lurked everywhere gobbling up the needy and stupid, there was no link to her and the death of the submariners, and whoever the survivor was had no idea she was behind the plot to blow them to hell as soon as she got the data transmission. Not having the information irritated her, but she couldn’t worry about it now.

  A knock at her office door broke her out of her mental reverie. She looked at her watch and realized it was show time. Examining herself she smoothed her blouse and skirt, and plastered a smile on her face.

  “Come in,” she said in a cheery voice.

  A tall man in his fifties entered, a camera aide behind him. She recognized Brian Xiang, the most revered reporter in the world. She’d paid several million dollars to get an interview, and it had already paid off. He would insure good publicity for her firm, and of course North Korea as well.

  Megan walked to the front of her desk reaching out a hand. “Mr. Xiang, an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

  “Miss Roark, the cameras aren’t digitizing yet, you don’t need to pretend. This is the deal, your money went through with no problems or paper trail, in return I will let you spout off about h
ow wonderful your firm is and whatever else you feel the need to yammer about. You have one hour of time starting now.”

  Brian motioned to the man with the camera. He raised it, focusing on the two.

  “Miss Roark, how wonderful it is to meet you in person. After all the conversations we’ve had I feel as if I already know you. Why don’t you have a seat and tell me all about your firm and the great country you live in.”

  Megan liked him, he didn’t play games, and got straight to the point. She smiled back, returned to her seat and spoke.

  “Mr. Xiang, nice to meet you as well. As you know we’re quite busy here at the firm working to protect our citizens from the viral outbreak. We’re hoping to stop it before it becomes too much of a problem. On top of that, we’re working to create a stronger army and economy to make sure the balance of power doesn’t topple over in any one direction.” Megan smiled at the camera before continuing, “We’re also expanding our presence in other areas and uniting with some of the smaller countries that have been steadfast in maintaining their independence all these years.”

  An hour later Brian excused the cameraman. When the latch clicked the interviewer laughed.

  “I must say. Miss Roark, you got a set on you. That was one of the most fabricated announcements I’ve ever heard. But you got the press you wanted, people love me, so ratings aren’t an issue.”

  Megan pushed her seat back and stood while undoing the button on her blazer. Like a cat staking its prey she stepped around the front of her desk and perched in front of the reporter.

  “Mr. Xiang, I’m glad to have impressed you. I aim to please.”

  “I’m sure you do, though you might want to do something about the zombie outbreak. People are talking, and they know it’s not some minor incident.”