Z-Boat (Book 2): Z-Topia

by Suzanne Robb

  Megan leaned forward and loosened the tie he wore. He grabbed her arms and pulled her toward him so she straddled his lap.

  “I don’t give a damn about the zombies, they can eat the whole planet for all I care. They aren’t my problem. In fact they’re doing me a favor. A smaller population means less mouths to feed, means more for me and the rest of the firm members.” She leaned in and kissed his neck.

  He titled his head to the side. “So you don’t intend to help your people? You’re just going to let them all turn into walking corpses? Have you thought about what to do after that? What will you do with a country overrun by zombies?”

  Megan tilted her head back and laughed, wasn’t the answer obvious? “Kill them, of course.”

  “So what they say about you is true then, you have no heart?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good, then this won’t hurt a bit.”

  In a move so quick Megan didn’t see it, only felt a small pinch of pain. She stared down and saw the hilt of a knife sticking out of her chest. Blood poured out, but when Brian stood, shoving her to the ground he yanked the blade out. Then warm blood pooled on her mid-section.

  “By the way, Allgood sends his regards.”

  * * *

  Joseph read the message on his display panel and felt the panic settle in. Henry Williams was dead, his building destroyed. The hit on Roark was being carried out at the moment. The squad sent to kill him had tracked him as far as Richards’s compound, but Joseph’s men separated into two groups to divert them. So far it worked.

  The survivor, Ally, Charlie Myers, and his crew escaped somehow, but Richards had a mole in their organization who planned to kill them. His informant sent him the coordinates of where Myers was heading.

  Joseph glanced at the time—not enough.

  “Step on it, we need to get there first.”

  * * *

  Richards sat in his truck and sighed. The submarine had a survivor, which he caught an earful about. The survivor now had vital information about what certain individuals and Richards were up to, which if his boss found out about he’d get a whole lot more than a bitching out. And to top it off the survivor had to be Lisa, Ally, whatever she wanted to call herself. One of his best trained assets who already had an axe to grind, killing her boy toy made her more dangerous.

  His cargo of zombies, meant to be a cheaper method of protection, a few for a guy who wanted to examine them for reasons Richards decided were unknown when he saw the “lab,” were now dead and gone.

  The lead on Ally was his only saving grace. His contact was paying off after months of providing Charlie useless information. Knowing he didn’t have to go into the city was a relief, he hated it there. The damn place was a hell hole. Instead, he took a turn off and drove to one of his weapon warehouses.

  He’d left the camp so fast all he had was a rifle and one handgun, both empty. The trip would take about two hours, but according to his contact he had plenty of time before Ally would be recaptured without putting him or his mole in trouble.

  He smiled in anticipation, when Charlie realized he’d been infiltrated, his hope of a better America would be crushed. Knowing his trust resulted in the death of his wife would tear his soul apart. He would second guess every person’s motivations from now until the day he died.

  A hard lesson to learn, but a necessary one. In fact, it was the last lesson Richards would teach him, before he killed him of course.

  * * *

  Ally laid flat on the bed of the pickup ignoring the odor coming from beneath her. Charlie did the same, breaking the silence after a few moments.

  “We need to get out of here and find alternative transportation to get to my safe house.”

  Ally turned her head so she looked at the outline of Charlie. “You do know there is no such thing as safe, right?”

  Charlie glanced away sighing. Ally understood his hesitation at thinking so negative, but she had let her guard down. She let herself think she was protected and it cost all of her friends and Marcus their lives. She would never assume things were safe again.

  “Charlie, do you know the things I did in order to survive this long? I changed my name, went through a painful procedure to change the color of my hair, my fingerprints were seared off, and a man in a rundown warehouse with a laser reserved for cataracts mashed up my retina. All of which did nothing but delay them from finding me at first. Then I met a man named Brian, I saved his life in a bar fight and he saved mine in return. For close to ten years I hid on the Betty Loo, piloting a submarine on search and rescue missions,” Ally said. “I thought saving lives might somehow undo all the damage I’d done in the past, by running away.”

  She looked at the sky, the smog-soaked clouds hung low tonight, perhaps it would rain. Rare as it might be, it did happen. Of course they would have to find cover in order to avoid the burning acid and noxious fumes.

  “I met a man a couple of years ago and without my permission he wiggled his way into my heart. We were going to get married and he died because of whatever was on The Peacemaker.”

  Charlie perked up. “I thought that sub was unsinkable, what the hell happened to it?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t go over with the others. From what I heard it was full of bodies, half eaten or decomposed. My guess, it was some sort of ground zero for the epidemic we have up here.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense, we’ve been having outbreaks for months,” Charlie said.

  “The submarine we went to help sent out their SOS months prior, and they were there to answer a distress call from a different sub. I collected a data stick from one of the spies sent to sabotage the mission. When I decrypted it I discovered the water the Russians had been hoarding for themselves and selling at bloated prices to other countries was infected with some sort of bacteria.”

  Ally grabbed Charlie’s arm and hopped out of the truck when it stopped at a light. She searched the area until she found an adequate vehicle for them to use. She smashed the DNA panel and waited. When no alarm went off she rewired it. Seconds later she flipped open the door and motioned for Charlie to do the same.

  The battery fully charged, but with no lead coating, she hoped they didn’t have far to drive. She rigged the ignition and in seconds they were off. Charlie told her what way to go and she drove, preparing to continue with her story.

  “The Russians held their find close to the chest, North Korea and Israel assumed they’d found an alternative fuel source. When something went wrong on the first sub, the first real outbreak, they sent The Peacemaker to check things out. What they discovered took mere days to overtake and infect the entire crew.”

  Ally took a deep breath to finish up, the hardest part of the story to tell. “They hired my captain to do a search and rescue, though what they were really after was the data so they could use it to blackmail the Russians is my guess. Problem was North Korea snuck a spy on board us, and someone hired Richards to plant a bomb on board.” Ally stared ahead a few moments, remembering the last moments on the Betty Loo.

  “We were taking on water and barely made it to the top, but it was too late. One of our crew was infected and brought aboard by the spy. After that everything went to hell. Everyone but me was infected by the time the bomb went off. I don’t know why I survived, wish I didn’t.”

  She saw Charlie turn in his seat and stare at her.

  “I’m glad you made it, I need all the help I can get. Not to mention the data chip you have might contain other information we could use.”

  “Doubt it, just that the infection is bacteria based. The zombies act as a colony of sorts, as the bacteria spreads through the host it eats the insides hollowing them out. Those are the really smelly ones. The problem is once the host dies, the bacteria looks for a new home. Bringing it up here was the biggest mistake ever made, it’s going to destroy what little life we have left up here.”

  “You mean to tell me you have proof the Russians knew what was happening and
didn’t do anything to prevent it? They brought this, whatever this is, up here and aren’t doing a damn thing about it?”

  Ally laughed. “Charlie, please tell me you’re not shocked by any of this. It’s not like firms have the best interest of their people at heart.”

  “But this is different, this is about the world. They can’t possibly be okay with everything dying. And I had my suspicions, various bits of intel but nothing definitive. With what you have we might be able to do something.”

  “Charlie, they think like all rich people do. They’re untouchable, this won’t come near them. Destroy the poor population and then some way, somehow it will all go away and they can go on living the high life.”

  “Damn firms, this is why I wish we could… well I just want to do more.”

  “Well, back on the compound I ran into… Marcus. I must have passed out or the explosives didn’t work. Someone boarded Betty Loo looking for the information I have. If it was the people who ‘rescued’ me, they claim to be working for an American firm.”

  Charlie laughed. “Impossible… we don’t have one.”

  Ally noticed the hesitation in Charlie’s voice, but didn’t comment. She knew they had a ways to go in the trust department, and she really wanted to find out what was on the data sticks she took from Richards as well as the ones Charlie had from Williams’s office.

  Her gut told her they were walking into a trap, and Charlie could not be trusted, and her instincts were always right. Killing him was not an option. She needed to maintain cover with him. Play along, the right moment would reveal itself. For now, act normal.

  “Charlie, grab my bag and take out the display panel. Stick in one of the data chips you have and see if you can decrypt it. If not we’ll switch places.”

  Five minutes later Charlie sat behind the wheel of the car and Ally was in the passenger seat cracking the security code to gain access to Russia’s secrets.

  * * *

  Brian got into the waiting news van and smirked at the camera operator as he used a rag to wipe blood off of his hands. His preparation paid off, the building was empty and the security team elsewhere spending their “bonus.”

  “Everything go as planned?”

  “Of course.” Brian smiled as he pulled out a gun and shot the man. His mission accomplished.

  With a tap he activated his implant and called his employer. “It’s done, Roark’s dead and I have all the condemning information needed on digital recorder,” he said as he placed it in the glove compartment.

  “Well done. Go to the drop off point. The money will be in your account within the hour.”

  A noise on his window caught Brian’s attention and he almost screamed when he turned and saw several zombies pawing the window for entrance.

  One stared right into his eyes and he realized the problem was a hell of a lot more serious than reported. He crawled over the dead body of his camera aide and struggled to remove it from the driver’s seat. He punched the starter and at the same moment glass shattered behind him.

  How the hell did they shatter the glass? They weren’t supposed to be strong. One stood in the road and he hit the accelerator. When the two impacted he thought he’d hit a tree. Something was different about these zombies, they were strong, and from their organization, smart.

  He backed up a bit and noticed the zombie he’d struck getting back up and running toward him. He pushed down on the accelerator and headed for his apartment. He’d stored enough food and fresh water to last him months in case this happened.

  On the way there the undead roamed the streets, dead bodies were either in the process of being torn apart or rising. Car accidents littered the roads, emergency lights flashed at every turn, and the military was taking a “shoot first and determine if a threat later” approach.

  Brian flipped his lights on and off hoping to get their attention since he needed to pass their roadblock to reach his apartment. A few shots whizzed by him before he ducked and aimed the car for the barricade.

  “Incompetent bastards, see how you like this.”

  A moment later he felt the crash as the van impacted with concrete. He smiled with grim satisfaction. A thought occurred to him and he tapped the implant in his head. When it connected he spoke two words: “It’s done.” He giggled a bit then pushed the door open and let himself fall out of the car.

  Zombies gorged on people as they screamed for help. Soldiers panicked, firing anywhere they heard noise, turning on one another. Brian stood and walked over to where the military who’d lost their nerve hid, ignoring all the curse words they screamed at him for ramming the wall and causing a breach.

  Brian climbed over it and had a sudden desire to bite the first soldier he saw and ripped off a chunk of exposed forearm. The man screamed and raised his gun, but Brain was faster and grabbed it out of his hands. With a bloody smile Brian leaned in once more, this time tearing out the neck. As the carotid artery tore blood sprayed everywhere.

  Something hit Brian on the head, he turned around to see who was bothering him and saw a pathetic little man. Brian struck out a fist putting it through the chest of the soldier. When he pulled it out the man’s heart beat once then stopped. Brian held it up to his mouth and swallowed it whole.

  The barricade, overrun by this time due to Brian putting a significant hole in the defences. These newly turned zombies were fast, strong, and in moments an army of the undead had been turned, all of them heading for the capital.

  A lone man off to the side watched everything with a careful eye. At first he was not sure what the reporter was doing then realized he must have been drinking the water. The mainstream public was not in the know, no matter how rich they were.

  He needed to get the recording, but would have to be patient. At the moment none of the zombies noticed him and he wanted to keep it that way. He settled into his seat and waited, patience was a virtue after all.

  Chapter Twelve—

  Ally tapped on the panel, her eyes popping out of her head with each new secret she uncovered.

  “Jesus, Charlie, you aren’t going to believe this.”

  “What? Tell me.”

  Ally enlarged two files in front of her and summarized them.

  “If what I’m reading is right, Williams knew about the problem with the water for almost a year. He was working on a vaccine to sell to the highest bidder. And get this, he wanted to see if he could train the zombies to be part of the military. His team of scientists created something called Unit 784. It escaped but predictions indicate it carries a superior version of the bacteria. Messages between him and Roark indicate they were using this as a way to decrease the world’s poor population.”

  “If we can get this into the right hands,” Charlie stuttered.

  “It wouldn’t make a difference and you know it. Plus, you haven’t heard the rest.”

  Ally read about the cover-ups of outbreaks, the shipping of water to other nations in order to contaminate crops to see how far the effects of the bacteria could spread. She read of Roark’s joy at the thought of fewer mouths to feed, and the amount she could raise taxes on those left over. Williams showed no regard for the deaths and also planned to capitalize on them. Erdman was left out of the loop.

  “Hey, what else is in there?” Charlie asked.

  Ally glanced at him, unsure when she had stopped talking. She read the report about the Betty Loo, and how someone sent Richards’s men to set the explosives. She read about how when the homing beacon went off, this same person demanded the team finish their task.

  They arrived and found two zombies, weakened and easy to wrangle into a special hold. They set a timer on the explosives and sunk the submarine, but not before taking a body count. As soon as Richards realized there was a survivor he took it upon himself to give the ship captain a side mission while he conducted his business on land.

  Ally felt sick to her stomach. They made Marcus suffer. She felt like she’d lost him all over again. Charlie sensed how she fel
t because he didn’t ask her anything. They sat in companionable silence.

  The data sticks could wait. She needed to wrap her head around the new world around her if she planned on living out the night.

  * * *

  He waited for them to arrive. His boss would be pleased. In a few hours the two troublemakers would be back in custody and he could stop with the annoying charade of giving a damn about others.

  For years he’d been among Charlie’s chosen few. The guy was so trusting it bordered on pathetic.

  Richards was the future, he was the one who could change things and bring the United States back up to their proper place. When Charlie approached him five years ago with his plan, it was his duty to tell Richards.

  Instead of getting a promotion he was told to go along with it, spy. At first he was angry, questioned why he was being punished. After a few months he understood what an important role he played. He stopped, or at least stalled the progress of Charlie’s mini-army.

  He smiled as he thought about the upcoming confrontation. Then again, as of late Charlie had been wary of him, it might not be the surprise he was hoping it to be. He crouched down when a set of headlights pulled up.

  * * *

  Richards put his hand on a DNA scanner. A large metal door rolled aside and let him into a storage area. He pulled the truck forward and made his way to the section with his container. He turned off the engine and pulled out the magnetic lock opener.

  Getting out of the vehicle, he saw bodies strewn around the grounds, parts of them missing or gnawed on. When he reached the big metallic box and inserted the key, the latch undid letting out a blast of rancid air.

  He grabbed the small pistol from the holster on his side and looked around. The distinct sound of shuffling echoed around the confined space. Every noise caused him to look around. Skeletal hands wrapped themselves around his neck. He reached up out of instinct and was able to free himself of the weak grip. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and the insignia of his group caught his eye, the body far too decayed to identify. In a smooth motion he swept the legs out from the thing and when it hit the ground he used his boot to crush the skull.