Z-Boat (Book 2): Z-Topia
Page 17
“So, Janelle, where did you learn to handle yourself like that?”
Swiveling her body in the bucket seat so her back was to the door, she brought up her knees and deceptively strong arms wrapped around them.
“My brother, he took care of me after our dad died.”
Dale checked the gadgets in front of him as if he had a clue what he was doing. When he felt confident the auto-drive wouldn’t kill them he mimicked her position.
“What about your mom?”
Janelle blew out a breath then her story tumbled out. “She left when I was born. The stress of two kids, sharing an apartment with three other families, and working two jobs was too much for her.”
Dale watched her stare at the console between them remembering something from long ago, from the expression on her face, it wasn’t a nice memory.
“Anyways, after she took off my dad went loopy. Drank all the time, beat on my brother, and then when he came after me, Kirk, my brother, flipped out and tossed him out the window of the place we were living, it was the forty-seventh floor. Afterwards Kirk and I were on our own, did pretty well I think.”
Janelle turned her face up and bored her eyes into his as she continued to speak. “No man has ever had his way with me without permission, those who’ve tried, never will again. I can read and write, and know how to protect myself better than you.”
Dale smiled, a new respect for the young woman developed, but he still didn’t know what to do with her. She would be an asset to his team. He could use her as the link between him and the average people, the poor who made up the majority. With her on his side he could manipulate an entire planet into believing he was more than a suit, that he actually gave a damn about the little people.
“Stick with me and I’ll make sure you don’t beg for scraps ever again. We’re going to change the world.”
“Only if there’s a world left to change. These zombies seem to be a bigger problem than the media lets on.”
He saw the shrewd look of her face as she directed the last part of the comment at him. Perfect, not only good looking, but smart as well.
“There will be. I have an army at my command. They’ll take care of the epidemic here. Then, when we’re safe and have built up our numbers, we’ll rally independent forces in other countries and help them.”
Janelle laughed. “Do you really think that’s going to work? You’re supposed to be a politician, meaning you know when things are going to hell. Take a look around, we’re there.”
“You’re a smart girl—woman, sorry—but there are forces at work you know nothing about.”
“Like what? Aliens? Or how about some random disease infecting people and turning them into zombies, at the exact moment all leaders are taken down? Wait, I bet it’s that the world is so over populated this illness is being used as a way to cull the herd. Fewer mouths to feed means less pressure on resources. Am I getting close?”
Dale didn’t answer her, which he knew would be enough of one. Instead, he took out his display unit to see what was going on. He might not have liked what she said but the fact far more people were infected than first anticipated bothered him. The girl’s knowledge of the firm’s plan also worried him, if she put it together how many others came to the same conclusion?
Chapter Seventeen—
Ally reloaded her weapon and grabbed three extra magazines. They tried calling into the station but were put into an endless forwarding loop. Richards, Hunter, Trevor, and Joseph readied themselves to move out. Ally told Hank to stay with the vehicles in case any survivors saw them as easy looting.
Using thermal imaging on her binoculars once again she confirmed there were at least a dozen people in the building. No obvious movement in areas at room temperature, though that didn’t mean anything.
Ally led the group, each of them wearing a set of glasses, except Joseph, to the front of the building weaving her way through car wrecks, and corpses. When they were within ninety feet of the structure she stopped and absorbed as much as she could.
Old training came back in waves and she checked the roof and upper windows for snipers. She investigated the ground to make sure no traps had been set, and made sure they weren’t about to be ambushed by zombies. From the piles of rotten flesh by the front door it appeared as if others attempted to get to the building seeking safety and didn’t make it.
What killed them? There were no burn marks or bullet holes. No bite marks. The level of decay varied, which meant they died at different times. Then she noticed the heads, or lack of. Something about the scene caused the hair on her neck to stand on end and she decided to proceed with extreme caution.
“Hunter, I don’t like what’s up ahead. I’ll take Richards and see if there’s a back way into this place.”
Joseph grabbed her arm but let go when she glared at him.
“What’s wrong with the front way? Just go in. We don’t have the time to waste.”
“Richards claims there aren’t any loyalists to Allgood here, but taking a look at what’s left of this town they’re at war. I’m not going to get my head blown off if I can avoid it. The people here are so damn scared that anything moving is going to get shot.”
Ally rounded back about thirty feet and went down an alleyway on the right side of the building. The right side connected to another building that went past the quarantine gate. As they moved closer to the building Richards’s steps grew faint behind her.
“You need to keep up. I don’t have time for whatever—”
A shot hit the wall next to her head and she dived for cover. The bastard was trying to kill her now? How did that make any sense? Then she saw it, a small shadow skittered in the darkness. Whatever it was she didn’t have time to aim let alone shoot.
Across the alley Richards positioned himself so his gun was aimed at the pile of trash next to her. She felt something crawl over her leg and revulsion caused her to shake it off. A snake slithered away.
A sharp pain in her side made her yell out, and Richards called to her.
“I can’t get a clear shot, take it out!”
Ally glanced down at her side, the feeling of her ribs breaking caused black dots to dance in her vision. A head covered in tangled and matted fur shook back and forth. The protective vest she wore prevented sharp teeth from piercing her skin, but not the pain. She brought her gun over and fired.
When she took a breath the air in her lungs burned. Damn that hurt. Forcing herself to stand on her own she checked over the area on her vest to make sure she wasn’t infected. Richards helped and even sprayed something to kill the bacteria squirming around on her.
“Thanks.”
“Let’s get going.”
As the two continued to find a rear entrance, Ally thought about the fact that Richards was trying hard to earn a place as one of the people she trusted. She’d need to be more careful. Her time on the Betty Loo made her soft. She fell for Charlie’s deception, and wouldn’t let it happen again.
There were no more dead bodies, and other than the infected dog there’d been no other signs of trouble. At the end of the alley they found a door. Bloody handprints and smeared gore dried some time ago.
Reaching out she tried the handle unsurprised to find it locked. She knocked three times, then twice, then another four times. Hoping those inside would notice the pattern, something the zombies weren’t capable of.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Get the hell away from here,” a voice from above hissed.
Ally moved back and peered up at the individual. A woman with a haggard expression, stringy brown hair, and a bruised face stared down at them.
“We need to get inside and use your network satellite. We have someone important with us, he’ll help calm people down.”
“You don’t get it, get out of here or you’ll die. Don’t matter who you got with you, no one’s listening anymore. That Allgood feller riled everyone up, got people to tear down barriers and now the world’s gone to hell.�
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Ally noticed the woman look at something behind her. When she returned her gaze to them she made a shooing motion with her hand and closed the window. Seconds later a man appeared and smiled, it was not welcoming.
The door opened and three large men armed with rapid fire MGs pulled Ally and Richards inside.
Ally shook loose of the grip one of the ape men had on her and was about to say something when she caught Richards shaking his head. With a sigh she let herself be tugged to a door that slid open as they were shoved inside.
She expected it to be some sort of holding area, but instead it was just an office. Nothing scary or threatening, except multiple zombie heads on spikes around the room. The ambiance gave her the impression the studio producer either lost his mind, or had been replaced.
A creaky chair swiveled and they were face to face with a dirty, pale man who wore a string of thumbs around his neck. The glint in his eyes, the sheen of sweat on his face, and the slight tremor of his hands let Ally know the bacteria seeped into his system and any moment he’d freak out and try to eat them. Being fresh it would be one hell of a fight.
She fought the instinct to finger the trigger of her gun, then again she had to wonder why they weren’t disarmed. These men didn’t see them as a threat, or at least their weapons. She wondered how deficient they’d become. She’d heard stories, rumors about sailors lost at sea and turning into cannibals. She didn’t know if it was possible for people to lose their minds at this fast pace, then again a couple of months ago if someone told her zombies existed she would have laughed.
No time for this shit, she thought. They needed to do what they came for and then get the hell out of town.
“Look, we need to use the satellite for a few minutes and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
The man laughed at her. “Out of my hair you say? That’s funny.” He raised his hand and pulled clumps of his locks out with the scalp still attached in places.
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant, I’m not an idiot. Why should I give you airtime? Right now I’m letting the boys have fun doing a show on how to skin these things and use their hides.”
Ally’s skin crawled as the man continued to absently pull his hair out. They’d been tossed in here to take care of the issue. His employees knew what was happening, or were just as whacked as him. Either way it didn’t bode well for she and Richards.
A scream erupted from the hallway, the man continued to pull out greasy strands. Ally and Richards pulled their weapons and faced the door, it swung open with such force the hinges bent and creaked at the abuse. A grotesque thing lumbered into the room, a zombie the likes of which Ally had never seen.
Both shot at it but their bullets bounced off its skull. All they did was manage to put small divots in the skin, removing bits of scalp. The man behind them chuckled and cried out. “A challenge. Come here you bastard!”
The hair-pulling man launched himself through the air at the giant and with one wave of its arm the giant snapped the man’s neck. Ally watched him fall to the floor like a sack of rations. Richards hadn’t stopped firing and a machete whizzed by her head.
“Try using that, let us know if you kill it,” a disembodied voice yelled.
The words were drowned out by gunfire. Ally ran to where the machete fell and picked it up. Bits of bone and a red, tacky substance she knew all too well covered it. She remembered they were skinning zombies in the front and her stomach tightened.
Wiping the weapon on the vacated seat she glanced up to see the giant heading toward Richards. Something about it was different, not the size, or its determination. No, this one was impervious to bullets. This one had been modified.
When it could not see her she snuck up on it from behind and hacked at its neck. The weapon lodged itself about three inches in, but did no real damage. The zombie turned, punching her in the gut with such force she was lifted two feet off the ground. Another broken rib for sure, she thought when she heard the crack.
“What the hell is this thing? Are they giving them steroids?”
When Ally’s feet were back on the ground she found herself back in the air seconds later, a greasy hand slipped around her neck. She tried to claw her way free, the eyes of the thing choking the life out of her scared her more than anything else ever had.
She saw the machete move, then reappear through the throat in front of her. She fell to the ground as it turned to see to the greater threat. For some reason she knew this zombie was not only harder to kill, but had a more developed thought process. The whole thing stank of firm experimentation.
Richards screamed as his left arm was broken with a sickening snap. Ally ran down their list of options. Guns didn’t work, nor sharp implements. The only option was to slow it down some way. She remembered the slick feel of the hand around her neck and wondered if the rest of its body was as slime covered.
“Get down!”
Richards hit the ground and Ally let out several hundred rounds aimed at the mid-section of the giant. Organs and other unidentifiable viscera spilled out. The smell of infection and pus filled the air as it toppled over, the spine cracking sounded like thunder.
Ally eased her finger off the trigger and almost laughed when it pulled itself toward her using bony fingers. The scratching noise the tips of bone made on the floor caused her to shiver. Whatever infected this thing strengthened the bone, but the flesh was still vulnerable to the process of decay, for now. Something insider her told her it was still evolving.
She wondered if there were others like this one and decided their best bet, if they survived, was to round up the others and tie up any who liked to wear necklaces or skin zombies. The amount of bodily fluids they came into contact with was how they’d been contaminated.
Stupid bastards.
Richards walked over, his arm cradled by his right hand. When she made eye contact with him she knew what needed to happen. First things first.
Stepping around the mutation she grabbed a length of wire from a utility box of some kind. After she finished the giant was tethered to the desk, both hands tied behind its back, after she dislocated the shoulders and smashed its pelvis. She attempted to ram a knife into one of its eye sockets or ears several times, but it moved too fast, anticipating her intentions. She gave up for the time being, Richards needed his arm set.
“You know this is going to hurt?”
“Just do it.”
Ally felt along his arm, relieved the break was clean. She pulled a bottle out of one of her pants pockets and popped a pill into her palm.
“Chew it.”
Richards did as he was told, and Ally waited for the Morphoid to take effect. A minute later, his pupils dilated and muscles slackened, it was time. She yanked on the arm, re-aligning the bones, then wrapped it with some binding from the medi-pack, all the while he screamed. She wondered if the medication was old, and made a mental note to check later.
“Okay, we’re done here. We need to go out there and gather everyone together. People who’ve been in contact with the zombies need to be quarantined. Then we need to find someone who knows how to operate the signal board.”
Ally exited the room gun raised and ready to shoot. Faces peered at her around corners, a few people came out with hands raised. The smell nauseated her, rot and decomposition were tangible and tears formed in her eyes from the odor.
“Anyone who can hear me, move to the center of the main room ahead. If you choose not to go there I’ll assume you’re beyond reason and kill you.”
The shuffle of several feet alerted her to people doing as they were told. She pulled down the bio-scanner once more and saw all the live bodies were where she told them to go, aside from a few upstairs.
“Richards, go get the people from the second floor and bring them down. I’m going to clear the rooms down here.”
“You get them,” he said in a slurred voice.
Ally stopped her progress and turned to face him. “Okay, the
n you make sure none of what we just encountered has friends, since the bastards are basically bathing in the bacteria I figure the chances of running into another one are good. Good luck with the broken arm.”
Ally kicked open a door with an image of stairs on it and went up ignoring Richards sputtering behind her.
* * *
Richards hated his life at times. No matter what happened he always ended up with the crap end of the stick. This was no different. He’d had enough of being ordered around by Ally, not because he hated her, but because he knew she was smarter than him. Now his attitude had him doing something she wanted to protect him from.
What was her agenda? For the life of him he couldn’t figure it out. He knew the world had gone tits up, and part of it was his fault. If he was honest with himself he had no idea who to trust anymore, except Ally. The irony was not lost on him.
He checked his gun and put in a new magazine then made his way to the center of the room. A dozen or so people were hunkered down in the middle. Pointing to three men holding machetes and wearing necklaces made up of an interesting assortment of body parts, he motioned them to the side.
He examined the others. “Which of you were helping with the skinning process?”
Two young men raised their hands with proud smiles, and Richards tilted his head for them to join the others he separated from the group. Five people remained and they wore terrified expressions, for the most part clean.
“You, go get some wires, rope, whatever you have to secure things.” He pointed to a middle aged man who seemed the most relaxed given the circumstances.
Richards chose his words with care, no need to let the seven on his right know they were going to be tied up. When Ally came down, he would have to lie to her about checking the rooms. No way was he stupid enough to take on another one without backup, even then he would take a pass.
A few moments later the man returned with a box full of things he could use. Now he needed to wait for Ally. Gunfire sounded on the second floor. Damn.