Z-Boat (Book 3): Z-End

by Robb, Suzanne

  "Christ, they've been like this since the beginning," Emma said.

  Ally went into the service area and came out with a bottle of clear water. "It looks that way, check this out." She held up the item in her hand. "They were probably infected with a high dose of the bacteria on the way over."

  "Cockpit's empty, but one hell of a fight went down in there," Doug said.

  Ally grabbed the small suitcases from the top shelf and handed them back. They'd go through them later. The middle and aft sections of the plane were empty of whatever cargo had been sent over.

  "Whoever took the stuff had to go by them…" Emma looked back and forth.

  Ally shook her head. "No, they probably unloaded it from the rear. More efficient."

  The zombies sat still in their seats, their heads now crushed. She looked at the people with her. "Good work."

  The second plane was the same as the first. Ally stepped off with a sigh, knowing they had to open the gate to the larger hangar. Without power, all of them would need to put their weight into in. She lifted the metal rods out of the floor and lifted the bar in the center. Four sets of hands reached around the lever and pulled. A loud screech and the door moved an inch. Another screech, another inch.

  "Jesus, can't we oil it or something?" Caleb said.

  "If you can find something, go ahead," Ally said as she continued to pull.

  Gunshots. Ally searched for Caleb, thinking he's run into trouble, and too late she saw the hand reach through the narrow opening and latch onto her.

  "Help get this goddamn door open." Steve yelled.

  Ally heard the terror in his voice and yanked with everything she had. The others joined in and soon between the gunshots and screeching Steve and his group were surrounded. Someone had dragged the ladder over and was trying to provide cover, but Ally guessed they were dealing with the survivors because the barrel of the weapon was moving all over the place.

  A woman struggled at Ally's feet, a girl, really. Too shocked to do anything but stare, she realized the girl was alive.

  "Shit, we got a live one down here," Ally said.

  Emma took hold of the woman's wrists and pulled. As soon as her feet were clear another head popped into view. This time a man, and Ally knew there was no way he was going to fit.

  "Please, open the door," he begged.

  Ally focused her energy on pulling. Hot casings rained down on her. Screams from Steve's side raised goose bumps on her skin. The gates separated with a lurch and two men fell to the ground. Steve ran backward while firing.

  "Shut it!" he yelled.

  Ally and the others fired on the approaching survivors. A few zombies straggled into the mix and were taken down. Calls of "I'm out" echoed and three people ran to the gate to try and close it. The young girl who crawled through the gate tossed something then plugged her ears.

  "Grenade!"

  The building shook, what few windows remained shattering, and bodies flew in every direction. Ally felt a burning pain on her thigh and the impact of hitting the ground jarred her injured shoulder.

  "Help," Emma called out.

  Ally forced her weapon up and tried to locate her. Smoke stung her eyes and bright flames made it difficult to see. A survivor crawled toward her and she put a bullet in its head, the rifle falling out of her hand.

  "Oh God, please help..."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  "Emma, where are you?" Ally forced herself to her knees, gripping her Glock, blood running in a thin stream down her leg.

  The gunfire stopped, but the screaming didn't. Ally found Emma pinned under one of the survivors. Ally raised her shaky arms and unloaded half a dozen bullets, sighing when one hit its mark. Emma pushed the slumped body off and rolled to her side. Ally turned on her knees seeing if anyone else needed help. She looked over to Emma.

  "You okay?"

  "Fine, just a few scratches."

  Ally stood and helped her up, then caught sight of the young girl who'd tossed the grenade. She ambled toward her. The girl lay in a pool of blood and knowing what would happen, Ally still put a hand on shoulder and pulled. Insides were left on the floor, her hands were coated in red, and her face was contorted in pain.

  "Did we get 'em?" the girl asked in a weak voice.

  "Yeah, you did great," Ally said, but her comment fell on dead ears.

  Emma stuck out a hand, but Ally ignored it. She moved away from the body and gripped the piece of shrapnel in her thigh. She gritted her teeth and howled as she pulled. Emma unzipped a pocket on her vest and started to wrap a bandage around her leg. Ally swatted at her hands but the girl shook her head.

  "Your hands are filthy, let me do this."

  When Emma finished, Ally crept toward the twisted metal that used to be the gate and moved in step with Steve. Caleb laid on the floor to her left, a gash across his forehead. She didn't check for a pulse, there were two fresh trails of blood to follow.

  "Doug, see if you can round up Slip, Liv and Joe. When you do, join us."

  "They're from my team. It was dark…they came at us." Steve reloaded his pistol starting at the blood trails.

  "You did what you could. I hope you found something at the clinic, because we're going to need it," she said, clutching her leg.

  "We got a few bags of things, nothing to hold us over for any length of time. Let's finish cleaning this place up. Why is Joe with you? Isn't he one of the guys who took off with Jason?"

  "Yeah, they decided to pick a fight with us. Got themselves taken prisoner."

  Ally followed the smears on the left for twenty feet then turned a corner and continued for another thirty. A maintenance door sat ajar and inside she heard a zombie enjoying its meal. Kicking the door open, she fired at the ghoul's head and then put one in the poor soul on the floor.

  Backing up, she caught sight of a metal box on the back wall. She staggered over to it and broke the lock with the butt of her weapon. Two switches sat inside. She hit them, and hangar lights went on, as did several machines.

  She walked back, watching the gate sliding back and forth a few inches on its broken track. Diagnostic screens lit up next to four strange-looking planes.

  "What the hell are those?" Ally pointed them out to Emma.

  "No idea."

  "We need Steve." She marched off in the direction she last saw him.

  With the lights glaring overhead, the hangar seemed less foreboding, but told a gruesome story. The survivors they'd killed wore ragged mechanic's uniforms covered in grease and blood. Scratches marred their bodies and faces. Ally noticed they were deformed. Their legs bent slightly backward at the knee and their spines jutted out.

  Steve was bent over the body of someone. He glanced up at her and used his knife to cut the man's head off.

  "I need to know everything about the planes in this hangar."

  He wiped his blade off on the front shirt of the body on the floor. "Are we sure there's no one else in here with us?"

  Ally tilted her head toward Emma, who knew what was being asked.

  "I'll get Doug and Slip to check with me," Emma said.

  "I think we're fine. Looks like when everything went down they initiated some sort of containment procedure. Large buildings like this were locked from the outside to keep people inside. We met the survivors who did that earlier."

  The two walked toward the second plane from the right. It was the only one with the side door open and the ladder down. She put a hand on Steve's arm.

  "So, about the planes? I know they're Firm and nothing good came from them."

  Steve stared at the floor, then closed his eyes and sighed. "They were used when the outbreak first started. I don't know a lot, only whispers and rumors. The Russian Firm was the first to know they'd fucked up. Of course, it didn't take long for the others to figure it out."

  Ally followed Steve as he climbed the ladder.

  "They loaded the best and brightest on twelve planes. Specific locations were given out in sets of three when they
were airborne."

  Ally noticed the aircraft design was odd, the entrance through the cockpit. One pilot sat in his seat, dead. She poked him a few times, not wanting to have him creep up on her from behind.

  "He's dead, don't worry," Steve said.

  "Yeah, I'm still going to check. You said sets of three, but there are four planes here."

  Steve slid open the small door and entered a utilitarian kitchen. Broken bottles covered the floor and the food had long ago reached its peak use-by date. Ally checked a few drawers and came up with nothing.

  "Like I said, I don't know all the facts. I'm telling you what I do know. After the pilots reached the coordinates sent to them, they were to unload their passengers and transfer them to a safe house. They carried a cargo of basic necessities and...a few other things.

  "Those other things are…well I think they're what changed the people here."

  Ally moved ahead of Steve when she saw him stop in the doorway to the passenger cabin. Rows of seats lined the sides of the plane, facing inward. A second and third row went to the center. A few carry-ons stuck out and Ally collected them in a pile while Steve stood silent.

  "Okay, are you done talking? I've given you several minutes to get your shit together, and quite frankly you're freaking me out. What the hell do you mean the other stuff changed the people here."

  Steve indicated the door to the cargo bay. Ally reached for the handle, but there wasn't one. A wall panel awaited authorization from the right set of palm prints and DNA. She held up a finger and ran to the cabin. When she returned with the hand of the captain, Steve raised an eyebrow.

  "He doesn't mind."

  The computer accepted the hand. The cargo hold lights flickered on. Most of the space was empty, but a few areas still had the circular pattern of large canisters.

  "Are these what were in the smaller hangar? With the mutated people?" she asked.

  "Probably. What these poor bastards didn't know was they were loose ends. People who'd worked on the project that led to contaminating billions of people in the name of greed, or those who helped cover it up. These planes have been sitting here for months, the people on board drinking that toxic milkshake meant to kill them before the plane ever landed."

  Ally knelt by a canister and knocked on the side. A dull sound, still full. Something didn't sit right with her.

  "I don't buy it. If these planes were full of the brains of the Firms would they be stupid enough to think their bosses wanted them safe? Would they actually think these canisters were full of water?"

  Steve shrugged. "Firm guards can be persuasive."

  "Not that persuasive. The passengers were smart, they knew something was up…they would have taken precautions."

  Ally ran for one of the carry-on bags and emptied it out. Two empty vials clattered to the ground and an injector. The inside of the needle was warped and when Ally hit the trigger the metal point melted.

  "What the hell is that?"

  Ally dropped the items. "My guess, something they thought would counter the effects of the bacteria."

  Steve leaned over the first row of seats and used his sleeve to clean a window.

  "You think the other planes still have their passengers on board? Their doors are closed." she said.

  He pursed his lips. "Maybe whatever they planned took some time. When the people on the ground opened this one up things could have gone to hell fast, not leaving them time to get to the others."

  Ally took over his train of thought. "Who knows what they put into their bodies, and then mixing it with the bacteria. God, what the hell would a bite from one of them pass on? Jesus, this is a mess."

  Steve exited the plane. Ally waited a moment, feeling like she was missing something. Nothing jumped out at her, the cabin was clean, the cargo area half-emptied, the…and then it hit her.

  "Hey," she said chasing after Steve. "The plane's clean."

  He looked at her, waiting for more.

  "The other planes in the south section of this hangar. They were cargo-only with a small number of passengers, but they were totally cleaned out, not a scrap of anything useful left inside. The cabin was full, everybody waiting in their seats."

  Steve looked from the open plane to the ones with closed doors. "And this one had most of its cargo removed, and an empty cabin…so it took time for them to change. Enough time for the people living here to have some water and then lock themselves away from what they saw as monsters."

  "I think the quicker we get off this island the better."

  "No shit," he said.

  Ally gathered everyone near the side entrance of the building Steve used to enter. He'd torn a hole in the side using abandoned tools when the gate wouldn't budge.

  "Okay, there's nine of us so we're taking a vote. We can stay here for the night or try and meet up with the others."

  "I'm tired," Caleb said and walked toward the corner.

  "I'm not done. If we choose to stay here, you should know there are zombies on the loose, as well as some sort of thing that can withstand a zombie bite, but still wants to kill you. On top of that, Jason and his goons are out there and probably trying to find a way to get back on the barge."

  Ally waited, examining her hand while she did so. Earlier she'd been cut by one of the survivors and now she wondered how long it took for their particular brand of infection to spread.

  "The three planes behind me might be full of those fast-moving sons of bitches we're having a hell of a time killing, but go ahead, take your time."

  "Let's get the hell out of here, then. Why didn't you say the others were in trouble?" Caleb said, marching out into the night.

  Ally had to chuckle. They stayed in a tight group, no more than three feet between them, with weapons at the ready, except for Joe. Ally remembered the gunshots from earlier.

  "Steve, did you and your guys get into a situation earlier? We heard shots to the southeast."

  He motioned Caleb and another man to take lead. "We didn't fire our weapons until we came here."

  "What about the barracks, were you there at all? Turn on the lights?"

  "No, we came straight here when we saw the sign you left for us."

  "Then we need to get back to the barge."

  The rest of the journey was filled with tension. Too dark for shadows, but everyone still saw things moving. Ally's leg throbbed and her stomach rumbled. They'd hoped to find supplies while they were out; no, they'd counted on it. This place was supposed to be secure and full of Firm staff. Instead, they walked into a horror show.

  After an hour of going from dark to darker, they arrived at the barge pier. The muzzle flares were like fireworks. Ally sprinted to help, unable to think of anything happening to Kevin or Sean.

  When she reached the edge, four bodies lay on the ground. Kevin stood over them, a look of pure anger on his face. She'd seen it before and remembered she'd wanted to ask him about it, but now wasn't the time.

  He raised a Jericho and she halted. "It's me, it's Ally."

  "What? They told me you were dead. They said they blew your head off. They said…"

  She took a few steps then stopped when he didn't lower the weapon. "Kevin, they lied, alright? They lied. They wanted to take the barge."

  He scratched his head with the tip of the gun, and then in a nervous fit, shot the dead men one more time each. Ally kept her hands up and took a step back. Tears formed in her eyes. She'd seen too many people fall victim to the prolonged stress of the End of Days, Kevin couldn’t be one of them.

  "Talk to me, Kevin. I'm right here. Not dead. Right in front of you." She heard steps behind her and wondered how much of the exchange the others heard.

  "Ally?"

  She didn't need more prompting. He fell to his knees and she wrapped her arms around him. Steve and Caleb came forward first. They dragged the bodies out of sight. When they walked by, Ally nodded her thanks. Steve mouthed the words, "We need to talk."

  The clatter of the weapon falling on th
e metal pier and Kevin's hands moving on her body let her know he was coming back to himself. She pushed the weapon out of his reach and tried to stop his hands.

  "Hey, you okay?"

  He didn't say anything, but kept checking her wounds. When he felt the bandage on her leg, the one she knew was damp with blood, he froze.

  "What happened? Who did this to you?"

  She used her left hand to lift his chin. "No one did this to me, it was an accident."

  "We need to get it looked after before infection can set in." He rose and led her up the gangplank.

  He kept her hand in an iron grip as they made their way to the lower section where they slept. Mumbled words came out of his mouth when he pushed her into a sitting position and sat on the floor.

  "I need to take this off."

  Ally flinched when he grabbed a pair of scissors, but she didn't say anything. Sean and Amy were sleeping on thin mats to the side. Kevin slid one end of the scissors under the bandage on her thigh and snipped. It fell to the side and she got her first good look at the injury.

  "I need to clean it out."

  With jerky motions, he made the slit in her pants larger and cleaned the wound with disinfectant powder. When it finished fizzing and popping, he wiped the pink froth away with a rag.

  "I need to staple this up."

  She worried at his robotic tone and the fact he hadn't glanced at her face once. She heard the click of the device and felt the tip of the metal pierce her skin then cinch together. Her fingers clutched at the blanket beneath her as the process continued seven more times.

  "I need to find you a new pair of pants." He rose and started to walk away.

  Ally reached out and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. "Hey, sit with me for a minute. These pants aren't going to kill me."

  His body went rigid. She stroked his back a few times in a soothing manner. "Come on, please."

  When he sat next to her she entwined her fingers with his and stared at him until he looked at her. "Thanks for taking care of my leg."