Serial Killer Z [Book 1]

by Philip Harris

  I smiled along with their laughter, but my stomach was twisting into knots. I didn’t want Alex wandering around the forest on his own.

  “Do you need any help?” I said. “With the fish, I mean.”

  “No, no. I’m good. Thanks, though.”

  “It might be safer with two of us.”

  Alex wrinkled his nose. “Nah, it’s fine. Mike, you take it easy. Luce, look after him, okay?”

  Lucy smiled.

  “You just get us some fish,” Mike said.

  Alex left the lodge. We could hear him whistling the dwarfs’ song from Snow White as he walked across the camp toward the river. Through the window, I watched him go.

  “I’m going to let you get some rest,” I said, as soon as Alex was out of sight. “I have some traps out in the forest that I should check. Maybe there’ll be some rabbit to go with the fish.”

  “That would be great,” Mike said.

  “Okay then, I’ll be an hour or so. I’ll watch my backside,” I said, trying to smile. Mike returned the joke with a broad grin, but Lucy’s mouth barely moved.

  I headed into the kitchen, put a couple of energy bars in my pocket, and grabbed a bottle of water. When I got outside, I hesitated. Yesterday morning I’d been happy and relaxed. Now I was tense, nervous. My stomach was still twisted up, and my throat was dry. I could feel the muscles taut across my shoulders, and my back was tight. It was all because of these people. Especially Lucy. She didn’t trust me, and it was upsetting the equilibrium I’d built over the last couple of months.

  Why had I said I’d be gone for so long? I did have a couple of traps, but they wouldn’t take long to check. I’d have to find somewhere to hide in the forest.

  The shadow writhed inside me, talking to me and planting ideas. The workshop would solve that problem. I could escape, find a zombie, and restore my balance. No, it was too dangerous with the intruders here.

  Plates clattered in the kitchen behind me. Lucy was standing in the window. I waved at her and set off across the grass, picking the corner farthest away from the path to the workshop.

  As soon as I got out of sight of the lodge, I moved east, around the camp. It was tough going, making my way through the undergrowth. I had my knife, but it was too small to cut through the vines and bushes that clogged the ground. Twice I had to backtrack and pick a different route. I didn’t really know where I was going until I reached the river.

  There was no sign of Alex. He’d been lying; he was probably back at the camp with Lucy and Mike. They’d be going through my things, looking for evidence to confirm their suspicions. Ice-cold fear flooded my system. The world swam around me. I had to close my eyes and lean against a tree.

  I counted to sixteen then took a deep breath and opened my eyes. I decided to check the river before I went back to the camp. Alex might be farther upstream. Or downstream. I picked my way along the tree line, staying a few feet inside the forest so that I was always in shadow.

  I went upstream for no other reason than it was easier. It turned out to be the right choice. Alex was around a bend, about a hundred feet from the trail to the camp. At some point, he’d ducked completely under the water because his hair was wet and hung around his shoulders like seaweed. He’d found a spot where the water was slow and waded out until it was waist height. He was standing, bent over, hands plunged deep into the water.

  Alex stood there, not moving for several minutes, then swept his hands together and scooped them out of the water. If he’d been trying to catch a fish, he’d failed. Then he stuck his arms into the river and went back to standing still.

  He repeated the process four or five times. Each time he came up empty-handed. He didn’t seem concerned about standing there in the open, and I wondered how he’d react if a zombie came out of the water at him. I’d seen zombies trying to cross rivers before. They’d been swept away by the current, ending up who knew where. Alex might grab at something passing between his hands, only to find it was the still living remains of a human being, not a fish. He’d react too slowly, and it would be on him, tearing out his throat before he had a chance to get away.

  But there were more disturbing scenarios, too. What if the helicopter came back? Alex seemed to have bought my story, but I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t try to flag them down. If the machine gun was manned, Alex might see they were wearing uniforms, and he’d know I was lying.

  He plunged his hands into the river once more, but they came back out empty.

  A voice whispered in my ear. He was exposed, vulnerable. Anything could happen to him out here. It was a perfect opportunity for me to take the first step toward reclaiming the camp as my own.

  I pressed my hand against the hilt of my knife. The shadow rose up. The edges of the forest receded, seeming to draw away to give me room to approach Alex.

  My knife was in my hand, and I’d taken a couple of steps toward the river before I realized and stopped myself. I closed my eyes and counted to four, listening to the river and willing it to wash away the shadow.

  Beneath the rushing water, I could hear the pounding of a heart. Whether it was mine or Alex’s, I couldn’t tell. The knife was weightless in my hand. It felt right. That was where it belonged. I counted to four again, breathing deeply. This wasn’t the time. Even if I could get to Alex, the shadow would leave me exposed. If Lucy or Mike came looking for him, they’d find me at my most vulnerable. Another breath, another count of four.

  The shadow loosened its grip.

  When I opened my eyes again, the knife felt heavier. It was awkward, like it was too big for my hand. I took four deliberate steps back, deeper into the forest, and slipped the knife into its sheath. A shudder ran up my spine, my hands were shaking, and my stomach churned uneasily—parting gifts from the shadow.

  Alex leaned back, stretching his arms, and glanced over his shoulder. I froze, suddenly sure he’d be able to see me. But his eyes passed over my hiding place without registering my presence. He returned his arms to the river. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  It looked like Alex really was just trying to catch some fish. He hadn’t been using it as a cover for checking out the workshop. Unless… I thought back to the morning’s events. Had Alex spent time with Lucy and Mike? Had he told them about the path?

  My heart stuttered, and a sick feeling washed through my stomach. He didn’t need to have told her. She’d seen us. I’d stopped Alex going into the forest by distracting him with talk about the perimeter, and she’d been watching me. The fishing wasn’t the distraction; Alex was.

  I backed farther into the forest as quickly as I dared. As soon as I was out of earshot, I turned and ran toward the lodge.

  Chapter 21

  An Interrogation

  When I broke out of the forest, Lucy was standing on the lodge’s walkway, her eyes on the tree line. I was panting, and I had a scratch on my cheek where a branch had caught me in the face. I slowed but not quickly enough to avoid her noticing me running.

  Her eyes widened. “What’s the matter? Did you see someone?” The words came quickly, and there was real fear in her voice.

  I raised a hand and took a few deep breaths, trying to ease the stitch that was developing in my side.

  “No, nothing’s the matter.”

  Her frown deepened. “So, what’s the hurry?”

  I tried a smile. “Just trying to get some exercise.”

  Lucy nodded, but she was frowning. “Any luck?”

  My mind went blank. “Luck?”

  “With the traps? You were checking them.”

  I was an idiot. “Ah right. No. No luck today. To be honest, I haven’t caught anything with them for a while.”

  Lucy looked over my shoulder. “In that case, it’s a good thing Alex has brought us something to eat.”

  Alex walked across the camp, two large fish in his hands and a huge grin on his face. “Sushi, anyone?”

  Lucy smiled as he walked past her into the lodge. “I’m impressed. Mayb
e you aren’t such a dead weight after all.”

  Alex laughed. “Come on, all this manly hunter stuff has made me hungry.”

  Lucy followed him inside. I paused. She’d asked me whether I’d seen someone, not something. She was more afraid of the living than the dead. Puzzled, I went inside.

  Mike had moved from the couch into one of the armchairs. He’d changed his clothes as well, into jeans and a T-shirt. I recognized them from the psychedelic cabin and felt a twinge of anger. The change had done him some good. He looked healthier and more alert than he had less than an hour earlier.

  Alex and Lucy took the fish into the kitchen, leaving me standing just inside the door. I was trying to think of a reason to skip food and go upstairs to my room, but before I could make my excuses, Mike said, “Can we have a chat? I’d like to know more about the situation here.”

  I smiled a little then sat down in the chair opposite him.

  “Any trouble out there?” he said.

  “No, no sign of anyone.”

  If he picked up on my use of anyone, it didn’t register on his face.

  “Good. Luce tells me you ran into a gang?”

  Damn. “Yes.”

  “And they have a chopper?” His eyebrows were raised, and I could feel the skepticism hanging in the air around us.

  “Yeah, they must have found it somewhere.”

  “Military?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe, but I didn’t get a close look at it. I was too busy running for my life.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  I nodded but said nothing, hoping to starve the conversation of oxygen.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but a coughing fit cut him off.

  “I should let you rest.”

  He pressed one hand against his mouth and raised the other. “No, please.”

  I waited until he’d gotten the cough under control.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was starting to give you the third degree there. Old habits die hard.”

  “Habits?”

  “I’m a cop. Or I was until the world went to hell.”

  I tensed. “Like an… actual cop?”

  “Yeah, in Seattle.”

  All I could think of to say was, “That’s interesting.”

  I hoped the fear that was bubbling up inside me hadn’t reached my voice. There were a lot of people I didn’t want to be nosing around my home, but suspicious policemen were close to the top of the list, right beneath human lie detectors. Something in the kitchen clattered to the floor, and I jumped. I glanced at Mike and felt another wave of anxiety building.

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to arrest you for killing zombies.”

  I forced a smile and tried to ignore the trickle of sweat running down my back. I was about to make another move toward my bedroom when Alex came into the lounge. He was carrying a broad serving plate and grinning again. The plate held a mound of fish that had been inexpertly hacked from the bone, and a few crackers. Lucy followed him into the room with a jug of water, four glasses, and some forks.

  Alex placed the fish down on the table. “Sorry there’s no wasabi, guys.”

  I looked at the mass of gray-white flesh on the plate, and my stomach lurched. I stood, the sudden movement making me sway slightly as the blood rushed to my head. The room shifted around me. I squeezed my eyes shut, playing up my discomfort. When I opened them again, everyone was looking at me.

  “I should go upstairs and get some rest,” I said. “I’m not feeling very well.”

  “Are you sure?” Lucy said.

  I nodded, and the room shifted on its axis again. “Yeah, I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “At least take some food up with you,” Alex said. “I’ll get you a plate.”

  He turned to go out to the kitchen, but I put my hand on his shoulder. “No, please. It’s fine. I’m not that keen on sushi anyway.”

  “Totally get it. No worries. You could take some crackers.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Alex shrugged.

  We said our good nights.

  I moved up the stairs slowly, partly to emphasize the fact that I wasn’t well but also because I was more than a little unsteady on my feet. About halfway up, I stole a look back into the lounge. Everyone was eating, forking ragged chunks of fish onto the crackers and pouring water into glasses.

  As soon as I stepped into my room and closed the door behind me, I started to shake. Not just slight tremors, full-on shudders. Panic hit me, and for a few seconds, I was convinced my heart was going to explode. I removed my knife and placed it on the dresser then sat on the edge of the bed and willed the attack to subside.

  It did, eventually, but my hands were still shaking. I felt sick to my stomach. My carefully protected life was unraveling, and I could feel the shadow pulling at the threads, helping them along.

  I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep eluded me. I could hear the intruders talking downstairs. At least, there was a muffled scattering of words that maddeningly stayed just beyond the reach of my understanding. I tried to console myself that if they were talking about me, they were doing a poor job of making sure I couldn’t hear them. But then the voices would fade to almost nothing, and I’d be left wondering whether it was a natural lull in the conversation or they’d lowered them to discuss me. As the light outside dimmed, draping the lodge in darkness, I began to wonder if they were ever going to go to bed.

  Finally, I heard the rattle of plates and the shuffle of people moving around. Fresh worries played at the edges of my mind. Maybe they’d moved to the kitchen to be sure I wouldn’t overhear them and were now discussing how to murder me in my sleep before I attacked them.

  The shadow whispered to me—I should take the initiative, kill them first. I fought against it. I was outnumbered. All I had to do was wait a couple more days, and then they would go of their own free will. They’d promised, and they were good people.

  Were they?

  Clearly, Alex was hiding something, and Lucy was afraid of more than just the living dead. Ever since I was a child, I’ve embraced the darkness that others shy away from, and it’s given me a unique perspective. I knew these people were guilty, and they were the perfect subjects for my work. I didn’t need the shadow to show me that.

  The wooden staircase creaked, and a few seconds later footsteps passed my door. Alex whispered a good night. Lucy and Mike replied. The doors to the other two bedrooms opened, almost in time with each other, then clicked shut. I could just about make out the sound of a lock clicking, probably from the third room. Assuming Lucy and Mike were together, they’d almost certainly chosen that one. Which meant they were concerned about safety, even if Alex wasn’t.

  I listened to the muffled sounds of three people getting ready for bed and hoped sleep would come to me quickly.

  The shadow was still waiting for me when my eyes snapped open a few hours later. An iron band tightened around my chest. I sat up, each breath an effort of will. The bedclothes were drenched with sweat, and my hands were shaking. I clenched them together as though I were praying and willed them to stop.

  My head was thick, my thoughts slow. A shadow in the corner of the room caught my eye, threatening to trigger another panic attack until I realized it was just the chair. The tattered remnants of a dream still clung to my mind. Images of Lucy and Mike interrogating me, dunking my head into a bucket of ice-cold water again and again until I confessed my sins.

  Fueled by a potent mix of hunger and fear, my stomach twisted and rolled. Why had I let them stay? I could have refused and insisted they find their own sanctuary. Anger flared, displacing the fear. What right did they have to challenge me? They were guests in my home. I’d welcomed them, shared my food.

  The shadow reared up again. Alex would be an easy target. I could picture him clearly. He’d be sprawled across the bed on his back, so deeply asleep that I’d easily be able to slide the knife across his throat. He might wake up, but it would be over
before he knew what was happening.

  Lucy and Mike would be harder. The door was locked, but maybe the knife could solve that problem, too. They’d be lying in bed in each other’s arms, naked perhaps. I’d take Mike first but quickly enough that Lucy would be dead before she had time to react. If something went wrong and either of them woke before I was finished, I could handle them. Mike was still weak from the fever, and I was bigger than Lucy. I could overpower them both.

  But part of me knew that wasn’t true, and there were too many ways it could go wrong. I’d be taking an unnecessary risk. I just needed to wait them out. I dug my nails into the backs of my hands. Pain flared, a pinpoint of clarity in the haze of emotion. I pressed harder and felt the shadow recede. But it was still there, urging me to act.

  The skies were clear, and the light from the moon was bathing the dresser in a pale glow and revealing my knife in all its lethal glory as though the heavens themselves were conspiring against me. The knife called to me, adding its own seductive voice to the shadow’s. My head was pounding, the pressure inside building until I felt it might actually explode.

  I rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. I had to do something to release that pressure, or I was going to get myself caught.

  Chapter 22

  Relief

  I clutched my knife as I picked my way along the trail to the workshop. The path was dark and treacherous. The moon provided some light, but the plants and trees that cloaked the trail in the day worked to make it all but impassable at night. Again and again, I stumbled on a rock or an outstretched root. Branches clawed at my face, threatening to blind me.

  Even without nature impeding my progress, the darkness provided more than adequate cover for the living dead. I’d never seen any indication that they slept at night. I could literally walk into the arms of one and not know it was there until its teeth were clamped around my throat.

  But I pushed on. Every step I took toward the workshop eased the pressure in my skull. The shadow was still there, urging me on, but now we were working together. I hacked at the undergrowth blocking my way, my knife singing through the air, as eager as I was to get to our destination.