Serial Killer Z [Book 1]

by Philip Harris

  I lifted Mike’s arm, and he cried out.

  “Sorry, but you need to keep it raised and press hard on the wound.”

  He groaned, but I saw him tighten his grip.

  Ahead of us, the trail widened. We were only a few minutes from the camp. We could get him back to the lodge, but then what? He’d been bitten, and there was no coming back from that.

  Lucy reappeared, clutching the medical kit. She opened the case and held it out to me. The contents seemed so inadequate. A few bandages, the remains of the bottle of antiseptic, a couple of squares of gauze, and some off-the-shelf painkillers. I pulled out the antiseptic and unscrewed the cap. Then I lowered Mike’s arm and tipped the contents of the bottle onto the wound. The air was filled with screams and the smell of hospitals. Lucy turned her head away.

  I threw the bottle aside and grabbed the bandages and gauze. “Give him the painkillers.”

  Lucy took the bottle and unscrewed the lid. Her hands were shaking. “How many?”

  I hesitated. “As many as you like.”

  Anger flashed through her eyes, but she didn’t speak. She tipped a few of the tablets into her hand and raised it to Mike’s mouth. “Here.”

  He pulled his head away.

  “Go on,” she said, her voice cracking.

  Mike relented and took the pills in his mouth. Lucy watched until she was sure he’d taken them. I think she was right—he would have spat them out if she hadn’t.

  The antiseptic had washed away some of the blood, but more had already taken its place. The bite was too deep. I pressed the gauze onto Mike’s arm and wrapped a bandage around the wound. It immediately turned red.

  “Lucy? Marcus?”

  It was Alex. His voice was tight, laced with pain.

  “Go and help him,” I said.

  Lucy placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder, but he knocked it away. “Go,” he said. His voice was rough, full of pain.

  I wrapped the rest of the bandage around his arm, pulling it as tight as I could. Blood was still soaking through, but it did seem to be slowing. I raised his arm again.

  Mike grunted in pain. “You’re wasting your… time… You know what needs to be done.”

  I looked over at Lucy. She was knee-deep in the ditch, trying to shift the bike.

  “Marcus!” Mike said. “We all know.” The words came through gritted teeth.

  He was right. I retrieved my knife from the zombie. Without thinking, I wiped the blade on the ground to clean it. Mike nodded to me.

  “No!” screamed Lucy. “Don’t you dare!”

  She was standing back on the trail with her gun pointing at me. “If you try, I’ll shoot you.” The barrel of the weapon wavered but not enough for me to be sure she’d miss.

  “Luce…” Mike said.

  “No, Mike. I’m not going to let you die.”

  He fell forward until he was draped over the front of the bike. Sweat beaded his brow, and his skin was pale and waxy. He managed to raise his head to look at Lucy. “Please…”

  A fresh wave of tears broke over Lucy’s cheeks. I could see her fighting with herself. Mike was right; we all knew it was too late. She shook her head, and Mike’s shoulders dropped. His head dipped, and his eyes closed.

  “Come on, Marcus,” Lucy said. “I need your help.”

  She waved the gun at me. I held up my hand and slipped my knife back into its sheath.

  Alex was pinned by the bike. His eyes were open, but his shirt was slick with sweat. The cut in his hand had opened up again. Blood had soaked through the bandage and into the sleeve of his jacket.

  I crouched down beside him, peering beneath the bike. He tried to smile, but the movement turned into a grimace. I could see his leg was wedged between the storage rack and the ground. There wasn’t enough light to make out more than that. We’d have to move the bike to get him free, but the edge of the ditch was too steep for us to be able to pull it out.

  “We’ll need to roll the bike off you,” I said.

  Alex nodded and winced.

  I moved around to the other side while I decided whether to warn him that moving it could actually make things worse. His leg was pinned so tightly, the pressure might be stopping any serious bleeding. If we got the bike off him, he could bleed out quicker. Lucy watched me. I couldn’t tell if she knew the risk we’d be taking.

  “Okay, we’re going to have to lift together from this side. We’re only going to get one crack at this. Alex, we’ll try to roll it over completely, but as soon as you’re free, get out of the way. If you can.”

  He gave me a dubious look, but he nodded anyway.

  Lucy and I crouched down beside the bike and felt around underneath for something to hold on to.

  “Ready?” I said.

  Lucy nodded.

  “On three. One… two… three!”

  We lifted the bike upward. My fingers slipped. Lucy yelped as the bike slid away from us. The dirt beneath our feet was loose, and my right foot twisted sideways.

  “Lift!” I said.

  I leaned forward, putting my weight behind the movement. The wheels caught, and the bike tipped. The metal frame dug into my hands as I pushed the bike forward. Lucy lost her balance and let out another yell. Alex screamed, but the bike’s momentum carried it over, and it crashed into the opposite side of the ditch.

  I knelt down beside Alex. His foot was twisted awkwardly, but there was no blood that I could see. His boot seemed to have protected him from more serious injury.

  “Okay, your ankle’s probably broken. It looks pretty clean, but you won’t be running any marathons in the near future.”

  Alex snorted through gritted teeth.

  The ditch was about four feet deep—just enough to make it hard for Alex to climb out.

  “We need to get you up there,” I said. “But it isn’t going to be easy. It’ll hurt.”

  “Can’t you get… a stretcher? From the camp?”

  “I didn’t see one, and even if I had… Mike’s been bitten.”

  Alex rolled his head back. “Oh crap…”

  “You’re going to be okay. Both of you,” Lucy said.

  “You’re the boss,” Alex said.

  “You bet I am; now come on.”

  Lucy and I knelt on either side of Alex, our arms hooked beneath his. He screamed as we lifted him upright. For a few seconds, he looked like he was going to faint, then he swallowed, took a deep breath, and nodded. He leaned against me, keeping the weight off his broken ankle while Lucy climbed up to the trail to help him.

  The sides of the ditch were steep, and the earth was dry. It crumbled away every time Alex tried to clamber out. Twice he ended up screaming in agony after sliding back down and knocking his injured foot.

  In the end, he lay back against the slope, and I used my hands to provide a foothold. He managed to push himself part of the way up, and Lucy dragged him the rest. His broken ankle bounced against the edge of the ditch as she hauled him over the top. He screamed again, and I winced. If there were more zombies nearby, they’d be attracted by the prospect of convenient food. Alex leaned heavily into Lucy, but I still thought he was going to collapse. I managed to scramble out of the ditch and get my arm under his shoulder before he did.

  We led him over to the remaining roadworthy bike. Mike was still leaning over the front. We approached him carefully, and when he raised his head, I reached for my knife. His eyes were clear, but his skin glistened in the sunlight, waxy and pale. He caught my eye, but I looked away. Lucy was still carrying her gun, and I had no doubt she’d use it.

  Alex leaned back against the bike while I looked at his foot. The crash had twisted it to the right, and when I moved it slightly, he cried out in pain. His foot had swollen until it was wedged tight. I had no idea how we were going to get the boot off. Even if we cut the laces it was going to hurt like hell to remove it.

  “How’s it look, Doc? Will I play professional hockey again?”

  At least his sense of humor was intact.
“We can’t do anything here; we’ll have to get you back to the camp.”

  “I don’t want to sound like a wimp, but I don’t think I can walk that far.”

  “We can take the bike. The three of you can ride, and I’ll walk along behind with as many of the supplies as I can carry. Assuming Lucy’s okay to drive?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Alex, you can sit behind Lucy. Mike? Will you be able to ride on the back?”

  Mike raised his head and looked over his shoulder at me, but Lucy spoke first. “Yes, he’ll be fine.”

  “We’d better get going. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  I pulled the backpacks off the bikes and checked their weight while Lucy helped Alex and then Mike onto the bike. Mike sat on the rack, facing backward. They were both pale and in pain. Neither of them looked like they’d survive the journey back to the camp. I stashed the lightest of the backpacks next to the crashed bike and swung the other over my shoulder in the hope it would have the most useful contents. Maybe I could come back for the rest later.

  Mike rested his injured arm in his lap and used the other to hold on to the rack.

  Lucy started the engine.

  “You’ll need to take it slow,” I said.

  Mike leaned over his shoulder and called to Lucy. “Give Marcus the gun, Luce.”

  “No.” Her voice was flat.

  “Luce, I’m not letting you do this unless you give him the gun.”

  She held out until Mike started to climb off the bike.

  “Here.”

  She held out the gun, but when I took hold of it she tightened her grip. She held my gaze for a few seconds until I understood her unspoken warning, then she released the weapon.

  I removed the clip. It was empty. I showed it to Mike, and he gave a wry smile. He had another clip in a pocket on his belt. He threw it to me. I fumbled with it, trying to work out how it fit. When it eventually clicked into place, I slipped the gun into my belt. It felt awkward and heavy, as though it would fall out at any moment or just spontaneously go off. I removed it again and carried it instead.

  Lucy accelerated slowly down the slope. Mike winced as the bike’s movement jostled him. I walked behind, watching him closely as we rolled steadily toward the camp.

  Chapter 34

  Mercy

  Lucy parked the bike outside the lodge and climbed off, immediately putting herself between me and Mike. She needn’t have worried; I wasn’t going to kill him. When she held out her hand for the gun, I gave it to her. I put the backpack on the walkway outside the lodge, grabbed the pair of the ski poles from the side of the building, and gave them to Alex. He swung his leg over the side of the bike and hesitantly stood up, using one of the poles to support himself. They were a little short for crutches, but they’d do.

  Lucy moved to hook her arm under Mike’s shoulder. He knocked her arm away. She stared at him.

  “Guys, can you leave us alone for a minute?” Mike said.

  “Sure,” I said. “Come on, Alex.”

  I held the door open for him as he struggled up the steps and into the lodge. Lucy had already started crying again when I closed the door behind us.

  I led Alex over to the couch and helped him sit down. Then I dragged the coffee table over and placed his foot on it. He hissed in pain but thanked me anyway.

  “We’ll need to get that boot off, but it’s going to hurt.”

  Alex stared at his foot as though he was willing the leather and rubber to evaporate. “You need to deal with Mike first.”

  I let out a slow breath. I could hear Lucy and Mike talking, their voices too muffled by the lodge walls to be understood.

  “You have to, Doc.”

  “I’m not a doctor.”

  “It’s what he’d want.”

  I nodded.

  We could hear Lucy shouting now, her voice filled with anger, frustration, and pain. She was begging Mike, pleading with him. I went to the window. He had his hands on hers, pressing the gun into them. She shook her head, but her shoulders sagged in resignation.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped at her face with her free hand then raised the gun. The barrel wavered as her shoulders shook. Mike said something, and she tensed, pulling herself upright, just a little.

  I knew she couldn’t do it even before she lowered the gun. I had no doubt she could kill. I’d seen her. But she couldn’t execute the man she loved, not even to stop him from becoming a monster.

  Lucy turned, the gun hanging limply at her side, and walked toward the lodge. She reached the walkway, and I opened the door.

  Without saying anything, she held the gun out to me. I took it as she passed.

  Alex watched us from the couch. Lucy sat down beside him, and he slung his arm around her shoulder.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” I said and swung the door shut.

  The shadow roiled within my body, and I felt a glimmer of excitement. I’d been handed an opportunity. All I had to do was find a way to take advantage of it. If Mike sensed my excitement, he didn’t show it. He just stood and waited for me.

  “Not here,” I said as I drew near. “It’s too close. We’ll go into the forest. I don’t want them to see this.”

  Mike nodded.

  He didn’t speak as we made our way around the back of the lodge. I was grateful for the silence. The shadow surged through me, and I had to fight to keep it from overwhelming my senses. Trying to hold a conversation at the same time would have been all but impossible.

  I don’t think I realized exactly where I was taking him until we reached the path to the workshop. I pushed aside the bushes and directed Mike into the forest.

  We walked until we were out of sight of the lodge, then I tapped him on the shoulder. “Here should be fine.”

  He turned to face me. In the shadow of the trees, his pale face almost glowed.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Unsure of what to say, I fiddled with the gun, checking the safety twice and then testing the feel of the weapon in my hand as though I were assessing the weight of fruit in a market.

  Mike moved a few feet away, and I raised the gun. The shadow came forward, and I felt a rush of adrenaline. My trigger finger twitched. The barrel hardly moved. I took a deep breath and swallowed. Cold tendrils ran down my back, and I shuddered. I took another breath.

  “I’m sorry. Could you…?” I spun my finger in the air.

  Mike nodded.

  He turned his back to me, pulling up straight. I stepped forward and raised the gun until it was just a couple of inches away from the base of his skull. The world around me shrank, and the forest fell silent. It was just me and Mike.

  “I’m sorry,” I said and slammed the butt of the gun into the back of his head.

  In the movies, that’s enough to take a man down, but Mike just stumbled forward, yelling in surprise. I hit him again, putting all my weight into the blow. This time he fell, grunting as he fell to his knees. I hit him again, and he landed face-first in the dirt.

  I raised the gun, ready to club him with it if he moved. He groaned a little then lay still. When I was sure he was out cold, I fired two shots off into the trees, sending birds scattering into the air. Then I slipped the gun back into my belt.

  By the time Mike regained consciousness, I had him chained to the table in the workshop.

  Chapter 35

  Mike

  I stood beside Mike as confusion, surprise, and then anger passed over his face. He tried to sit up, but the chains across his neck, waist, and legs held him in place. He struggled, trying to break free, but the restraints were more than a match for his fading strength.

  He looked at me, his brow furrowed. “What the hell?”

  His voice was dry and weak, and his skin had taken on a plastic sheen. A spiderweb of thin black veins blossomed out around his eyes.

  When I didn’t reply, he started moving again. The chains rattled as he strained against them.

  “If I
were you,” I said, “I’d rest. Concentrate on fighting the infection. It might buy you some more time.”

  He grunted. “I don’t want more time.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  The gun was resting on the table behind me, well out of Mike’s reach, but my knife was in my hand. I placed its tip on the end of my left index finger and raised it upright. I stared at it, letting it waver to and fro as though I was balancing it on my finger. The point was sharp, and I could feel it digging into my skin. A slight increase in pressure, and it would break the surface. I could picture it—a drop of red would bloom at the tip of my finger, and then the shadow would break free, bursting from my body in a column of darkness.

  “Marcus, you don’t need to do this.”

  His voice was still weak, but it was calm now. It was the polite, rational sound of a trained police officer trying to defuse a dangerous situation.

  The shadow reached into my mind, and I smiled. “Don’t waste your breath,” we said.

  I took the knife away from my finger and, still smiling, leaned forward until my face was directly over his. My knife hand was resting on the edge of the table. I could see him watching it, trying to work out whether he could make some sort of move before I rammed the blade into his skull.

  “I have to go,” I said. “I need to deal with Lucy and Alex.”

  Mike’s eyes widened, and he shook his head, but I turned away before he spoke. I picked up the gun and weighed it in my hand as though I was debating what to do with it. Then I slipped it into my belt.

  The chains rattled again as I walked away.

  “Where are you going? Marcus, don’t just leave me here. For God’s sake. Please.”

  Mike’s shouts grew louder and more urgent as I opened the door and walked out.

  “You can’t do this. Please, Marcus!”

  I stood outside the workshop for a moment, letting the shadow drink in his fear, his panic. Then I swung the door closed. I slipped the knife back into its sheath and walked toward the trail to the camp, Mike’s cries chasing me through the trees.