Only The Dead Don't Die (Book 3): Last State

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Only The Dead Don't Die (Book 3): Last State Page 32

by Popovich, A. D.


  “What if your purpose is a protector, like Scarlett?” Zac wondered aloud.

  “And the Voodoo part?” Luther questioned.

  “Aw, don’t sweat it. Even Twila said it’s just a religion,” Zac encouraged. “You’re obviously a survivor. And everyone around you lives. That’s why I wanted you to ride shotgun.”

  “Uh huh, I see what you’re saying, bro. When I get this intense crazy-ass vibe something’s about to go down, I haul my black ass outta there.”

  “Bingo! It’s that evasive sixth sense. I’d gamble a case of Johnny Walker most survivors in the Lost States have it,” Zac said.

  “Here’s one for you. Do you think X-strains are a mutation or an experiment gone wrong?” Luther asked.

  “Hell if I know. Hope it was the result of some virus mutation. Anyone who would intentionally create the X-strain is one sick puppy. Makes me lose all faith in mankind,” Zac spouted with disgust.

  “Sometimes I think humanity has nothing to do with it. What if an alien race decided to turn Earth into an Xbox Live platform?” Luther’s tone was a decibel short of sarcasm.

  Zac gave him a raised-brow side glance. “So, all this talk is rubbing off on you?” Zac joked back.

  “Just messing with you. It’s one of Justin’s lines. Although, it do seem like someone has it in for us.”

  “Right you are, my friend.” Zac coasted to a stop. “We’ll stop here so I can check in with my special powers,” Zac exaggerated. He parked about two hundred yards from the tunnel’s entrance. Zoat had been built over a tributary of the Canadian River, which flowed in a culvert under Zoat about two football fields from the tunnel.

  “Let’s grab the fishing gear from the camper.” Fishing was their cover story. But, he planned to be out of there before Enforcers showed up. Zac and Luther arranged two lawn chairs, two fishing poles, an ice chest, and tackle box at the edge of the tributary still high from winter’s snowmelt.

  Luther grabbed a rod and sat in the chair. “I’ll take point and watch for drones while you do your Voodoo thing,” Luther ragged.

  The early evening sun lingered above the horizon, dusting the clouds with orange and pink streaks. Damn, if he had only checked out the tunnel during their escape from Boom Town, he could have saved Scarlett then. Zac stood with closed eyes before the tunnel, using his mind’s eye. The normal route glowed. He expanded his vision. Darkness. He pried deeper. A pinpoint of light appeared. An opening in the wall? He couldn’t see beyond it. He pushed harder. He had the odd sensation he was stuck on the losing end of a tug of war battle. A presence seemed to be blocking him.

  Determined, he wasn’t letting it overpower him. Zac mentally shot a bolt of energy through the small opening. The dirt wall blasted into particles. An intricate network of caves appeared. What the— The zombs had dug through the bottom of Zoat. Did they have their own Underground Railroad? Were they planning on escaping to the Lost States?

  He held onto the vision. A lighted pathway shot ahead. He assumed it led to Scarlett, although he didn’t see her. No zombs, either. But there had to be a horde in that maze of tunnels. He sensed a heavy dark energy. His kundalini awakening had altered his perceptions, making them more intense.

  “Drone,” Luther announced.

  “Don’t sweat it. Remember, we’re just two legally-chipped Zhetts fishing next to Zoat.” Zac waved to the drone. It circled over them before zooming off.

  “They must think we’re a little off to fish this close to Zoat.” Luther laughed. “Did your special powers tell you anything?”

  “There’s several offshoots from the main tunnel. I know the one we need.”

  “Anything else I need to worry about?” Luther must have heard the concern in Zac’s tone.

  “I didn’t see a horde,” Zac said. “But, trust me, they’re waiting for us. I can sense an ambush a mile away.”

  “Another one of your special powers?” Luther jested.

  “Go!” Twila shouted. Zac automatically reached for the earpiece to turn down the volume. Only, he wasn’t wearing one.

  Zac hesitated. “Look, you might as well know. This is a suicide mission. If I didn’t—” What were the odds?

  “I get it,” Luther said. “We all do crazy-ass shit in the name of love.”

  “Does it show that much?” Zac frowned, trying to bolster his machismo.

  “Tapping into my special powers, bro,” Luther ribbed.

  “What I’m trying to say is, you should hang back,” Zac suddenly decided. It wasn’t like him to be paranoid, but he didn’t want Luther’s death on his conscience.

  “Bro, like I said.” Luther slammed a fresh magazine into the Glock. “I’m in.”

  “Time to weapon up before the next drone shows up,” Zac worried. If all went well, it would be a quick in-and-out mission. They hurried to the truck’s camper. Zac slung his M4 over his shoulder and then stuffed extra mags in his vest.

  Zac retrieved several grenades from his duffle bag. “This might get us out of a jam in a last resort, all-balls-out scenario. Help yourself.” Zac handed the duffle to Luther.

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Luther gleamed.

  “You set?” Zac closed the camper’s door.

  “Yup.”

  “Avoid using your flashlight. We need any edge we can get,” Zac said as they reached the debris barricading the tunnel’s entrance. The debris had been moved since they had gone through the tunnel last. Although, it was nothing unusual; any of his coverts could have used it recently. Zac didn’t have time to worry about it. He had a disconcerting feeling that time itself unraveled faster and faster as if they were in an alternate reality where time tick-tocked by hours, not seconds.

  They strutted down the tunnel’s incline. “Stay on my six,” Zac whispered.

  Luther seemed uneasy as well. Waltzing into the dark with thousands of Zs above and only each other to watch their back wasn’t the smartest thing. If a horde had actually renovated the tunnel, that meant it had access in and out of Zoat. A horde could spawn before them at any time.

  The ground finally leveled out. The lighted path he sought glowed brighter. “Ten feet ahead,” Zac informed.

  “Can’t see a damn thing,” Luther muttered.

  Zac reached the point in the wall where the infrared map in his mind indicated the tunnel should continue. “Damn, it has to be here.” He rammed the walls with the butt of his weapon. He reached a section where the loamy soil gave way.

  Luther clicked on the light attached to his vest, punching the wall with his fists. “Clever bastards. That’s why we didn’t see it on our way through,” Luther said.

  “Hurry!” Twila shouted, splintering his ears.

  Zac squeezed through the opening.

  “Don’t be leaving me behind,” Luther whispered with a hint of desperation. “Did I mention I’m claustrophobic when it comes to small, dark places?”

  “Now, you tell me?” But Zac hustled on. Time vanished around him at warp speed.

  It would take Luther another minute to widen the opening for his large frame. And it was one minute less to save Scarlett. Zac zoomed in on the path, needing to know he wasn’t too late. Needing to see Scarlett. With closed eyes, he concentrated and demanded an image. A pixelated image appeared. A woman in an extravagant gown twirled about. Zombs drank from a huge cauldron in a sorcery scene right out of a Harry Potter movie.

  The woman collapsed. Scarlett? A tall zomb picked up her lifeless body. The rest of the zombs began collapsing to the ground. Except the one zomb. That zomb glared directly into Zac’s eyes. It snickered, “She’s mine,” directly into his mind.

  Zac jumped back to reality, perplexed. How long had he been in that blanked-out state?

  Luther was behind him, partially blocking the flashlight’s stream with the palm of his hand. “Bro, what just happened? ’Cause the expression on your face is scarin’ the shit out of Ol’ Luther.”

  “It’s got her!” Zac took off, racing down th
e narrow corridor. He came to a den-like cage with a door made of human bones bound in wire.

  “Scarlett?” His throat went hoarse. He tore back the blue curtain hanging in one corner. The small niche of a room was empty except for a cot, piss bucket, box of MREs, and a water jug. Since when did zombs take prisoners? Even more unfathomable, why hadn’t they killed her?

  Ah, shit. The realization suckered punched him in the heart. Zac recognized the look in the zomb’s eyes. That look had been the face of Wall Street, greed. Only in the zomb’s case, it was the greed for life. It wanted Scarlett as its mate. It wanted to live again, if not as a human, then vicariously through Scarlett, for she exuded life and all that was good of humanity. Intense. He brushed off the vision.

  Luther caught up to him. “Did you find her?”

  Zac didn’t answer. He broke out into a full run. The pixelated path in his head vanished. Wiped clean. “Fucker!” Zac yelled. He stormed into a room with a horde of creepers writhing around the ground. The stench . . .

  “Good God Almighty!” Luther gasped from behind.

  Zac put his finger to his lips. “Wait for my mark,” Zac whispered. Zac crept into the room, stepping over their murmuring bodies. They were in a near state of orgasmic rapture, wriggling around the floor unaware of his presence. There was no sign of Scarlett. He dashed back to Luther.

  Luther husked, “She there?”

  Zac shook his head. He kicked the dirt wall repeatedly. Luther patted his back, probably trying to reassure him. Luther must think he was going mad. Zac didn’t know what to do next. Which never happened to him, not since the Nano Com-trail flu. He always had an angle. A strange sensation overtook him as if he no longer had control of his thoughts. His decision-making process had turned to mush. So that’s it, some sort of mind control. It was a Thinker.

  Zac grunted, forcing the words out of a reluctant mouth, one by one. “This—is—going—to—sound—crazy.” Zac pushed through, and the words came easier. “Distract the S-O-B while I look for Scarlett. It’s—blocking me.”

  “Bro, I told you I don’t know nothing about this kumbaya shit,” Luther rambled, shaking his head with a definite no.

  “You used to play ball, right? Need you to run interference. Imagine you’re the biggest, meanest, scariest fucker, and you’re about to ram over your opponent’s star quarterback. Because, he’s at the fifty-yard line. Only he’s got Scarlett. Imagine it. Manifest it.”

  Luther let out a wide smile. “Yeah, baby! Now that, I can relate to.”

  Zac concentrated again. With quivering eyelids, he rolled his eyes upward. The tunnel’s main path reappeared. He envisioned running through it, setting off motion sensor lights, igniting the path. The offshoots popped into view. The last light didn’t go off. The unlit light grew larger and larger in the center of his mind. Not going off. An entrance! The zomb had to be there, mentally blocking him.

  Luther leaned against the cave’s wall grunting, throwing punches in the air. He was in full-fledge fighting mode. Whatever it was, it was working.

  “He’s going to turn Mommy into one of them—”

  Zac didn’t need to hear that from an eight-year-old. Instinctively, he knew the zomb had to have her. Like those buddies back in his party days who’d do anything to bed the virginal socialite. Only this time, it was a soul that was at stake. Scarlett’s.

  Zac took off again, heading for the one light refusing to light up in his mind. Straddling two dimensions, it was as if he were going nowhere through a wormhole. Time spun. Space folded. His body contorted into impossible positions. He pushed on. Each step took him farther and farther away.

  He realized finally, that it was impossible. An elaborate illusion. The entrance appeared before him. He steadied his hand. Could he kill the bastard with the first shot with his senses misfiring? He had killed hundreds of zombs under normal circumstances. He had never been put to the test with something so precious to him.

  Zac burst into the opening of a small room. It stiffened when it saw him. Scarlett lay limp in its arms. Its lips locked onto hers in a death kiss—wanting Zac to witness the wicked act.

  ***

  Scarlett Lewis squinted at the walls of flames shooting up around her, entrapping her, engulfing her spirit. A snickering laughter drifted above the sizzling flames. The King of the Undead held her in its leathery arms, shadowing her subconscious. Zac appeared behind the wall of flames. She drifted between two realities; which one was real? The reality with Zac or the king? Scarlett mentally pushed back the King’s overpowering presence. The wall of flames was merely a cheap parlor trick, the art of illusion.

  “You belong to me,” the king admonished. “Only I can protect you from the vile ones. They won’t tolerate your superiority. I offer you a place beside me. Together we will rule the Undead. There is no place left for the living. Death thrives upon the earth, for only the dead don’t die.” His words chilled her to the bone.

  Scarlett struggled for consciousness as if the king’s illusion had a consciousness of its own, gaining strength. The grisly reality took hold. Time spun backward, erasing humanity from the Akashic Records so that it never—was.

  “B-e-l-i-e-v-e,” the crimson letters floated around her head. She knew this vision. “Scarlett, your will is stronger than all of them. It is why we chose you for this Soul Mission. You must see beyond their alchemy of deception,” the Silver Lady pleaded in desperation.

  Scarlett doused the wall of flames with her mind, afraid to open her eyes. But she did. Zac stood in the opening of the cave. A foul breath misted her face. And then, it kissed her, more like tried to suck her lips off. She lost all control of her limbs. What haunted her more, was the vision of a thousand claws digging through the dirt.

  ***

  Zac Padilla had it in the sights of the 9mm.

  Its face inches from Scarlett’s face. “Nvrrr,” it hissed.

  Had it just said, “Never?” That was the clincher. Zac was a click away from losing Scarlett whether he missed or not. He willed a perfect aim.

  Its jowls sprang open for the kill-bite.

  Zac steadied his hand. Exhaled. Even with the silencer, the pshoot of the 9mm reverberated his eardrums. The left side of its head reddened. It dropped Scarlett. It hissed and shot up a wall of flames. Zac kept telling himself the flames weren’t real. It was mind-fucking him.

  A grenade blast from down the corridor rocked the place. Dirt tumbled down the cave’s disintegrating walls. Luther was in trouble. Had the Zomb telepathically alerted the rest of the horde? Luther was on his own. Zac needed to breach the flaming wall. He leaped through like he was jumping through a Star Gate portal. It lunged at him, knocking the 9mm from his hand. Snapping teeth jutted in for the kill-bite. He jabbed his elbow into its teeth. Teeth flew out of its mouth. The pinging of bouncing teeth told him where his gun was.

  The zomb covered a boney hand over its thin-lipped mouth. Agony spread across its face as if it had been proud of its perfect zomb teeth. Zac shook away the thought and took another swing at its skull. Movement behind him. Damn, he wasn’t ready for an ambush, not when he was so close. Automatic gunfire peppered the corridor. Luther’s hanging in there.

  “Zac?” a whispery voice interrupted his rage.

  Then he saw Scarlett, next to a stack of crates. Alive! “Scarlett!” he rejoiced. The zomb dove for Scarlett. But Zac had anticipated the move. He dove for the 9mm. He let off three rounds into the back of its hairless head. It landed next to Scarlett. Dead. Zomb dead.

  She stumbled toward him, tripping on the gown. She landed in his arms. “Zac, are you really here?” Scarlett’s eyes beseeched.

  “In the flesh.” He scoured her for bite marks. “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so. The tea made me woozy. I’ll be fine in a bit.”

  Luther poked his head into the cave’s den. “We don’t have any bits. There’s a horde heading this way. Get out of here. I’ll cover you!”

  Zac swung Scarlett over his shou
lder. “I know you’ll think I’m a chauvinistic sonofabitch for doing this, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do,” he teased.

  Luther let off a burst of shots. Zac made it to the main corridor with Luther on his ass. Zac let go of his inner vision; it impeded his real-time reaction agility. The maze of caves in his mind disappeared. The tunnel disappeared into darkness, but he knew he headed toward the entrance when his feet reached the incline. Little by little, sunlight filtered in.

  “Aw, shit!” Everything went dark. The Hunger’s Howl took over.

  “Horde blocking the entrance,” Zac announced to Luther with a surreal calmness.

  “And another one crawling up my ass,” Luther answered back.

  Zac fumbled around for the flashlight with his free hand. He lit the walls. “Got any grenades left?” Zac hollered.

  “Yup!”

  “There’s a hollowed-out indention in the wall about five feet ahead,” Zac shouted. It looked like they had started a new offshoot. Was it large enough to protect them from the blast? It was their only chance. “When I say two, let’s blast both ends. Then dive into the hole and duck and cover.”

  Zac hustled to the indention in the wall. “Ready, one—two!”

  Under their frantic moans, Zac heard the release of the pins, the swoosh of their tosses. He dove with Scarlett. Luther crash-landed next to them.

  Three. Zac braced himself.

  Four . . . Boom!

  Through the crumbling walls, Zac fired M4 rounds at the bodies flailing toward them from the entrance. The ringing in his ears drowned out their howls. Zac stumbled for his balance. Scarlett found her feet. Luther gazed around, shell-shocked. As the dirt settled, what was left of the horde staggered into view. It took a moment to realize most of the horde had been dismembered. There was no stopping them. They tottered on like a gruesome army of Energizer bunnies from a Stephen King novel.

  “Uh, bro, another horde just appeared from fucking nowhere. Get Scarlett out!” Luther yelled. “I’ll toss another one when we’re out.”

  With the walls collapsing around them, and Scarlett over his shoulder, Zac double-timed it out of there with a newfound energy. Luther was on his six. The light from the tunnel’s entrance beckoned him. “Faster,” he demanded. With a steady hand, he nailed as many stragglers as he could until he was out of ammo.

 

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