The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series)

by Booth, Steven

  “The moment has come,” Rolf said, ponderously. “You must go forth and find a way to prevail.”

  With that, and no warning, Rolf shoved her forward. Miller bumped into the opposite wall. Stunned, she nearly dropped her weapon. She stepped into another puddle. Now both her boots were soaked. She stomped her foot. “You son of a…”

  Miller froze. A loud creaking sound assaulted her ears, followed shortly by a loud crash. Whatever it was sounded just like a hidden door swinging closed. The world went completely dark as all the overhead light vanished. She was blind again. Her senses kicked into overdrive. The zombies had come. She could smell the foul, sweet odor of decomposition. She closed her eyes as usual, hoping to get better night vision going. She listened carefully.

  They were here. Lots and lots of them.

  Uhhnn-huuhhhh!

  “Rolf!” Miller shouted. She tried to go back but ran head first into a solid wall—the door she had heard slamming shut. She still could not see anything. She felt for a handle or a seam, but she couldn’t find one. She was trapped and alone and she could feel the zombies closing in on her, their rotting feet sliding across the cement, their stench acrid in her nostrils, their hungry voices louder in her ears. She opened her eyes, but still couldn’t see a damned thing. She felt helpless and trapped.

  Uhhh-hunnnhh!

  Miller knew she had to see the enemy to kill them. The only source of light she had was the muzzle flash from her rifle. She already knew that if she didn’t hit them in the brain stem, these albinos wouldn’t go down, so that wasn’t the secret that Rolf was referring to. So there had to be something else, something she hadn’t considered.

  Miller heard the footsteps of the zombies. Some were very close. She couldn’t retreat any further. She had no choice. She set the rifle to single shot, listened carefully, and fired ahead of her into the gloom.

  BAM! The sound was enormous in the enclosed space. The muzzle flashed white.

  And she was able to see for one wonderful instant. There were about a dozen zombies scattered throughout the darkened area, which was considerably wider than the corridor she had been following. It was some kind of side room, perhaps an entirely different storage area that had long been abandoned. Miller placed the creatures in her mind, and tried to allow for their slow, shambling progress forward. She concentrated. She moved the M-4.

  She fired again.

  The zombies were a little closer, of course, about where she’d expected them to be, but that wasn’t what she was looking for. She wanted a better sense of the room. It was not a storage area after all. In fact, the walls seemed to be white but covered with some kind of decorations. And on the wall near her, she caught sight of a small square. It had a good chance of being a light switch. All she had to do was find it by memory, and pray that it actually turned something on.

  Only now one of the creatures was right on her ass.

  Miller groped for the light switch. As she reached it, something foul and dripping gore touched her bare arm. Slimy fingernails scratched at her skin and clothing, seeking purchase. She lashed out with the rifle butt and knocked it reeling backwards. She went back to the switch, and turned it on. It worked.

  The place went from pitch dark to psychedelic in an instant. The lights that came on were black lights—UV bulbs. The decorations on the walls were of scantily clad and often downright naked women in various poses, each of them more pornographic than the next. Best of all, the zombies were all lit up like green gnomes under the UV light.

  Miller didn’t hesitate. She took aim at the first one, a male in a fancy suit. She aimed and fired, hitting it square in the forehead. The brains blew out the back in a cloud. She watched and waited.

  It kept coming.

  Albinos!

  Miller adjusted her aim for the mouth, and shot the thing through the brainstem. It dropped to the ground and stayed down. Miller calmed down. She was in control of the situation. She aimed and fired.

  Something tugged at her leg. Miller aimed down and proceeded to shoot the one she had knocked to the ground. It stopped, too. She took stock of her situation. She counted eight other zombies coming toward her. She had enough ammunition. She backed up against the wall. They had fanned out into a half circle.

  Unhhh hunhhh hunhh…

  Miller dropped to her knee in a puddle of water and took careful aim at each one of the undead. She fired quickly and cleanly, dispatching the zombies one by one. The small room reeked of blood and sulfur and excrement. The albinos dropped where they stood. The UV light made the whole experience even more macabre. Within the space of one minute, the zombies had been destroyed. Miller went back to the door and pounded on it.

  “Rolf, I did it. You can unlock the damn door.”

  The door slowly creaked open. On the other side was Rolf. Miller could hardly see him in the dark light of the UV, but parts of his t-shirt glowed well enough for her to make him out. He stepped away from the door with a wide smile on his rugged face. She walked through into the corridor. Rolf offered his hand to shake. Dudley came racing back, barking up a storm.

  Miller drew her fist back and punched Rolf right in the nose.

  Rolf stumbled backwards and landed in a deep puddle of rain water. Dudley came over to his side, whining and barking. Rolf moaned for a second. He held his smashed nose. “What did I do wrong?”

  Miller kept her weapon pointed at him “Rat, Scratch, Sheppard, Brandon, come on up. The situation is under control.”

  She could hear their feet splashing as they ran forward. They closed the gap quickly and surrounded her. Dudley greeted them with another excited bark. Rolf sat in the water with blood seeping between his fingers.

  “What the hell was all that shooting about?” demanded Scratch. “Are you okay?”

  Miller gestured to Rolf with her rifle. “One of Rolf’s fucking trials,” she said without further explanation. “Damned good thing I found the black-light switch. Otherwise I’d be zombie kibble.”

  Sheppard limped forward with Brandon’s help. He looked into the room. He stared at the zombies that lay scattered on the ground. “Wow, you got lucky. That’s the green fluorescent protein reacting to the UV. We put it in the serum to make sure that the gene therapy worked. I had almost forgotten that.”

  “Well, Rolf knew about it, and he locked me in this room with the zombies so I could figure it out for myself.”

  Rolf stayed on the ground, but pushed up to lean on his arms. He splashed his fingers in the puddle of rainwater. “I knew nothing of this green fluorescent protein. I’ve never heard of it. That was not the weakness you were supposed to discover.” He looked up at her and smiled, despite his bloodied nose. “Sheriff Miller, you truly are the Chosen One.”

  Scratch looked down at Rolf. “What the hell was she supposed to discover then?”

  “That albino zombies are afraid of water,” Rolf said. And he sat up, playfully splashing around in a puddle.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” shouted Scratch. It was clear that he had had enough of Rolf’s nonsense. He puffed up and began approaching the downed man. He looked like he was about to club him to death.

  Miller put her hand on Scratch’s arm. “Leave him be, and lower your voice. Those assholes upstairs can probably hear us.”

  As if on cue, they heard someone pounding on the metal cellar doors. Whoever it was yanked on the handles. The chain and lock that Rat had put on them was holding, but there was no way to know how long that would last.

  “It’s time to leave,” said Miller. “I’ll take point this time.”

  Rat sighed loudly. “You never fucking learn, do you?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Miller could feel her frustration rising. She was fried from the stress, the zombies, the fighting, the killing, the constant arguments. She was fed up with being on the run. She was tired of being underground and sick of being in command.

  “If there’s something on your mind, Francine, spit it out.”
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  “You know something, Penny? You’re a real piece of work. If you had just let me do my job in the first place, we could have been out of here by now. Instead you let King Tut get in the driver’s seat, and wound up fighting off the Mummies of the Lost Tomb. I’m sorry to say this, Penny, but you’re losing it.”

  Miller wasn’t about to be challenged again, especially so soon and in front of her people, too. She took a step closer to Rat. Her blood pressure was rising. “Tell me, Rat, what exactly am I losing?”

  “Your ability to command, that’s what. You’re burned out. And considering all the shit that you’ve put Scratch through today, I think you’re either losing your sanity or you humanity. Maybe both.”

  Miller handed her rifle to Brandon, and clenched her fists. “Don’t you even think about lecturing me on how to handle my relationship with Scratch, Rat.”

  The others exchanged uncomfortable looks but no one dared intervene. The tension had been building all day, and they all knew it.

  “I guess you just want to fuck it all up on your own, then, huh?” Before Miller could respond, Rat said, “You know, if you’re going to dump his biker ass, you should have at least put him back on the market. Maybe I might like to take a stab at him myself.” She turned to Scratch and winked in the gloom. “Hey, handsome, you’re single and I’m rich. How’d you like to play on my team?”

  “Rat, I’m not single.” Scratch turned to Miller. “Or am I?”

  “I don’t believe you’re doing this,” said Miller. “What is this, a damned afternoon soap opera? Are we on One Zombie Hill? If so, how do I get out of my contract?”

  “Just tell me,” Scratch said. “Are you dumping me, Penny?”

  Miller stared at him. She wanted to tell him the truth, but the part that controlled her mouth wouldn’t let her be that weak. “I don’t know. It might be best for both of us, Scratch. See, Sheppard and I…”

  “With all due respect to Karl,” said Scratch, interrupting, “I’m asking you, Penny. Are you dumping me?”

  Miller felt trapped. Her heart was beating like a Scots drummer at a bagpipe festival. “Yes.”

  Scratch surprised her by not exploding. She couldn’t see him clearly, but he seemed to sag. “Why?”

  There was no sense in holding it back any longer. “Because that’s the only way I can protect you.”

  “Protect me?” He sounded angry. “I don’t need you to protect me, Penny. I’ve been doing just fine on my own. In fact, I seem to recall saving your ass from time to time. It works both ways with us, always has and always will.”

  Miller felt her eyes sting. She looked to Sheppard for support, but he was staring down at the ground. “And that’s why I can’t let you risk yourself for me any longer. I love you too much. If something were to happen to you…”

  Scratch seemed amused. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

  “You don’t know that. Just being with me could be enough to kill you.”

  Sheppard looked up at last. “She’s right, you know.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you, Karl,” Scratch snapped. He turned back to face Miller. “Penny, honey, darling, sweetheart. Don’t be a pig-headed fool. I run my own life. You have no right to protect me from you. Is this about the virus? I thought we went over all of that last week. I got it, and it ain’t killed me yet.”

  “What if… what if I get pregnant?” Miller stammered.

  Now Scratch was clearly shocked. “I thought, you know, that you can’t.” He turned to face Sheppard. “Can she?”

  Sheppard looked Scratch in the eye. He nodded, and turned away.

  “Since when?”

  “Since the virus,” Sheppard explained. “It’s possible now, and very risky.”

  “And that’s what you’re worried about?”

  Miller could only nod.

  “Well, shit. That’s just fucking stupid. Have you ever heard of birth control? Hell, I’ll wear a Kevlar condom if I have to. I’m not going to give up on you just because of a stupid reason like that, and to be honest, I’m offended that you couldn’t just tell me what was bothering you in the first place. I thought we had a relationship going here, not a solo act.”

  Miller stared at him. She couldn’t find words. Everything was on the line and now she was too emotional and confused to lead effectively. The conversation couldn’t have come at worse time. They had to get moving again.

  Flustered, Miller turned to Rat. “You got your wish, Francine. You’re on point. Now please get us the hell out of here.”

  Rat stepped forward with a grim smile on her face. “Penny is right. Let’s move.”

  “We aren’t done talking about this,” said Scratch.

  “Yes, we are!” Miller said, raising her voice for the first time. “James Franklin Bowen, in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in a zombie-infested, pitch-black tunnel of death here, with homicidal bikers, a squad of corrupt cops, and killer government drones waiting outside to blow us up if we do manage to escape, and it’s my job to get you people the hell out of here alive. So if you want to practice for your role in the next big romance movie, just do it quietly on the way out. Have you got that, cowboy?”

  Miller didn’t wait for a response. She went to Brandon and retrieved her rifle. “Y’all heard me, damn it. Move out.”

  Rat turned and took a few steps toward their destination, taking point at long last. Miller followed, leading by example, and the others fell in line behind her. Rolf and Dudley brought up the rear.

  They walked in silence for a few moments, following Rat in single file, letting the all the emotions settle back down. Miller shook her head to clear her mind. The tunnel couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards long if it ended across the road from the warehouse—which it had better or they were seriously fucked.

  After a moment, Rat said, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m looking forward to getting back to civilization. I’ve got a lot of cash to roll around in.” She seemed to be trying to lighten the mood.

  Scratch grunted. “Rub it in our face, why don’t you?”

  Rat turned and walked backwards to face them in the darkness. “I’m not rubbing it in, Scratch. I’m psyching myself up to get through the rest of this shit. We ain’t out of the woods yet.”

  Miller stopped and stiffened and put up a hand. She sensed the zombie one second before Dudley growled. “Freeze!”

  That was all she had a chance to say. An albino creature in a summer dress burst out of a rotting pile of cardboard boxes. It was on top of Rat in an instant. Miller could only see its silhouette against a dim light at the end of the tunnel. Rat shouted and struggled to somehow get her weapon free without getting bitten. Miller aimed but couldn’t fire for fear of hitting Rat. A second later Scratch ran closer, accidentally getting in the way. Miller lowered her rifle, frustrated, and went forward to help out.

  “Eyes open, everybody,” Miller said as she ran. “Watch out for more.”

  Rat broke free of the zombie. As Miller watched—her eyes still nearly blind in the almost total dark—Rat turned and smashed it in the face with the butt of her rifle. She crushed its skull with one savage blow and stepped away, panting. Before anyone could speak, a second zombie appeared. It attacked Rat from the other side. Things became a blur. Now Miller could barely make out what was happening.

  Rat grunted. She was losing the fight.

  Miller moved without thinking. She tackled the second zombie, heedless that it might bite her too, and together they went down to the ground. She rolled over and wound up on top of the thing. It made that ugly, throaty sound unhhh hunhhh hunhhh and Miller snarled in response. She used her rifle to smash its face. Blood and splintered bone splattered her clothing and bare arms. The whole event took three seconds, but for Miller time had slowed down again. Meanwhile Rat remained behind her somewhere, still gasping for air. And then Miller heard more movement up ahead.

  “Watch for an ambush!” she shouted as she hit the second zombie agai
n, but it would not stay down. One hand grabbed at her face. Miller reared back and got some space. Then she turned the rifle around, jammed the barrel into its mouth and unloaded a three shot burst. The bullets crashed through its skull and went skipping off into the darkness like hot stones.

  One of the bullets also bounced off the concrete wall and blew out the nearest overhead light.

  The world was plunged into darkness. All the flashlights were dead. Everyone stood frozen in place. Something attacked from their rear. People milled around, shouting and afraid to fire in the dark. It took a few seconds for everyone to quiet down.

  Someone in their group was screaming in agony.

  Miller didn’t immediately recognize the high-pitched voice. It was too distorted by pain and anguish, and that gave her a sliver of hope that it wasn’t Scratch who had been wounded. The odds had turned against them. A third zombie had attacked. Albinos weren’t supposed to do triads, but apparently no one told this group.

  “Brandon!” shouted Sheppard. “Shit!”

  His tortured voice said it all. Brandon had been bitten. Miller had no time to think about anything else. They were trapped, and stuck in the darkness to boot. And now something else had just gone wrong. Scratch ran to help Sheppard. There were some thumping sounds in the darkness as someone pummeled the new arrival.

  “One more!” she shouted. “One more.”

  “Where?” It was Scratch.

  “Don’t know, but it’s here.” She could feel its presence, drawing her to it—or perhaps, drawing it to her, which was her biggest fear. It had to be there somewhere.

  Miller could hear Rat moaning.

  “Rat! Rat, talk to me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Penny. That was a fucking rookie mistake. I…”

  Miller headed toward the sound of Rat’s voice. “Form up on me, everyone,” said Miller.

  “Where are you?” whispered Scratch.

  “Here, I’m here!”

  Something reached out and grabbed her. She grabbed it back and twisted the wrist and raised her rifle in her other hand.