by Dana Fredsti
Contents
Cover
Praise for Plague Nation
Praise for Plague Town
Also by Dana Fredsti
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also Available from Titan Books
Praise for PLAGUE NATION
“Fast, furious, and fun: Plague Nation takes the promise of Plague Town and builds upon it, delivering bigger and better zombie mayhem.”
MIRA GRANT, author of the NEWSFLESH TRILOGY
“If you like your heroines smart and sassy and kick ass capable, Ashley Parker has what you need. And Plague Nation is exactly what the zombie genre needed.”
JOE MCKINNEY, Stoker Award-winning author of FLESH EATERS and INHERITANCE
“Plague Nation is a rollicking zombie thriller packed with action, chills, and biting humor. Brava!”
JONATHAN MABERRY, New York Times bestselling author of PATIENT ZERO, FIRE AND ASH, and DEAD OF NIGHT
“Snarky humor, lots of zombies (gore and all), and plenty of edge-of-your-seat action.”
LONG AND SHORT REVIEWS
Praise for PLAGUE TOWN
One of the Top Ten Zombie Releases of 2012
BARNESANDNOBLE.COM
“A gruesomely good read that has me panting for the next book in the series. As hard to put down as a swarm of zombies.
KAT RICHARDSON, bestselling author of the GREYWALKER novels
“In Plague Town, Dana Fredsti has created something truly unique in the world of horror fiction—a cool, hip zombie apocalypse novel. With crisp writing, a cast of memorable characters, and tons of undead combat action, it’s a zombie lover’s literary dream. When the dead rise, I’ll want the wild cards by my side.”
ROGER MA, author of THE ZOMBIE COMBAT MANUAL
“Fredsti’s writing is razor sharp as her heroes fight off the horde while fighting their attraction for each other.”
STACEY GRAHAM, author of THE ZOMBIE DATING GUIDE
“Plague Town is a fast-moving zombie tale that reads like a blast of energy. If you like zombie apocalypse stories, this is a must read!”
LOIS GRESH, New York Times bestselling author of BLOOD AND ICE and ELDRITCH EVOLUTIONS
“Chills and thrills for that season when you’re looking for—chills and thrills!”
HEATHER GRAHAM, author of HALLOWED GROUND and the FLYNN BROTHERS TRILOGY
“Dana Fredsti has created a world as familiar as our own back yard and populated it with recognizable people we care about… and zombies. Plague Town will have you turning pages fast… and checking the locks on all the doors.”
RAY GARTON, author of LIVE GIRLS and SEX AND VIOLENCE IN HOLLYWOOD
“As adorable an end of the world as you’re liable to get… a brisk, witty ultraviolent romantic gurlventure…”
GINA MCQUEEN, author of OPPOSITE SEX and APOCALYPSE AS FOREPLAY
“More action than season two of The Walking Dead.”
HORROR TALK
“A diverting, entertaining zombie siege novel—complete with all the delicious, bone-crunching, blood-gushing awesomeness a zombie lover could ever want.”
BOOK SMUGGLERS
“While Plague Town is a really fun and action-packed ride, one cannot dismiss the darkness at the center of it all. There are sections laced throughout written from the perspective of the innocent people as they are turning into zombies… an emotional core that grounds the novel and keeps it from being just a shallow action/horror romp.”
STRANGE AMUSEMENTS
“Read it—I zombie dare you. Fun, fast, read.”
AFFAIRS MAGAZINE
“If you love zombies, strong, sarcastic heroines with heart, and fight scenes that will knock your socks off, you’ll devour Plague Town!”
MY BOOKISH WAYS
“Delightfully gruesome.”
NERDS IN BABELAND
“It’s funny, scary, gory, sexy and goes a mile a minute.”
CULTURE BRATS
“If you like butt-kicking heroines with a fair dose of snark and humor, then you’re going to love Ashley.”
GEEK MOM
BOOKS BY
DANA FREDSTI
THE ASHLEY PARKER NOVELS
Plague Town
Plague Nation
Plague World
A Man’s Gotta Eat What a Man’s Gotta Eat (e-original novella)
Murder For Hire: The Peruvian Pigeon
PLAGUE WORLD
Print edition ISBN: 9780857686374
E-book edition ISBN: 9780857686404
Published by Titan Books
A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd
144 Southwark St, London SE1 0UP
First edition: July 2013
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Dana Fredsti asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Copyright © 2014 Dana Fredsti
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A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
To my Three Muses
Brian Thomas, T. Chris Martindale,
and David Fitzgerald
PROLOGUE
“Son of a bitch must pay.”
Jack Burton—Big Trouble in Little China
LONDON, ENGLAND
Stavros tried to tune out the hacking coughs, snuffles, snorts and other unpleasant sounds coming from the four passengers he’d picked up at Chelsea Physic Garden. Two women and two men, all wearing power suits and sharing what seemed to be a nasty cold.
Blow your nose, mate, he thought as one of the men gave a snorting inhalation that sounded like a walrus.
He thought about raising the window that separated the driver and passenger portions of the town car, but it seemed a bit rude. It might be taken the wrong way, and one of these corporate types would no doubt complain. So he contented himself with surreptitiously pressing the pump on his ever-present hand sanitizer, tucked into one of the cup holders under the control panel.
There was something about these wankers in their suits, fresh out of their oh-so-important meetings, and the self-importance that pumped them up. It just set Stavros’s hackles on end. All the little slights and the condescension in their voices when they spoke to him… if they bothered to speak to him at all.
He didn’t regret skipping university. He didn’t have any desire to do more than he was doing, but every now and then he wished he had a degree that would allow him to slap one of these posers across their over-educated faces.
Another twenty minutes on the road and he’d be rid of them at Heathrow, so they could spread their germs in their own countries and not make an honest working man too sick to do his job.
* * *
Danny sat in the furthest seat in the back of the town car, huddled against the door in a ball of misery. He’d been sick before, but nothing compared to this—not even the four-day salmonella marathon he’d had in 2005. His body hurt inside and out; even his eyeballs felt as if they were going to crack in half if he blinked.
A line from the Haunted Mansion ride was stuck in his brain, something about hot and cold running chills… He had those, along with the sensation of boiling poison running through his veins and in his forehead.
“You okay, Danny?”
He opened his eyes to see Jan from Digital Media, Holland Division, eying him with superficial concern. Jan was one of those uber-competitive guys who equated the failure of his peers with personal gain. He also made it more than obvious that he lusted after Nita from R&D Sweden, whom Danny had been seeing on the sly for the last year. Jan had made a few comments at the LP meeting, hinting that he knew about the relationship.
“I’m fine.” A wet cough contradicted Danny’s words almost immediately.
Jan smirked with an unattractive twist of his lips that he imagined made him look wry and sexy.
“Too many late nights sampling Swedish meatballs, eh?”
If he hadn’t felt so shitty, Danny would have flipped the asshole off. He closed his eyes instead, and drifted away on a wave of pain that faded into blackness.
* * *
Jan raised an eyebrow and smirked. Danny looked like shit. And he’d been the first to come down with the flu at the annual LP meeting, spreading it around quickly, judging from the coughs and sniffles of many fellow attendees. This was a flu bug that would get to see the world. Maybe Jan should start calling him Typhoid Danny, so no one forgot where it started.
Oh yes, the kind of thing that could dog a person throughout their career… and perhaps even shorten it.
Jan chuckled to himself, only to have the laugh cut off by a sudden tickling in the back of his throat and nose. He sneezed violently, barely catching it behind one hand. His smugness evaporated at the sight of blood mixed in with the spray of spittle on his palm.
And then Danny went into convulsions.
* * *
Stavros frowned as he heard yet more coughing from the back of the town car. Had they never heard of Hall’s?
“Danny?”
The sharp note of concern in the man’s voice caught Stavros’s attention. He glanced back to see the lanky Dutch fellow in the back shaking his seatmate by one shoulder. Blood dribbled out of the man’s eyes, nose, and mouth, his features slack and lifeless.
Shit. He looked dead. A nasty smell hit Stavros’s nose.
The Dutchman recoiled, coughing as he hunkered back against the other side of the car, as far from his seatmate as possible. The two women in the middle seat, also coughing, turned around to see what the fuss was.
“Jan, what is wrong?” A thick South American accent matched the brunette’s exotic Salma Hayek good looks.
“It’s Danny. I think—” the Dutchman coughed again, a wracking, rattling sound like marbles in a can filled with phlegm.
The pneumatic blonde opened her eyes and Stavros winced as he caught sight of her in the rearview mirror. The whites of her eyes were yellow and streaked with red, a counterpoint for the almost startling blue of her corneas.
“Danny?” Her voice was weak and gravelly after all the coughing.
The man in the back gave a sudden convulsion, more foul-smelling fluid leaking from his eyes, mouth, and nose.
The Dutchman next to him vomited.
“I’ll get to hospital,” Stavros said to no one in particular, hitting the “open” button on the driver’s side window in an attempt to cut the thick smell of sickness—a mixture of blood, shit, and rot—which filled the car. He fought the urge to vomit, concentrating instead on finding an exit off the M4 and to some medical attention.
The nearest exit was for Brentford. Stavros didn’t know if there was a hospital, but at the very least they’d have a police station, someone who could help. He didn’t care. He just wanted these people out of his car so he could take it to a car wash and get it detailed, vacuumed, aired out, fumigated, for Christ’s sake, and maybe snort some bleach to get the smell and possible infection out of his nostrils.
Then the bloke Danny opened his eyes. The corneas were now bluish-white, the color of fat-free milk and all the more eerie set against the red-tinged yellow of the his whites. More black fluid dribbled from his mouth, the smell thick and vile in the enclosed car.
“Danny?” The blonde leaned over the seat, relief obvious in her voice. He reached for her, grabbed her head, and pulled her over the seat back on top of his lap, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her neck before anyone could react. Blood sprayed over the leather seats, splashing all of the passengers.
The Dutchman recoiled in horror, only to go into his own convulsions, the same black viscous liquid spewing out of his mouth.
Stavros stared in horror as the sick bloke ripped chunks of flesh from the blonde’s neck, the other passengers recoiling in horror, fingers scrabbling for the door handles. His only thought was to get the hell off the road, out of the car, and away from whatever was wrong with his passengers. So he didn’t bother looking in his rearview mirror when he swerved into the right lane over—directly into the path of an oncoming tanker.
CHAPTER ONE
Bad things happen to good people. Never forget that. The world is not always a fair place. And the dead really do walk the earth. And let me tell you—
That part really sucks.
“How many do you think there are?”
I glanced over at Nathan as I tried to count the rotting corpses shambling toward us on the rooftop of a University of California, San Francisco medical building. Most of the figures heading our way had been octogenarians—and some septuagenarians—when they’d died, which wasn’t surprising, since the building held the geriatric ward. But damn, they were spry for their age.
“No idea.” Nathan took a shot with his M4 and one of the zombies collapsed onto the roof. “But now there’s one less rotting geezer.”
I snorted. “You know, that’s like something Tony would say. I expect better of you. I mean, aren’t you too old for that?”
“You’re never too old for sarcasm.” Nathan nailed another zombie in the head with a
well-placed shot. “Ah, make that two less.”
Okay, Nathan wasn’t all that old. Somewhere in his late forties, early fifties, with one of those lined faces that made it hard to guess his actual age. He also had a “screw you” attitude toward authority that made me predisposed to like him. Well, that, and the fact he’d pulled my ass out of the fire a couple of weeks back, saving me, Lil, and two cats from becoming zombie chow. So I tended to forgive his “hermit with shitty manners” attitude.
This particular building had the only rooftop in the facility with the room to accommodate a helicopter. There were two access doors, one each on the east and west sides of the building. One of them accessed the glass-covered catwalk that led to the Center for Regenerative Medicine. The catwalk also held the James Bondian elevator that went down to the super-secret lab.
We were there to secure the roof and its makeshift helipad with a sloppy red H painted on the concrete, so incoming helicopters carrying the core personnel from Redwood Grove could land safely.
Besides, when it came time to clear zombie infestations, who you gonna call? That’s right. The few, the proud… complete with enhanced strength, agility and senses.
The wild cards.
Although the enhanced sense of smell wasn’t necessarily a gift when dealing with decomposing cannibals.
“Man, this is boring.”
Tony looked at the incoming zombies with dissatisfaction. A nineteen-year-old punk-ass gamer with multiple piercings—most of them empty now due to a particularly painful close encounter with a handsy zombie—he had an attitude that often screamed “Slap me, I’m a jerk.”
Nathan and I both looked at him.
“Boring?” I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Tony said. “If this were a video game, it’d be all like ‘Plug a Granny’ and totally made for five-year-olds.”
“Plug a Granny?”
Nathan snorted, although whether from disgust or amusement I couldn’t tell.
Me? I had to smother a laugh. I mean, it was funny—kind of, in a sick and twisted kind of way, and these days I needed to take humor where I found it. Considering the truly fucked-up state of pretty much everything.
