The Apocalypse War: The Undead World Novel 7

by Meredith, Peter

  Duke Baldwin was going to do something to her; something bad judging by the reaction of the other women on the bus. She feared that he was going to put a baby inside of her. She was too small for a baby. She would be split wide open by it and her guts would pour out onto the dirt.

  The thought had her going limp and, as Kay was in an awkward position with the heavy weight, they both toppled off the last step to land on the shoulder of the road where gravel bit into their hands.

  Kay cried out since the handcuffs on the dumbbell had already chaffed away a good deal of skin and the remainder split and began to bleed. This infuriated Baldwin, who raised a hand to strike the woman, yet the blow did not fall. Just then there came a loud rumble from out of the west.

  With his hand still raised, Baldwin turned to stare in the direction of the sound. Seconds later there came a flash of light from over the mountain. It lit up the darkness and was followed seconds later by the roar of an explosion that bounced along the rock walls of the highway.

  “That can’t be,” Baldwin said.

  “What is it?” Jillybean whispered.

  Reluctantly and with a fading voice, Eve answered: Artillery.

  The explosions continued, lighting up the sky and dimming the stars. The sex slaves on the bus were much encouraged by it. They crowded to one side of the bus and stared out, wearing broad grins as if they were kids watching a fireworks show.

  Even Baldwin was caught staring. His brother Menis came hobbling out of the dark. “What the fuck is this?” he demanded.

  Baldwin jerked in surprise. “Huh? Menis is that you? I was just...I was just...” He turned and pointed at Kay and Jillybean, his mouth opening and closing like a landed trout as he tried to think of something to say. Eventually, he came up with: “I was bringing them to see you. I figured you’d want to see the girl.”

  Menis looked into the frightened eyes of Jillybean. What he saw there, she didn’t know. He was slow in answering. “I do. I knew we were celebrating a bit prematurely. Help them up. We should be with Augustus.”

  Jillybean was lifted to her feet by Baldwin; his grip on her arm was hard as iron. There was a warning look in his eyes—he didn’t want her to say anything about what had almost happened. With a final, harder pinch, he let go and repeated the same process with Kay.

  “Keep her quiet,” Duke Baldwin whispered to Kay.

  She nodded back. “She’ll be quiet, I promise.” Jillybean didn’t know what she was supposed to be quiet about. She could be as quiet as anyone except for maybe Captain Grey who could walk through broken glass without making a sound. But was she supposed to be quiet about nearly being forced into being a sex worker? There was no way she would...except, who was she going to tell? Menis didn’t seem to care about her at all; he only wanted to use her. That was true for the king as well. Kay was supposed to be her friend, but she was so very chicken that it was hard to tell.

  Don’t trust any of them, Eve said. Before Jillybean could whisper a ‘No duh’, the voice in her head went on: Find a way to kill them.

  The thought rattled her because there wasn’t any good reason why she shouldn’t kill them. For once she had to agree with Eve, and Jillybean thought it a very bad sign.

  Despite his wounded ankle, Duke Menis could get along very quickly on his crutches. The king had set up his tent fifty yards away and Menis beat Baldwin, Kay and Jillybean there by ten yards.

  The king’s tent was a long and tall, white affair, something like a tent to host outdoor parties in. Before it, roared a bonfire. With the monsters all pushed up the valley, the king and his brothers and a number of beautiful women sat around it, completely safe.

  “Just in time to see the show, my brothers,” Duke Paulus said. He was smiling but he was the only one. Everyone else had been hoping that the zombies had done the hard work for them.

  The king had brought his grand damask-covered chair with him to the battlefield and now it was close enough to the fire for him to roast meat over the flames. Everyone else sat on folding chairs and seemed so much smaller and insignificant than the king. He coughed up something, chewed it for a second and then spat it into the fire where it hissed.

  Augustus waited for the hissing to die away before saying: “Just get on with it.”

  “Of course,” Paulus said. “We just have to wait on the computer to do its thing. This isn’t easy you know. There is a lot of high-tech gadgetry involved. For instance there are two radars set up on those two peaks.” He pointed up at two tall hills. “They feed data into the tracking computer and that allows us to triangulate the position of the enemy artillery.”

  “Will it work?” Augustus demanded. “That’s all I want to know.”

  Paulus’ smile dimmed slightly. “Yes. My man and I tested it a month ago. It was...wait! I have a green light!” He turned to look down the road where the 155mm howitzers were parked. With the dark and the distance, they were only strange needle-nosed machines to Jillybean. “On my mark,” Paulus said into a radio, speaking with much importance. “Three, two, one—fire!”

  A great orange blast of flame erupted from the muzzles of the howitzers. It was a blinding strobe light that had Jillybean trying to blink away bright blobs from her vision. Everyone around the fire sat quietly with their heads cocked as they listened for the distant explosions. When the rumble came to them, they broke into grins.

  “Reload!” Paulus ordered into the radio. He looked at his watch and when thirty seconds had passed, he said: “On my mark. Three, two, one—fire!” Again, the dark was interrupted by a flash and a blast of sound. Again, everyone listened and when the sound came this time, they cheered.

  “You better give them one more round,” Augustus told his brother, “just to be on the safe side.”

  Paulus was only too happy to obey. When he had gone through the sequence and the air shook and more people died in the valley, and there was only silence from the west, the Azael clapped their hands. Paulus bowed to his brother, the king, and said: “Now that I have destroyed their artillery, they will be helpless against us. Whatever walls they have left, I can blow to smithereens. They will be at our mercy.”

  “My mercy, I think you mean,” Augustus said.

  Again Paulus bowed. “Of course, my brother and my king. It is your mercy that they will have to rely on because I will rain fire down on their heads. By noon tomorrow, my artillery will wipe away all opposition and the stiffs will flood that valley. The soldiers will have no choice but to run or hide.”

  “Noon?” Menis asked with an air of innocence. “Why not blast them away now?”

  A twitch turned part of Paulus’ smile down, but only for a second. “Because my spotters need to be able to see their targets. I guess they didn’t teach you this in school, Menis, but radar works on the principle of line of sight. It can’t see through mountains.”

  There was general laughter at this to which Menis smiled dangerously. When Paulus started going on about what a stroke of genius it had been of his to bring the artillery and how he was even then ready to send his spotters out so that they would be in position at first light, Menis bent down and whispered in Jillybean’s ear: “Why won’t this work?”

  Surprised at the question, Jillybean could only shrug her slim shoulders. “It will work. I know what ‘splosions are and what bombs are. If there are walls, a bomb will blow them up.”

  “That’s all you have for me?” Menis asked, icily. “You are here only because of your brains. You had better use them or I will find another use for you, one you won’t care for.”

  The threat proved valuable. Jillybean’s mind clicked into overdrive as she examined the variables before her: artillery, targets, spotters, ‘splosions, and walls. The most obvious reason why Paulus’ plan wouldn’t work was that his artillery could miss their targets.

  That’s what spotters are for, stupid head, Eve said in her usual unhelpful manner.

  No other answer came to mind. Experience had taught her that no wall was strong
enough to stop bombs. Paulus’ plan would work unless... Jillybean had simply thrown the ‘unless’ in there since her future rested on finding one.

  There had to be an ‘unless.’ She stepped around Duke Menis so that the fire was behind her and she could see down the road a bit. The king had halted his human army well back; there were thousands of them, some in the bright armor that Brad Crane wore, but most were dressed in the mad swirl of the multi-hued scarves.

  Strangely, none wore the camouflage that Captain Grey was always uniformed in. Right away, she saw that was an enormous mistake on their part. The scarf outfits were ‘good enough’ to fool the monsters, but against the soldiers of the valley the Azael would be ideal targets.

  “Excuse me, Mister Duke Paulus, sir,” Jillybean said, breaking in on the king’s brother as he spoke at length.

  At first he glared; however, there was still enough of the old mores left in the group that it seemed impolite to be harsh to a little girl when she was as cute as Jillybean was. Displaying a faux fatherly air, he asked: “Yes?”

  “Can I ask where your spotters are?”

  Now Paulus let his sneer show. “What’s that to you?”

  “Because...” She paused to glance up at Menis. “I think I see a mistake in your plan.”

  Menis stepped up next to her, quickly. “A mistake?” he asked with surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “Uh...yeah,” she answered, uncertainly. Hadn’t the duke asked her to find a problem? “I think so, Mister Duke, sir. If the spotters are you Azael guys, they’ll be dressed in the scarves and the army guys will be dressed as bushes, you see? The army guys from the valley are super-good shots. Captain Grey, he was this real brave man who helped us out sometimes, was a real good shooter. He could kill a monster from, like, a mile away. And he’s real smart, too. He knows all about bombs and artillery. He’s going to guess right where your spotters are gonna be and then…” She mimicked being shot in the heart.

  Duke Menis clapped Jillybean on the shoulder and gave her a warm squeeze. The rest of people around the fire checked the enthusiasm they’d been displaying and turned to Paulus with questioning eyes.

  “We have camo, too,” Paulus declared. “We’ll have them decked out. It’ll be no problem.”

  The king spat again into the fire, sending up a wisp of smoke and another fresh sizzle. “Camo won’t cut it with these guys.” He gazed up at the peaks for a moment before adding: “If I was them, I’d be sending men up there right now. They aren’t stupid, Paulus.”

  “Maybe it’s a chance we have to take,” countered Paulus. “Casualties of war and all that.”

  The king ground his teeth at this and his stare was as hot as the fire. “I expect casualties but we don’t throw away men uselessly. We either send a thousand men up there or we don’t send any at all, and it’s way too early in the game for something like that.”

  “I can send a company up to each…” Paulus began, but the king stomped his foot in the dirt, quieting him.

  “This fight isn’t going to be about who controls the peaks. A fight like that plays right into their hands. It’s where they excel. They’ll see your men coming a mile away. Son of a bitch! We need to fight our fight, and part of that means using our zombie army to its utmost, which means we need to break down their walls. Any suggestions?”

  His dark eyes went right to Jillybean and her soft, downy brows lifted slightly. Was he expecting her to dictate the direction of his battle for him? When no one else said or did anything besides examine the tops of their shoes or follow the licking flames jumping off the bonfire, she said: “You can still use the guns. You just have to…”

  She stopped suddenly as she realized what she was doing. She was giving her enemies the means to kill her friends. That wasn’t right. It was far from right.

  Having started the sentence, she couldn’t exactly leave it unfinished. She wanted to say something really smart-allecky to cover her slip, however nothing came to mind. You can tell them to shove the guns up their asses and pull the triggers, Eve suggested.

  Jillybean blushed at the suggestion.

  The king glowered as he waited for an answer. “Well? What do we have to do?”

  Ideas failed her, but not her courage. “You can shove those guns up you’re a-asses and uh, pull the triggers.” The sentence had started loud enough but had finished only slightly louder than a whisper. The king’s glare had turned ferocious.

  “Maybe it’s time we remind her who’s in charge here,” the king said. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Kay. The woman folded at the knees and immediately began begging. She was wasting her breath. The Azael understood pain and screams. Begging only egged them on.

  As Brad rushed forward with murder in his eyes, Jillybean steeled herself for what was to come. They would test her by hurting Kay and maybe herself. None of that should matter, she told herself. There were more lives at stake than theirs.

  Just as she expected, Brad, almost gleefully, began to beat Kay. He swung his fists without mercy and soon blood was flying.

  “I’m s-so sorry,” Jillybean said to Kay. She wanted more than anything to run away, but they were handcuffed together. The best she could do was to turn her head away and she was in a perfect position to see the king roll his eyes.

  “Give the girl a whack,” he said. “Just don’t ruin her sales value.”

  Jillybean turned to Brad just as he swung his hand. He wasn’t gentle. The open-handed blow struck her flush on the cheek. Her head rocked back and her eyes were pinned to the dark sky above. Another blow struck her, but she could barely feel it. She was falling into the black and then a voice was speaking.

  It was a high, child’s voice. “Is that all you got? You hit like a pussy.” It was Eve. She was back in charge.

  Chapter 10

  Jillybean

  Brad Crane smacked her again, but Eve only grinned through the blood. “Pussy,” she hissed, daring him on. He struck her again, harder and Jillybean’s body reeled along a short curve defined by the length of her and Kay’s arms. She toppled onto the highway and again she found herself staring up at the black.

  Eve’s mind spun in a vast circle with the dust of the Milky Way in its center. For a moment no one was in control of their shared body and Jillybean was able to jump back in—though why she wanted to, was beyond her. Her mind was a see-saw and her soul held all the rhythm and music of a cowbell. Her head ached and her face felt raw. Next to her, Kay was nothing but a ball of quivering flesh and a mat of black hair covered in blood and tears.

  “Now the other one,” Augustus said.

  Jillybean felt instant relief that she wasn’t going to be hit again, which gave way to the pain of guilt. Brad punched Kay for all he was worth. She begged in the shrill cry of a dying hog, not for Brad to stop, but for Jillybean to tell them what they wanted to know.

  “No,” Jillybean said in a whisper. She was able to get to her knees, but that was all. Her muscles were jittery and the tears on her red cheeks were like diamonds in the firelight. “I-I can’t. T-Two lives are meaningless. You c-can kill us both,” she dared the king.

  “Don’t listen to her!” screeched Kay at the top of her lungs.

  This seemed almost a catalyst for Brad’s volcanic anger; he started stomping on Kay. His knees would piston up and then shoot down; on his feet were cowboy boots with two-inch heels. They came down with such force that Kay could no longer scream, she could only grunt from the blows.

  Jillybean, though attached to the woman by handcuffs, stoically looked away. She wished with all her might that she was far away; miles away. Jillybean felt every blow the woman suffered as if she was being the one tortured and still she did not relent.

  Finally, the king put up a hand. Brad stopped at once. “Empty the bus. Tie up the girls and bring them here. We’ll see how many lives it will take for this girl to agree to talk.”

  In a flash, Jillybean calculated the number of women on the bus: an average of two per row, tim
es sixteen rows. She didn’t know enough math to carry numbers. She could only break it down into sets: two tens were twenty; added to this was two sixes which she knew to be twelve. A sum of thirty two.

  The number staggered the little girl.

  You might as well give up, Eve said. There is no way you can watch thirty two women beaten to death in front of you. You’ll give in. You’ll talk. You’ll betray your friends and you’ll never see them alive again, and I’ll take over. You’ll be mine. You should give in now and let me have the body. I know what to do with it.

  A sudden image of Jillybean gleefully slitting the king’s throat came to her. It made her want to puke. It made her want to faint and, again, the night spun. Her head dropped and her fly-away brown hair hung before her face so that no one saw the look of victory in Eve’s blue eyes as a smile suddenly broke across her face

  Jillybean had weakened and now Eve was back!

  “Stop,” Eve said, as she stood. The word carried all the force of a royal order. Brad turned back to stare at her, expectantly; everyone around the fire had the same look. She loved how they looked to her, how they needed her. She wanted to prolong the moment but she could already feel Jillybean fighting back. “You can’t dress in scarves,” she said, looking pointedly at Paulus. “They’ll kill you, easily. And you can’t go up to the peaks. They’ll expect it and then they’ll kill you.”

  “Right,” Paulus insisted. “You said that, already.”

  Eve’s eyes flared up at the interruption. She had a sudden desire to throw him into the fire and watch him burn. The picture in her mind almost distracted her enough for Jillybean to take over again. Quickly, she said: “Your only chance is to have your spotter mix in with the monsters. You can get in close but only if you dress like them and act like them and be them.”