Zombie Apocalypse Series Box Set, Vol. 2 [Books 4-7]

by DeGordick, Jeff

  Though she was still fading, the rest seemed to help Sarah as the fatigue of being pulled and dragged all that way was really quite draining on her. She seemed to regain a little bit of life and was able to open her eyes and survey their situation. Wayne helped her to the edge of the roof so she could take a look down below.

  "They're all down there... looking at us," she said. Her eyes drew across the crowd until she spotted the killer amongst their ranks, the twisted smile standing out in a sea of stone faces. He just stood there and looked up, more still than the rest of them. And she heard his soft giggle.

  "What's that?" Wayne asked, unfamiliar with the killer and his strange noises.

  "Don't worry about it," she said, not having the energy to explain. "Get me up to my feet."

  Wayne picked himself up and slowly hoisted her up too, wrapping her arm back over his shoulders. She had him bring her across the rooftops to check the backside of the strip mall as the zombies prowled around on the ground below, watching them.

  "There's a fire escape going down a level," she said weakly. "Ten o'clock."

  She helped Wayne over to it, and they carefully navigated their way down to a door leading to the second floor of the interior of one of the stores in the strip mall. Wayne pulled the door open and dragged her through, and when he asked her what she saw, she replied that she saw absolutely nothing.

  Whatever store they were in, it was pitch-black, no sunlight whatsoever coming from anywhere. When Wayne realized this, he suddenly found it much easier to navigate. Getting away from the zombies bought them a little bit of time, and the interior of the store was much quieter than being outside and chased by the undead. He was able to take his time and feel around, using his senses to navigate them better than Sarah could have in that moment, even if she were healthy.

  They heard some of the zombies enter the store from the floor below them, but Wayne was able to get them down to the first floor, not concerned with the corpses as he navigated them through their weak spots by his sense of sound and feel alone.

  Keeping absolutely silent, Wayne found a door leading to a maintenance tunnel in the back of the building that stretched across all the stores in the strip mall. They used it to make their escape and came out a door on the other side. Wayne opened it and immediately felt the afternoon sun shining on his face again.

  "Do you see any of them around?" he asked Sarah. "Sarah?"

  But she was unresponsive, and when he tried jostling her and waking her up, she didn't display any positive sign at all. He stopped and listened to her breathing, then he pressed his fingers to her neck and felt her heartbeat.

  It wasn't good. She was very weak.

  Wayne was on his own as he brought her away from the strip mall. Now that they seemed to be away from the danger, not hearing the zombies following them, he picked Sarah up and laid her whole body across his shoulders as he continued the remainder of the way, letting her rest a bit more.

  He slowly made his way through residential streets and stumbled up a driveway. He opened the front door to the house and they went inside to musty carpets and dingy rooms. Patting his hand around all the walls and furniture, he found his way to a bedroom at the back of the hall on the first floor. He lowered her and gently placed her body on the mattress.

  She let out a long rasp, like her body was crying out in joy now that she had a proper place to rest. Sarah opened her mouth and muttered something, but Wayne couldn't hear it. He leaned his head closer to her and asked her what she said.

  "You have to complete it," she whispered. She slowly lifted her arm and took out the two boxes of galanin she'd placed in a pouch, holding them out for him.

  Then she passed out completely and her arm went limp, spilling the boxes across the bed.

  Wayne wanted to stay and take care of her, doing anything he could to try and bring her back to life, but he didn't know that he had the ability to do anything at all. Her fate seemed to be in God's hands. But then he thought of another way.

  He looked over at the boxes of galanin and recalled the video that he listened to in the lab. Sarah took detailed notes, but Wayne could only remember the words in his memory. And he remembered Ron mentioning that the project, as a natural byproduct of turning the degenerated zombies back into their human form, could effect tissue regeneration. He placed his hand on Sarah's stomach and felt it rise and fall very slowly and very shallowly.

  He didn't know if it would work, but he had to try.

  It was her only hope.

  Wayne stood in the lab, listening to the dull hum of electricity running through the machinery and lab equipment.

  It was very difficult for him to find his way back there, and he had racked his brain to try and figure out how he'd arrived at the house where he left Sarah. In trying to get to the lab, he used the feel of the sun on his skin and the angle to determine the approximate time of day and which direction he was facing. Then he retraced his memory of where they had traveled from the cabin to get to the training facility, then all the directions they had taken from the training facility to the house. He slowly cobbled all the information together in his head and figured out a general direction. He adjusted it on his way as necessary, being careful of his surroundings and making sure not to run into anything dangerous. When he got close to the woods, things began to sound familiar, and he started to find that even each section of woodland had its own unique sound due to the specific fauna or insects or even the density of the trees swaying together in the wind.

  Wayne found his way to the tunnel and hurried to the other side. Sarah never explained her exact method on how she opened the passageway and got into the lab, but he remembered hearing her slapping her hand against the brick, and he did the same. It took him a long time of trial and error, but eventually his fingers found the right one and the passageway door opened. He hurried to the other end and felt around the brick, coming up with nothing. He felt the walls to either side of him and then the floor and the ceiling, but he couldn't find how to get into the lab through the second door. Finally, trying all the edges between walls, his fingers eventually found the thin crevice between the secret door and the ceiling.

  Standing in the lab now, he placed the boxes of galanin on a workstation. Ron had been in the woods when he made his video and wasn't able to actually show Sarah what each piece of equipment looked like that he was talking about or give her a hands-on demonstration, so his auditory description was perfect for Wayne, and he went over his memories of listening to the video very, very carefully; he knew if he got this wrong at this point, it would spell catastrophe not only for Sarah, but for the entire human race. And even though he was in a hurry to try and save her life, he took his time and worked his way around the lab, feeling the varied surfaces of every piece of equipment, every workstation, every desk and chair, and all the other odds and ends.

  Ron's instructions had been simple and he set up the project for Sarah in a way where she wouldn't have to do much; it was just a matter of bringing in the final item and taking a few samples they already had stored, running them through a few pieces of scientific equipment, and coming out with the end result. Wayne second-guessed himself at every step for the sake of accuracy, and he only proceeded when he was sure of his memory.

  After following through each step precisely, a piece of equipment he thought Ron had called a centrifuge produced a large vial of liquid. He carefully took it and gave it a very light shake between his fingers, feeling the solution sloshing around inside to confirm that he had the product. Next, he opened the drawer where Ron said he would find syringes, and he took a handful of them just in case.

  With that, the Eden Project—the true Eden Project—was complete. He took a moment to move his head around the lab and listen. The silence depressed him, knowing that after all the years and sacrifice that was put into this project, and even how much Sarah had been involved at the end, that it was he himself who had come in at the end to finish it off. It felt like a huge producti
on that limped over the finish line with the most pathetic fanfare imaginable, but he shook off the feeling.

  When he double checked that he had everything and that the cure was placed securely on his person, he left.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on her forehead. Her skin wasn't even clammy anymore; it just felt cold. He pressed his fingers to her neck to feel her pulse. She was barely alive. Her breathing was extremely slow and shallow, and her mouth hung open with a slight part, already looking like she was deceased.

  Wayne took the syringe out of one of the packages and inserted the needle into the cap of the vial. He extracted some of the cure and pulled it out. Very carefully, he lifted the inside of her elbow, pressing around with his fingers to find a vein. When he found one, he kept his finger on it for reference, then he slowly inserted the needle and pressed the plunger to administer the cure into her bloodstream. When the syringe was empty, he pulled it out and held his thumb over the needle mark. When he knew the bleeding had coagulated on that spot, he ran his hand up her arm and prayed for her.

  He leaned over and kissed her on the lips, and he held himself there, like he was breathing life back into her. He felt her cold breath on his, and he pulled his head back.

  "Come back to me, baby... Come back to me..."

  He brushed the hair on her forehead over her ear and kissed her again, then he just tenderly rested his fingertips on her cheek.

  "I love you."

  15

  Hell on Earth

  Wayne nervously sat at the edge of Sarah's bed, resting his hand on her leg and feeling every little pulse and twitch in her body. He waited for a sign that the injection did anything to her, but still she seemed so weak. But he refused to believe that Sarah was going to die; the cure had to work.

  He wiped the sweat accumulating on her forehead. Then he leaned in and kissed her there.

  "Hold tight," he said as she rested in her comatose state.

  "Sir, the shipments are ready," the soldier told him.

  "Manifest," Glass replied, holding out his hand.

  The soldier handed him a clipboard with several pages attached to it. He read over the extensive list, flipping through each page to make sure everything was there. He stuffed the clipboard into the soldier's chest, who took it and went away. Glass walked across his office and picked up a radio. "Green light," he said.

  "Roger that, sir."

  He took the hat off his desk and secured it on his head. He walked to the balcony doors in long strides, opening them and stepping outside. He placed his hands on the railing and looked upon the landscape before him.

  The sunset washed across the sky on the warm summer's night, and he didn't think he'd seen such a beautiful one before.

  Glass smiled.

  Sandra dusted the vases in one of the second floor hallways. She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye through the window, and she turned her head to look.

  A Humvee drove by the front of the mansion and went to the front gate. The gate opened, revealing the path down the road, but the Humvee didn't move.

  Then another Humvee with a soldier on the turret drove up behind it, followed by another one.

  A tractor-trailer pulled up behind the triangle of Humvees.

  Then another.

  Then another.

  The Humvee guard in the front rolled out and the tractor-trailers followed. Sandra stopped in mid-dust as she watched the procession of tractor-trailers crawl out of the bowels of the mansion like ants pouring out of a hill. So many of them had left that she lost count.

  A dozen, she thought.

  No, two dozen.

  Fifty?

  A hundred?

  When the line finally stopped, what seemed like an entire fleet of Humvees followed, many of them pulling ahead and taking up the sides along the enormous conga line of trucks.

  Sandra had no idea what was going on, but it made her stomach do flips.

  The next day, in the middle of the afternoon, Wayne was in the kitchen of the small house he had taken Sarah to, not far from the training facility.

  Sarah had slept all through the rest of the evening and the night, and he was thrilled to see that she didn't pass away like he feared she would. He left her in the bedroom to rest now, hoping that it was all a good sign, as he pried open a can of food that he found in the cupboard.

  But just as he brought it up to his mouth and began to shovel it inside, he heard a noise from her bedroom. He set the food down and walked into the hallway, his heart pounding.

  He rounded the corner and stood in the doorway, listening to her.

  Sarah was still unconscious, but she began to lightly roll around, her arm and her legs softly twitching every so often. He didn't want to disturb her, so he let her rest, but the sound of her movement was an amazing sign.

  He wiped the tears from his face and turned back to the kitchen, feeling his heart sing.

  David stood in the elevator and Ron stood behind him. One of Ron's aides held onto the pole with the looped collar around his small neck. The soldier escorting them looked uncomfortable standing next to a zombie, even if it was a little kid. Ron wore a faint smile on his face as he stared at the elevator doors in front of them. He glanced down at David, holding his gaze on the back of his head, but he looked away before he appeared attached.

  When they arrived on the third floor, the doors opened and the guard escorted them along the hallway toward Glass's office.

  The soldiers stationed at the security checkpoint stopped them and checked out each of the men, themselves pretty leery of David. But David only looked up at them with weary eyes, uninterested in what they thought he wanted to do to them.

  When it came time to inspect David, the soldiers eyed him from a distance, not wanting to get close to him. They exchanged an awkward look with Ron and his aide, then they shrugged and let them all by.

  Their escort led them into Glass's office and stood guard. Glass was already standing on the balcony, and Ron told his aide that he would take it from there. The aide nodded appreciatively and handed the pole to Ron before hurrying out of there.

  Glass turned around and stared at David through the balcony doors. He concentrated on the boy, and then David's eyes seemed to sharpen. David reached up and loosened the rubber collar around his neck, slipping his head out of it. He slowly walked to the balcony doors and opened them, going right up to Glass and stopping in front of him. He looked up at the giant man and waited.

  Glass walked around behind him, and guided David forward to the edge of the balcony. He was just tall enough to see over the railing, and he rested his hands on it as Glass rested his hands on David's shoulders.

  "Is he ready?" Glass asked through the open doors.

  "Yes, the serum has been administered," Ron replied. He stood behind them and watched, but stayed in the office.

  As David and Glass stared off into the distance, Glass concentrated, and so David concentrated.

  The bandit sat on a milk crate and picked the rabbit out of his teeth with the tip of his knife. The night was cool and an unsettling mist had rolled in on Charlotte. The man rubbed his bare shoulder, his skin feeling slimy in the dense fog. He had watch on the north side of the road for the night. He hated watch, but at least the forest looked sort of cool in the vague whiteness, he thought.

  When he was done cleaning his teeth, he leaned forward and stabbed the knife into the asphalt in front of him, spinning it around and listening to the soft scraping sound. Most of the other bandits were asleep on their flimsy mattresses and cots, stuffed in their tents. A barrel burned in the middle of the camp for some light, but the way the moon shined on the mist, it made things a lot brighter than it usually was.

  The bandit started to turn his head over his shoulder as he pulled the tip of the knife back into his teeth, but something down the road in front of him made him look back. He leaned forward on his crate, peering into the mist.

  "What is that?" he muttered.
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br />   There was a figure in the distance, small and shrouded. But the shape was nebulous and shifting, never staying consistent. He blinked his eyes a couple of times and realized that there was more than one figure.

  "Hey, boys!" he said in something between a whisper and a shout. "I think we got ourselves some ambush potential!"

  The other bandits on guard, and the few that weren't really asleep but just counting the stitches on the inner slopes of their tents, sauntered up behind to see what was going on.

  They all squinted into the mist, trading opinions on what they were seeing. But when the strange shapes got close enough that they could start hearing the noises accompanying them, they all felt their stomachs drop and their dreams of treasure disperse into the mist.

  "Jesus!" one of them cried.

  They scrambled to get any weapons they could find, as the sleeping bandits in the tents began to wake up. The undead rushed down the street for them, covering the whole road. The bandits lined up on the north side of the camp and opened fire. They thought the shots were simply missing, maybe because the mist shrouded their vision and affected their aim, but when the horde came close enough and they knew for a fact they were landing their shots, and the gunfire did nothing to stop them, they started to flee in terror.

  The new breed of the undead tore into their camp on the road like a hurricane. Bullets sunk into their skin by only half an inch or so, even most of the shots landing on their skulls glancing off. Occasionally they landed a lucky bullet that went up through a zombie's eye socket and wedged into its brain, killing it, but the vast majority of them seemed unstoppable.

  These new zombies were stronger and more vicious than ever, and bandit innards and entrails started flying through the mist-shrouded air.

  The bandit who'd spotted them in the first place held the trigger down on his AK-47 until the gun clicked and he knew he was out of ammo. A dreadful whine of fear inadvertently escaped his throat as he tossed his weapon away and tried to flee. But then he felt a cold hand grab him by the shoulder and spin him around. A clawed hand slashed his throat and the zombie's fingernails tore right through his jugular. He hit the ground immediately and started bleeding out in copious spurts as the zombie fell on him and started chewing his face.