The Zombie Chronicles - Book 3 - Deadly City (Apocalypse Infection Unleashed Series)

by Peebles, Chrissy

  “What did you see today?” The prosecutor’s voice jolted me back to attention. Crazy or not, I couldn’t understand why the scene in the back didn’t distract anyone else.

  “We were patrolling the area and saw intruders breaking curfew, so we followed protocol.”

  “Indeed.”

  Jake’s voice wavered, as if he was horrified to have to relive the moment. “Two members of their group had broken into the home of Sam Maloney.”

  Also known as Tahoe the creep, I thought to myself.

  “They had terrorized the poor family, so we took off after them.”

  Unable to take it anymore, I stood. “Why don’t you tell them you killed an innocent girl, you hot-headed prick?”

  Nick grabbed my wrist. “Sit down! Outbursts aren’t going to help.”

  I couldn’t understand how my brother managed to say so calm, cool, and collected under the circumstances. I knew how bad the situation was, but all I wanted to do was scream out and tell them what a bunch of lunatics they were.

  The judge banged his gavel on the sound block. “Order in the court! Another disruption like that, Mr…” He looked at the bailiff. “What are their names?”

  “You don’t even know our names?” I shouted. “How is this justice? My name is Dean. Dean Walters!” I pointed to Lucas. “This is Lucas Meadows.” I then pointed to Nick. “This is Nick Walters, my brother. Your gang shot Claire O’Hara and knifed Jackie Shadows. Someone came at me, and I defended myself.”

  “Another outburst, Mr. Walters, and you’ll be taken back to your cell. I won’t have any distractions in my courtroom!” He looked at the lying witness and politely urged, “Please continue.”

  No distractions? Right! There’s a trio of women in the back doing their best impression of a satanic ritual, and I can’t make a statement in my own defense? I was about to say so, but Nick tugged me down. This time I sat.

  “Let Jason tell his side of the story!” a woman cried out.

  “But Jason’s dead,” I whispered.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll get his turn.” The judge motioned to Jake. “Please continue.”

  “Jason tried to arrest them, rightfully so, but that fellow pulled out a knife. His girlfriend tried to talk him down, and he stabbed her, then lunged for Jason. He took his gun and shot him in cold blood,” he lied, offering a piss-poor performance that wouldn’t have fooled anyone. There was no emotion in his voice, and he kept looking at us and smiling. At one point, he actually stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry like a kindergartner, but the judge either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

  When I heard him try to pin Jackie’s death on me, I lost it again. “That’s a lie!” I shouted. The thought of me ever hurting Jackie pierced my heart.

  Lucas stood. “That wasn’t the way it happened.” His nose had finally stopped bleeding, but there was a nasty-looking puddle on the floor, browning around the edges, already congealing as Lucas spoke, his words mangled by the pain of his nose.

  “Young man, you will now pay $100 for having the audacity to bleed all over my courtroom!” the judge told him, completely ignoring what Lucas had said. “I shall tolerate no disrespect!”

  “What? Your crazy bailiff busted my nose!” Lucas screamed. “And he already fined us fifty!”

  “You do not have permission to bleed here, in any case,” the insane judge replied and began writing on a piece of paper. He called over the smiling, singing bailiff and handed the document to him.

  The bailiff handed it to Lucas. Really, it was nothing official—just a scrap of paper with “Fine for bleeding—$100” written across it. As if that homemade ticket wasn’t crazy enough, the judge had actually drawn a little smiley face underneath.

  Lucas rebelliously dropped the paper into the pool of his blood and stared at the bailiff with such an intense hatred that I knew if we did get out of there, that bailiff was going to die painfully.

  “Where’s the justice in this trial?” my brother roared, clearly unable to hold his emotions in any longer. “You’re gonna listen to a murderer? Somebody who’s directly responsible for the death of two innocent girls! What kind of court is this? Your prosecutor looks like a deranged idiot, and the bailiff clearly needs to be in a rubber room and on some very strong medication! On top of that, you, Your Honor, can’t even remember to put your shoes on in the morning, yet you fine my friend for bleeding!”

  Everything in the courtroom stopped, and no one said a word for a moment. The strange women in the back even stopped their quiet chanting, the stenographer stopped typing, and the prosecutor somehow managed to stop his nervous tic. They all just stared at my brother, who was visibly fuming, his nostrils flaring and his chest heaving with every breath he took. It was silent like that for what seemed like eternity. My brother and the judge were caught in a stare-down, neither one willing to give way. Then, just as suddenly as it stopped, it started again—except now the insanity multiplied.

  The women began their chanting again, but others started up with their own nuttiness. A man stood up on the bench and started screaming out a list of all the different ways we could die. A couple near the front started talking to the departed ghost of Jason, asking him questions about the afterlife. The others joined in, as if they were caught in some kind of group hallucination, staring at and conversing with some invisible entity that wasn’t even there. It was as if someone had filled the room with nitrous oxide gas, and everyone was off their rocker ten times more than before—everyone except for the mayor, stark still, staring at us with those murderous eyes.

  “We will talk more to Jason later. Let’s continue, shall we? Will the prosecution please call their next witness?” the judge screamed over all of the noise.

  Nick stared in disbelief and finally sank into his chair.

  They called up every single man and woman who was in the group that had pulled us over, and we listened to the same well-rehearsed crap story time and time again.

  “Very well. I think it’s Jason’s turn to take the stand,” the judge said.

  I looked at Nick, and he just shrugged in defeated disbelief. The courtroom was eerily quiet, as Jason supposedly told his story from the witness stand. People nodded their heads and listened intently. To what, I had absolutely no idea. After a moment, the judge dismissed his imaginary witness.

  Finally, it’s time to give our side of story, I thought, sighing with a little bit of relief.

  The judge said, “I think we’ve heard enough. The facts have been presented clearly and concisely, backed by evidence and the testimonies of these fine witnesses. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you will now deliberate as to the guilt or innocence of the accused.”

  The jury began whispering amongst themselves, laughing and smiling as if they were at some social engagement.

  The judge then spoke to where the ghost of Jason was allegedly sitting. “Thank you for your testimony. Do not worry, Jason, for justice will be served here today, and you shall rest in peace. I promise you that.” He paused, then nodded his head, as if responding to something Jason was telling him from beyond the grave.

  What? I can’t believe this crap! We’ve got no chance whatsoever!

  “What about our side?” Lucas shouted. “You’re supposed to hear both sides!”

  “I’ve heard enough, young man…and I’m glad to see you’ve finally learned your lesson and stopped all that disrespectful bleeding.”

  I glanced at the jurors, wanting to make a last-ditch effort at telling them my side of the story. “I’m not a murderer! It was self-defense! They’re all lying!”

  The prosecutor walked in front of the jurors. “Jason was an innocent man, trying to defend this town—a town he loved enough to die for. This dangerous gang pulled into our town and broke into the home of an innocent family, without cause.” He pivoted on his heels and twitched again. “This man,” he said, pointing to Lucas, “started shooting like a wild man, killing his own friend, Claire. Dean Walters, clearly a madman, kille
d his girlfriend, then murdered our Jason in cold blood. His brother, Nick Walters, was an accomplice to the entire thing and did nothing to stop it. He only egged his friends on in their murderous rampage. Cold-hearted murder deserves nothing less than the death penalty—for all of them.”

  The judge nodded in agreement. “Jury, what say you?”

  Needing no further time to discuss our fate, the foreman stood, crossed her arms, peered at us with hatred, and hissed the dreaded words: “Guilty as charged!” She sat down and tapped the juror to her left. Taking her cue, that juror did the same, adding a few curse words and insults for good measure. One by one, all twelve of them stood and accused us; in the end, the verdict was unanimous, and it was most definitely not in our favor.

  “Based on the unanimous decision of our esteemed jury, the evidence presented in this courtroom today, and the power invested in me, I thereby sentence you to death. Your execution shall take place at nine a.m. tomorrow, in a public forum, so that others may learn from your heinous mistakes,” the judge said.

  A man pointed to the center of the room. “Look! Jason is smiling,” he shouted. “Justice has been served today in the city of Kingsville!”

  The courtroom erupted in applause and cheers as the people rejoiced and hugged one another.

  Meanwhile, my heart dropped to rock bottom. Doom enveloped me like a crushing wave, and I could already feel myself drowning within it.

  “May God have mercy on your souls, if you have any souls to speak of,” the judge said. “Court is dismissed.” He then scooted out of the courtroom on his bare feet, and everyone hugged and cried, obviously happy with the verdict.

  “Nick…” I whispered.

  “Hang on, bro. We have a little time to figure out an escape plan.”

  “I always thought a zombie would take me out, not our own kind,” Lucas whispered.

  “I refuse to consider these lunatics my own kind,” Nick said.

  “Well, we can’t give up yet, fellas,” Lucas said.

  “You got that right,” I said with a nod, though I wasn’t sure anything was worth fighting for anymore.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning came quicker than I imagined. The air smelled of morning dew and something sweet that made my stomach churn. It was still early, and the sun was barely up when we were marched out, past a six-lane track, onto a high school athletic field. The perimeter was completely surrounded by a towering metal fence that reminded me of a prison yard. I could feel the tension and anticipation in the air, and my heart hammered harder with each step the closer we got to the middle of the field.

  Behind the fence, people stood or sat on benches like football fans, watching as we approached. I squinted to get a better look, but the sun blinded me. I could tell from their yelling and screaming that they weren’t right in the head. As we got closer, the blinding sun disappeared behind the clouds, and I finally managed to catch a glimpse of the drama unfolding around us.

  We were the only ones on the field, but the bleachers were filled with townspeople, yelling and screaming obscenities at us. Some of the onlookers were clawing at their faces, and others were rocking back and forth, screeching and howling for our blood. For one brief second, I was glad there was a fence.

  I had no idea how they planned to kill us. I figured they’d simply gun us down or maybe all start shooting at us from the stands. At least it will be quick that way, I reasoned. Then again, maybe they’ve got something far worse in mind. I cringed at the thought. I nudged Nick. “A firing squad? They’re really going to massacre us, aren’t they?”

  “I have no idea what these freaks are up to.”

  “You people are sick!” Lucas shouted, as if it would help.

  An intercom crackled to life and echoed over the field. I covered my ears to muffle the sound, until it was replaced with a loud voice. “Welcome, my people! I hope you’re all ready for a show. Today, these three degenerates will pay the ultimate price for the heartless butchering of our beloved hero, our Jason, defender of our great new civilization.”

  The crowd cheered in some sections and continued their bloodthirsty cries in others.

  I just stood my ground on shaky legs and swallowed back the rising bile.

  Lucas threw me a worried glance. “Crap!” he muttered.

  I gazed down at my shaking legs and noticed that the turf below me was covered in dried blood. My heart lurched. We weren’t going to be the first, and I was sure we wouldn’t be the last to face a horrible fate.

  “By the authority vested in me as the mayor of this great new city, let the execution begin!” the voice howled over the loudspeaker.

  Those words made me shudder all over. We’d definitely been taken there to die, and I hurriedly, instinctively scanned my surroundings, desperately looking for a way to escape. We could have made a run for it and tried to hop the towering fence covered with spiked barbs, if it weren’t for the guards standing there with their big guns locked, loaded, and at the ready. I had no doubt they’d shoot us before we’d ever get the chance to jump over. Running back the way we came was also not an option; the bullets would outrun us, whichever direction we tried to retreat.

  Suddenly, a familiar stench wafted into the air, immediately followed by loud, angry grunts coming from behind us. Operating on instinct, I grabbed Nick’s arm and spun around to find three figures stumbling toward us. They were distastefully familiar in the way that we’d all come to know and fear. The living dead were coming for us, three against three, one on one!

  Chapter 11

  “Nick!” I uttered in amazement. “They’re not gonna shoot us. This is some kind of zombie fight club.”

  “Now we know why they’ve been bringing zombies into the city,” Nick said sullenly. “They’re gladiators!”

  “Yeah, your theory on experimental testing of strangers was way off,” Lucas said.

  Nick nodded. “They aren’t trying to save the human race. This is just the next evolution of the Coliseum!”

  “And the missing people…” Lucas muttered in shock. “The outsiders… They must’ve been…”

  “Yeah,” Nick said through gritted teeth. “They were just the nightly entertainment.”

  “No!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “You can’t do this! This is so…inhumane! You’re all being affected by the contaminated drinking water! Don’t you see? Please don’t do this!”

  “What kind of sick game is this?” Lucas muttered. His hands clenched to fists as he yelled up, “We have no weapons! We don’t have a fighting chance against you or those things! Let us go!”

  “It’s not a game,” Nick spoke softly. “There will be no winner—only losers. We’re here for some sick, twisted fantasy execution, like the Christians being fed to the lions back in ancient Greece.”

  Lucas made a fist, as if mentally preparing himself for battle. “This is what happens when humans lose sight of their humanity. We need weapons!”

  “You really think they’re gonna hand us a chainsaw?” I asked.

  “No, but we need to find something…and quick.”

  “Like what, Lucas?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Anything that will pierce, hack, cut, or explode will do nicely,” Lucas said, ignoring my cynicism. His eyes remained glued on the zombies moving ever closer, ready to close in on us at any second.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing around,” Nick said, “and I doubt they’re gonna give us an arsenal to work with. That would only destroy their fun.”

  “The zombies don’t have brains,” I said. “Luckily, we do. We just have to outthink them.” Three zombies? That’s manageable. Yeah, we can handle that. We’ve fought off far more, I reasoned suddenly feeling naïvely hopeful. “I’ll take the hag in the green dress.”

  “I call dibs on Officer Deadhead,” Nick said, noticing the tattered uniform of the middle zombie. “Lucas, can you manage the chick in the purple?”

  “Love me a chick in a form-fitting jumpsuit,�
�� Lucas said.

  I tuned out to focus on my target. The rotting lady in the green halter dress sneered and growled as she moved toward me. The left side of her face, from cheek to throat, had been ripped away. I had nothing for a weapon but my wits—that and a wicked roundhouse kick. The decomposing woman half-staggered toward me. She seemed to be limping worse than the others, and I soon saw why: She was still wearing one high heel. The other shoe dragged along the ground behind her, still looped around her ankle. I wanted to get my hands on those stilettos, not because they matched my outfit, but because they’d make for a spiky weapon, in lieu of anything else. As she came closer, I took a running leap and dropkicked her in the center of her chest, sending her somersaulting backward, into the grass, with a stupefied look on what was left of her hideous face. I ripped the high heels from her ankles and proceeded to pound one right through her eye, and she stopped moving. “Lucas!” I said, throwing him the other heel. “Here!”

  He used the fashionable footwear to take down the lady in the purple jumpsuit in one quick blow. “Shoes are a girl’s best friend, ya know!” he yelled as she tumbled to the ground in a stinking, lifeless heap.

  Now came the part I hated. If I wanted to use the heel again, I knew I’d have to pull it out of the lady’s decaying face.

  I heard Nick cheer from behind me, “The police dude still has his revolver. The idiots didn’t disarm him!”

  I turned to see the policeman writhing on the ground, grasping his mutilated hands at Nick’s legs. Nick put both hands around the revolver, centered his aim, and squeezed off his shot. The policeman’s brains seemed to explode from the back of his head, painting the field in a fresh coat of gore. Nick spun around, keeping the gun at head level.

  There was no time for celebration, however, as another squad of undead goons had been released and were heading our way.