Rage: Z Is For Zombie Book 5

by catt dahman

It was something to think about. They tossed ideas back and forth and made plans, and George found that even the meekest of the ladies had some shocking ideas for traps in battle. It was clear that these people would fight for themselves and their homes. Groups formed fast to suggest ideas for an upcoming fight.

  “Beth, I want you to be calm and help everyone get ready; you can shoot well.” Beth looked at Juan in confusion, and Julia cocked her head, as Juan said, “I’m going to get Len, Kim, and Nick back. Zane can go part way to see if he can cause any mischief, but I think some stealth and grenades might cause enough trouble to allow me to get them out.”

  “No, Juan….”

  He kissed her but ignored her protests. “I’d like Matt to go since he was there. Just us. Gabe can go half way with Zane or to where he knows he has to be for his mischief. I want Pak, Carl, Teeg, and John: my team.”

  Julia took a deep breath and nodded.

  Beth refused to look at Juan for fear she would start crying. Two men she loved would be out there.

  “About time, let’s go raise some hell,” Carl said.

  Teeg smiled, “This will work; we’ll get them back.”

  All of them got into a huddle for planning while everyone else rushed about adjusting things and making a game plan. It was possible that the three captives would be crucified as well as Juan and Matt being killed.

  Zane was just a child who could do simple tricks that were pretty and amazing, but he was not battle-worthy, so the people of the compound would most assuredly face an entire army at their door within hours.

  In a few hours, the team was ready to move out in three vehicles. Beth didn’t miss that Julia gave Matt a kiss or that her own heart ached with Juan’s going out. Beth watched them get ready to take the men from isolation. She heard a voice from the visitor’s part of isolation.

  “They are about to come get you. I don’t know if they’ll tell you what your part in this is, but I will,” the speaker was Hannah. “Colonel Davis asked for you in particular to ‘do your service’ and ‘do wonders’. Matt and all of the rest think that was a hint of what Davis wants.”

  “And what is that, Little Miss Hannah?” Ponce asked, amusement in his voice. “It sounds as if either way, we may all be dead: both sides of us. What do the Colonel and you wish me to do? And why are you the one asking?”

  “I’m angry enough to ask. No one else is terrible enough to wish it on even those bad men, but I am, and I’ll even ask you. I want Uncle Len back and Kim and Nick. I can’t stand to see my mother so worried and sad.”

  “Oh.”

  “When you get back, I suggest you create a nice diversion so the rest can get our friends out and shut down that army. You might get out alive, too, if you take my advice.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “I suggest you bite. A lot. Got it?” Hannah asked.

  “Ahhh, I think I’m following.”

  “I hope you can do this, Mr. Ponce.”

  Hannah opened the door and smiled as they came to load the men into the vehicle to return them to the camp with the message: they wouldn’t hand over Zane but would fight. Most glanced at her with surprise, but she just smiled sweetly.

  She waved at the men. Ponce waved back.

  They watched them pull out of the gate.

  Andie, bandage on her throat, caught Beth’s sleeve. Her voice was rough. “I heard what Hannah said to Ponce. You heard her, too. She wants him to infect the people of that camp.”

  Beth nodded. “I think several were thinking the same. No one would ask him. You heard George. It makes us as bad as they are.”

  “We can’t be a part of that. You above all can’t be part of it.”

  “It was a message. The Colonel sent it, and Len and Kim gave Matt a sign. I can’t change that part. Matt just reported it. Hannah just reported it. Don’t beat on the messenger.”

  “I’m not, Beth. I am upset over Hannah’s asking them to do that.”

  “She has the right to give her opinion. George is better than I am. I just want those three back safely. To get them back, yes, I say ‘infect them all,’ anything to get our people back. Hannah is the only one of us who would say those words, but we were all thinking them.”

  “It’s sickening for Beth and Hannah to do that? I tried to tell you: I think she killed Carol, and it wasn’t a Z who got that poor woman. I think she didn’t mind a bit hacking her family to death.”

  “Adopted family that mistreated her,” Beth said. “You are a little dramatic here.”

  “This whole thing is dramatic.”

  “It’s okay, Andie.”

  “Whatever, I am warning you: that child, Hannah, is a little monster.”

  Beth smiled lightly. “Ahhh, but Andie, she’s my little monster.

  5

  Confrontations

  “I thought you died; the cabin burned,” Alan whispered to his brother as he handed them something to eat: water, bread, and beans on a plate, and for each, a package of old sweet rolls. “I mourned your death.”

  “Everyone came down with Red but me. What are you doing with these idiots? You are the President of the United States, Alan,” Nick said.

  Alan shrugged. “Now, I’m just a person, I guess. I knew the bombs were a stupid, last ditch effort, but everyone was in a panic. We went to the bunkers; we were told that everyone who was going to get Red already had it.”

  Alan shivered. This one guy, some mechanic from the army, had gotten into a fistfight with another man down in the bunker. They went at it hard and heavy, rolling around. No one was inclined to step in to break it up; the mechanic got the worst of the deal and chomped down on the other guy’s hand. When actions went to eye, gouging and biting, the fight was broken up, as it was no longer as interesting.

  “He bit? Let me guess….”

  “Yep, Dr. Diamond was already at work, and the bastard was a hybrid, one of the first test subjects, I guess.

  The other guy, we didn’t know he was infected: it was a bite; then, he showed the infection; then, the tell-tale reek came. The bandages were soaked through with yellowish pus, and bruises started showing up on the man’s arm, shoulder, and chest as he ran a high fever and vomited. Within a few hours, he was turned, but it was at a time when no one was watching or knew, and he infected several men, who turned on their families and friends. About two dozen people escaped with the President.

  “What did you do?” Nick asked.

  “I set off the bombs as I was told to in order to stop the spread, and then I locked all of them in the bunker where they belonged.

  At the second bunker, I did the same: took Diamond with me that time and told him to find his own people, which he did. I don’t remember all of the parts; I tried to find all of you; I was alone for a long time, and other times, I was in a group.

  It seemed every day we added a few to the group, and then we would lose more to attacks or from people going off alone than we added. Some people, we never saw again; soon, only a few of us were left, and we ran into the RA.”

  The Reconstruction Army used a Nazi format as they designed uniforms and trained, then gathered women to be breeders, and collected men to be their slave labor. They took their passion further by not allowing alcohol or drugs, yet had gambling nights: they made bets on which prisoner could run the fastest through a bonfire or who could survive the longest before changing; they executed scores of people whom they didn’t feel met their ideals.

  “I kept thinking there was a way to escape from them, but Colonel Davis let me down,” Alan said. “I felt lost when I saw Diamond was with him. Hell, both sides deserved each other.”

  “You should have left Diamond locked in the bunker, too,” Len said, “then, we’d have had fewer problems.”

  “I know that now. At the time, I thought he might have the cure.”

  “No, he’s the cause.”

  “It’s cowardly to save your own hide by even pretending to go along with these nuts of the RA,” Nick told him. �
��I’m disappointed in you, Alan.”

  “ I did the wrong things. I’ll figure out how to get us out of here,” he said.

  “Sorry if we don’t depend on that,” Len muttered, “I hope we have a Plan B.”

  Frank’s men came in.

  Len, Kim, and Nick were pushed out of the room. “Did you just cop a feel?” Len asked the one pushing at him with more force than what was needed.

  The man sneered, “I can’t wait to see you die, smart ass.”

  They went through the airport and outside. Colonel Davis stood, watching with a beaten look on his face.

  “The Colonel’s men came back and told us that your people don’t want to trade the kid for your lives,” Frank spat.

  “I could have told you that much.” Len shrugged, “true patriots don’t make deal with terrorists.” He also meant Davis should have fought back. Davis understood and gave him a little nod.

  “Get on with it. I want to be in their compound by morning,” Lucas demanded. The sun had set, but torches had the area well lit. Men came out to sit in chairs, and a make shift table was to one side where the men placed bets.

  Len, Nick, and Kim were the night’s entertainment.

  “Len, you’re the favorite for not screaming when you go on the cross. They think that one will scream,” Frank pointed to Nick. “But, on the other hand, they think he may last the longest since he’s thinner. I have money on you, Kim; don’t ruin my bet, ‘kay? Try to hang on a while.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Kim shrugged. He could see that above all else, they had not fed into Frank’s taunts, and that aggravated the man deeply. He led through intimidation.

  Kim swung on Frank, pivoting to get his weight behind the punch, but all three of the captives, despite fighting back, were beaten to the ground and tied by several men.

  Frank spat out a tooth in bloody saliva. “Bastard,” he said as he sneered at Kim.

  “Gotta admit that felt good,” Kim said.

  Kim wondered if he would scream when the nails went through his hands as he lay with arms stretched out on the beams of the cross. He knew his friends were wondering the same thing, dreading the pain. He thought about Beth and how he loved her, trying to imagine the baby.

  If this army attacked, would his friends stand a chance? Would Beth and his baby be killed or taken hostage and tortured? That was what haunted him, not his own death. He could only die, maybe slowly, but it was a way out. He didn’t want the baby to suffer with Beth at the hands of these men.

  Three men knelt.

  Kim fought to keep his hand closed, but it was pried open, and a spike was set into his palm. He didn’t scream, but he groaned, his breath churning out as he heard the thunder of blood and his own heart beat in his ears. He couldn’t scream because the pain took his breath away. Liquid agony exploded in his hand while lightning-like pain erupted into his shoulder as the nerves convulsed.

  Nick yelped, causing some men to cheer and others to groan as bets were won and lost. As his second hand was spiked, a man beside him kicked him in his ribs for costing him a bet.

  “Stop kicking him; we don’t want him dead, yet.”

  Nick knew his ribs were cracked, just more white-hot pain.

  “Mine is up.” The men with Nick cheered as they got him up first, tilting the cross up, raising it, and putting the end in a deep slot into the ground. Nick felt his vision waver as his ribs ground together and his hands felt the tug of the metal. He looked at the men who watched him on the cross, wondering faintly how they could enjoy the misery of others. His mind spun, and he passed out for a few seconds.

  As bad as his hands hurt, his chest gave him the most trouble. They added a small platform for all of them to stand on which gave him only the tiniest amount of support to keep his hand from tearing through the spikes.

  However, they had to raise themselves up on the tiny beam to get a full breath. Soon, it would be so that their legs and feet would cramp, keeping them from getting a breath. The torture was devised to assure that they didn’t die quickly but had to work at breathing while impaled in their hands, causing a long, painful death. He would suffocate over days or die of shock.

  Kim felt his eyes tear up as the second spike went through into his palm and down the carpel tunnel. He recalled his rage and fury, just to stand the pain, but he still cried out.

  “You wanna get that kid for me?” Frank asked Kim. “I’ll take the spikes out. You can end this.”

  “Nah, I’ll pass,” he said. His head was spinning with pain, and he intended to say that he accepted the deal, would, in fact, do anything to escape the agony, but the words didn’t come out. If Frank offered to kill him, though, he would try to take that deal if his words didn’t defy him.

  He wanted the pain to stop more than he ever wanted anything.

  Yelling and a clamor could be heard out of Kim’s range of vision; Nick could see what was going on, and he spared some of his breath to laugh aloud. He laughed and howled with joy, cheering, and acting insane, but his wide grin was unmistakable; something made Nick happy, but Kim was pretty sure it wasn’t a rescue party.

  It wasn’t the sounds of men entertaining and placing bets that echoed. The tough RA men ran around in a panic, calling out in fear, and only one action could cause that type of blind panic and disorder, despite having been given orders to maintain discipline.

  “Hot damn, I never thought I would be glad to know those bastards were around,” Len called out. He cheered for the zombies. “Come on in; dinner is served.”

  Moans of hunger were everywhere on the tarmac.

  “Bring ‘em on,” Len yelled.

  Frank leveled his gun at Len’s head and saw only a challenge in Len’s eyes, a mocking, happy challenge. Len didn’t care what Frank did to him. He wanted to get out alive, but seeing Frank realize his plans were falling apart was priceless and the real prize. Frank was no great leader. He knew it; they all knew it.

  John Ponce must have returned and started the plague in the fortress; the Reconstruction Army was defeated by too much ambition from inside and their own stupidity.

  “Don’t kill him yet; we want them crucified,” Lucas snapped. “They can rip the rest apart for all we care.” He turned and went over to Pascal. “Son, can you handle this?” He paused a second, having to aim and fire several times to take out a man who gushed blood from his mangled throat and ran past them. “Pascal?”

  Whoever planned this should be punished. But the planner, Pascal, glaring with his one good eye, was just a child: unaware of what his magic might do and unused to military strategy, agitated and inconsiderate; he was a child who was seeing plans ruined, and entertainment, albeit revenge, ended, and he was full of anger. Instead of taking control, he did as a child would do; he threw a temper tantrum.

  Thunder exploded overhead. Pascal kicked at a man on the ground, focusing on him so that the man’s brain boiled and blood rushed out his body.

  Lucas couldn’t get the boy focused. “Pascal?” It worried Lucas because he wasn’t sure the child could regain his focus or that he had the power to stop the zombies on the tarmac.

  “How did they get in?” Norman Pope demanded as he came running, eyes full of fear as he moved closer to Lucas and Frank. “What happened? Do something.”

  Colonel Davis grinned for the first time. “Secret weapon, you son of a bitch.” He swung up his sidearm and enjoyed the sight of the false prophet’s head explode from the back of his skull into a mess of brains and blood as a hole went into his forehead. Pope looked astonished at that very second. “It’s all over.” He knew his own men were suffering, but it was time for this reign of terror to end. Pope was the first who needed to die.

  Frank fired at the man, but even as the bullet hit the Colonel, Pascal turned on him, and the Colonel was thrown backwards as if he were slapped away. They needed the Colonel, but he was gut-shot; his father had explained. Pascal’s counter measure was too late, and he roared with anger. He might just burn Frank a
live for this. As Pascal turned to Frank, he saw the man was already moving again.

  Frank, advancing on the Colonel to get another shot and cursing under his breath that the child was out of control and ruined the killing shot, went after the Colonel, thinking was foolish ever to side with the traitor. Frank wanted to kill.

  The fence went down at the side as a Humvee plowed through, sending metal and dirt everywhere. Men of the RA couldn’t decide whether to fire on it or at the zombies that shambled in the torchlight. Davis’s men shot at the other men and the zombies, wondering what to do.

  Simultaneously, grenades went off, diverting attention, but Nick stared at Lucas and Pascal and ignored all the chaos around him. He was fascinated.

  A dot of light, like an errant firecracker fell by their feet and began to circle them, leaving a thin, scorched shape that turned orange, glowing, then white, and then blue. It was beautiful. Nick was mesmerized and thoroughly entertained.

  As a ring of fire surrounded their feet, an area roughly the size of a child’s plastic swimming pool, Nick began to sing, not even aware he was loud. “I fell into a burning ring of fire….” He sang to himself, watching, feeling the pain intensify as he raised himself for a breath. “Went down, down, down….”

  Kim and Len didn’t know much about what happened except that they heard moans coming out onto the tarmac and saw men running fearfully.

  Grenades exploded, and fires sprung alive, bathing them in light and heat, while shots rang out all over. They heard the engine but didn’t know the Humvee plowed through a fence. Kim could have sworn he heard Nick singing, but then it might be the pain making him hallucinate.

  Pascal roared and screeched with fury.

  “And it burns, burns, burns… the ring of fire….” Nick kept singing.

  Len had only one hand nailed. Since the men were distracted, they failed to do a body search. So Len contorted his body to get something that was attached to his leg. Len muttered, “Many a slip betwixt cup and lip….”

  Len felt satisfied at having fired at Frank with the small gun he took from his leg holster and at having watched the shots go into the man’s chest, which blossomed with blood. Frank randomly pulled the trigger of his own gun as he fell to the ground.