Shadow Of Doubt: Z Is For Zombie Book 3

by catt dahman

  He opened the first door and shot a hole in the heads of his brother-in-law, sister-in-law, nieces, and nephews. Nick felt shock and dismay that it was as real as Alan promised. In a way, it seemed as if they weren’t the people he knew before, but it was sad, no matter how he tried to look at it.

  He shot Sheila with far less regret than he wished he felt, but she was just the epitome of all that was going wrong. She was blonde and voluptuous, a beauty, but she was covered in bodily fluids, her hair was matted to her skull, and her mouth was no longer sexy, just drooling loosely.

  When Nick put down his parents, he cried like a baby, knowing that just their bodies were left, not them. He believed in God and Heaven pretty much, but with tears streaming down his face, it was all he could do to keep the gun up and fire it. With the shots still echoing, he stared at their bloodied, broken-open heads, rested a while, and then took a few chugs of good bourbon before he could finish the job.

  Nothing prepared him for Nick’s having to shoot both his beloved parents in their heads as if they were animals. If not for taking an idiotically dangerous chance with them and putting pillowcases over both their heads, he couldn’t have done it; Nick could not have looked at their faces or backs of their familiar heads and killed them.

  After Nick, finished his wife off, he lay on a bed with his pistol to his temple as he debated the reasons for living and couldn’t find one. Finally, he slept a full day and wondered what to do next and when he should blow his brains out.

  The bombs came right after that and still debating when he should end it all, he moved to another cabin close by and empty of people. He stayed there until he decided that because of odd, frightening dreams, he should move south and find more people.

  “Glad you didn’t do it, but what changed your mind about doing it? Taking life as a choice instead of killing yourself?” Lance asked.

  “Lance,” Walt warned.

  “It’s a good question,” Nick said with a wave-off to Lance and Walt. “This sounds nuts, but I just kept thinking it would hurt to shoot myself. I guess it wouldn’t, but still,” he said and shrugged, “weird, huh?”

  “No more weird than anything else,” Walt said. “We were telling Charles about how Gabe and Zane have an interesting story.”He stopped to tell them what he had told the rest, catching them up, leaving out the more gruesome of the details for the time being.

  “I told them about the dreams we all had, Nick,” Tory said, “and I told him how we met Jilly Montaine and how her group went south after she was told about the wise woman and their having the same dreams.”

  “Why would everyone have the dreams and get advice to go south?” Nick asked.

  “I guess not everyone did that. If this is all real, then some are headed to join up with the RA and follow the one-eyed man. Well, he’s just a kid now. I think if he wins and becomes a man, then the world we have now with zombies will be a walk in the park,” Walt said.

  “He is my brother,” Zane spoke for the first time.

  For a long second, no one spoke.

  “Half-brother, partner.” Walt ruffled the child’s hair. He faced the rest, “I don’t know about you all, but I’ll let you read the diary, and Zane can tell his story, only if he wants, but I think it’s all pretty clear that all the good people are gathering around Zane.”

  “I’m the good guy?” Nick asked.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m the cheating, nutty President’s brother, I shot and killed my family, and never have I thought of myself as a good guy.”

  “He didn’t want to send the bombs, Nick. He argued, but they would have removed him, maybe killed him, did it all to stop the infection, they said, and he kind of thought, but….” Zane thought hard.

  “Zane has talents,” was all Walt said with pride, watching the child. Gabe never took his eyes off of the boy.

  “He had to send the bombs, but he knew he would have to; they wanted it all along.There was some man, I don’t know his name, but I keep thinking of a game card: a king of diamonds,” said Zane. He drew the shape of a diamond in the air with his finger.

  “They called the Red virus Diamond Flux, too, for a man they thought discovered or designed it,” Tory told him.

  “The bombs didn’t just get us; only a few were left to kill the monsters; they sent most to another place…” Zane looked at Nick. “It’s a place far away, Germany? Did we bomb them? I know where that is; Fred taught me about history, and I know where France is on the map,” he began crying out, standing up with his body as tight as a wire.

  “It’s okay, Zane,” Walt said as tried to settle him down.

  “We sent the bombs, and we killed the people.” Zane sobbed.

  “Alan told me they planned to hit Germany and were pushing him to be ready. No one, I mean, no one knew that.” Nick stared at Zane with an open jaw, wondering.

  “I told you Zane is special.”

  “Zane, you said something about a brother?” Tory asked.

  Zane did something only babies did: he put his thumb in his mouth and sat back on the sofa next to Gabe.

  Walt answered, “Zane’s momma was named Leandra. She was…ummm…without consent impregnated by a rather bad man who is the leader of the RA. If you read, his name was Lucas, and after the ummm…bad event, he vanished from the commune since the normally peace-lovin’ hippies were about to lynch him.”

  “As they should have,” said Tory as she glared.

  “According to what Leandra added to the diary, she was one-day pregnant by her husband, Danny, Zane’s daddy.”

  “Is that possible?” Charles asked.

  “It happened, it seems,” Walt said. “This Lucas, they say he was just evil, but who knows how bad he is? He came to get the other kid when he and Zane were born, but Leandra and Danny didn’t…ummm…care; they had Zane,” Walt tried to explain without upsetting Zane anymore.

  “And?”

  “And I got bigger, and then one day, we had to go to the caves, and people got sick. Mostly, they all died.

  Then bombs came.We traveled a lot, and there were good people, and some that we didn’t like…and then,” said Zane hiding his face, crying.

  Tory pushed her cousin out of the way and cuddled the little boy to her shoulder. “Then, they hurt your family in one town. I know. Walt told us.”

  “And here we all are,” Nick said.

  “What do you think the plan is?”

  “Walt spread his arms wide, like a Baptist minister getting ready for a sermon, “Isn’t it clear by now? They are with the crazy freak, building the RA, and we are supposed to take Zane and go south.”

  “For what?”

  “I think that’s clear, too. If they are bad guys and we are the good guys, what do you think we’re all headed that way? A party? A dance?” Walt was on a roll now.

  “It sounds like a war between survivors; that’s pretty sad that we have to fight after all this death,” Nick grumbled.

  “You don’t have to,” Tory said, “I think we have choices. But if those kinds of people burn people alive and things like that, I’d like to get a shot at ‘em.”

  “That’s how we feel,” Walt said.

  “This is insane,” Nick said, “but I’m in.” And while he knew it wasn’t a proverbial pact with the devil, he figured they would be seeing some real evil before long.

  5

  Len

  For a minute after he was finished dry heaving, Len looked at Rae and managed to tell Big Bill and Rev what they had seen. “Just when you think you’ve seen the very worst…that was really horrible.”

  “Feel like going on?” Rev asked.

  Rae nodded, her face pale. Len agreed to keep going, too.

  Around the back, they were relieved to see that instead of a zombie, they saw a normal man, sitting on the small deck in front of his double wide. He held up his rifle, trained on them.

  Len motioned to the rest to lower their guns. The man’s eyes were very sane, and he had a
beer beside him but didn’t look drunk. “What can I do you for?”

  “Just looking for survivors and supplies, killing zeds when we needed to,” Len said and introduced them.

  “I took most of them out; that’s why they haven’t been coming at you from every corner. A few still come around at times. Just been hanging out here and waiting to see what happens.”The man’s name was John; he was not bad looking and was dressed in boots and cargo pants.

  Len asked him why he had not gone to the compound where he would have been protected, but John said a few people he met went there and did not return; that topic then opened up the conversation for Len to tell him about how they had first found the compound.

  The compound was mostly empty, but some people there were pretty crazy and made anyone they found run through what they called a ‘gauntlet’; the compound was simply a basement full of zeds and old stored junk.

  Unfortunately, a team went in and was caught: the team was made to run through the gauntlet, made up of mostly traps and the zombies that had killed three of the people and wounded two others.

  “I hope you didn’t slap them on the hands and turn them loose to catch other people to play games with,” John commented.

  Len chuckled dryly. “I think my team executed them with extreme prejudice. We don’t have jails and paroles these days.” This was the pivotal point to see if John agreed with their style or was softer than they were.

  “Good deal.” John lowered his rifle. He offered them beer, which they accepted. They sat down, still wary and watchful, but needing to relax.

  “Appreciate this. Tastes good even though it isn’t cold,” Len said. He told John what they had seen. After everything so far, the beer was not just good- tasting but quenched his thirst and helped him relax a little.

  “We’ve been getting supplies and taking out some walkers.”

  “I cleaned a few out myself but not all as you can see.”

  As they told John about what they had done with the compound, he expressed interest in not only joining them, but in helping with security, offering to tag along as they gathered more supplies and taking out the remaining zeds to show them he was good with his gun and reliable.

  Before he left, he went inside for a few minutes, leaving them to wonder until he came back. He didn’t explain but joined them, showing them the places he had not gone into or looted.

  The first place was searched, and more supplies were added to their growing cache; they told John what items they wanted first and then what was second choice.

  In the seconds they searched, they heard moaning voices from all over. John, unused to their routine, went ahead into the living and kitchen area before Len could warn him to wait.

  A female zombie, her arms chewed on, reached for John, slapping his rifle down and pulling him close to bite him. Eyes huge, he stumbled as he realized his mistake too late.

  Behind him, Big Bill and Rev had their own to put down. Len kicked the woman’s knees as she strong-armed John backwards. John’s gun fell, but he lunged backwards, keeping on his feet as the woman fell over the other way. Len put a bullet into her jaw to destroy the brain stem and picked up the rifle to hand it back to John. This still ranked low on Len’s danger scale. Len looked back at the woman and saw that she had been shot several times in the stomach and chest.

  A male was crawling along in the kitchen; his blood had dried in trails and patches on the ceramic tile; his hand was still wrapped around a Glock that he slapped at the floor. Both of the crawling man’s legs were removed and thrown to the side where they were eaten to the bone. Len shot him and retrieved the Glock.

  After checking it, he handed it to John to put into one of his many pockets. “It’s a good sidearm.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Clear,” Len called.

  “Clear here,” Rev said, “looks like this one came in later and was attacked and infected. I would say he’s no more than twenty-four hours gone. He put down two before one got him.”

  “I heard shots yesterday, late; was that you guys?”

  “Not us,” Len told John, “and I don’t think they did very well.” He then told the others about finding the man in the kitchen and finding the Glock.

  “Hello?”

  They all stared at each other when they heard the voice. No more moaning, but the US Militia team didn’t let their guard down. They called out that they wanted to check the rest of the place. The den, bedrooms, and baths were clear, so that left only a final closed door at the end of the hallway, the master bedroom.

  “You wanna open the door?” Len asked. “It’s clear, now.”

  The door opened a crack, and a pistol peaked out. Len kicked the door open the rest of the way, making the gun and the man holding it tumble backwards. “Get that out of my face, asshole,” Len grumbled; his temper blazed.

  A woman sat on the bed with a man who lay beside her. A body was half in and half-out of the window, unmoving, and the man who had poked the gun out was sprawled on the ground. He and the woman giggled.

  “What the hell are you pointing a gun at me for?” Len raged. Their nerves were on edge after having killed the other zeds and after having a surprise of a gun pointed at him so unprofessionally.

  Rae picked up the gun, checked it, and put it in her pocket. “It’s empty anyway,” she said, “he pointed an empty gun. Bad tactic.”

  “Are you a terrorist?” the woman asked, wide-eyed.

  A flash of pain hit Rae’s eyes, but then she snarled, “No, are you?”

  “I’m an American.”

  “So is Rae,” Rev said, “how stupid can you be to poke an empty gun at us and then insult her?”

  The woman just made a face and looked confused.

  “Did we just hit the room of the stupid people?” Rev asked. “Can you all please just speak with some intelligent remarks?”

  “What happened here?” Len asked them.

  The man shrugged. “We were looking for supplies, and they jumped us; we lost Mike and Barnie, and we all ran in here.”

  “That’s not explaining much,” John said.

  “We needed stuff...food…and they, like attacked us. We kind of knew them before, yanno…kind of, but they yanno killed the other guys, and we had to run in here and haven’t left yet.”

  Rae looked at them as if they were speaking another language.

  Len thought that didn’t help a bit in the explanation. “And the guy in the window who is hanging half inside? What happened to him?”

  The man on the floor sat up. He wore jeans, old boots, and a wife-beater undershirt, but he was too skinny to do much for the shirt.

  “He started changing, and I shot him in the head. Then, I was going to push him outside ‘cause we don’t want no dead body in here, yanno’ cause it would start, like, stinking. Then, we heard you all come in with your guns blazin’.” He seemed mostly unconcerned with the events unfolding.

  With a puzzled, crooked smile, the woman on the bed introduced them.

  She wore tiny, faded blue jean shorts with tattered fringe, the sides cut to her hips, and a washed-out, blue blouse cut so low her nipples almost showed. She flipped back her shoulder-length, bleached, straw-like-blonde hair, and wiggled a little.

  It was obvious that in some circles, she had been told she was cute. She wasn’t. Her eyes were caked with mascara and eye shadow and were cold and spiderish. “And so here we are; we couldn’t leave because Ted is sick.”

  Rev stepped forward to look, having to lean across Ashley, who didn’t get up. She smelled of stale sweat and a strong, cheap perfume that made him feel nauseous.

  Ted was not awake, just lying very pale and still, hardly breathing, with greasy sweat covering his face. His arm showed above the covers, and right below the elbow was a dirty bandage, caked with blood and nasty, thick, greenish pus. The first aid looked weak as Ted needed a clean bandage, but then the whole room looked dirtied by the group. The particular stench was unmistakable. “He’s in
fected.”

  “What do ya mean?” asked the man, BJ.

  “He’s infected with the virus; he was bitten; he’s going to turn into one of the zeds,” Len said. How could they have just shot one who turned and not understood that bites caused it? Had they missed all of the news reports and all of the past few months living with the walking dead?

  “Maybe he is just infected and needs some pills or a shot of something.”

  “He’s going to turn.”

  “Oh.” Ashley looked down at the sick man beside her with some interest.She picked at the fringe on her shorts and looked more interested in that than the sick man. “Are you here to save us?”

  “Don’t know about saving, we are looking around for survivors who need some help,” Len told them.

  “We’ll go,” she said, “we’ll go wherever you live.”

  Len tried not to grimace at her words, but no way was he taking them back to their camp if he could think of a way to dissuade them.

  John looked at the dead man in the window and listened. He was curious to see what his new friends would do and how this would be handled.

  When Len saved him from the snapping jaws in the kitchen at the risk of his own life, John knew this was a good group, but now he wanted to be sure. He didn’t like these crazy people so far, and something was nagging at him.

  “Do you party?” BJ asked.

  “Huh?”

  “He means dope,” Rev explained, “I don’t.”

  “No,” Len said, “is that why you came here?” He was guessing.

  “Yes,” the man said.

  “No,” the woman said.

  Len rolled his eyes. They seemed more stupid by the second, and stupid, in this world, often ended up dead or getting other people killed.

  “I can’t wait to get to your camp,” Ashley said.

  Rae was checking the rest of the suite.

  Provocatively Ashley rubbed at her legs, making sure they all noticed how bare they were. “I’m starving. Do you have any food?”

  “I think Ted isn’t breathin,’” Big Bill said in a whisper, “you better get up, girl, before he gets you.”