Dying Days [Book 9]

by Armand Rosamilia

  Even though their numbers had dwindled, there were still too many people pressed together. Only a couple would be able to fight at a time and, unless it was now daytime outside, they’d be unable to see more than a few inches in front of them.

  Zombies didn’t conveniently carry flashlights and lanterns to light the battlefield.

  April looked up. The ceiling was only a couple of feet over her head. “Where are we?”

  Confused murmurs answered her.

  “I mean, is there a way onto the roof? Weren’t some of you up there already?” April had an idea. It might be a lousy one but it was better than groping in the dark and trying to fight an enemy she was sure could see her but she couldn’t see.

  “There’s a ladder to the roof on the other side of this floor. It won’t help us,” Bernie said. “I hear someone walking upstairs already. If we open the door, we’re dead.”

  April raised her hands and pushed at the ceiling. It was thin, light tiles. Maybe a faux ceiling with a space above it. “Dad, help me.”

  “Help you do what? They’re coming.”

  The noises below were getting louder. It sounded like the zombies were ripping the bar area apart in search of the living.

  “Boost me up. I need to see if there’s a way to the roof,” April said.

  “Nothing personal, sis, but I think it would be easier if I checked,” Carlie said.

  In the dark it was hard to know if she was smirking but April assumed she was. Anytime they could get digs in about one another they did. It was more habit than meanness now.

  “Fine. Go ahead. See if you can find a way out of this room,” April said. She knew Carlie would have a much easier time climbing in the rafters. She was always the tomboy who had climbed the trees and hopped fences when they were kids.

  Profit hissed for everyone to be quiet.

  At first April thought it was a general warning until she heard something scraping against the door. More than one something, in fact.

  She held her breath.

  The zombies had climbed the stairs and were at their door.

  “Lift me up,” Carlie whispered to April. “If you bang my head, I’ll kick you in your fat head.”

  April easily lifted her sister, who climbed up to stand on her shoulder. “I can stand up here. Lots of room.”

  “You’re not that light,” April said.

  There was another slam against the door.

  “How are they getting up the steps?” Mimzie asked.

  One second April felt the pressure of her sister on her shoulders and then she was gone.

  “There’s a beam I can stand on. I’m not sure where it goes. I need a light,” Carlie said from above. “Who has a lighter or match?”

  No one answered as more sounds from the other side of the door drowned out everything.

  April wanted to call out to her sister but didn’t want to let the zombies know they were definitely inside the small room.

  In the dark. With barely any weapons.

  She looked at the darkness above, praying her sister would find an exit they could use to escape. Maybe find out how to get on the roof. It would be a temporary solution but it was better than getting picked off, one by one, in the darkness, not knowing who the enemy was and who was still alive and on your side.

  She could hear Carlie moving around above, the creaking of a beam as Carlie moved slowly.

  The banging on the door intensified and the crack of wood rang out.

  April knew it wouldn’t be long before it was breached and the zombies would be inside, able to see in the darkness.

  She’d lost all sense of time. Was it still night out? Had the morning finally come to help them see, or would she never see another sunrise?

  All she could do now was wait, either for Carlie to rescue them by finding an exit or for them to fight their way out.

  April stepped in front of her parents and prayed Carlie could find something in time to help.

  Chapter Seven

  If she was still human she would’ve taken the time to weep at the senseless destruction all around her. The survivors were being cut down one by one by both marauders and the zombie horde, and she couldn’t move fast enough to save everyone.

  Darlene kept going, trying to save some people at the same time she destroyed others.

  As a kid she’d watched Superman movies with her father, who had loved comic book heroes as a kid himself. She went through a summer where she read and re-read Spiderman comic books, imagining herself a female version of Peter Parker.

  In the comic books, the hero got to take a breather between battles. One super villain would rise up in each twenty-two page issue and conveniently fall at the end. The hero would get a chance to smile and go about their mundane secret life until the next bad guy came to town.

  Right now she counted hundreds.

  Her son had amassed thousands of mindless zombies, all bent on destroying mankind. They’d been manipulated into marching on The Promised Land. Killing machines seeking out the living. They had no choice as far as Darlene was concerned.

  More problematic were the zombies she thought of as ambulance chasers.

  The smart ones who’d snuck into the pack or were watching from a distance, ready to pounce. They were under the impression her son was just another superior specimen and didn’t know they were there.

  He most definitely knew. He was using them to help fight this war. Darlene knew when it was over and he was satisfied he’d simply lift a finger and destroy them all.

  There could only be one. Darlene remembered watching The Highlander with her dad. He loved that cheesy movie. She’d bought him the DVD a few Christmases ago, right after her mother had died, and it had taken his mind off things for awhile. Of course, Darlene had to suffer through multiple screenings of it.

  Too bad grandpa is dead or I’d be hanging out with him. Maybe I’ll raise his body and he can lead my army with his grandson and son-in-law. A real family affair, her son said in her head.

  “I shot your grandfather in the face when this started… which is what I hope to do with you, you arrogant brat,” Darlene said. She put her hand on the Desert Eagle still at her side. She didn’t need it anymore with the nearly unlimited power she had at her command but it felt right to still carry it.

  Like the last tenuous thread connecting her to her former humanity.

  Darlene used a small portion of her power to block her son from reading her thoughts. She didn’t want to expend any more energy blocking herself from his view, since he could easily follow along as she killed zombies and the living.

  Getting him out of her head would help her to concentrate.

  She needed to find her friends and save them.

  The last hour she’d been trying to keep more zombies from heading east to attack but now she knew it was a wasted effort. There were even more than she’d initially counted.

  Her son was still bringing them in with his call, adding to the numbers faster than she could get rid of them.

  The largest concentration of the people she cared about was in The Promised Land, surrounded by hundreds of enemies.

  She didn’t want to waste more energy flying from place to place but walking or even running faster than normal was putting her at a disadvantage.

  Darlene knew she’d use up too much of her power, which is exactly what her son wanted.

  Meanwhile, he was hiding and observing the destruction he’d set into motion. Conserving his energy for the inevitable battle ahead.

  A battle Darlene would need all her strength to fight.

  Enough of this. I’m wasting time, she thought and began to run again, this time focused on heading east and crossing the river. She needed to clean up the streets of The Promised Land and offer an escape route for anyone still alive.

  What if they’re all dead? What if it was too late?

  Darlene took a bullet to the shoulder but simply willed her body to expel it, still hot, to the ground. The wound c
losed up and she spun to see who had been so bold and stupid to shoot her.

  It was a girl no older than twelve, holding a rifle with both hands. Darlene could feel the fear coming off of her.

  “Run. Leave before it’s too late,” Darlene said. She didn’t recognize the girl. She was probably from one of these other groups attacking.

  Did this girl even know what she was fighting for?

  The girl shot again and Darlene sidestepped the bullet.

  “Please go west. Get away as fast as you can,” Darlene said.

  The girl was reloading.

  “I don’t have time for this,” Darlene said and turned to run across the river.

  She sensed the gunshot behind her and dodged to her left and out of harm’s way.

  Darlene had to use energy to get across, sitting down at the end of a gap in the wall.

  A dozen zombies were coming out of the water and she took them down with her inhuman strength, none of them sensing she was anything other than one of their own.

  She knew if the zombies were the only danger left in the world she’d simply walk it and crush their skulls one at a time.

  Darlene was about to climb through the gap in the wall when she sensed something she didn’t like.

  She turned to see the girl with the now-useless rifle being mauled by a group of zombies, tearing her apart.

  Darlene shook her head and sent a blast of energy across the river, destroying the zombies and putting the girl out of her misery.

  All she had to do was run away. This wasn’t her fight. She didn’t understand what was going on. She was just a child.

  Very commendable. Maybe since you were such a horrible mother to me, God will let you redeem yourself by saving the poor children with dirty faces and loaded weapons.

  Darlene blocked him again from her head. She needed to be more vigilant in keeping him out. Not as though her plan to kill him was a big secret, but she didn’t want him to keep saying stupid shit to bother her.

  Once again, he was getting to her and she was wasting time.

  Darlene needed to block him, turn off her feelings and start killing again. It was the only way her friends would survive this giant fucking mess the world had become.

  More zombies were coming out of the river. They were being tossed against the sides by the current from upstream.

  He’s forcing them into the river and hoping they end up on the right side, Darene thought. There could be hundreds of bodies in the water. Most floating away and ending up downstream, where they’d eventually be able to get out and get to the other side.

  And march back to fight.

  Darlene had wanted to be as careful as possible to preserve The Promised Land and not rip it apart in her haste to save people. The Lich Lord had already done so much damage, opening the gaps to let this horde in. Destroying the bridges had helped short-term because the zombies couldn’t just cross over, but it also insured everyone living would be trapped on the peninsula.

  As a handful of zombies came into view and she could hear more of them in the water behind her, she decided she was wasting time.

  If she didn’t act fast too many people would die, making The Promised Land intact a mute point.

  Darlene went to work destroying everything in her path, moving another step closer to Main Street, all the while trying to conserve her energy.

  Chapter Eight

  His people were getting slaughtered and he didn’t care.

  Mister Borden watched from the comfort of the top of a building across the river, using his enhanced sight to see everything, as it happened, as if it were daylight.

  He wondered why he’d agreed to join this battle. When he stopped to think about it, none of it made sense. The fact he’d simply told his followers it was the right course and they’d be able to take over The Promised Land, when he knew the biggest army ever assembled was teetering on the edge of the battle, was insane, even for someone so superior.

  He felt manipulated. He had an idea who was behind it, too.

  Mister Borden had sensed a greater presence, just behind the curtain. This many zombies weren’t going to suddenly decide to hang out together and attack a fortified position and cross a river to do it.

  The worst part was there was a second powerful entity on the other side.

  Hours ago he’d felt like the superior being, using his intelligence and power to influence these weak humans. If he wanted them to kill one another they’d do it happily and in his name.

  He knew it wasn’t his name on the tip of their tongue.

  “It’s mine. The sun will be up soon. You might want to scurry back into your hole.”

  Mister Borden turned and stared at the boy.

  A mere child, although, when he looked at the eyes, he saw the wisdom. The intelligence and experience.

  The evil.

  “We have two options, Mister Borden. Either way it doesn’t matter to me, you see. In the grand scheme of things you with me or crushed under my little heel makes no difference. In anything. I’ll leave the choice to you.”

  Mister Borden wondered if he could close the gap between them before the child understood what was going on.

  “You could try but I wouldn’t advise it.”

  Mister Borden looked away. How was it possible the child could listen to his thoughts? No other changed zombie had been able to do it and Mister Borden couldn’t do it himself. It made no sense.

  The child chuckled. “I’m not like other boys.”

  Mister Borden could sense the menace behind the words. The innocent expression on the boy’s face wasn’t fooling him.

  “Would you rather I changed my appearance to someone older? Maybe a female so you’ll feel superior? I thought coming in the guise of a young boy would put you at ease. You did have children when you were a weak human, after all.” The child cocked his head and grinned. “You’re thinking of pushing little Billy on the swing right now. I can see it like I’m standing on the slide, about to jump off onto a group of girls in pigtails and rip them to pieces. I sometimes wish I’d been born before all of this. To be human for even a minute must be fun, even if it made you inferior to me in every way.”

  “It had its moments,” Borden admitted. He wanted to turn and run. Hide somewhere far away. Never see this monstrosity again and live forever in peace.

  “Peace always comes with a hefty price.” The boy paced back and forth, hands behind his back. “Back to our talk. Stop wasting time thinking about ways to attack me. None of them will even be close. I said you had two options.”

  “I thought you made it perfectly clear what the options were: either with you or against you. Life or death.”

  The boy chuckled, sounding like a little boy laughing. It was unsettling, even to Mister Borden.

  “What do you know or remember about life? I’m not here to debate you in a philosophical way. I’m here because I need to know if you’re going to kneel before me,” the boy said.

  “What do you mean?”

  The boy stopped pacing and moved his hand quickly in the air.

  Mister Borden fell to the ground, confused.

  He turned over and saw his legs had been cleanly sliced off his body at the kneecap.

  “Give me fealty. Kneel before your master. All of that stuff,” the boy said. “I made it an easier choice for you.”

  Mister Borden felt no pain. Just a growing sense of dread as he saw the raw power of this kid. He’d cut his fucking legs off without touching them. As if it was nothing.

  “In the grand scheme of things, it was nothing. A small taste of what I can do. Now… I’ll ask for the last time. Do you bend the knee to me?”

  Mister Borden nodded his head, still staring at his legs. He wanted to point out the obvious: it was hard to physically bend the knee when they’d been chopped off.

  The boy chuckled again. Mister Borden knew it was purposely in a childish, delightful way, which made it even more eerie and unsettling.

  Mis
ter Borden was lifted and his body placed on his legs again in the blink of an eye, now whole again.

  He took a hesitant step forward. His legs worked like nothing had happened.

  The child cleared his throat and stared.

  For a second, Mister Borden, so confused and happy to have his legs back with his body, forgot what he was supposed to do.

  The boy put out his hand again but higher.

  Mister Borden dropped to his knees and bowed his head.

  “Do you fully submit to me? Do you wish to do my bidding?”

  Mister Borden nodded. As if he had a choice.

  “There are no choices in life or un-life. Only the will of the strongest. The alpha predator. The one who holds the reins. I am this person and you have kneeled before me,” the boy said.

  “What do you wish me to do?”

  “This is much better than me cutting off your lower abdominal area next. Don’t you think?”

  Mister Borden nodded, keeping his head down.

  “I want you to face off against my mother,” the boy said.

  Mister Borden lifted his head and frowned.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know who she is or what she’s capable of.”

  Mister Borden had felt her presence, of course. “She is quite powerful.”

  The boy held up two fingers. “She’s the second-most powerful creature you will ever fight and lose to, unless you’d rather the most powerful ended you right now?”

  “You want me to lose to her?” Mister Borden was confused.

  “Of course not. Ideally, I’d love for you to somehow defeat her. Bring her to her knees. It will never happen, but I want you to give it your all. Even though giving your all will fall well short of what I need, it will be helpful long-term,” the boy said.

  “It’s suicide.”

  The boy shrugged. “I could end you now and be done with it.”

  “I’d rather take my chances with your mom.”

  “Use everything you have to fight her. Hold nothing back because she will kill you. Destroy every last cell in your body so nothing can reform. She’s pretty bad-ass, even though I want her dead,” the boy said.