Zombie Attack! Army of the Dead (Book 3)

by Devan Sagliani

  Please just let us survive this, I thought. If not for me, then for Felicity's sake. It would kill her to learn I'd been tortured, and then executed in cold blood.

  My legs burned as we walked along; my extremities feeling every point of impact from the previous beating I'd taken. I felt the bitter tendrils of self-pity beginning to curl up inside of me, but fought them back with all my spirit, unwilling to believe this was the end.

  Don't let them infect you with their propaganda, I reminded myself. If they get inside your mind they've won, but you can fight to keep them out!

  At last we reached the viewing chamber and were roughly pushed inside. It was a dark room, not unlike a theater, with cushioned seats that faced a thick wall of bulletproof glass. On the other side was an empty white room with rounded corners and a bright but gentle overhead light.

  Zane marched us in and sat us front and center, giving us the best seats in the house. In the back row John sat next to Tank and several of their men I'd seen in Ojai, their faces now visible. John looked much more comfortable than he had when he'd woken me up not so long before. He was easing back into a false sense of security to avoid admitting just how precarious his position with Franco had obviously become. The Blackshirts stood at attention behind the seats, awaiting orders from their new general. When placed in such close proximity to John's men, they didn't look that much different at all.

  They're cut from the same cloth, I thought. Neither gives a damn about doing the right thing as long as they are on the winning side. That's all that matters to them.

  Franco walked up and tapped the glass. It made a thud as his knuckles rapped against it.

  “Don't worry,” he said. “It's strong enough for the purpose of today's demonstration. I assure you, no harm will come to us while we are in here.

  “Whatever you think you have to show us,” Moto said, “whatever you think is going to change our minds, you can just skip it. It ain't gonna work, Franco.”

  “Oh I think you're going to want to see this for sure,” Franco laughed. “It's not every day one gets to witness the next level in the evolution of warfare. Imagine for a moment the surprise that the Indians felt when the white man showed up with spears that screamed like thunder, sending hot lead missiles like deadly darts singing through the air to kill them.”

  Franco began to pace back and forth as he spoke, using his hands for emphasis.

  Man, I thought. This guy really likes the sound of his own voice.

  “Soon you will know just what they felt like,” Franco bellowed. “And just like those brave pioneers of old, who took their destinies into their own hands and forged empires out of sheer will, soon we will be unstoppable. See for yourself.”

  He turned back to the glass just as two Blackshirts walked in with one of John’s men. The man looked sick; he was stumbling and barely able to stand on his own. The Blackshirts roughly ripped the dark ninja warrior hood from the man’s head, revealing a beaten and bruised Haki.

  “Just what in the hell is he doing in there?” John brayed from behind us. “That's Haki! He's one of my main guys!”

  “Your trusted servant was in fact a double agent,” Franco informed him, without turning around. “He'd been helping out Moto and his band of rebels for some time before they helped him break Xander out of your custody in Ojai.”

  “Now just hold on a minute right there,” John protested, but Franco turned and shut him up with a glare.

  “It was so obvious a child could have seen it,” Franco said plainly. “The fact that you didn't makes me seriously question your judgment.”

  John seemed to shrivel back into his chair, doing his best to make himself as small as possible, while Tank groaned in disbelief and shook his head, as if to say I told you so.

  “What's wrong with him?” I asked, unable to help myself.

  The men who brought him in had quickly retreated, locking the doors in place behind them as they went. Haki was doubled over now, clutching his stomach and moaning in obvious pain. Franco made no effort to answer, but looked on with obvious glee. Haki began to sweat profusely, then threw up black bile all over the ground. He began to visibly shimmer, his body vibrating with violent seizures, his skin resembling a pot of boiling water. A loud cry rent the air as he threw his head back and wailed, his eyes now solid black, his clothing visibly ripping as his body expanded. The veins in his body pulsed and throbbed as his muscles expanded, turning him into a shredded bodybuilder right before our eyes. For a moment I was reminded of a similar monster I'd battled in Paradise City before being turned by a small child. I felt a sting at the memory, accompanied by the urge to search out with my fingers the ring of scars at my midsection and examine it again.

  I can't believe this is happening, I thought. It's too horrible for words. Poor Haki.

  Just when I thought it was all over, Haki let out a fresh roar, now sounding more like an animal, and began another growth spurt, increasing rapidly in size like a loaf of bread rising in a hot oven. His skin took on a sickly grayish-blue hue, tinged with hundreds of new rippling veins crisscrossing the stretched skin. When he was brought in, Haki barely reached five-foot-ten. By the time he was done expanding he stood well over seven and a half feet – a monstrous giant zombie with an insatiable appetite and terrifying raw power. He roared in anger and beat his fists against the glass, eager to turn us into his first meal. I flinched, turning to see that the rest of them had the exact same reaction as the glass spider cracked in several places, but held strong just as we'd been promised it would. The only one who didn't seem anxious was Franco.

  “He's just hungry is all,” Franco said, looking like a proud new papa. “All that growing takes a lot out of ya. We're gonna need to put something back in his system soon, otherwise he's liable to break free and start causing havoc on the base. We can't have that.”

  Franco turned to me and winked. My mouth fell open in shock at how cavalier he was acting. What he'd done was unspeakable beyond words, taking a man and transforming him against his will into an abomination, and yet he acted like he'd brought home a new puppy from the pet store. For the first time in my life, words failed me.

  Haki hit the glass again, and the smile vanished off Franco's evil face.

  “Sit down, Haki,” he commanded. Instantly Haki sat and began whining, like a frustrated pet not getting his way. “Good boy.”

  “I'll be damned,” John said, amazed. “He actually listened to you.”

  “So you see,” Franco laughed cruelly, “there is no longer anyone on earth that can stop me. I've got a big enough batch of this new strain to infect half the base. Anyone who resists will simply be turned into a permanent new member of my front line super soldiers, where instead of causing me problems, they'll become an instrument of my vision for the world.”

  “You're mad,” Moto said, visibly shaken by what he'd seen happen to his friend.

  “You might be right,” Franco said casually, sitting next to Moto and staring him in the eyes. “But it's too late to stop me now. If you refuse to help, eventually the people you love will come looking for you. We both know it. The first things they'll see are the dead bodies of you and your irksome little brother on display for the whole world. Then I'll torture them until they give me what I want. You know I will. I promise you, they will suffer like you can't even begin to imagine. I'll spare no humiliation from them, especially the women.”

  “If you even think of laying a hand on her,” Moto threatened, but Franco cut him short.

  “It's a lot to take in all at once, I know,” Franco said casually. “It really takes a bit for the true horror of it all to hit you. That's why I'm going to give you some more time to mull it over, to reflect on what you've seen, so you can make the correct decision this time. And for the record, when you do finally realize that you can't fight me anymore, when it sinks into those thick proud skulls of yours that I've beaten you, and you fall to your knees and beg me from the bottom of your bleeding hearts not to wipe everyo
ne you love off the face of the earth, or make them my wretched slaves for the remainder of their miserable days, please don't forget to grovel. It's such a treat for me.”

  “I'll die first,” Moto snapped.

  “The choice is yours,” Franco replied. “You have until sunup to change your mind. Otherwise, be prepared to meet your maker.”

  He gave Zane a nod and we were rustled back out of our seats. The mood was so heavy, Zane didn't even bother with any further insults. When we reached the end of the hall just before our cells, I looked up to see another familiar face.

  “Benji,” I cried out running to him. I threw my arms around him, but he pushed me back with a harsh shove.

  “Get off me, man,” Benji spat, his features twisted up in anger.

  “What's wrong with you?” It was all I could manage. “And why are you all dressed in black?”

  A disturbing feeling began to wash over me, as I looked him up and down. He was different, a more callous version of the kid I'd known before I'd left less than a year before. Benji looked at Franco and laughed.

  “Nothing's wrong with me,” Benji said. He looked so different than the last time I'd seen him. He was taller now, more muscular, and obviously arrogant. “I'm not the traitor who sold out his country to save his own backside. What's wrong with you?”

  He's buying into it, I thought in disbelief. Franco's got him brainwashed somehow.

  “Benji,” I pleaded. “They're lying to you, man. You've got to see that. Everything you've heard about me is a lie. Franco and his men are working with John and the bikers to take over the world. Remember what happened in New Lompoc? Tank is here with them. Listen to me.”

  The words were a panicked jumble in my head. There was so much I wanted to remind him about, so many obvious reasons he was wrong, but I couldn't get them all out clearly.

  “Listen to you,” Benji said in disgust. “Still completely out of touch with reality. Still unwilling to admit the truth, so you've got to make up crazy lies. You're delusional, you know that?”

  “Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?”

  “I'm still Benji,” he scoffed. “I just woke up is all. Franco recruited me into his operation, and when he did he told me the truth about you and your brother.”

  “You know the truth about us,” I blurted out. “You always have.”

  “You hero worship your older brother, but if you knew how he plotted with his Indian Princess to kill General Conrad, you'd think differently about him. He's nothing but a traitor. I guess, like Tank says, it runs in your blood.”

  “Tank tried to kill us,” I screamed in frustration. “You were there. I saved your life. Don't you remember that?”

  “I remember you tricking us in New Lompoc,” he said. “John took us in and treated us like family, but you were so obsessed with finding your brother and joining his side that you made up some wild story about Tank, just to get us to leave. You cost the Parker twins their lives, and nearly killed me as well. It's been you that's been the problem all along. I was just too young and dumb to see it before.”

  “This is insane,” I said, shaking my head. “You've completely lost your mind, bro.”

  “I don't have to listen to this garbage any more,” Benji shouted in my face. “I should have known you were trouble back at Vandenberg, when you stole several of my comics and then sold them to Weasel and his buddies.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?!”

  Indignation fired through me. Was I dreaming? I couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

  “Don't try to deny it,” Benji scoffed. “I know the truth. You've always cared only about yourself. You tried to pretend that you were helping the rest of us out, but really we were just there to be used by you to help get you back here to carry out your deranged terrorist plot. You manipulated me because I was just a kid, but those days are over. Tomorrow morning you're going to finally get what you deserve, and when you do, I'll be there front and center to watch it. I'm looking forward to it.”

  My mouth fell open again in shock, as once more I found myself overcome with emotion and unable to speak. My heart felt like it was breaking in my chest. Not only had Franco turned Benji against me, he'd done such a good job at it that the kid I used to think of like a younger brother was now excitedly awaiting my execution. It was more than I could bear.

  “Get him out of here,” Benji said. “I can't stand to look at him anymore.”

  Moto was quiet as they led us back to our cell and locked us in. Neither of us spoke. It wasn't long before another group of Blackshirts arrived to take Moto away again.

  “Where are you taking him?” I demanded. “Franco said we were to be left alone. You can't do this!”

  I stood up to fight, but Moto just shook his head.

  “Save your strength,” he said. “You're gonna need it. I'm sure I'll be back soon.”

  I watched as they bound his hands, and then pushed him along. When he was gone and I was alone, I slumped back to the cold floor and covered my face with my hands. I was overcome with the desire to cry, but I fought it off. Fear and frustration scrambled my thoughts.

  What was Benji talking about? I wondered. Why did he think I'd stolen from him? Didn't he remember the truth anymore? That I saved him from Weasel? Maybe Franco has invented some kind of mind control serum as well. That must be it!

  Still, it hurt to think of all the nasty comments Benji had hurled at me only moments before.

  What does it matter now? I thought. There's no way either of us is ever going to talk, no matter what they threaten us with. Franco will hang us in the morning when we don't. One way or another, I'll be dead soon.

  I felt a weariness come over me, pulling me down into a dark place in my thoughts. I closed my eyes, and tried to think of Felicity's face. I imagined her smile, and dreamed of her gentle touch. If I was going to die, I wanted to use my last moments of life to remember all that truly mattered to me. I drifted off dreaming I was back in bed with her in Xanadu, that I'd never gone with Moto, and that there was still time to fix everything that was wrong with the world.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I woke up in time to see Moto being forced back into the cage with me. I heard the door slam shut and the metal lock snap loudly into place. I looked to see who had brought him back, hoping it might be Benji, that I could get a moment alone with him to ask him why he was acting so strange, but the Blackshirt was already gone by the time I'd gotten to my feet. Moto moaned in pain as he crashed to the cell floor in a heap.

  I've got to help my brother right now, I thought. I can worry about getting to the bottom of things later.

  Moto came back to the cell worse for wear, much worse in fact. Both eyes were swollen, and his nose was visibly broken. Blood poured freely from a wound over his right eye. He looked weaker, worn down by the struggle, but still unbroken.

  “What did they do to you?” I asked in horror.

  “Trust me,” he wheezed, fighting to catch his breath. “You don't really wanna know.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Not a thing,” Moto smiled. From the look on his face I could see he was telling the truth.

  “Good,” I said. “The longer you hold out, the more likely they'll cancel our execution,” I gulped. “Or at least postpone it. I mean, it's not like they can kill you until you've told them what they need to know. Once you do that, I have a feeling Tank will just come in and start pulling me apart like an unattended dog with a sofa cushion.”

  “You remember when the neighbor’s dog did that?”

  “Yeah,” I laughed. “That's what made me think of it.”

  “What was the name of that dog?”

  “Sandy,” I offered. “She was a Golden Retriever.”

  “Right,” Moto laughed, trying to fight off the fear that had settled over both of us, as the hour of our hanging approached. “And what were the neighbor’s names again?”

  “I don't remember,”
I admitted. “One of them was named Fred, I think.”

  “Amazing isn't it? That you can remember the name of the dog, but not the person who owned it.”

  “How can I ever forget the name of that dog? We were out in the street playing Nerf football when the front door came flying open, and out comes Sandy with the sofa cushion still in her mouth.”

  “And the guy,” Moto began.

  “Fred,” I added.

  “Yeah, so then Fred starts chasing the dog all over the front lawn with a rolled up newspaper, yelling at the top of his lungs like some kind of maniac,” Moto laughed.

  “Bad Sandy! Down Sandy! Heel Sandy!” I got up and did an impersonation of our old neighbor, waving my arms around and making crazy faces. Moto howled with laughter. It felt good to be able to give him some kind of happiness, to take both our minds off of the situation for just a moment.

  “I never told you, but dad said that guy came over after I moved in with you,” Moto admitted.

  “Fred?”

  “If that was his name,” Moto continued. “I guess he asked dad a ton of questions about me, said he was worried I might try to barbeque his dog because that's what Asians did.”

  “Are you serious? He said that?”

  “Yeah,” Moto laughed. “Dad explained that Japanese people don't do that and that it was a myth anyway, but he told me to steer clear of the guy after that.”

  “I never knew that.” I was honestly surprised by how racist our kooky old neighbor secretly was. “I bet he was wishing you'd have turned poor old Sandy into a side of teriyaki ribs that day!”

  “I used to want to mess with him so bad,” Moto admitted. “I thought about leaving a bag of charcoal briquettes on his front porch and a bottle of BBQ sauce, but I never went through with it.”

  “Funny thing is, Fred would probably eat that dog himself now,” I pointed out. Moto nodded his head, lost in thought. We sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.