Revenge & the Zombie Apocalypse (Zombie Apocalypse Trilogy Book 3)

by Chelsea Luna

  “Well, kiddos,” Tom said. “It’s time.”

  Dottie grabbed the hat filled with their numbers. She ruffled its contents like she was handling poker chips. Everyone climbed to their feet, unable to peel their eyes from the murderous couple.

  Tom retrieved a folded piece of paper. “Number six.”

  Six.

  Adam’s heart restarted. Not Rachel. He didn’t remember his own number—he glanced down—it wasn’t him, either. He was number one.

  Finn choked back a sob.

  Adam turned and followed the kid’s teary line of sight. The dark number six was scribbled across the back of Nicky’s hand.

  It was Nicky’s turn to die.

  Chapter Seventeen

  No fucking way.

  Nicky checked the number on his hand again. Six. Nope. He would not be a T-bone steak for a bunch of sick cannibals.

  Not happening.

  “Which one of you is number six?” Tom lifted the key from Dottie’s neck. In his other hand, he held Adam’s gun. Again.

  Goddamn déjà vu.

  “Who is number six?” Tom repeated.

  “Me, you prick,” Nicky said.

  Tom’s eyes tightened. “Well, thank you for your sacrifice.”

  “Yeah, suck my—”

  “Nicky,” Adam warned.

  Nicky rolled his neck over to Adam, used to his chastising, but instead, Adam’s eyes flickered back to the cannibal couple.

  Finn choked. “Don’t go!”

  “All right, Number Six,” Tom said. “Step forward. The clock is ticking.”

  “Please, don’t hurt him!” Finn wrapped his arms around Nicky’s waist.

  He couldn’t help but smile—he loved the kid. Nicky peeled Finn from his waist. “I’ll be all right, dude. Don’t worry.”

  “Come on, Six,” Tom urged. “Out of the cell.”

  “Please don’t do this,” Cage begged. “We can work something out.”

  Nicky patted Finn on the head and the boy hugged him again. Nicky’s hands went numb and his feet wouldn’t move, but he had no choice—he didn’t want Tom to harm the others.

  Nicky nodded at Dean and Cage. They were solid dudes. Dammit—he never got to shoot Dean’s AK-47!

  Rachel’s pretty face appeared in front of him. “Listen to Adam,” she whispered when she hugged him.

  Adam stuck out his hand. When they shook, Adam squeezed his hand twice. Nicky was even more confused—what in the hell was he trying to say?

  “Don’t slit his throat,” Adam said to Tom.

  “We’ve been over this,” Tom said. “I applaud your efforts, but it doesn’t matter what you say. His death is serving the greater good.”

  Adam raised both hands. “At least give him an honorable death.”

  Nicky stopped. “What?”

  “What exactly is an honorable death?” Tom asked.

  “Kill him with his own weapon, cleanly,” Adam said.

  “Dude.” Nicky made a face. “You’re not helping me here.”

  Tom shrugged. “Which one is your weapon, Number Six? A gun? Do you want a bullet to the head?”

  Nicky blinked. “What? No. I want a margarita on the beach.”

  “The axe,” Adam said quickly. “The fire axe.”

  “You’re telling him to chop off my head?” Nicky asked. “Dude! Are you freaking—”

  “It’s the more honorable way to die,” Adam said.

  A crease formed between Finn’s eyebrows. “What are you doing, Adam? Stop it!”

  Tom retrieved Nicky’s axe. “Fancy weapon. Let’s go, Number Six.”

  Nicky followed Tom only because he didn’t want to see his friends get shot in the face. No one moved as Tom placed Adam’s gun in the center of Nicky’s back. Technically, he couldn’t feel it though his clothes, but Nicky imagined the cold metal of the barrel against his skin. He was about to die.

  Die.

  Freaking ridiculous. It was like a badly written B horror flick—the kind that came on at two a.m. on Saturday night. He was being taken out by cannibals.

  Adam made eye contact with Nicky, but he had no idea what Adam was up to. Nicky had no doubt that Adam was up to something brilliant, but Nicky was too dumb to figure it out.

  Tom led him to the tree stump the campers used for chopping wood. It was a few feet from the fire pit. Tom jabbed the gun into Nicky’s shoulder blades. “On your knees.”

  Nicky reluctantly lowered to one knee as the cannibals gathered around him in a semicircle to pray. Tom shoved Nicky’s cheek against the rough stump.

  Adam’s eyes moved from Nicky to the side. Back and forth.

  “Let us be thankful for what has fallen at our feet,” Tom prayed. “Bless this man’s life. He is sacrificing for the greater good. We are grateful. Amen.” Tom repeated the same prayer he’d recited before he slit Lindsay’s throat.

  Nicky followed Adam’s eyes. What was he looking at?

  Adam extended his foot out in a kicking movement. Then it hit him—Nicky knew what Adam wanted—if he was going to go out, it might as well be with a fight. Full, Rachel-style, badass-ness, in-your-face brawl.

  Nicky nodded. He was game.

  “Amen,” Tom said.

  The chorus of amens flooded through the crowd and a frigid cold shivered up Nicky’s spine despite the heat from the fire. If you die, at least it will be trying to save them. This is your chance at redemption. To right how you wronged your poor grandmother.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Nicky saw Tom raise the axe. The camp went silent as the axe whistled through the air and down onto Nicky’s head.

  ~ ~ ~

  Rachel held her breath.

  My God, this couldn’t be happening. Not Nicky. Please, not Nicky. They had to do something.

  The axe’s blade glinted off the flames as it sailed down to Nicky’s neck.

  Finn screamed.

  Blood rushed into Rachel’s ears. All sound was muffled—like she was listening from underwater. A loud bang reverberated through the camp as the blade buried deep into the tree stump.

  Nicky.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was like rolling the ball in roulette—sometimes you hit; usually you didn’t.

  Nicky rolled slightly to his left before the axe made contact. If he rolled right, he’d be headless—just like that dude from Sleepy Hollow. The axe blade stuck in the wood and, for a long moment, no one moved. A complete and utter silence descended over the camp.

  Time to act.

  Nicky kicked his leg out and snapped Tom’s tibia with a chilling explosion of breaking bone. Tom dropped to the grass.

  Nicky shot to his feet and yanked the axe from the tree stump. As he turned with the blade held high, the ground tilted. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop the dizziness, but it only made it worse. Drops of blood flew from his head like a wet dog shaking away the moisture. A sharp sting hit the side of his head—the blade must’ve taken a chunk out of his ear.

  It didn’t matter. This asshole had to pay for what he did to Lindsay.

  The rest of the cannibals stood eerily still as Nicky held the bloodstained axe blade to Tom’s neck.

  “Please,” Dottie whimpered.

  “Please?” Nicky balked. “Are you kidding me? You ate my girlfriend!”

  Dean and Adam grabbed the cell’s wooden bars and pulled. The bars gave an inch or so. Rachel slipped her foot through and squeezed her skinny butt through the bars.

  “Nicky,” Cage yelled. “Get his gun!”

  “The gun,” Nicky repeated. Duh. “You killed my girlfriend and sliced my ear, you asshole. Set the gun on the grass.” Nicky picked it up. “Now, tell your ugly wife to hand over the key, or they will be adding your headless body to the fire pit for a chow down.”

  “Yeah!” Finn screamed. “Get him, Nicky!”

  Rachel squeezed the rest of the way through the bars. She stumbled free and went straight for the weapons pile.

  “Dottie,” Tom said. “Give them the
key. Hurry.”

  The crowd shifted once Rachel reached the weapons. A few of the campers backpedaled away from the fire pit.

  “No one move!” Nicky pressed the blade against Tom’s throat. He should just decapitate the asshole. “Tell your people to settle down, Tom, or so help me God, I’ll chop off your head.”

  “No one move!” Sweat rolled down Tom’s forehead.

  Rachel stood in front of Dottie. “Hand over the keys and then take a seat on the grass next to the cell with your hands on top of your head.”

  “Good idea.” Nicky made eye contact with the crowd. “Weapons on the ground. Take three steps back. Everyone on their butts, hands on your heads. Nicky is in charge now.”

  "Do it," Tom screamed. "Listen to him."

  The cannibals sat on the grass and placed their hands on top of their heads. Rachel snatched the key from Dottie’s neck and then shoved the woman to the ground.

  “All right,” Nicky said. “Now you’re listening! Rach, unlock that cell. We’re getting the hell out of here. I’m sick of seeing these Hannibal Lecters.”

  Rachel unlocked the cell door and Adam kissed her on the cheek on his way out. “Good job.”

  "What's the call, Adam?" Nicky wanted out of here.

  “Lock up the adults.”

  Rachel smashed the end of her bat into Dottie’s back. "Get in the cell. Now."

  Dottie crawled toward the cell.

  “Please don’t hurt my wife.”

  “Wait,” Rachel said to Dottie. “Let my friends out of the cage first.”

  Dean and Monica were still in the cell. Dean slowly backed out. He was staring at Monica.

  “Dean? What are you doing?” Adam asked.

  Dean glanced over his shoulder. His lip trembled.

  And then Nicky saw—Monica shuffled out of the dark corner of the cell. She limped from her injured ankle, but her movement was jerky and unnatural. Even in the shadows, Nicky knew. “Crap! I freakin’ forgot!”

  “Forgot?” Adam said. “Forgot what?”

  Monica lumbered out of the cage and into the light from the fire pit. Her eyes were ice-blue floating in seas of blood red. She tilted her head at a severe angle and sneered, displaying perfectly bright white teeth.

  “When in the hell did that happen?” Cage yelled.

  “A zombie scratched her in the tree.” Nicky kept the blade on Tom’s neck.

  “And you didn’t feel the need to tell us?” Rachel asked.

  “Don’t yell at me!” Nicky said. “I almost got decapitated, remember? I was going to let Monica tell you guys, and then all this cannibal crap happened! Sorry!”

  Zombie Monica swung her head to the side. Cold blue eyes locked onto Dottie sprawled on the ground.

  “Move!” Adam yelled.

  “Dottie!” Tom screamed.

  Monica lunged on top of Dottie. She threw her head back like a lion devouring a gazelle and bit into Dottie’s chest. Blood and tendons stretched from Monica’s lips.

  Nicky had to admit—seeing Dottie being eaten alive by Monica gave him a small sense of satisfaction. The cannibal being cannibalized.

  You gotta love irony.

  “Finn, come over here,” Rachel said. “Now.”

  "We want one of those RVs." Adam pointed at the campers. "Which one has the most gas?"

  Tom swallowed. “She’s eating Dottie.”

  “My friend asked you a question.” Nicky pressed the blade. A stream of bright red blood trickled down Tom’s neck and stained his sweaty T-shirt. “It’s not fun seeing your loved one get eaten, is it?”

  Monica straddled Dottie as she consumed her.

  Dean stood watch.

  "Take my RV." Tom reached into his pocket. “Take whatever you want. Just kill that thing.”

  Nicky clicked his tongue. "I wouldn’t move if I were you, buddy." He retrieved the bulky set of keys from Tom’s pocket.

  "Finn, take these and see how much gas is in the tank. Which one, dude?"

  Tom pointed.

  Finn caught the keys and ran to an enormous rusted green RV.

  "Everyone but the children, into the cell." Adam pointed his gun at the campers. "I will not look over my shoulder for you sick sons of bitches."

  "Now!" Nicky screamed.

  One by one, the adults marched into the cell until there was hardly space to move inside. Rachel slammed the door shut and locked it. She handed a gun to Dean.

  Monica stood from Dottie. Her mouth, neck and shirt were covered in Dottie’s blood.

  “Dean?” Adam asked.

  Monica shuffled toward Rachel.

  Rachel stepped back. She glanced at Adam.

  “Dean?”

  Dean raised his gun.

  The movement made Monica turn to him. She stumbled on her bad foot toward Dean.

  “Dean!” Adam yelled.

  Dean fired the gun.

  Nicky dropped his eyes. In his peripheral vision, he saw Monica’s zombie body fall at Dean’s feet. He kept the blade at Tom’s throat, but his eyes wandered to the bone pit. Lindsay. He kicked Tom in the gut.

  Tom clutched his stomach and groaned. “You jack—”

  “Shut it,” Nicky yelled.

  The RV rumbled to life and Finn’s head popped out of the window. "Three-fourths full."

  "Good enough for me,” Nicky said. “On your feet, old man."

  "You can't leave us in that cell. We'll starve to death."

  "Maybe you can eat each other if you get hungry," Nicky suggested.

  Tom stood on wobbly legs. Nicky couldn’t help himself—he whipped around and struck Tom with the end of the axe. The bastard deserved it.

  Blood spurted from Tom’s nose.

  “That’s for killing my girl,” Nicky said. “I should kill you, but I’m better than you.”

  Anger flashed in Tom’s eyes.

  “Move it, Tubby.” Nicky jabbed the axe into Tom’s back.

  Tom stepped toward the cell, but then he stopped and whirled around at Nicky.

  He lunged.

  Nicky feinted to the side and knocked Tom in the back of the head with the axe handle. Tom stumbled—his body tumbling over his legs. He tripped, head over heels, and fell. His temple cracked against the bloodstained tree stump and his body rolled limply to the grass.

  Shit.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It was an accident, Nicky,” Adam said.

  Rachel placed her fingers on Tom’s neck and shook her head.

  “We need to get out of here,” Dean said. “Now.”

  "What about the kids?" Nicky asked.

  Eight children of various ages, none of them older than fourteen, stood terrified around the campsite.

  “Can I have the key to the cell?” Adam asked Rachel.

  Adam took the key down to the beach and launched it into the lake. "Tie up all of the children except for the youngest one. Don't tie them too tightly, but enough so they can't easily escape. Once we drive away, the youngest child can work on the knots. It should take some time to untie everyone and for someone to jump into the water and find the key.”

  "Classic," Nicky said.

  “What if we don’t find the key?” one of the cannibals in the cell asked.

  “Then you’ll have to figure a way out,” Nicky said. It was time to blow this Popsicle stand. He walked toward the RV, but stopped at the bone pit. The yellowed bones were all mixed together, but there was a whiter set on top.

  Lindsay.

  Nicky’s stomach lurched. He couldn’t hold it back—he vomited yellow bile all over the grass—his stomach was empty of food.

  Rachel rested her hand on his shoulder.

  Nicky wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Should we take her remains with us?”

  Rachel crouched next to the pile. “I wouldn’t know which...”

  “That’s not Lindsay.” Cage loomed over them. “Not anymore. She’s gone.”

  Nicky sighed. “You’re right… This is so messed up.
”

  Finn put the RV in reverse and pulled the camper beside them.

  Rachel, Adam, Cage and Nicky tied up the children, which felt wrong on so many levels, but Nicky didn’t want any of these crazy assholes following them. The youngest, a brunette girl of about four, sat on the ground with her feet tucked under her.

  Adam kneeled to her eye level. "When you can't see our RV anymore, that's when you can untie your friends, okay?"

  The little girl nodded and he patted her head.

  "May God have mercy on your souls." Adam grabbed Rachel and they climbed into the RV.

  Cage replaced Finn behind the wheel and shifted into drive before they could shut the door.

  Nicky collapsed in the chair. "We’re not stopping again until we reach Vegas."

  ~ ~ ~

  Adam sat on the side bench in the living room section of the RV. "How's your ear?"

  “I don’t know.” Nicky gently touched his bloody ear. "Is most of it still there?"

  Finn made a face. "You're missing the tip and part of the edge."

  “It’s like a battle scar.”

  “It is,” Finn agreed.

  Rachel sat on the floor in front of Adam’s legs. He breathed a little easier now that they were miles from the cannibals. No one had mentioned what happened to Lindsay or Monica yet. It felt like if they did, it would finally be real and that was too terrible to contemplate.

  Adam kissed the top of Rachel’s head, thankful to have her.

  "Follow signs to 15 South," Nicky said. “That will get us back on track.”

  The RV was ideal for the six of them. The camper had a bedroom in the back, a small kitchenette with a fold-away table, a bathroom and two captain seats up front and a side bench. Up top, sleeping lofts lined both sides of the camper. They could drive straight through to Las Vegas in the RV without stopping to sleep.

  Cage merged onto Highway 15 South. The RV was silent since their narrow escape and, despite what Adam had said, he still occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure there wasn't an army of cannibal campers following them.

  Rachel had fallen asleep on his lap as they drove through the dark expanse of America. Finn slept in the bunk. Dean went back to the bedroom and closed the door and Nicky blankly stared out the window. Adam wasn’t sure how well he was doing after witnessing Lindsay’s butchering. Nicky acted nonchalant, but Adam knew he was traumatized and hurting on the inside.