Zombie King

by J. C. Diem

  Mark was just as mystified. “There’s no way to know until after he makes his move,” he replied softly. “We need to find him and stop him before he causes havoc.”

  Thirty zombies didn’t sound like much of an army to me, but it was our job to catch the bad guys and it was doubtful that the bokor had raised the corpses with the intention of performing charity work.

  We patrolled the city with the hope that I’d be able to sense the zombies, but had no luck. By morning, the cops would be aware that something strange was going on. They’d find the empty crypts and the bloody symbols on the ground. Some of them would suspect the truth, but most would just assume that it was kids playing a prank. They’d put more men and women on patrol, which would make our job all the more difficult. We tended to work on the fringes rather than out in the open. The PIA wouldn’t be very clandestine if the general population knew that we existed.

  Reece angled the SUV back towards the compound. He drove along the mostly deserted highway so quickly that we were just a blur to the few other motorists. I was more than ready for bed by the time I slipped between the sheets again. Not even a skilled bokor could compel his undead henchmen to attack anyone during daylight hours. The city would be safe until sunset the next night.

  Mark had a surprise for me when I dragged myself out of bed late the next morning. Still half asleep, I was eating breakfast when he dropped something on the table in front of me. Picking up the small black wallet, I flipped it open to see myself staring back. The upper half of the wallet had a yellow circle with Federal Agent in bold yellow letters in the middle. Much smaller beneath it was the initials PIA. I had no idea when he’d taken the photo of me, but my face was somber and unsmiling, just like his ID. It stated that I was Agent Alexis Levine.

  I grinned and slipped the ID into my pocket. “Now I feel like I’m really part of the team,” I said.

  “You’ve been a part of the team since the day I picked you up in Texas,” he said as he made himself a fresh cup of coffee. “The ID just formalizes your status.”

  Our initial arrangement was only supposed to be temporary, but now I couldn’t go back to my old life. I mused over my status as an agent as I finished breakfast. I wasn’t old enough to drink yet, but I was a member of an elite team that hunted down monsters. I glossed over the fact that I was a monster myself. That was a detail I wasn’t yet comfortable with and might never be.

  “Alright, Agent Lexi Levine,” Flynn said from the boxing ring. “Let’s see what you’ve learned so far.” His expression was mischievous as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. I was glad to see him wearing boxing gloves this time. Being punched in the face with a gloved fist hurt far less than being hit with bare knuckles.

  Reece was working out with the weights and Kala stood beside the ring, ready to officiate. She threw me a pair of gloves that were far too large for my small hands. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said with a wink. That struck me as funny, since she was the only feline in our group.

  My grin faded when I stepped into the ring and Flynn immediately went on the attack. For a few moments, I ducked, weaved and blocked his punches as best I could. When he landed a punch on my chin, I saw stars and almost went down. The pain only lasted for a few moments, but it ignited a white hot anger that I’d never felt before. Blocking his next blow, I punched him in the ribs as hard as I could and heard a bone snap.

  He hunched over with a grunt of pain and Walker let out a whoop of laughter. “Way to go, Lexi!” she said with a grin.

  A broken bone took longer to heal than bruises and I had to wait for the color to return to Flynn’s face before we could resume our match.

  “That was pretty good,” he said. He was far more wary now that I’d unleashed my irritation on him. “Just try not to let your anger take over or you’ll lose your focus.”

  I knew what he meant and I tried to reign in the rage that was pounding inside my head. It was a mystery where it had come from. Then I made the mistake of glancing at Reece and the mystery was solved. He was glaring at my sparring partner as he pumped weights. I snuck a peek through the bond to feel him seething with ire. He didn’t like seeing me get hurt and he was doing his best to control himself.

  Clamping down on the bond again, I pushed aside the anger that didn’t even belong to me and focused on learning as much as I could during my session.

  Being a shifter, it took a lot of activity to exhaust me now. Even after hours of sparring, I was still bursting with energy. I took a shower while Mark cooked dinner. We were eating early so we could head back to the city to search for the bokor and his missing soldiers.

  Mark’s taste in food was varied and he served us a stir-fry that was as good as anything I’d eaten in a restaurant anywhere. Piling our dishes into the dishwasher, we retrieved our weapons and trooped out to the garage. The sun was still an hour from setting when we left the compound and Reece drove at a pace that was sedate for him.

  “Circle the city before you enter it,” Mark instructed. “Let’s see if we can pick up any trace of the bokor and his zombies.”

  It was going to be difficult to pick up their trail if they were in a truck as we suspected. Once we were close enough to them, my strange zombie radar would hopefully be able to pinpoint their location.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Twelve

  We cruised around the edges of New Orleans as the sun receded from the sky and darkness took over. I was on high alert for the telltale presence of zombies. Cars thronged the streets, slowing us down. We drove past all fifteen cemeteries, but I didn’t sense any more walking dead being summoned from their resting places.

  After a couple of hours of patrolling, we stopped for gas and took the opportunity to stretch our legs. A tickle at the back of my head made me turn to see who was watching. I sensed the unknown presence again. The link between us seemed to be strengthening, which was a frightening prospect since I didn’t even know what it was. Its thoughts were still largely muffled, but I sensed that its interest in me was increasing.

  Mark was standing next to Reece as he filled the tank. They were conversing quietly about our mission. Kala was pretending that a pair of college guys weren’t staring at her, but it was obvious that she was well aware of their eyes on her butt. Flynn was washing the windscreen that had become filthy from our trips to and from the compound.

  No one else was aware that we were being observed. I was beginning to wonder if it was all just in my head when I was distracted by a large truck that ambled past. My head whipped around to follow the vehicle as it rounded the corner. It was carrying a cargo of reanimated corpses in the back.

  “The bokor just drove past us with a truck full of zombies,” I called to the others and received a strange look from a woman who was filling her tank ahead of us.

  Reece hurriedly finished up while Mark paid for the gas. Another car drove up to box us in as we climbed into the SUV. We had to wait for the woman to return to her car and waited impatiently as she checked her reflection and touched up her lipstick. Reece put his hand on the horn and held it down until she glared at him in the rearview mirror and finally started her car. Upset at rudely being urged to move, she took her time to ease into the traffic.

  “The truck turned right at the corner,” I said. I was sitting on the edge of the seat, straining to pick up the trail as we followed in the truck’s wake.

  We sped down the street and were stopped at the next light. By the time it turned green, the last residue of zombie had faded from my senses. “I lost the trail,” I said in disappointment.

  “At least we know the bokor is in town and that he brought his minions with him,” Mark replied. “Keep driving around until Lexi senses them again,” he instructed.

  By the time I sensed the undead again, we were too late to stop the Zombie King from unleashing his plan. I felt the disturbing buzzing in my head, but this time the corpses weren’t longing for food. They’d already found it. “They’re just ahead,” I warned
and pointed to a bank standing on the corner.

  Driving past the building, we peered through the windows to see only darkness inside. We turned the corner and pulled to a stop in the mouth of an alley at the back of the bank. The back door had been pulled off its hinges and lay on the ground. Half a dozen zombies were on their hands and knees, hunkered over an unmoving body. I could only see part of the dead human, but it looked like he was wearing a uniform. He was most likely a security guard. A silent alarm had probably been tripped when the back door had been broken into. The guard had made the biggest mistake of his life when he’d come to investigate.

  “We need to take care of them before the police arrive,” Mark said. He made a quick call to the local Cleanup Crew and we climbed out of the SUV. The zombies sensed me and bared their bloody teeth. These walking dead were in about the same condition as the ones we’d roasted last night, but their meal seemed to be giving them strength. Hissing, they stood and began to shamble towards us.

  “They really don’t like you,” Kala murmured as they fixed their milky eyes on me.

  “The feeling is mutual,” I replied as Flynn opened the back door of the SUV and reached for a flamethrower. Reece grabbed one as well and the pair stepped into the alley to send a wall of fire at the approaching monstrosities.

  I shut down my tenuous link to the undead minions as they shrieked in agony. Flailing and burning, they fell down and became crispy corpses just as a dark gray van pulled up at the far end of the alley.

  “Do you sense any more zombies in the area?” Mark asked.

  I shook my head, relieved that the momentary pain in my mind was fading. “I think the bokor left these six behind to slow us down. The rest of them aren’t anywhere nearby.”

  “I’m going to take a look inside,” he said. “Keep watch and let me know if the police turn up.” He skirted around the still smoldering skeletons then turned and crooked his finger at me. “Bring a flamethrower, just in case.”

  Flynn handed me his weapon and I took it with a nod of thanks. I had no idea why Agent Steel wanted me to accompany him inside the bank, but I wasn’t about to question him. I was right on his heels as he stepped over the heavy metal door that bore smeared handprints. Forensic testing would determine that the black goo was rotting human flesh. I noticed a broken camera above where the door had been.

  My stride wasn’t as long as Mark’s and I had to jump over the door. The floor was filthy with what my nose was telling me was chunks of zombie flesh. The smell of decomposing meat was unmistakable. While the Zombie King’s dark magic could reanimate bodies, it apparently couldn’t stop the inevitable rot.

  Doors branched off to either side of the hallway that stretched out ahead of us. I spied another broken camera dangling from a couple of wires. Pieces of plastic and metal littered the floor.

  We found the vault halfway down on the right. Again, the heavy metal door had been torn off its hinges and was smeared with noisome splotches. “How strong are zombies?” I asked, awed that they could so easily break metal doors down.

  “Very,” Mark replied as he entered the room. I was impressed again by the construction of the mausoleums in the local cemeteries. The strongest ones could apparently withstand being battered by their undead occupants and suffer little to no damage.

  The vault itself was untouched, but dozens of deposit boxes had been ripped from the walls and ransacked. It didn’t look like the bokor had been after anything specific. He’d rifled through the boxes and had taken what he wanted, leaving less valuable items behind.

  A small, square metal table sat in the middle of the room. Two uncomfortable plastic chairs had been provided for customers to sit on. A white card emblazoned with a red skull and crossbones had been placed precisely in the center of the table. Mark picked it up and examined the other side. ‘Zombie King’ had been typed in a font that was supposed to mimic blood.

  “He left a calling card?” I said incredulously. If he wanted the cops to know who he was, why bother to break the cameras? Like so many other thieves, he was a coward at heart.

  Mark nodded and pocketed the card. “It appears that the bokor is seeking infamy as well as fortune.” Sirens sounded in the distance and his cell phone beeped in warning as one of his agents sent him a message. “That’s our cue to leave,” he said and hastened outside.

  The Cleanup Crew had piled all six of the crispy corpses as well as the dead security guard into the back of their van. They’d scrubbed the alley as clean as they could and were wiping the zombie residue from the discarded metal door when we hurried past them. One of the Crew was female, but she was almost as tall as her male partner. Her shoulders might actually be a fraction wider than his. Both wore dark blue overalls. They nodded in greeting and I nodded back.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Mark said to the pair.

  “It’s our job, Agent Steel,” the male crew member said amiably enough. He was in his early forties and had a deep, gravelly voice and a nose that was skewed to one side.

  “Someone has to clean up after your squad,” the female said in amusement. Her hair was light brown and it was just long enough to put up into a ponytail. They were chattier than the Crew from Denver, but we didn’t have time to talk. They were hurrying inside the bank to wipe away all traces of the undead robbers when we motored away.

  We circled the block a couple of times and the dark gray van was gone on our second circuit. The cops arrived on our third trip around to the back alley. A midnight blue sedan was parked around the back of the bank and two plainclothes police officers were approaching the doorway with their guns drawn. One was older, short and balding. The other was younger, handsome and blond. I wondered what they’d make of the robbery and if they’d ever learn the real truth of who and what had broken into the bank. If they did, their lives would never be the same again.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Thirteen

  After leaving the bank, we drove in random patterns around New Orleans, hoping to pick up the Zombie King’s trail. Frustrated and cranky, we eventually gave up and headed back to our base. The bokor had to be hiding somewhere outside of town. There were far too many places to search effectively with just our small team. We’d have to wait for him to strike again and hope that we’d have better luck catching him in the act next time.

  Determined to sleep in, I was woken far too early when a fist banged on the door. Kala’s grin widened when she saw my bloodshot eyes and annoyance at being woken so early. “Rise and shine,” she sang. “It’s time to train!”

  “I need breakfast first,” I grumbled and shut the door on her smirk. I took a quick shower and dressed in my usual white tank top and a ratty pair of sweatpants. Now that everyone knew about the scars on both of my shoulders, there was no point in trying to hide them.

  I discovered Reece was of the same opinion when I stomped down the spiral staircase to the kitchen. He was working out in the gym and wore only a pair of cutoff jeans. Even from all the way across the gigantic room, I could see the scar that I’d left on him. His eyes flicked up to meet mine a second before I turned away. Irreversibly marked both physically and mentally, neither of us could escape from this trap.

  Joining Kala and Mark at the table, I took my time eating my cereal. While I felt full of energy when I was on a mission, I needed more than four or five hours of sleep to recharge. None of the others were feeling the effects of driving around for half the night. Coffee helped to restore me a little more before I forced myself to join Kala in the boxing ring.

  Two inches taller than my opponent, I was less heavily muscled and far less skilled than her. Her solid frame should have made her slower than me, but her reflexes were uncannily quick and precise. Her stare was focused and downright frightening in its intensity. Now I knew what a mouse felt like when it was being stalked by a cat.

  Receiving a punch to my solar plexus, I went down to one knee, struggling to breathe. Kala laughed in glee and danced back a couple of steps. The whi
te hot rage flared within me and I went after her. Her amusement changed to alarm when she saw that I wasn’t kidding around. I swung a punch at her head and she ducked just in time. She had to dodge and weave to keep out of my reach as I went on the offensive rather than the defensive for a change.

  “Channel the anger, or you’ll do something you’ll regret,” Reece said, distracting me momentarily. He and Flynn were standing beside the ring, watching us spar.

  “She’s too slow to actually land a punch,” Kala scoffed and grinned at me cheekily. My rage flared again and I noted that my emotions were heightened by Reece’s anger. Most of the time he kept it banked, but every now and then it overflowed. Silently, he showed me how to use my rage to heighten my reflexes. Letting him guide me, I faked a punch to Kala’s ribs with my left fist. As she dropped her hands to deflect the blow, I lashed out with my right hand and my glove connected with her jaw.

  Dazed by the punch, she stumbled back a step. Her sign of weakness ignited my instinct to attack and I unleashed a bevy of punches at her. Gone was my ability to control myself and I swung wild blows that weren’t very well aimed. I landed a lucky punch and she went down to her knees. Hands caught me around my middle and I was yanked off my feet and pulled up against a rock hard chest.

  Thoughts of fighting were instantly replaced with thoughts of a carnal nature when Reece spoke into my ear. “You need to learn control,” he said as Flynn knelt beside Kala. “You’re not a child anymore.”

  His cold pronouncement was like a bucket of icy water to the face and my anger drained away. Blood was trickling from Kala’s split lip and guilt hit me. I struggled free and crouched beside her. Flynn’s glare was just short of hostile.

  “I’m sorry,” I said contritely. “Are you okay?”

  Shaking her head to clear it, she offered me a feeble grin and wiped the blood away with her sleeve. She left a smear of red on the white t-shirt. “I’m fine. That’ll teach me to underestimate you.”