Rise of the Undead (Book 5): Apocalypse Z

by Higgins, Baileigh

  “Forget about that now. You need to get your head in the game, as well,” Richard admonished.

  “Okay. I’ll focus,” she agreed.

  They fell silent, their ears pricked for the crackle of the radio. Nothing happened, and the moon rose against the darkening sky as the sun winked out. Stars appeared above their heads, a sparkling tapestry, and still, nothing happened.

  Finally, Saul’s voice came on. “Richard, are you there? Over?”

  “I’m here. Over,” Richard replied.

  “Jackson radioed in with confirmation. King’s forces have entered Frederick, but they’re not advancing. Over.”

  “What are they waiting for? Over?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, but a dawn attack seems likely,” Saul replied. “You might as well settle in. Over.”

  “Thanks for the head’s up. Over.” Richard dropped the radio. “Seems we’re here for the long haul. Get some sleep, Misty.”

  “What about you?” she asked, reaching for her pack.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll wake you if I get tired.”

  “Alright,” she said with a yawn, crawling into her bedroll.

  Richard turned his attention to the streets below, studying the layout of their booby-trap. The idea was a good one if it worked. All afternoon, Saul and the rest of the civilians had moved cars and dumpsters into place, blocking off all side roads and avenues. They tried not to make it seem too obvious, but more like natural car crashes and debris. In the dark of night, it might just pass close inspection.

  Jackson was the furthest out, and his main job was to spot the enemy first and report on their movements. Richard and Misty were one of two teams of snipers set on opposite sides of the funnel. Their task was to pick off any stragglers that survived the blast.

  The road leading up to the main gate had been cleared. On either side, claymores waited for the unsuspecting victims that dared enter the trap. At the far end was a tripwire. When triggered, all hell would break loose.

  The gates were defended by a squad of soldiers, bolstered by the presence of Nick and Saul. At the same time, Corporal Parker commanded the remaining forces. They stood watch at the other gates in case King decided to split up his forces. Richard didn’t think it likely, though. He didn’t possess the manpower to take on multiple points of entry.

  “Now, it’s just a matter of time,” Richard muttered.

  The long hours passed as night slipped into day, and the moon hovered on the far side before Saul spoke again. “Richard? King’s men are on the move. They’re coming our way. Over.”

  “How does it look? Over,” Richard asked.

  “It looks like our plan is working,” Saul answered. “They’re headed for the funnel. Over.”

  “Good. We’ll be ready. Over,” Richard said, reaching over to shake Misty awake.

  “Huh? What’s up?” she asked with a huge yawn.

  “Wake up, girl. They’re coming,” Richard said.

  “For real? That’s awesome,” Misty cried, scrambling out of her bedroll. Within seconds, she was by his side, her rifle loaded and primed. She tested the scope before asking, “Didn’t you sleep at all?”

  “Don’t need it,” Richard said. “All I need is a couple of good shots.”

  “You and me both,” she agreed. “Time for some payback.”

  Chapter 22 - Saul

  Saul crouched behind the concrete barrier and stared at the open road with grainy vision. Twin rows of claymores lined the path, and the tripwire stretched out in front of him, invisible in the darkness.

  He’d waited throughout the long hours of the night, and his body was feeling the lack of sleep. He stifled a yawn and rubbed his stinging eyelids with one hand. Next to him, Nick lay huddled within his coat, soft snores floating from his open mouth. At least, he could sleep. Saul could not. His mind wouldn’t allow him. Not when King was so close. If only he would attack and put me out of my misery. Whatever happens, one of us will be dead by the end of this day.

  “Sergeant Dhlamini, this is Jackson. King is on the move. I repeat, he’s on the move. Over.”

  Saul jerked upright, instantly alert. “Jackson, this is Saul. I read you. Over.”

  “They’re rolling out now. I count eighteen vehicles, most of them military and heavily armed. Over,” Jackson added.

  “How many men? Over?” Saul asked.

  “Around fifty, give or take a few. Over,” Jackson said.

  “Is he going the right way? Is he following the path? Over.”

  “It looks like it. Over,” Jackson replied.

  “Thank God,” Saul muttered with immense relief.

  Nick jerked awake and stared at Saul with puffy eyes. “What’s happening?”

  “King is on the move,” Saul replied. “He’s coming this way.”

  “Shit,” Nick cried, scrambling upright. “We’d better tell everyone.”

  Saul raised the radio to his lips and spread the news. A silent ripple ran throughout the waiting forces as everyone readied for battle. A hush fell across the clearing, and the sky gradually turned from deep charcoal to light gray. King had waited for the moment when the earth hovered on the brink of change to launch his attack. Now, the time had come.

  The radio crackled again. It was Richard. “Misty just spotted King’s troops headed our way. They’ve committed to the path. The attack is on. Over.”

  “Roger that. Over,” Saul replied.

  He clutched his rifle with shaking hands, his mind a tumbling mixture of wild emotions. Now that the moment had arrived, he found himself unable to think straight. But Richard’s words came back to him, and he took a moment to calm down.

  A new thought occurred to him, and he glanced at Nick. “He’s got eighteen vehicles. Will they all fit into the trap? Did we set enough claymores?”

  “I don’t know,” Nick said, “but that’s what the snipers are for. Them, and us. We’re the mop-up crew.”

  Saul bit on his lower lip. Nick was right. That’s what they and the fifteen other men were there for, huddled behind camouflaged concrete barriers. Once the final blast died away, it was their job to take care of any survivors.

  It was a good plan, but it had its flaws. If the trap failed, Saul, Nick, and the others would be under fire from heavily armed military vehicles. Outmanned and outgunned. The gate and its defenders were too far away to lend them any assistance. Nor could they risk leaving the base undefended.

  “Try to relax, Saul. This will work,” Nick said. “I know it will.”

  “I hope so, Nick, because if it doesn’t…”

  “Don’t think like that,” Nick said. “Stay positive.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Suddenly, the distant roar of numerous engines reached their ears. The sound grew louder and louder as King’s convoy rumbled around the office block occupied by Richard and Misty. The ground shook beneath their feet, and their very bones vibrated from the approach.

  The first truck came into view, and Saul’s mouth grew dry as he waited. He could do nothing but wait until the first vehicle triggered the tripwire. One by one, the convoy drove into the trap until the line extended as far as he could see. King had not held anything back. He was there to conquer.

  When the lead truck drew level with Saul, he dropped his head into his lap and covered his ears. For a single, breathless moment, nothing happened until…

  Boom!

  The first claymore exploded outward with nerve-shattering force. Like dominoes, the rest followed, and the convoy disappeared beneath a wave of fiery flames and super-heated air. Shrapnel peppered the vehicles, and glass windows imploded with the force of the blast.

  Saul remained in his position until the echoes of the last claymore faded away. Finally, he raised his head to get a look, both hands gripping the rifle on his lap. As the smoke and dust began to clear, he could make out the finer details. It was a scene of utter carnage.

  The convoy was obliterated. King’s men had been caught like
rats in a trap. Torn metal and chunks of smoldering debris littered the ground. Screams rang from inside the mangled trucks, as men sought to escape. The gunners on top of the roofs were reduced to piles of burnt flesh and bone.

  Not all were dead, however, and the remainder of King’s men began to emerge from the wreckage. They crawled out of open windows and blasted doors like maggots from a corpse. They hacked and coughed, rubbing shaking hands across their burning eyes.

  Easy targets.

  “Now,” Nick bellowed, rising from his crouched position. He aimed at the nearest figure and pulled the trigger.

  Saul followed suit, and his target jerked like a marionette on a string as bullets punched into his chest. The rest of the team also opened fire, and the survivors scrambled for cover they couldn’t find. Death rained down upon them, ripping through their flesh and bones with nuggets of steel.

  After several minutes, Saul stopped firing. There was nothing left to shoot. He lowered his gun and waited until the noise died down. A thick silence fell upon the clearing, and he emerged from the safety of his hiding place.

  Pieces of glass and concrete crunched beneath his boots as he walked toward the convoy. He nudged the first body he reached with a steel-capped toe. The man didn’t move, a gaping hole in his head the cause of death. Another man hung like a doll half-in and half-out of his truck, both legs blown to ribbons.

  With a dismissive shake of his head, Saul moved on. He continued further down the line, searching for the man he hated more than life itself. King.

  Around him, Nick and the rest picked off the rest of the survivors. Those unlucky enough to be alive despite gruesome injuries. The smell of roasted flesh, blood, and feces hung thick in the air—the aftermath of battle.

  At last, Saul found what he was looking for, and he stopped to study the thing that King had been reduced to. The former lieutenant dragged himself along the ground with both arms, seeking a refuge he’d never find. He left a trail of slime and entrails behind him, the pitiful remnants of his lower body dragging in the dirt.

  Saul’s lips peeled back from his teeth, and his voice rang loud. “King!”

  King stopped, his head jerking toward Saul. His eyes were wild, and the skin of his cheeks burnt, the flesh peeling off in ribbons. “It…it’s you. I always knew it would be you.”

  “This is the end of the road for you, King,” Saul said, raising his gun. He pulled the trigger, and King’s head exploded in a cloud of pink mist. His brains splattered onto the tar, and his body jerked and spasmed.

  Saul sucked in a lungful of air, a sense of completion flooding through his mind. “It’s done.”

  Nick approached from the side and clapped him on the shoulder. “You did it, Saul. You got him.”

  “I did. What about the rest?” Saul asked.

  “We killed them all except the last truck in the line. It managed to get away,” Nick said.

  “Shit, that means we’ve got to hurry. If they get to Tara first, she’s a dead woman,” Saul said, panic hitting him like a sledgehammer.

  “Not to worry,” Nick said. “We’ve got two Humvees waiting for them at the end of the block, and Jackson is on the job. They won’t get far.”

  Saul slumped with relief. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Nick said, extending his hand. “Just say we can be friends again.”

  Saul grinned and pulled Nick in for a bear hug. “Friends.”

  Chapter 23 - Bannock

  Bannock dropped the radio from hands gone numb with fright. All through the night, he’d been holed up inside King’s office listening for the outcome of the attack on Fort Detrick. The office was a safe zone, off-limits to the remaining ex-cons that guarded the facility. In there, they left him alone. Not for long.

  The moment they heard King was dead and the attack had failed, it would turn into a free-for-all. They’d kill him just for the fun of it. Tara too. Not that he cared one whit about her. If it wasn’t for his own imminent danger, he’d delight in watching her slow demise.

  Bannock swallowed hard on the knot in his throat. He had to leave before the prisoners caught on. He had to escape. But where to? He had nowhere to go and no one to turn to in the wasteland that was his country. Spring was on its way, and with it would come a resurgence of the zombies. Nowhere was safe, and a man alone wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. Tara. She presented a possible way out. Or rather, a possible route back into Fort Detrick. In an instant, Dr. Lee morphed from the enemy into a potential savior. She wasn’t that bad, after all. He could work with her as long as he was safely tucked away within the walls of the fort.

  Without wasting another second, Bannock grabbed the gun King kept in the top drawer of his desk. It was a Glock 17 and fully loaded. Even better, he knew how to use the thing. Sort of. After tucking it into his belt, he cracked open the office door and peered into the hallway. It was empty so early in the morning. Most of the cons were still in their beds at the crack of dawn.

  Still, he needed to hurry. It was only a matter of time before they heard the news on the radio. He walked toward the lab, doing his best to look officious. Twice, he passed guards at the checkpoints, and he took care to nod at each of them with calm confidence. It turned out to be unnecessary. As usual, they ignored him.

  He reached the lab without incident, and he unlocked the door to find Tara pacing the room like a caged tiger. She whirled on him with a ferocious look that couldn’t hide the fear that lurked underneath. “Dr. Bannock. Did you come to gloat? Are my friends dead?”

  “On the contrary, Dr. Lee. Your friends are not only alive but victorious,” Bannock replied.

  Tara paused, and her jaw almost hit the floor. “What?” Before Bannock could answer, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Are you fucking with me?”

  “No, Dr. Lee. I am not,” Bannock replied, surprised at her use of foul language. My, my, the stress of captivity is not doing her any favors.

  “Then what are you doing here? Have you come to kill me before my friends get here?” Tara asked, folding her arms.

  “Again, it’s a no. I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to rescue you,” Bannock said.

  “Rescue me?” Tara cried before laughing long and hard. “You’ve got to be kidding. Now, I know you’re screwing with me.”

  Bannock frowned. “In all the years you’ve known me, have I ever been the joking type?”

  Tara peered at him, suspicion lingering in her features. “Not really, which is why I can’t deduce your angle. Why on earth would you rescue me?”

  “It’s simple, Dr. Lee. Lieutenant King is dead, and so are most of his men. The attack failed.”

  “How do you know that?” Tara asked.

  “I listened to it over the radio,” Bannock said. “Which is why we have to hurry. Once the other ex-convicts learn the truth, we’re as good as dead. They’ll kill us for the fun of it, but not before they have their way first.”

  “Why would they kill you? Aren’t you one of them?”

  Bannock shook his head. “No, I’m not. The only thing that protects me from their wrath is King’s authority, and that’s gone now.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re in the same boat as I am. At least, you will be once the cons hear the jolly news,” Tara said with barely concealed glee. “Then, they’ll kill your sorry ass, but not before they make you suffer first.”

  “Correct,” Bannock answered with gritted teeth.

  Tara clapped her hands, a broad smile lighting up her face. “Oh, this is a dream come true.”

  “I don’t see how when the same will happen to you,” Bannock said, crossing his arms.

  “Yes, but at least your screams will ease my passing,” Tara said with a wide grin.

  “Can we save the gloating for later, Dr. Lee?” Bannock said as his sense of urgency rose with each second that passed.

  “Why?” Tara asked. “I’m having such fun at the moment
.”

  “We’re wasting valuable time.”

  “Dr. Bannock. I’m not an idiot. You think that by rescuing me, you can buy your way back into Fort Detrick,” Tara said, cocking her head.

  Bannock sighed. “You are right, of course. There’s no point in pretending otherwise.”

  “And what makes you think I’ll agree to that?” Tara asked.

  “Because you have no choice. I am your only ticket out of this place. As long as the cons believe King is still alive, I hold some sway. Enough to get us out of here in one piece.”

  “I could simply wait for my friends to arrive,” Tara pointed out. “I’m sure they’re already on their way.”

  “Perhaps, but who knows when they’ll get here?” Bannock countered. “What if the cons find out about the failed attack before that?”

  “That’s a valid point,” Tara conceded.

  “Do you agree then? Will you let me take us out of here in return for sanctuary at Fort Detrick?”

  Tara pursed her lips. “You can do that? You can get us out of here?”

  Bannock nodded. “I can.”

  “Swear it. Swear on your life that you can do it,” Tara insisted.

  Bannock placed one hand over his heart. “I swear.”

  “Alright. I guess I have no choice but to trust you,” Tara said. “Let me grab my stuff, and we can go.”

  “Hurry,” Bannock said. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  “Agreed. I’ve been stuck in this hellhole long enough,” Tara replied, bitterness tinging her voice. “No thanks to you, asshole.”

  Bannock winced. “I’m sorry about that. It was an error in judgment, and it won’t happen again.”

  Tara flashed him an icy look. “It had better not, or you’ll wish the cons got you instead.”

  “Noted. As long as you remember your promise to grant me safety, I’ll remain loyal to you and yours,” Bannock said.

  “It’s a deal,” Tara said, rushing around the lab. She shrugged on her coat and tucked a number of disks and hard drives into her pockets. “One more thing.”