Rise of the Undead (Book 3): Apocalypse Z

by Higgins, Baileigh

  “This is from Major Reed, Sir,” the soldier said, handing over a note.

  Saul took it with muttered thanks. On his way back to the kitchen, he opened it and scanned the writing. “Interesting. ”

  “What does it say?” Tara asked. When Saul didn’t answer straight away, she tapped her foot on the floor. “Well?”

  Saul looked up at her with a massive grin on his face. “It says that we’re all summoned to a meeting at ten-fifteen this morning.”

  “What for?”

  “The major has given permission for the lab to be cleared,” Saul said.

  “I can’t believe it. It’s happening!” Tara cried, her voice shrill with excitement. She threw herself into Saul’s arms, and he twirled her around in a circle. “All our hard work, all the crap we’ve had to put up with...it’s finally paying off.”

  “That’s good news,” Nick added, saluting them with his coffee cup. “Another thing to be thankful for.”

  The only one who didn’t seem thrilled about it all was Dylan. She threw her head back and groaned. “Why did this have to happen on the one day that I’ve got a major hangover?”

  Saul had little sympathy for her. “Too bad. Take a cold shower and shake it off. I’ll paint the house while you’re busy.”

  “I’ll help,” Nick offered.

  “Thanks, you guys,” Dylan called as she ran up the steps.

  “You can thanks us later, just get your ass into gear,” Saul said with a grim smile. “We’re going to war.”

  Chapter 9 - Alex

  Very little light penetrated the gloom caused by the mob of undead streaming past the truck, and the stench of decay filled the tiny area until Alex wanted to choke. With his free hand, he pulled up his shirt until it covered his nose. The flimsy material didn’t block the smell completely, but it was better than nothing. He looked over at Tony and noticed he’d done the same. Their eyes met, and they exchanged grim looks.

  “What now?” Tony mouthed silently.

  “We wait,” Alex mouthed back.

  And wait, they did.

  Thirty minutes passed, and the undead ranks showed no signs of thinning. Alex shifted around to make himself comfortable. He ended up with his head resting on his free arm while the other cradled his rifle.

  He stared at the legs moving past and tried to amuse himself by guessing what type of person they belonged to. Laddered stockings and court shoes indicated a middle-aged secretary, perhaps. Or a librarian. Ballet pumps with glitter detail pointed to a teen girl, fancy sneakers to a skateboarder, maybe. A pair of steel-toed work boots meant a construction worker, of course, and the sensible shoes belonged to a nurse.

  After a while, he closed his eyes and tried to forget where he was, but the noise made it impossible. It was a mixture of sounds that blended into one continuous symphony: Feet shuffled across the tar, shoes crunched on gravel, material rubbed against the side of the truck, and throats moaned with hunger.

  Now and then, the truck rocked from side to side above their heads, the suspension creaking with the movement. At other times, snarls broke out, and a scuffle ensued as two or more of the infected bumped heads. While they might be the same kind of creature, that didn’t mean they were friends.

  Two hours passed with excruciating slowness, and Alex began to feel thirsty. His lips dried, and his mouth grew sticky as the saliva thickened. With a muffled groan, he closed his eyes again, determined to get a little rest.

  It was a lost cause. His joints ached from the lack of movement, and his muscles had gone numb. He’d lost all feeling in his feet and lower legs while pinpricks stung his fingers. Suddenly, one of the undead stumbled over its own feet and fell to its knees. Its hands hit the road skinning its palms. Bits of skin and flesh clung to the gravel.

  Alex held his breath, hoping the infected didn’t fall. If it did, they were doomed. After a couple of seconds, the zombie got back to its feet and shuffled onward. Alex heaved a silent sigh of relief. While he prided himself on being brave, he wasn’t an idiot, and he didn’t want to die. I want to see Amy again. I want to travel. I want to live.

  The constant fear was wearing him out. Every time a fight broke out, or a zombie stumbled, his body released a fresh spurt of adrenalin. That prompted a fight-or-flight response, which he was forced to ignore. The hormonal spikes were exhausting, and he found himself praying for an end to the ordeal. Please, make it stop. Please, stop.

  Next to him, Tony suffered the same tortures of hell. Another couple of hours rolled past, and still they lay: Silent, unmoving, and terrified of discovery. Their thirst grew worse, especially in the muggy heat caused by so many bodies around them. Muscles cramped, and limbs ached. Without being able to stop themselves, they fidgeted non-stop, unable to lie still for more than a few seconds at a time.

  The undead kept coming, streaming past in a never-ending river of death and decay. Alex had long since realized that they were in the middle of a swarm of zombies thousands strong. It had to be the Fort Knox group. It couldn’t possibly be an ordinary crowd.

  The next moment, Tony twitched. His legs jerked, banging against Alex, again and again. A curious groan left his lips, low but audible. Then he spoke. “No more. No more.”

  Horrified, Alex looked at him in the gloom. Tony’s eyes were wide and staring, unseeing. His mouth twitched, the lips flapping open and shut like a fish out of water. “No more. No more.”

  Shit, he’s gone off his rocker, Alex thought with alarm.

  He reached out with his free hand and shook Tony by the shoulder. The other man’s eyes swiveled about in their sockets before settling on Alex. A semblance of sanity returned to his gaze, but the twitching didn’t stop.

  Desperate to calm Tony down, Alex leaned closer and whispered. “For God’s sake, hold still. Stop moving.”

  It didn’t work, and the shuddering grew worse. Tony’s eyes glazed over again, and he kept swinging his head from side to side. “Stop. It has to stop.”

  His voice was rising in pitch, and very soon, the infected would be able to hear him even above the racket they caused. Alex had to do something and fast. He shook Tony again and again before risking a slap across the cheek. “Tony, please. You’ll kill us both. What about my sister?”

  Tony paused. “Sister?”

  “Yes, Amy. She needs me, Tony,” Alex said. “I can’t die here like this.”

  “Amy,” Tony mumbled, his body relaxing in slow increments.

  Relief flooded Alex’s veins. “Yes, that’s it. Think of Amy. She’s waiting for me back home. For us.”

  “Waiting for us?”

  “That’s right. She needs us to be strong. She’s only sixteen.”

  “Sixteen. Sweet sixteen,” Tony said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I had a daughter once. She was also sixteen.”

  “Yeah, what was her name?” Alex asked, determined to keep the man’s attention away from the zombies.

  “Alice. Her name was Alice.”

  “That’s a beautiful name,” Alex replied.

  “She was beautiful. Just like her mom.”

  “What happened to them,” Alex asked.

  “She died. They all died,” Tony said.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Alex replied, saddened by the grief he saw in Tony’s expression. The hurt that lay in the back of his eyes.

  “You can’t let that happen to Amy,” Tony said the next moment. “She’s innocent. One of the genuinely nice people left in this world. She’s like Alice.”

  Alex was taken aback by the sentiment. He’d always figured Tony for a man of no emotion and zero attachments. He had no friends except Officer Brown, no hobbies except killing zombies. I was wrong. He had a family once — a life.

  “I won’t let anything happen to Amy. I promise,” Alex said, looking at the passing legs of the undead. Did he imagine it, or were they thinning out?

  “Good. I’ll hold you to that,” Tony replied, his posture more relaxed now that the panic attack had passed.


  After a while, Alex grew confident that the crowd was growing less. Gaps appeared between them, allowing a breath of fresh air to sweep beneath the vehicle. The gloom lifted, and his vision grew sharper. As the front and mid-runners passed by, the stragglers became evident. Those slower than the rest either because of the natural frailty of the host or an injury.

  As the horde thinned, so did the noise, and Alex knew they had to be careful. In the lowest whisper he could manage, he said, “They’re almost gone. Just a few more minutes, but we have to keep quiet, okay?”

  Tony nodded, his lips pressed together.

  Together, they waited.

  And waited.

  After another long hour, the last zombies made their way up the street and around the bend. Once they were gone, Alex took a careful look around. The area looked deserted. “See anything?”

  “Nothing on my side,” Tony answered as he leopard-crawled out from underneath the truck.

  A child zombie emerged from behind the other vehicle and spotted Tony the moment he moved. Somehow, they’d missed the young boy. Somehow, they hadn’t seen the skinny legs hidden behind the thick tires of the other vehicle.

  The infected kid snarled and pounced on Tony, landing on his back. Tony reached back with one hand to hold the little demon at bay. “Get it off, get it off.”

  Alex rolled to the side, hampered by the small space. His rifle was useless in the tight quarters. He needed something smaller, more maneuverable, and reached for his sidearm. “Hold on!”

  “Hurry the fuck up. It’s gonna bite me!” Tony cried. The zombie boy clung to him like a leech, its hands buried in his jacket. Sharp teeth nipped at the back of Tony’s neck, missing by less than an inch each time.

  Tony was holding the kid back with only one arm; the other was trapped beneath him. He kicked with his legs and wiggled his way out from under the truck. Once in the clear, he twisted to the side and grabbed for the infected with both hands, frantic to keep it at a distance. The two struggled back and forth across the asphalt.

  Alex gripped his sidearm and pulled it out. He tried to line up a shot, until he realized his mistake. If he pulled the trigger, the noise would draw the horde back. He didn’t dare use a gun.

  He dropped the sidearm and grabbed for his knife instead. “I’ll have to come at you from the other side. Hold on, Tony.”

  “I’m trying. Hurry up,” Tony shouted.

  Alex rolled out from underneath the truck and shot to his feet. He was hampered by the lack of blood circulation in his veins, and his body refused to function correctly. He hobbled toward the struggling pair with the knife gripped in one hand. “I’m almost there.”

  He rounded the corner and froze when sudden silence met his ears. Tony’s wide eyes were fixed on his, and his mouth was stretched open in a silent scream. The infected child had latched onto his throat like a piranha. It reared back with a chunk of flesh clenched between its teeth, and blood sprayed into the air.

  Alex’s heart sank. I’m too late.

  He ran closer and stabbed the zombie kid through the eye, thrusting the knife to the hilt. The infected stiffened in death, and he flung the corpse aside.

  Alex whirled toward Tony, but one look was all it took. It was over for the man. A gaping tear in the side of his neck spurted arterial blood. It pumped out with each heartbeat, and death was imminent.

  Even so, Alex refused to give up. He dropped to his knees and pressed both hands to the wound. Blood pushed out between his fingers, and Tony gasped for breath as he began to choke on the thick fluid.

  “Hold on, Tony. Help is coming,” Alex cried, one hand reaching for the radio. He switched it on. “Officer Brown, come in. Over.”

  “Officer Brown here. We saw what happened. We’re grabbing medical supplies and coming out. Over.”

  “Copy that. Over.” Alex tossed the radio aside and tried to stem the flow of blood once more.

  Suddenly, Tony reached up and grabbed Alex by the elbow. “Stop. It’s over. I’m done.”

  “No, you can’t give up. We can still save you. We just have to patch up this wound and take you to Fort Detrick. There’s a cure, Tony. A cure.”

  Tony shook his head, bloody froth bubbling from his lips. “Forget me, Alex. Go home. Go home to Amy.”

  “No, don’t give up,” Alex pleaded.

  Tony blew out one long breath, and his body went limp. His eyes stared up at the sky, and his facial muscles slackened in death.

  “You can’t die,” Alex cried, shaking his head. He was suddenly reminded of all the people he’d lost. His parents, childhood friends, army chums, ex-girlfriends, teachers, bosses, distant cousins. All either dead or undead.

  A steady hand descended onto Alex’s shoulder, and Officer Brown spoke in his ear. “Tony’s gone. Let him be.”

  Alex shook his head. “It’s not fair. I could’ve saved him.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Officer Brown said, pulling him away from the body. “You did all you could.”

  Molly moved closer and draped her jacket across Tony’s face. “Goodbye, Tony. You were a good man.”

  Alex shook his head. “This isn’t right.”

  “Such things are never right. Let him go to his family. He deserves that much,” Officer Brown said.

  Alex slumped as the anger left him in a rush. “He told me about them.”

  “He did? I’m surprised. He never spoke about them to anyone except me,” Officer Brown replied.

  “It’s because of Amy,” Alex mumbled, his mind a haze. “He saw his daughter in her. Why didn’t he say so earlier? Why did he hate me?”

  “He didn’t hate you. He envied you,” Officer Brown replied. “You had what he’d already lost. A family.”

  Alex watched as Officer Brown made sure Tony wouldn’t reanimate before loading the body onto one of the trucks. The rest of the supplies went onto the empty trailer, and then they were on their way back to base.

  “Here, take this,” Molly said, handing him a bunch of tissues. “For your hands.”

  On autopilot, Alex took the tissues and wiped the blood from his skin. Some of it had already dried, and the stains wouldn’t come off. To him, it seemed fitting. It’s my fault he died. I should’ve moved faster. I should’ve tried harder.

  Chapter 10 - Amy

  Amy lay nestled on her side, both hands tucked between her knees. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep despite the medicine Dr. Williams had prescribed. She was far too worried about Alex for the pills to take full effect. Instead, she drifted in a haze, daydreaming.

  A knock on the door caused her to jerk upright. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Simone. I’ve come to tell you that you’re brother is on his way back. Officer Brown radioed it through. No need for you to worry anymore,” Simone answered, her eyes sparkling.

  “He’s coming back?” Amy cried. In a flash, she was off the bed, still fully dressed. The next moment, her feet were flying across the floor.

  “Hey, wait for me!” Simone cried.

  “Hurry up, slowpoke,” Amy replied, not slowing down.

  She raced through the hospital toward the emergency ward exit. The doors were closed and watched over by an armed guard. He raised one hand to stop her and said. “No one is allowed outside during a lockdown, Miss.”

  “Please, let me through. My brother is on his way back from a supply run, and I need to see him.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. Step away from the exit,” he said, his face set into a stubborn mask.

  Amy groaned with rising frustration. What to do, what to do?

  Simone reached her side and added her pleas to Amy’s. “Come on, Joey. Let the poor girl through. I’ll walk with her and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

  Joey hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s against the rules.”

  “We won’t tell. I swear it,” Amy said.

  Joey shook his head. “Officer Brown will kill me.”

  “H
e doesn’t have to know it’s you,” Amy said. “We’ll tell him we snuck out.”

  “Please!” Simone said, fluttering her lashes. “I’ll go on that date with you.”

  “A date?”

  “You heard me. You’ve been asking forever. Now’s your chance.”

  Amy danced from one foot to the other, hoping that Joey would agree despite his fear of the rules and Officer Brown.

  “You’re going to get me into a lot of trouble, you know that, Simone?” Joey replied.

  “Ah, but I’m worth it,” she replied, flashing him a million-watt smile.

  He sighed and stepped aside. “Make it quick, ladies, and don’t tell anyone it was me.”

  “Thanks,” Amy cried, barging through the set of double doors and into the late afternoon sun.

  Together, she and Simone ran toward the parking lot. They arrived at the same time as Alex. The two trucks rolled into the lot and stopped side by side. A passenger door opened, and Alex stepped out, his rifle slung across his back.

  He spotted Amy and smiled. “Hey, Sis. Did you come out here to greet me?”

  She flung herself into his arms. “Of course, I did. I was worried, sick. You should’ve been back ages ago, and then I heard about the horde of zombies on your side of town.”

  “Whoa, slow down, Sis. I’m fine, I promise,” Alex said. “Still me. No zombie bites.”

  Amy studied his face and spotted the tension that he was trying to hide from her. “I’m not buying it. What happened?”

  “It’s a long story,” Alex said.

  “Well, I’ve got lots of time,” Amy said, leading him to a nearby bench.

  Simone disappeared into the crowd, making a bee-line for Molly and Jax. The three were friends and had gone to Radcliff High in the past. That suited Amy since she preferred to talk to Alex in private.

  They sat down on the seat, and Alex told Amy everything that had happened. He didn’t sugar-coat any of the events, and Amy gasped with shock when he reached the part about the zombie kid.

  “I’m so sorry, Alex. That must have been terrible for you. Are you feeling okay?” she asked.