Rise of the Undead (Book 3): Apocalypse Z

by Higgins, Baileigh

  King looked up as they entered and pointed toward three bundles. “That’s for you, guys. Miss Young, you can dress in the back room. No one will bother you there.”

  “Thanks,” Dylan said, scooping up her stuff and ducking into the offered room. She closed the door behind her and examined the gear with a frown. She wasn’t with the army, and the uniform was alien to her. Oh, well, here goes.

  With nervous fingers, Dylan undressed and folded her clothes into a neat pile. She tugged on the t-shirt, followed by the pants and belt. The boots went on next, followed by the jacket and vest.

  The combat knife, Beretta, and radio went onto her belt, but she had no use for the rifle. She wasn’t experienced enough with its use and would probably kill someone if she tried to shoot it. Instead, she added a machete to her arsenal of weapons and tucked another knife into the top of her right boot. There, that should do it.

  After rummaging through the backpack, she determined it contained a canteen of water, a packet of rations, batteries, a torch, a first-aid kit, and extra ammo for the rifle and sidearm. She tossed the rifle bullets aside and tucked several full magazines for the sidearm into the available pockets on her vest.

  A knock on the door announced Saul. “Need any help?”

  “I can’t use the rifle,” she answered, pointing to the gun and its ammunition. “I’ll take the pistol, the knife, and my machete.”

  “That’s alright. Your load will be lighter, in any case. You’d better use this, though,” he said, producing a silencer.

  “Thanks, but these aren’t really silent. Not like in the movies,” Dylan said, eyeing the hollow tube. “That’s a myth.”

  “I know it’s not silent, but it will help to reduce the noise. Trust me; you don’t want to fight in narrow hallways with automatic rifles and pistols thundering in your ears. You’ll burst an eardrum.”

  “Why not wear earplugs?” Dylan asked.

  “Then, you won’t hear anything coming at you.” He screwed the silencer onto her Beretta before helping her put on the backpack, gloves, and helmet. Afterward, he looked her up and down with an approving nod. “You’re a proper soldier now.”

  “That’s hilarious,” Dylan replied, but one look in the mirror showed her he was right. With her hair tucked into the helmet, the chinstrap, full uniform, and the jacket zipped to the chin, she looked like a boy — a soldier boy.

  Nick appeared in the door and stared at her. “Looking good, Miss Young.”

  “Why, thank you, sergeant. You’re looking rather dashing yourself,” Dylan replied with a flutter of her eyelashes. The humor helped to relieve the nervous tension in her stomach.

  “Are we ready to go?” Saul asked once they all had their gear in place.

  “I am,” Dylan said.

  “Me too,” Nick replied.

  They walked out into the cold and joined Lieutenant King and his team. Together, they jogged toward the USAMRIID building where Tara, Ethan, Dr. Patel, Dr. Wilkins, Major Reed, and a few others waited. The perimeter bristled with armed guards huddled behind a wall of barbed wire and concrete.

  “The major really doesn’t want the zombies to get out, does he?” Dylan asked with a whistle.

  “Evidently not,” Saul replied.

  “Not that I blame him,” Nick said.

  A decontamination tent had been set up close to the entrance of the lab, and Tara gave them a tour. It was a simple affair. Bins lined with plastic waited for their clothes and equipment, a chemical shower, a regular shower, and a dressing room lined the wall, cordoned off with plastic.

  “Where are your clothes?” Tara asked.

  “Back at the armory,” Dylan said.

  “I’ll send someone to fetch it. Lieutenant King and his men’s stuff, as well,” Tara added.

  “Thanks, Doc,” Dylan replied.

  “And please remember what I told you about safety inside the lab. I don’t want to lose any of you to germs.”

  “Ay, ay, Captain,” Dylan said with a mocking salute.

  Before Tara could cuss her out for not being serious enough, Ethan showed up. “Hey, Dylan. Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure, Ethan. Any time.” Ignoring Nick’s scowl, Dylan followed the doctor outside to the medical tent that stood waiting for an emergency. It, too, was simple. A couple of beds with clean sheets and fresh pillows were lined up, and trays with gleaming surgical implements gleamed in the light.

  It was empty inside, and Ethan turned toward her with a nervous look on his face. “Look. I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just gonna get it over and done with.”

  “What’s wrong, Ethan?” Dylan asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…” Ethan hesitated for several seconds before bursting out. “I like you, Dylan. From the first moment I met you, I knew you were the one for me. I left Vandalia to look for you, and I was never happier than when I found you again.”

  Dylan stared at him, dumbstruck. Granted, she’d known there was something between them, a spark, but there hadn’t been any time to explore it. They’d never had the chance to talk or get to know one another. “I…um, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Ethan said, raising his hands to forestall her. “I just had to tell you how I felt before you went into that building. I realize you might not feel the same about me, but no matter what, promise me one thing.”

  Dylan swallowed, her mouth dry. “What’s that?”

  “Promise me you’ll come out alive,” Ethan said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

  Dylan was held captive by the intensity of his gaze. She’d never noticed until now how beautiful his eyes were. A liquid honey-brown filled with all the love and compassion he could muster. “I promise.”

  “I need you to mean it,” Ethan insisted, leaning closer. “When you’re inside that lab, and all seems lost, remember this moment. Remember your promise.”

  Dylan nodded. “I’ll remember.”

  Ethan stared at her for a couple of seconds longer, searching her expression. Suddenly, he pressed a kiss to her lips, his hands pulling her close to his chest. It lasted for only a moment. Before she could blink, he was gone.

  “Ethan,” she called, but he ducked out of the tent without looking back. Beyond him, stood a familiar figure, gazing at her. Her eyes focused on the man’s face, and she sucked in a horrified breath. Nick! How much did he see?

  The expression on his face, angry and betrayed, said it all. He’d seen the kiss, and no matter what she said, he’d never believe she didn’t ask for it.

  “We’re about to go in. The team is waiting for you,” Nick said. Without another word, he whirled around and strode away, his back and shoulders ramrod straight.

  Dylan’s hands balled into fists, and her teeth clenched together as she uttered a frustrated cry. Why now? Of all the worst possible times in the world, Ethan had to choose this one to confess his feelings. And of course, Nick just happened to see it.

  A swirl of conflicting emotions churned inside her brain. She didn’t know how she felt about either of them. She liked Ethan. He was a good man, and she could do a lot worse, but she hardly knew him. As for Nick, he was fun. He made her laugh, and he got her…somehow. That didn’t mean she loved him or wanted to be more than friends.

  “Argh, men. The stupid things,” she muttered. With a stamp of her foot, Dylan stalked out of the tent. It didn’t matter how they felt or even how she felt. When the mission was over, she was leaving. Bye to Fort Detrick and all its assholes. The good ones and the bad ones.

  ***

  “Please, be careful, Dylan. Promise me you’ll look after Saul, and that you’ll both come back alive,” Tara pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “I promise, Tara,” Dylan said, though the irony of making more promises she could hardly be expected to keep wasn’t lost on her.

  “Don’t forget Nick. He’s one of us now,” Tara added.

  Dylan and Nick exchanged loaded loo
ks, but she smiled at Tara. “Of course, I won’t. He’s a good friend.”

  Nick’s lips thinned at the word friend. He managed to keep his cool, however, and said, “I’m glad you think of me like family, Tara, and I’ll do my best to watch over them both.”

  “Thank you, Nick.” With a loud sniff, Tara turned toward Saul, and the waterworks began again. After a tearful goodbye, she reluctantly allowed them all to leave.

  With Saul in the lead, Dylan and Nick were allowed through the concrete barrier by the guards and joined Lieutenant King and his team. They assembled in front of the USAMRIID building’s main entrance. The doors were imposing, the frosted glass impossible to see through. She shifted from one foot to the other, wondering what lay beyond.

  Nick avoided her gaze, and she returned the favor. She was in no mood for games, not with reality staring her right in the face. Within the next few minutes, she’d be entering a laboratory filled with deadly diseases and flesh-eating zombies. The chances of dying were high, no matter what promises she’d made to who. When it came down to it, life was fragile, and anything could cut the slim thread that tied a person to it.

  Lieutenant King looked at each of them with his pale eyes. “Are you ready?”

  “Sir, yes, Sir!” his team and Sergeant Nick yelled, their bodies at attention.

  Saul looked just as eager as they did, and none of them betrayed the nervous tension and fear they must’ve felt. At least, Dylan hoped they did because she was scared shitless. Please, don’t let me be the only scaredy-cat around here.

  Yet, underneath the terror, there was growing excitement. It bubbled through her veins, and when two of the men approached the entrance, she found herself ready and eager for battle.

  The doors to the lab swung open, a yawning cavern to unknown horrors. Everyone tensed, fingers hovering above the triggers of their guns, but nothing came howling out. Only silence and a waft of putrid air emanated from the inner confines.

  Dylan gagged and turned her head away. The smell was like something out of this world. Thick, cloying, and pervasive. Saul glanced at her and must have felt pity. The next moment he handed her a bandanna.

  “Try this,” he whispered.

  “Thanks,” she replied, tying it on over the lower half of her face. The material reeked of cologne and helped to mask the stench of death. Once again, Saul proved to be a lifesaver.

  Lieutenant King signaled to his team, and they moved forward, scanning the entrance with their rifles at the ready. Saul followed them inside with Dylan right on his tail. She swallowed hard on the knot in her throat, her fingers sweaty around the handle of her machete. Behind her, the doors swung shut and sealed them inside. This is it. No turning back now.

  Chapter 13 - Alex

  Two days after Tony’s death, Alex and Amy were ready to hit the road. After a quick shower and breakfast, they gathered around the truck along with Officer Brown, Dr. Williams, and Nurse Simone.

  “Thank you for everything, Officer Brown. If you hadn’t taken us in, we wouldn’t be alive today,” Alex said, shaking the man’s hand.

  “It was a pleasure. It’s not often that one meets decent folk in the apocalypse,” Officer Brown replied. “If you ever need a home, you’ll find it here.”

  “We’ll remember that,” Alex replied.

  Amy said her goodbyes, giving Dr. Williams and Simone each a warm hug.

  D. Williams wagged a finger at Amy. “Look after yourself, dear. Remember, your body is a temple, and you should look after it.”

  “This is for you,” Simone said, looping a thick woolen scarf around Amy’s neck. “Just a little something to remember me by.”

  With much waving and looking back on Amy’s part, they pulled out of the lot. It took two more blocks before they were completely clear of all the barricades and guards, and another few before they exited Radcliff.

  Alex sped up and cracked open his window. The wind felt good on his face even though it was cold, and Amy didn’t seem to mind. Her entire focus lay on the road ahead, and her excitement was palpable.

  It didn’t take long to reach the old safe house, and after a careful look around, Alex pulled into the driveway. He idled the engine for a couple of minutes to make sure there weren’t any lost zombies wandering around. “See anything?”

  Amy craned her neck to study the yard and look into the broken home. It looked nothing like it had before. Every window on the lower floor was broken, and the front door hung askew on its hinges. The yard was trampled to dust, and the wall had been pushed over in several places. There were plenty of bodies too. The infected they shot during their escape to the basement.

  “I don’t see any living zombies,” Amy confirmed. “Jeez, it looks bad. I didn’t know it looked this bad.”

  Alex grunted. “It’s even worse inside. Lots of blood and guts. More bodies too.”

  Amy wrinkled her nose. “Eeuw. Here, take my scarf. It might help with the smell.”

  Alex tied it around his lower face, and its faint perfume invaded his nostrils. Probably Simone’s. Either way, he’d take it if it took the edge of the stench.

  He opened his car door and gripped his rifle. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  “But, I want to come with you,” Amy protested.

  “Not a chance. It’s too dangerous,” Alex said. “Besides, I’m just checking to make sure Dylan isn’t here. That’s it.”

  Amy folded her arms and huffed. “Fine, but you’d better hurry, or I’m coming after you.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Alex said, wagging his finger at her.

  He jogged toward the house but stayed on high alert with his rifle held at the ready. He nudged open the broken door and picked his way through the debris. Room by room, he searched, but found nothing. There was no sign of Dylan. Not a note. Nothing.

  He did find their backpacks, however, filled with their clothes and personal belongings. He grabbed both and slung them onto his back. Back at the truck, he filled Amy in on his findings. “Dylan’s not here, and it doesn’t look like she ever was, but I did find this inside the house.”

  Amy grinned and grabbed her backpack. “You found my stuff!”

  “Indeed, I did. Happy?”

  She leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Happy.”

  “Then I guess we can go,” he replied.

  “What if she does come here later on? Can’t you leave her a message?” Amy asked.

  “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll get right on it.”

  Alex returned to the kitchen and scribbled a note to Dylan, which he stuck onto the refrigerator. “We are alive. Amy is fine. We are heading toward Fort Detrick. Alex.”

  He stood back and surveyed his handiwork. The red lettering was bright and bold against the white background and couldn’t be missed. “There, that should do it.”

  On the way out, he decided to stock up on a few extra things. While the truck was loaded with supplies thanks to Officer Brown, it never hurt to have extra. After squeezing a few cases of water, canned food, and jerry cans of fuel into the back of their vehicle, he remembered the weapons in the basement. “I’ll be right back, Sis. One more trip and we’re out of here.”

  “Okay, but be careful,” she answered.

  Alex returned to the basement with a torch to light the way. It was just as he remembered it, and the sight sent a shudder down his spine. The days and nights they’d spent trapped in its confines were the worst of his life, and he never wanted to experience something like that again. A vivid flashback of the moment they were trapped inside forced its way into his mind.

  ***

  Alex risked a glance over his shoulder and spotted Amy’s silhouette framed in the open doorway of the basement. The lamp shone next to her feet like a beacon, and he ran toward it as fast as he could.

  “Watch out!” Amy raised her shotgun and fired off a blast.

  The buckshot whistled past his ear, so close he could feel the wind on his skin. A dull thud sounded, an
d a zombie collapsed right behind him. He twisted sideways and snapped off a couple of quick shots.

  “Move it, Alex,” Amy said. “There’s too many of them.”

  The infected pressed in from every side, the house a leaky sieve with no end in sight. Amy fired again, and two zombies crashed to the ground at the same time. For some reason, that struck her as funny, and she began to laugh hysterically. “Hey, look! A twofer!”

  Alex ignored her and kept shooting, picking off the infected one after another. They piled up in a circle around them, tripping those that came next. That gave him a slight lead, and he closed the gap between him and the basement.

  He finally reached Amy’s side, and she yanked him to safety. Two zombies filled the open doorway, and she fired her third and final round into their snarling faces. The blast obliterated their features, and she cried, “Shut it now!”

  Alex lunged forward and slammed the door shut. With a deft twist, he engaged the lock. Immediately, the hammering of dozens of fists formed a steady beat in their ears. The infected screeched and howled like banshees, loud enough to burst an eardrum.

  ***

  That was the moment he knew. They were caught like rats in a trap. To this day, Alex still didn’t know what caused the zombies to move on. He only knew that if they hadn’t, he wouldn’t be alive, and neither would Amy.

  Alex shook his head. It didn’t help to dwell on such things. It only drove a person mad. Like Tony and little Laura. He’d failed them both, but it didn’t help to wallow in self-pity. He’d made mistakes. It was human, after all. The main thing was that he learned from those mistakes and didn’t repeat them.

  Grabbing two duffel bags, he set about filling them with the weapons Saul had collected. It was all still there. Nobody had found the stash, which was a huge bonus. When he’d crammed in the whole lot, he dragged it outside and loaded it into the truck. “There, that’s everything.”