The Zombie Uprising Series: Books One Through Five

by M. A. Robbins

  "You see that you do." He pointed at the MP. "Escort them back to their aircraft, Code One. Radio the tower on the way and get them cleared for takeoff. Highest priority."

  The MP looked at Jen, then back at the general. "Yes, sir."

  Howell saluted Lewis. "Honor to serve with you, sir."

  The general returned his salute. "Sergeant, your mission is to get these people safe to Atlanta."

  "Yes, sir."

  Howell followed the MP truck, its lights flashing and siren wailing, through the traffic and to the flight line. "Look," Zeke said.

  The zombies had reached the gap. No artillery hits sounded in the south. "I don't think they've re-aimed the artillery yet."

  An Apache zoomed over them and sprayed gunfire at the zombies climbing over the wall. "It's too damn late," Mark said. "They can keep some back, but can't bomb the horde at the wall without taking the wall out."

  Humvees, APCs, and trucks streaked toward the gap. Ground troops rushed in and took cover, then opened fire.

  The zombie wave crashed over the wall, overwhelming the forces lined against them. Soldiers continued pouring fire into the mob, but one by one they disappeared under the wall of undead.

  Howell pulled up to the plane. The crewman had a rifle and fired at zombies washing over an APC. "You're fueled up," he said. "Get the hell out of here."

  They piled in and Mark started the engine. "We may not have a clear runway. Hang on."

  The MP rolled down his window and gestured for them to follow. Mark nodded.

  The leading edge of the mob had reached the runway. A zombie here and a zombie there, it wouldn't be another minute before it was flooded with the main body of the attack.

  The MP sped ahead, swerving from side to side and knocking zombies out of the way. Mark pushed the throttle forward. Even with the help, it'd be close.

  A mass of zombies poured onto the end of the runway. "Shit," Mark said. "They're shortening the damn runway. Hang on."

  He pressed the throttle to the max. The MP truck accelerated, knocking zombies aside, clearing a narrow path for the plane.

  The plane lifted as the MP truck plowed into a thick wall of undead and came to a stop. Zombies washed over it.

  Mark had the wheel pulled back as far as he could. A drop of sweat tracked down his cheek. "Come on. Come on."

  The plane shuddered, then soared over the wall.

  "We hit something," Mark said, "but we made it. We'll need to do a tower flyby at Grand Forks and have them check our landing gear for damage."

  The plane continued climbing. Mark banked it in a wide circle, and Jen pressed her face to the window.

  The undead had penetrated halfway into the base. Gunfire erupted everywhere. Squads of soldiers held their ground and were swept over by the horde.

  The battle for Fairchild was over in minutes.

  36

  Jen's heart sank. All those brave men gone. Turned into drones.

  Howell held his head in his hands. "I don't know how we can stop that."

  "We should head to Grand Forks," Mark said. "Report what we've seen."

  Zeke had his nose pressed to the window. "Wait. Look there." He pointed to the west.

  Howell raised himself up and looked past Zeke. "What the hell is that?"

  Jen tried to look. "I can't see shit. What is it?"

  "I think we found a leader," Mark said. "Going in for a closer look."

  He banked the plane and descended to a couple hundred feet. The base was completely overrun and yet there were still miles of zombies outside its walls.

  Mark pointed out the windshield. "Look at that, Jen."

  She squinted. Ahead in the sea of undead, one stood alone, the horde flowing around it like a river around a boulder. "Can you circle it?"

  Mark put the Cessna into a tight turn, and Jen took out a pair of binoculars. Pressing them to her eyes, she adjusted the focus until the figure came into focus. She hissed as she drew in a sharp breath.

  "What is it?" Howell asked.

  Zeke leaned forward. "I want to see."

  "You won't believe it," Jen said.

  "Say it," Mark snapped.

  "That's Butler."

  Butler threw his hands into the air and every zombie froze. "Holy shit," Mark said. "He's controlling them all. Look, even on the base they're all still."

  "My God," Howell said.

  Jen peered down at Butler, whose head moved to follow the plane with his yellow eyes. "Let's get the hell out of here and report."

  "Agreed," Howell said. "The sooner the better."

  Jen pressed both middle fingers against the window. You'll see me again, you son of a bitch, and then I'll finish the job.

  Author’s Notes

  So the plot thickens in the Zombie Uprising world. If you liked The Citadel, please leave a review on Amazon. This will help the book reach more people who like the kind of stories you and I do.

  I had someone ask me if I know what’s going to happen in the next book before I write it. Well, I do to a point. I have certain milestones that I plan on meeting, but for some reason, Jen, Zeke, and the others seem to come up with a way to send the story in a whole other direction.

  But that’s what makes writing so fun to me. I love letting the characters loose to wreak havoc. Sometimes it ends up as nothing but outtakes from the book, and other times it takes it to a whole new level.

  That’s why I can’t wait to write the next book. I want to see what’s going to happen!

  If you’d like to keep up with what I’ve got coming out, sign up for my email list at uprising.marobbins.com. You’ll get a free eBook, new release announcements, updates, and even some drawings to win prizes like signed paperbacks and other unique items.

  Thank you so much for reading the Citadel. Know that I take no reader for granted and I’m truly humbled that you spent your time reading my book.

  Till next time.

  M.A. Robbins

  Acknowledgments

  I couldn’t write enough books to give my wife, Debbie, the acknowledgment she deserves. Thanks to Domi at Inspired Cover Designs for her talent, patience, and quick turnarounds. To Tamara Blain of A Closer Look Editing, who goes beyond the grammar and spelling, and finds other gremlins I’ve missed. And to the core beta readers who took their time to read the first three books of this series and provide their two cents: Maureen Meyer and Wayne Tripp. Last but not least, I have to acknowledge TBone for his patience not whining too loudly while waiting for me to finish a chapter before I take him outside to play.

  The Hybrid

  Book Four in the Zombie Uprising Series

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Author’s Notes

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2018 by M.A. Robbins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To zombie readers everywhere. Some people may think we’re weird, but they’ll eat their words when the zombies
are making hors d’oeuvres out of their intestines.

  1

  The C130 came to a stop, the tail door opened, and the ramp lowered.

  Jen stepped onto the ramp and took a deep breath. She coughed and wheezed in another breath. "Holy shit, what's the humidity here?"

  Mark walked past her with his arms spread. "Good old Southern air. Humidity's probably around ninety percent."

  Zeke bounded down the ramp in his black ninja costume. He's got to be burning up.

  "Need to get off the ramp," the crew chief said. "We've got to get going."

  Jen scanned the airport. Commercial aircraft from small Beechcraft to national airline 747s were parked, dark and silent. No baggage handlers or their tractors. No guys waving planes to or from gates. The place was dead. "Where are we supposed to go?"

  The crew chief adjusted his headset and shrugged. "No idea. Our orders were to drop you off at Hartsfield-Jackson airport and we've completed our mission. Now, move back, please."

  Howell jogged down the ramp and to a stairway underneath a gate. "Can't change their orders, so let's see what we've got."

  Jen adjusted the double-bladed axe on her belt and followed Howell and Zeke up the stairs. Mark stayed close behind her, scanning the area. None of the schedule boards were lit and all the snack and news outlets were shuttered.

  "Reminds me of a Stephen King novel," Zeke said. "Had a scene that described this perfectly."

  "And where was everyone in that one?" Mark asked.

  Zeke smiled. "I don't do spoilers."

  "I say we head for the baggage area," Jen said.

  A sound echoed from farther down the terminal hallway. Jen lifted the axe from her belt, while Howell and Zeke pulled their pistols and Mark's mace appeared in his hands.

  "Isn't that the direction of the baggage area?" Zeke asked.

  "Screw it." Jen wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and strode across the shiny tiles of the terminal. "I want to get to the CDC, give them my blood, then reload and go after Butler."

  Mark hurried to keep up with her. "How are you going to find one zombie in the middle of millions of them?"

  "Don't know. Don't care." Jen sniffed. "All I know is I won't find him by sitting on my ass here."

  Two men in black suits appeared from around a corner fifty yards away. Jen stopped and reared back with the axe from pure instinct. The suited men reached into their suit jackets but froze when Howell and Zeke aimed at them.

  "Who are you?" Howell asked.

  One of them removed his hand from his jacket and raised it, displaying a badge. "Homeland Security. If you're the survivors from Fairchild, then we're here to take you to CDC Headquarters."

  Jen relaxed and lowered the axe. "I hope you're taking us there in something with air conditioning."

  Zeke and Howell lowered their weapons. One of the Homeland Security men, a blond with windswept hair who gave off a surfer vibe, stepped forward. "Agent Daniels." He nodded toward the other agent, a thirty-something man with dark features and piercing brown eyes. "Agent Rodriguez."

  Rodriguez flashed his badge. "Pleasure. We've got transportation out front. We were going to pick you up at the drop-off point, but all entry to the flight line is blocked."

  Mark slid his mace into his belt. "Let's get the show on the road."

  Daniels led the way through the concourse and to baggage claim. Outside, a black limousine with government plates was parked at the curb. Rodriguez opened the back door.

  Jen climbed in and nearly passed out. "It's like an oven in here."

  Rodriguez climbed into the driver's seat and started the vehicle. Seconds later cold air blasted into Jen's face. "Ahh."

  Zeke sat next to her, while Howell and Mark took the seat across from them. Daniels jumped into the passenger seat and the limo took off.

  Jen leaned back, enjoying the arctic air flowing over her face. I don't remember ever being this hot in my life.

  Howell peered out the windshield. They were just leaving the airport.

  "Not much traffic," he said.

  Daniels shifted in his seat and turned to the passengers. "You'll get a full debriefing I'm sure, but we have a fuel crisis. With several refineries down and others in danger from the horde, all commercial aircraft have been grounded and gasoline is being rationed."

  Mark frowned. "Any attacks since Fairchild?"

  "Smaller towns," Rodriguez said. "Nothing big. But the military is pouring into the front line bases like Mountain Home Air Force Base in Idaho and Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada."

  They came to a stoplight, and Rodriguez slowed as the light turned red. Several cars passed through, each one loaded with people. A cop car went the other way. Jen caught a glimpse of a cop in the passenger side in full riot gear. Smart idea. Makes it harder for the zombies to bite through.

  The light changed and Rodriguez turned onto Norman Berry Drive. They passed a strip mall with a smattering of cars and trucks in the parking lot. Two cabbies stood outside their parked cabs, talking.

  Goosebumps formed on Jen's arms. "You can turn the AC down a little. Even an Alaskan girl has her limits."

  Daniels adjusted the fan speed as the limo entered an intersection. A pickup flashed by mere feet in front of them and Rodriguez slammed on the brakes, spilling Jen onto the floor. Tires squealed, followed by a sickening crunch.

  Doors opened as Jen pulled herself up. A late-model truck, its front end pushed in, rested against the folded side of a minivan. Jen hopped out of the limo and joined the others running to the crash site.

  The truck's driver's door popped open. A thin, middle-age man in worn jeans and a straw cowboy hat stepped out and collapsed to his knees.

  "You OK?" Jen dashed to his side.

  He shook his head as though to clear it. "Just a little dizzy."

  She put a hand on his back. "Why don't you sit down. I'm sure an ambulance is on its way." She eased him to the ground.

  She stuck her head in the truck. An older woman sat on the passenger seat, her head lying against her window, a star pattern radiating from the impact point of her head. Jen checked her pulse. Weak and fluttering.

  "What you got?" Mark's voice came from behind her.

  She backed up and straightened, cracking her neck. "This lady needs an ambulance sooner rather than later." She nodded at the man in the straw hat. "He's shaken up, but should be OK."

  Daniels jogged over. "Ambulance and backup on the way. Three minutes out."

  "Backup?" Jen asked.

  Rodriguez joined them. "New protocols. Everyone needs to get back to the limo."

  "But there are people hurt over here," Zeke called out. He stood next to the ruined minivan, his face pinched. "There are eight people crammed in here."

  Howell leaned over the minivan's driver, a thirtyish brunette with a gash on her forehead that bled like a stream. "Some of these people will die if they don't get help now."

  Two other vehicles stopped on the side of the road and four men came running. "Need any help?"

  "No." Daniels waved them away. "Everyone away from the vehicles, Now."

  Howell gestured to the others. "Come on. Orders are orders." He herded them to the limo.

  One of the civilians, a bear of a man with a shock of red hair, unbuckled the old lady from the truck and gently lifted her. "I'm not leaving someone's grandmama to die." He bent down to lay her next to the Straw Hat Man, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  "Bless your heart," the redheaded man said. "Strong enough to hang on."

  The old lady clenched his neck and pulled him closer. "What the hell?" He struggled to keep his balance before letting out a scream and pummeling the woman with his fists.

  She fell back, a chunk of bloody flesh in her mouth. The redhead stumbled away, holding onto his gushing wound.

  The old lady swallowed her prize whole and fell upon Straw Hat Man, who struggled against her.

  Yelling came from the minivan. Two of the other men raced b
ack to their vehicle and peeled out. A pair of legs stuck out of the driver's door and kicked in the air as a desperate scream came from inside.

  Jen pulled her axe and sprinted for Grandma Zombie. She'd just torn Straw Hat Man's soft abdomen open and had her face pressed into his guts like a kid bobbing for apples at a Halloween party. Jen drove her axe blade deep into the back of Grandma's head and she went limp.

  Shots came from the limo. Zeke leaned across its hood and aimed at the minivan, smoke coming from the end of his barrel. The thirtyish woman lay facedown by the minivan, the back of her head blown out.

  Zeke and Mark ran to the van. Mark cracked the skull of a teenage boy as he leapt from the vehicle, and Zeke shot through a window several times.

  A growl made Jen spin. Straw Hat Man's yellow eyes locked on her. Her axe still buried in the old lady's head, she backpedaled out of the zombie's grasp. Another shot came from behind and a bullet hole appeared in the zombie's eye. He collapsed in a heap.

  Sirens approached, and Jen wiped blood from around her eyes. Some of these freaking things splatter like a bitch.

  She jerked the axe from grandma's skull and wiped it off on the old lady's dress before slipping it back into her belt.

  An ambulance screamed to a stop, its siren cutting off. Two police cars stopped behind it and four cops in riot gear and weapons jumped out. Jen stumbled toward them. "You guys can relax. We took care of it for you."

  A cop with a shotgun aimed it at her. "Let's clean this up, men."