Trepidation Read online

  A woman approached and I noticed it was Sandy. I had chatted with her when I was undercover in Z’s warehouse. She was really nice and seemed to like me a lot. Maybe she could talk Z down.

  “Z, he did save many,” she said softly. “This isn’t right. We oughtta hold a banquet in his honor, serve him another ham—not hang him like a piece of meat in a butcher shop!”

  He slapped her hard across the face. She looked shocked as she wiped blood off her lip and I wondered if she realized she had joined forces with the wrong side.

  “He didn’t save my brother, though, did he?” Z shouted at her as she cowered in fear. “No, he left him to die in that underground house of horrors. He probably did that on purpose!”

  In that moment, I realized that what I’d done, the risk I’d taken to eliminate that lab didn’t mean anything to Z and like-minded thugs. I’d solved the mystery of the disappearing members of his group, and I’d blown up the lab and saved lives, but I hadn’t saved the one life that mattered most to him, his brother’s, and now he was going to make me pay for it. I hadn’t done it on purpose though. The hybrids, zombies, and infected animals had been killing people left and right. Havoc, panic, and confusion had been running rampant. In all that chaos, all that horror, I had no idea who his brother was. I could only guess it was the man who’d taken my weapons and left me with nothing more than a pipe to fight the mindless killing machines. “I didn’t let anyone die on purpose, Z,” I said very honestly. “Please just untie me, and let’s talk face to face,” I said.

  “Or maybe I’ll kill you.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “If you wanted me dead, I’d be dead already,” I said in a tone that was much braver than I actually felt.

  He smirked. “Smart boy.”

  “So what’s this all about then?” I asked. “Why am I hanging upside down, being beaten, yet still alive? What’s the bottom line? Is this some kind of weird hazing ritual for you people, a rite of passage?”

  He sneered. “Hardly. I’d never let you join us.” He motioned around at the zombie heads. “I’m going to send you back to Max, your leader. I want you to tell him everything. Let him know I’m insane—a crazed, dangerous madman. See, this is just the beginning of what I’m gonna do to every person who lives in that city. If you don’t heed my warning and get the heck out, know that the next wave is coming soon. We want that city, and if you won’t give it to us, we’ll take it.”

  “They’re innocent,” I said. “They’re just ordinary people like you and me, just trying to survive.”

  “Pssh. Those idots, those helpless, mindless sheep are nothing like me. It’s survival of the fittest, and I will do whatever is in my power to prove to everyone that Max is not at the top of the food chain like he thinks he is. I will ruin the man, destroy him for sending spies here!” he roared. “This city is now at war, and I will destroy anyone who sides with him.”

  “Can’t we come to a compromise?” I asked. “Is there no way to stop this war?”

  “Sure. Just convince everyone in Fairport to leave town and never come back. That city is mine, and I want every single one of you out.”

  “But the town is the only safe place to live. If they cross those borders, most of them will die. You know what it’s like out there, because you were out there yourselves. There are kids in the city, some of them very small, as well as elderly people who can hardly get around. If you make them leave, you’re sentencing them to death.”

  “Dean, I am not out to save the world like you are. It is not my problem if the weak cannot fend for themselves.” With that, he motioned to his guards to release me.

  The men began shoveling the chomping heads to the side, then released me, dropping me harshly onto the cold concrete in a stiff, sore heap. A man with brown, greasy hair cut my bindings, and I quickly stood. I felt pins and needles as the circulation slowly returned to my feet.

  Z’s gaze narrowed into snake-light slits. “You are only alive because I need a messenger who can safely get to Max. You will tell them to leave. Do you understand?”

  “Where’s Claire?” I asked.

  “The redhead?”

  “You know exactly who I mean.”

  “You can see her in a minute, but first let’s go get your friends.”

  “My friends?” I asked, shocked that they hadn’t killed them already. “Where are they?” I asked.

  “They’re in one of my special holding cells outside,” he said. He gripped me by the shoulder and dragged me through the dimly lit room, then out a door and into the freezing cold. He and a group of his brutish cohorts walked me down the street, turned left, and then led me to the back of one of the other warehouses.

  When I glanced ahead, I gasped. The whole back parking lot was empty and fenced in with towering barbed wire. Z’s minions stood guard around each side, armed with shotguns to take care of any prisoners who tried to escape. Like victims forced into the Coliseum in ancient times for the entertainment of the sick masses, my friends were battling zombies; without weapons, they were fighting with every bit of strength they had to stay alive. Jimmy didn’t make it, and my heart sank as I watched him kick and thrash, screaming bloody murder as zombies pulled out his intestines, causing rivers of crimson blood to gush and pour onto the white snow.

  “Oops. Look like that one’s a goner,” Z said in a mocking tone, touching my shoulder.

  I ran to the fence and shook it. “No!” I shouted. I shut my eyes, unable to watch any the carnage any longer. I knew his screams would be etched into my mind forever. How could Z’s men stand there and do nothing? They’re all as sick as their psychotic leader! I spun around and stared hard at him. “Let them go!” I shouted. “How can anyone be this...sadistic?”

  He peered at me with wild eyes. “As I said, this is only the beginning.”

  Chapter 4

  I couldn’t believe Z would make our men fight against zombies in some kind of sick game. “If you let them go, I’ll personally deliver your message to Max,” I said. “You’ve made it quite clear.”

  “Oh, you’ll talk to Max anyway,” he said. “I only need one messenger to survive.”

  “Everyone has a price,” I said. “What’s yours?”

  “Charlie’s head on a platter,” he said, “for killing my brother.”

  “Hmm. Well, it seems we have a common enemy. He killed my girlfriend too,” I said. “Let me help you take him down.”

  “Who says I need your help?”

  “I know a lot of the scientists, and I have pretty much have free reign in the city,” I wagered. “I can get information you can’t.”

  Z pointed to the left corner. “See the injured over there?”

  “Were they bitten?”

  “No. My men roughed them up. I wanted to see if the others would protect them or if it’d be every man for himself.”

  “These men have character,” I said.

  “It seems they do. They’re selflessly protecting each other, all except for that one. His legs were broken when we threw him in, so I guess he didn’t stand much of a chance,” he said, pointing to Jimmy, who was being devoured by zombies.

  “This is sick!” I said. “I thought the zombies were monsters, but you? You’re just—”

  “Calm down, Dean. I gave them a few weapons,” Z said.

  “And that makes everything all right?”

  “Let’s see if you have character,” he said. “Half of them are injured and won’t last too much longer. I’ll let those out if you’ll go in their place.”

  “And you promise not to hurt them worse or kill them?” I asked.

  “I might be sadistic, as you put it, but I’m not a liar. I always keep my word. If you survive, I’ll let you all go.”

  I held out my hand. “Deal. Now get them outta there.”

  He shook my hand firmly.

  “And I want a weapon,” I demanded.

  “That wasn’t part of the deal,” he said with a sinister laugh.

&nb
sp; Z gave the order to release the injured men, and they scooped up the wounded from what looked like a prison yard and let them out. Then, with a hard shove, they threw me inside.

  I immediately sized up the battle. There were about five of us. At least a dozen of the zombies had been slain, but ten more were coming. I needed a blunt weapon, something that would allow a brain-killing stab. I frantically glanced around, and then I saw it. One of the dead freaks was a security guard in a dirty, torn uniform, and there was a nightstick attached to his belt. I ran over and snatched it, more than ready to deliver some blunt force trauma.

  “Dean!” Jared said.

  I didn’t even greet him, for the anger in me was surging too much when I heard zombies sickeningly slurping away as they fed on a fallen comrade. I’d done guard duty with Jimmy, and he had been a friend to me. I grabbed a zombie by its shoulders and threw it to the ground. With my heel, I crushed its head like a rotten watermelon. I kicked the next one and smashed its rotting face in. Black gore exploded, and a horrible stink filled the air. Some of the other men finished off their zombies and headed over to help me. In no time, with flaring tempers and mindless, brute strength, we killed the monsters who had taken Jimmy away from us.

  “More are comin’ this way!” Jeremy said.

  “I’ll take the two to the far left,” I said.

  He nodded. His breath became ragged, and his hands balled into white-knuckled fists as he stared ahead.

  It reminded me of our stint in Kingsville, without the huge crowd cheering the zombies on. Something heavy pushed down on my lungs, making it hard to breathe as a 200-pound walking nightmare climbed on my back and snapped its jaws near my ear, clawing at the air. With the help of two men, I kicked it off of me, and it fell over in a heap of rotting skin. I punctured its head with one clean thump of my steel-toed boot. Its skull shattered with a loud crunch, cracking like an egg.

  I let out one killing stroke after another, hoping to gain the upper hand. One zombie started to come at me, then walked right past me, as if its vision was somehow impaired. I whacked it in the back of the head, and it went down with a loud pop. “What’s the matter?” I shouted. “Not enough Vitamin A in the brains you been eatin’, buddy?” I asked as I smashed its skull for good measure, not wanting to risk it coming back and attacking one of the others.

  The snow and ice was so slippery that some of the naturally clumsy zombies couldn’t keep their balance. We took full advantage of that, but it wasn’t exactly safe for us either. As soon as one of our own slipped, the zombies pounced. Joe screamed when one went straight for his neck. I slammed my nightstick against its head so hard that some of its black teeth shattered and sprayed on Joe. Joe covered his face as I rolled the zombie off of him, then stomped its face; it exploded when I drove the skull-crunching hit home.

  Then the most inconceivable thing happened: Jimmy walked toward me. As he groaned, what was left of his intestines dragged along behind him. He’d been gutted, and it was a gruesome sight.

  I knew I had to put him down. I shook my head. “Jimmy, I’m so, so sorry.” I ran at him, but before I could get to him, Ned smashed his head with his crowbar.

  Jimmy crashed down into the snow, and Ned fell to his knees, sobbing.

  “Get up!” we all yelled.

  “This isn’t over,” I said. “More are coming!”

  As fury consumed Ned, he took down a zombie with his bare hands and stomped its head over and over—a rage I understood because I’d felt it many times.

  I peered around me at all the dead zombies littering the ground, and then I walked toward to Z and his men. “Done,” I said. “We had a deal. Now let us go.”

  “But they’re not all dead,” he said.

  “Yes they are.”

  Z pulled out his gun and lifted it high in the air, then fired off a few shots, which didn’t seem to make much sense to me.

  “Dean!” Jared called. “That’s the dinner bell.”

  “What?” I asked.

  He pointed at the snow drifts way off at the back of the make shift prison yard. “Those gunshots are...a dinner invitation!”

  I gasped at the piles of snow shaking and lifting as if something was trying to break out. A hand burst through, followed by another, till dozens and dozens of rotting hands were reaching out of the snow. A zombie with bright red hair poked its head through the snow, then worked its legs loose. At the exact same time another burst through, followed by another.

  We all exchanged terrified looks, knowing our fight had only begun.

  Chapter 5

  I turned back toward Z. “You know we can’t fight them with these crappy weapons.”

  He smirked. “As I said, weapons were not part of the deal.”

  “Get us outta here, man,” I begged.

  He shook his head. “If I were you, I’d get as many as I could while they’re still trapped in that huge snow drift we plowed.”

  If looks could have killed, he would have been a dead man. I raced through the snow to a drift where a zombie was still buried. I let out a deep breath and rammed the nightstick right through its skull. Its lifted hand fell back into the snow, and a red river trickled from its head wound. “Kill them!” I shouted. “Get as many as you can before they get to their feet!”

  “You heard Dean!” Ned shouted. “This ain’t no winter wonderland! Get to work, boys!”

  We all started smashing zombie heads with whatever makeshift weapons we could find. Those who had no weapons used their feet to smash heads in.

  A zombie, covered in snow and ice, with matted, dirty blonde hair came at me from the left. I brought my knee up high, to my chest, and kicked it, delivering a powerful blow. It fell backward and crashed into the snow. I thrust my nightstick straight into its forehead and watched as its deteriorating face caved in like a rotten melon. I gasped for breath; all that fighting took a lot out of me, as it was physically draining and strenuous work. My muscles ached, and I was out of breath, but my adrenaline surged, allowing me to keep delivering blow after lethal blow.

  Limping along, a zombie in a torn, dirty, bloody suit came from my right. As I swung my nightstick, cracking its skull, another lunged for my neck. I wrapped my leather-gloved hands around its decomposing neck and hooked my leg behind its leg, then swept my leg against its calf, forcing it to fall. The clumsy thing was no challenge, and it dropped to the ground easily. I delivered the lethal blow as gore exploded from its head.

  Joe, armed with a golf club, screamed, “Four!” and whacked a zombie next to me.

  It didn’t go down and only bent his weapon.

  I went over to take care of it, but Joe beat me to the punch—or rather to the kick, since he booted its knee out, slammed it to the ground, and furiously finished it off with a series of bone-crushing stomps.

  When the next frozen freak came at me, I lost my footing in a slippery patch of ice and fell backward. The zombie came right at me, so I placed my nightstick horizontally in its mouth to block the bite. I kicked and thrashed, but that didn’t help; even if I broke every bone in its decayed body, it wouldn’t stop going for my jugular. Fortunately, Ned saved the day by slicing its neck with the end of his shovel. Black goo and gore gushed all over me, like recycled motor oil, and I had to turn my head to avoid tasting it. After I kicked the thing off of me, Ned decapitated the flesh-eater.

  Another devilish monster lumbered through the snow. Its sunken eyes were glazed over, and its flesh was falling off. As if it had had far too many repeat visits to the plastic surgeon, it’s nose was only hanging on by a few strands. Moaning, it reached for me with its bloody hands, but within five seconds flat, I’d bashed its head in, and it was lying dead at my feet. “How’s that for a nose job?” I asked the dead thing.

  Three more zombies suddenly came at me, but I didn’t hesitate to put them out of their misery. I smashed the one to my left, then the one to my right. The third one leapt at me, and I jumped back against the chain-link fence. I gave it a powerful kick th
at caused it to stumble backward, but it wasn’t down for the count. A standing jump-kick shoved the creature, at least twice my size, ten feet away. When it finally toppled over, one of my comrades finished it off for me with a kick of his boot and a whack from his bat.

  I couldn’t remember my savior’s name, but he was wearing a long trench coat covered in mud and grime. He held up his bat and grinned from ear to ear. “Nothin’ smashes a skull like a Louisville Slugger.”

  “True,” one of the guys said, “until the flimsy thing cracks.” He held up a wrench proudly. “This is much better.”

  “Great job, you guys,” I said, laughing at their banter.

  Ned came over and clapped my shoulder. “I think we got ‘em all.”

  I tried to catch my breath. “We hit hard,” I said between gasps. “That’s how it’s done!”

  “You’re a natural-born zombie slayer, kid,” he said, “just like your brother.”

  “Thanks.” The compliment meant a lot to me, more than he’d ever know. Wiping slime and gore off my face, I walked over the fence and shook it.

  Z clapped his hands. “Bravo!”

  “Are you happy now? I’m tired of these games. Now let us go!”

  “Like I said, I’m a man of my word,” he said, unlocking the door in the fence.

  Catching my breath, I walked out of Hell as Z’s minions all pointed guns at us.

  “Everyone can leave but Dean,” Z said, “unless I can kill Claire in his stead.”

  “What!? You know I won’t leave without her,” I said.

  “None of us will,” Jared assured me. “We all go,” he said to Z, “every single one of us.”

  I shook my head. “Take me to Claire. Where is she?”

  “She’s just...chilling.”

  “And what does that mean exactly?”

  “She’s having fun out back, at the swimming pool.”