Love & the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1, Zombie Apocalypse Trilogy) (6 page)

“Of course I don’t know him
.  Do you think I hang out with criminals because I don’t live on your side of town?  Look at the tattoo on his hand.”

The ma
n’s hands were in the air.  A star enclosed in a triangle was tattooed in the space between his thumb and finger.  It was the symbol of a small-time gang in the area.  How did Cage miss that?

The man swallowed.  “Okay, calm down. 
That’s an old tattoo.  I was in the slammer once for a breaking and entering, but I don’t do that anymore.  Okay?  I’m squeaky clean now and I hardly think my juvenile record matters.  My house was overrun by zombies.  Dude, zombies.”

“W
e were carjacked half an hour ago,” Rachel said.  “Do you think I’m going to let you take our gun?”

“
Honey, I don’t want your gun.  I swear.” 

“Don’t call me h
oney,” Rachel snapped.

The man
lowered his hands.  “Listen, we got off to a bad start.  I shouldn’t have run out like that.  I’m sorry.  Obviously, you’ve had a pretty bad night, too.  My name is Nicky Ayers.”

Rachel’s grip
on the gun relaxed.  Holding the gun outstretched had to be painful.  Blood had already soaked through the makeshift bandage on her arm. 

Nicky saw Rachel
relax.  “Good, good.  Cool.  I’m not a bad guy, I swear.”

“If you try t
o take the gun, I’ll shoot you,” Rachel said evenly.  “If you try to hurt us, I’ll shoot you.  Got it?”

“I get it.
” Nicky smiled at Cage.  “You have a tough woman -”

The
growl cut Nicky off mid-sentence.  Three zombies sprinted out from between two houses.  Blue eyes locked on them. “Time to go.” Cage backed up. 

“I’ll second that,” Nicky said.

“You’re not coming with us,” Rachel said. 

Despite what Rachel
said, the three of them took off down the street.  They crossed a lawn, down a driveway, over a chain length fence and into a shallow set of woods.  The three behind them were fast, but apparently zombies couldn’t climb fences.  After a few minutes, their growls blended into the wind. 

The
y weren’t exactly in a forest – only a patch of sparse trees full of summer leaves that divided the neighborhood from the sights of the city.  Now that they were out of the residential area, Cage heard the sounds of the streets – gunshots, sirens, screams - sounds of life and people fighting for it. 

Rachel
placed the gun in Cage’s hand.  She nodded at him out of breath and then walked through the trees, twirling the baseball bat in her good hand.

“
She’s like a warrior princess.”  Nicky had his hands on his knees, sucking in gulps of air.  “Or
Buffy the Vampire Slayer. 
One-hundred percent female badass.”

Cage ignored the comment, but
agreed with Nicky.  Rachel had nerves of steel. He suspected she had a hard life and had no other choice, but to be tough. 

“It should be right over
here,” Rachel called out from over her shoulder. 

“What?”  Nicky asked.  “There’s nothing through those trees
except the Wooden Barrel.”

“That’s where we’re headed,” Cage said.

“I just came from that way.” Nicky gasped for air.  He was sweating like a pig. 

“No one said you had to come with us,” Ra
chel said, but the sharpness in her tone was gone.

Nicky sho
ok his head.  “No, I mean I passed the Wooden Barrel on my way over here.  You don’t want to go there.  It’s overrun with zombies.”

Ra
chel took off through the trees.  Cage swore and chased after her.  Nicky followed, breathing too hard for the distance they covered.  They caught up with Rachel at the same time.  She stood motionless at the edge of the tree line. 

The Wooden Barrel was a
cross the baseball field.  It was a popular bar in Flint that was always crowded no matter the time of day. 

T
onight was no exception – if you counted zombies. 

Chapter Eight

“This isn’t happening,” Rachel whispered. 

P
arking lights illuminated the space around the bar like a spotlight.  Gene’s rusted green Jimmy was in its normal spot near the front door.  He always parked there so he wouldn’t have to walk far when he was wasted.  Rachel counted twenty-two zombies surrounding the building.

Nicky whistled.  “Those zombies must be killing for a drink.”  He laughed at his own joke. 

Her chest tightened.  They didn’t stand a chance of getting inside, but she
had
to get inside.  She had to save Morgan and she needed Gene’s keys to do so.

Rachel felt
Cage’s eyes on her.  She was scared to look at him; frightened that he’d tell her it was too dangerous.  Or that she was crazy and dumb and they needed a new plan.  She lifted her eyes, steeling herself for the disappointment. 

Cage’s
face was grim, but his eyes were hard.  “Most of the zombies are out front,” he said.  “We can make a run for the back door.  The three of us can probably take the few stragglers in back, but we’ll have to be quiet.”

Rachel
actually smiled.  Cage was going to help her get inside. 

Nicky
scratched his head.  “Are you two lovebirds crazy?  Why would you want to trap yourself inside?  That’s dumb.  Really, really royally stupid.”

Rachel
pointed.  “See that green Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”  Nicky said.

“The keys to that car are inside on my foster father.”

Cage nodded.  “We need that
car. Unless you have a better plan of how we can get a vehicle.”

“Nope.  Sold my ride
for a three day bender.”  Nicky sighed.  “My life is nothing but a series of bad decisions, including this one.”

“You don’t have to come with us,” Cage said.  “If you don’t want to.”

Nicky shook his head.  “No, I do.  There’s no way you kids are getting in without my help.  Can I have that stick?”

Cage
handed the mop stick to Nicky.

“Let’s go before I talk
myself out of this stupid ass idea.” Nicky trotted soundlessly over the baseball field. 

Nicky
had a few screws loose, but Rachel was grateful he was helping.  She felt bad at how she’d treated him, but she knew better than anyone about the pitfalls of trusting people too easily. 

Cage flipped
off the gun’s safety.  “Ready?”

“H
ere goes nothing.”

They’d made it to the pavilion in front of the baseball field undetected. 
A wire fence enclosed the area.  They crept beside it, hiding in the shadows.  They would have to cross two parking lots before they reached the back of the Wooden Barrel.  It wasn’t far, but it was a wide-open space with nothing to hide behind or use for shelter.  They would be one hundred percent exposed and the zombies near the bar would see them.

The enormous General Motor’s plant loomed
across the street.  How many times had Rachel been in this parking lot, picking up an obliterated Gene?  How many times had she gotten caught in factory traffic?  To see the city –
her city
– overrun by such death and destruction, made her want to scream from the top of her lungs. 

She squeezed
the handle of the baseball bat.  The pain from the dog bite sent shock waves down her arm.  Blood had soaked through Cage’s shirt bandage.  She needed to clean the wound.  Heck, she might even need a rabies shot.

“Are y
ou okay?”  Cage whispered.  “Does your arm hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Rachel said.

Nicky’s eyes widened.  “She’s bit?”

“By a dog,” Rachel said dryly.

Nicky made a face.  “Who gets bit by a dog when zombies are attacking?  How does that happen?”

Rachel opened her mouth, but de
cided against it.  “Are you ready?”

The boys nodde
d.  They sprinted over the pavement and into the parking lot.  Rachel’s legs burned as she tried to keep up with Cage’s athletic stride and Nicky’s long legs.  Seven zombies were behind the bar.  At least fifteen others were in front of the building.

T
hey reached the back of the bar.  Arms lunged from every angle.  Cage pistol-whipped a nurse zombie on the side of the head and knocked her to the ground.  Rachel swung the bat at a man that was missing most of his face.  Tissue and skin dangled from his cheeks. 

Nicky swung Cage’s mop stick
with reckless disregard.  It was the swing of a former athlete.  He was right – they needed his help.  And, if they survived, Rachel owed Nicky a giant apology.  She sprinted to the back door and yanked it open.  She almost cried out as the pain radiated through her injured arm. It was locked. 

Rachel pounded o
n the door.  She heard muffled noises from inside.  “Help us!  Let us in!  Please!”

Cage
looked over his shoulder.  “It’s locked?  You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Let us in!
  We’re about to be eaten alive!”  Nicky screamed. 

“Please!”  Rachel cried.  “Please, help us!”

The crowd of zombies formed a perfect semi-circle, backing them against the building.  They were trapped.  Cage relented and shot a girl zombie in the head.  She buckled at the knees and collapsed to the pavement.  The others trampled over her body as if she didn’t exist.

“We have a problem he
re.” Cage shot another zombie, but the bullet sailed over its shoulder.  The gunfire was attracting the zombies from the front of the bar.   

Rachel and Nicky
banged on the door.  The lock groaned and a pretty brunette poked her head out.  “Hurry, get inside!”

“Cage, come on!”

Cage shot another zombie before following Rachel and Nicky inside. The woman slammed the door shut as the zombies pounded on the door.  The woman fumbled with the lock until Nicky put his hands over hers and pushed the bolt through with a resounding click. 

“Be careful, there are
still some inside,” the lady said in a slight Russian accent. She wore a light green dress that matched her eyes. 

The
y were in the stock room.  The air conditioner blasted cold air on top of Rachel’s head.  They cautiously moved into the main room – toward the light and the sounds of fighting.  Rachel drew in her breath.  It was like a scene from a horror movie. 

E
ight zombies were in the front room.  Rachel counted three other humans fighting for their lives.  Two men fought four zombies in the corner by the dance floor.  Another woman, with long dark curly hair, battled a zombie behind the bar.  The pretty brunette who had let them inside rushed to help the woman. 

Tw
o zombies headed straight for Rachel.  Cage shoved the first zombie – a police officer - into the other.  Nicky picked up a barstool and smashed it into the zombies.  Rachel scanned the bar and that’s when she saw him.  There was no mistaken Gene Jones.  Her stomach dropped.  She walked around the bar and stepped over the broken barstools.

Gene’s face was shredded
almost beyond recognition.  A flap of skin hung from his jaw.  His eyes were zombie blue and held no ounce of humanity.  Blood and mush smeared across his face and shiny baldhead.  He snapped his jaws.  

Rachel
sunk the tip of the aluminum bat into his stomach and pushed him against the wall.  He rocked on his heels and stumbled backward.  The sight of Gene angered her.  It was as if everything that had happened over the last few hours was entirely his fault.  Of course, it wasn’t.  But Gene could hardly be considered an innocent bystander.  As terrible as it was, he’d gotten exactly what he deserved.  She thought about all of the horrible things he’d done to her.  How he’d beat her, stolen from her, put his hands on her.  How hard she fought to keep him away from Morgan. 

Morgan.

Rachel swung the bat at Gene’s head.  The aluminum cracked his skull on the first swing.  The vibrations from the blow shook down her arms and ignited a flame of pain over the dog bite.  Gene clawed at the air as he fell against the wall.

She
swung again. 

Rage filled her
.  Angry tears flooded her eyes and blurred her vision.  It didn’t matter; she could still make out Gene’s shape through the flood of tears.  She swung again.  He was on his back now – no longer moving - but all she could see was his face as it had been before.  Leering at her.  Snarling at her.

She swung again. 

Again.

Hands
grabbed her from behind. A zombie?  She didn’t care.  Let it bite her.  Let her slip out of this miserable existence.  Strong arms enveloped around her, forcing her to lower the bloody weapon. 

Cage g
ently tugged the bat from her hands and rotated Rachel around so she faced him.  He pulled her against his chest.  “It’s okay.  He’s dead.  He can’t hurt you anymore.”

~     ~     ~

Adam Guerra saw two things happen at exactly the same time and both things worried and pissed him off simultaneously.  One, Selena ran to the stock room to open the back door.  He’d heard the cries for help and had wanted to go himself, but he was tied up with the fighting out front. 

Nevertheless, Selena ha
d slipped away from Vivienne’s side and ran to help the strangers outside.  Her light green dress floated behind her as she disappeared down the hallway and out of sight.  There was no telling how many dead guys were out back and Adam didn’t want her to get overwhelmed at the door. 

Two, he saw
his friend Tony get bit while they were fighting in the center of the bar.  The zombie that Tony had knocked to the floor a few seconds before, swung around with surprising speed, and took a chunk out of Tony’s lower leg.

They were eating people
.

Renewed rage burst through him.  Adam had
already seen it happen.  His mother and best friend had been eaten alive by a horde of zombies in his own backyard, but it was still unbelievable, even as it happened in front of his own eyes. 

Adam knew it was the end of the road for his
friend.  Tony was a firefighter, too.  He had been at the station a long time before Adam’s first day on the job over five years ago.  The knowledge that his friend was going to turn into one of the walking dead made Adam swing the pipe harder.  The lead pipe caught the zombie under the chin and knocked it clear off its feet. 

Selena stumbled back into the room
unharmed.  She sprinted behind the bar to help her sister, Vivienne, who was holding her own in a fight with a zombie behind the bar.

T
hree new people – two teenagers, a boy and girl, and another boy in his early twenties -immediately jumped in to help.  If they were down to fight, then they were all right in Adam’s book. 

Adam
fired a shot at a zombie that had gotten too close.  He had to keep his mind from wandering.  He had to stay sharp.  One mistake and it would be all over for him and he had no intention of checking out early.

With the help of the newcomers, t
hey made quick work of the remaining zombies.  He tucked his pistol into his belt.  Tony was on the verge of collapsing.  The young man with shaggy hair helped Adam lift Tony onto the green velvet pool table. 

“Thanks,” Adam said.

“No problemo,” the young man said. 

“Selena, c
an you get a towel?” Adam asked.

Selena and V
ivienne returned with towels and a first aid kit.  Adam pressed the towel on Tony’s leg, careful not to touch his blood.  Adam glanced over his shoulder to see what Selena was staring at.

On the other side of the bar, t
he blonde teenager girl was making mincemeat out of a zombie who was clearly already dead (well, dead again).  The girl couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds, but she was swinging the hell out of the bat.  The zombie’s head looked like a split watermelon. 

The
teenage boy disarmed her.  She fell into his arms, sobbing hysterically.  Adam couldn’t read the situation.  The girl seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but who could blame her? “What’s with her?”  Adam asked the older boy with the shaggy hair. 

“Oh.  I think that’s her foster father.”

Selena covered her mouth. 

“I g
uess she didn’t like him too much.  By the way, my name’s Nicky Ayers.”  The young man turned to Selena.  “Thanks for saving our assess.”

Selena
lowered her hand from her mouth.  “You’re welcome.  I’m Selena Kudlova and this is my sister, Vivienne.  That’s Adam Guerra and Tony…Tony’s the one hurt.”  Selena folded another towel and handed it to Adam.  She kept glancing at the teen girl.

“Thanks,” Adam said.

“That man.”  Selena pointed to the zombie with the smashed in head.  “Was a very bad man.  He was a regular here.  If that was the girl’s foster father, then he probably deserved every blow.  Probably more.”