The Undead World (Book 6): The Apocalypse Exile (War of The Undead) (35 page)

It was the only library Jillybean had ever seen with armed guards in front. There were more of the shining armor-wearing guards inside. And further on was an open area where a dozen men sat around a great fancy desk of glossed wood. All the men wore the shining armor and all had long beards. Rather like very tall dwarves they were to Jillybean. They were eating and drinking and talking, seemingly all at once.

When one of them saw the three approach, he cleared his throat and the rest fell silent. The largest of the men, a veritable giant in Jillybean’s eyes, stood and gazed down at the little girl.

“This is she?” the man asked, glancing to his right where Duke Menis was seated with his bandaged foot propped up.

The Duke said only a single word: “Yep.”

“Well then, come in Jillybean,” the man said, gesturing her forward. “I am King Augustus. My brother here tells me that you are some sort of genius of destruction. He says that you are a veritable goddess of chaos trapped in a little girl’s body.”

There was a pause and Jillybean, who had forgotten that she was supposed to be acting ‘nutty’, answered: “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you have a unique ability when it comes to causing ruin. Let me see if I have this right. You were the one who sank the two ferry boats in New York, in spite of the fact that they were being guarded by fifty men?”

Eve was growing gleeful inside of her. Jillybean tried to ignore her as she fidgeted and answered in a small voice: “Yes, Mister King, Sir.”

“And you destroyed New Eden with an army of zombies?” She nodded and he grinned. “And you blew up the River King’s bridge after escaping from a jail cell, again under the eyes of the guards?” She shrugged and nodded, feeling the weight of the accusations pile on her thin shoulders. “And then you blew his barge sky high and then held his backup bridge hostage?”

“Yes. Mister King, Sir, but not all of that was my fault. Those people were being bad.”

“That’s not the question here,” the King said. “The question is if you did all that, and how?”

Jillybean couldn’t lift her eyes from the floor. She nodded a small nod, saying: “I know about bombs and such, at least, a little.”

Kay stepped forward quickly and put an arm around Jillybean’s shoulders. “She knows more than she’s letting on! I would say she is worth a thousand of your men, but only I can control her, so if you want to use her, you need me.”

The king moved around the table and stood, towering over Jillybean, who felt she had all the strength of daisy stem compared to him. Eve, inside her, stated to dance and sing:
He gonna eat you, Jillybean. He gonna eat you right up, Jillybean
.

“Is this true?” he asked Jillybean.

Jillybean was just remembering her promise to Kay. She cheeped like a chick again, but she did so with fear-filled eyes.

Next to them Brad shook his head. “It’s a bold lie, your highness. The girl is definitely bonkers. She’s got a split personality is my guess. Her other ‘face’ you might call it, hates everyone and everything. She’d help you without an issue. She loves the idea of killing. However, this Jillybean is more of a goody-two-shoes.”

“So she really can’t be controlled by this woman?” the King asked, gesturing at Kay.

“Oh, no, your Highness. Kay
can
control Jillybean, watch.” Without warning, Brad grabbed Kay by the back of the hair and threw her down on the tiled floor. He then slapped her hard across the face so that Kay’s chin went skyward and her eyes crossed.

Jillybean was frozen in shock at the sudden violence in front of her and, even as she stood there slack-jawed, Eve started taking control—first her fingers went numb, then her toes.

“Look at me, Jillybean,” Brad demanded. “You are going to do what I tell you or Kay gets another slap. Is that clear?” Jillybean nodded. Brad looked to the King. “What would you like her to do?”

King Augustus grinned appreciatively and said: “Nothing for now, Brad. Let’s hold her in reserve, just in case.”

Duke Menis tapped one of his crutches on the table. “Don’t waste such a gift. Keep her nearby—of course keep her chained, she a dangerous one, but keep her nearby. She’s very insightful as I have explained.”

“Sound advice,” the King said, walking back around the table and seating himself in the place of honor.

Eve was dancing and singing all the more. Jillybean had to stop her before she got out of control. Whatever these people were planning Eve would only make it worse. She was gasoline to their fire. “Whatever you want from me, I won’t do it,” Jillybean said, gritting her teeth. “I’m not afraid of you. None of you.” Though the men chuckled, Eve quit her dancing...only she knew that Jillybean wasn’t lying.

“Oh, you may not be afraid, but Kay here is really, really afraid,” the Duke said. “When you hear her scream you’ll do what we want.”

“And what is that?” Jillybean asked, her voice surly and her eyes hard. Jillybean was willing to risk a beating if only to stop Eve.

The King’s eyes narrowed at her impolite manner but he answered her regardless. “Quite simply, you’ll help us destroy the people of Colorado. They sit astride the only route to the west. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to start a war and my brother and his foolish desire for a woman has given me just that excuse. All of this... all of your running around the country making an uproar, has turned almost everyone against you and by extension the people of Colorado. I’ll have my war in large part thanks to you.”

“And you plan on using this girl?” one of the bearded men asked. “We have four thousand men and half a million stiffs. What do we need her for?”

The King grinned like a wolf. “I am sure we don’t, brother. I am more than confident that we have the power to destroy our enemies, however,” he paused and smiled fondly at Jillybean. “It’s nice to know that I have this little monster on my side.”

Jillybean shook her head. “I’m not a monster, you are! I’ll never be on your side,” she hissed. She was a sight to see: this tiny thing with her fists balled and her face splotchy red.

“Really?” the King asked. “Brad, a demonstration if you please.”

The little girl pursed her lips, steeling herself for the blow she was sure to come, but Brad turned to Kay and beat her with his closed fists. Kay wailed and screamed in hysterics and begged Jillybean over and over again to do what the King wanted. When Kay’s blood was scattered on the tile like rain drops, and her voice became hoarse and her face was battered and ugly, it became too much for the little girl. Jillybean leapt at Brad with her hands clasped and begged: “Please stop. I’ll do whatever you want.”

The girl walked among the fields of the valley, running her fingers over the golden tips of wheat. She then went to where the barley was laid out in perfect rows and breathed in deeply.

Her heart was calm for once.

Sadie had been on the move for so long that the last week of doing absolutely nothing was the very healing she had needed. She had seen too much death, and felt too much pain, so that when they had first come into the valley and the others had danced around in a great big circle hugging each other and crying, Sadie only shook her head and looked around at the surrounding mountains, wondering where the next vile enemy would come from.

She hadn’t joined any celebration, nor had she feasted with the General or bothered to meet this officer or that lady. She had slept little, waking constantly to go look out at the heavily mountainous horizon, picturing in her mind, where the next battle would take place. And when she looked into the stern but handsome faces of the soldiers, she did so searchingly, looking to see if one of them was the next villain they would have to fight.

Only gradually had sleep come to her that week and only gradually had she felt a return to normal. She fought it every step of the way because she was convinced that the people of the valley were only living the dream before the nightmare. In her mind, she felt that here was no way this land of peace could last.

Captain Grey had walked her around the battlements, to show her that their walls were tall and strong. There were only three ways into the valley and each was narrow and easily guarded by walls of cement, rolls of concertina wire, deep moats, and men with heavy weapons. Grey pointed out the sniper positions in the rear and the machine gun nests on the concrete walls.

He showed her the artillery and mortars and he could’ve shown her a nuclear bomb for all the difference it made to her. So far, no wall and no force had ever been enough. The renegades weren’t just unlucky or jinxed, they were damned.

But slowly, the serenity of the mountain valley with its picturesque views, its abundant game and large crops had worked its magic on her. Ever so gradually, she felt herself relax. There she was breathing and feeling once again, and only the day before Neil had introduced her to a boy her own age and she hadn’t glared at him while keeping her hand on the butt of her Glock.

The other renegades were fitting in and adapting nicely. Fred Trigg was already starting an opposition party to General Johnston. The General was a very friendly and fatherly man who wore his afro buzzed a quarter inch off his scalp; its edges were so perfectly angled that Sadie was sure that a ruler had to be used in the clipping of it.

Due to his seniority, Grey found himself in command of an infantry company. He threw himself into the job and soon his barking voice was ringing throughout the valley as he drilled his men, mercilessly.

Deanna had bloomed like a flower and had to beat the men away with sticks, though when it was found out that Captain Grey had his eye on her, everyone gave way. This same blooming seemed to have occurred among the other women, as well. No one asked about their experiences before coming to the Estes valley. It was considered rude.

Other than Sadie, Neil was the last to allow himself a moment of peace. For the first five days, he had accompanied his apocalypse daughter to the barriers that were set up a few miles outside of the valley at the narrowest points. He would look east in silence and then take Sadie’s hand and walk back without saying a word.

The day before, when she had come to collect him for their daily inspection, Neil had said: “I don’t think I’ll go today. I’m good.”

Now, there in the warm afternoon sun, it was Sadie’s turn to say: “I’m good.”

She laughed suddenly, but stopped just as quick, as something caught her eye. Instinctively, she went into a crouch, the steel-like muscles of her legs bunched, ready to dash. There was a crow hopping around in the cornfield thirty yards away. Less like a gazelle and more like a cheetah, Sadie suddenly burst into speed, racing as fast as she could straight at the crow.

Just in time, the black bird looked up from its feast and leapt away, jawing at the sprinting girl in strident tones as it flew away. “You better run!” she cried, as she switched gears, gradually slowing her pace and watching the crow glide away. With interest, and with a touch of sick premonition, she watched the crow fly further and further away.

It flew away to the east where there were quite a few little dashes in the sky. Alarmed and not understanding why, Sadie began running along the curving road that headed down to the barricades. As she ran, the little dashes grew bigger and bigger until she saw that they were crows, hundreds of them, wheeling in a cloud.

Using the pull of gravity, Sadie covered the two miles in the time it normally took to cover one. She ran right up the wall and without asking, started climbing one of the ladders leaning against it.

“What the hell are you doing?” one of the soldiers asked. He seemed amused at Sadie’s antics. Every day he had been on guard when she had come down and every day he had stared at her unabashedly. She had noticed but pretended she hadn’t.

“You better ring your alarm,” Sadie said, climbing down the other side. “Call your re-enforcements, or whatever you have to do to get more men down here right now!” She pointed at the crows; there were so many that they formed an ominous cloud.

She ran down the road, coasting now, not wanting to burn out her legs, knowing she’d have to run back when her fears were confirmed. In minutes, they were. She rounded one of the many bends in the winding road and saw below her a nightmare come true. A titanic horde of zombies was pushing up the narrow road.

From where she stood, huffing air in great gasps, she guessed there were five thousand of them, and those were only the ones in sight. There was no telling how far back they stretched.

As she stood there with dread curdling her stomach, the guard came rushing up. In one hand he held an M4, in the other a radio. “Oh, God!” he said, between breaths.

“Call your General,” Sadie told him. “Tell him that war has come to his gates.”

The End

Author’s note:

Before you ask, yes, the final book in the
Undead World
series is even now being written.

I certainly hope you have been enjoying The
Undead World
series as much as I have enjoyed writing it. If so, would you please leave a review of it on Amazon and perhaps a mention on your Facebook page? Reviews are the single best way to help an independent author.

I have written a second zombie-apocalypse series: The Apocalypse Crusade. It is a gradual descent into hell as seen from the eyes of a number of great, new characters: Dr. Lee, beautiful and brainy, she is the lead scientist hoping to cure cancer. Ryan Deckard, chief of security who he has his hands full, first with sabotage and then with a whole mess of zombies. Lieutenant Eng: a Chinese scientist/spy who is willing to kill an entire country to get his name on the cure for cancer. Chuck Singleton who lets love ruin his chance at getting the miracle cure and misses out on becoming the next man-eating creature. LT Pemberton of the NY State Troopers who sacrifices his men in a last ditch effort to contain the creatures.

I bet you’re thinking that it sounds like a whole lot of fun and you’d be right!

But if you’ve read it already(and loved it, of course) may I suggest
The Trilogy of The Void

The first book in the series,
The Horror of the Shade
was inspired by one of the paranormal events with which I’ve been connected with. Quite simply, it was a two-second ghost sighting, witnessed by me and two of my brothers. So, how is that extrapolated into a trilogy? Step one: Remove me and my two brothers. Step two: Change the ghost to a demon, add a hot, but diabolical witch. Throw in a hunky seventeen-year old and his hell-powered schizophrenic sister and you’re in business. Oh, I forgot to mention there will also be: Gypsies, exorcisms, blood, bullets, a nice sprinkling of sex, sin, murder, and a couple of trips into the wonderful vacation spot known as Hell...and did I mention sex? Right, check that off the list. Step three: Churn these all up into non-stop action, until you realize what you have is a family in dire peril. What is this story about? What every story is about: people. People in love, people in danger, people fighting for their very souls.

Here is a free chapter to get you in the mood:

Chapter 1

The Row-Adrina

June 15, 1959

1

When Adrina woke that morning with sweat chilling her pillow and her heart making sporadic, spastic thumps in her chest, she knew it would be bad. Even before she sat up the anxiety was on her. It seemed almost as if a cloud of fear hung in the air making it difficult for her to find her breath.

She puttered around the kitchen of her small apartment, waiting for
it
to happen. There was nothing else for her to do but wait. What would happen, would happen. There was no avoiding it. And she wouldn’t even try. If she did, it would only make things worse.

Her growing anxiety made her feel she had to pee frequently, and she found herself sitting on the toilet for half the morning, staring blankly at the tile pattern of the floor. It was all very neat and straight.

Adrina called in sick to work. She was on the cleaning staff for a swanky New York hotel and knew she’d be useless that day. It was better if she were alone, fewer people would get hurt.

“You know that won’t matter a bit!” she scolded herself. No, it wouldn’t matter, but she knew this wasn’t about the hotel, or any of the service staff she worked with. This was far more personal.

With her nails long bitten down to nubs, she began to pace. To the window, to the door, to the bathroom. With each trip to the window, she would peek out hesitantly, afraid of what she might see. Always the same dull view.

On one of her many trips to the bathroom, she gazed for some time at the tired, scared face in the mirror. She had been pretty once, but that had been many years before, and at 68, her black hair had long been replaced by grey. Now that was being replaced too, and a smattering of white hairs stood out from the rest. Looking at them, a sigh that was almost a death rattle escaped her—she didn’t notice.

With each trip to the door, she walked almost tiptoe across the carpet, listening for any sound in the hall. She thought about scooting a chair over to the door, so she could look out through the peephole, but she knew she would look ridiculous. In her youth she stood five feet tall, but she had been shrinking steadily for twenty years and the peephole was all but useless to her now.

The day dragged on, and it was not until after dinner that
it
finally came. There was a loud knock on the door and Adrina clutched her hands to her scrawny chest; she wasn’t expecting anyone. Except that she was. In her heart, she knew that hiding in her apartment wouldn’t stop what had to happen. She was about to open the door and there’d be someone standing there and she would
know
. She would know something that she couldn’t possibly know.

Today it would be about death, there was no question. Maybe one terrible death, maybe more, perhaps a lot more. It had always been this way when she was this keyed up. Someone was going to die.

“Let it be me, let it be me,” she repeated to herself as she walked down the little hall. Adrina thought she was ready for death however, in this she was terribly wrong. She paused at the door, afraid of what was to come, but the sound of another, more insistent knock, made her face her fears and turn the knob.

“Hello, Mother.” Adrina’s son Tomas stood in the doorway. He looked terrible; never in her life had she seen someone with eyes so bloodshot. He had great dark circles under them that were swollen and puffy. Clearly he had not slept in a long time, and the dark circles made his sallow skin appear sickly yellow. His normally neat black hair stood out uncombed and his face was unshaven...

Facing away from Adrina, Tomas knelt on the hardwood floor of a barren room. It was a room she had never seen before. The wood flooring was glossy and looked polished, and was spotless, without a trace of dirt or dust. Adrina stood behind her kneeling son, holding a heavy, heavy gun in her right hand. It felt like she must have just pulled it out of a freezer; it was almost painfully cold. Her vision focused on the back of Tomas’ head; his hair was just beginning to show a few grey hairs.

Emotionless she nudged the barrel up against his head and pulled the trigger. It was loud and a spike of pain shot through both ears, she didn’t care—she seemed beyond caring. The bullet blasted out of her son’s face, spraying the room with blood and gore. About the edges, her vision clouded and tunneled, so that only when he toppled over onto a girl, did Adrina realize the walls were a harsh stark white.

Tomas’ blood stood out brightly against the white. It trickled down...down, slowly down. Adrina’s eyes followed the blood until it slid to the flooring where it gathered with more blood in a pool. Tomas sprawled face down over the body of a girl who was pale as death. His blood pooled around her and steam rose from it.

...”Hello, Tomas,” her voice was a hollow whisper. The nervousness was gone and in its place was only stunned disbelief.