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Authors: Amy Miles

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Zombie High Chronicles (Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Zombie High Chronicles (Book 1)
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“Meaning?” Tyrel folds his hands in front of him on top of the table, making him look every bit the part of a well-groomed senator’s son.

The only other thing I know about him is that he is from Georgia too and was turned away from the same camp I had been, despite his upbringing. I guess when the world gets sucked down the crapper it no longer matters how special you once were.

“Meaning that these soldier boys aren’t telling us everything.”  I pop a piece of the turnover in my mouth and grit my teeth against the heat that swells around my tongue. Grabbing my water bottle I down half of it before the burning eases.  

Everyone waits in silence as I chew. I roll my eyes and lean in, not because I want to be a part of this conspiracy group but because I don't want any more stragglers adding to its ranks. “Look, all I know is there is a hell of a lot of questions and we’ve been given zero answers. Maybe the government really doesn’t know how it all began. I’m no conspiracy theorist but I’d put my money on us as being dirty. We don’t exactly have a great track record.  And maybe we aren’t being told anything because there really is no one left to figure it out. I hear rumors the rest of the country has gone dark. Who’s to say the rumors aren’t true? Maybe there won’t be a cure. And maybe those things out there aren’t done changing.”

“But there has to be someone,” Embers says with a voice soft enough for me to feel confident no one else has overheard her. “What about your Dad? Isn’t he helping figure this out?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Because it’s top secret?” Tyrel asks.

I turn to look at him. “No, because he’s a jackass and I could care less.”

Tyrel blinks. I’m not sure that he’s ever known what it feels like to not worship your dad. Unlike his dad, my father did great, yet terrible things. Most of his work was classified of course. The military doesn’t take kindly to letting their little pet doctors run off at the mouth about creating chemical warfare, but I knew. My dad should have known that I was better at picking locks than he ever gave me credit for.

He may have been a real dick when I was growing up, but the one good thing I can say about him is that he placed enough skilled men in my life to teach me how to take care of myself.

“I know only what I see,” I say and look away from Tyrel. “Never believe what you’re told because you can bank on the fact that it’s only a partial truth. Especially when it’s coming from an adult. They don’t think we can handle the truth. Screw that. How as we supposed to survive without it?”

“So you’re saying you think there’s a genuine threat out there?”

I have to restrain myself from laughing in Tyrel’s face. “Of course, there is. You don’t think those AK-47’s out there are water guns, do you? Maybe it will be raiders that get us first. Maybe something else. Either way, we are on our own.”

“They brought us here for a reason, didn’t they? How can you be so sure that they are out to get us?” Vaughn eyes up my partially eaten MRE but I push it against from him, just in case he decides to unwisely make a dive for it.

Holding up one hand, I begin to count my fingers. “First off because they are military and that means they inherently lie for the good of the many. Haven’t you ever watched a post-apocalyptic movie before? It doesn’t end well for the little guys, aka us. Secondly, they refuse to tell us what the other two vials of blood are for that they take each day. I know enough to know that you can get a lot of stuff from a single vial so where is the extra going?

Thirdly you all must have noticed the spur of the moment improvements to fortify this building. I don’t know about all of you but I had a cute little ammunitions gift under my sit this morning. Surely you must have noticed the additional supply runs the soldiers have been doing all week, not to mention the new hardware on the windows and the Do Not Enter signs on the storage room. I had a little look during class and found an arsenal. Do you really think all of this is being done just as a “what if?”  These guys run a war like playing chess. The pawns go first while the big boys hunker down and protect their king. We are sitting directly above that bunker.”

“So you’re saying that they have some sort of secret lab sitting directly beneath us?” Flynn asks, lifting his head to glance all around, but Ember and Tyrel never look away.

“It’s not a lab. It’s a fallout bunker or rather a last resort.”

Vaughn scrunches up his nose. “So you’re saying it’s like a bomb shelter.”

“No.”  I lean forward and stare him down. “It’s a zombie shelter.”

Ember rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. Now you’re overreacting like Coleman. Did you too hook up in some online gaming room prior to the outbreak because you two are spinning the same wild tales.”

“Am I?” I turn to look over my shoulder at the twitchy kid who is currently bargaining chore duty for an extra two bites of Paislee’s turnover. The dude may be desperate for a sugar fix but at least he’s onto something.  “Then maybe you should listen.

I stand up and shove my chair back. “Or don’t. It’s no skin off my back.”

“Wait!” Ember grabs onto my hand. I clench into a fist but don’t pull back. “You can’t just leave like that.”

“Why?” I grin down at her. “You going to miss me?”

“Hardly.”

Vaughn snickers but instantly straightens when I glare at him.

“Any other reasons,” she presses.

With a heavy sigh, I sink back into my seat. To walk out now would only mean that I’d be followed by an entourage and there’s no way people wouldn’t take notice of that.

“There have been two extractions this week alone and it’s only Tuesday. Last week there were three homes vacated. The week before that was two. Doesn’t that seem like a fairly high failure rate considering how closely monitored we all are?”

I can see several of them nodding in agreement.

“There is another option…”

All eyes turn back toward me. I hadn’t actually meant to reveal my thoughts but if I’m escaping tonight with my mom I might as well do a good dead and warn these people.  

“A couple of you may have suspected that I like to take walks.”

“No shit,” Vaughn coughs into his hand in a poor attempt to conceal his comment.

I ignore him as I continue. “You are all right. I do see things. Things that I’m sure we aren’t meant to know. Why else would there be a need for the curfew? It’s bullshit and they know it.”

“Now that I agree with. Flynn, haven’t I been saying that same thing—”

“Shut up, Vaughn,” Ember hisses and slams her foot down on his. Vaughn’s eyes bulge but to his credit, he manages to hold in his cry of pain.

“As I was saying,” I pause to glare at Vaughn just in case he gets any stupid ideas about interrupting me again, “is that I have seen some strange things going on. I don’t think these extractions are totally legit.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Tyrel asks.

“Meaning I think those Raider sightings that we’ve been told about are a bunch of bunk. I think the soldiers are carting own people out into the streets and slaughtering them in cold blood.”

“No. No way, man,” Flynn shakes his head and pushes back from the table. “They wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t they?”  I finish the last bite of my turnover and crumple up the wrapper. “Then tell me why we haven’t seen a single raider since we arrived. Tell me where the bodies are going because they sure aren’t burning them in the town square. And how do we even know these people are technically infected at all?  What if it’s all a ruse? What if these people are being used for something else?”

“Like what?” Ember whispers and I get another whiff of vanilla when she leans forward.  

“I don’t know.  Maybe that’s something you should think about, but let’s plays devil’s advocate for a moment. If this outbreak, or whatever it is, is in fact airborne like they claim, we should have all contracted it by now right? And if not, why aren’t we all wearing gas masks? Why only the soldiers?”

“Because we are expendable,” a voice adds from behind us and I look up to see Coleman standing over my shoulder. He has his hands deep in his pockets and his glasses falling down his nose as he walks around me to take the spare seat beside Tyrel. “It’s the basics of any good game. You protect those most valuable to you and let the rest be a distraction.”

“Wait a second,” Vaughn says, breaking his silence as he licks the last traces of gravy from his lips. “Are you saying that we are expendable?”

When I laugh I didn’t bother to hide the bitterness from my voice. “We have been that from day one. Why do you think we are even here, using resources that they should be using on their soldiers to fight the coming war, and trust me when I say a war is coming. What we saw out there by the fence today isn't going to be a single occurrence. What happens when more of them start to wake up? What happens if they start to get violent”

“What if they start to work together against us?” Ember says, her gaze too unfocused to notice my appraising look. I like the way she thinks.

“Exactly,” I chime back in. “You’ve all seen the movies and read the books. Those things out there, the Stiffs or Dead Heads...they aren’t done evolving. What happens if the zombies we all thought we’d someday have to face do finally show up?”

“Dude,” Vaughn blows out a breath and run his hands through his fine hair. In the fluorescent lighting overhead, powered by a military grade generator, he looks sickly. “I’m so not ok with something deciding to gnaw on me like a deep fried chicken leg.”

That is all it takes to break the tension and send a ripple of chuckles through the group. The laughter may be strained but it feels much better than the somber mood we created moments ago.

“All I’m saying,” I say as I grab my MRE trash and stand, needing to get away and decompress from the sudden onslaught of togetherness, “is to keep your eyes open. Things aren’t what they seem and I, for one, am not going down without a fight.”

4

 

I can’t unsee that!

 

As midnight approaches, I toss back my covers and ease my feet over the edge of the bed and straight into a pair of unlaced combat boots. I sacrifice precious seconds of light from my iPod in order to see to get dressed. All hopes of going to bed dressed to maximize my time went out the window when Sammy decided to plop down onto his bunk and tell me all about his day.

Good Lord that boy can ramble on.

I almost feel sorry for the kid. If he weren’t so thoroughly annoying he’d be like a little brother to me, but this only child is quite content to stay that way.

The bed creaks when I bend over to tie my shoes, but Sammy just snores on, rolling over to clutch his pillow between his arms like a teddy bear. That thought makes me pause as I wonder about Short Stack. I looked over at the lower grade school several times during the day and wished that I could at least say goodbye to the kid.

I knew he was scared and alone. I couldn’t take him with him, but a part of me kinda wished that I could.

Rising slowly to shrug into my camo jacket and matching hat, I pull it down low over my eyes before heading for the windows. If anyone were to spot me walking the streets tonight I will hopefully blend in with the other soldiers, apart from being weaponless. I have yet to procure one of those but it is high on my to-do list for the night.

Thanks to a bit of pre-planning, I left the window unlocked and slightly cracked before curfew kicked in, a fact that my group mother should have noticed but when she came to lock me down for the night I charmed her with praises on her cooking as a distraction. To be fair, she did manage to whip up something resembling food and it tasted far better than our MRE lunches at school. Besides, it would probably be my last home cooked meal in a very long time.

To say that I like my group home parents, Emily and Rod Philbeck, is a stretch of the truth. It is more like I manage to tolerate them. They treat me like an adult most days and I stayed out of their hair. It has been a decent arrangement.

Sliding the window up just high enough for me to slip through, I quickly lower it before the chill wakes Sammy. I’ve done this enough times to know which shingles are loose and which sections of the sloping roof are soft from years of rain damage as I hurry along. Once I reach the edge, I peer out from under the bill of my hat and see figures moving in the dark beyond the fences.

In the light of day I have a pretty decent view from up here since the perimeter fences are only a couple of blocks away, which also pretty much lands me in the “shit out of luck” quadrant if those bastards ever do decide to get snacky.

Gripping the metal guttering that runs down the side of the house, which I nearly killed myself on the first time I tried to plunge to my death and was forced to commandeer spare bolts and screws to fortify it before attempting the feat again, I monkey climb to the ground. My boots sink into the moist ground when I land and I know that I’m leaving tracks, but I don’t have time to linger. I have been worried all evening that the torrential rains that came through during late afternoon would ruin my plans to locate my mom but they passed through while I was stuck on dish duty after dinner. The sky still looks ominous in the distance and another downpour could unleash at any moment so I will have to move fast.

Sticking to the shadows, I hurry along the side of the house, weaving around the shrubbery and pause to poke my head out. From down the street, I can see the sweeping floodlight of a patrol truck as it inches along but it isn’t aimed at the houses, but instead outward toward the fence. Several armed soldiers fan out from the truck, spanning the street as they move between the houses.

“I really don’t want to know what they are hunting for,” I mutter and turn to head toward the back fence before they reach me and slam right into Flynn’s chest. The guy is surprisingly firm for having such a lean frame.

“Damn, man,” he gasps and clutches his right arm when I punch him as soon as I regain my footing.

“That’s for scaring the shit out of me.” I punch him again, giving him a second dead arm. “And that’s for being nosy. What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Going with you, of course.”

“No. Not going to happen.”  I shove him aside only to find Vaughn standing right behind him. “Oh, come on! I’m not a babysitter or a tour guide.”

“But we want to help.”

Zipping up my jacket, I shake my head. “You don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“Getting answers, just like we are.”  Vaughn at least had the forethought to wear black, instead of his usual boisterous colors. The guy had style but it wasn’t one suitable for reconnaissance.  

I take a second to think it over and size them up. Vaughn doesn’t look quite as dead set on the idea of helping me as Flynn is but I know, without taking a step away from them, that they will follow me, and most likely earn themselves two seats in the brig next to me when they get caught trailing me.

With a heavy sigh, I rub the back of my neck. “Fine, but keep your head down and run when I tell you. If you get your sorry butts caught that’s on you.”

Flynn nods. “Deal.”

“So,” Vaughn looked around. “Where to?”

“Quadrant 5.”

Both of them share a loaded look, knowing as well as I do that this section of the Zone is heavily guarded, but they have the decency to keep their mouths shut for once. I don’t stick around to see if they are going to change their minds. My window of opportunity was small and I’m going to waste time on pandering to them. Either they keep up with my pace or go home where they belong.

Ducking low so that I’m not seen above the fence line, I span the length of the side yard and flip over an old rusted metal trash can. It has a few dents from my previous excursions over the fence. By the time the other two land behind me I’m already across the street and crouched behind an SUV.

This street is dimly lit. The need for lights further into the Safe Zone isn’t nearly as important as the perimeter streets to that will make our passage a bit harder, but also easier to avoid detections. It’s sort of a double-edged sword and I’m afraid one of these two bozos are going to throw me on it at any minute.

It takes nearly thirty minutes to maneuver our way undetected toward the apartment building where I suspect my mom, along with the other nurses, are being housed. By the time I hold up my hand to signal for Flynn and Vaughn to halt, Vaughn is wheezing like an asthmatic and Flynn has to cup a hand over his friend’s mouth when a patrol truck rolls by.

“Now what?” Flynn hisses as we watch the patrol truck brake and shine a floodlight on a path up ahead. It lingers for several moments before rolling on.

“For what?”  Vaughn holds his side as he doubles over.

“For you to stop panting like a dog in heat.”  

I’m pretty sure he wants to stick his tongue out at me for my snide comment but he is too focused on sucking in air to manage it. I grin a little at his suffering and take a moment to really get my bearings.

I glance around, trying to get a feel for the layout.  We are on the southern side and directly across from the bus route that should bring my mother straight to her door if she had the night shift. If not...well I don’t want to have to risk going door to door. “Now we wait.”

If this were a true military base I would already know the patrol routes, barracks locations and shift changes in this specific quadrant but searching 5 square miles by foot while dodging patrols has proven to be more of a challenge than I would like to admit.

As it is, things around here seem to run like clockwork at completely random times over the past few days.  That alone tells me that I am dealing with newbie soldiers fresh out of boot camp or worse who had not been properly trained at all but rather brought on duty out of pure necessity. Whoever is in charge of this place is obviously too preoccupied to get his soldiers back in line and that means I am right. Something big is going down and I wanted to split before that tidal wave comes crashing to shore.

The apartment building looming ahead of us is brightly lit along the front. Several of the windows still show light streaming through closed curtains. I stare at each one intently, wondering which one is my mom’s. She has always been a night owl, suffering from insomnia brought on by the onslaught of the crap that she has had to hear about in her daily job. People are messed up and she was charged with the challenge of trying to fix them.

If it had been me, I’d have just told them to man up and kick them back out of the door, but my mom cared. She’d always had a big heart. She loved people and felt compassion for anyone who was hurting. Maybe that’s why she never gave up on me. What my dad saw as a lost cause to her was just potential waiting to be discovered.

Movement in a third-floor window catches my eye and I hurry forward to duck low behind the wheel of a parked Humvee. I motion for Vaughn and Flynn to stay low when they join me as I shift around them and belly crawl under the truck. Placing a hand on the undercarriage I realize that it is still warm.

The apartment door opens and closes behind a haggard looking blond in her mid-forties. I watched as she leans over a railing and takes a long drag on a cigarette. Her hair is a mess and she still has blood staining her neck. She must be one of the triage nurses that work on the soldiers when they are wounded during supply runs to be wearing that much blood.

At least I know that I am in the right place.

I settle in and resume my surveillance, wishing that I’d had better luck at scavenging for a pair of night vision. That would have made this stake out so much easier.

Over the next half hour the only thing that moves, apart from the chain smoker who systematically goes through nearly a whole pack of rationed cigarettes before heading back indoors, is Vaughn, who performs an annoying dance when he has to pee.

“You’re a guy. Just go in the bushes,” I hiss back over my shoulder.

As Vaughn hurries away, Flynn inches up close to me and presses his chest low to the ground to get under the drive shaft. “See anything?”

“No. Nothing.”  I try to mask the disappointment in my voice but when I catch his sideways glance I knew that I have failed. “You two should head back. I might be here a while...”

Movements in the shadow that stretch along the side of the building force me to trail off into silence. Narrowing my eyes, I focus on the shape until it materializes in the light and I realized that it isn’t one person but two. A man, with his camo hat, tilted low pauses to steal a kiss from a woman he holds possessively under his arm.

I don’t need to see her face to know that it is my mom. When he bends her backward and buries his face in her neck, her long hair sways toward the ground and although it is mostly auburn, it is also streaked with a discernable white strip from root to end just over her right temple. As a boy, I liked to call her a skunk. I would know that lock of hair anywhere.

My jaw tightens as the guy’s hands move over the curve of my mom’s hip, unconcerned with the fact that despite the late hour they are still in public...and that it’s gross.

Flynn starts to snicker when the soldier ran his hand up under my mom’s shirt but cuts off the instant he takes in my thunderous expression. “Wait, is that your mom?”

My palms press so hard into the ground that loose asphalt begins to embed in my skin. “What the hell does she think she’s doing?”

“Looks to me like she’s getting some.” I turn and kick Vaughn realizing only too late he has returned. I feel only slightly vindicated at his cry of pain but the instant it leaves his lips, the couple before us pause and looked around.  

“Shit, go!” I begin a fast retreat, scraping my knees as I belly crawl out from under the truck. Of course, it would belong to the douchebag feeling up my mother.

Flynn yanks on my arm to keep me from making a move on the guy when he steals one last kiss from my mom. We barely make it to the safety of the bushes before we hear the groan of ungreased door hinges. The engine roars to life and then the Humvee pulls away, carrying that handsy bastard down the street.

I watch the taillights until they turn the corner, feeling anger swell up deep inside of me as I think about that man.  I don’t know who he is but I’d guess someone rather high up the food chain judging by the decor on his chest. I only barely got a glance at it as I was turning tail and running for cover.

When I glance back at my mom I feel the anger flush right out of me. She has sunk down to her knees with her hands pressed into the damp ground and her head hung low. I close my eyes at the sight of her sobbing and felt a stab of regret for having judged her so quickly. Of course, she would never go slumming like that. She had to have a good reason for it and I’m not buying that she was just lonely. She’s just not that sort of person.

“I don’t think she enjoyed that,” Vaughn whispers to Flynn but this time I don’t have to lash out at him because Flynn promptly shuts him up with an elbow jab to his gut.

“I need to talk to her,” I say, pushing to my feet. “She doesn’t do anything without a reason. What if she’s going along with his advances to pull information out of him? Or to protect me somehow?  Maybe she knows what’s going on?”

Flynn places his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “If that’s true then you need to let her. If you go out there and someone sees you then whatever she’s trying to do might fall apart.”

BOOK: Zombie High Chronicles (Book 1)
3.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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