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Z-Boat (Book 2): Z-Topia Page 3
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“Guy, I’m scared.” She reached out for his hand.
“Shh, don’t be. I read somewhere women used to do this all the time on their own. I’m sure we can manage.”
Marianne screamed for another three hours, the rag in her mouth didn’t muffle the sound enough. Government workers would come for them and take their child, or worse. He ignored the fear taking hold of him and he told her to breathe and push. Other than a few people telling them to shut the hell up, no one offered to help.
When the baby came out Guy had a moment of panic. A slippery dark cord was attached to its stomach. Instinct told him to cut it, so he looked around for something sharp. A shard of broken glass lay in the corner and he left the baby on top of an exhausted Marianne as he went to retrieve it.
Seconds later the fleshy link was severed and he smiled down at his son. Marianne put her hand on their babies face and smiled. Guy watched her, her skin pale and a pool of blood continued to gather even though the birthing was over.
“What do you want to name him?” An attempt to keep her focused and with him.
“Justin, like my father.”
Guy smiled, then felt cold hands grip the back of his head. Marianne’s eyes widened in horror and Guy heard the crack as his neck broke. Tossed to the side like a limp dishrag he could do nothing but watch as the creature snatched up his son and ripped him apart, his wife begging for mercy.
He tried to move, to scream, but he felt nothing. Marianne used what energy she had left to try to fight the beast but failed as it leaned down and bit her. As it gnawed on a pudgy leg Guy felt something rise in his throat. Vomit filled his mouth, but he couldn’t move his head. He stared at the numbers tattooed on the thing’s neck: 784.
He choked and gagged, a second before he died he saw his wife stand and grab the discarded arm of their baby, Justin, and eat.
* * *
When Ally opened her eyes the bright light was gone. She tried to move but found herself in restraints. Forcing herself not to panic she glanced around the room and assessed the danger of the situation.
A young blonde woman in a grey shirt and thick dark pants stood to the side reading a display panel, a tall man with dark hair and weathered skin hovered beside her. Monitors beeped on her left and she turned to look at them, she was in some sort of medical facility.
“I see you’re awake.”
Ally looked at the man, unsure who he was, or more importantly who he worked for. The person who planted the bomb on the sub she used to call home knew who she was, which meant they knew about her past. If this were the case, why were they keeping her alive? She must have looked confused because the man spoke again.
“The restraints were for your own protection, you thrashed around a lot while you slept. I was worried you were going to hurt yourself, or rip open your injuries.”
Ally watched as the man undid the buckles on the thick nylon keeping her legs in place. He took a few steps up and smiled as he undid the ones on her wrist. He continued to talk to her as he worked.
“My name is Carl McGinty. I’m the doctor on board. We found you floating in a raft about a week ago. You were dehydrated, malnourished, delusional, had severe burns and welts from exposure. Not to mention a lot of cuts and bruises, some cracked ribs, and a rather nasty and infected gash on your shoulder.”
Ally raised her arms and stretched them out, it felt good to move. No wonder her body ached, she’d been immobile far too long. A lot could happen in a week.
“Do you remember what happened?”
Ally closed her eyes as she thought of Marcus, and the horrors she’d witnessed. No way would she share those things with the doctor, he’d have the restraints back on her in seconds.
“How about a name, do you have a name?”
“Ally, my name is Ally.”
These people, whoever they were, hadn’t put her in jail. They had tended to her wounds, taken care of her. As hard as she tried to look around for any indication as to what firm or government office controlled the sub she was on, she found nothing.
“Okay, Ally, it’s a start. How are you feeling? Any weakness? Are you nauseated?”
Carl poured her a glass of water and she panicked. Had they been giving her infected water all this time? The glass held a dirty brown substance and she sighed knowing it was safe.
She sat up as Carl helped her take a few sips. She choked a bit but was able to get some down. Her efforts left her breathing from the effort. Ally needed to get her ass back in shape, no time to waste, she’d already lost enough.
“Take it easy for now, you have a lot of Morphoid in your system.”
Ally needed to know what was going on. “Wait, I have questions…”
“Ally, I’m sure you do, but there is an epidemic spreading like wildfire right now. People are being found in rafts, canoes, kayaks, just about anything that floats. We find them, but usually it’s too late.”
“What do you mean too late?”
“You’re probably not going to believe this, but there’s some sort of infection turning people into… into something different.”
Ally swallowed, the thing she feared most had happened. She needed to get the data chip and expose how people were getting infected, it was the only way to save those who were left.
“Where are my things?”
“We collected them over there in the corner, we went through them to try to identify you, but found nothing.”
“That’s fine, when will we be in port?”
“About three days. We’re docking in Florida. I know it’s a cesspool, but it’s cheap to get work done and resupply.”
Ally closed her eyes in relief. “So, you’re an American vessel.”
“Oh, sorry, probably should have made that clear right off the bat.”
An alarm rang and Carl jumped to his feet. “I need to go, take it easy and I’ll check on you later.”
As soon as he left the room Ally tried to get out of bed to check on her things and make sure the chip was still there. The effort needed to sit up left her breathless, she flipped her feet over the side and a wave of dizziness hit her.
Ally fell backward onto the cot, frustrated she was so weak. She would check later when she got her strength back; in the meantime she would have to come up with a believable excuse as to why she didn’t have any valid identification on her, not even a communications implant.
* * *
Charlie peered over Trevor’s shoulder at a large plastic sheet laid out on the ground. Eight men in total circled the area as he tapped a few places in the lower right hand corner.
“All right, guys, it’s the usual job. There are at least twenty people targeted along with family and friends. We go in, do our job, and then blow the place. Trevor, light her up.”
Trevor rubbed his finger across the bottom of the sheet and it lit up to reveal a map. Several of the men gasped when they realized the structure they were about to destroy.
“Sir, are you sure about this?”
Charlie looked at the man who asked, Hank Forney. He’d been on the team for about six months and was their weakest link. He questioned authority, panicked in crises, and no matter how much Charlie hammered home the point that a clean weapon and keen eye for details would save your life, the guy didn’t listen.
“Yes, I’m sure, unless you would like to enlighten us with the research you did, and the chances you had to take in order to get the intelligence needed.”
Hank looked down, and Trevor continued with his presentation. As his second in command doled out the orders, Charlie thought about what he’d learned over the last few days. The team of scientists targeted were working on something major for the Russian firm. They’d been assembled months ago. Several weeks later they were moved to the main office, right around the time he’d been contacted to do a job on a submarine.
A stab of guilt went through him, everyone on board died, one of them a good friend of his. At least they used to be good friends, he wasn’t sur
e how a reunion would go now, not that it mattered.
Further investigation led him to the connection with Russia, and its exportation of water to various places around the world. In fact, one of the first outbreaks occurred in Moscow, but they covered it up. Charlie put together the puzzle pieces and an ugly picture emerged.
All locations receiving water from the firm heading up Russia were ground zeroes for “contained episodic infection” as the media referred to them, when they bothered to cover the suffering of the poor. Some places were under control, others weren’t. People locked themselves up in whatever hidey hole they could find with supplies, the basics like food and water. Charlie shook his head. They were ensuring contamination by doing so.
He needed to do something, but the news wouldn’t believe him, if he even got that far. All media outlets were firm run and owned, the moment he said “Russia” and “outbreak” in the same sentence he would meet an unfortunate end under mysterious circumstances.
He needed to get inside the building and gather all the data he could. There had to be a cure, or at the very least information he could use to help stop people from getting infected. A few underground radio places existed, it was the best he could do. Though at the rate the infection was spreading, they had a few weeks at most.
A red light indicated the plane was above their drop site. Charlie kicked open the hatch and watched as each one of his team leapt out. He was the last to go, saying a prayer on the way down.
Chapter Three—
Charlie hit the ground and rolled. Seconds later he stood and assessed the area they were in for any signs of danger. His men were out of their parachutes, rolling them up to hide in the brush.
He reached for his belt and pulled his utility knife out of its sheath severing the cords. When he finished he met up with his team.
“All right, Trevor you take Hank, Luke, and David. Go in and do the scientists’ families. Roger, Jack, and Mona, you’re with me. We’re going to take out the scientists then blow the building.”
“Sir, do we have enough explosives to take down a building this size?”
“Jack, we got enough G-Tex to blow the moon apart, don’t worry about it. Now let’s move.”
The two teams separated and Charlie hoped they could pull of the impossible. He could feel the tension coming off in waves from the three people with him. They were handpicked because of their loyalty and they’d prove they could hold it together when the shit hit the fan.
Hank, the exception on their team. He was chosen because Charlie didn’t trust him. He suspected he was a spy, perhaps for the North Koreans, but maybe the Israelis. Either way it didn’t matter, he was always under the watchful eye of him or Trevor. Tonight’s mission was too important so he pawned him off on Trevor. Charlie needed to pull off the impossible and no way would he be able to if Hank pulled one of his vanishing acts.
As they progressed through the brush, four feet of snow hampered their progress. Charlie thought about what he was attempting to do. Talk of taking down one of the main firms of a super power was one thing. Actually doing it was something else entirely.
He consulted the screen wrapped around his coat, they were approximately seven kilometers from their target, they should be on point within an hour and a half if they picked up the pace. A noise up ahead stopped Charlie in his tracks.
A uniformed man made his way through the woods, it didn’t make sense. Charlie knew they would run into guards, and they had the tranquilizer darts to deal with them. This far out however, something was wrong, very wrong.
Another noise, this time to the right, up ahead, behind them. Within moments they were surrounded by the Russian Army of the dead. Charlie tapped his implant and activated the direct connection to Trevor.
“We’ve got company of the undead variety, might delay our time table, and be on the lookout. I doubt these are the only ones.”
A burst of static then he heard Trevor’s response: “Got it, will wait to hear from you before we move on the plan, be safe.”
“All right, Roger you take the back, Jack you got the right, Mona left, I’ll take point. Dump the tranqs and load up the real ammo, let’s make this quick as possible.”
The sound of metal clicking and slides being pulled back echoed in the dark area. Charlie threw a flare about twenty feet in front of them, when he thought they were dealing with an army of the dead, he’d been exaggerating.
Now as he stared at the walking corpses moaning for his flesh, he realized he’d actually underestimated the direness of his circumstances.
Dammit, why did things always go backward?
He fired a shot in frustration, the bullet going through the eye of one of the approaching zombies causing the back of its head to explode in a shower of bone, brain, and a tarry substance. Two undead soldiers stopped and pounced on their fallen comrade, they sounded like animals as they ripped him apart and ate. Charlie fired again, as did the others with him. They were in for another battle, and he had a bad feeling this might become more common in the future.
In fact, he realized there were more corpses walking around than live humans right now, the damn Earth was a zombie utopia. If he failed, it would not just be a few million people who paid the price until someone else came in to do something, it would be their entire civilization. With renewed vigor, he put holes in anything threatening his chances of making a better America.
One of his team tossed a grenade, and when it blew they were showered with fingers, hands, various viscera, and the occasional foot.
Charlie tapped his implant. “Keep your damn mouths and eyes covered, last thing I need is one of you getting infected. And warn me before you pull a pin next time.”
They readjusted the masks they wore making sure the seal was airtight.
* * *
Trevor led the small group toward the first address on the list. If everything went according to plan, which it never did, all family members and friends of the scientists should be there. Before they left Charlie sent a message to the wife of Dr. Winston pretending to be him. He asked her to gather everyone at a particular address and wait.
Through their research they determined this house, on the side of town in a not so nice area, would be the easiest to enter and do what needed to be done. Snuffing the lives of almost fifty people wasn’t as easy as most people thought. A lot of planning and proper timing went into it. Trevor scanned the house with infrared glasses seeing a couple dozen people inside, almost twenty were missing.
“Luke and David, cover the back exit. Hank you come with me, we’re going in through the front.”
The group separated and Trevor, who knew to keep a watch on Hank, headed for the main entrance. He knocked three times and waited five seconds, as per the orders sent to the wife. A small woman with a wrinkle lined face opened the door. She screamed as soon as she saw him.
He moved fast, grabbing the woman and covering her mouth with his hand. He winced when she bit on her finger and resisted the urge to knock her out. Hank entered behind him and went for the living room.
Trevor kicked the door shut and then followed after Hank.
“What the hell are you doing, Hank?”
“All of you shut the hell up. We’re here to help you, not hurt you.”
“Hank, take it easy, they’re scared enough as it is, then two guys enter with guns in camouflage.”
Hank glared at him. Trevor let go of the woman after reassuring her they meant her no harm. She ran to two small children and wrapped them in a protective embrace.
“My friend and I here want to help you. Some bad people want to hurt you and your family members. You need to trust me okay? I need to know where the others are, there were supposed to be more of you.” Trevor asked.
The woman who let him in said, “I contacted everyone, some were already gone, others refused to leave their homes. I hear now they are collected a few blocks away in a building. Something happened,” she said in a whisper. “Monsters roam the stree
ts now.”
“Okay, I need a minute, but you will be fine. I promise.”
“Why should we trust you? You come in here with guns and scare the women and children,” a man from the back yelled out.
“Look, I don’t have time to be nice and explain everything. I will say this one more time, some bad people want to kill you and your family. If you want to live raise your hand and go out the back door where two of my friends will meet you and take you somewhere safe. Those of you who want to die are free to stay here.”
Trevor looked at his watch, to stay on track they would need to get things going a whole lot faster. A few people stood and walked to the back door, then a few more. After three minutes they all moved to the back of the house.
He tapped the implant when he was out of earshot and accessed the direct connect with Charlie. He heard gunshots and the occasional grunt.
“Boss, this can’t wait. Not all the family members are here, some refused to come. They’re at their hiding place, you want us to get them?”
A few minutes passed before he had an answer. “We don’t have the time, save the ones you can.”
Trevor nodded and set the explosives for thirty minutes. He motioned to Hank and the two sprinted out of the house to hit the streets looking for the other people on their list. Trevor didn’t want to leave any of them behind. Not to mention the more stuff they blew up, the more the folks who hired them would believe they did their job, everyone associated with the scientists needed to be dead. Which meant covering their tracks and blowing apartments and houses where they used to live.
Trevor discovered the apartment with the survivors and made his speech, not wasting any time. The group filed out and followed the route he gave them. As Trevor and Hank left the last apartment Trevor set the panel to trigger the fire alarm five minutes before the timer would go off. He was not in the business of killing innocents. He turned to leave and realized Hank was nowhere to be seen.