Dying Days [Book 9] Read online

  “I knew you couldn’t do it. If I were still a betting man, I would’ve said twenty minutes before you got antsy.” The man who’d stepped out was naked, his hair gray and wild.

  His hair matched his eyes.

  April knew he was a smart zombie.

  She tried to kill him but he was too fast and she’d panicked, her shot going wide.

  He was in her face, fingers gripping her neck as his other hand relieved her of her weapon.

  “What’s your name, pretty lady?”

  “Fuck off.”

  He dug his nails into her flesh. “That’s an odd name.”

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  “I don’t see anyone.” Tosha slipped to her right to get a better view and angle.

  The shots had come from up the street near the pickup trucks. Either they’d stopped for some reason and one of them saw her and Mitch or they were waiting, in which case they’d be circling behind them soon enough.

  “A couple dozen guys can’t all be hiding. Eventually we’ll see movement. Hopefully it won’t be too late,” Mitch said.

  “We should go back. Find another way.” Tosha just wanted to get to The Promised Land so she could have some closure. If everyone else was dead, so be it. Then she could go on with her life. As shitty as it was.

  “They’re already behind us. Since we haven’t continued down the street they know they’ve been spotted or we at least know they’re here. Lying in wait. Our best bet is to sit still. The worst thing we can do is go forward or back and engage.” Mitch kept scanning in all directions with his weapon. “We just need one of them to show themselves.”

  “Will they do it?”

  “Not if they’re as trained as I think they are.”

  Tosha sighed. “Then we’re at a stalemate. We sit pat until we starve to death?”

  “Here’s the best-case scenario for us: a few step out, one at a time, and I put them down quickly. One shot kills. Headshots, too. Show them they’re messing with a pro. The rest count their losses and quietly pull out, leaving us alone and searching for easier prey.”

  “What other scenarios you got in that big head of yours?” Tosha asked.

  Mitch shook his big head. “Everything else deals with how quickly we die. We should focus on the best-case scenario.”

  “That does sound like a good plan.” Tosha thought she saw movement back near the bridge. She scanned with the sight on her rifle but, if someone was there, they’d dug in.

  “What kind of music do you like, Mitch?”

  He chuckled next to her. “I’m not really a big fan of music. I mean, I’ll listen to whatever is on the radio but I never bought a CD or record in my life.”

  “This is why we could never be together. Music is so important to me. My sister loved video games. Don’t get me wrong, I played with her all the time, but it was all she did. I went outside sometimes. Weekends at clubs all over Pennsylvania, New Jersey and into New York. I loved going to see bands play.” Tosha had her finger on the trigger. She was almost sure she’d seen a shadow near the bridge.

  “You see someone?” Mitch asked.

  “I got our back. Just make sure they don’t attack us from the front.”

  “They will. All at once. A timed movement. Shots and advancing so we’re pinned down.”

  “What do we do? It’s too late to run.” Tosha definitely saw someone moving near the bridge.

  “We stay and fight but conserve ammo. How good of a shot are you?”

  “Very good. I’m sure not as good as you, but I can kill things with this,” Tosha said with a grin and smacked the rifle in her hand. “Why?”

  “It might come time for you to take a shot. You’ll only get one chance.”

  “Then I’ll make it count.”

  Mitch slid a foot to his right and shot.

  Tosha watched a man rise from the rubble near the bridge and she put him down with a bullet through his left eye.

  “Nice shot.”

  “I told you I was good.” Tosha scanned for another enemy.

  “That’s two down before they had time to attack. Hopefully that showed them we mean business,” Mitch said.

  “I thought you said they were organized.”

  “Maybe not as much as I thought.” Mitch took quick aim and fired again. “Got another one.”

  “We keeping track? Is this a contest?”

  “Not much of one so far. I’m in the lead,” Mitch said and fired again. “Three down. How many did we count?”

  Tosha sighed. “Too many.”

  They both ducked as shots began bouncing all around them in the rubble, but they had enough cover.

  Tosha waited for Mitch to move before she popped back up and took stock of who was behind her.

  Two men, both running. She shot them and dropped back down. “Two more.”

  “Three for me,” Mitch said with a smile.

  She liked how calm he was under fire. She was trying to be tough but she felt like she was going to puke at any second.

  “Hold your fire,” someone was yelling from near the pickup trucks.

  Tosha and Mitch both took a peek. A man wearing an Army uniform and carrying an AK-47 was standing on the back of the vehicle.

  “This is Command Sergeant Major Williams. Who are you?”

  Mitch nodded. “I knew he was military, the person leading these guys, but I don’t think they’re all servicemen. He’s been patching together a group.” Mitch stuck his head out. “I’m Command Sergeant Major Longley. We just want to move along without incident. No one else has to die.”

  “Is that really your title?” Tosha asked.

  Mitch put his head back down. “I might’ve inflated my title. Probably what he did, too.”

  “We don’t want any problems. Just drop your weapons and let us have whatever you have. We’ll be on our way and let you live. You have my word. One military man to another,” their leader said “What’s your answer?”

  Mitch slowly stood. “You swear?”

  “Yes. Step out and drop your weapon. One at a time.”

  “They won’t let us live,” Tosha said. “You can’t believe that.”

  Mitch glanced at Tosha as he stood and put up his hands, still holding his rifle. “I don’t believe it for a second. I’m going right.”

  “Now put it down,” the man yelled.

  Mitch dropped the rifle to his right but also fell in that direction.

  Tosha stood and shot, her bullet striking their leader in the neck. She was going for a headshot. She was getting better.

  Mitch had the rifle in hand again and shot twice, aiming behind them.

  “Two more down,” he said. He crawled back to Tosha as shots began ringing out.

  Chapter Thirty

  Darlene wished she still had the capacity to cry.

  It was her beloved John Murphy, or rather a sickening twisted shell of him in front of her.

  Weapons for arms. Armor seared into his body. His eyes black coals. His mouth twisted in pain.

  Darlene scanned him. He was buried deep inside but he was there. The John she knew.

  Now Darlene was pissed.

  Her son had done it on purpose.

  It would’ve been easier to erase his mind and use his body for a psychological advantage. It was even crueler to have him retain some of his memories.

  She wondered if there was any way to do this without completely killing him.

  Darlene knew there wasn’t.

  “What’s your goal with this one, you little shit?” she asked her son, knowing he was watching.

  A family reunion.

  “I see you got your grandfather’s sense of humor.” Darlene began walking backwards, pacing with John as he came forward.

  The sight of him was too much and she looked away, over the ocean, where seagulls were busy diving into the water for fish. She wondered if they had any idea what had happened to the world. Was this business as usual for them?

  One of the gulls explo
ded in air.

  Oops. My bad. I forgot mommy liked the birds.

  “You’re an idiot. I wonder what would’ve happened if John and I could’ve stayed together and he had lived. If we’d raised you the right way. Would you still be this much of an asshole?”

  We’ll never know.

  “I’d like to think, in some alternate reality, you’re the best son a mother could ever have. We’d be one of the few left, helping the human race to thrive but learn from their mistakes.”

  We’d be gods.

  Darlene shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. We’d lead them. The right way. No more wars and senseless killing. We’d instill confidence and love, like it was meant to be.”

  You can’t believe in that garbage. You’re stalling because you know you have to kill my daddy.

  “I suppose you won’t bargain with me to let him live?”

  Even my powers can’t change him back to the John Murphy you knew. He’s still in there. You’re right about that. But it is so small an amount of him. Just enough to bother you and to let him know what I’m making him do.

  “I won’t kill him.”

  You have no choice. He has some of my power. He’s not going to just keep walking with you until time expires. He’ll use it soon enough.

  Darlene stopped walking. She knew her son wasn’t going to make this easy.

  John stopped as well and raised his weaponized arms.

  “Bullets and swords aren’t going to hurt me,” Darlene said. “I’m not sure why you wasted time making him so grotesque.”

  Because it would bother you. And I’m still a kid at heart. It was fun playing with a science project. I never got to go to school like the other kids.

  Darlene didn’t think she could put him down. Her love was inside this monster. What if she could bide her time, get away, and kill her son first?

  It wouldn’t matter. I’m not the head vampire of myth. If I die the other zombies don’t simply fall down dead and turn to dust. They’re still alive and well and hunting the few humans left.

  “When you finally stop being such a little chicken shit, I’ll make sure you suffer for doing this.”

  You gotta catch me first, mommy. I’m not ready to fight you. I want to see you kill my daddy first. Then, and only then, will I show myself.

  “Coward.”

  Sticks and stones… going silent until the deed is done.

  Darlene went back to blocking him.

  Staring at John, who was ready to fight.

  She needed to end this, even though it would be the worst thing imaginable.

  Standing here, seeing him like this was only making it worse.

  This was something she had to do in order for her to finish off her son.

  The more time she spent thinking about it instead of doing it, the more people were being killed.

  While his off-the-cuff comment about him not being the head vampire held some truth, the bottom line was he controlled the zombies right now. With him gone, they’d all go back to doing their own thing.

  It might be the only chance for anyone to survive.

  “John, I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. I’m sorry but you know I need to do this. I need to get through you in order to face him.” Darlene sighed. “I love you. I miss you so much.”

  John nodded and started coming towards her.

  Darlene wanted to end this quickly. Like yanking off a Band-Aid. Fast and clean.

  She formed a fireball in her hand and tossed it at John, putting her head down. She didn’t want to see him explode.

  He grunted.

  Darlene looked up in time to see him charred but still moving.

  Her little shit son had put some effort into protecting him. He’d been watching Darlene and what she was using to fight, and had equipped John accordingly.

  She took a step back as she tried to inventory everything she’d been using.

  John’s left arm, which was a machete, shot through the air. She put up a shield but it penetrated it, catching the end of the barrier and changing the angle just enough it missed her face by inches.

  I’ve used that shield before.

  His other arm was a modified machine gun. It lit up, firing rounds at her.

  Instead of using another shield, she jumped into the air and hovered.

  John aimed his weapon up and she dove down, her arm extended and fist in the lead. Her body began to spin.

  Darlene slammed into the sand.

  And was gone.

  John turned in a circle.

  Darlene reached up with her hand and dragged John into the sand.

  She’d created a pocket, which she had him trapped in. Darlene was behind her love but she stopped thinking about it.

  “If you’re still in there, I’ll meet you on the other side. I love you.”

  Darlene began ripping him apart, starting with severing his head from his neck.

  She didn’t stop until he was in a hundred pieces.

  Darlene burst from the sand, dropping the pocket so he’d be buried and she didn’t have to see what she’d done.

  She hoped God would forgive her for doing it.

  Chapter Thirty One

  They let the river take them for miles, maneuvering so they didn’t get too close to the shoreline and zombies. At one point they went under a bridge, a pickup truck balanced precariously on the side of it, threatening to fall into the water at any moment.

  The river split a few times and they kept to the left. Neither had a reason for doing it. It just felt right.

  “End of the line,” Bernie said when her feet hit the shallow mud underneath. She was glad there weren’t any zombies in the water or on the shore near them.

  “I was starting to get sick of hanging onto this tree limb anyway.” Profit stood and stretched. “We walk from here.”

  The riverbed was soft and they stumbled until they got to more stable ground. Instead of heading east and towards the peninsula, A1A and the ocean, they figured going west and then eventually turning north would be their best bet.

  As far away from this spot as they could get was the goal.

  “If we keep going, we’re abandoning everyone else,” Profit said.

  “How do you know, if we go back, we’re not putting ourselves back in danger?”

  Profit nodded. “I’m not arguing for or against. Just playing the Devil’s advocate. If you want my opinion, I’ll give it.”

  “I want it. Hold nothing back. Sway me either way, Profit, because right now I’m torn.”

  Bernie didn’t know if she could live with herself turning her back on any survivors.

  “I can’t make the decision alone. That’s not fair.” Profit dropped on a dry hill surrounded by weeds. “I do know I need a break. My arms are killing me.”

  Bernie remained standing, watching the water around them. They were on a small island. “It’s weird not to see zombies. There are even a couple of seagulls wandering around.”

  “I’m sure there are also some gators and snakes, too. We got lucky getting so far in the water without an attack. I say we stick to dry land from this point.” Profit stood and stretched again. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Profit smiled. “That’s the big question.”

  “I have questions. I want honest answers.”

  Profit nodded.

  “Do you think anyone in The Promised Land made it through the night and this morning?”

  “Honestly? I doubt it. If they did, they are scattered like we are. Hiding where zombies can’t find them but we probably couldn’t, either.”

  “Second question: if we run, do you think we’ll find somewhere safe?”

  Profit shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Final question: do we have a better chance of escaping by going north or west, or better to head back and help survivors?”

  “That’s really two different ideas. You really want to know which cho
ice we’ll be able to live with,” Profit said.

  “I guess I am.”

  “Surviving should be the goal right now. Who says we can’t get somewhere safe, get our shit together and head back? Maybe even with other survivors or firepower.” Profit looked south and then north. “I’ll do whatever you want to do, Bernie.”

  “I hope this isn’t how this relationship is going to go. Let me make all the hard decisions so you’re off the hook.”

  “Since I met you, you’ve been the take-charge leader. You think I don’t find it completely sexy?”

  Bernie laughed. “I’m sure you do. Every man I’ve ever met wanted to dominate. Tell me what to do. Think I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.”

  “Even the white boys?”

  “Stop.”

  Profit walked a few feet to the north, testing the ground. “No matter which way we go, we need to wade across the river ahead. It looks pretty shallow. Low tide. I’d say we steer west and away from A1A. There’s sure to be zombies on the road.”

  “Agreed.” Bernie walked past him. “Let’s get over to higher ground and then decide north or south.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They walked for a few minutes, watching where they stepped.

  Bernie slowed down when she saw a ripple in the water to her right.

  “Snake,” Profit said. “Big one.”

  They took their time, making sure they didn’t step blindly into weeds or into murky puddles.

  “I see a house ahead to the west. Perfect. Right where we want to go,” Profit said.

  The ground rose and the footing got easier.

  They found themselves on a well-worn natural path, most likely used by fishermen in the past.

  Crossing this part of the secondary river was easy and they barely got their ankles wet before getting to the other side and even higher ground.

  The house was always in sight. Bernie hoped no one was home or, if they were home, they weren’t going to shoot and ask questions later.

  Profit stopped next to a tree on the outskirts of the property. “You want me to go first? You can cover me.”

  “With what? A stick?”