Zombie Infestation Page 3

  I continued smoking and drank my Long Island without thanking Roger, knowing it would irk him into speaking.

  “Consider that a gift from the best night of your life.” Arrogance tinged with anger dripped from every syllable.

  I turned back to him and give him a hard look. I started at his crotch and worked my way up. “You think you have it in you to give me a ride that good? I have power between my legs everywhere I go. Can you live up to my Harley?”

  I purposefully took a long drag off my cigarette, pursing my lips in an exaggerated ‘O’. His eyes never left my mouth.

  “Oh yeah, baby,” he said, dangerously close to drooling down his chest. “I can give you whatever you desire.”

  I laughed deep in my throat and with a quick motion, tossed my hair behind my head, and put my cigarette out while he leaned in close.

  “With lips like yours, you can keep me going for hours. I never stop until I wish it.”

  This guy’s arrogance jumped off the charts. It had been so long since I’d been out on a real date, I’d forgotten what regular men were like. It made me cynical.

  “As if. I’m not submissive. Your dick can’t handle this.” I thought he was going to fall to his knees with want. I’d issued a direct challenge. Lust lit his eyes and his mouth quirked in an evil grin as he likely imagined breaking me to his will. Side effect of the virus? Maybe. But I figured he’d been evil before the taint of zombie sickness took over.

  “I know exactly how to handle a woman like you.” His voice shook.

  Good. I had him now. Too arrogant to think a woman might have the same powers he did. “Why don’t you follow me outside, honey? We can do some” —I stopped, leaned closer to his ear and whispered— “talking.”

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the front exit. I pulled him back in such a way, he whipped back to me eye-to-eye. He nearly panted from lust.

  “Not that way, honey. Out back.” I tugged his hand and stepped away. When he didn’t follow, I turned back. “I’ve something special to show you.” Like a Saturday Night Special. Okay, so it was a .357 Magnum. Why quibble? For him, I may only use my knife. More personal that way. This guy was a jackass with or without the zombie virus. Putting him out of his misery before I gave the zombie’s brain the killing blow seemed too humane.

  He leered at me and followed like, well—I laughed to myself—like the lamb to the slaughter. Only in his case, it was more like putting down a rabid dog.

  I swayed my hips as I walked and kept a low hum going. Hearing my voice would keep him in a semi-hypnotic state and easy to coerce. I’d one last test—one I detested—to perform. Kissing him. Damn the accident. I was given psychic powers. Knew a certain amount without ever touching anyone.

  But to probe deeper into someone’s brain? I inwardly cringed. I couldn’t kill him until I was one-hundred percent sure he was a zombie, and not simply immune like myself. Even if he was a grade-A asshole. That meant kissing. My working theory ran that marks let their guard down the smallest amount during that moment, but it was enough for me to get in and access their mind. See if they were hurting people, eating them.

  I dropped off the step leading to the back alleyway. Turning, I slowly backed up toward the dumpster. His eyes glittered and reflected a hardness he’d hidden from me earlier. Oh yeah, I’d enjoy killing this one. How many others had he hurt or, more likely, killed? Now, for the final test.

  I held out both of my hands knowing he’d respond automatically. When he stepped in, I turned him so his back hit the brick wall, near the dumpster. With any luck, the dumpster would hide my actions from any casual onlookers.

  I put my arms up around his neck. I needed easy access to his head and the back of mine where I kept the knife in a specially made choker necklace. The beadwork hanging from the clasp had been designed to hold a knife. My Magnum was in a shoulder holster, but I wanted to do this one up close and personal. Plus, I hoped to have this over with before he asked what the bulge was.

  I put one hand at the base of his neck in a deceptively soft move, and my other hand on the top of his head, my arm draped up his chest and extending up the side of his head. I let out a low grunt as his hands grabbed my ass and jerked me into his hard-on. Well, I didn’t need to worry about him finding my gun yet. Not bad on size where it matters. What the hell? Why would I notice that now? I had a job to do. I’d deal with my libido later.

  I put my lips on his, slanted my eyes so they appear closed, and reached into his mind with mine. I shuddered. He thought it was from lust, but I nearly threw up in his mouth. Definitely a zombie. Infected with a capital “I.” He had killed three women in the last week—a normal escalation leading to the final zombie stage that occurred before they actually died. It was much uglier after death.

  The pictures in his mind, which showed him going down on a woman then literally eating her out while one hand held her down by the neck, were fresh, so recent the vividness made me want to gag. He strangled the woman’s screams along with her breath, each whimper exciting him.

  I slowly moved my hand from the top of his head to the back of mine, leaning hard against him like I wanted more. He kneaded my ass, grinding me into his cock. I grabbed my weapon and, still kissing him, brought it swiftly around and up into the back of his skull. I held him tightly with my other hand.

  He jerked at the last second, causing me to nick my hand, but I persevered. I held onto the knife handle with the now cut hand and upper-cut him with my other hand, pushing his skull deeper onto the blade. I grabbed his neck and squeezed. He didn’t want to die and fought it longer than others had.

  The zombie virus kept him alive long after a human would’ve died—the cells seeking to repair themselves and turn him into the mindless killing beast. The kind of monster I felt the scientist who created it sought to make in the first place before helping a faction of the army take control of the virus. What else they’d intended with the contraction of the disease, I couldn’t be sure. But this one, Roger, wouldn’t be hurting anymore women after tonight.

  Finally, he stopped fighting and slumped against the wall. My left hand was slick from my blood and his. I grimaced. I hated all the damn lab tests and with every new exposure, it started a new round. It was one of my top rules. I would kill myself before becoming one of these beautiful, deceptive monsters. I had kids to protect.

  Now was the dangerous time. The few minutes when I was vulnerable to getting caught. I took a rag and an aerosol can from my jacket and sprayed the bleach mixture on him. It took care of my blood and saliva on his skin. After I took a blood sample from him, I wiped the rest off his neck and tore away his shirt. I hadn’t bled much, but didn’t want to leave a trace of my blood on him. Anything else could be explained away by our contact in the bar. I applied the spray to his lips and washed those as well.

  Meticulously, I went over his body and clothes, as fast as I dared. When I finished the cleanup process, I picked up his body in a fireman’s carry, careful not to bleed on him again, and threw him into the dumpster. I took out the plastic bag I’d brought specifically to carry any bloody evidence home. The rag, shirt, knife, and spray can went into the bag.

  I tucked everything into my inside pockets, trying to distribute the bulk, and went back into the bar. I sat at my stool. Not bothering to finish my original drink, I started on my second. Exhilaration filled me, making me light-headed and giddy. It always hit me like this. The initial fear of killing the zombies remained, never letting up until the moment I knew he or she wouldn’t get away.

  Fear of killing, everyone felt it. However, the thrill I felt afterward frightened me. I exuded sexuality like a cat in heat, and was glad. This time, I wanted something for myself. Roger’s kiss lingered on my lips. A rag landed on my hand, startling me. I looked up to see Gabe staring at me seriously.

  “Here,” he said. “Looks like you cut yourself on that glass you broke. Take the towel. Go clean up.”

  I stared down in surprise at my hand. I
’d forgotten to clean myself up. A rookie mistake. I blushed and mumbled thanks. I dug in my leathers for a bill, threw it at the bar, and rushed outside. What if Gabe and I weren’t working together and someone else saw my injuries first? Fear and frustration coursed through me as strongly as the earlier exhilaration. I reached the bike and jammed the dark helmet on my head, strapping it down fast out of habit.

  I sat on my Black Harley Nightster and started the engine in a swift, fluid motion. I took off, angry with myself for missing such a simple step. I drove the few miles to my home and parked the bike in the garage.

  I leaned it on the kickstand and ran into the house, stripping my coat and tossing it on the couch on my way through the living room. I cursed and ducked to the bathroom to clean up. The kiss had affected me strangely. The second before the vision of Roger’s victim clarified, my body had responded to his.

  “Great. Now I’ve got the hots for zombies. What’s next? Vampire porn?” I pulled the leather pants off my legs and carefully hung them over the towel bar. I loved my leathers, but wasn’t as careful with my lace-lined silk shirt. It could go in the wash.

  I pushed up the heat in the shower, straight hot until the burn was too much and forced me to cool it down a bit. I scrubbed with my antibacterial soap and let the hot water flow over me. First getting kidnapped, then responding to the kiss of an Infected? Maybe I’d become too complacent with the super strength and mental powers I’d had since the accident. I knew one of the tools the Infected used was sexual pull. What made me think I would be immune to it? Whatever made me react to the zombie gave me the creeps.

  I kneaded my scalp hard, trying to scrub away the dirty feeling. Finally, I turned off the spray and reached for a towel. With my hair wrapped in one towel, my body wrapped in another, I looked in the mirror. The rush of the evening glittered in my eyes. I shrugged. It would go away eventually. It always did.

  Careful about the water dripping off me, I grabbed my leathers and padded out of the bathroom and through the empty living room. I snagged my jacket, looking around. Books and games littered the living room and I shook my head. My kids were good, but there were some things they couldn’t seem to do no matter how many times I nagged.

  I headed to the basement door just off the living room and went down. Off to the side was another door with a magnetic electric lock. I entered my security code and pressed my palm on the pad. After the built-in delay, the door opened with a whoosh.

  I waited until the door closed behind me before moving past the line marked in the floor. I moved to the next door in the short hallway and input a second code. The door opened with another low whoosh. Cold air washed over my nearly naked body, causing a slight chill and raising goose bumps on my flesh. The closed-in, stale air freshened by a small car air freshener Lori hung near her workspace. I hated having to do the tests, but at least I could leave the majority of the work to my scientist friend.

  The whole basement area had been arranged per instructions from Lori, the geneticist/scientist I had found through a friend who worked in the University of Washington’s Medical program. She also made a good babysitter. She kept all of her things in an orderly fashion. Nothing mad scientist about her. How fortunate I’d been to find someone like her, someone loyal, good with my kids, and smart as hell. Just the way I liked my friends.

  Collecting vials, needles, and other assorted equipment, I sat in the chair specifically installed for drawing blood and tied my arm with the latex tourniquet the way Lori had shown me. I did a few hand pumps to push out my veins, took a few deep breaths before inserting the needle. The blood started flowing and I kept breathing until I’d collected the thirty cc for the prelim tests necessary to check for further infection.

  Taking the larger tube I’d filled, I separated it into the standard three vials, leaving the rest for Lori to decide what, if any, other tests to run. I put the whole lot in the cold storage, made sure the date was readable. As always, I grabbed a small bottle of OJ to replenish the blood I’d lost. My increased metabolism, a side effect of the virus, caused me to need more than the average person. I locked up the blood storage unit. I always kept everything double secured or better. Lori would have my hide if I didn’t. The scientist I’d been supremely lucky to find was not only young and smart, genetics were her specialty. She was also a stickler for security and would tell me off if I became lax.

  I trudged back through the security doors and up the stairs. God, what a night. And it would be time to get up and get the kids off to school in four hours. Kyle could do without me, but Seth still liked to see my face before school. Some days it was hard to keep my other life from the kids. Hell, Kyle would try to join me.

  My head pounded. I hated the headaches. For a moment, I stood and rubbed my temples. They’d started after the incident, and I couldn’t help but wonder what they meant. Was it my body’s way of dealing with the adrenaline? Or a sign my body was going to crash and burn?

  I’d no way of knowing and the damn government wasn’t exactly forthcoming about the situation. I needed to keep searching and tracking all the information I could. Just in case.

  Despite the late hour, I crept in to my boys’ rooms to check on them after putting on my night clothes. Seth slept on his side, curled up on top of his blankets. I smiled. Ever since he was a baby, I’d had trouble keeping him covered. I pulled the blanket up over his Marvel character pajamas and touched a hand to his cheek.

  The last few years had been roughest on him, I think. His dad’s defection to another family, complete with his own “other” kids, hit all of us hard, but Seth hurt the most. He didn’t show it often. My heart ached whenever I saw the faraway look in his eyes. I bent over, kissed him on the forehead, and whispered, “Love you.”

  He groaned, opened his eyes, and smiled at me.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said sleepily.

  “Hi, son. Go back to sleep. Just checking on you guys. Goodnight.”

  “‘Night, Mom. Can I have five bucks?”

  I’d started to leave already and had to turn around to look at him. His dark hair contrasted starkly against his fair skin in the streetlight shining through his window. His big eyes looked at me imploringly.

  “What do you want with five dollars?”

  “They’re selling popcorn at school.” He was barely able to stay awake. He must really want that popcorn.

  “And it’s five dollars for popcorn?” I was a little skeptical, but with all the fundraisers, who knew.

  “No. It’s a quarter.”

  Okay, he had me stumped. “A quarter. So you want five dollars for popcorn that’s a quarter?”

  “Yes. My friends want some too. I want to share with them.”

  My smile was his answer.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Happy, he snuggled under the blankets.

  I shook my head at the easy-to-please boy.

  After a quick check on Kyle, I shut his door and moved down the hall to my room. I sat on the queen-sized bed situated under the bay window, took out my phone, and tiredly plugged it in. As I laid there contemplating the stars—my favorite bedtime ritual—my cell vibrated incessantly. I groaned. Who the hell could that be?

  I let it go to voicemail. If important, they’d leave a message. When the voicemail alert beeped, I muttered and hit play. It was Mutt and Jeff—my Suited kidnappers.

  Shit. They wanted me to leave tomorrow. Somebody’s timetable had changed. I cursed loudly and jumped out of bed to pack. What the hell happened to change the plan so radically? They’d better have a good explanation. Babysitter favors were expensive enough. Changes in the timetable could lead to downright extortion and nobody was better at it than Lori.

  I broke one of my personal rules. I grabbed a cigarette and lit up in the house. I didn’t believe in coincidences. Yet it had to be coincidental they’d upped the timetable the same night I’d a physical response to a zombie. Right? Or maybe the Suits had figured out my true identity. Either way, it was troubling in a situation with one too
many questions. What the hell was happening?

  Chapter 3

  I flipped off the driver who cut me off and sighed. No point in taking my anger out on him. My road rage was bad enough without the extra push from the Suits. They were livid I didn’t call them back right away. Instead, I decided to let the kids have a normal day. I slept a little and packed and shopped. Yeah, boring, but at least I was ready and knew I hadn’t missed or forgotten anything.

  Blue Suit raised Cain until I explained I’d spent the day packing and arranging my children’s care. Plus, I’d also pointed out, I had everything and wasn’t going off half-cocked. I snickered, remembering his sputtering when I emphasized that word. He’d been so angry with me. I grinned and felt much better.

  I didn’t tell him about my new cut and exposure to the virus. It had to be the Ultimate form since I’d responded so strongly to Roger. Fuck! My stomach rolled as I remembered the momentary attraction combined with the pictures in his mind.

  My phone rang, which gave me a welcome distraction. The number on the screen was for my contact with the bureau from the Texas side of the border.

  “This is Serena,” I answered in my secretary voice.

  “Serena. This is Special Agent Joseph Connelly. How far are you from my post?”

  I pulled the phone away and looked at it. Was the whole fucking FBI crazier than the zombies? I put the cell back up to my ear.

  “Um, just leaving Washington now. Good weather, I can be there in thirty hours. Have to stop to sleep a few hours. Otherwise, quick drive through. Blue Suit should’ve told you.” I hated incompetence. Someone should’ve told him I wasn’t leaving until now.

  “Blue suit?”

  “Yeah. One of the two assholes who kidnapped and coerced me into this. One wore navy blue, the other black. Blue and Black Suit.” I also hated explaining myself. Couldn’t the suits have warned him about me? This whole thing stank. Everything had been completely out of regular means the FBI used. Suspicious, who me?