Zombies Begin (Zombies Begin Series Book 1) (16 page)

Fuller marched toward him. Muddy water pushed into small waves. He was done playing games. Time to take the freak down.

Fuller stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes moved down on his twelve gauge. The problem? The shotgun was now in Fiedler’s hands.

Dr. Fiedler had outsmarted him. He had the gun and was in an elevated position. Guess it wouldn’t be Lloyd to put a bullet in him.

Fuller’s mind raced. He wasn’t sure what his next move should be. Fiedler raised the twelve gauge.

Fuller dived into the dark water. A shot rang out. Water, maybe blood, splattered into the air as the bullet cracked the surface of the swirling water.

Fiedler scanned the water’s surface.

Rain and night provided perfect cover.

Fuller swam hard under the surface. The shot had missed.

The water just deep enough for him to float at the bottom, out of sight. Another blast echoed out of the forest. The bullet hit the bottom, close to Fuller’s right shoulder.

Fuller emptied his lungs to stay on the bottom. No more shots. He was running out of air fast. His thoughts were cast back to his time in the human fish tank at the facility. Trapped in water. The kind of death he feared. He pushed off hard against the bottom of the pond.

He propelled himself through the air with superhuman strength, bursting out of the pond, landing on the bank. Muddy drops dripping from his water-logged body.

Fiedler squeezed the trigger. Click! Empty.

Fuller smirked. Armed with a knife.
You’re mine.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, readying for the impending brawl; his eyes off the target for only for a split second, but enough time for the doc to react.

The shotgun spun through the air like a baseball bat hitting a homerun. It connected with a wet thud deep into Fuller’s chest. He stumbled back, his foot slipping near the water’s edge.

Fielder advanced toward him. Hunched over. Fingers extended. Nails like claws. Teeth clenched.

Fuller gripped the large hunting knife. Animal instinct kicked in. Rage took over. Go time.

Like two wolves fighting for dominance, the two men met. Fielder struck first, clawing at Fuller’s face.

Fuller reacted quickly. The sharp blade used as defense. The doc’s hand recoiled as two of his fingers dropped to the muddy bank. As though Dr. Fiedler was still self-aware he momentarily stared at his wounded hand.

Fuller didn’t give him a chance to ponder too long. He lunged at him, slashing his stomach. The two men locked up. Trying to overpower each other.

With a burst of raw energy, Fiedler threw Fuller off him. Both men tumbled, rolling down the short embankment into the water.

They thrashed about in the water, each trying to get the upper hand. Fiedler went for the bite attack, gnashing his teeth with fury at Fuller.

At that point, Fuller had no choice—he sank his knife deep into Fiedler’s ribs. Twisting it sideways.

The left side of Fiedler’s body went limp. His mortal body failing him. But he would not stop. He pressed on, trying to pass his disease onto Fuller.

Fuller grabbed him around the throat, pushing him back to stop the bite.

A figure on the top of the embankment caught Fuller’s attention. Santiago had finally found her way. She screamed as Fuller removed the knife and stabbed it into Fiedler’s chest.

The doc crashed back into the water. His limp body bobbed up and down on the surface. Fuller stumbled through the water to check on his condition.

Fiedler coughed blood. His black eyes froze open. Blood ran down his cheek from his open mouth. Dead.

Fuller watched on with disappointment. He breathed deeply. The only man with any chance of curing him had died by his hand.

A small drop of water ran along a branch and fell to the muddy, leaf-covered ground. Soft, orange rays of sunlight broke through the thick brush, waking up woodland creatures. Smoke billowed into the air from a small fire at the front of the cabin. Davis cracked an egg onto a hot pan he had placed over the fire. He had set up a small makeshift stove top to rest the pan on. The others sat around on lumps of wood, large rocks, anything they could use for seating. The fire felt good against their cold, beaten bodies. They watched on as Davis cracked another egg into the pan, anticipating the warm breakfast.

It wasn’t long before the first two eggs were ready. Davis slid the steaming eggs on to a banged up metal plate he had scavenged from the cabin. He reached across to serve Lloyd first, who was still disgruntled and nursing his wounded arm. Lloyd accepted the plate and dipped a dry piece of toast into the well-salted, runny yellow yoke, popping it into his mouth. He chewed quickly. He hadn’t eaten in more than twenty-four hours.

Santiago and Fuller looked on as Davis cracked another two eggs into the pan. The sound of the frying food made them even more hungry. Santiago glanced across at Fuller, connecting eyes. She gave him a grateful smile as they waited for their portion. Fuller nodded in acknowledgment. His eyes wandered as his mind was racing, divided.

Fuller glanced back up at Santiago. She was still staring at him. She could see that his mind was working. Fuller’s eyes darted around, dodging hers. He didn’t want any sympathy right now. He got to his feet and wandered off a short distance.

He bent down, snatched up small rock and tossed it into the trees. He felt depressed. Empty.

Still a walking disease, he wasn’t sure what to do next. His life was in ruins. His only hope was to find the doctor and a cure, and now all was lost in one night. Completely screwed.

His depression started to turn into anger. He grabbed another rock. The rock exploded into a small tree, taking a large chuck out of it.

Fuller felt a gentle touch on his right arm. Santiago had followed him over. Her touch caused a calm to overcome him.

“We’re in this together.” She nodded at the other two still at the campfire. “All of us.”

Fuller glanced back over his shoulder at the two weary, battle-scarred men. They had been sucked into this situation against their will as well.

“He wanted this to happen!” Fuller mumbled.

Santiago looked at him confused.

“Fiedler! He wanted to start an outbreak. Mass disease!”

“We weren’t trying to create a disease. We were trying to create superhumans.”

Fuller pulled back from Santiago, not impressed with her comment.

“Well... you failed!”

Santiago knew he was right, but she still felt hurt. She felt the pressure that it was up to her to fix what had gone wrong. But trying to solve this problem, on her own, impossible.

“We were playing with things beyond our control. He just wanted his creation to be shared with the world. He didn’t realize what it was that he was sharing.”

“Don’t defend his actions.” Fuller raised his hand. “The guy wasn’t normal! He was a whack job!”

Santiago bit her bottom lip. She stared out into the trees. She didn’t want to get into an argument. She was too tired and what had been done had been done.

“The government doesn’t hire normal people,” she said softly.

Santiago wrapped her arms around herself, giving herself a hug. Fuller glanced at her. He grabbed another rock and tossed it into the trees.

“EGGS ARE DONE!” Davis called.

***

Davis finished the cooking and everyone sat eating in silence. Lloyd was the only one finished. He looked around at the glum faces of his team. He had an idea that would break the silence. He staggered over to his truck parked nearby and fired up the radio, hoping a good song would lift spirits. He searched through the channels. Reception was poor. Finally he found one. A newsbreak crackled through the speakers.

“...Health officials have quarantined parts of the city overnight, as a new virus threatens to spread to other parts of the city. Local law enforcement is assisting FEMA, locking down multiple suburbs, with reports that the National Guard has been deployed. Residents in surrounding suburbs are being advised to stay inside and lock their doors and windows and to stay clear of the ‘no go zones’…”

Lloyd whipped around to look at the others.

***

Inner-city streets lay deserted. Only the clicking of changing traffic lights could be heard. Pools of water, from the night’s rain storm, filled imperfections in the street and sidewalks. An old newspaper blew across the barren road. Trash filled the streets as though a riot had taken place there. Charred shells of burnt-out cars littered the street. Some turned on their sides, others on their roofs. Broken glass blanketed footpaths from smashed-in store front windows.

A rumble echoed through the empty streets. A large tire crushed the trash-laden street. A convoy of armored military vehicles crawled its way through. The front hummer had a soldier positioned on top with a mounted fifty-cal machine gun, ready to blow away anything that moved. His eyes scanned the buildings above and around him. He was just a young guy. Just out of training no doubt. Fear in his eyes. His finger itched at the trigger.

Something darted in his peripheral vision. Without a second thought, he pointed his gun and opened up. Shell casings bounced all over the roof of the truck like rain, as he unleashed hell. Bullets sprayed across the street, hitting into buildings. Windows smashed. Chunks of brick and concrete flew into the air.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Orders cracked across the radio.

The gunfire came to a halt; the young soldier breathed heavily. The smell of gunpowder choked up the air. The smoke and dust finally cleared, revealing nothing. All clear. The young soldier wiped his mouth with the back of his black-gloved hand. The convoy continued to press on.

The trucks turned into another street and suddenly stopped. The driver of the front vehicle peered over his steering wheel. In front of him a large crowd of hundreds of infected people stood in the way. They all had a gentle sway, as though they were in a trance.

The young soldier readied his fifty cal. His eyes darted around the crowd, watching for any movement. He wasn’t sure where to aim his gun. He panned the barrel over the crowd. His heart rate jumped—this was the real deal. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his cheek; a lump in his throat. The war had begun.

Bullets sprayed into the crowd. A massacre. Shells showered the armed vehicle. Zombies dropped quickly in pools of blood. More seemed to appear out of nowhere. Where the hell were they coming from? As soon as the first shot rang out, the crowd rushed toward the trucks. Zombies climbed out of buildings, encircling the entire convoy. There was no stopping them. The driver slammed the truck into reverse and tore backwards. He crashed into the stalled truck behind him. Panic—even for well-trained war heroes. Nothing could prepare them for this. None of them had encountered this before. This was a new kind of war.

Johnny Chen fought his way through the crowd, breaking away from the pack. By his side the German shepherd—Danek. Patches of hair missing. A diseased animal. It dashed toward the convoy. Leaping through the air, attacking the young soldier. Its powerful jaws sinking into his left arm. He shrieked in pain. He tried to turn his bulky gun onto the animal, firing into the air.

Johnny followed his new dog, landing up on the roof of the vehicle. He lunged at the young soldier, teeth piercing his shoulder and shaking him like a rag doll. The soldier’s body went limp. Johnny let out a roar of victory. He grabbed hold of the fifty cal, reefing it from the roof. He grunted as he held the large gun over his head, tossing it into the windshield of the truck behind him.

Soon the other zombies had invaded all the vehicles, killing and destroying. They were like a plague of locusts over a fresh crop, devouring all before them.

***

The Beast zipped through the woods on a small dirt track. Its large tires gripped to the muddy trail. Fuller was behind the wheel. He pushed the vehicle hard. Lloyd and Davis in back. Santiago sat in the passenger seat, holding on for dear life. Wind lashed their faces. No windshield to stop the flow of air. Fuller was in the zone. He was lucky Lloyd let him drive it. It showed a lot of trust.

The truck skidded to an abrupt stop in a small clearing. Mud splattered the side of the four-by-four. Fuller and Santiago were first out of the truck. They dashed past some small trees and scrambled upon a small hill. The edge of a cliff, a beautiful vista of the the city skyline below them.

In the distance, smoke poured from many of the skyrises. Surrounding homes ablaze. Military helicopters circled the skies—a war zone.

Davis and Lloyd stumbled up behind the pair. Their eyes caught the stunning sight. Each person in a personal state of awe and disbelief.

“The apocalypse has started,” Davis said. “We’re all gonna die.”

Fuller turned to Davis. He knew he was right. They were too late. Stopping the outbreak was no longer an option. Survival was now the only option.

“It’s going to get harder,” Fuller muttered. “This is just the beginning.”

To my readers,

Thank you for purchasing
Zombies Begin
. This is the first book in the series and it has already seen some great success by hitting the top categories in Amazon.

I really enjoyed writing this adventure and I appreciate people like you who allow me to continue to write. Because of you and the support of other fans I
’m now
working on
Book 2 of Zombies Begin,
called
Zombies Rise
. I will be releasing it soon.
Click here to receive an email notice before anyone else

As an independent author, getting my name out to build an audience is one of the biggest priorities. If you enjoyed this book and can spare a couple of minutes now, it would really help me out if you would like to leave me a review - even a short one - on Amazon. Good reviews inspire people to take a chance on a new author - like me.

These reviews help share my work and encourage me to keep writing more and more...

Please click here to leave a review.

I look forward to sharing the next adventures in the upcoming books.

Sincerely yours,

Liam Roth