Zombie Rage (Walking Plague Trilogy 2)

Fortunately, I had a second hand on my wristwatch. I dialed the number Carla had given me. I had one minute.

“Sheriff’s office,” an impatient voice answered. I started watching the seconds.

“I need to talk to Chief Nelson,” I said as firmly as I could.

“He’s busy right now. What can I help you with?” Still, that unconcerned impatience.

“I need to talk to him about what’s going on,” I said. “Look, I have military and police information and I’m calling on a pay phone. I have less than a minute, I’m told. I have to talk to him about the murders and the infected. So, if you want him to have this info—”

“Hang on.” This time, she sounded a little more interested.

Fourteen seconds later, a commanding voice said, “Nelson here. Who is this?”

“This is an anonymous call,” I said quickly. “I have about forty seconds. This is a worldwide pandemic. I understand a couple of your officers have been infected. Bitten. They are not safe; I know they’ve been released.”

“How do you—”

“No time,” I said. “You want to contain them, do you understand me? The military is having problems with this same infection. Your force needs to know that if they come across these...infected people, they have to kill them. Shoot them in the head. The head. That’s the only way to kill them.”

“That’s not proper protocol. Again, who is this?”

“Someone who knows. Someone who cares. Someone who’s gonna help you. I just wanted you to know. The rest is up to you.”

I hung up at fifty-five seconds. I didn’t have time to tell him more.

I put the phone back on its hook and looked around. Sunset Boulevard was a crazy place on the most ordinary of Saturday nights. The streets thronged with people from all ethnicities, genders and backgrounds. Kids having fun, hookers, people in costumes, photographers, and musicians trying to pay the rent and playing for dollar bills thrown in guitar cases. I started walking back to my truck. A police car cruised by and I lost myself in the crowd. They couldn’t be looking for me already. Could they?

I was a little paranoid, anxious. I had to get to Carla and the kids. Anna and Jared. I felt conflicting emotions for Jared. He obviously loved my daughter, but they were so young. Too young for real love, right? Hell, I didn’t know. I guess love was love, no matter the age.

I frowned as I maneuvered myself through the crowds back to my car. Jared’s parents were missing. Brice had told me that earlier in the day. So, where were they? Jared hadn’t mentioned it, and I wondered if he even knew. I also wondered if I should tell him.

Back at my truck, I knew I still had one stop to make before I headed back. Perhaps another decision that changed the course of things. Who knew? But I think I did the right thing.

I drove a mile and took a left on a little-known street. I parked in front of a small shop and entered.

The muscled-up, tattooed guy at the counter gave me no smile. He just waited for me to say something.

“I need four semi-automatics and about twenty clips,” I said simply.

“I can’t sell you that much.” He folded his arms, frowning, daring me to argue.

I flipped out my ranger badge. “It’s an emergency, man,” I told him. “I’m not a fucking gangbanger or drug dealer.” I slipped him a hundred, careful to avoid the multiple cameras monitoring the shop.

He glanced down, then up at me. Sizing me up. I stood my ground. “Shit’s going down. You gotta know that, right? I need a little protection.”

He considered a moment, his hand covering the bill. Then he nodded and went to the back, out of sight. When he returned with the weapons, I asked, “Do you have any handcuffs?”

He blinked, then nodded.

No questions asked.

Chapter Twenty-seven

My detour to the gun store made me late in arriving at the observatory.

By now, the fog was pea-soup thick. I could barely see ten feet in front of me as I made my way up the hill, my anxiety increasing with each step. I saw signs of violence and death. The first was a man who’d had his head blown to bits just a few blocks before the Greek. It was right where Carla had promised to pick up Anna and Jared. I wondered if she had done it or if Jared had.

Mostly, I wondered where the hell my kid was.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

The theater was closed, but I slowed long enough to see several more bodies, scattered. Tire skid marks pointed both ways. Carla had been here. I didn’t know if my daughter and Jared were with her or which way they’d gone.

The street was empty of any vehicles so I threw the truck into park and got out to see what I could see, automatically drawing my own gun. So still, no sound, not a mockingbird, not a coyote, no sounds of any animal whatsoever. That chilled me to the bone.

All of the zombies had been either shot in the skull or killed with blunt force to the head. I took in the obliterated remains of each one and wondered if Anna or Jared had anything to do with this. My Anna. My sweet Anna. I had been worried about her sexual innocence, but a far worse knowledge had been thrust upon her. One of violence.

Thud.

The sound came from behind me. I whirled around to see a man and a woman drudging into view, materializing from the thick fog.

They were not sane. I didn’t think they were even human anymore. They came slowly, methodically, with measured, lurching steps. Hair disheveled, clothes torn. Blood-red eyes, snarling. I knew they wanted one thing. Me.

Specifically, my brain.

I didn’t even think as I fired twice. Once into each head. They fell, but now I could hear the others coming.

I jumped into the truck and sped up the road, hoping I was heading toward Carla, Jared and most importantly, my Anna. And I couldn’t help but wonder how this thing had spread so quickly and so pervasively.

Chapter Twenty-eight

At about the same time on the same evening, former Lieutenant Commanders Joe Carter and Mike Mendoza found themselves locked in a medical facility room at the Seal Beach Navy base, wondering how they’d managed to be tricked by the Agent in Black.

They had indeed cured Cole, the Agent in Black. He had thanked them. After the fright of being drowned, that is. He said he felt more like himself. The two Navy buddies assessed that the red was completely gone from Cole’s eyes, and he seemed coherent.

What they didn’t know was that Cole had almost drowned as a child. He’d gone too far into the deep end of a pool and no one had been paying attention. The event had scarred him for life. The result was that this new experience of drowning was just more than he could take. What he’d gone through for a “cure” had driven him close to the edge of insanity. No, he wasn’t insane, not yet, but he was far from stable.