Rotter World (34 page)

Jennifer withheld fire until the two coming after her lessened the range, not wanting to waste ammunition. She carefully lined up her shot on the first swarmer, a young sergeant who used to flirt with her when they were confined to the facility. The .357 round blew its head clean off its body, the concussion knocking it over backwards. Before the body even hit the ground, she switched her aim to the second swarmer. Since it was too close to line up the shot, she fired off two rounds in rapid succession. The first missed, but the second punched a neat hole in its forehead. A spray of blood and gore blossomed from the back of its head. Although permanently dead, momentum continued to drive it toward Jennifer. She dodged to the left at the last second, letting the body slam against the wall beside her within a meaty thud.

Robson concentrated on the two swarmers that lunged for him. He raised the AA-12 and fired off a three-round burst. The bullets slammed into the closest one, tearing off its right shoulder and head, and propelling the mangled corpse to the rear. It fell against the second swarmer, knocking it off balance just as Robson fired a second three-round burst. All the rounds slammed harmlessly into the opposite wall. The swarmer snarled and charged. Robson pivoted, reacquired aim, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened except the sound of the hammer striking an empty chamber.

He raised the AA-12 horizontally in front of him as the swarmer darted the last few feet between them. The move saved him, but only for a moment. It crashed into Robson, shoving them both against the wall. Only the length of the shotgun pressed against the swarmer’s chest prevented it from getting to him. It pushed against the weapon, its teeth frenziedly snapping precariously close to Robson’s face. He could smell the rotting contents of its stomach through its open mouth. Robson felt the strength in his arms giving out.

Jennifer stepped over and placed the barrel of the Magnum against the swarmer’s temple. It turned to face her and growled just as she pulled the trigger, exploding its head across the lab. The torso remained erect, still pressing against Robson. He jerked the AA-12 forward, toppling the headless body to the floor.

Robson fell back into the wall and slid to the floor. For the first time since he had encountered the living dead, he began shaking, his nerves frayed to the breaking point.

Jennifer knelt beside him, gently rubbing a hand across his scalp, pushing away the sweat. “Relax. It’s all over now.”

“What if there’s more out there?”

“Then we’re screwed.” Jennifer flipped open the chamber to the Magnum and emptied the six spent shell casings into her hand.

* * *

“I’m out,” yelled Ari as she fired off her last round.

“Me, too,” chimed in Amy.

Fuck, thought Natalie. There were still twenty-one rotters left. At least that number was somewhat manageable for what would happen next.

“All right, Angels.” Natalie withdrew the crowbar from the pouch that dangled off of her belt. “This is the part where we get close and personal.”

The other girls withdrew their melee weapons. Natalie studied each of them. A few like Emily and Sandy had already placed themselves in that psych-out zone for hand-to-hand combat. The rest looked tired and resigned to their fate.

“A couple of more minutes and it’ll all be over.” It sounded lame even to Natalie, but it was the best pep talk she could come up with at the moment. She brandished her crowbar like a baseball bat. “Let’s rock.”

The Angels waded into the rotters.

Natalie stepped up to the closest one, a woman in a business suit, its white shirt ripped open to expose a chest denuded of skin or breasts. She swung the crowbar, the curved end catching the rotter where the jaw connected with the skull, shattering the bone and knocking its head to the side. When it turned back, its mouth draped open at an inhuman angle, the jaw attached only by the still intact tendons on the right. It chewed at her with its upper jaw, the bottom dangling uselessly. Natalie spun the crowbar around in her hand and jammed the straight end up through its palate. The rotter jerked for a moment. Congealed blood and brain matter dripped down the crowbar’s shaft, and then the creature went limp. Natalie shifted the angle of the crowbar so it pointed down, allowing the rotter to slide off the metal and drop to the ground. She paid no attention to it, concentrating instead on the two closing in on her.

Sarah came to her defense, holding her machete above her head. She brought it down as hard as possible on the first rotter’s head, cleaving down to the nose. The second, a fat shirtless man with no arms, ignored Natalie and lumbered toward Sarah. She tried to remove the machete, but the blade was lodged in the first rotter’s skull. As the armless rotter approached, she kicked out with her right leg, shattering its knee cap and dropping it to the ground. Sarah placed her foot on the first rotter’s chest and pushed back, wiggling the machete in the process. The blade came free with a slurp, spilling chunks of brain across the rotter’s scalp. By now the armless rotter had crawled up to its good knee. Sarah spun around, swinging the machete in a long arc that sliced off its head.

Natalie passed Sarah and patted her shoulder in thanks. It was all she had time for. Around her, the rest of the Angels were hacking their way into the remaining horde. Emily was gutting a rotter in a nurse’s uniform with her hunting knife. Tiara hammered repeatedly on another’s skull with her crowbar, continuing the assault even after it dropped to the ground. Doreen had plunged her crowbar through the left eye of a rotter, twisting it around to scramble its brains.

Amy raised her crowbar and swung at a rotter wearing the orange vest and yellow helmet of a road worker. She misjudged, missing it by an inch. As her right arm passed in front of it, the rotter grabbed it. Before she could respond, it leaned forward and sunk its teeth into her leather jacket. Amy screamed and yanked her arm away, expecting to see chunks of torn flesh. Instead, she ripped a dozen teeth out of the rotter’s mouth.

Josephine ran up to Amy, shoving her crowbar deep into the rotter’s mouth. “Were you bit?”

Amy frantically felt around her arm, fearful of feeling blood. All she found were a few teeth stuck into the leather. “Thank God, no.”

“Good.” Josephine jerked the crowbar to the right, tearing off the rotter’s jaw.

Amy joined in, clutching her crowbar in both hands and driving it through the rotter’s skull, venting her fear and anger. She lodged the metal in it so deeply she couldn’t dislodge it.

Ari made her way into the swarm, her crowbar drawn back to swing. She suddenly froze. In front of her shambled the rotter mother with its baby clutched to its chest, feeding off of the flesh of its dead mother’s breast. The mother rotter reached out its free hand and grabbed for Ari. Ari couldn’t bring herself to kill it. She stood motionless, knowing she was about to die.

“Leave her alone, bitch.” Leila rushed to Ari’s defense, coming at the rotter mother from the side and driving the end of her crowbar into the side of its skull. Leila continued shoving, plunging the metal deeper into its head and pushing it sideways until they both crashed against the tunnel wall. She twisted the crowbar from side to side, scrambling the brain. The rotter mother finally went limp. Leila let it slip down the wall and waited until it had collapsed, then placed a hand on its chest while she used the other to remove the crowbar.

Suddenly, Leila screamed. She dropped the crowbar and stood up, holding her hand. The rotter baby was attached to it, biting down on her small finger. Blood flowed from around its tiny mouth. Leila flicked her hand, tossing it to one side where it landed in a heap on top of its mother. Leila fell to her knees, staring at the wound in shock. Natalie rushed over to check on her, holding Leila’s hand by the wrist and examining the bite. The wound wasn’t deep or large, and in fact, it had only broken the skin in one place. But it was more than enough to infect her. Leila looked up at Natalie, her eyes pleading that it would be all right. The look on Natalie’s face told her the truth.

Ari stepped over to where the rotter mother lay. The baby crawled toward her, making it only a few feet before being held back by the decayed umbilical cord. It stared up at her and wailed. Ari raised her foot and crashed the boot down on its head, crushing it with one blow. She turned and joined Leila, sitting beside her friend and hugging her.

“I’m so sorry,” Ari finally sobbed.

“It’s not your fault.” Leila clutched Ari’s arm. The two women rocked back and forth.

As the rest of the Angels took down the last of the rotters, each one came over to check on Leila. They knew without asking that their worst fears were coming true. No one spoke. They just stood around to be there for their friend, enjoying the last moments with her.

Chapter Fifty-four

The survivors stood in a semi-circle by the tree line opposite the tunnel’s entrance. Behind them sat the Ryder, the school bus, and the two Humvees, their engines idling and their headlights illuminating the area.

After the battle with the rotters, everyone had moved quickly to hit the road. Amy’s eye was badly swollen and inflamed by the wasp sting and she was forced to wear a patch. But they had treated it in time, so with luck she wouldn’t lose the eye.

Even more fortunate, in his haste to escape the compound, Compton had not destroyed the other two briefcases containing vials of the vaccine. Jennifer administered one dose to all the humans in the group. The two briefcases were loaded one each aboard the bus and the Ryder to help ensure at least some of the vaccine would make it back to camp.

No one even attempted to clean up the facility. The two research labs were left alone, with the bodies of the swarmers scattered around. The tunnel could not have been picked up if they had tried. Four hundred corpses littered the main half of the tunnel, rotting in a pool of congealed blood that seemed to ripple because it teemed with so many maggots. The only bodies they picked up were those of their fallen comrades — Daytona, Tatyana, Caylee, and Leila. Compton and Thompson were nothing but a pile of charred bones. No one bothered to cover O’Bannon’s mangled corpse, although Robson did put a bullet through its head to make certain it didn’t reanimate.

Now the group stood around the graves of their four friends. Mounds of dirt marked their final resting place by the trees, each bearing a makeshift cross made of wooden slabs lashed together at their crossing. Even Tatyana’s grave bore one. Despite her being one of the undead, somehow it didn’t seem right to not give her the same respect as the others.

No final words were spoken aloud. There was nothing to be vocalized. Everyone said their own private goodbyes.

Robson assumed most also tried to exorcise their own personal demons. He saw it in the faces of those standing around the graves. They appeared tired, sullen, defeated. The confidence the group had displayed when leaving Camp had been shattered between the betrayal by their own and the onslaught of the rotters. The survivors, especially the Angels, had stared into the face of living death closer than they ever had before, and had walked away with deep wounds to their psyche. None of them would ever be able to deal with this rotter world the same way again.

After several minutes, Robson broke the silence. “Okay, people. Mount up. It’s time to head back.”

One by one, the members of the group stepped away and headed to the vehicles. Dravko stepped forward, kneeling down and touching Tatyana’s grave, and then he and Tibor walked over to the Ryder. Ari removed her mermaid pendant from around her neck and draped it over Leila’s cross and whispered, “I’ll never forget you.” Wiping a tear from her eye, she joined the others.

Robson and Natalie were the last to leave.

Just before boarding the school bus, Natalie motioned toward the tunnel entrance. “We left the blast door open. Shouldn’t we lock it before we go?”

“No,” Robson said firmly. “Leave it for the rotters. They deserve it. There’s nothing but death in there.”

Natalie boarded the school bus and climbed into the driver’s seat. Robson made his way to the Humvee that would serve as the point vehicle.

The convoy crossed the facility’s grounds and passed through the main gate. At the end of the access road, Robson turned left onto the main street. Each of the other vehicles followed. No one bothered to look back.

Once on the main street, the convoy gained speed, leaving Site R behind them as it began the long journey home.

Acknowledgements

Though it sounds strange when talking about a zombie novel, I did try to keep the book as true to reality as possible. I’m grateful that while researching
Rotter World
I picked up Jonathan Maberry’s
Zombie CSU:
The Forensics of the Living Dead
, his analysis of how a zombie outbreak might unfold. It provided unique insights when creating my living dead world.

A debt of gratitude goes to Permuted Press, especially Jacob Kier for offering me this great opportunity. Felicia A. Sullivan, my editor, worked closely with me to tone down some of the more sexually graphic scenes and tighten up the manuscript. I appreciate her professionalism and friendship; however, any errors in the final product are mine to own.

I would be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to Zach McCain for his excellent cover art.

I am grateful to my readers – Paulette, Alison, and Kathleen – for reviewing the first cut and providing their honest feedback.

As always, a special thanks to my family and friends who tolerated the long hours I spent in front of the computer, especially my house rabbits. I realize every attempt to chew through the power cord was a cry for attention. To all of you, thanks for sharing me with the living dead.