Read The Zombie Chronicles - Book 3 - Deadly City (Apocalypse Infection Unleashed Series) Online
Authors: Chrissy Peebles
Tags: #Mystery, #undead, #Horror, #arena, #zombie, #Fantasy, #gladiator, #zombies, #Thriller, #urban fantasy
Tahoe shook his head. “What they did to you was—”
“
Something that happens in horror movies,” I interrupted.
He nodded.
“
We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,” I spat. “How could you let them throw us into an arena like that, unarmed, forced to battle hordes of brain-slurpers? Who does that?”
“
This entire town showed up to watch us get torn to shreds, just for entertainment,” Nick said. “It’s just…sick!”
“
Nick, we both know there’s no love lost between us, and I’ll have to live with what I’ve done. You don’t know how sorry I am.” He paced back and forth in front of the cell, then stopped and looked directly at us. His face was strained as he spoke. “Listen, the vial at the lab has been used up in the testing process. I need more. Give me another one, and I’ll cut you loose.”
Cut us loose? Like he has that kind of authority.
I didn’t believe him for a minute, in spite of the uniform he was wearing.
“
We’re all fresh out,” Lucas said. “Sorry.”
Tahoe rolled his eyes. “Are you saying that’s all you had?”
“
The vial’s empty, isn’t it?” Lucas said.
Tahoe’s voice grew in intensity. “There has to be more! There just has to be! I have just as much to lose as you do. Please tell me the truth.”
I glared. “Your credibility kind of stinks. You killed our friends and—”
Tahoe threw his hands up in the air. “I had no part in that! You can have the bag! I don’t care anymore. Just give me one more vial.”
“
What makes you so sure I know where they are?” I asked.
Nick cocked a brow. “Bag? What bag?” he asked, playing dumb.
“
Maybe the vials grew legs and walked away,” Lucas joked.
“
C’mon! Don’t play stupid with me,” Tahoe said. “I know nobody from this town took that bag.”
“
And you believe them?” Lucas asked. “Boy, I think you’ve been drinking the water.”
“
We had just seen Claire shot,” I said. “We were frantic. The last thing on my mind was hiding a bag of vials. Besides, we didn’t have the time.”
I knew one of the town’s good old boys must have stolen it when they’d searched the truck that night. Suddenly, a thought struck me. Getting out of jail was key, and I thought if I pretended to know where it was, the idiot might free us. We could find the bag using Lucas’s tracking device to get our hands on those vials, then get the heck out of there.
Or maybe we should just leave the bag in fate’s hands.
Val was cured already, and that had been the whole point of our mission.
Maybe we should just bolt while we’re still alive and breathing.
I looked at Nick and winked, hoping he’d catch on and play along. “That does it. We’ve got no choice. We’ve gotta tell him where we hid the bag, man,” I said to Nick. “He might be able to help us. Surely we can spare one vial.”
“
No!” my brother shouted, talented actor that he was. “We can’t have it falling into the wrong hands.”
Lucas caught on quick too. “I’m the one that hid it, and I’m gonna tell him. He’ll never find it without me. I don’t know about you two, but I’m not staying in here to rot—or worse, playing American Gladiators again!”
Tahoe fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. His eyes lit up, and he seemed to hang on Lucas’s every word. “So…where can I find the medicine?”
“
Let us out, and we’ll take you to it,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll figure out a way. Trust me.”
The sheriff burst in, as if on cue. “Open the cell door! I need to question this little punk about his life-saving potion.”
“
No!” shouted Nick. “Leave him alone. Take me!”
“
You’ll get your turn, hotshot.” The sheriff jerked me forward and out the door.
He led me to a white room decorated with several long, horizontal mirrors that I knew were one-way glass. I knew I was being watched from the other side. I’d seen far too many episodes of
CSI
and
Law and Order
for them to fool me.
They sat me down behind a steel table, and the sheriff began to pace. “I need you to answer some questions, murderer.”
The accusation stung, and if he was trying to give me a guilt complex, it was working. I felt so bad for killing Jason. He deserved better than the hand he was dealt. The contaminated water had made him act the way he did, and I wish there’d have been another way. I would live with the guilt for the rest of my life. He was just another victim in this crazy mess.
“Jason…he was acting crazy. Your water is contaminated from the dead zombies in the river. Don’t you get it? You’re drinking poisoned water.”
“
Our water is fine, thank you.”
“
No it’s not! It was why Jason was acting so irrational and moody, why he opened fire into our Jeep, killing Claire, why he knifed Jackie, and why he tried to kill me.”
“
You
killed the mayor’s son!”
“
I know, and I’m so sorry about that. I’m not a murderer. I was just trying to defend myself. He came at me with a gun, and I—”
“
You’re a cold-hearted, murdering dog.”
I about lost it. “I am not! Not at all!” I shouted, walking over to the mirrors. I looked directly into them and screamed, “You all know Jason was acting crazy. He tried to kill somebody last week. Think about it! Even your animals are acting crazy. I met an old man who said his dog went insane over the last two months. If you don’t believe me, I challenge you to give everyone bottled water, including the animals, for one week and see if things change. It will! Then go clean out the river and bury the zombie bodies. Get your river back and quit poisoning your citizens into mass lunacy!” I let out a breath and continued my tirade. “The trial you gave me wasn’t even fair. I’m sorry Jason is dead. If I could go back in time and do things differently, I would. I’m so, so sorry. I wish it would’ve been me! I’m not a killer!”
The sheriff grabbed my arm and walked me back to my seat. “We’re not here to discuss our drinking habits or why you killed Jason. The court has already found you guilty, a unanimous decision, and you’re still scheduled for execution.”
They wouldn’t listen to a word I said. Anger exploded inside of me, and I pounded the table, even though I would have rather beaten the sheriff to a pulp. Granted, my loud rant probably made me seem like the killer they thought I was, but I was so darn angry. Slamming things had always been how Nick and I coped with fury. It was in our DNA. I wanted to flip the table over completely or pick it up and throw it at the one-way mirror, but I resisted the urge. If life ever went back to normal again and I survived that ordeal, I planned on getting help for my anger management issues, but for the time being, I had to suck it up and rein it in the best I could.
“
I want to know about the cure,” he calmly said.
“
It’s a singing group,” I said. “You know…an English alternative rock band that played great music that my mother loves. The one guy wore a lot of eyeliner, I think, and—”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m in no mood for your sarcasm, Dean.” He pulled out the gun and pointed it at me, and my heart pounded as he held it to my temple and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, and I could feel beads of sweat rolling down my face.
“
The vials were in our Jeep,” I said. “I swear to God! If they’re gone, I have no idea who took them or why. Why don’t you give me a lie detector test if you don’t believe me?”
“
We searched your pick-up truck with a fine-toothed comb. There’s no bag—just all that junk you’ve been hauling around. Tell me, Dean. Where are the vials?”
“
I don’t have them! I told Tahoe the exact same thing.”
“
Ever play Russian r
oulette
?” he asked, placing the cold steel against my temple again. “I figure you’re on round two. Your odds go down with every round, you know.”
“
You’re just as crazy as the zombies!”
“
Is that any way to talk to a man holding a gun to your head?”
I tried to bluff my way out. “If you shoot me, you’ll never find out.”
“
You’re of no use to me anymore.” He handcuffed me to the chair—not just one arm, but both of them.
“
What are you doing?” I frantically asked.
“
Playing good cop.”
“
Good cops are supposed to be nice.”
“
Oh, I’m a very sweet guy compared to the bad cop you’re about to face.” He yelled out the door, and two policemen dragged in a chained zombie with scraggly black hair and white eyes, hissing like a ticked-off viper.
A cold shiver washed over me.
I should have known.
“
Seems our bad cop, here, has worked up quite an appetite,” the detective said. “Good luck.”
Chapter 14
The sheriff smiled as the zombie inched toward me.
“
No! Wait! I’m handcuffed.” I wrenched my arms, trying to free myself from the seat, but it was no use. My only option was to try to kick the thing. I had strong legs and planned on using them to the fullest. “Come back!” I yelled to the guards and sheriff as they scurried out the door. The thing smacked his lips, and as he approached, I pulled back my legs, ready to give him the literal butt-kicking of his life. I let out a breath and counted in my head:
One…two…three…
I kicked him with everything I had, and he flew back. The next thing I had to do was break the arm of the chair. Not only would that free me, but I could also use it as a weapon.
The zombie stumbled up like a drunk. I moved my feet into position, ready to dropkick him into next week again, but instead I turned around and ran backward toward it, ramming the thing into the wall. My chair pinned him to the wall, but I wasn’t sure how long I could hold him off. I couldn’t believe I was handcuffed to that stupid chair. The fight wasn’t fair in any way. His arms flailed in the air, and I knew if he got one good scratch into me, I’d be done for. My heart raced as I pressed my weight against the zombie. It hissed, and its teeth snapped. With all my might, I tugged and broke the arm to the wooden chair. Finally, I had a weapon. Gripping the arm tightly, I spun around with lightning speed and nailed the zombie through his right eye. He dropped to the ground with a crashing
thud
.
Stepping back, I cursed and then let out a sigh of relief.
The door creaked open, and I figured the detective would be back, probably disappointed that I wasn’t dead. Holding a breath, I was ready to attack if I had to.
To my surprise, Tahoe walked in, aiming his gun.
“
Don’t shoot!” I said.
“
Are you okay?” he asked, as if he cared.
I rolled my eyes.
He rushed over to take the cuffs off me, freeing me from the chair.
Still skeptical, I pointed to the mirrors. “Wait! Won’t they see what you’re doing?”
“
Don’t worry about them. I drugged their coffee. They’ll be out for hours.”
“
Even the guy who was questioning me?”
“
He’s having sweet dreams in the hallway.”
“
Why are you helping me?” I said.
He met my gaze. “Because I need a favor. I’ll help you on one condition.”
“
Anything,” I said. I wasn’t sure I meant it, but it sounded good anyway.
His eyes narrowed. “I want one vial out of that bag.”
I cocked a brow.
What is with this obsession of his? Why does he want it so badly?