Zombie Attack! Army of the Dead (Book 3)
Praise for Zombie Attack! Army of the Dead
"Army of the Dead is bursting at the seams with treachery, misdirection, and teenage angst. It will engage readers..."
--
SHANA FESTA,
The Bookie Monster
"Army of the Dead is an incredible story. It's filled with constant character development, multi layered plots, romance, intrigue, even some tongue in cheek humor that gave me a few chuckles along the way...a nonstop thrill ride from start to finish."
--
BLOOD, SWEAT & BOOKS
"Sagliani makes the conception of a compelling tale appear effortless. His sense of comedic relief interwoven with rising tension, relatable characters and plot development is the stuff of a veteran story teller that resonates among his audience long after the final chapter."
--
DAVE GAMMON
,
Horror News
"A meaty story, worthy of a read."
--
HORROR AFTER DARK
"A plot that will keep you on your toes at all times! I definitely recommend this series to all zombie fanatics everywhere!"
--
TONI
,
My Book Addiction
"I highly recommend this series to anyone who wants to read a great zombie book, and those parents who are looking for a book for their teen to read. Especially those young men who might not be that into reading. I think they’ll really like this series."
--
LORI
,
Contagious Reads
"I thoroughly enjoyed Army of the Dead - a sequel that definitely did not disappoint."
--
JUSTINE WINANS,
YA Lit Chick
Zombie Attack: Army of the Dead
by Devan Sagliani
Laughing Crow Media copyright © 2014
All Rights Reserved.
Cover art by Christian Bentulan
This
book
is
a
work
of
fiction
.
People
,
places
,
events
,
and
situations
are
the
product
of
the
author’s
imagination
.
Any
resemblance
to
actual
persons
,
living
or
dead
,
or
historical
events
,
is
purely
coincidental
.
No
part
of
this
book
may
be
reproduced
,
stored
in
a
retrieval
system
,
or
transmitted
by
any
means
without
the
written
permission
of
the
author
and
publisher
.
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
“I missed you too, little buddy,” Tank said, his voice like rolling gravel. “I've thought a lot about you since we last met. I've been waiting a long time to catch up.”
I felt the sword slipping in my fingers as fear spiked through me. I'd seen him die. It wasn't possible. But here he was, standing in front of me, a walking nightmare come to life.
It can't be,
I thought.
He was turned into a zombie. I saw it. He couldn't have come back, unless...
“You two sound like you've got a whole lot of catching up to do,” John said, jumping in to move things along. “Tell you what, let's take this little reunion back up to base camp.”
John turned to walk back to the Jeep, but no one followed him. The rest of us stayed rooted in place. Tank stared me down with an icy, gloating smile, while I did my best to hold the katana up and block Felicity from him. The ring of ninjas kept their guns trained on our heads, never letting up for a second. John realized he was on his own, and wheeled around with a practiced laugh like a cheesy villain on a bad television cop drama.
“What seems to be the holdup?”
“He's not disarming, sir,” the head ninja said without hesitation, never taking his eyes off us.
“And I don't plan on disarming,” I reminded them, speaking in a loud, clear voice so I wouldn't have to continue repeating myself.
“If you don't want me to start killing people you care about, you might want to rethink your attitude,” John shouted, his usually honeyed speech slipping as his anger began to undermine his nice guy act. “Now put down the sword and get moving.”
“No,” I said, not taking my eyes off Tank, who burst into laughter.
“What's so funny?” John demanded.
“It's nothing,” Tank guffawed, doing his best to pull himself back together. “It's just he ain't changed a bit. Didn't I tell you? If anything, he's worse than the last time we crossed paths with him. This isn't going to work, John. Why don't you just let me kill him here and now with my bare hands. At least that way one of us will get something out of this, other than a huge hassle.”
Tank began inching in my direction and I brought my sword back to full attention, seeing the ninjas lean in gun first as I moved.
“It is going to work!” John roared. “Playtime is over, kiddies. You can drop the act now!”
I smiled slightly at seeing him come unhinged. I had forgotten how watching him lose control always gave me a sense of satisfaction. It reminded me of what Moto always said. I did seem to have a supernatural ability to get under people's skin when I wanted to. I had also forgotten how dangerous John could be once he was pushed into a situation where his leadership was tested. The mad look in his eyes reminded me, and I began to worry he might try to make an example out of Felicity. Still, I knew that once I was disarmed, any chance we had of ever leaving alive dropped to almost nonexistent.
“You've got us surrounded on all sides by armed guards,” I said at last.
“That's right, Xander,” John said, “so now that you've stated the obvious, let's get moving. I have a lot more to show you and it's gonna be dark soon.”
“So if I tried to do anything, you'd cut us down in a hail of bullets,” I replied, ignoring his instructions again.
“Yeah, that about covers it,” John grumbled in a condescending tone.
“We'll come with you,” I offered, “but I'm not putting my weapon down.” I turned and looked John right in the eye, then looked back to Tank's malicious, grinning, deformed face. “Not while he's around.”
“Come on, John,” Tank groaned. “You gonna let this kid talk like that to you in front of your men? He's the prisoner, and he's making demands.”
“If you give me your word you won't hurt us, I will come with you,” I cautiously continued. “Despite our differences, I feel like I can trust your word. But I'm not going to give up my only chance to defend myself against the man who tried to set me up and murder me. I'd rather die here and now, than come along and have Tank make up some story about how I was trying to escape so he had to twist my head off like a chicken.”
“And what am I supposed to do if you decide to get all brave and try to slice and dice your way out of our friendly little campground?”
“You've got more than enough firepower to turn us both into Swiss cheese if we try anything stupid,” I laughed. “You want me to come along, those are the terms.”
“Fine,” John said without hesitation. “This whole thing is boring me half to death anyway. I forgot what a pain in the butt you are. I've still got a big reveal yet to come, unless you've found a way to ruin that too. Now let's get going.”
“Are you serious?” Tank looked like he was ready to explode in a fit of rage and kill us all.
“Xander will sit up front with me,” John said, ignoring the outburst. “Tank and Haki, you bookend his lady friend in the backseat. I'm done with this conversation. Do I make myself clear?”
There was a dark look that crossed his face with the last sentence like none I'd ever seen before, as if John's true face, his true nature, was shining through. It was scarier than anything Tank had ever shown me. I gulped as acid rose up in my stomach.
“Yes sir,” Tank acquiesced, his face transforming from outrage to stone.
“Good,” John said, still not relaxing. “Let's move on to phase two then. And Haki, let's see how fast we can get word out to our riders to call off the search. We could use the reinforcements back at base camp, despite how much I hate having to share close quarters with biker scum. I wanna make sure the handoff goes as smooth as possible.”
“What handoff?”
“I thought you'd never ask,” John said, flashing me the most wicked, self-satisfied grin I'd ever seen in my life. “Hop on in and I will tell you all about it.”
I was expecting John to launch into his grand plan, but he wasn't ready to tell it just yet. We rode in silence toward the Great Hall where Bryan Crowe had once ruled over a religious cult of thousands, not even a year prior. The last time we'd been here the main road had buzzed with craftsmen working, women cooking, and children laughing and playing. Their functioning community thrived on interdependence, hard work, and the pride of self-reliance that comes from being labeled martyrs. They'd been religious zealots, brainwashed by a charismatic leader strung out on happy juice and group chanting, but they'd also been content with the lives they'd chosen, for the most part. Instead, now those happier sounds were replaced with a growing chorus of hungry moans from the starving masses of zombies tethered to the trees by unyielding metal chains. The closer we got, the more of them there were. I tried to see if I could recognize any of them from my last trip to the promised land of Ojai, but I couldn't make out any familiar faces.