Boom!
The infected fell to the ground as its head disintegrated.
Two more to go.
Dr. Patel was still screaming as the remaining zombies tore into her flesh. Crimson blood spurted from the wounds and sprayed onto the pristine white floor. It overrode the smell of bleach with its coppery tang, and Amy had to fight not to gag. She squeezed the trigger again, and the second infected fell in a spray of bone and brains. I got you!
The last zombie whirled on Amy. It was the infected woman, her mouth wide open as she screeched. Dr. Patel’s blood dribbled from her lips, and Amy’s knees began to tremble. It was a sight from her worst nightmares, and she found herself frozen with fear. “Come on, Amy. You can do this.”
She pulled the trigger just as the zombie launched itself at her. The shot missed, punching into the infected woman’s chest, instead. The zombie woman staggered back with the force of the blast before regaining her balance. With a hideous howl, she sprang at Amy, rapidly closing the distance. Amy was unable to move, and her gun was empty. The parka, with its pockets full of spare shells, was too far away.
A fourth boom rang out, and the infected woman slewed to the side before toppling over a counter. Tara appeared next to Amy and grabbed her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, but Dr. Patel.”
They ran toward the scientist, but it was already too late. Dr. Patel choked on the blood that fountained from her mouth, and half of her face was torn off. Her wild eyes fixed on them, and with foam bubbling on her lips, she said, “Kill me.”
Tara straightened up and pointed her gun at the dying woman. “I’m sorry.”
Amy turned away, flinching when the shot punched through Patel’s forehead, ending her suffering. Then Tara was there, shaking her shoulders. “What happened? Who let them out?”
“I don’t know. I was standing there, and the cages opened by themselves,” Amy said.
Tara squeezed her eyes shut. “Manual override.”
She grabbed Amy’s parka and handed it to her. “Reload your gun and put on your jacket. We’d better get out of here.”
“Why? What’s happening?” Amy asked, her mind still in a daze.
“Someone wants us dead, Amy. Someone with high-level clearance. Did you see anyone else besides Dr. Patel and me?”
Amy nodded. “There was a man earlier. He bumped into me in the hall without saying sorry. It seemed like he was in a hurry.”
“What did he look like?” Tara asked as she shrugged on her parka and reloaded her sawed-off shotgun.
“He was short with thinning hair and spectacles perched on the tip of his nose. Oldish guy.”
Tara’s teeth clenched as she growled in anger. “Dr. Bannock. Damn that man. This is the last time he plays with people’s lives, I swear it. Next time I see him, I’m going to kill him.”
She whirled around and stormed down the passage. “Come on, Amy. We need to find the others. I fear there might be more going on here than we thought.”
Amy obeyed, running after Tara while shrugging on her parka. As they burst through the exit, they paused to look around. It was bitterly cold, and the wind tugged at their clothes and limbs as if it would blow them away.
A touch of ice on her cheek caused Amy to look up at the sky. Snow fell from the heavens, tiny flakes of pure white that whirled about in the breeze. It fell in droves, rapidly growing thicker, and she realized something. The storm had arrived, and they were right in the middle of it.
Chapter 19 - Dylan
Dylan leaned against the doorjamb of the storage room with her arms folded across her chest. She stared out onto the grounds, searching for movement. It was cold, and getting colder by the minute as the wind was picking up speed.
Inside the storeroom, an interrogation was taking place conducted by Alex, Saul, and Nick. She was there to make sure no one stumbled across them until they had the information they needed.
It had taken them most of the day to find Harris, the man who’d tried to murder her inside the lab. After collecting their rations and depositing it at home, they’d begun the search. The first man on the list was easy, and she’d vetoed him without a second glance. Perez. The guy they were looking for was pale-skinned with light eyes, not Latin-American.
The other five were not so easy. When they finally found Harris, it took forever for Nick to lure him to the storage room. The small building was off the beaten track, and with the coming storm, no one was around. The problem was, Harris didn’t want to talk. She glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes past four. They’d better hurry. Tara and Amy would be worried if they didn’t show up soon.
“How’s it coming along in there?” she called over her shoulder. “Any progress?”
The sound of flesh striking flesh sounded, and she flinched without meaning to. Nick approached her from within, fresh droplets of blood splattered across his clothes. He stepped outside and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. With shaking hands, he lit the end and took a deep drag.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Dylan said as the scent of nicotine awoke the craving within her blood.
“I don’t. It belongs to Harris,” he said. “But I could really use one now. Interrogation is not one of my strong points.”
Dylan shuddered. “I can imagine it’s not pleasant. Can I have one?”
“Sure, help yourself,” Nick said, handing over the smokes.
She lit one and sucked on the filter. Acrid smoke filled her lungs, and she coughed. “It’s been a while.”
“We’re not getting anything out of Harris. The man’s like a block of stone. The more he bleeds, the more he laughs about it. Not even Saul can get him to talk, and that man is as tough as nails.”
“Fuck. We need that information. Without it, Major Reed will never take us seriously.”
“If
