Zombie Off 3: Legion

ZOMBIE OFF 3 - LEGION

by Scott Lee

Copyright 2016 Scott Lee

Smashwords Edition

Introduction

This is the third book in the ZOMBIE OFF series. Although you could certainly read this as a stand-alone novel, it would be much better if you read the first two books of the series, ZOMBIE OFF and ZOMBIE OFF 2 - REVELATION, beforehand. Please consider doing this. I refer back to the first two books often, and it most certainly would help you understand and follow the story arcs. The prequel, ZOMBIE OFF - The Beginning, is also recommended. It will give you more insight into the storyline, although it is not a necessary read for this series.

It was supposed to be a simple vehicle retrieval . . . but it became so much more.

While returning from their mission to recover Brian's prized muscle car, the trio of Connor, Doug and Diana come face to face with a new, unspeakable horror. One that threatens to destroy everything they've built. Everything they know.

Faced with an evil beyond anything they could comprehend, the three heroes set off on a quest for answers, and soon find themselves in a race against time. But to lose the race could mean more than just losing their lives. It could mean the end of all humanity . . . at the hands of an unstoppable legion of undead.

Smashwords 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 Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Other Fine Books by Scott Lee:

ZOMBIE OFF - The Beginning

(a prequel short story)

ZOMBIE OFF (Book 1)

ZOMBIE OFF 2 – REVELATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost I want to thank my best friend on this planet, Doug Ward, without whom I would likely have never written this series. If not for his constant pushing for me to pen my ideas, I’d probably still be sitting with just a few notes in a leather journal. Doug is also responsible for all of the fantastic covers of the ZOMBIE OFF series, and for his hard work I am extremely grateful.

Finally, I’d like to thank my many friends and family for the wonderful support given to me through the many months of writing. Your words of encouragement did not fall on deaf ears. Last, but certainly not least, thanks to my wife Chris for supporting me through this ongoing adventure and listening to my endless talk about preparing for the upcoming zombie apocalypse.

ZOMBIE OFF 3 - Chapter 1

Connor's mind drifted as he drove along the quiet backroad, the rumble of the V8 engine purring loudly through the open windows of the muscle car. His thoughts had returned to the beginning days of the apocalypse, as they often did, and he shook his head as he thought of those first 24 hours, laughing slightly with the movement.

What's so funny?, asked Doug, who was sitting in the passenger seat next to him.

Huh? replied Connor, his gaze straying briefly to his friend.

You laughed and shook your head. What's so funny? he asked again.

Oh. I was just thinking about how stupid I was on that first day. When everything went to shit.

What do you mean?

"I mean I did some things that could have and should have gotten me killed."

Like what? asked Doug, his interest peaked.

Saving Brian, for one, replied Connor, his look sobering as he thought of the man who had saved his life. Stopping to help them was stupid. I almost didn't make it. There were people dying everywhere, yet I stopped for two people. Not smart.

Doug looked at his friend and a wry smile crept across his face.

You know, a wise man once told me that everything happens for a reason. If you didn't save them, then you wouldn't be here.

Connor looked at his best friend and smiled.

Smart ass.

Love you too, buddy, said Doug with a chuckle.

Looking over his shoulder, Doug smiled and waived to his girlfriend Diana, who was driving the SUV behind them. Emphatically, she waived back, her wide grin clearly visible from the distance between the vehicles.

You know, you could have ridden with her instead of me, said Connor flatly.

And miss a chance to ride in this beauty? Hell no! he exclaimed.

Turning his attention back to the road, Connor suddenly hit the brakes, quickly downshifting as the car came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the highway. Behind them, Diana veered to the right as she swerved to avoid the suddenly stopped vehicle. Pulling up next to the gleaming green Coronet, she leaned out the window, a questioning look on her face.

What the hell, guys? I almost hit you! Why'd you stop so suddenly?

Doug shrugged his shoulders as he looked back at her, a confused look on his face. Turning to Connor, he started to speak but quickly held his tongue. Connor was staring out the windshield intently, a steel gaze on his face. Doug had seen this look many times before, and it was never a good thing.

Oh shit, muttered Doug. What is it Connor?

Never taking his eyes off of the distant landscape, Connor nodded his head slightly, speaking in a hushed tone, as if whatever had him spooked could hear them.

The birds.

Turning his attention to the distant fields, Doug watched as flocks of birds took to the air in front of them. But it wasn't just one isolated area, for all across the not so distant horizon, the three companions watched as more and more birds took to the skies.

That's not good, said Diana in a worried tone.

Why isn't anything ever easy with us? said Doug, throwing his hands into the air. Once, just once I'd like us to do something without getting totally screwed in the process!

Connor said nothing, his eyes glued to the scene in front of them. As all of them watched, no one needed to say it, for they all knew what it meant. Either a swarm was approaching, or worse yet . . . humans.

Zombies? asked Doug.

No, replied Connor quietly.

Spinning his gaze onto Doug, his tone quickly changed.

We have to go. NOW!

Before the final word left Connor's mouth, Doug was out of the car. Next to them, Diana was already scrambling into the passenger seat as Doug jumped behind the wheel of the SUV.

Worst case scenario, I draw them away, yelled Connor.

Before Doug had a chance to respond, the powerful V8 engined roared to life as Connor spun the car around and waited for his companions. A quick 180 later, and the SUV sped past him. He could see the concerned look on Diana's face as they went by, and he knew her look was justified.

In order to retrieve Brian's prized car, they were forced to venture into another safe zone's territory, which was always dangerous. But to make matters worse, they had to cross Purgatory's boundaries, and that set the danger meter to a much higher level.

The rise to flight pattern of the birds in the distance had indicated that whatever was spooking them was traveling far faster than any zombie was capable of moving. This meant only one thing: bandits were approaching, and chances are they were from Purgatory. With nowhere to hide, Connor and his friends had only one option. Run.

Before every mission, Connor made a point to go over every possibility for things going wrong, and this trip was no exception. In the hours before they had left, Connor discussed multiple scenarios with Doug and Diana, and at the top of the list was an encounter with bandits. They had their preferred route to get in and out of the territory unseen, one that would keep them far removed from the Purgatory home base and on the relative safety of the quiet back country roads. But if the worst case scenario occured and they encountered the enemy, they had an escape plan. One that involved a series of winding backroads, with quick turns onto intersecting roads that would give them ample chance to escape. And if that wasn't enough, and things got dire, Connor would draw them away, giving Doug and Diana a better chance to survive. Getting captured wasn't an option, especially if you were a woman.

Heartless and devoid of human compassion, the inhabitants of Purgatory were as bad as it gets. Doug and Connor had seen this first hand when they were taken prisoner by the group, and if not for Brian's help, Doug most likely would have joined the ranks of the undead.

These men were ruthless to begin with, but since Connor and Brian burned their zombie filled movie tavern to the ground, the gang was on the warpath to find the culprits. Not only did they lose their prime source of entertainment with the fire, they lost five men in the process (thanks to Connor).

But being discovered as the one responsible for the burning of the tavern wasn't of major concern to Connor. He knew that the inhabitants of Purgatory had no way of knowing who had set the fire, as he and Brian were careful to leave no evidence behind. As long as they could get their vehicles clear of their territory, he knew they would be out of harms way, at least for the moment.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

ZOMBIE OFF 3 – Chapter 2

In the hours following the fight in the pond, Jamison had slowly made his was back to the safe house in Phoenixville. He knew he had time, considering the chaos that had unfolded within the Chemcorp complex. It was unlikely that Duke would venture back to the safe house any time soon, but he knew he'd be coming eventually. Of this he was certain.

The hulking man was somehow more deeply tied to Tony than he had originally thought, for he had watched the two walk off together as he stayed hidden in the dark waters of the pond. Logic dictated that they return to the safety of the lab building, at which point they would attempt to regroup. They would wait for the surviving men to return from the failed attempt to take back Morrow's building, and once they had regrouped, they'd look to fortify themselves in the heart of the Chemcorp complex.

There were plenty of supplies in the main part of the facility, so there would be no need to force the issue with the swarm that was wandering the grounds. With so many undead inside the complex, the surviving men would have their hands full. On top of that they'd have to deal with the possibility of an enemy raid on what would be perceived as a vulnerable situation. With all factors considered, Jamison figured he could easily stay at the safe house for a week or more.

During his slow trek back to Phoenixville, Jamison had pondered the events that transpired at the complex. As he went through the incident in his head, he came to a number of realizations. First and foremost, The Seeker was most likely still alive. After emerging from the pond and retrieving a can of ZOMBIE OFF from the wreckage of the pick-up, he had taken a brief moment to scan the area around the water. There was no sign of his nemesis, dead or undead. Somehow he had escaped the zombie infested complex, and this made Jamison angry.

As his thoughts turned to Tony and Duke, his anger grew exponentially. Tony had played him, plain and simple. From the moment the battle had ended along the Schuylkill River trail, Jamison had been manipulated. Somehow, some way, Duke had survived after the group drove off. And somehow Tony had managed to lead the giant gang leader from the city out to the Phoenixville safe house.

The more Jamison thought about it, the more he started putting the pieces together. Tony convincing him to return to the cathedral for supplies. His seemingly curious questions about where they were heading. His eagerness to help with the vehicles and the ZOMBIE OFF after arriving at the safe house. Yes. It all started to make sense. Tony was far smarter than he had given him credit for, and he had greatly underestimated the man. Considering the effort he went through to reunite with Duke, he had just one conclusion. They were brothers. No right hand man would go to those lengths to save his leader, especially not with the prospect of a life relatively free of worry about the undead. But family? That was worth the risk.

Arriving back at the safe house, Jamison wasted no time in retrieving the spare key from under the dumpster on the side of the building. Once inside, he quickly made his way back to his office and headed straight for a metal cabinet in the far corner of the room. Reaching on top, he felt for the small key that he used to unlock the cabinet doors. Inside was an assault rifle and a handgun, along with four boxes of ammunition for each. After quickly checking the weapons, he slung the assault rifle over his shoulder, tucked the handgun into his waistline, and headed for the bathroom. Grabbing a bar of soap, he washed the blood from his face using one of the many buckets of water that sat on the floor of the large room. Next he grabbed the first aid kit from the wall and cleaned and dressed the wounds he sustained in the battle with Duke.

Leaving the bathroom, he moved to the rear entrance door and quickly placed a half dozen cans of ZOMBIE OFF in a pyramid directly in front of the door. Satisfied his makeshift security system was adequate, he headed back to the office and flopped on the bed, laying the assault rifle on the floor next to him. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and began to focus. Moments later, he began to formulate a plan.

Jamison drifted off to sleep as exhaustion overcame him, putting a temporary end to his planning. He had no idea how long he had been asleep when a series of quick knocks on the safe house door roused him from his slumber. Rising quickly from his bed, he grabbed the assault weapon and made his way through the main room, stopping about eight feet short of the door. Standing motionless, he listened carefully, wondering if he might have imagined the noise. Seconds passed and suddenly a fist slammed the door in succession, causing Jamison to jump slightly as the noise echoed through the empty room. Raising his weapon, he trained it on the door, expecting the worst. Seconds later, gunshots rang out from the opposite side of the entrance, followed quickly by a frantic voice calling out in desperation.

Jamison! Are you in there? Open the fucking door, for god's sake!

Three more shots rang out, followed by more desperate pounding on the metal.

Jesus Christ! Open the god damn door! screamed the voice.

Recognizing the voice, Jamison dashed forward, scattering the cans of ZOMBIE OFF across the floor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. In front of him, in the now open doorway, stood a nearly naked Jerome, his back to Jamison as he raised his assault rifle again, taking aim upon the massive horde of zombies that was descending upon him. The closest of the undead were no more than 15' away as he fired off three more shots, the bullets tearing through the skulls of the zombies like tissue paper.

Without hesitation Jamison reached out and grabbed the man by the holstered shotgun that was slung across his back, hauling him inside and quickly slamming the door behind him. Stepping back from the door, the two men raised their weapons simultaneously, their eyes trained on the heavy steel door in front of them. Seconds later, the first of the horde slammed into the metal. Within seconds, a dozen undead fists were pounding on the steel door, the noise echoing loudly inside of the building.

Watch the door! said Jamison calmly. I got this.

A moment later the tall blonde man disappeared down a hallway, leaving Jerome alone at the door. Long moments passed as the horde continued to pound on the door, until suddenly the noise stopped. Lowering his weapon, Jerome took a much needed deep breath, his eyes never leaving the door. Minutes passed as he stood alone in the room, until finally Jamison emerged from the hallway.

Flares and firecrackers? asked Jerome casually.

Yep. said Jamison, a somewhat annoyed look on his face.

Turning to his right hand man, he didn't need to speak to get answers, for Jerome immediately began to explain.

Sorry boss., but . . .

Sorry? interrupted Jamison. "You lead a fucking horde to our doorstep and all you can say is sorry?"

What? You think I did this on purpose? exclaimed Jerome in defense. I was doing just fine until the damn ZOMBIE OFF wore off. Next thing I know I got every dead fuck in Phoenixville closing in on my ass!

Jamison seemed unimpressed as he pointed to the table in the center of the room, indicating that Jerome should have a seat. As the black man moved to the table and sat down, his boss disappeared for a moment into a side room, quickly returning with two cans of beer in his hands. Setting the cans on the table, he pulled up a chair and locked his gaze on Jerome.

Now, tell me everything.

Jerome cracked open the beer, the pressure inside releasing with an audible hiss. Taking a large swig, he looked at the beer can, as if it were a crystal ball. A second later, he began to speak.

It was chaos, muttered Jerome as he ran a hand across his close cropped hair.

When the building went up, the blast knocked some of us clean off of our feet. In the aftermath, many of the new guys forgot the rules. I heard one guy say 'holy shit' as he got up from the ground. The zombies were on him in seconds. The same thing was happening throughout the ranks as men forgot what we told them. The gunshots and the fire had the swarm moving again from the distractions The Seeker had launched earlier., and the area was getting pretty crowded.

There was a slight twitch in Jamison's face when he heard mention of his nemesis, causing Jerome to momentarily stop. Reaching out, the big blonde man took a long, hard swig of beer and slammed the can down on the table, causing some of the liquid inside to splash onto the table. Looking at Jerome, his features relaxed as he took a deep breath.

Go on, he said quietly.

With a slight bit of apprehension, Jerome continued.

Those of us that kept our cool slowly made our way back to the lab building, but some of those men didn't make it either. The grass wasn't 100 percent dry when we made our attempt on the building. It wasn't bad for walking through. Only got the boots wet. But when the blast knocked us off our feet, those in the grass got wet. Not soaked, but wet enough to make a difference in the middle of the swarm. The ZOMBIE OFF failed and they were torn to pieces.

Jerome paused as he remembered the screams of the dying.

When we got back to the labs . . . well, that's when things got interesting, he said, the side of his mouth curling slightly in a brief smile.

What do you mean? asked Jamison, leaning forward in his chair.

Over the course of the next 30 minutes or so, men started trickling in. Our men and those that you brought with you. And one more.

Jerome took a swig of beer and looked directly at his boss, a hardened look on his face.

Tony came back, and there was a man with him. A big man. Hell, the guy was a fucking giant. The second that dude walked through the door it changed everything.

Jamison's brow furrowed as he listened intently.

When the big guy came in, he started barking orders to the new recruits. Within minutes, we had a division of power. Our guys against his. But our men were completely outnumbered. We were given a choice – join him or die.

Jamison drained the rest of his beer and crushed the can in anger.

How did you get out? he asked through clenched teeth.

As soon as that big man started barking orders, I knew that trouble was brewing. And considering you weren't back yet, I had to make a choice. In the ensuing confusion between the ranks, I slipped into a side hall and made my way outside. By that time, the ZOMBIE OFF was nearly an hour old and I had a long walk back. The explosion was drawing the dead to Chemcorp like moths to a flame, which slowed me down even more. By the time I got into Phoenixville, the ZOMBIE OFF was three hours old. Still plenty of time to reach the safe house. Or so I thought.

Taking his last swig of beer, Jerome continued, a pissed off look showing on his face.

I had just reached the far side of the bridge when the first zombie took notice of me. Dammit, Jamison! I should have been good for another hour with the ZOMBIE OFF!

Jamison remained stoic, his expression changing slightly to one of amusement.

"Did you ever test it to see how long it lasts on you? he asked. The stuff works differently on everyone. You know that."

"Hell yes, I know that! But every test subject we had got at least four hours out of the stuff. Why the hell did it fail so quickly on me?"

A wry smile came over Jamison's face at that moment, prompting Jerome to momentarily stop his ranting.

What? asked Jerome. What's so god damn funny?

Jamison leaned back in his chair, a full fledged grin on his face now.

I just realized something, he said calmly.

What? asked Jerome, his irritation showing.

At this point Jamison was actually chuckling as he spoke.

We never tested the stuff on a black guy, he said laughing. Guess we learned something today.

Jerome's eyes went wide as Jamison got up from his chair to retrieve another beer..

No, no, no! HELL no! yelled Jerome, as Jamison briefly disappeared into the next room. You telling me that even in the fucking zombie apocalypse us black people are getting screwed?

Jerome's voice had gone an octave higher as the last words left his mouth. Throwing his hands up in disgust, he slumped back into his chair.

Unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable, he muttered.

Jamison returned to the room and quickly tossed Jerome another beer.

Suck it up and deal with it, said Jamison, the smile disappearing from his face. Just be glad you didn't find out under different circumstances.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever, said Jerome, dejected.

Sitting back down, Jamison cracked his beer, took a swig, and set the can on the table. Leaning forward, his face had