The Infected (Book 5): Battleground Read online

  The Infected: Battle Ground

  By Joseph “Zombie” Zuko

  This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are fictitious. Any

  resemblance to actual persons, living, dead

  or undead, is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2018 Joseph Zuko

  All rights reserved

  Thank you to Josh McCullough, Linda Kim, Katie Zuko and Pam Anderson for helping me edit my book.

  Thank you to my Mom and Dad for always being so supportive.

  Thank you to Sam for the idea to start writing books.

  Thank you to my wife, Katie Zuko. She cheers me on like I am her local sports team and thank you for not letting me give up on my dreams.

  Dedicated to all three of my zombie loving children.

  Thank you to the fans of The Infected Series.

  Without your support I wouldn’t have had the guts to finish any of The Infected series. You have all changed my life for the better. Your positive reviews and comments kept me motivated to finish these books. Thank you again.

  Cover art by Paul Copeland

  [email protected]

  How this whole damn thing started.

  A short story about Joe Zuko.

  In 1997, I was a freshman in college, had a full time job and had just turned nineteen. I still lived at home with my folks and they told me that if I wanted to start building credit I should go to Sears and get a credit card. I was a man now so I needed to have credit in order to buy things in the future, right? No one wants to marry a man that isn't up to his eyeballs in soul crushing debt. At least that's what I thought back then. I ran down to Sears, applied for a card and got approved for about three hundred dollars. I didn’t need a Kenmore washer and dryer. I didn’t need Craftsman tools. I owned a TV already and computers cost too much. I did the manliest thing I could do and bought a Playstation and the game Resident Evil 2. The game scared the poopoo out of me. I played late at night in my dark room and jumped at every scare. After that I was hooked. Zombies terrified me and I loved it. The idea that anyone could get infected and be turned into a lethal killing machine thrilled me to the bone. Grandma gets bit on the hand and now she can’t be trusted. She wants to eat your face. That’s really, really scary. I don’t care who you are. If Grandma wants to tear out your guts and chew on them, that’s scarier than sharks, chainsaws, dying in your dreams or camping with a maniac. I hope you enjoy reading my nightmare.

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  Character Recap:

  Jim Blackmore - Husband to Karen Blackmore, father of Valerie and Robin. Yesterday he was an average appliance salesman. Now he is doing whatever it takes to keep his family safe from the infected monsters roaming the streets. Armed with his trusty spear and a heart full of determination he fought his way out of Oregon and into Washington State to get home to his loving family. On his way across the city he was aided by his store’s warehouse worker, Devon, a young woman Jim saved in the graveyard, Sara, and the gun expert, Frank. Sadly, Sara is the only one to survive the first twenty-four hours.

  The group was only a mile from Jim’s apartment when they were captured by an organized church run by a man known only as, Brother Paul. Jim’s team was released after they promised Brother Paul one thing: No killing. No matter what, they were forbidden to murder the living.

  A gun battle forced Jim’s team to break that promise. Now they are targeted by a man that is even deadlier than the infected monsters roaming the streets of Vancouver. The group borrowed/stole a fortified school bus and are heading north to Battle Ground, Washington. After his fistfight with Dallas, Jim has more bruises and cuts than anything else. The poor guy couldn’t swat a fly to save his life.

  Karen Blackmore - This stay-at-home Mother of two put up one hell of a fight the day the infection broke out. Armed with only a pistol, she kept her five-year-old and two-year-old out of the hungry zombie’s mouth. Karen traveled across the war zone, Vancouver, Washington with her shotgun toting older brother, Troy, and their wheelman, Leon. The group headed for the safety of Karen’s mother’s house only to find that Penny had been turned into one of the undead. Leon and Troy went searching for supplies while Karen was visited by a nasty crew of men led by a bastard, Eric.

  She fought the son-of-a-bitch tooth and nail, damn near killing him, yet he was able to cling to life for a few more hours. Once he woke up from his head injuries, Eric attacked Karen’s children. Her Mama Bear instincts kicked in and with Frank’s help she was able to save her girls. As she waited for Frank to pull the trigger and end the prick’s life, Karen felt her humanity slipping away. The fight to stay alive has pushed her passed the breaking point.

  Sara Foster – Don’t let this fiery redhead’s age or size fool you. This tough as nails college student can dole out zombie deaths as good as anyone in the group. Whether she’s using her custom bat blade or a rifle, she can hold her own. Jim found her being attacked in a graveyard by four teenagers. Filled with gratitude for the man that saved her and she’s in this fight till the end. In her time at Penny’s house she found herself drifting toward Troy. His rugged good looks and powerful arms were what she needed to calm her rattled nerves. This last battle has changed her opinion on humans. Mankind is one animal she can’t trust.

  Troy – This detail oriented big brother showed up in the nick of time, rescued his sister and his two nieces from a nasty horde of monsters. With a shotgun and two crisscrossing fully loaded bandoliers on his chest, he blasted the heads clean off the growing horde of zombies that surrounded Karen’s apartment. A car crash left them stranded outside a police station. Seeking refuge and help from an officer they ended up finding Leon in a cell. They escaped again in a stolen police cruiser and continued their journey to Penny’s house. Troy and Karen worked together to bury their deceased mother.

  His level headed and calm demeanor is exactly what the group needs as they venture further from the big city. Infected beasts aren’t the only things lurking in the woods.

  Leon – He’s a jack of all trades. You want a perfectly cooked flapjack, he’s your man. You need a car hotwired so you can get the hell out of dodge like a NASCAR star, you call Leon. Karen and Troy found this odd bird locked up in a Vancouver Police station. They sprung him on the promise that he would help them get to their mother. Leon developed a crush on Karen and the idea occurred to him that her husband may never show up. If he played his cards right Leon felt he had a solid chance to ease in there and fill Jim’s shoes. To Leon’s amazement, Jim showed up this morning with a group of people. During the gunfight Leon had Jim in his sights and could have snuffed him out right there. Troy got between them, not realizing Leon’s intent, and inadvertently blocked his shot. “I got time,” was Leon’s final thought on the matter.

  His tone has changed after he realized that karma is swift and cruel in this new world. The idea of snuffing out Jim so he could climb into Karen’s bed has lost its luster. Luckily, they have picked up a newcomer to the group that is unattached. If he keeps his head screwed on right and his foot out of his mouth he might have a shot at the surviving member of Brother Paul’s rescue team.

  Shawna Rollins – Karen gave this church member a choice. Come with them and fix Jim’s sliced up shoulder or stay in a busted up house, all alone. The marathon running and well trained E.M.T. made the smart choice and tagged along with the group.

  Scott – Brother Paul’s trusted I.T. guy and the eyes and ears of the church. He tracks the coming and going of church personnel. He’s a lucky man. He has a front row seat to Paul’s mental breakdown.


  Michael Caruthers – This young Pastor is one of the newest members of the church. He’s also a bit of a germophobe, so fighting a horde of infected humans is an entirely new level of hell. His main role has been to comfort the flock, but being a shoulder to cry on means having someone’s snot and tears rubbed into your shirt. Gross. He wanted more responsibility as a decision maker for the church and he might get more than he bargained for, as harder and harder choices must be made to insure the safety of his people. The only person he would love to comfort is the stoic Doctor.

  Doctor Lindsey Bryant – After twenty-four hours of in depth research she’s come to one profound conclusion. Humanity is totally screwed. She and Brother Paul are currently the only ones aware of this gut wrenching fact. She’s been tasked with keeping up appearances and make it seem as if a cure is on the horizon. Doc has crunched the numbers. She’ll be staring through a rifle scope, not a microscope, by the end of the day.

  Brother Paul – He is a mysterious gentleman that leads a highly organized, religious group located in the center of Vancouver. The church is well stocked with medical and food supplies. On top of that, they are armed to the teeth with automatic rifles. Jim and his crew stumbled upon them by accident and after a tense interrogation about where they were going and what their intentions were, Brother Paul had one final question for them, “Are you evildoers?”

  Even with all his meticulous planning and the stockpile of weapons, his Church came very close to joining the growing legion of infected humans that dominate the population in Vancouver, Washington. Paul has been pushed too far and has lost too many loved ones this morning. His younger brother Eric and the rescue team he dispatched to find him were all sent to meet their maker. Brother Paul blames one man for all his loss. Jim Blackmore. Blinded by hate and a burning desire for revenge, Paul wants one thing, to take his family away and leave him a broken man.

  Chapter 1

  Time ticked slowly as the needle slid through Jim Blackmore’s skin. His vision had gone wonky. As if the surgery was watched on an old tube T.V. Frame after excruciating frame clicked by as if someone hit the pause button again and again to extend his misery. The damn needle was so tiny, but fuck it hurt. It was impossible to turn away. All he could do was watch. There was so much blood. His shirt and hands were soaked with crimson.

  How could all this blood be mine? Jim thought to himself before he passed out, a fevered dream flowered through his brain.

  Lights fade up. Jim found himself alone on a stage. High school students, dressed in formalwear, pointed and laughed from the gym floor. An ocean of shame washed over him as he scanned his body. A pink satin, homemade prom dress, clung to him. His broad shoulders bulged from the spaghetti straps, and two hairy legs led to a set of uncomfortable high heels. Wide feet were crammed into snug pink shoes. A second later he was dowsed with blood. A bucket of sticky goo covered him head to toe. The handsome prom king on his right couldn’t help but smirk. Jim felt embarrassed. Ashamed he let his guard down. The teenaged boy had talked him into this stupid dance.

  Jim realized he was Sissy Spacek, from the movie Carrie and knew what was next. Rage burned inside. Milliseconds away from the slaughter, a pain at his shoulder pulled Jim from the hallucination. He jerked awake in time to watch Shawna cut the black thread. The wound on his shoulder was sealed.

  “Done!” Shawna attempted a smile.

  He groaned. “Second time in two days I’ve been stitched.”

  Shawna dug through a red medical bag in search of gauze. “You did well, now try and get some rest.”

  Jim closed his eyes. He wished he was back home, Karen and the little ones snuggled next to him in their king-sized bed. He was bombarded by a recent memory, flames flickered off a structure fire; their apartment burning to the ground as they escaped into the night. Reality set in. There was no king-size waiting for him at the end of the day. Jim hoped luck would swing their way and maybe the group would make it to his folk’s house in Battle Ground. The guest bedroom, with its super firm queen-size, sounded pretty damn good at the moment.

  I bet Dad has ice cold beer and Mom’s cooked a pot of stew. Jim licked his bottom lip as he fantasized about the meal. The daydream came to a halt. Jim felt the bus skid to a stop. Screams erupted all around him. Gunfire exploded. Jim’s head craned to check out the chaos.

  Sara and Troy knelt on a set of bench seats, guns aimed out the side windows, they emptied their weapons in a matter of seconds. Something slammed into the side of the rig. The impact forced them to dive across the aisle. The shrieks inside the steel tube pierced Jim’s eardrums. The rig rocked onto its driver’s side wheels.

  He fell from the elevated side of the bus and tumbled into the adjacent seat. Jim clutched his wounded shoulder and howled as the war rig crashed back onto all four tires. Shawna rushed to his side and put pressure on the wound.

  “What the hell was that?” Jim’s pale face turned to Karen for answers.

  “A horse!” Karen shouted.

  The blood loss got the better of Jim and he groaned, “Of course. Of course.”

  Karen pulled the terrified little girls close to her chest. The jolt of fear revitalized her. Since they left her Mother’s home, Karen’s focus was clouded by a dark depression. She sat quietly, stared blankly, and tried her best to tune out the constant questions hurled at her by both girls. She appeared broken. More than broken, she was unhinged. Despair swallowed everything that made her human.

  I have taken a man’s life! Played again and again.

  On the ride out of Vancouver, she became acutely aware her existence was going to be split into two halves. The life before and every second after she pulled the damn trigger. The woman she knew and loved was gone.

  What terrified her most was how quickly she came to terms with her murderous actions. The muscle-bound asshole was going to kill Jim. There were no other options. Her back was against the wall. She had to pull the trigger.

  A razor-sharp line was drawn.

  If you fuck with my family, you die.

  Adrenaline got her blood to race through her veins. Self-preservation took control. She snapped out of it and shouted, “Leon, get us out of here!”

  Leon gritted his teeth, “I’m trying.”

  A minute ago, when he rounded the corner, the last thing he expected was a variety of chewed up farm animals straddling both lanes of the highway. He shifted into first and stomped the gas. Rubber shredded against the asphalt, but the bus only moved twelve inches. The plow bolted to the front of the vehicle mushed the spine of a cow. Gore blasted the windshield. He searched the controls, found a lever and tugged it. Water pulsed as the wipers came alive and swiped away the black fluid. Leon checked the mirror above his head.

  Is the new girl watching?

  Nope. Dang, she’s still working on Jim.

  For once in his wretched life Leon wanted to make a good first impression. Leon’s mind glossed over the fact that an hour ago they were trying to kill each other in a shootout or that she was kidnapped. None of that mattered.

  His fantasy looped, and the dream played out perfectly.

  He raced the bus down the back roads of Clark County, zigging and zagging through hordes of infected like a finely tuned muscle car. Minutes later he skidded to a stop. Everyone was safe at Jim’s folk’s house. Jim stepped from the bus and managed to impale himself, ass first, on his own spear.

  In the real-world Leon smiled at that one. He didn’t care it was a recycled idea from earlier.

  Back to the dream.

  Leon leapt from the bus, blasted a pack of infected, slung the rifle onto his shoulder and struck a hero’s pose. Shawna slinked next to him, threw her arms around his thick shoulders. Her lips an inch away from his neck as she whispered.

  “That was amazing. You’re amazing. It would be amazing if you took me to bed, right now.” Shawna’s full lips suck at his skin as her hands moved toward his belt buckle.

  Two things occurred to Leon. First, he needed
a thesaurus to find an alternative for ‘amazing’ and second, his fantasy of becoming a hero was quickly turning into a sandpaper handjob.

  The extra metal welded to the bus caused it to handle like a boat without a rudder. It took forever to stop and twice as long to get back up to speed. Every intersection they crossed was blocked by burnt out vehicles and swarmed with infected. Karen told him to take this old road to avoid the army of dead that roamed North Vancouver, but the narrow highway was curvy and twisted. Now they were stuck on this godforsaken stretch of backwoods with an infected horse attacking them. The chance to impress Shawna shrunk with every second that passed. He pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The R.P.M. needle dipped into the red, but the bus didn’t move.

  Jim attempted to sit forward. His good arm searched for the rifle he had seen clatter under the adjacent bench. The tip of his fingers brushed against the cold steel, but before they closed around the weapon he was forced to the green naugahyde of the seat.

  Shawna pushed him to his back and kept pressure on his shoulder. “Stop moving. You’ll tear the stitches.”

  “I’ve got to help them,” Jim groaned.

  Shawna’s hands moved quickly as she covered his shoulder with gauze. “Let me wrap it first so you don’t bleed to death.” If Shawna was nervous to be on this bus with the group of people responsible for the slaughter of her comrades, she didn’t show it. She had a job to do and it took precedence. Her emotions were a mixed bag. These folks appeared to be good people, forced into a bad situation and at this stage in the game, it was better to be a team player. She glanced to her right. The woman responsible for Dallas’ death was only a few feet away.