Slow Burn: Bleed, Book 6 Read online

  Slow Burn

  Bleed

  Book 6

  A novel

  by

  Bobby Adair

  http://www.bobbyadair.com

  http://www.facebook.com/BobbyAdairAuthor

  Cover Design and Layout

  Alex Saskalidis, a.k.a. 187designz

  Editing & Proofreading

  Cathy Moeschet

  Lindsay Heuertz

  Linda Tooch

  Weapons Consultant

  John Cummings

  eBook and Print Formatting

  Kat Kramer

  Previously, in Slow Burn:

  Book 1 – Zero Day

  Zed Zane wakes up hung over one Sunday morning and begins to fortify himself with vodka before going to his mother’s house for lunch – and to beg for rent. There, he finds his mother and a neighbor dead, and his stepfather in full-throttle, crazed cannibal mode. Zed, fighting for his life, kills his stepfather in a scuffle, during which he sustains a nasty bite wound.

  He tries calling 911, but the line is perpetually busy. That’s strange, but no stranger than the way that Zed is beginning to feel. He spends the next two days unconscious with a raging fever, and awakens as what soon becomes known as a “slow burn,” a carrier of a virus that destroys higher brain function and turns people into vicious, flesh-eating monsters.

  Together with Murphy, a fellow slow burn who escapes with Zed in the aftermath of a prison riot following his erroneous arrest for the murder of his parents and their neighbor, we follow Zed on his quest for shelter, resources, and a plan for living in the strange new world in which he finds himself.

  Although Zed himself has not “turned” completely, as have most of the other infected, the ambiguous, not-immune-but-not-dangerous category in which he finds himself will from this point forward direct his every thought and step if he is to survive.

  Book 2 – Infected

  Book 2 – Infected finds Zed, Murphy, and their traveling companion, Jerome on the move again following what proves to be a brief respite in a university dormitory, in the company of some extremely, albeit justifiably, paranoid ROTC students and three coeds, one of whom befriends Zed. In the process of stealing a Humvee, Jerome is shot by soldiers and Zed and Murphy head on alone to find Murphy’s family.

  With Murphy’s mother dead and his sister missing, their next stop is a house rumored to feature an underground survivalist bunker, where another surprise awaits.

  Book 3 – Destroyer

  Book 3 – Destroyer finds Zed saying goodbye to one friend and pressing forward with two new ones to whom we are introduced in Book 2 – Infected. Mandi, whom Zed and Murphy rescued from the bunker, is immune to the virus. Russell, whose home the others plundered in search of food and other supplies, is also a slow burn, but lower-functioning, childlike and docile.

  After seeing the carnage at the dormitory, a raging, vengeful Zed wants only to kill Mark, his nemesis and the former leader of the ROTC squad. Since Mark has disappeared, Zed unleashes his fury on untold numbers of infected in his path as he makes his way back to the hospital, in an attempt to rescue Steph, a nurse whom he befriended while seeking help for the feverish Murphy shortly after the prison riot. But the brave medical staff, holed up on the tenth floor of the hospital, and running out of provisions, has decided to take matters in hand by exposing themselves to the virus, and shooting those who “turn.” Zed is determined not to face another loss, but once again, time is running out…

  Book 4 – Dead Fire

  Book 4 – Dead Fire picks up following an infected attack on Sarah Mansfield’s fortified house, during which 3 people seek shelter with Zed Zane and his fellow survivors. In the confusion, however, Murphy is gunned down, and an unthinking, emotional Zed strikes out to enact revenge. Unfortunately, the shooting and commotion have only attracted more Whites. A diversion plan emerges to rid the horde of the Smart One trying to figure a way through the gates, and lead the other infected away from the compound. Momentarily safe, the survivors turn to the matter of where to bury the dead. Zed, being now the only one available who would not attract the attentions of the infected, accompanies Freitag on this morbid mission. In short order, Zed is once more embittered and hardened against trust, when he finds himself stranded. After a series of developments that prove the Whites to be more formidable foes than he ever dreamed, he finds his way back to Sarah’s house to find the compound overrun with infected and his friends mysteriously vanished without a trace, leaving Zed to rely once more solely on his wits to survive…

  Book 5 – Torrent

  Following his none-too-soon reunion with his friends at the safe house, Zed is hoping things can finally fall into a stable routine, but in post-virus Austin, things are far from stable. On a mission to raid the ammunition bunkers at Camp Mabry, Zed and Murphy spot a group of the newer, naked infected, who are exhibiting some sophisticated and disturbing new behaviors, such as scouting and hunting – for them.

  After a narrow escape, the two pass the home of Mr. Mays on the return trip, stirring Zed’s predictable rescuer impulse. Finding Mr. Mays dead, Zed brings fellow chain gang escapee Nico along to join the group, whose numbers have grown again, thanks to their merger with the girls on the riverboat, where the group has moved, as seems to be the safest hiding place… Or is it?

  Chapter 1

  The sound of ten thousand wild apes was on the wind. It drifted over the terrain on an unsteady breeze. It floated over us and disappeared, only to come back. The naked horde was near. Where, we weren’t sure.

  At the end of the dam, Murphy looked at me and said, “Well?”

  “Bon Jovi concert?”

  Murphy bit back a laugh. “It’s nice when you take that stick out of your ass. You’re almost a funny guy.”

  “Sounds like envy talking, to me.”

  The moon was on the rise and its light gave us a view of Lake Travis’ water level—well above normal. A park spread across a peninsula to our right. Picnic pavilions down near the water’s edge were partially submerged. Waves lapped over their concrete benches and tables.

  Pointing almost directly north, across the base of the peninsula, I said, “If we cut straight that way, we’ll be in the woods that run along the shore.”

  Murphy had no preference on direction, though he swiveled his head, trying to find the location of the horde. “Okay.”

  “I don’t know if you ever came out to Lake Travis much…”

  “Can’t swim.”

  “Yeah.” I continued to point across the park. “The shore of Lake Travis is mostly a series of peninsulas separated by inlets that used to be canyons or creeks flowing down to the Colorado River.”

  “It’s like I’m back in seventh-grade geography.”

  I ignored Murphy’s comment. “And most of the inlets have marinas in them. Where there’s no marina, there should be plenty of private boathouses. I’m betting we won’t have to walk far to find a boat.”

  “Sounds good.” Murphy looked off in the direction that the sound of the horde seemed to be coming from. “What about them?”

  “Don’t know. The way the sound bounces around the hills, I can’t tell from one minute to the next where they are. What do you think? Should we go back across the dam and try the other side of the lake?”

  Murphy looked back along the road across the top of the dam. “They could be over there too. Until we actually see ‘em, we’re not gonna know where they are for sure. I’d say let’s stay close to the water on this side. If we need to escape, we just go in.”

  I pretended a double take. “You want to go in the water?”

  Murphy said, “I can’t swim, but I’m not neurotic about it. The water’s calm, so if I have to wade in chest
-deep to keep from getting eaten by a bunch of those skinny bastards, it won’t bother me a bit.”

  I looked across the park. Nearly all of the dense cedars had been cut down, leaving only the big oaks. Despite the moonlight and shadows, I was able to see most of the park. I didn’t see any infected moving about. I could only hope they weren’t squatting in the deep shadows. “Let’s cut across the park, get on the other side of that cove over there, and start following the shore. It’ll take longer to get where we’re going, but it’s the safe play. You’re right, having the water as an escape route is a good thing. Besides, we might come across a stray boat along the way.”

  “Rock on, brother.”

  Keeping a vigilant eye all around, we followed the road as it curved off the dam. We turned right onto the paved park road and descended as quietly as we could while the pavement changed from smooth asphalt to crunchy chip seal.

  Murphy leaned in close and whispered, “In this light, you damn near glow.”

  I looked down at my arms and legs. He was right. I frowned. Anyone or anything in the shadows would easily see us.

  Murphy grinned. “At least when the Whites see us, they’ll think we’re just like them.”

  I shrugged. He was probably right about that.

  “Maybe they won’t fuck with us.”

  It was a valid hope.

  We followed the road down past the ranger’s booth. Nobody was there to take our fee. I smiled at the thought of getting into the park for free, probably just a manifestation of my over-developed aversion to authority. Near the edge of the water, the road traced the curve of the cove on the north boundary of the park’s peninsula.

  The sound of the Whites seemed to fade as we followed the shore. The thing we didn’t take into account, not really, as we walked along with the lake on our right, was that the hill rising to our left deflected most of the howls and cries above us, making the voices of the infected seem more distant than they actually were.

  At the tip of the peninsula, as it started its curve back around to the next cove, the hill that ran the length of the peninsula was cut off, forming a cliff that grew to thirty or forty feet above the level of the water. Before starting up the hill, I asked, “If we go up there, we might find ourselves having to jump off. Are you afraid of heights?”

  “I’m afraid of depths.” Murphy said, as though his meaning was perfectly clear.

  “Depths?”

  “You know, how deep will that water be when I splash down? Seems that if it’s deep enough for me to jump in without getting hurt, it’ll be over my head and I’ll drown.”

  “You need to learn to swim.” I looked up the face at the highest point on the cliff. “Let’s take it real slow. If we hear or see anybody, we can run back down before getting in the water.”

  With a nod, Murphy said, “Works for me.”

  The light from the moon grew brighter and whiter the further up it moved in the sky. Shadows shortened, and it became easier to see between the trees and understand the shapes we saw in the shadows around us. Out across the lake, the pale limestone walls of the old church at the peak of the hill on Monk’s Island stood out prominently against the dark green and black background on the far shore.

  “We’ll be there soon enough,” Murphy whispered, seeing that I was looking more toward the goal than watching for dangers.

  As we neared the top of the hill, the sound of the naked horde grew exponentially louder, and it became apparent that they were somewhere down on the other side. I stopped, squatted, and looked back at Murphy. In a soft voice, I asked, “You hearing what I’m hearing?”

  “Yup.”

  “Should we go back?” I asked.

  “To go back is to go all the way around the lake.” Murphy thought about that for a moment as his gaze followed the tall pale-colored dam standing high above the surface of the lake to where it merged with the far shore. “Or we cut through the woods and hope we don’t run into them somewhere out there.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  Murphy nodded his head in the direction leading just over the crest of the hill. “They’re over there. There’s no doubt about that. But it doesn’t sound to me like they’re that close. Maybe they’re across the water, on the next peninsula over. If that’s the case, we might find a boat just down there in the water, and we’re home free.”

  Stalling while I thought about it, I scanned the shadows through the thick cedar fronds. Usually, it was me rushing in with half a plan and my balls in my hand. Suddenly finding myself in the role of advocating the cautious path felt awkward. “Or there are a hundred of them squatting in the shadows just over the ridge and getting ready to eat us for dinner.”

  “Here’s what I think.” Murphy patted a big hand across his M4. “We’ve got these. We’ve got suppressors. We’ve got lots of ammunition.”

  “Murphy, you know as well as I do that I can’t hit a damn thing I shoot at anymore.” My frustration over that recent development came out in my tone.

  “Don’t get all bitchy on me, dude. The Murphy’s got a plan. We’re not going to shoot at anything far away, just Whites that happen to be coming at us. With our suppressors, that’s kind of a safe thing for us. Sure, every White close by will come at us, but not every single one within a mile. Wear your gun down on your hip, like they do in the movies. Don’t aim. Just point and shoot. When they get close enough, you’ll hit them. You’ll use up lots of bullets, but as long as you reload in a hurry, they’ll never lay a hand on you.”

  “And you think that’ll work.” I wasn’t sold.

  Murphy grinned. “Sure it will.”

  Murphy held his rifle up. “Look at the way I’m supporting the barrel with my left hand right now. See how I have my index finger pointing parallel to the barrel?”

  “Looks awkward,” I said.

  “It’s a night firing technique. You don’t aim. You just point your finger at what you want to shoot and you hit it. It’s supposed to be a more natural mental process, I mean pointing your finger rather than aiming your gun.”

  It sounded like a lie, but what the fuck. I put my pistol in its holster and sheathed my machete. It took a moment to get my sling adjusted. I stood up, and feeling like a silent Rambo with both hands on my rifle, I practiced the grip and the movement.

  “At least you look cool.” Murphy chuckled softly.

  And I felt pretty cool, too. I only hoped that I could hit something before it was close enough to bite me. “Let’s go.”

  With slow, silent footsteps, we crested the hill. The wide mouth of the cove was visible down through the trees. Wide implied deep, and that implied a marina might be off to our left somewhere, out of sight. Taking alternate looks into the trees, down the hill along the edge of the cliff, and across the wide mouth of the inlet, I didn’t see any white bodies glowing in the moonlight. The sound of the howling and hooting made it clear that the horde was close.

  Halfway down the hill, a giant chunk of limestone jutted up to our left like a daredevil’s motorcycle jumping ramp, its highest point just above the height of the trees that grew out of the hill at the foot of the ramp.

  I turned to Murphy and pointed up the ramp.

  He looked up, thought about it for a second and nodded. “Careful, though. I’ll bet we’ll be able to see the whole cove from up there—”

  I interrupted, “But anything in the cove will be able to see us.”

  He nodded.

  Double-checking the shadows in the trees to my right and left, I started my slow walk up the limestone ramp. At first, the soil was thick enough to support the growth of grass, but by the time I was halfway up, the soil had thinned to nothing. I sank to a crouch. The crouch became a crawl on my hands and knees, and at the top, that turned into a belly crawl. I poked my nubby-haired white head over the edge, silhouetting myself against the dark sky behind, hoping I’d go unnoticed.

  Murphy scrambled up beside me.

  Just below us, a dense canopy of cedars a
nd oaks blanketed the slope all the way to the water’s edge. A crooked finger of an inlet a few hundred feet wide and a half-mile long cut back between the hills. Down at the end of the cove, the trees gave way to a solid mass of naked, angry white bodies covering the shores, roofs, and docks—the horde. They howled, they jumped, and they grasped. They were frustrated about the expanse of water that separated them from a ski boat floating in water down near the end, trapped there by a shamble of floating docks. Those docks appeared to have detached from their moorings during the flooding and jammed themselves together to form a floating barrier across the width of the cove. And that barrier was covered with hundreds of bald-headed Whites.

  Those people trapped in the ski boat had to be normal.

  “We can’t do anything to help those people.” Murphy looked down at his watch before whispering, “I’ll give you thirty seconds to lay your Null Spot bullshit on me before we get out of here.”

  Without looking at him, I said, “Fuck you, Murphy.”

  “Time’s a wastin’.”

  I pointed to our right. “Look over there. I see three boats close enough to shore that we can get one. They’re all probably far enough away from the infected that they won’t notice.”

  In a tentative tone, Murphy said, “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “I know that’s not all.”

  I shook my head and flatly replied, “Maybe if we float out close to the docks, shoot a few Whites, toss a few hand grenades, we can give those people a chance to get out.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “We’ll be in the boat,” I said. “We won’t be in any danger.”

  “You know it won’t work out like that, right?”

  “Don’t be such a pessimist,” I told him.

  “Fine, but if I get bit—“

  “Yeah, I know,” I said flatly. “You’re going to punch me in the face.”

  Murphy grinned. “You’re my favorite, Null Spot. I’d never punch you in the face.”