GUNNER: A Forsaken Riders MC Romance: Alpha Male Biker Club Bad Boy Romance (Motorcycle Club New Adult Contemporary Short Stories) (124 page)
Authors: Samantha Leal
Jack Godwin had slipped into the shadows when the first shots were fired. Under the guise of a travel writer he'd spent the past two weeks analyzing Tortura's political climate for the
National Security Agency
. Unfortunately the situation had come to a head much faster than the NSA had anticipated. He was hammering out a message on his iPad, which was in truth a highly classified cipher device, when he heard them coming. A second later two soldiers rounded the corner dragging a screaming young woman. Jack instantly recognized Fawn, the young porn starlet. He had strict orders to avoid any confrontation and to simply report the situation, but Jack knew what was about to happen to Fawn.
Jack shot forward, launching a straight punch into the first man's windpipe, dropping him instantly. The second man tossed Fawn aside… a mistake that left him wide open to attack. He tried to raise his rifle but Jack had already closed the gap, delivering a hammer fist blow down onto his nose. There was a soft crunch of cartilage, but the soldier still remained on his feet. He lashed out blindly until Jack grabbed him in a wrestling hold. Cradling the soldier's head in his arms, Jack twisted his neck sharply. With a sickening crack the soldier fell lifeless to the ground. The first man was still squirming on the grass, unable to breath. Jack didn't waste any time on him, knowing he'd choke to death within minutes.
He picked up an AK and as many clips as he could quickly gather and turned to Fawn, who was cowering on the ground, knees drawn tightly to her chest, her mind overwhelmed. Jack knelt down, taking her hand. She looked at him with dazed eyes.
"You're safe now… everything will be okay," The calm tone of his voice registered enough to get her moving. Jack had lied… they were very far from okay. Hearing more soldiers approaching Jack pulled Fawn into the nearby dining hall.
Scavenging through Talin's hut Cass found a wicker picnic basket, and quickly improvised a shoulder strap from a discarded rifle. She tucked Talin's head inside, hoping he could breathe… then wondering if decapitated head's needed to breathe anyhow. Within minutes she was barreling down the coast road as fast as the aging Vespa could go. About a mile from the resort she made out people standing in the road ahead.
Cass realized they were soldiers just as they opened fire. Bullets zipped past her as she veered off the road, dumping the bike in the soft sand. She felt dazed but otherwise unhurt. Talin's basket had come lose, and she crawled through the sand searching for him.
"Talin! Where are you?" She whispered.
"Over here," He replied, spitting out a mouthful of wet sand.
She brushed him off, then crouched silently, clutching the AK-47 she had picked up and brought along. Cass knew it was almost useless against the zombies, but holding it made her feel safer. The soldiers didn't come after them.
"They must think they killed me." Cass whispered, crawling towards the road for a better look. The soldiers were corralling a group of prisoners; innocent locals who'd been deemed "troublesome."
"Oh god no," Cass whispered, closing her eyes. She'd seen this type of brutality before.
Shots rang out as the first prisoners were executed. She heard other innocents pleading for mercy… and more gunfire. The begging ceased as the last body dropped. Their work complete, the soldiers did what soldiers do… lit cigarettes and chatted among themselves.
"Are those bodies going to turn?" Cass asked Talin.
"From what we know, I’d say probably yes … remember, this is my first zombie outbreak."
Screams rang out as the dead endured what was apparently the agony of resurrection. Moments later first wave of zombies crawled from where they had lain dead minutes before. The soldiers opened fire, pouring hundreds of bullets into the oncoming horde. It had no effect except in cases where the sheer volume of fire had severed limbs. Even then the zombies came on as best they could, with their severed bits doing left squirming in their wake. Within seconds the fighting was hand-to-hand.
Cass seized the opportunity. Pulling the bike upright she cranked the starter. It sputtered once, twice, "Come on baby, start for momma," and finally the engine kicked over. "Yes!"
"You can always rely on a Vespa," Talin added.
"Well right now I wish it was a Humvee!" Was she really having a conversation with a severed head?
Balancing Talin's basket in her lap Cass pulled out, steering the bike straight into the melee. "Hang on!" She yelled.
"With what?"
Good point, she thought. Cass weaved and skidded, maneuvering through attacking zombies and crazed soldiers alike. Everything was great until a zombie grabbed her leg. Cass tried to dislodge the creature but it was holding on for sheer afterlife. The extra weight was slowing the bike down and other zombies were closing in. Struggling to keep her balance Cass steered towards a soldier, veering just to his right as she passed. The clinging zombie struck the soldier hard enough to jar it loose and send the entangled pair tumbling. The much lightened bike quickly accelerated, leaving the carnage behind.
"Well at least those bastards got what they deserved," She shouted to Talin.
"Except now they will be zombies."
"Don't rain on my parade darling," she replied steering the bike towards the resort. "Hey honey,” she asked her lover’s head, “do we have… I don't know… a plan?"
"I was going to ask you that," Talin said. “You’re the one with the body.”
"Fan-fucking-tastic."
Novia
watched the troops herding the American survivors. At a quick glance she estimated twenty five tourists were dead; a number which was well within their accepted parameters. Other soldiers were working their way through the resort buildings, executing any locals on the staff. Some dead islanders would help balance the score card for the international press, changing the headlines from "
Americans slaughtered
," to a more manageable "
Innocents massacred
." It was all in the wording. Either way, they were depending on the international outrage to propel them into power.
Novia stared down at the deceased first lady with satisfaction. This was actually the first time she had ever killed anyone, and she had rather enjoyed it. For years she'd suffered abuse from that highborn bitch. All the condescending looks down her surgically perfected nose. She'd even forbidden Colonel Marcos from marrying Novia, declaring her an embarrassing whore. Just as she was enjoying the site of the bitch dead at her feet, she did something unexpected… the first lady opened her eyes.
The dead woman lashed out with a manicured hand, grabbing Novia's ankle like a vice. Novia tried to pull away but lost her balance, tumbling to the ground. The dead woman crawled forward on her belly, saline leaking out of her chest with every lunge. Her Botox fattened lips were pulled back in a snarl, exposing veneer teeth that threatened to bury themselves in Novia's leg any moment.
Chaos erupted across the compound. The dead were rising, and they clearly had it in for the living. Naked, bullet riddled zombies crawled out of the Jacuzzi to savage the soldiers who had so recently cut them down. The soldiers opened fire, mowing down the living as well as adding holes to the zombie’s flesh. Innocent people were dropped down in every direction as the soldiers went into full panic.
Novia pulled the tiny handgun from her purse, trained the laser site on the first lady's forehead and fired twice. The bitch just shook her head and kept coming.
"Shit," Novia yelled. Stupid movies! She was not the first, nor would she be the last to be bitterly disappointed with Hollywood’s take on the undead that night. She only had four rounds left she realized. They had to count. She shifted her aim to the zombie's wrist, firing three times. The third shot severed the hand and Novia finally pulled away. With a dancer's grace she hopped to her feet, instantly scanning for other threats.
One of the Colonel's personal guards was already racing to Novia's rescue. He grabbed her by the shoulder to pull her to safety but in the same instant, a horde of zombified swimsuit models blocked their escape. The guard fired into the oncoming mass, but it barely slowed them down. Novia had only one bullet left. She knew there was only one way to escape the agony of being eaten alive herself. She aimed her laser sight at the guard's crotch and fired. He dropped to his knees, screaming in agony. The zombies were on him in moments.
"You'll get a medal for this," Novia shouted as she gracefully slipped away.
Jack
raced through the dining room, dragging Fawn behind him. Once the soldiers found the bodies outside they'd be hot on their tail, he figured. The best tactic was to get inside a large building and take every possible twist and turn. His current approach was to really make their pursuers work for it and hope they got lazy.
He slipped down a service corridor and into a large kitchen. He stopped short. A soldier was kneeling inside the doorway, struggling to remove a dead waiter's watch. He looked up in surprise and scrambled for his rifle. Jack killed him with one short burst. The sound of gunfire sent Fawn into uncontrollable shakes.
"It's okay Fawn. He was a bad guy." He said softly.
Other bodies littered the floor. There were about ten, and from the looks of things they were all waiters or cooks… locals. Fawn saw the corpses and buried her head in Jack's shoulder.
"It's okay honey, we're staying right here," He said, patting her head gently.
"But there's dead people all over the floor," She replied, body shaking. “What’s happening?”
"I’m not sure, but whoever did this is already gone. I've been in a lot of war zones and troops rarely return to a killing field."
Fawn looked up at him, clearing tears from her eyes, "I thought you were, like… a travel writing guy?"
"Well, not really. I work for the NSA."
Fawn looked confused, "The tax people?"
"Let's just say the CIA… you've heard of them right?"
Fawn's eyes widened in awe. Jack went to a stack of dining chairs, pulled one off and gently sat Fawn down. Leaning against the steel counter he typed a coded message to his bosses. "
Coupe in progress, at least thirty armed combatants, American fatalities and hostages
," He pounded out more specifics and waited for a reply from his handler. Fawn was still shaking.
"It's okay honey, I'm getting help."
"You're calling the police?"
Jack's IPad beeped, and he took a moment to study the reply and grinned, "Screw the police, we've got the United States fucking Navy coming for us."
Fawn managed a smile, "That's awesome Jack." She became lost in thought for a moment. "That was going to be my first one you know."
"First what?" Jack asked, confused.
"Porn shoot. I know I sounded like a total slut who'd done a hundred, but I’m not. I just really needed money.”
"Yeah, I could tell."
"Really?" Fawn said, her face lighting up.
"Absolutely, I knew right away you were really a nice girl," Jack shot her his most sincere smile. He was only telling a half truth, but he saw no need to say how lost she looked. The poor kid was a wreck.
Fawn's smile suddenly vanished. She screamed, pointing behind them frantically. Jack turned, rifle at the ready… and froze. Despite training for every situation he was still taken totally aback. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
The dead bodies were moving and unsteadily actually climbing to their feet. Jack could have believed one person surviving a massacre like this, but not all of them. Jack knew they couldn't be alive because one of them was missing the entire top of his head. A chef rushed forward and Jack fired a long burst into his chest. The attacker staggered backwards, stunned for a moment, but then came right at them again. The rest of the murdered workers fell in behind him as they rushed the couple.
Jack grabbed Fawn's hand and they both raced down the kitchen aisle. He paused to shove a huge pot of seafood bisque off the stove, spilling it into the oncoming zombie's path. The zombie-chef lost his footing in the slippery liquid, toppling backwards, slowing the onslaught for a moment.
Jack turned to find another pack of zombies approaching from the other end of the kitchen, blocking their escape. They were surrounded… but there was a heavy steel door to his right. With no time to think he yanked open the door, pushing Fawn through. Before he could follow the zombie-chef grabbed his arm from behind. Jack spun, raising the rifle in the process. He emptied the magazine into the chef's neck at point blank range, severing his head. Jack shoved the headless, but still groping, zombie into the oncoming horde, buying him the second he needed to duck into the room.
Jack slammed the door behind him, sighing in momentary relief as it clicked shut. Then he took a moment to survey the space. It was an industrial cold room, stocked with fruits and vegetables. He glanced at the door handle, "Shit, it doesn't lock from in here!" It actually had an emergency escape sort of button or lever to prevent people from being locked in. He jammed the butt of the rifle into the door handle, as it were. A second later one of the zombies began pulling frantically as other undead pounded on the door. Jack was sure the steel door would hold for a while, but fuck, it was cold as shit in here, he thought. He glanced over at the nearly naked Fawn.
"It's really cold in here Jack," She said, already shivering.
Great, Jack thought, the door would probably hold up just long enough for us to freeze to death.
