Flesh (Book 2): Flesh Against Bone Read online




  Books by J’Stone

  Flesh

  Flesh Against Bone Book II

  Outbreak Bloodlust Book I: Piedmont

  Outbreak Bloodlust Book II: Hell’s Gate

  Copyright 2020

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this work may be reproduced without consent of the author.

  Flesh Against Bone

  Book II

  J’Stone

  For

  Madam Butterfly

  Special Thanks to Julie, Sharon Bodek

  and Kenneth W. Die II

  Without you, this book would not have been possible.

  Chapter one

  May 21

  I’m dead.

  Wiping her brow, Chloe stared at her killer, waiting for the little girl to strike.

  She’s going to kill me, she thought anxiously, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  In a panic, Chloe considered her options.

  She could…no, that wouldn’t work.

  Or she could go…no, that won’t work either.

  Damn.

  She had made the wrong decision. Went down the wrong avenues and now she was here and there was no way out.

  Working her jaw, Chloe could see the little girl’s tongue stained a horrid red color. Curling her lips back, Schwunky sneered, her eyes filled with pride and arrogance.

  There’s no escaping. The little girl had her cornered.

  Swallowing thickly, Chloe rolled her shoulders, ready for the little girl to strike. Her heart was pumping and her nerves were raw. This was it. It felt too soon to die like this.

  Slowly, with her eyes trained, Schwunky reached down and grabbed the red disc. Bouncing it over two black pieces, she slammed it down on the opposite side of the board. “King me,” Schwunky said, victory shining in her eyes.

  Chloe frowned, gazing down at the board. How the fuck did that happen?!

  Lifting her juice to her lips, Schwunky smiled and took a hefty gulp of the red, sugary drink.

  “I think that you kicked my ass,” Chloe said slowly, still staring down at the game board.

  “I told you I was good,” Schwunky said with pride still lacing her lips.

  “I should’ve listened.” Leaning back in her chair, Chloe threw her hands over her head and stretched.

  “Wanna play again?”

  Glancing at the clock, Chloe frowned, “We’ve been playing for two hours,” she said, “its time to eat something.”

  “Fine,” she said. Glaring at the pile of salty and sugary treats at the end of the table, she leaned over and quickly snatched up a granola bar, unwrapped it and took a hefty bite.

  Gazing around the room, Chloe bit her bottom lip and frowned.

  They couldn’t stay there forever, she knew, they’d have to find somewhere else that was more secure.

  The employee break room at the small hardware store had been enough for the night, but the doors weren’t secure and she didn’t want to risk those people stumbling in, looking for someone to kill.

  She’d actually been surprised that no one had come in during the night and even though the store remained quiet, she didn’t sleep. She had kept a pickaxe next to her while she watched Schwunky doze, determined to keep the young girl safe. It had been a long night, with every small sound alerting her to a possible intruder. But there had been none.

  After the sun had risen and the young girl began to stir, Chloe scooped up several dollars off the floor near the register and proceed to empty out the vending machines in the break room. While it had a wide variety of snacks and tempting treats, she wasn’t hungry, but offered them to the girl.

  While she was on the showroom floor, Schwunky took it upon herself to wash up and go through the employee lockers, where she found a stack of board games and coloring books. No doubt that the employees were allowed to bring their kids to work.

  Flipping her long, curly hair over her shoulder, Chloe turned back to Schwunky and watched her munch as she reset the board for a new game.

  While she’d only met the girl the night before, Chloe was amazed at how well she’d adapted. She’d lost her mother and odds were she’d watched it happen. Chloe had found her huddled behind the register at a convenience store and it was only sheer luck that she had happened upon her.

  Chloe remembered how it was a split second impulse that made her stop and if she hadn’t been hungry, she would have continued on home. She didn’t want to think what would’ve happened if she didn’t stop. Truth was, the child would probably be dead.

  But she was alive.

  Wedging her blonde hair behind her ear, Schwunky stared at the board, ready to start. Using her finger, she nudged a red disc forward and glared up at Chloe, ready for war.

  * * * * *

  Leaning back in the booth, Jazz stared at the newspaper, contemplating her entire life’s choices.

  It’s likely ground zero, Nathan had said over the radio. It likely stemmed from Drentlaw Towers Research Facility, a privately funded establishment, doing God knows what. Nathan had mentioned that bio and radiation weaponry seemed likely, usually places like that made their money creating devices that killed others.

  Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts out of her mind; they wouldn’t do her any good. It didn’t help her to learn where it started or why. It was the fact was that people were dead, she was, herself, likely infected and going to die. It was only a matter of time.

  Biting the inside of her cheek, she wondered how much time she had left. How many more sunrises?

  Peering across the restaurant, she stared at the dead soldier. His hollow eyes stared back at her, dead and empty. She wondered why he hadn’t turned. Maybe he wasn’t infected, maybe the head shot killed the body, regardless of the virus, after all, that’s how you’d kill zombies in the movies.

  Running a hand through her long, dark hair, she instantly felt tangles. She wanted a shower and a hot meal. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of food and she wondered if she’d be able to keep it down. She’d puked up all of the contents in her stomach last night and up until this point, the mention of food made her stomach churn.

  Tilting her head, she stared at the counter, wondering what kind of food the diner had to offer and if it would be so terrible if she helped herself.

  What the fuck do you care? She asked herself, It’s the end of the fucking world. No one’s gonna care if you make yourself a damn sandwich. Deliberating the notion, her stomach suddenly rumbled.

  Sliding out of the booth, she headed behind the counter, ready to see what the kitchen had to offer. Surely, there had to be some bread and lunch meat, or even salad. Anything really, she wasn’t too picky of an eater.

  Pausing at the swinging door, something shined, catching her eye.

  Coming back from behind the counter, she paced over to where the dead soldier sat, his dead eyes glaring at her as if all he saw was pity. Sneering, Jazz crouched beneath the table, seeing his unmoving legs.

  There

  Tucked between his boots sat a set of keys. Scooping them up, she retreated to her feet and brought them close for inspection.

  Car keys, maybe.

  Lifting her gaze, she leaned over to the window and pulled aside the curtain. The bright sun seemed to sting, shooting rays of pain directly into her brain. The early morning was bright, bringing a fresh notion to the world outside, but all she felt was ache. Squinting, her eyes scanned the small parking lot, coming to rest on the only vehicle there.

  A motocycle, she thought seeing a bike parked just outside the door, Looks Company issued. It was all black with white emblems scrawled across the tank. Elite, Inc.

  Nathan had mentioned that the soldier was one
of his; she could only surmise that he worked for Elite, Inc.

  Never heard of them, she thought, up until last night.

  She remembered that he had stated that he was involved in a security business, meaning mercenaries for hire and that he had offered his resources in return of government contracts.

  Not a bad deal, sparing a glance at the dead soldier, providing that you survive.

  That’s what it came down to; survival.

  But I won’t survive.

  Feeling suddenly angry, Jazz pierced her lips, letting an idea wash into her.

  They shouldn’t survive either. Sparing another glance at the motorcycle and then at the dead soldier’s gun, a plan began to form in her mind.

  * * * * *

  “Where are we going?” Kimber asked from the back seat.

  Frowning, Scotty turned the wheel of the Suburban, taking a right turn. Truth was, he had no idea, but he didn’t want to tell the little girl that. This was all new to him and he hadn’t the slightest idea of what to do next. All the usual rules were out the window.

  “A hospital, maybe?” Misty said from directly behind him, “Or the police station?”

  “Neither wouldn’t be good,” Matt said from the passenger seat.

  “He’s right,” Scotty said, reducing his speed as he came to a residential area. “The police were completely overrun and I’m sure the hospitals are the same.” Glancing in the rearview mirror, he made eye contact with Misty, “I’m a cop.”

  “Daddy is the best cop,” Kimber gleamed from beside her.

  “Oh,” she said, “I wasn’t aware of that.”

  And how could she be? Scotty had changed clothes before they had left the house and only met Matt and Misty while on the road. They’d been headed out of town, but on the way, they’d come across…..some kind of creature.

  It was a scary looking monster. From a distance, it had looked like a man, but as they had ridden closer, it clearly wasn’t. With a sinister face and razor claws, the demon had produced a fireball and wailed it at their vehicle. Spinning the car around, they had headed back to the city and had been driving around ever since.

  Peering at the gas gauge, Scotty knew that they had to stop soon, whether they wanted to or not.

  Snoring lightly, Albert sat in the backseat on the passenger side, with Kimber safely in the middle. While the car was full, it wasn’t crowded. The large Suburban could actually fit nine, with the third row and he’d been keeping his eyes peeled for other survivors.

  He’d seen none.

  The streets were empty, showing no signs of people, none alive anyways.

  As they rode back into town, they drove through the downtown area and Scotty had made Kimber cover her eyes as they rolled past several bodies on the streets. Not only were they dead, but most of them were torn apart. Missing various limbs and bite marks littered their bodies. And the blood, it was everywhere, pooling and smeared across the pavement. Splattered on walls and sprayed onto vehicles. He didn’t want her to see all that.

  The residential area proved to be the same, but not quite as bad. There were a few bodies here and there, mostly of people on their lawns or in their driveways. No doubt that they had come out to see what all the fuss was about and had been attacked.

  Shaking his head, Scotty rolled past the carnage. “I’m open for suggestions,” he said with a heavy sigh. “We need to find someplace; otherwise, we’re going to run out of gas.”

  “Look out!” Matt yelled, pointing straight ahead.

  Scotty stomped the brakes as a chubby man ran out into the street, waving his arms. The vehicle jerked to a stop and Albert’s eyes snapped open with a muffled grunt.

  “Help!” The man was screaming.

  Putting the Suburban into park, Scotty rolled down the window.

  “Are you alright?” he asked as the man came up to the side.

  “Please, you gotta help me,” he said in a rushed tone, “everyone’s dead.”

  Biting his lower lip, he looked over the man, not sensing a threat. He was slightly above middle-aged, with a balding head and a five-o’clock shadow. His thick glasses dipped low on his nose, matching his wrinkled business suit. Peering over his shoulder, Scotty looked at Albert. “Would you and Kimber move to the third row?”

  Albert gazed through the window, noting the heft of the man and nodded. Shifting in his seat, he quickly unbuckled Kimber’s belt and helped her climb over the seat. Once she was settled, he shimmied over the seat as well, settling into the last row.

  “Back seat,” Scotty said, signally to the passenger side.

  The man sighed, making his way around the vehicle. Pulling open the door, he hauled himself inside, the bulk of his form taking up most of the seat. “Thank you,” he said, jerking the door shut, “thank you so much. I haven’t seen another person in hours.”

  Nodding, Scotty peered over his shoulder to stare at him. “I’m Scotty,” he said and looked past him, “That’s Albert and Kimber.”

  “I’m Matt,” Matt said from the front seat and looked at Misty, “That’s my fiancée, Misty.”

  “Rory,” he said quickly, “Chris Rory.”

  Nodding again, Scotty turned to face front, putting the Suburban into drive. “You live around here?”

  “No,” he said solemnly, “I was taking an employee home last night and we were attacked.” Staring down at his hands, “she didn’t make it,” he said, referring to his employee.

  It had happened so fast. He had pulled up to the curb to let her out. She’d made it halfway up the walk when out of nowhere, a man tackled her to the ground. She hadn’t even gotten out a scream before he had ripped her throat out. He had stared in horror, wanting to jump out and help, but knowing that there was nothing that he could do. He’d shifted his car into drive and sped out, only to hit a tree a couple houses down.

  He’d climbed out of his car and ran. He’d been running ever since.

  “What do you do, Mr. Rory?” Misty asked, noticing his business attire.

  “I run the Drentlaw Hotel and Casino,” he said, turning to her. “In hindsight, we should have stayed there.”

  “Why is that?” Matt asked.

  “Well, being built just last year, it includes all the latest in security technology.” With a shrug, “plenty of food and beds too.”

  “Did you leave the door open,” Scotty asked, contemplating his words.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you think that the place is overrun?”

  “I doubt it,” he said honestly, “there were people there when we left, so I’d assume that they secured it.”

  Quickly deciding, Scotty took the next left, heading towards the Casino. Glancing down at his gas gauge, he silently hoped that they’d make it.

  Chapter 2

  Ringing out the sponge, Clebus slapped it down on the floor, picking up the last bit of the blood. Peering inside the bucket, he saw that the bubbly hot water had already turned red.

  Shaking his head, he sopped up the remainder of the loose water and threw the sponge in the bucket. Pushing himself to his feet, he returned to the kitchen and emptied the tainted water into the sink.

  Setting the bucket on the counter, he paused for a long moment to catch his breath. It wasn’t the effort, he knew, it was the strain.

  Someone had been hurt, but he wasn’t sure what had happened to them. Searching the church, there were no signs of life, with the exception of the copious amounts of blood. He did his best to clean it up, but knew that no amount of bleach could wash away that kind of sin.

  He wasn’t a particularly a religious man, although he’d been raised in a religious home. He was a homeless man and as such, he knew that his place in society refrained him from going into nice places.

  That was before, he thought grimly.

  Yesterday had been a different day, with different rules. People were mad with a sickness that turned them against each other and he wouldn’t tolerate that, it wasn’t right. He had ran. Ran as fa
r away and as fast as his legs could take him and when he looked up, he saw the cross and a lifetime of memories came back.

  But there was no one here, just blood.

  Not wanting anyone to think that the blood was his doing, he cleaned it up and quickly became frustrated that after one spot was cleaned, he noticed another. By morning, it seemed that he’d cleaned the entire church from top to bottom and felt rather good about it.

  Glancing down at his clothes, he saw that he was smeared with blood and grime. Frowning, he wondered if he could find a change of clothes. He remembered seeing an office in one of the backrooms, with a closet. Maybe he’d get lucky.

  * * * * *

  Startled, James jerked awake, nightmares of zombies chasing him through his dreams. Sitting with his back to the wall and his knees to his chest, he twisted his head to peer down the alley. He’d been dozing and must have fallen asleep completely.

  Wrinkling his nose, the foul odor of the alley floor seemed stronger than it did a few hours ago. Bringing his hands to his head, he rubbed his face, wiping away the last fragments of sleep.

  Bracing his hand against the wall, he pushed himself to his feet and stretched. Scooping the pistol up from the ground, he looped his hand behind his back and stuck it in his waistband. Turning to face the wall, he unzipped his pants and started to piss on the wall.

  “Ahhh.”

  Pivoting his head, James suddenly focused on a man standing at the end of the alley. His bloody shirt and face immediately told James that he was a threat.

  Zipping up his jeans, he slowly backed up, noting that the man was shuffling towards him.

  Zombies.

  There was no other word that he could think of. People were eating people, what else would you call that?

  Feeling panic starting to rise in his chest, he pulled his gun from his waistband and pointed it at the man.

  He stumbled forward as James continued to back up. The man seemed confused, swaying on his feet and his head loping from side to side. From the way he was acting, James wasn’t even sure if the man knew that he was there.