What Zombies Fear 6: The Incarnation

By Kirk Allmond

The final book in the #1 Best Selling What Zombies Fear series by acclaimed author Kirk Allmond.

After heavy losses and major setbacks, the team splits up. Spread across the country, everyone is making a new life and rebuilding.
Kris and Alicia build a life for themselves in Gander Acres. John, Jo and the Australians fortify a town in the familiar climate of the Arizona desert in Yuma. Marshall and Renee take over Legion, and secure Atlanta.
Everyone thinks the war is over. Except Victor and the E’Clei. Victor never forgets the atrocities committed and never loses sight of the zombies goals. His friends think he’s crazy, but he continues to fortify Sharonton.
For years, life is pretty good, John has several more children. Marshall builds LEGION into a thriving community, with the help of Renee and her daughters. Gander Acres thrives, growing into a small town filled with love and relative peace.
Then the zombie hordes launch a coordinated attack against all of the major human settlements across the globe.
Only a stroke of luck saves Victor, as the E’Clei renew their offensive and declare all-out war against the humans. Will Victor and Max be able to save the few remaining humans from this massive offensive?

Bestselling author Kirk Allmond delivers fast paced action, sincere characters and a story that will leave you breathless.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Permuted
• Release date: Dec 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781618683854

Kirk Allmond

Kirk Allmond started writing the first bestselling What Zombies Fear novel in 2010 as an online story as part of his website The Zombie Preparedness Initiative. When the idea to write a novel struck him, he took his own “Zombie Apocalypse” plan and turned it into a story. That story has now spawned six novels and two short stories, and is showing no sign of letting up. In addition to books set in the What Zombies Fear ‘universe’, Kirk is also working on two other (non) zombie novels, and several short stories. The Zombie Preparedness Initiative is a global project aimed at readying the world for the inevitable zombie apocalypse, or whatever disaster may occur. He is commonly quoted as saying, “If you’re ready for zombies, you’re ready for anything.” The site focuses on modern preparedness, survival techniques, and also features reviews of survival gear and weapons of zombie destruction. As a world renown expert on zombies and post-apocalyptic survival, Kirk Allmond has been featured on television and major market radio programs and he has spoken at numerous conventions on the topic. Allmond has consulted on major network television programs and two zombie themed motion pictures. 6-3-dump 1305When he’s not writing or talking about zombies, the Michigan born writer holds firmly to the southern roots of his family. He grew up in Chicago IL, and Roswell, GA. Kirk has an amazing little boy who was born in 2007, who is the basis for the character Max in his novels. His time growing up in the south with his grandparents taught him the value and skills to live off the land. He is an avid outdoorsman, loves hunting, fishing and backpacking. When he’s not honing his survival skills, Allmond is often found sitting at a role-playing game table, either as the GM of his own Zombie Apocalypse role playing game or as a participant in games run by one of the members of Grown as Gamers, the premier podcast for all things geek and pop culture.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Pinned Down

Victor took a minute to assess the situation. He and Max were pinned down in the back field behind Marshall’s farm. The party was destroyed, and shambling zombies waded in packs between the overturned tables and chairs, stumbling and falling. Gunfire came from every direction; Marshall’s men were well trained and well outfitted.

Fuck you, Charlie, Victor thought. The shamblers were just there to use up Marshall’s ammunition. Their job was to absorb bullets, so the forces of LEGION would be low on supplies before he sent in the lieutenants.

Charlie and Victor had spent countless nights talking about defensive strategies before the E’Clei took him. And now they knew how Victor thought.

Marshall was God knows where. Supers were dropping off groups of zombies every couple of seconds. The sound of gunfire was everywhere, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, somewhere out in the desert John was in real trouble.

He looked around, desperate to come up with solutions. The lives of his friends were at stake. The E’Clei could keep throwing bullet sponges at them until they were out of bullets. Then Marshall’s men would switch to hand-to-hand combat. That was when the supers would show up. And this scenario was playing itself out at John’s, too.

Explosions rocked the ground, sending clods of turf and rotten body parts flying. Marshall’s men were using pipe bombs to dismember and slow the shamblers.

Watch your feet! Victor called out. Heads can still bite.

There was no other choice. He knew she hated when he came to her for help, but she had to understand this time. Hey, Kris, John's in trouble. Any chance you and Alicia could head out to his hou...

Victor's thought was cut off by a horrific mental scream, powerful enough to knock him to the ground, clutching his head. The energy in her anguish rattled in Victor's head. He put his hands on the ground and stayed there, on all fours, for several seconds before he spotted Max in much the same position.

Behind Max, hundreds of miles to the north, Victor saw Kris's aura burning so bright it was as if she were standing directly in front of him. It was spun of threads of red, whirling and spinning around her, bright enough to illuminate the darkness to Victor's eyes, like a red sun sitting on the ground up north in Tennessee.

When the wail subsided, Victor felt blood running out of his ears. Max was lying on his back on the ground, and Marshall was carving a path towards him. There were suddenly thousands of zombies in the yard.

Max, called Victor weakly. Max-monster, you gotta get up, buddy. He tried to focus his mind, willing himself to move, despite a deep pain. Everything hurt, from his toenails to his hair. The man grunted as he stood, then stumbled towards his son. Max was unconscious on the ground, blood running from his ears.

Max! Victor yelled. Oh, Max. Max, come on, wake up, buddy. He sat on the ground with his son's head in his lap, stroking his shaggy hair out of his face. Come on, Max. Please, wake up. Wake up. Tears ran down Victor's face. Max's pulse was weak, and his breathing was labored. Pain like ten thousand migraine headaches pounded against Victor’s brain.

Max's eyes opened slowly. He moved his hand to his father's arm. I'm okay, Dad, he said weakly, little more than a croak. What was that?

Kris, said Victor. She's in trouble too. I’m not sure what the hell that was about.

Over to the side of the battle, Reggie watched the proceedings. He briefly glanced upward for a moment before his eyes fell back on Max. No, not now. He cannot. I will do it. Reggie seemed to listen for a moment, his head tilted. The old man shook his head and said, This was too clever. They cannot be allowed to fail.

The ancient black man tottered over towards the father and son, blood running from his own ears. Mister Tookes, he said. I beg you, please sir, go get Miss Thompson. She is not in her right mind.

I can't leave Max. I can't leave Marshall and Ren here, Reggie. She'll have to wait.

Reggie saw the genius of the zombies’ plan. They'd countered each of the heroes. They used their love and their loyalty to each other to paralyze their ability to fight. Mister Tookes, if you do not, we will not survive. Time is short. You must go to her. I will make sure young Master Tookes is cared for and that your brother and sister survive.

Reggie, how? Victor struggled to his feet and drew his gun and hatchet. Watch Max. I'll handle this, and then I'll go get Kris and John.

No, Mister Tookes. You must go now. It cannot wait; Kris will destroy herself in seconds. Reggie slowly held his gnarled hand up. His fingers were crooked with arthritis, each knuckle swollen to twice the size of the finger bones it connected. His milky eyes looked upward, and then they settled on the zombies, completely clear. Victor heard a low vibration and felt it in his chest. Like the lowest bass note from the car in front of you, it rattled, building in intensity.

A giant blue wave shot out of Reggie's hand, carrying the sound with it, rolling like the tide through the horde of zombies. When each came in contact with the wave, they collapsed and then slowly turned to dust. Reggie sank to his knees, clearly weakened. Now, Mister Tookes, please go. Time is very short. I'll see to Master Tookes.

Reggie, how... Victor started.

The grizzled old man looked at him, his eyes glowing bright blue. Go! he yelled. Reggie's voice was hollow, powerful. It was a command and a plea all at the same time. As Victor fixed the image of Gander Acres in his mind, the old milkyness returned to Reggie's eyes. The last thing Victor saw as he disappeared was Reggie clasping Max's hand to help him to his feet.

Victor materialized, but it was different than normal, like it was forced, as if something interrupted his travel. He appeared hundreds of feet from his target, at the edge of a dome. The dome wasn't Kris’ normal polychromatic swirl of rainbows. This one was solid red, and inside, a fire raged. It was Atlanta all over again. The fire blossomed inside, sweeping across the ground, building on its own heat contained within the dome. At the center, Kris stood, tears streaming down her face, cloaked in fire. Her clothes were burned away, her hair on fire, streaming out around her head.

He solidified his aura around himself and touched the dome with his finger. Where his aura touched the dome, it turned red, her pain and anger infusing itself within him, infecting him. He fought to stay focused. He had to get to her. He had to save her.

Victor focused on memories of the two of them, their friendship, and the common bond they shared, fighting back her rage. He thought about her wedding to Alicia and how beautiful she looked standing there beside her. How perfect the two of them were for each other, how much love they shared. He pushed forward, through the dome.

Everywhere around him was fire. He was an ice-blue form slowly staggering through a sea of heat, struggling to maintain his shield, the thin layer protecting him from the raging inferno all around. Each step was like wading through lava. His head roared with pain as he fought to maintain control. He watched his aura flaking off like ash, turning red before dissipating.

He finally reached her in the center and stopped in front of her. Kris, you have to stop. We have to go.

His words barely reached her. She sounded hollow. Ghostly. They're all gone, Vic. All of them. They...they took her from me. Kris sounded like she was talking to herself. Other than using his name, Victor wasn’t really sure she was aware of him at all.

I'm so sorry, Kris. They'll pay. We'll make them pay. But you have to stop, begged Victor. I can't hold out much longer, Kris.

You should go, Vic. You shouldn't have come. There's nothing left for me, she said. And I'm not planning on seeing what tomorrow is like without her. The inferno around them grew, as if intensified by her words.

I'm sorry, Kris, said Victor. He drew back and punched her in the temple as hard as he could. The dome dropped, and the fire escaped into the atmosphere. The rush of air filling the void left by the flames in the center of what used to be Gander Acres knocked Victor down on top of her.

Desperately, he teleported the two of them to Renee's farm.

Tookes struggled to his feet, grimacing in pain. He stood for a second while he steeled himself to continue fighting, but there was no one around. He searched for Max, but he wasn't in the area. Neither was Marshall or Renee. In fact, there wasn't an aura for miles. Where are you, Buddy?

Home. Can't talk. Gramma's in trouble. I got it, though.

They're attacking the house?

Yeah, Dad. Same as everyone else. Go get John.

Victor knelt and put his hand on Kris's shoulder. I’m taking orders from him now, he mumbled, just before he disappeared.

Yuma was hot, even for this time of year. Victor surveyed the town from his vantage point on top of John's wall; there were zombies everywhere, thousands of them. They were crawling over every inch of the town, on the roofs of the houses, swarming away from the wall where they entered the town in their search for anything living.

He shot two zombies approaching on the wall, a tactical mistake. Every head in Yuma turned to look up at the giant wall and the only two living creatures in the town. Each zombie, almost in unison, turned around and started making its way towards him.

Victor looked up and to the right, towards the top of the cliff. He put his foot gently on Kris's still-unconscious body and reappeared there. He knelt beside her and shook her a little.

Kris, wake up. he said, but she was out. He hadn't hit her hard enough to leave her unconscious this long. The wind screamed along the top of the cliff, dry and hot, blowing in his face. Tookes focused his mind on the woman and thought, Kris, can you hear me? I need you to wake up. John's in trouble, and I'm not sure I can save him without you.

Vague images came back to his mind. No words - just pictures, as if he was looking through her eyes. He saw her feet. She was standing in a freshly mowed field, and the sun was shining brightly in the sky. She moved her gaze from her feet to a pair of headstones, Edward and Margaret Thompson, April 12, 1999. On her shoulder were two strong hands. He felt Kris's gaze shift to meet the faces of an older couple. Victor's own heart swelled with love for them.

Then there was a skip in time. Next he saw an old woman, lying in a hospital bed. The room was full of flowers, balloons, and cards that said, Get well soon. The items of well-wishes were all in sharp contrast to the reality surrounding them. There was no getting well this time. Kris was holding her hand, singing to the woman softly. The woman in the bed met Kris's eyes and rasped something intelligible before the heart monitor went flat.

Another jump. Kris and a man, standing in a bar. She was hugging him, and he was whispering in her ear as a zombie stabbed him in the back. She was screaming. Then he saw the two of them together back in Atlanta beside the train and her walking away from him, another disappointment.

Time flew again. He saw Alicia, beaten half to death, her face swollen and bruised. He saw Markus running, swarmed by zombies, tearing and ripping flesh from his body. Even with his extraordinary strength, there were too many of them. A man in military fatigues had a gun to Alicia's head. He pulled the trigger. Then rage. Fire. Death. Darkness.

Victor had to physically pull himself out of her mind. She was trying to pull him in, to hold him there to experience her pain. He knew she needed to share the burden with someone else. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. There was so much going on, he had to think.

He scanned the horizon, looking for John's aura. His head roared in pain. Every time he did anything, the pain got worse.

He found John about six miles away. His aura was very dim - there wasn't much time. He put his hand on Kris and teleported to the barn back at the farm in Virginia. He appeared with her in the barn loft. It was the safest place he could think of. Two women looked up and saw him and started towards him. Tookes, one of them said as Victor fell to one knee.

No time, he said, raising a hand. I'll be back in a minute with more wounded. She's going to be a mess when she wakes up. I'm not sure I want her here when she does, but I can't leave her like this. Please watch out for her, and if she wakes up, tell her she's safe. The two women looked at each other, and one opened her mouth to speak.

Victor poofed again, landing on the point where he’d seen John's aura. He was knelt over Jo, tears running down his face. Two of his children were crying. The four of them were in a small cave, not much more than a recess behind a stone, but it was something solid at their back and shade overhead. Dead zombies lay everywhere around them, hundreds of corpses in varying degrees of rot. Buzzards circled overhead, intent on gorging themselves on the carrion feast John laid out below.

John, we gotta go, man, Victor said softly. We gotta get them to safety.

She can't move like this, mate. Her back's broken, and she's been bitten. She jumped in front of one, he said, looking up. It was going for Charlie. She stuck her arm in its mouth. Why the hell would she do that?

She saved Charlie. We have to go, John. The desert is swarming with them. They'll be here any second. Victor could barely hold the tears back himself. He knew exactly why she did that. It was something he would do for Max. John knew why she did it too. He would have done the same for any one of the people in Yuma.

John, I'm tapped out, man. I don't know if I have enough gas in the tank to get myself home. But we have to get as far as we can. We have to get all four of you farther from here. Victor's head felt like Marshall was pounding on it with his sledgehammers. It was getting hard to stay standing and again, he shook his head to clear the fuzziness. He had to stay focused.

John coughed into the dirt, leaving a spattering of blood. I'm done in, Mate. Take the kids, he said, turning a bit. He had blood running from a dozen spots in his chest, and his lips were coated in blood. Take the kids to safety, so I can know they're ok. I'm staying with Jo; I'm not going to make it much further.

Both kids started to cry. No, Daddy, no. You have to come. You'll be all right. Nothing can kill you, wailed Charlie, tears leaving clean streaks down his cheeks.

You'll be all right, little bugger, said John, reaching out for his two sons, forcing a smile. Go with Tookes. He'll take you to Max - he'll keep you safe. With a small sob, he pulled the kids in close for a hug. Victor took advantage of that, put one hand on Charlie's head and the other on Jo's foot. He used the last of his energy to bring them all to the barn.

Victor's head felt like it was going to explode. He'd never teleported that many people that far before. He wasn't even sure it was going to work, but they all arrived at the barn safely. He couldn't leave John or Jo there, and he certainly wasn't going to take the two kids and leave their parents in the desert to die.

Blackness crept in on the edge of his vision, narrowing his sight down to a small tunnel when he tried to stand again. Gunshots rang out from the gravel driveway just outside the barn. They were close. He had to get to his son. He stood to go help Max, took one step, and fell face first into the wooden floor of the loft.

Chapter 2

Bookbinder

Charlie Bookbinder drew his pistol and looked out over the farm. He was on a ridge, about three hundred yards from the wall Victor had built. It was impressive. Victor, unlike his friends, had never given up, never stopped believing that one day the zombies would come. And he was right. That day was today. The day he finally got Victor Tookes. Bookbinder had memories of Tookes and of Max.

The E'Clei queen attached directly to Charlie's brain stem bristled at the thought of the child. Bookbinder shivered and went over the plan in his mind. They had tens of thousands of soldiers just over the rise outside the range of the hourly patrols.

Tookes had six teams patrolling the wall every hour. Four separate squads ran scouting routes every four hours, but after nearly six months of sending soldiers in ones or twos at the house, those routes were never the same. Charlie had to give some respect to the man. Leave it to Victor to plan chaos.

The soldiers were grouped into five battalions of two thousand. For each fifty soldiers, there was a Lieutenant and a Councilman for each group of twenty lieutenants. Ten thousand zombies, two hundred supers, and ten Councilmen, said Charlie to himself, reverting back to the human terms for E'Clei. It'll be enough.

We hope so, droned the ten councilmen standing behind him in unison. The child cannot be allowed to escape this time.

They waited throughout the cool, drizzly afternoon until the appointed time. At exactly six o'clock in the evening eastern standard time, twelve attacks would be carried out simultaneously. Six here in the former United States and three in China. Tookes and his friends were the primary targets, but there were groups like this throughout the world, immunes that had come together to protect small communities of humans. Bookbinder had planned this night for twelve years. Tonight, he solidified his position as Queen. Tonight, he would take control of this world as his predecessors had failed to do.

Inside the house, Sharon stayed busy supervising the kitchen crew. These days, most people ate in their own house with their family, but nearly everyone came to the hall for a couple of meals per week. The hall drew the community together, and everyone was a part.

Sharon's dining hall was a remodeled, refurbished indoor riding ring. It embodied the spirit of the town. Everyone worked together for the common good. No one was paid a wage or a salary; everyone split the fruits of their labor evenly. The town lived or died together.

Sharon didn't do much actual cooking anymore. After years of working under her watchful eye, the men and women who volunteered to cook with her were well trained. She always suspected that after her seventy-fifth birthday, Victor had asked people not to let her work so hard anymore. She was grateful for the rest. It was harder and harder to get up every day, but she still felt a need to be active and involved.

Joseph, darling, that bechamel is going to break. Don't stop whisking, she called out to a burly man with a long red beard. And make sure not to get any whiskers in it!

Yes, Ma'am, he replied, whisking harder than ever, despite the burn in his muscular arm.

Andrea, how are the torts?

A tall woman with fine features and close-cropped dark hair checked a timer hanging around her neck. Four minutes, Ma'am.

Wonderful. Thank you all for your hard work, she said, plunging her hands into the dish sink. She scrubbed a few pans, happily watching the commotion. Even now, she was the last one to leave the kitchens, never going to bed before every surface was scrubbed, every pot and pan put away, every knife sharpened, and every scrap of leftover food either sent to the men on the walls or to a house with a sick person or stored away in the deep underground cellar.

She was carrying a large ladle over towards the soup tureens when she heard the bells. Deep, loud bells ringing, first from the north, soon followed by the rest lining the walls.

Oh my, she said to herself, quickening her step. She moved as quickly as she could, covering all the food and shutting off the stoves before retreating back towards the manor house.

As Sharon walked, she could hear constant gunfire from the walls all around her. From all over the farm, children came streaming up into the manor through the massive wooden gate.

She stopped one girl who was about ten years old, her long red hair in two braids down her back. Kaylin, where's your brother?

He's right behind me. He was loading magazines for Mr. Davis.

Thank you; please go into the library and help keep all the smaller children calm. I'll be right in, Sharon said.

The house shook as the first set of explosives outside the wall detonated, and then another and another, until all six lines were blown. Starting twenty yards from the gate, Victor had buried explosives in lines every ten yards. The blasts were designed to push an attacking force back if something ever got close enough with enough strength to threaten the Iron Gate. The gate itself stood twenty feet high, made of two-inch steel straps woven together and welded.

If anything made it through the Iron Gate, they found themselves inside a one hundred-foot run, wide enough for two cars side by side, ending with a stone portcullis even Marshall couldn't lift. It had taken Marshall and Markus, plus a crane, to lift it into place, high above the second entrance. Once lowered, nothing on earth could move it. If they made it into the courtyard, they would die against the Stone Gate as Victor’s men hailed bullets, arrows, spears, and boulders down upon them from the walls.

Sharon counted the last child entering the Manor. She saw the house guards running towards her. The house guard was Victor’s idea. He handpicked three dozen men who were tasked with keeping the mansion safe in the event of an attack. The wall would keep the zombies out, but the smart ones could teleport right into the house. Any time there was a threat against the wall, the house went into lockdown. Victor trained these men mercilessly. They were his most important defense, protecting his home, his mother, and until recently, his child.

She quietly closed the door and moved into the library. Some of those children were going to lose someone they cared about tonight. They needed her more than Victor's men did. She sat down in her leather chair and opened up

Reviews for What Zombies Fear 6

[wildeaboutoscar · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Good story,the father/son dynamic was particularly touching. Some aspects could have been built up more and there could have been less detail in the summaries of the other characters. Felt too inauthentic and author-like considering they were supposed to be giving an account of a zombie apocalypse.