Jack Katz: Zombie Hunter Series

By Amarinda Jones

“You killed him!” The blonde stepped back from the women with the axe, her eyes were wide open with horror at what she was witnessing.
“Almost.” The brunette held a long handle axe in her right hand as she lifted her left arm and wiped the sweat off her brow onto the fabric covering her left forearm. This humidity is a bitch.
“He’s bleeding!”
Like I need hysterics now. But that was her sister for you. Always worried about mere details. “Yes, now get out of my way.” Her sister scrambled backwards, sliding on the blood covering the floor. “I have to whack him again.” She lifted the axe high and smashed it down into the man’s head. Blood spurted, bones cracked and the sickening squelch of bursting brain filled the air. Her arms ached like the devil but whining was not going to help get the job done. She lifted up the axe and smacked it down once more. Blood and gore flew everywhere. She was pleased she was wearing her usual gothic black. It was businesslike and rarely showed bloody stains if washed correctly.
“Fuck!” her sister screamed and rammed her back against a nearby wall as if it was somehow going to anchor her to reality. “Stop it! He’s dead, for God sakes!”
“Nah, his head has to come off and I have to split his heart open.” The axe came down once more. “And there is no God. These bastards roaming the streets prove that.”
“I don’t know who you are anymore!”
She turned to her sister. “Hey, I never asked you to come and visit in Cairns.” Whack!
“Mum thought it’d be nice if we bonded—Oh jeez! The head’s come off! I’m going to puke.”
“So, go and vomit outside.” She aimed the axe at the chest cavity. At that moment the grotesquely bloodied and hacked man looked up at her, his severed head no longer attached to his body.
“Bloody hell! His eyes opened! How is that even possible?” the blonde shrieked.
The brunette rolled her eyes. “Stop screaming! I don’t have time for hysterics.” She had a job to do. Normally there was never an audience around when she did it. Explaining things to people wasted time and frankly was a pain in the ass because they never understood and always kept asking ‘why?’
Whack! Whack! Whack! The final blow cleaved his heart in two. His eyes closed and blood spurted out like a fountain from his chest. Her sister projectile vomited onto her shoes. “Damn it! I just cleaned those!” It was hard to work when civilians were about. They always whined, questioned and threw up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarlet Harlot Publishing
• Release date: Nov 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311417831

Amarinda Jones

Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.

Book preview

Chapter One

You killed him! The blonde stepped back from the women with the axe, her eyes were wide open with horror at what she was witnessing.

Almost. The brunette held a long handle axe in her right hand as she lifted her left arm and wiped the sweat off her brow onto the fabric covering her left forearm. This humidity is a bitch.

He’s bleeding!

Like I need hysterics now. But that was her sister for you. Always worried about mere details. Yes, now get out of my way. Her sister scrambled backwards, sliding on the blood covering the floor. I have to whack him again. She lifted the axe high and smashed it down into the man’s head. Blood spurted, bones cracked and the sickening squelch of bursting brain filled the air. Her arms ached like the devil but whining was not going to help get the job done. She lifted up the axe and smacked it down once more. Blood and gore flew everywhere. She was pleased she was wearing her usual gothic black. It was businesslike and rarely showed bloody stains if washed correctly.

Fuck! her sister screamed and rammed her back against a nearby wall as if it was somehow going to anchor her to reality. Stop it! He’s dead, for God sakes!

Nah, his head has to come off and I have to split his heart open. The axe came down once more. And there is no God. These bastards roaming the streets prove that.

I don’t know who you are anymore!

She turned to her sister. Hey, I never asked you to come and visit in Cairns. Whack!

Mum thought it’d be nice if we bonded—Oh jeez! The head’s come off! I’m going to puke.

So, go and vomit outside. She aimed the axe at the chest cavity. At that moment the grotesquely bloodied and hacked man looked up at her, his severed head no longer attached to his body.

Bloody hell! His eyes opened! How is that even possible? the blonde shrieked.

The brunette rolled her eyes. Stop screaming! I don’t have time for hysterics. She had a job to do. Normally there was never an audience around when she did it. Explaining things to people wasted time and frankly was a pain in the ass because they never understood and always kept asking ‘why?’

Whack! Whack! Whack! The final blow cleaved his heart in two. His eyes closed and blood spurted out like a fountain from his chest. Her sister projectile vomited onto her shoes. Damn it! I just cleaned those! It was hard to work when civilians were about. They always whined, questioned and threw up.

You already have blood on them! Her sister was shaking and wiping her mouth.

Blood I can hose off. Vomit requires more effort. She wasn’t sure why. Possibly it’s an enzyme, acid thing. I should look that up. She mentally put it on her list of things to do after clean shoes and sharpen axe.

"Who are you?"

She dropped the axe head on the floor and leaned against the long, wooden shaft and grinned. Jack Katz, licensed zombie killer.

Does mum know about this? Nancy Katz’s eyes were wide with horror.

It’s bad enough having you vomiting everywhere without mum going into hysterics. That she couldn’t deal with.

Jackie, how can you—aren’t you—

What, Nance? Lordy, I’m tired. Despite all the boxing at the gym and the weights she lifted, Jack still found her upper body lacked the physical strength she needed to do this job without the muscular pain. A vision of Bear Beaumont came to mind. Tall, muscular and a blond man mountain. He was the best person she knew to train with. He knew nothing about the zombie hunting and she was content to have it stay that way. Their relationship was fitness and sex. She sighed. Yeah, well, in hindsight it probably wasn’t a good idea to lust after the trainer. Sex messed everything up. Training had become more personal than it was meant to be. It had to do with seeing each other naked. Nudity was a bitch. And orgasms? Don’t even go there. Jack sighed. Another problem to solve. Find a new trainer or talk about ‘commitment’ and the ‘future’ with Bear. Frig, I barely know what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone the future. Dicks. Lovely to look at. Wonderful to play with. Dangerous in the aftermath because they always wanted more.

Jack surveyed her pale faced sister. Her neat, expensive clothes were covered in blood and vomit. And her face? Ghostly pale and filled with accusation. Bloody amateurs.

You killed him!

No, Jack lifted one, bloodstained finger and wiggled it back and forward. "I killed it. A flesh eating, rip your guts out and wear your entrails as a hat zombie."

Nancy’s eyes widened in horror. They do that?

If you’re slow on your feet.

Fuck! This was followed by more vomiting from her sister.

Oh jeez, I was hoping for this to be an early night. Jack dropped the axe. Her arm muscles screamed in pain.

Where are you going?

To get the garden hose. It didn’t happen often but occasionally a zombie came to her home and she had to kill it. She had a garden hose in her bathroom, ready to be hooked up to a faucet for times like this. A broom with a wide brush and she could spray and then push the bloody water through to the bathroom grate. Thankfully the entire apartment was tiled. It took a while for clean up but it was better than getting down on your knees and scrubbing with rags and a bucket. Blood is a bitch to clean once it’s dry. She looked down at her sister’s vomit on her shoes. What did you eat? Broccoli?

Yeah, it’s good for you. Not every ones lives on coffee and toast like you do.

Jack rolled her eyes. You’re such a mummy’s girl.

And you’re a murderer!

No, I’m a professional zombie killer. There’s a difference.

How so?

I have license in my wallet that says I can kill any zombie I need to.

Nancy got unsteadily to her feet. What do your neighbors think?

About what? Global warming? Man’s inhumanity to man? The price of eggs? Jack enjoyed being a smart ass. She knew it annoyed her prissy sister. I still have no idea how we’re related. It was no surprise to Jack why her father – well the last man she technically called ‘father’ because she has no idea who her real father was— abandoned the family when she was six. Smart man. Her mother, Cheryl Lee, was a head case and her sister took after her. It amused Jack to think she was possibly the normal one in the family.

I met them. They’re nice people. They borrowed a cup of sugar.

Jack look surprised. I have sugar? Amazing. Her pantry was lacking due to interest in grocery shopping. If something didn’t fit into the toaster then she didn’t buy it.

They’re nice, normal people who don’t have any need to kill zombies.

They sound boring. Jack cocked her head to the side. Are these the people who live on the left, and when you pass by the smell of incense smacks you in the nose? Her sister nodded. They’re dopers. The smell hides what they’re smoking and the sugar is probably for when they get the munchies.

Nancy shook her head and sighed. You’re so jaded.

What? That’s a bad thing?

Chapter Two

Two years ago

Terminating zombies was something Jack—she was rarely called Jacqueline let alone Jackie—learnt after an aborted attempt at studying anything useful at University. Technically, there was no approved course on it or even a recognized career path. Not everyone knew about it. Jack Katz stumbled into the profession purely because her sociology professor told her she sucked.

I beg your pardon? She barely paid any attention to any lecture Squiggly gave in class. No, it wasn’t his real name. His real name was Magnus Wellsby. Squiggly was a name she gave him due to his intense, bushy, black eyebrows that looked like they had been drawn on, badly, with a felt tip pen. He also had a head of black curls that looked like unruly squiggles. Some days in class, looking at those eyebrows bouncing haphazardly up and down were the only things that kept her awake. Those and his blue eyes. They were deep and searching and Jack found it better to keep her head down than be questioned by him. Not that it stopped Squiggly. He always managed to ask her something the minute she wasn’t paying attention.

Katz, tell the class your view on re-socialization versus the concept in seeking a consensus of opinion, or group conformity or do we take the narrow view of the individual and call society a myth propagated by the ruling classes?

Er—

Pay attention Katz. That may just be on the exam.

I said, you suck, Katz. Magnus Wellsby told her in no uncertain terms.

Well you blow. She was twenty-eight years of age. Older than the average student fresh out of school and still believing in authority figures when it came to education. Jack didn’t. She left high school before graduation and bummed around in a multitude of random jobs before deciding one night, after a horrendous waitressing shift, that she would enroll in University to learn something and get a better job. Problem was she had switched courses so many times she had no idea what she was doing or wanted to do. That was how she found herself in sociology. It had become her last option.

He laughed at her words. This is what I’ve always liked about you. You have attitude and take no crap.

But I also suck according to you.

Correct.

Jack wasn’t offended. She preferred people said what they thought than pretend to be politically correct to save sensibilities. Why?

It’s just who you are. Some people can sit and listen and absorb what they’re hearing then report back parrot-like a perfect two thousand word essay that will give them an easy B-plus. You’re a C-minus, verging on a D, all being dependent on what mood you’re in, Katz. He held up his hand in defense. Now before you tell me to piss off, let me explain. You’re a doer. You’re not a follower — hell, look at you in your Goth maiden black with your grungy Docs. No one else is like you on campus or in Cairns—maybe not even in the state. And, you have a way of looking at people like you’re seeing into their souls and don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.

She knew. She had always been able to look at someone and know what they were thinking. Unless sex was involved and then her radar was screwed. Orgasms did that to her. Or, with Squiggly. There was no sex involved there yet he was unfathomable to her. I’ve never been able to work you out.

Ah, that’s because I block you, Magnus told her. I’ve met people of your kind before. Some go straight into government and play behind the scenes manipulating things, others are cold blooded spies with no conscience whatsoever and then there are people like you. You’re unique.

And according to you, Squiggly, I suck.

He laughed at her words. You call me Squiggly? I like that. It means I get to you.

Yeah, he did. His was the only class she made an effort to turn up to on a regular basis. You have weird eyebrows. The rest was interesting though. Dark hair in a six foot lean frame of what she often contemplated was sheer muscle, by the shape of it, under a plain jacket and trouser combination. There was a deliberate blandness to his clothing that she believed hid a lot.

Do you ever wonder why some people have one particular feature that stands out and attracts attention?

She knew why. Because they’re hiding something they don’t want everyone else to know about. They make people focus on the obvious and not see what’s really going on. Like his eyebrows. She could make fun of them in her mind because it was easy to deal with one small thing rather than the whole. What it was with him, Jack hadn’t worked out yet. It was one of the main reasons she was still in his class. She couldn’t work him out. What are you hiding?

Death, mayhem, madness.

Jack felt a chill run down her spine. Who was this man? Why did he block her? That all? she responded nonchalantly.

I want to talk to you about something. Sit down, Katz.

I’ve had my bullshit quota today. She was going to get out of his class. Maybe out of University altogether. Squiggly was right. She was bored with listening to lecturers drivel on about subjects she suspected they were bored teaching. She thought about her mother’s reaction to her leaving school. She could hear Cheryl Lee Katz’s words already. Why can’t you make something out of yourself? Look at your sister, Nancy. Fucking Nancy, Jack muttered thinking about her pristine bleached blonde sister who was engaged to an equally pristine man called Brad, for god sake.

What?

Nothing.

Magnus shook his finger at her. I know where your head is. You’re not to give up on this as well. Yes, I know all about you, Katz. You’re a loner who has no ties and no idea what she’s meant to be so you wander from thing to thing trying to find something.

She snorted. Wow, I sound deep and soul searching.

Nah, you’re a pain in the ass who needs to be directed—and don’t give me that look. I know you.

Bullshit. His deep blue gaze bored into her. It made her shiver. Who is he? He looked to be anywhere in age from twenty-five to fifty-five. One minute he looked dazzlingly youthful and then next? Older, wiser and sadder than anyone she had ever known. He talked in jokes, in riddles and with a sense of purpose that often scared and mesmerized her.

Magnus looked unfazed. Jack Katz, I know what your true calling is.

Avon lady?

No, zombie hunter.

The thing was, she should have laughed but she didn’t. Jack just stared at him, a chill running up her spine at the intensity of his gaze. Zombie hunter?

Yes, like me.

Why that didn’t surprise her, Jack would have liked to have said she was too cool to ever be surprised but it was more than that. She actually believed what he was saying. There were things, unknown, evil things, which she believed and felt pass by her. A fortune teller once told her she ‘would fight the darkness and while not always winning, she would endure and be stronger.’ At the time, Jack felt it had been the worst ten dollars she had ever spent but looking into his eyes, she felt fate, in the form of Squiggly, stood before her. Like you?

He nodded. Amongst other things, yes.

She saw the truth in his eyes. It was like a veil had been removed from her mind and she was no longer blocked from seeing the man she jokingly called ‘Squiggly.’ She knew in her heart, his true self was revealed to her. You kill people. The tedious professor who marked her as a C-minus and wrote copious red notes indicating she should ‘try harder and focus on what she was doing’ was actually taller than she imagined, broader of shoulder then she had wanted to believe and the curve of his lips indicated strong passion.

Not people—zombies.

They don’t exist. Well, as far as she knew they didn’t.

Don’t they? He smiled at her.

No—I don’t know. She put her hands on her hips and stared hard at him, as if trying to see beyond the layers. Who are you?

He held his hands out at the side. I am what you choose to see. If you look beyond and open your mind to the obvious, then you’ll see and understand more.

Like zombies?

Yes, not many people know it but zombies have been with us since the dawn of time.

Jack thought back to the last zombie movie she had seen. It had been Shaun of the Dead. A classic.

It’s nothing like that movie, Katz.

She took a step back. You read minds?

Sometimes the obvious requires no guessing. He leaned back against the wall and surveyed her. In the last five years, zombie numbers have increased and they have slowly been infiltrating all the cities and towns of the world. In the last eighteen months, Cairns has seen a significant rise in their population.

Zombies in Cairns?

Yes.

These are not just stoner backpackers? She had seen plenty of those on the Esplanade.

No.

His responses were frighteningly simple and that in itself made Jack realize this man was deadly serious. You said ‘rise’. That indicates they’ve always been here.

He nodded. Yes but in small numbers only.

In Cairns, Far North Queensland? The most casual, laidback place on Earth? Even as she said it, Jack realized it was probably the best place to hide in plain sight for that reason alone.

Magnus confirmed that. And casual, laidback people are often careless people who don’t pay attention to their surroundings. If zombies want to eat someone, those are easy targets for them.

Eat them? They really do that? I thought they just chomped on a person and turned term into a zombie.

Depends on their mood, he responded with a small smile.

She raised her brows at this. Zombies have moods?

They’re intense individuals with a one track mind.

Right. Okay. What the…? Jack thought for a few seconds. "So, if I believe you and there are zombies running amok, why would they come to a tropical city like Cairns which is extremely humid? Sweaty heat would wear a decaying body down fast."

Think about it, Katz. Due to the intense tropical heat and the fact most of the population spent time in air conditioning, it’s the perfect place for zombies.

She looked in his eyes and could see he was telling the truth. And you kill them?

Yes, and you can too.

What? Are you on a recruiting drive? And why aren’t I more freaked out about killing zombies. Why aren’t I more surprised they exist?

No, I only talk to those with potential.

Me? It was the first time in her life someone had ever indicated she might be good at something.

Yes, we need people like you."

We? Images of shadowy men smoking cigarettes in darkened rooms came to her mind.

Zombies are beginning to appear faster than we anticipated. Their patterns and rituals have been tracked for centuries. Our group has worldwide links. We have and still do fight to destroy the undead.

Right. Bizarro world.

You’re a smart woman, Katz. Think with your gut and not your head. You know your gut instinct is instructing you I’m telling you the truth."

Yes, it did.

The Hollywood stereotype of zombies is all wrong. Yes, they’re dead. Yes, they’re rotting corpses but you can’t always tell they’re zombies as many rot from the inside out. As long as they’re fed—

People?

Yes, then they can look like anyone in the street. They do have a particular smell but they mask it with perfumes and other strong smells so people aren’t aware of whom they are until it’s too late. They also adore anything sugary so that’s another good clue to their identity.

That, Jack hadn’t expected. Perfume smelling, sweet eaters. What about salt?She had seen that in a vintage Nightstalker episode. Is that how you kill them? Note to self. Stock up on salt.

Magnus shook his head. Salt doesn’t destroy them. It stops them momentarily and sometimes that’s enough time to get your axe and cut their head off and spilt their chest open to destroy their heart.

Axe. Decapitate. Hack open. Uh-huh. Really, I should be shocked. Why aren’t I?And that’s what you do in your spare time when not teaching sociology?

She could see the answer in his eyes.

That and other things.

Other things. I don’t want to know. How many zombies are there in Cairns?

Too damn many and more arrive every day. You can help.

Even if I believed you—

—and you do. I can see it in your eyes.

I’ve never killed anyone, or in this case, anything.

But you could. He sounded assured of that.

Most people can if enraged enough. Jack viewed that as human nature and the kill or be killed principle.

Or if their lives were threatened. Magnus started to unbutton his shirt.

Jack held up her hands. Wait a sec. Zombie revelations were one thing. A naked Squiggly was another. She wasn’t against naked men, quite the contrary, she did, however, consider small talk, other than about zombies, to be part of the whole getting naked thing.

He ignored her and bared his chest. See this? There was a huge twisted mass of scar tissue that looked like it had been chewed and then spat back out onto his chest. A zombie did this. I wasn’t quick enough but my partner was—and no, being attacked by one doesn’t make you one. People become zombies after death if they have the gene that determines it.

Bloody hell, she murmured horrified at what she saw yet intrigued by what he said. Weirdly, she was fascinated.

Yes. He started re-buttoning his shirt. That’s the most emotion I’ve seen from you all semester, Katz.

Why me?

Because you’re tough, hard headed and a pain in the ass. I’ve been watching you and listening to what people think about you. You’re hard to get to know. You form no ties and you don’t suffer fools lightly. I believe you’d kill evil without qualms.

Maybe. I could have the zombie gene.

No, we’ve checked. He grinned at her. Money and influence can buy a lot, Katz. We need you, so we got the information we wanted to get you.

We?

Our group.

Of zombie killers. What if I don’t want to be a part of your group? What would she tell people if she did join? I carry an axe because I’m a lumberjack?

You will. You’re floundering, Katz. What are you going to do with your life? Get married? Have two-point-four kids and live in suburbia with a dog called Muffy and a husband who requires sex two times a week but anymore he’d consider perverted?

She smiled at his description. He knew her too well. You’re an asshole. Zombies huh? What if—

You don’t like it? You can’t kill a zombie?

Yes.

You were born to be a hunter, Katz. You have to and will save your part of the world.

Chapter Three

And that was how it started. However it was anything but simple. Jack wasn’t great at following orders. It was no surprise to her, she didn’t think highly of authority figures. She was used to doing her own thing. Magnus wasn’t surprised either. He made it clear to her that he didn’t care what her control issues were. She was now under their command.

Suck it up, Katz. You’re here to learn and obey.

Fuck off, Squiggly.

They were in a new warehouse situated right in the middle of the Cairns industrial suburb of Woree. She expected somewhere away from town and hidden from prying eyes. When she mentioned that, Squiggly had laughed. Always hide in plain sight, Katz.

Jacqueline…

That made her hackles rise and he knew it. She smiled in response. Have you got a squiggly dick as well? How does that go over with the ladies? Or, are you into men?

Wanna see it? Magnus started to unbutton his pants.

Part of her did, part of her didn’t. That surprised her. While she hadn’t considered him as someone to have sex with, she did want to find out more about this man. God, no. Put it away.

Chicken.

She knew he was taunting her to see what she’s do. Jack wasn’t going to rise to it. So tell me, Squiggly, what dumb assed rule do I have to listen to now? She found out very quickly, there were many of them.

If you see a zombie, phone it in. If you kill a zombie, phone it in. If a member of the public sees you killing a zombie—

Phone it in?

Yes.

And then what? Were they brainwashed? Paid huge sums of money to forget?

We deal with them, Magnus replied simply.

She tried not to look surprised. What was he inferring? Kill them? How do you deal with them?

Never mind.

Note to self. Kill in private. She thought about what she was signing up for. Killing. Dead. Death. Never more. She wanted to say she was appalled at her decision to become a killer but the thing was, she wasn’t killing people. These were zombies preying on human beings. A right to lifer may have other thoughts on this but Jack’s were fixed. Zombies weren’t human. She had been shown horrifying pictures of what a zombie could do to the human body and they didn’t just do it to adults. They were malicious killers who had to be terminated for the greater good.

Then there was the issue of paperwork. There was none.

You have to remember everything. If you write anything down or record it in any way—

You’ll kill me, she responded mockingly.

Rules have to be followed and consequences are just that.

What does that fortune cookie logic mean? He was a scary man and she could only combat that with being a smart ass. It made her feel better.

It means do as you’re told. He held up his hand. Before you speak, yes I know you prefer not to but we prefer to kill as quietly as possible and not alert the general public what’s going on.

But isn’t knowledge a good thing? Shouldn’t people feel safe knowing they’re protected by bossy men who write nothing down on paper yet are anal about phoning everything in?

Magnus was bemused at her words. "Look around you, Katz. People are slaves to technology. They’d only believe a zombie exists if it was it was on a game or if some Hollywood heartthrob was on film fighting one without getting his hair messed up. We’re in a messy-haired business. You will get covered in blood and gore. There will be times you want to vomit or quit. Anything I tell you now you will take on board and remember because without the knowledge, you will die.

He was annoying but also right. So talk to no one. Write nothing down and do what I’m told by people I barely know and basically be a good girl.

Never for one second did I think a smart ass like you would be a good girl.

Aw, that’s sweet, she remarked, knowing the truth behind what he said. But I know you’ll only try to keep me alive because I’m valuable to you. Jack was realistic. She was a number and thing and probably in the zombie killing world it was best to be detached and unemotional.

Correct.

When do I get to meet the other zombie killer people? That had to be a fun bunch.

You don’t.

What? We don’t get together and bond? That was fine with her. Jack hated team events and ra-ra get togethers where you had to pretend you were a team.

"They’re not bonders. You’re not a bonder. Besides they’re all out in