Zombie Road: The Second Omnibus by Simpson, A. (e ink manga reader .txt) 📗

cables still danced and sparked, still live with electricity. The tunnel was much dimmer now as they took off again for the basement of the casino. The headquarters of the Lord of the Underworld.

The utility tunnels branched off into storm drain and sewer tunnels but the only route to the Casino was straight ahead down a long killing zone and their ears caught the sounds of more movement, more shouted orders and running feet.

Professor Harrison, the jackal headed Anubis, Lord of the Underworld, the anointed ruler of all the worlds and grand master of the new religion was upset when he heard the hesitant report. He’d expected news that it was time to move from the casino to the new headquarters. He was already celebrating with his favorite concubine on her knees under the table. She was servicing her Lord and Master as other gold painted boys and girls fed him finger foods from the lunch banquet. He had absolute power over absolutely everyone. He was not supposed to be hearing that he’d lost his entire army when they were a thousand miles from Lakota. They’d been wiped out by the small outposts that were supposed to be easy to conquer. His unkillable, undefeatable army had been killed and defeated.

Ricketts was worried. They had airplanes. How was he supposed to fight against those? He furrowed his brow and stared down at the plate of olives and cheese. They could recover from this. He’d get rid of the yes-men and make the changes needed. They could still control Canada, still be rich beyond belief. He had a few hundred troops left, it would be enough to start again. Professor Harrison would listen to reason now.

“Out! Out!” Anubis shouted at the dozens of concubines, worshippers and servants, his belly fat jiggling as he leaped to his feet and pointed to the doors. The business of pleasure was lost in his rage.

They ran, hastily bowing as they backed out of the conference room lavishly decorated with priceless Egyptian artifacts and gaudy casino statues. In a tantrum, he swept aside the dishes in front of him, sending them shattering to the floor. He stood, fists on the table and could only breathe heavily and stare at the gathered men.

“Explain.” he finally said, looking right at his new chief of the armies, the man he’d entrusted to conquer the fortified cities when Ricketts had shown too much reluctance to give him what was rightfully his. He was the Lord of the Underworld. He had armies of undead, thousands of blindly loyal followers and hundreds of super soldiers. How can there be anything other than swift victory? How could there possibly be failure?

“Your Grace,” High Priest Charles stuttered. “It-it wasn’t my fault. Th-th-they didn’t follow my orders.”

His chubby fingers shook in fear and he suddenly gestured towards Ricketts who still had his head down, still trying to figure out a way to salvage his lifestyle.

“He has been undermining my authority, he trained them and they are still loyal to him! They did this just to make me look bad in the eyes of my Lord.”

Harrison turned towards Ricketts as he looked up sharply. It was ridiculous but one never knew how the Dark Lord would react. He’d become more and more unstable as he gained more power.

“Right.” Ricketts said to Charles. “Thousands of men let themselves be killed just to make you look bad. It had nothing to do with your ridiculous battle plan that anyone could have seen and prepared for. I told you the settlements couldn’t be conquered and held by force. I told you this.”

The high priest jumped at his words like a drowning man clinging to a life vest.

“But the Dark Lord approved the plans! You’re accusing him for this failure? You’re blaming him? How dare you! Heretic! Blasphemy, I say!”

Charles stood there shaking in feigned outrage, his plump finger pointing at Ricketts as he tried to shift blame.

“May I have permission to kill him slowly, my Lord?” Ricketts calmly asked, a small smile creeping to the edge of his lip. “Not only has he failed you, he…”

The sound of an explosion below them tore through the room, rattling the china and shaking dust down from the rafters.

The conference room door burst open as shouting, frightened people ran in and the lights flickered.

“We’re under attack!” one of them shouted “Save us, Lord. She’s back. The heretic is back!”

Jessie pulled the pins, wound up and threw the grenades as hard as he could. The spoons flew off as they rocketed towards the end of the long corridor and ricocheted around the room before exploding. Jessie and Scarlet dove to the ground behind the bodies, covered their ears, opened their mouths and waited for the shockwave to blast over them. The concussive explosion was nearly as deadly as the flying metal and could easily rupture lungs and eardrums. The concrete tunnel amplified the wave and every light shattered as decades old dust rained down. They were on their feet and sprinting for the entrance before any surviving guards could regroup and send a wall of bullets at them. Jessie pulled the trigger on any of the black-clad figures they ran past. He wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be coming after them. The other soldiers he ignored and hoped they’d had enough, would try to hide and tend to their wounds. He followed Scarlet through the smoke-filled basement with strobing lights from crackling shorted circuits. Water streamed from broken pipes and sewage splashed out of others as she led him through familiar surroundings and made her way to the stairwell.

They were in. They were past the long corridors where even a single man could have held them off. Once they made it to the first floor it would be even easier.

They hit the stairwell running and made it halfway up the first flight when the door slammed open above them. Jessie had his gun up and shot instantly, sending round after round into