Zommunist Invasion by Picott, Camille (ebook reader ink TXT) 📗

Juli. Nonna clarified. “My brother was like Stephenson.”

This was adequate explanation for Anton. He nodded in understanding, not questioning her further about Juli. “But why did you cover it up if your cousin murdered him?”

Nonna met Anton’s eyes. “Because I was a scared little girl and I didn’t know better.” She rested her hand on top of her grandson’s. “War makes us all grow up faster than we should, Antony.”

45

Microscope

When Nonna finished with Anton, he buttoned on a clean flannel shirt. All his wounds were hidden except for the cigarette burns on his neck and jaw and the cuts and bruises on his face.

Even that was enough to suck the oxygen out of the room as he walked slowly into the kitchen. He appeared to be limping on both legs.

Lena was the first to recover. She ran across the room and threw her arms around her brother. Anton teetered from the force of the hug.

“Careful,” Nonna said. “Some of his ribs are cracked.”

“Sorry.” Lena shifted her weight, leaning back to look at Anton. She burst into tears at the sight of him.

Anton held her, letting her cry on his shoulder. “I’m okay. I’m okay, Lena.”

He kissed her cheek, which made Lena cry harder. They held onto each other as though their lives depended on it. It was the single tenderest moment she’d ever seen the two siblings share.

“What did those assholes do to you?” Lena sniffled, raising her eyes to take in Anton’s battered face. When he didn’t respond, she said, “Tate?”

At the mention of his friend’s name, Anton’s face went blank. “He didn’t make it,” was all he said.

Fresh tears spilled from Lena’s eyes. Anton kissed her cheek one last time before releasing his sister. When he took a seat at the kitchen table, Nonna placed a plate in front of him. It was mounded with enough spaghetti to feed three teenage boys. Anton dug into it with gusto.

He spoke between bites. He didn’t talk about what had happened to him and the Craigs. Instead, he told a story of a Russian compound overrun with a new type of zombie—a sentient zombie, the same type Lena’s group had encountered.

Nonna didn’t remind Anton not to talk with food in his mouth. As far as she was concerned, Anton had earned a break from table manners.

“We’re calling them sentients,” Anton said. “Sentient zombies. Super soldiers. Their compound was chaos when we left because so many of them were turning.”

“It only reason we escape,” Koz said, speaking for the first time.

“How do we know you won’t turn into a zombie?” Nonna asked him. The sight of a Russian at the Cecchino table still had her hackles up.

“I a scientist,” Koz said. “I work on nezhit vaccine. It very dangerous.”

“You mean the nezhit virus is dangerous?” Amanda asked.

“No, he means what he said.” Anton inhaled another forkful of spaghetti. “The nezhit vaccine is dangerous. The Soviet soldiers are beginning to zombify, but they aren’t like mutants and they aren’t like regular zombies.” He glanced at Koz. “Explain it to them.”

“The vaccine have small amounts of the nezhit virus,” Koz said. “Taken over a long period of time . . .” He shrugged. “You see what happens. They turn into smart zombies.”

“But what about you?” Nonna asked. “What’s keeping you from turning into a zombie?”

“I take saline, not vaccine,” Koz said. “No one listen to me, but I know. I try to tell them, to warn them, but no one will listen. I know better. I not take vaccine.”

“He brought all his research with him. And something else.” Anton’s dead eyes swept the table. “Tell them, Koz.”

The hulking Russian rose from table. He really was the biggest man Nonna had ever laid eyes on. He towered over the rest of them. He would make Leo and Bruce look normal-sized, if the boys were here.

A metal briefcase sat on the hearth. It was the spot where Cassie liked to sit and play chess. Her little travel case with its miniature pieces and board leaned against the brick, right next to the black metal case.

Koz picked up the case. There was a combination code set into the top of it. He spun the dial and opened it.

Inside was a thick stack of notebooks and paper. From what Nonna could see, everything was written in Russian. There was also a microscope and several vials of a yellowish substance, all of them packed neatly into a foam cut outs.

“A microscope,” Amanda exclaimed. For some reason, the sight of it brightened her face.

“My research.” Koz laid a giant hand on the stack of papers and notebooks.

“We need to get Koz and his research to Nellis in Nevada,” Anton said. “He’s agreed to help us fight the sentients in exchange for immunity. The sentients are more dangerous than anything we’ve come up against. They’re as strong and fast as the mutants, but they think and reason just like us. And they eat brains. There are thousands of invaders all across the country. Imagine what will happen when they all begin to turn and hunger for brains.”

Silence fell as the statement sank in.

“They’re going to hunt us,” Juli said. “Round us up and eat us like cattle.”

“Precisely my thought,” Koz rumbled. “This is why we must get to your scientists.”

Nonna was skeptical. “And just how is that case supposed to help us combat sentient zombies? You helped create them. How is that information supposed to help our country?”

“The zombies are side effect,” Koz said. “They begin as a soldier program. My superiors wanted to make super soldier. So we work on virus to help men grow in strength and speed. But it not work. We make zombies like you see when we first come to the United States. My superiors try to control the earliest zombies. Try to make them fight. We make a gas to put them to sleep between testing sessions. It knocked them out when they are not training.”

Nonna finally understood where all this was going.