Kill Zombies (Leopard King Saga)

  Kill Zombies

  T.A. Uner

  Copyright © 2014 T.A. Uner

  All rights reserved.

  Cover: Damonza.com

  Formatting: Polgarus Studio

  Originally published: November 2013

  Revised edition: October 2014

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

  The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

  For my Mother, who never met a reptile she didn’t like

  The Hunted

  The Velociraptor ran for its life.

  Usually it was the hunter, not the hunted, but the two creatures pursuing it were equally, if not more, dangerous. One of them was a reptile, like itself. Betrayed! It thought. By my own kind. Its heart kept pumping more and more to give its lungs the precious air they needed. It had never had to run this fast, except perhaps when chasing prey. Fear! Something it had never felt before. It never had to, until now.

  Its enemies had caught it off guard while it was separated from its hunting group. They were smart; they had to be — one was a human. If the Raptor could curse it would probably hurl an insult at the human, and possibly its reptile companion as well. But it had to keep moving, its life depended on it.

  It dodged an overhanging branch and cut through the bog. Without knowing, it had triggered a trap set for it by the human hunter. A human explosive device went off, hurling it into a dense group of underbrush. It swiveled its head around and eyed the trap that was designed for it. Nothing remained except a small flame, surrounded by charred earth. It felt a sharp pain and looked down at its scaly haunch. A piece of the explosive was lodged it its body. It wanted to scream, but that would only give away its location. It gritted its spiked teeth and pulled the shrapnel from its body while squelching a cry of pain. The wound did not look too bad, it might even survive it, but not if it stood here waiting for its pursuers.

  The Raptor took off again, this time a slight limp in its gait, but it swallowed its need to vent its pain and continued on. Its sharp smell picked up the scent of human, and it ran even faster.

  A loud snarl alerted it of another creature and it barely had enough time to dodge the snout. A four-legged creature with black olive eyes and a double row of merciless teeth snapped at it and tore a gap into the raptor’s knee.

  How could I have walked into this trap? It wondered. It felt its strength being sapped by the two hunters, one human, and one reptile. Yet it continued on its flight for life. However long it had left to live was anybody’s guess.

  Its cousin ran after it and took another swipe at the raptor, this time its tail came under attack. But it persevered despite feeling the rows of teeth penetrate its skin. It took a swipe with its front claws at its traitorous brethren and managed to rid itself of its weight.

  The smell of human grew stronger, forcing its presence on the flailing Raptor. It wanted to stand, and fight like the hunter it was. Not run for its life like an outmaneuvered mammal. Its only hope was to find its pack, and then it stood a better chance.

  “Did you find it, Sawtooth?” the human spoke. But the Raptor fled from the spot it had been ambushed. Its blood trailing it like a bleeding comet.

  It heard the snarl of its brethren as the creature recuperated from its tumble and took off after it. Despite traveling on four feet it was fast, faster than anything the Raptor had encountered. The Raptor turned its attention back to its survival as it ran through the muck and stink of the bog, through a shallow pond filled with lily pads. It startled a group of frogs who fled from its trajectory. The Raptor felt something swish past its head, it thudded into a tree in front of it and split it into two. Another object, this one closer, thudded into the bark of an overturned tree, causing an explosion that rocked the swamp. The Raptor felt its hearing sense betray it as it faded. First its pursuers had sapped its speed, now, its senses. It kept running.

  Despite the ringing in its head, the Raptor could hear the human’s voice, it sounded triumphant. Proud. And why shouldn’t it? It was on the verge of besting one of Earth’s greatest predators. Another swish. Another projectile flew by it. Was it losing speed? Or was its pursuers gaining on it? The Raptor could not tell. It didn’t want to. Fighting the urge to look back it kept running until its ankle felt like something had grabbed it. Its legs flew up from under it and it felt its bulk being lifted into the air as the sounds of its pursuers closed in on it. Too late. It had realized it’d been caught in one of the human’s traps. Now there was nothing else left to do but make a stand. A part of the Raptor’s conscience was glad. At least it didn’t have to run anymore. It would stand and face fate. And if its time on Earth was at an end it would meet it, but it would make its enemies suffer.

  ***

  Croctus Reptilius thought he heard something cry out. Yes. The Velociraptor had been caught in one of his traps. The creature’s sharp claws could cut its way out. But it would take time, that was all he needed.

  “Keep at it, boy,” Reptilius said to his scaly companion, a half-ton American crocodile, aptly named Sawtooth. Despite its bulk it ran at a speed that was uncharacteristic of its species. Reptilius figured its genes had mutated somewhere along the line, but he was grateful, a mutant crocodile at his side was always a welcome companion when it came to tracking prey in the swamp.

  Reptilius slid to a stop, and Sawtooth followed suit. He could hear the Raptor crying out Reptilius had wounded it, and taken away its superiority. Now was the time to finish it off. “Go around it, boy,” Reptilius told Sawtooth. “I’ll cut it down, and when I do you can flush it out.”

  Sawtooth grunted his response and disappeared into a twisted covert, his thick tail crawling along behind him like tank treads.

  Reptilius drew one of his hand ballista and cocked it. The bolt was poison-tipped and would take out the trapped Raptor; at least that was the plan.

  Reptilius ran toward the clearing and saw the Raptor struggling to cut itself out of the net. It swung back and forth like a pendulum. Reptilius would’ve laughed if he could, but his mind was focused on ending this hunt.

  He looked for Sawtooth, at first the crocodile was nowhere to be seen, and then he saw the familiar snout, followed by two onyx eyes. Sawtooth was ready for whatever came his way.

  The Raptor continued to tear at the net. Reptilius lined the crosshairs on his screen so that he could get a direct shot at his target. But just as he pulled the trigger the branch holding the Raptor cracked, when Reptilius fired it sailed harmlessly past the Raptor’s trapped head and disappeared. “Shit.” It was not like him to miss.

  The net landed in the mudflat. The net was bouncing around, kicking up brown water. Sawtooth advanced on the Raptor in rapid bursts.

  Without warning the Raptor split open the net. Its head emerged, two red parietal eyes focused on Reptilius. Now the real battle would begin.

  Sawtooth bushwhacked the Raptor from behind. The two reptiles struggled with one another. Each trying to gain advantage over the other. I
t reminded Reptilius of a wrestling match, but the stakes of this battle were much higher. The loser would die.

  Using the precious seconds Sawtooth had given him; Reptilius drew his dirks and launched himself at the Raptor. It was a suicide charge, the kind that claimed countless victims during the First World War. But that had been two centuries ago and fought with obsolete weapons.

  The blade of the first dirk penetrated the skin of the Raptor’s ribs. It hissed and snapped at Reptilius but the hunter was too fast for it and stepped back to avoid getting bitten. Sawtooth’s arms and legs were also impeding it, and had probably saved Reptilius from fatal injury.

  Reptilius thrust his second dirk into the Raptor’s eye. Piercing it and sending gelatinous fluid across the blade. The Raptor beat its sharp claws against its chest and shook off Sawtooth. No small feat considering how powerful the crocodile’s grip was, but a Raptor’s strength was equally impressive, even if it was injured. Sawtooth grunted as he was hurled into the air before he landed into a thicket of swamp reeds and disappeared from view. Now Reptilius was on his own.

  The half-blind Raptor launched itself at Reptilius, who had managed to draw his Solar Whip and get one lash off. The thong wrapped around the creature’s neck and threw it off balance. Reptilius took advantage of this and pulled with all his might. The Raptor, blinded, and wounded, lost its footing and tripped over its legs, sending a splash of muck into Reptilius’ face. Now Reptilius was blinded.

  He cleared the muck off his visor as the Raptor rose from its position and charged him. He rolled out of the way but the vicious teeth managed to gouge a section out of his helm.

  Sawtooth glided through the much and sank his double-row teeth into the Raptor’s tail. It shrieked and tried shaking the croc free but this time it was not so fortunate. Reptilius would

  reward Sawtooth with generous portions of fried chicken, assuming they survived this ordeal.

  The battle continued: hunter and crocodile versus dinosaur, both sets of combatants fighting within a terrain that was familiar to both. But this time there would be only one victor.

  Reptilius searched for his hand ballista in the muck while Sawtooth continued his battle; a half dozen pink ibises scattered from the trajectory of the two cold-blooded warriors. Their wings fluttering in rapid succession, trying to escape becoming fodder for one, or both of the combatants. Reptilius located his ballista and tried loading it again. Drenched in mud, it slipped from his grip twice before he was able to load it properly. Now cocked, he waited to get off a clear shot.

  The Raptor shook Sawtooth off before the croc was able to latch onto its ankle. He tore at the armored, scaly skin of the Raptor to no avail, the larger reptile, though wounded, was still fast on its feet.

  With Sawtooth out of the way Reptilius fired a bolt. It tore through one of the Raptor’s arms, detaching the scaly limb from the Raptor’s body. Brown blood pumped from the wound and Reptilius sensed victory.

  But again the Raptor defied odds and remained standing. No wonder these things are worth a fortune, Reptilius thought. They’re so damn hard to kill. He watched as the Raptor wavered a bit before he fired another shot at it, piercing the creature’s throat, ejecting scaly skin and gristle, some of which splattered across Sawtooth’s snout.

  The Raptor’s movements slowed. Reptilius fired again. Another shot. Another hit. This one tore through its abdomen and disemboweled the creature. It released a final death throe before toppling over.

  Was it dead? Reptilius took no chances. He dropped his ballista and found his dirks. Approaching the Raptor he could tell it hadn’t expired yet. He thrust both dirks into its chest.

  It squawked and closed its remaining eye.

  Sawtooth came lumbering out of the muck and eyed the dead Raptor. He let out one of his victory grunts. Reptilius exhaled.

  They spent the next half hour dragging the Raptor’s corpse back to the airboat.

  The Hunter

  The Raptor’s hide fetched a generous sum.

  But skinning it was the hard part, especially after expending enough energy to power a small generator. The trader in Miami had offered Reptilius 10,000 North American Credits. He took it, but not before haggling his ass off. Credits were preferable to South Eastern Bucks, considering the fractured state of the once-omnipotent union, it wasn’t a difficult choice. Now the trader would sell the skin to some rich puke in New Miami, who would either have it made into shoes or a purse for one of his girlfriends.

  Reptilius couldn’t care less; with money in his pocket he had purchased over thirty pounds of chicken for Sawtooth. Then he slept for two days. When he woke up he found out that he still felt tired and he needed more chicken for Sawtooth.

  After navigating through the bog in his skiff he arrived at the local trading center. There was no way he was driving to New Miami again. He stayed the hell away from that cesspool of humanity unless it was absolutely necessary.

  One of the brothers, Max, sat in a rocking chair on the porch of the trading center. He stared at Reptilius through judgemental eyes while his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down on his pencil-thin neck. “Howdy Rept,” he said while helping Reptilius tie the skiff to the dock.

  “I need some supplies.”

  “No shit.” Max let out a chuckle that sounded like a goose call which only served to annoy Reptilius. “Where’s Sawtooth?” the boy asked.

  “Around.” Reptilius stepped inside the center and was greeted by the smell of bait and gasoline.

  “Lookee who’s back,” Max’s brother Rex said. He wore a yellow shirt over a pair of old jeans. He wasn’t as skinny as his twin, Max, but no one could accuse him of being a weightlifter. He slid over towards a bar. “What’ll it be?”

  “Same ole, same ole,” Reptilius answered as he sauntered over to the bar and planted himself on a stool. He heard a yelp outside and smiled as Sawtooth made his entrance into the center. No doubt Max had shit his pants when the croc had appeared. Some things never change.

  Reptilius sipped his beer and tossed a ten credit coin to Rex, who smiled and pocketed it. “Looks like someone cashed in big. Another Raptor, Rept?”

  “Mmmmhmmm.” Reptilius finished his beer and Max poured another draught.

  “Need some information?”

  Reptilius sipped his beer. “Depends, you got any worth selling?” Sawtooth grunted and made a gurgling noise. “You better feed him something before he starts chewing on your leg.”

  Rex disappeared into the back room and tossed a slab of chicken at Sawtooth. The croc began devouring it. “So what’s this information you’ve got?”

  “Depends, how much you got, Rept?”

  Reptilius wiped his mouth with his wrist. “How bout I let you live Rex, that enough?”

  The boy chuckled, not as annoying as his twin, but enough to make Reptilius grimace.

  “What is it? Another nest of Raptors? Or maybe you found Jimmy Hoffa’s remains?”

  “Nope, but you’re getting closer.” Rex leaned in closer to Reptilius and whispered: “Saw

  something I bet you never seen.”

  This was getting dramatic. But Reptilius wasn’t known for his extraordinary patience. “Well shit it out kid, I don’t got all day.”

  “Well,” Rex began, “I hear one of those anomalies is back.”

  “That’s all?” Reptilius snorted. “And I was hoping you’d seen the Loch Ness Monster.”

  “It’s true.” Max had crept inside and was carefully navigating his lanky self around the feasting Sawtooth, who paid him no heed. “Tom Digby saw it too. He came by here two weeks ago and said so.”

  Reptilius pushed up his visor and rubbed his left eye. “Tom’s words are about as reliable as an election day promise.” But Reptilius had time to kill. “Go on, though.”

  “It was in the southern quadrant of the swamp, Rept,” Max said. “He said he was riding around on his airboat and it just snuck up on him.”

  Rex continued the tale: “He claims there were Death
Walkers too.”

  “Bullshit. Death Walkers hadn’t been seen in over fifty years. Not since that last bio attack that wiped out a quarter-population of Chicago.” Reptilius remembered his father telling him about some militia in the Dakotas that had unleashed a virus which had made Chicago a death ground. Damn Death Walkers were everywhere, chomping on people, fucking up traffic. It had taken the police over a month to take out every one of those mindless menaces.

  The Government, or what was left of it, had declared martial law and the nation had split into four quadrants to govern it more effectively.

  “It’s true, says he has pictures to prove it. Says he’s gonna sell ‘em to the Miami Herald.”

  Reptilius stood up. Sawtooth had finished his meal and was groaning impatiently. “I’ve heard enough of this shit.”

  The twins looked at him resolutely but stood firm. “Fine. Don’t believe us, Rept,” Max said. “But it’s the truth. But I have a bad feelin’ bout Tom. Nobody’s seen him since.”

  Reptilius turned to leave. “Maybe he sold the pics and moved to Vegas to blow his savings.” He drifted out of the trading center and untied his skiff while Sawtooth slid into the murky water and headed back home. Reptilius watched as his scaly companion’s snout surfaced above water before swimming away.

  He rowed his skiff home. Most people would’ve bought an airboat but Reptilius liked to stay in shape by taking the skiff out sometimes. Still, he was intrigued by the story of old Tom and the anomaly. Besides, he hadn’t seen the old swamper in ages. He would pay him a visit and see what he was up too.

  Then he could tell Tom how full of shit the twins were.

  Before he was called Croctus Reptilius: swamp dweller and dinosaur hunter, he was born Malcolm Hendricks of Dade County Florida. A star safety on his high school football team, he was once bitten by a grey fox while camping in the woods and grew to despise anything with fur. That was when he realized his dreams of playing in the NFL were in jeopardy. The rabies had taken a toll on his reflexes and scout interest had faded. Though, he would later restore his physical strength via weight training and vitamin supplements.