Zombie Killin' Blonde - A Wasteland Road Knights Prequel - EBOOK

Prologue

Lazlo stood at the window, looking out over Midway city beyond the glass. His gaze wandered over the towers that rose from the gritty streets below. People went about their business, walking, driving, working. Going about their day to day lives. They were unaware of him or the future that awaited them.
He’d been working up to this for years. Finding that book on the crashed ship had changed everything. Years of research, trying to decipher it by learning another language from the thing in his head.
It had taught him how to read it, how to understand the book, something which was crucial in making the ritual work apparently.
He’d show the world who he was. He’d show the world, a world that didn’t treat people like him fairly, he’d show it who truly had the power. The Whisperer had shown him the way. Guided him towards this moment. A moment of greatness and power.
It felt like it had been a long time coming.
From here, he’d be able to watch as the effect of the ritual spread through the city. He’d be able to watch the chaos ensue and fill the streets.
He felt quite sure it would be wonderous.
~Are you going to stand at that window all night?~ the voice in his head asked him. Whispered to him.
‘No,’ he answered, feeling a little angry that the Whisperer was trying to get him to do this before he was ready.
~Then, when will you get to work? You know what to do.~
‘I am saying farewell to the world as it is,’ he answered.
~Urth will never be the same again, all because of you,~ the Whisperer hissed.
‘It’s more than it deserves really,’ Lazlo muttered.
~As you say…~ the Whisperer replied.
Taking one last look at the world as it currently was on the other side of the glass, Lazlo turned away from it and looked back into the room. On a raised pedestal in the middle of the room lay the book, open on the desired page. Around it, seven people knelt on the floor, a mix of men and women, all of them naked and bound at the wrists and ankles with duct tape. He’d also gagged them with the same tape to keep them quiet.
The ones that were facing him looked at him in fear. He could already smell the acrid stench of urine from those who had pissed themselves in fear.
Sad, pitiful things, and a necessary sacrifice to make the ritual work. Walking over, he threaded between two of the figures and made his way to the pedestal and the book. He glanced over the strange text. He was familiar with these words now, he knew their meaning and their power.
Looking up, he peered at the faces of these terrified sacrifices, their eyes wide in fear. Many of them had been crying. Their expressions were pleading with him, desperately asking him to be merciful.
Did they not know, did they not realise that this is precisely what he was being? Cruelty would be to let this world continue as it was. To let the injustice continue. Better to enact change now. Bring this corrupt world to an end, kill it swiftly, mercifully, so that they might start again.
People would die. But, that could not be avoided. People needed to die. Otherwise, the change wouldn’t happen. If the same people continued to live on, then things would just continue as they had been doing.
No, it was better this way. Wipe the board clean, make a fresh start. The world would be better.
~Now, we come to it. Now, we make our mark on the world,~ the Whisperer stated in his mind.
He wished he could let others listen to the Whisperer’s words. He’d been his guide, affirming his view that the world was corrupt and needed changing. He knew others would flock to his banner then. He knew there were others out there who sympathised with him, who wanted the same for this world. It was only natural that others would share his views.
Maybe this would bring them out of hiding. Maybe they had been waiting for a moment like this. Waiting for the world to change, to transform into something that would allow them to shine.
Maybe he’d find them, and join with them?
Maybe.
Lazlo cleared his throat and looked down at the passage in the book, and in his clearest voice, read the passage aloud, being careful to pronounce each word correctly. The Whisperer had been quite keen on that point.
The words, if he had heard them before he knew what they meant, would have sounded like utter nonsense to him. But he knew better now, and as his voice worked through those guttural sounding words, he could feel the power grow. He could feel the energy rush around him, and as he finished the last word, the figures around him looked like they had been hit with an electric shock as their bodies went ridged.
They shook violently. Then one seemed to shrink as if all the water in his body was being sucked out of him. His skin grew wrinkled as it contracted all over him. The others were changing now too. One of them was bleeding from her eyes, nose, ears and mouth with an ugly gurgling sound. Another had deep cuts rip open all over him, while another seemed to boil, her skin bubbling up and popping. They all died horrific deaths all around him as he felt their souls pull out of them and gather into a rolling ball of energy above the book, until it burst and shot out in a shockwave that spread out over the city, and around the world.
Lazlo had ducked to the floor as an element of fear had taken root inside of him. The noise and energy were gone now, though, and silence filled this floor of the building.
Around him, the seven dead bodies lay on the floor. Some of them still looked human, while others were little more than raw red flesh, blood and bone scattered over the ground. He could taste blood in his mouth. Looking down, he could see he was covered in splatters of thick, crimson liquid and shuddered for a moment.
He’d need a shower.
Standing up, he stalked towards the window. ‘Is it done?’
~It is done,~ the Whisperer intoned in his mind.
Reaching the glass, he looked out over the city and down into the street below. People were walking, driving, going about their business. It seemed the same.
‘What’s going on? Why has nothing changed?’
~Oh, it’s changed. But, it will take time to become obvious.~
‘How much time?’
~Not much… Very little in fact.~
It was subtle, but as he looked out over the city, over the Urth, with its sun setting in the west, he thought he could start to hear sirens. More than the usual amount of sirens. Had it started?
Movement sounded behind him. Lazlo turned as fear of discovery filled him. Looking back into the room, seven figures stood where the dead bodies had been. A couple of them were little more than skeletons with chunks of flesh hanging off them, while others looked much more human. Most of them still had their wrists or ankles bound as well.
He’d reanimated the corpses, but fear still gripped him. Had the Whisperer betrayed him? Was this how the Whisperer would repay his service?
‘What’s going on?’ Lazlo asked.
~This is the fruits of your labour,~ the Whisperer intoned, as he laughed in Lazlo’s head.