Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 326: Live Longer

Chapter 326: Live Longer

There were six guards standing at the end of the white hallway, their hands on their rifles, and I could feel the tension even from this distance.

"Now, as ashamed as I am to say it, my vision for Tank is really lacking," said Gerald as he continued to push me toward the pissed-off guards. I could only assume that Tank and his newfound pack were locked behind that door. Otherwise, why would the guards look like they were ready to throw down at any second?

"You don’t say?" I replied simply because it seemed like he was waiting for a reply from me. "You created 150 Tanks; how is that lacking?"

"Well, after I spoke to Adam, I realized that I was really holding back the animal’s potential," chuckled Gerald. With how happy he was, plus adding Adam into the mix, I had a sense of foreboding.

"I’m dying to know what Adam had to say," I smiled. I had to remind myself that this was all for fun, and at the end of the day, I wasn’t going to be the one dying.

Everything was well in hand. I could do this.

"Adam asked why I had stopped at simply cloning Tank using the zombie DNA when I could add more and create a whole new being." The man honestly sounded like a kid on Christmas morning, and I could feel his giddiness coming off him in waves behind me.

"I see," I hummed, my head unconsciously trying to nod. When the hell would they unstrap me from this chair? If I wasn’t here to be tortured, then I would at least like to be able to nod my head. "I assume it was a failure?"

Since Tank was a Hellhound demon... and, therefore, immune to the whole zombie thing, I could only guess that it was a complete failure.

I should have guessed the answer based on how happy Gerald was.

"It was a complete success! No other experiment in any of the labs took to zombie DNA the same way Tank’s clones did. Mind you, no matter what we did, we couldn’t change Tank’s basis structure to a zombie, but his clones had no problem with it!"

Letting out a long sigh, I closed my eyes just as we arrived at the door.

On the other side of this entrance were 150 zombie Hellhounds. And humans all over the world wondered just how everything went to pot.

-----

Tank sat in the middle of the room, completely surrounded by hounds. Everything inside of him was on edge as he took in their appearance. The skin on their faces was stretched thin over their skulls, looking like gaunt monsters in the daylight.

Their bodies were nothing short of perfection. The muscles danced under their fur, each individual muscle perfectly formed as they strained against the skin. Some of the animals were lying down while others were sitting, and even more were running around the outside of the room, chasing each other.

"Isn’t this perfect?" laughed Ramsey as one of the other hounds nipped at the heels of his friend. "After more than 10,000 years, we finally have a pack again."

Tank nodded his head but refused to comment. From the animal’s perspective, this was everything he wanted and desired but never asked for. From the human’s point of view, this was just a disaster waiting to happen.

The sound of wheels just outside the door made everyone freeze; every one of their senses focused on the sound.

"At least they understand," nodded Ramsey as he rose to his feet. His pack fell into step behind them, ready to meet whoever was calling to them. "She is our Alpha; we are simply her tools."

"Did you know that before she arrived, or were you just hoping?" sneered Tank as he rotated his head, trying to relieve some of the tension.

"It didn’t really matter," replied Ramsey, stretching out his back as he looked over his shoulder. Like good soldiers, 150 zombie/hellhound hybrids stood at attention. "They either accepted who they were made for, or they died. At the end of the day, it really didn’t matter to me."

"Which begs the question," shot back Tank. "Were they made for the scientist or for Hattie?"

"I guess we’ll find out," answered the Hellhound as he puffed up his chest and stared at the only way in or out of the room.

----

"Have they been behaving?" chuckled Gerald, like he was picking up his children at daycare. "I hope they didn’t give you any trouble."

"As per protocol, we haven’t opened the door to check either way," replied one of the soldiers coming to attention. "The room is completely soundproof, and Operations haven’t notified us of any reason to go inside."

"That’s good," nodded Gerald. "Then we’ll go in now. I’ll let you know if we need any help."

I heard one of the men muttering under his breath that even if we did need help, it would be too late for them to do anything. Instead of worrying me, it only made me smile. I would be just fine; Tank wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Gerald, on the other hand...

Maybe it would have been smarter for him to have tortured me. It might have kept him alive longer.

Gerald waved his hand, and one of the guards looked up at a camera I hadn’t noticed before and waved his hand. An electric lock clicked open, and one of the soldiers pushed open the door to accommodate my chair without actually going into the room themselves.

Huh, I guess humans do have a small sense of self-preservation.

"Run," I whispered to the man, a bright smile on my face. Let’s see just how much self-preservation he had. And if he didn’t listen to me, no skin off my back.

Turning away from the soldier, I looked into the room and my breath caught in my throat. Tank stood on four feet in front of a massive army, looking proud. It wasn’t until this moment that I really understood just how much Ramsey needed a pack to control.

This was his family. Literally blood of his blood.

Letting out a long sigh, I smiled at him. "Okay, Tank. You can keep them."

But I was not picking up after them.