False Idols (After the Apocalypse Book #3)

Chapter 1

"You can't save people with a flamethrower." I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the High Priest of the Church of Chaos.

"You just don't like to see me having fun." Seth grinned rakishly as he adjusted the nozzle on the flamethrower he had strapped onto his back. A single lock of dark black hair had fallen across his forehead, obscuring the ruined white pupil of his blind right eye.

"Your idea of fun doesn't leave a whole lot of room for survivors," I pointed out.

Seth pressed a button and sent a small whoosh of flame shooting into the air above our heads.

I shrieked and ducked instinctively towards the thick carpet of multicolored leaves at our feet. He laughed.

"What can I say?" He adjusted the hose of his new favorite toy. "You always insist on learning all your life lessons the hard way, Pi. Why won't you just trust me?"

"You don't have much of a conscience when it comes to respecting the sanctity of human life." I struggled to regain my composure as I ran both of my hands through my frizzy reddish brown curls.

"I've never intentionally hurt you." He had the nerve to look insulted, pursing his lips into a terrifyingly pretty pout.

"I'm the exception. Not the rule." I put my hands on my hips and reminded myself that Seth, regardless of his bizarre and inexplicable loyalty to me, was an incredibly dangerous creature. "You could light the Cube on fire and listen to the screams of everyone inside as they burned to death. It wouldn't even turn your stomach. You could kill seven thousand people in a day and still sleep tonight."

"I do what has to be done," he said.

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but then closed it because the argument was one we'd had multiple times in the weeks since we had discovered that Bud Moon, one of the leaders of the Cube's governing body, had been experimenting with modifying the zombie virus.

Seth thought the best approach to dealing with a possible horde of insane super zombies was to kill them all before Bud got the opportunity to loose them on the world. Seth's plan was simple. Barricade all the Cube's exits, douse the place in napalm and strike a match.

Or, more accurately, shoot a rocket launcher at it. I didn't really want to know where Seth had gotten his hands on the rocket launcher. Or the tank that was currently sitting a hundred yards from the front gates of the Cube. Clearly, some defunct military base was missing much of its equipment.

"It's possible that no one inside the Cube has been infected," I said finally. "We don't know whether Bud has ordered for everyone to be injected with the modified virus or not. We don't even know if Bud is still inside the Cube. He could already be heading towards the city with an entire horde of zombies."

"Let's hope he's not." Seth pursed his lips and frowned in the direction of the Cube. "It doesn't make much sense for Bud to mass dose his people with a finicky and unreliable modified zombie virus. They'll all die."

"Bud doesn't care if his people live or die any more than you do." I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

Seth scowled at me. "Enough with the insults. That was uncalled for. I haven't intentionally killed anyone-."

I raised my eyebrows at him skeptically. Seth had plenty of blood on his hands and we both knew it.

"-who absolutely didn't need to die," he finished.

"Seth,-."

"I have a bad feeling about going into the Cube," he said unexpectedly. "I saw a lot of recent vehicle tracks around the gates when we were scouting the grounds of the Cube."