Dead South Series (Book 1): Dead South

by Bohannon, Zach

  But he made it to the backyard safely, and most of it was covered in dirt, with only the occasional weed coming up out of the ground. More weeds and vines had begun growing inside of the vehicles.

  “Alright, now where the fuck is that part?”

  There had to be nearly a hundred vehicles, all in varying conditions. Most of them had been wrecked. Many had nothing but an engine with the bare remains of a frame around it. As he made his way around, Jon saw a couple of motorcycles lying down near the middle of the yard.

  One bike lay on top of the other, and the one on the bottom looked similar to his. It was nothing but a frame and the motor with no tires on it. Squatting down, he lifted the top bike up and pushed it over.

  “Jackpot.”

  The ignition coil was in its place, and he kneeled down to check the condition. It seemed fine. Definitely in better shape than the one on his bike. Jon put on a pair of mechanics gloves. Then he pulled out the tools he had brought with him and removed it.

  He stood and grinned, looking at the part in his hand.

  “That was easy.”

  The ignition coil was missing from the other bike, but he wondered if he should look around the yard for another just to be safe. Glancing up at the sky, he determined he had enough time to do some more scavenging.

  Jon took a few steps with that intention, and then heard the familiar snarls of the dead things. He ducked, hiding behind a nearby car. Once out of sight, he peeked through the windows in the direction from which he’d heard the sounds.

  Three zombies, their human bodies beyond recognition, staggered across the yard. They had all turned long ago, their heads bald and their pale skin now painted in shades of gray. Out on the open road or in the woods, Jon would have had no problem provoking the creatures and beating their dead brains in with his bat. But these weren’t normal circumstances. To attack the things with so many obstacles around him, and in a fenced-in area, would be stupid. Not to mention that he didn’t have his motorcycle with him in case he needed to make a quick escape. That would be too much of a thrill for even Jon. So, he ducked back down and decided to wait them out.

  Closing his eyes, he listened to their feet scrape across the earth. The things continued to make their way across the yard, and he heard them arrive at the far side of the house.

  Time to move.

  Jon got off the ground and into a squat, fighting the pain in his legs and back. Staying low, he worked his way to the rear of the vehicle and looked out again to check the zombies’ position. As predicted, they were at the opposite end of the yard from where the entrance was. He found cover behind the next car and continued to make his way out of the yard while being sure to keep an eye on the dead things. They continued on their same path.

  Jon stood all the way up and started back to the hole in the fence, keeping his eyes on the three zombies. They didn’t realize he was there, and even if they did, they were far enough away where he could run and block the fence before they made it over to him. So, he picked up his gait.

  Finally taking his eyes off of the creatures to check his distance from the fence, Jon stopped in his tracks.

  “Fuck.”

  Four more zombies hung around the outside of the fence, spitting and snarling. And before Jon could jump behind another vehicle, one of the monsters saw him.

  The creature screamed.

  This not only caused its counterparts to look up and spot Jon, but the ones on the other side of the yard glanced back, as well.

  Jon reached for his handgun in his holster. He gripped it with his clammy palm, but hesitated to pull it out. He’d already underestimated how many zombies were in the area. What if there were more? The howls of the creatures would only reach so far, and other zombies or people might just ignore them. But the blast of a gun was something entirely different. That could bring on an entire horde, or even draw the attention of any raiders in the area.

  He took his hand off of the gun and grabbed the bat off his back instead.

  I’m not fucked yet. Only use the gun if I’m fucked.

  Raising the bat, Jon glanced back and forth between the two groups.

  “Come on, you bastards. Which one of you wants it first?”

  12

  The creature which had initially spotted Jon got down to crawl under the space in the fence while the three zombies on the other end of the yard swayed toward him. One of those three monsters moved with more haste than the others, and Jon lifted the bat to his shoulder and swung. He connected with a shot on the zombie’s left ear, sending it crashing down to the earth.

  Jon heard the zombie that had crawled under the fence snarl behind him and swung the bat again, this time overhead, following the sound. The bat came down over the top of the creature’s head, cracking its skull like a coconut. Blood splashed up onto Jon’s face, leaving another crimson paint stroke on his bat. Another reminder of the shit this world had become.

  The other three zombies outside of the fence fought with each other to get through the gap, making it impossible for any of them to get to Jon for the moment. He turned his focus to the other two that were already in the yard.

  One of the creatures made a sudden lunge at him, and Jon narrowly dodged it. The maneuver gave him enough time to land a shattering blow on the other zombie. Jon hit it square in the nose, dropping it.

  Before Jon could catch his breath, the third zombie recovered from the missed tackle and came at him again. Jon managed a swing of the bat, but wasn’t agile enough to aim. He hit the creature in the shoulder, which did little to halt the zombie’s advances. The dead thing found a piece of Jon’s jacket, throwing him off balance and sending both of them down to the ground.

  The beast snapped its jaws inches from Jon’s face. Jon managed to get one hand up to hold the creature back, but the dead thing had the leverage. It also had Jon’s other hand pinned. He held the zombie by the throat as it tried to lock its jaws onto any piece of Jon’s flesh it could reach.

  Saliva dripped down onto Jon’s face as the creature screamed, its acrid breath billowing into Jon’s nostrils.

  Jon took his eyes off his assailant long enough to check the status of the other three zombies. One of them had made it halfway under the fence, the other two still keeping it from making it all the way through. But it was only a matter of time.

  Returning his attention back to his attacker, Jon gritted his teeth and pulled his trapped arm as hard as he could. It came loose, but when he went to join it with his other around the dead thing’s throat, the zombie grabbed onto Jon’s wrist and dug its decrepit nails into Jon’s arm.

  Jon screamed as the overgrown nails broke the skin. He briefly loosened his grip on the thing’s throat and the zombie snapped its jaws, almost taking off Jon’s nose. He pushed the dead thing away, squeezing its throat as if he could choke the life out of it. But though this thing walked the earth, it had been a long time since it had lived.

  The choking did cause the creature to loosen its grip on Jon’s arm long enough for him to pull it free. Jon reached for his knife at his waist while the zombie searched for his arm again. He found the hilt and released the blade from the holster, gripping it firmly in his hand and pointing the knife at the dead thing.

  Jon thrust the knife into the side of the zombie’s head, entering its brain through the temple. The snarls ceased, and the zombie’s dead weight fell all the way onto Jon’s body.

  A snarl sounded in Jon’s left ear. The other dead thing had made it under the fence and was getting up to its feet.

  Getting both his hands under the zombie, Jon exhaled as he pushed up. He grunted as the weight came off of him, giving Jon a sense of relief. With the zombie off, he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his feet. The next zombie reached its feet at nearly the same time.

  Jon saw his bat lying on the ground, too far away to reach. And he had left his knife lodged in the other zombie’s temple.

  With no other option, he drew his pistol.


  Aiming it at the center of the creature’s head, Jon pulled the trigger. His shot landed above the zombie’s right eye, dropping it instantly.

  The final two creatures stood outside of the fence, not even trying to get under through the opening now. Approaching the fence, Jon pointed the barrel through a gap in the chain-link and quickly shot each of the creatures in the head.

  With the snarling stopped and only the sound of the wind surrounding Jon, he drew in several breaths.

  More screams came then from behind Jon. They were in the distance, maybe a quarter of a mile away. Jon cursed. His gunshots had drawn the attention of others.

  Time to move.

  Jon picked up the bat and removed his knife from the creature’s skull before crawling under the fence.

  Fighting against the pain in his legs, Jon hurried towards the trees as the screams of the dead things drew closer.

  But he’d be out of sight before they got there.

  13

  Jon avoided confrontation with the dead and the living alike as he approached his home. He stared down at the ignition coil in his hand, shaking his head.

  “You better work for a long time and be worth all the goddamn effort.”

  Whether or not he would install the ignition coil that evening or not was another issue. More than anything, he wanted to crash into his bed when he got back to the cabin. But he worried about leaving his motorcycle out by the road any longer than he had to. After the close call with the zombies, Jon didn’t think he had the energy to get the bike up the hill. More than likely, nothing would happen to it, but there was always the off chance that drifters could come by and find it. Then all his trouble and nearly dying to get the coil would have been for nothing.

  He knew what he needed to do, and dreaded it.

  “But tomorrow, Jon, you’re not doing shit but lying around the fucking house.”

  Ahead, Jon spotted the edge of the tree line and the road his house was on. He felt a new surge of energy, knowing he was almost back to the cabin. He hoped that energy would hang around while he fixed the bike.

  Coming out of the trees, Jon turned to the left toward his cabin. And he froze.

  Two men, each of them armed, stood near his bike.

  Jon ducked behind a tree. He then glanced around it to watch the two men.

  They had uncovered Jon’s bike and stood it up. One of the men kneeled next to it, checking what was wrong with it.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jon whispered to himself.

  Wanting to get a closer look, Jon crept down the tree line, careful to stay out of sight. He shifted his gaze between the two assholes fucking with his bike and the ground, being cautious not to step on any branches. He stopped when he was across the two-lane road from the two men.

  “It’s definitely the ignition coil,” the man observing the bike said.

  “Easy fix?” the other asked.

  “Oh yeah. Pretty sure we’ve got the part back at our camp.”

  “Good. Keep an eye out down here. I’m gonna run up the driveway and see what we got. No telling what else this piece of shit has up in this cabin.”

  The man headed up Jon’s dirt driveway.

  Jon waited patiently, keeping his eyes on the lone guard left beside the road. The man stood with his hands held firmly on the gun, glancing left and right. Jon wondered how he could get a chance to cross the road and take the guard down without being noticed.

  The guard turned around and looked down at Jon’s bike. He took his right hand off of the gun to run it over the chrome, down the leather seat. He looked both ways again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. Jon hid behind the tree, just in case the man looked his way.

  Then, when the guard was sure no one was watching, he set the gun down and got on the bike.

  Jon's brow creased as he watched the guard sit on the saddle, pretending to rev the bike’s motor up and even making a couple of engine sounds under his breath. Jon stifled a laugh.

  You’ve got to be shitting me.

  The guy was like a little kid who’d gotten his uncle’s permission to sit on his bike. Even for Jon, it embarrassed him to watch it. But the ridiculous moment also opened up the perfect opportunity.

  He moved out from behind the tree and crossed the road, crouching down and keeping his steps light. The closer he got to his bike, the more he heard the guard making the ridiculous engine noises. Jon stood as he approached, planting his feet and wrapping his arm around the man’s neck.

  Jon’s arms bulged as he squeezed, pressing his right forearm against the guard’s throat and using his left hand to cover the man’s mouth, silencing the screams.

  The guard flailed his arms, first trying to pry Jon’s arm loose from his throat before looking to grab any part of Jon he could find.

  But he found nothing but death.

  The man’s weight fell into Jon, who was sure to hold onto him so that he didn’t fall off the bike, taking it down with him and making noise to garner the attention of the other guard up at the cabin. Fighting the pain in his injured leg, Jon eased the man off the bike and down onto the road.

  Jon stared down at the man, looking into his lifeless face to assure he was dead. Then he shifted his attention to the cabin.

  Gritting his teeth, he picked the assault rifle up off the ground, confirmed that it was loaded, and started up the gravel path to his home.

  14

  Jon stopped halfway up the hill, kneeling to check the ground for footprints. The gravel made it impossible. It could have only been the one guy he’d seen, or there could have been others who’d headed up there before he’d arrived. But whoever was up there would regret fucking with his shit.

  He continued up the hill, staying low and walking up the edge of the path so that his feet stepped on grass instead of the loud gravel rocks.

  As he neared the top of the hill, Jon heard two voices talking, confirming his fears. At least one other person, a man from the sound of the voice, had come to his cabin. Jon got to the top of the hill and ducked behind a nearby tree when he saw two men standing outside. One was the guy who had been down by the road messing with his bike. The other man wore a red baseball cap on top of his head and shared a similar build with Jon.

  “You think we’ll be able to get it open?” the mechanic who’d been working on Jon’s bike asked.

  “I hope so,” baseball cap said. “If he went out of his way to lock that chest up, there’s no telling what’s in there.”

  Jon’s blood boiled. He already felt violated by the men being on his property, but this took it to another level. He thought about the cigar box with the picture of his family sitting inside the top of that chest. Jon wanted to burst from behind the tree right then, run at the guys, and take their heads off with his bare hands. But he knew he had to be smarter than that.

  “Let me know,” the mechanic said. “I’m going to run down and check on Seth and get another look at that bike.”

  Yeah, you go check on Seth, asshole.

  The mechanic made his way back down the driveway, and Jon made sure to stay out of sight. He thought of tossing his knife at the guy, but refrained.

  Be patient.

  But he could only be so patient. It wouldn’t take long for the mechanic to realize that Seth hadn’t fallen asleep. Jon had to make a move quickly, and without alerting the man inside the cabin.

  Jon kneeled and picked up one of the rocks that made up the driveway. Rearing back, he tossed it behind the guard standing in his driveway. It landed in the tall grass and the man turned around, facing away from Jon.

  Stepping out from behind the tree, Jon drew his knife from his waist. He could have shot the man with the assault rifle, but he opted for the quieter, but riskier, option. He raised it up by the blade and aimed, then threw it as hard as he could, just as he had practiced for hours and hours on a tree behind the cabin. The knife soared through the air, sticking in the man’s back. He screamed, and at the same time, the mechanic called up the d
riveway, apparently having discovered Seth’s corpse next to Jon’s bike.

  Jon raced across the driveway to the squirming body and pulled the knife out of the man’s back. Blood seeped from the wound and the man cried out again. Jon grabbed the back of his head by the hair and ran the blade across his throat, soaking the ground beneath it in blood.

  “What the fuck?” the mechanic asked.

  Jon aimed the assault rifle down the driveway at the mechanic. Before the mechanic could react, Jon pulled the trigger, hitting the mechanic in the chest from around twenty yards. The impact shot him backward, and the mechanic’s back hit the gravel driveway.

  More gunshots rang out, but this time they didn’t come from Jon’s gun. Windows of his cabin shattered, the shots coming from the inside. Jon dived to the ground, covering his head as the shots kept coming. His supply shed stood only a short distance from where he lay, and Jon crawled across the grass and got behind it.

  The gunshots stopped.

  Jon breathed heavily as he sat with his back against the back of the shed before standing. He peeked around the side of the shed and caught only a glimpse of the man inside before he shot again. The bullet ricocheted off the metal shed, and Jon ducked behind it again for cover.

  “I’m only giving you one chance!” Jon called. “Get the hell out of my cabin, or you’re gonna die like your friends!”

  No response.

  Jon sighed. “We don’t have to do this! Three dead is enough!”

  Again, the man said nothing.

  “Alright,” Jon said to himself. “This is how you wanna play it?”

  Jon heard something hit the ground, bouncing with several metal clicks. He poked his head around the shed one more time and saw the grenade land near the dead guard’s body.