Dead America The Third Week Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-6 ]

by Slaton, Derek

  Kenny slung his trusty weapon over his shoulder, already glad he’d brought it with him. “One floor down. Twenty-six to go.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Floor 26

  Kenny positioned himself against the door to the apartment, looking through the peephole into the hallway. He could see a lone zombie right in front of the door facing to the left, but he couldn’t see too far down either direction despite the fish-eye curvature of the lens. It looked like there were a few poorly-spaced out emergency lights out there, but at least they were functioning since the main power to the building was out.

  Okay, one in front, he thought, stepping back from the door. Closest stairwell to the left. You got this, Kenny.

  He took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists, bouncing from foot to foot. It was just like he would have psyched himself up before a ball is snapped on the field. In his head, he visualized a football being hiked to the quarterback, and the image and feeling he conjured was enough to get him moving.

  He threw open the door and grabbed the hallway zombie by the scruff of the shirt, jerking it back into the apartment. He slammed the door quickly, trapping the surprised ghoul inside.

  The noise attracted the attention of a trio of creatures up the hall, in the direction of the stairwell. He froze for a moment, trying to make a snap decision whether he should turn and make a run for the stairs on the opposite side. Moans echoed from behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder at a cluster of zombies guarding that end as well.

  Looks like I’m playing through, he thought, and took a deep breath, pulling the sledgehammer back from his shoulders. He sprinted towards the rotted triad, lined up in a staggered formation of about three to four feet apart from each other.

  Kenny used his speed to close the gap quickly, knowing if he took them on one at a time he’d have a better chance. He held the hammer like a knight would use a jousting lance, straight out in front of him.

  The business end slammed into the lead zombie’s chest like a battering ram, giving a satisfying crack as the creature’s chest caved in. The impact sent it flying back into one of its friends like a rag doll, knocking them both to the floor. Instead of sticking around to finish them off, Kenny opted to leap over the writhing corpses, landing just in front of the third zombie.

  As it lunged for him, he sidestepped it just as he would a potential tackler on the field. He chucked it aside with such force that it left a dent in the wooden paneled wall. He couldn’t help but think that maybe he’d picked a cheap building to buy a penthouse in considering the ease of the damage, a scattered and panicked thought as he sprinted towards the stairwell.

  He moved like the wind, the obstacles now out of the way, but forced himself to stop just short of the door.

  Calm down now, buddy, he chastised himself, huffing as he stared at the door handle. Don’t get too excited, now. You know what happens when you go overboard with things, you get beat. Just like your first college game where you thought you had it, but ended up whiffing and watching from the ground as your man scored a touchdown. Now do this right, and you’ll get out of this.

  He steadied his breath as he slowly opened the door, keeping his hand tight around the handle in case he needed to slam it shut on any surprises. Thankfully, nothing grabbed at him as he opened it, and his hammer arm relaxed a touch. As he stepped into the stairwell, he glanced back at the zombies he’d barreled over, seeing that they were finally finding their footing again. He slipped onto the landing, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

  Unfortunately, the click was so loud that it echoed through the tall corridor. He winced at the noise, and didn’t have any time to mentally berate himself before the moans began.

  They echoed around, but it seemed to mostly be coming from below, with several from above as well. He leaned over to look up, and saw a dozen or so monsters up on the landing above him.

  No time to think. He tore down the stairs, taking them two at a time, hoping to put as much distance as he could before he had to start fighting. He paused on the next landing as a body careened down the center of the stairwell, having fallen off in its undead clumsiness. It bounced off of the railing, slamming from side to side as it plummeted to the ground below.

  He continued running until the groans became deafening in their closeness. He skidded to a stop on a landing and noted the veritable dozens of zombies bustling over each other to try to get up to him on the next flight. He contemplated taking them on, figuring he could just shove them down, but he didn’t know how many were really behind and how far down they went. He turned to the hallway door.

  Getting closer, he thought as he noted the large 23 on the sign. He threw open the door without thinking, and as soon as he stepped into the hallway a pair of bloodied squishy hands reached for him. He attempted to leap back, but the thing got a death grip on his shirt and jerked him into the hallway, the stairwell door slamming shut behind him.

  Kenny twisted away, bracing his back against the wall to avoid lurching over. The zombie was huge, his own height and easily two hundred and twenty pounds. He braced a hand against its chest, struggling to keep it at bay while he attempted to get his knife from its sheath with his other.

  The creature snapped at him, teeth gnashing, crimson spittle flying everywhere as it snarled with hunger. Moans echoed from beyond, and Kenny looked past the ghoulish face to see two more friends lumbering towards him.

  His stomach tightened as he tried to protect his tender flesh. He knew he was wrong, but nowhere near strong enough to force this gigantic rotted dude back into them.

  Need to get creative, he thought, and then threw his body into a spin. He used the weight of the clumsy beast as an anchor and slammed it into the wall with the force of it. He applied as much pressure as he could to keep it there, using the momentum of his spin to kick his foot into the chest of the first incoming creature.

  While he innately winced at his bad form, it did the job, and the force of the blow was enough to knock the zombie back into its friend, sending them both tumbling back to the floor. With a brief window to strike, Kenny managed to pull his father’s knife from its sheath and stabbed the big boy right through the eye.

  He tore himself free of the nasty grip, and before the rotund zombie even hit the ground, he had his sledgehammer in his hand. He brought it down hard in quick succession to put an end to the two writhing bodies on the ground.

  With the immediate threat eliminated, he took a breath, looking up and down the hall, but froze as the stairwell zombies began pounding on the door. He slung his trusty hammer back over his shoulder and bent down to grab the knife from its gooey target, wiping it on the zombie’s shirt before sheathing it.

  Okay, gotta get to the other side of the building, he thought. Nothing to it, you got it buddy. He cracked his knuckles, moving as slowly and quietly as he could to the corner. He didn’t know what would be over there, but he hoped whatever there was hadn’t been spooked or alerted by any of the noise—not to mention the now constant banging from the stairwell door.

  The hallway was just dim enough that he had to strain his eyes as he walked, and he shook his head. The building owners should have sprung for the solar package, he thought, though he was unable to truly distract himself with humor.

  The hallway was long, reaching a central lobby area where the elevator was, three equally-long corridors running in each cardinal direction. Kenny peered down each one, but could only see about halfway down with the crap emergency lights.

  Moans echoed from the ones to the left and right, but thankfully the one with the stairwell was the one straight ahead. Creatures staggered out of the darkness, and he gave them a wave.

  “Guess that’s my cue to get moving,” he said, and took off at a jog. Groans erupted ahead of him, and he skidded to a stop, drawing his hammer again. He blinked rapidly at the dozen or so creatures packed into the relatively narrow hallway.

  Think man, think, he thought frantically, and
looked around. He stared at the apartment door next to him, and frowned, but then back over his shoulder, where the other two groups of zombies fought past each other to get around the corners to him. He shook his head in frustration and turned to the door, smashing the handle with the hammer.

  It partially opened, but was still hung up. He could almost feel the zombies’ rotted flesh grazing him, and he gave a loud grunt as he swung harder, this time successfully breaking open the door.

  He rushed inside, and was met with a family of zombies.

  Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he thought at the sight of blood covering almost every surface of the place. A young woman struggled to crawl towards him from the kitchen, enough flesh missing from its legs that it couldn’t stand anymore. The parental units were the most put-together, and staggered towards him from the living room, a young boy gasping and gargling from the bathroom, arms outstretched.

  Kenny sprinted forward, using his shoulders to knock the parents apart. He vaulted over the couch and threw open the patio door, leaping out onto the balcony and shutting it behind him. He backed away from the glass, watching the family turn to approach his new prison. The hallway zombies flooded into the apartment behind them, quickly filling the living room with a mosh pit of the dead.

  “Well, now what, Kenny?” he asked himself, running a hand over his head. He turned around, looking over at the balcony next to the one he stood on. He sighed. “All of a sudden, starving to death in a few weeks isn’t sounding so bad.”

  He inched to the edge of the balcony, and made the mistake of looking down. He stepped back, dizzy from the height, and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself.

  “Eight feet,” he murmured, slitting his eyes to focus on the balcony across from him. “It’s just eight feet. I can do that, easy.” He stuck a hand out to feel the breeze direction, hoping it would be on his side. He would just have to hope the wind would cooperate. “Never know when a gust is gonna come along and ruin your day,” he said, and scrubbed his hands down his face.

  He took off the hammer and tossed it across. It landed with a thud and clatter on the concrete on the other side, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, shaking out his hands. The zombies behind him reached the door, slapping the glass with their dead hands.

  “Ready for a show?” he called over his shoulder. “Kenjuan Morris, making the eight-foot leap from the death line.” He clambered up on top of the railing, and bent his knees, like a frog about to hop.

  Before he could overthink it, he pushed off with a grunt. As if mother nature were giving him the finger, a gust of wind smacked him in the face, blunting his forward progress. He threw his hands out, reaching to grab, something, anything. His arms went right through the slats in the railings, smacking down on the hard concrete, and he scrabbled for a moment before managing to get a good grip on two of the bars.

  He took a deep breath, locking his shoulders, and heaved himself up, reaching up with one hand to grab the top of the railing. After making sure he had a solid grip, he moved his other hand, and then swung his legs up and over. He tumbled onto his back, but was thankful for hard concrete as opposed to plummeting to an early grave in the parking lot twenty-three stories down.

  Kenny laid still for a moment, catching his breath, and then slowly peeled himself off of the floor into a sitting position. The patio faced away from the beach, towards the rest of South beach and downtown Miami. He was too far away to get much detail in the high rises of downtown, but there were definitely plumes of smoke rising from the city.

  Six, maybe eight, it was difficult to tell because many were twisting together into giant smoke stacks. It was almost mesmerizing, seeing the world burn like this, knowing it wouldn’t stop until the fire got tired.

  He startled at the sound of shattering glass, heart stopping. He relaxed a touch when he realized it was the patio door from the balcony he’d just jumped from, and turned to watch the zombies cluster outside.

  “Y’all couldn’t resist the view either, huh?” he asked, shaking his head and chuckling. “Take a good look, because you’ll never see anything like it again.” He paused for a moment, sobering at the insinuation.

  He probably wouldn’t ever see anything like it again, either.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Floor 23

  Kenny caught his breath for another minute, dreading getting to his feet to face what was surely to be just another shitshow. He wanted to stay positive, but he’d only made it three floors and barely escaped with his life.

  Come on, buddy, get the hell up, he thought, and peeled himself off of the concrete floor of the patio. He readied his sledgehammer and wrapped his hand around the door handle, taking a deep breath before opening it.

  He waited for a moment, straining his ears, and then stepped inside. Nothing jumped out at him in the immediate vicinity, so he held his hammer with both hands and let out a whistle to see if that would draw anything out of the woodwork.

  To his surprise, nothing appeared.

  “About time I got a break,” he muttered, and then headed across the cavernous living room. His steps echoed on the hardwood floor, trainers giving off little rubbery squeaks. He crept to the front door and stared out the peephole, and his heart immediately sank. It was wall-to-wall zombies out there, and that was just what he could see.

  Doesn’t look like I’m going that way, he thought bitterly, and then retreated back out to the patio, taking in deep lungfuls of air. The zombies on the balcony he’d vacated earlier moaned, arms reaching for him over the railing.

  “So what would y’all do in my situation?” he asked them, putting his hands on his hips. He paused, cupped a hand to his ear, and pretended to listen to the undead monsters. “Yeah, that’s not a bad suggestion, but I don’t think that’s gonna work out for me.” He looked over the edge at the dizzying distance of the ground, and let out a long sigh through his teeth.

  He stepped back and secured his hammer back around his shoulders. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to go all daredevil.” He shook his head, looking to the sky for a moment and clucking his tongue at what he was about to do.

  He climbed over the railing, turning around to face the building as he secured his shoes on the outer lip. “Get the penthouse, my realtor said,” he grunted as he began to lower himself down. “It’s a beautiful view, he said.” He managed to get a good grip on the edge of the concrete before slowly letting his feet dangle down. “It’ll only increase in value, he said.”

  He looked down to gauge his fall, the same distance that he’d had to go when he jumped down into Jerry and Karen’s apartment. Only this time, he had to fall at an angle, so definitely more difficult.

  Kenny growled. “If that realtor ain’t dead I’m gonna smack him when I see him.”

  He began kicking his legs forward to build momentum, like a kid swinging on the monkey bars. He counted down silently, and then heaved forward, letting go.

  He was only in the air for a split second, but it was easily one of the most terrifying moments of his life. Falling from a twenty-third floor balcony was nerve wracking, even with being able to see the landing spot below.

  He hit the concrete and stumbled forward, managing to catch himself before face planting. He took a knee, leaning on it with his thick arm to catch his breath, and then startled at a loud smack on the patio door.

  He looked up, seeing a lone zombie banging on the glass from the inside. It was small and lean, maybe even a teenager, and didn’t have any visible wounds.

  Must have been infected from the get go, Kenny thought, shaking his head. It was almost worse to see one without any bites or fight marks. The zombie looked more like a ghost than anything else, just gray with silvery eyes. Poor dude never had a chance.

  He pulled on the door, but it didn’t give. Locked.

  Paranoid even this high up. He shrugged at his reflection in the glass. Of course, I’m on the outside looking in, so maybe it was warranted.

  He pu
lled his sledgehammer from his back and reared back, swinging hard. The glass cracked, but didn’t shatter. He stepped to the side and swung it like a baseball bat, lining it up so that it went straight through the glass and smacked the zombie in the chest on the way in. He let the hammer go, leaving it to its momentum, stepping back so that he didn’t get any of the falling glass on his skin.

  The zombie flopped around on the floor for a moment and then regained its footing. Kenny reached for his knife, but then stopped, a smile curling his lips.

  As the corpse crossed the jagged threshold, he grabbed it by the front of the shirt and the belt buckle. He lifted the groaning creature over his head and hurled it off of the balcony. He peered over the edge, watching the undead monster flail its limbs as it plummeted to the ground below. It hit the asphalt and liquefied, guts spraying across the ground like a Fourth of July fireworks display.

  “Closest thing I’m getting to entertainment today,” he declared, and saluted the fallen zombie before heading inside.

  He picked up the hammer and shook it, making sure there were no errant glass chunks attached. He made his way to the front door, sweeping his eyes across the apartment as he went to make sure there was nobody else skulking about. Once clear, he stepped up to the door.

  He peered through the peephole, this time seeing nothing. It was a welcome sight, but he was still wary.

  Let’s see how this goes, he thought, and slung the chain over his shoulder, drawing his knife in case there was a close encounter. He inched the door open and peeked out, slowly poking his head into the hallway to look both ways. It was thankfully empty, but he didn’t want to press his luck, so he closed the door as carefully and quietly as possible behind him.

  The click of the latch, while quiet, still boomed in his ears, and he stayed stock still, listening as hard as he could for any potential moans. Still nothing.