The Dead Series (Book 1): Week One of the Living

by John M. Davis

  It had gone to hell. As best they could tell, every major city in the United States and perhaps even the world over, had been infected by a virus of some sort. None of them knew how and none of them knew why. Concrete information was about as scarce as fresh water, edible food and real sleep.

  Derick knelt down for a moment, dabbing a cloth with cool water. He took a few seconds to clean the dirt from Lisa's face. They weren't an official item, but he'd taken on the responsibility of seeing that she was properly taken care of. Every group of survivors had a weak link – that much was inevitable. Theirs was Lisa. She couldn't help it, it just so happened that she was the one from an urban setting. For her, life had consisted of fancy attire and food served up beneath the perfect amount of lighting. In the life before zombies, Lisa had been the most successful. Now, with ravenous dead at pretty much every turn, she was paying the price for her prior life of privilege.

  “We can't stay here for too long, can we?” Pam asked Rudy.

  Though her thoughts remained on Derick, offering a passing glance.

  It should have been her. Pam had known Derick her entire life and fancied him for nearly the same amount of time. How in God's name could he been so swoon by a city girl from Los Angeles?

  “No we can't,” Rudy replied. Glancing from the second story window of the suburban home, he peeled the curtains back just enough to look around. Darkness had officially taken hold and countless dead stiffs stumbled around outside. “But we need to stay here for the night. I'll take first watch and we'll begin trading off in a few hours. Derick, I'll wake you next so get some sleep.”

  “I'm not even tired,” Derick admitted. “If you want, I can-”

  “You need sleep,” Rudy insisted. As a military man, he could easily see that the next strongest in his group was beyond the normal threshold of fatigue. “Force it if you have to. We'll be moving a lot tomorrow. We all need to rest.”

  Derick still didn't like the idea, but shook his head. He knew that Rudy was being as honest as he could be. That had been his way.

  “We're not heading for the nearest military base anymore, are we?” Lamar asked.

  Rudy nodded. “No.”

  “I thought that was the plan?” Derick asked. Raising up from the spot on the bedroom floor that he'd deemed his spot.

  “It was,” Rudy replied. “But I haven't seen a single military plane fly over all day. They could be conserving fuel, I suppose. My intuition tells me that they aren't flying over anymore because they're either not alive or they've given this part of the map up entirely. Meaning we're overrun with dead.”

  “Then what do we do?” Lisa asked.

  She was the one person who still believed the U.S. Army would somehow intervene and save them all. Even with Rudy, a downed combat pilot painting the grimmest of pictures, Lisa didn't want to accept the truth.

  “Well, I've been thinking a lot about that,” he admitted. “I believe our best hope of survival right now is to make our way to the coast. Down around Wilmington somewhere. There's a decent chance of finding a boat and the population is lower out that way. We could hold out for a while.”

  “Until this all blows over?” Lisa asked.

  “This isn't blowing over...don't you get that?”

  “Rudy-” Derick began.

  “No, she needs to hear it,” Rudy countered. “I'm not trying to be a total prick here. But I do need to be a realist. Lisa, there are dead bodies outside this window by the hundreds. The only reason they don't storm up here right now and start ripping tendons from bones is the fact that they don't know we're up here-”

  “And the fact that we have the bottom floor of the house barricaded like Fort Knox.” Lamar said proudly.

  Rudy nodded.

  “The hard truth of it is,” Rudy began. Thinking of his next words very carefully. “Is most of us won't be alive this time next year. Hell, none of us may be. But in order to survive the world as it is now, you need to toughen up. You need to understand that those fucking things want you dead and worse. No grand army is coming to rescue you. Trust me, I know. I was a part of the grandest army on Earth and we were getting our asses kicked. Pam has stepped up. Instead of wallowing around in a puddle of tears, she's learned how to handle a weapon and what we need to scavenge. Lamar has a good handle on what we do in order to survive another day. Derick is strong willed-”

  “But I'm weak, right?” Lisa asked.

  Rudy looked at her with apology.

  “Fine.” Lisa said with a stern tone.

  She then grabbed several of her belongings, including her sleeping bag and left to go downstairs.

  Derick stood up shortly after.

  “She can't go down there by herself.”

  Of course. Pam thought. Romeo to the rescue.

  “They don't give me any credit whatsoever.” Lisa complained.

  Derick hushed her with his finger.

  Zombies? Had the dead somehow found their way inside? She wondered. Beginning to look around with fear.

  Instead, Derick leaned in and kissed her with unrelenting passion.

  “I give you all of the credit in the world.”

  Lisa finally smiled.

  “I've got a plan of my own.” he admitted.

  “What?”

  “There are plenty of things down here on the first floor of this house that we can use. You sleep. I'll gather what I can and then tomorrow, right before first light, you and I can sneak away and find our own way. I can protect you.”

  She didn't know what to think. Looking him over with investigative eyes, Lisa finally smiled wide.

  “OK.”

  ** **

  “What do you make of it?” Carlos asked.

  They lay in the back of a large bed truck along the interstate, just before crossing over into the city limits of Charlotte. Both of them lay flat, sneaking a peek over the side of the truck's bed every few seconds.

  Hundreds of infected traveled as a group. They were still howling wild and man would pause long enough to further gorge on a human carcass that had been resting in the sun for days. Already picked of its organs and good flesh. The most eerie sight, however, was that a single infected seemed to be leading them. Shouting to the infected followers in some sort of very foreign tribal language.

  “I dunno,” A.K. said. Ultimately realizing that the alpha infected was like the one who'd eaten old man Murphy. “But it ain't good.”

  “Goddam things have a brain or something.”

  “One of them does anyway.” A.K. admitted.

  “OK,” Carlos said. He breathed in deep, holding a shotgun against his chest and praying that they weren't found. “So I guess we just lay here and wait for them to pass.”

  “Then what?”

  “Do I look like Nostradamus or something?”

  “No,” A.K. said with a grin. “You look like some dirty lowlife laying in the back of a truck, same as me.”

  Carlos smiled wide.

  Nearly an hour had passed. Finally, the howls of infected were gone.

  “Who's first?” A.K. asked.

  “I'll go.”

  Carlos eased himself over the edge of the truck's bed and slithered to his feet like a snake. A.K. followed close behind.

  “I'm trying to think like a survivor here in Charlotte.” Carlos said.

  “Of course,” A.K. said with a sudden wind of hope. “I remember from my time as a street cop. The post office down town has a fallout shelter beneath it. I believe it was built during the span of World War 2, though. It may not be worth looking into. But they could have tried evacuating people there.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Carlos stopped to watch as plumes of black smoke rose from what once had been a pretty quiet city. The air was thick and ash gray in appearance. Normally what you'd expect to see just prior to a heavy rain storm...but without the rain. “But getting there without getting killed is going to be a problem.”

  “Lots of infected.” A.K. agreed.

  “We need
to think outside the box a little. Nothing that would have been a definitive place for people to run. Let's face it, even if there is a shelter beneath the post office and even if people made it there when this first cut loose; I doubt anyone is going to let us in.”

  The thought hadn't occurred at first, but Carlos was right. People were surely out there somewhere and they were also sure to be scared shitless. It wasn't like survivors would just open a vault door when they came knocking.

  “We need something near the interstate,” Carlos suggested. “A place where people may have gotten trapped, but still big enough to support long-term survival.”

  “The Carolinas Medical Center.” A.K. said.

  Carlos looked his way with curiosity.

  “I mean it makes sense,” A.K. began. “Places like universities, hospitals, sports stadiums – they'd all make fine spots to try and hold out. The Carolinas Medical Center is like a fortress. I used to take inmates,” he paused for a moment. Lowering his voice. “I used to drive inmates to and from the doctor there.”

  “It could be worth a shot.” Carlos nodded.

  “We could walk it in an hour or so, but there's always a chance we'll get cornered. If the dead are this concentrated on the interstate leading into the city...”

  “Especially the closer we get,” Carlos agreed. “If we're going to have infected running at us either way, I'd prefer to take a stab at this inside of a vehicle.”

  They both glanced in front of them. There were literally thousands of vehicles to choose from. Some had plenty of gas, other had likely been rushed out with no real plan to speak of. But there was a seemingly endless garden of potential awaiting their picking hands.

  “I always did want a Hummer.” A.K. smiled.

  “Well it's settled then,” Carlos grinned. “You can drive since you know the way. Before we go, I think we should scavenge what we can; maybe give ourselves an hour of daylight before starting this run of ours.”

  Both men looked at a silver Hummer not even a quarter of a mile away. Ironically, the driver's door stood open. Its owner had likely been caught in the first wave of attacks, panicked and decided to flee on foot...the poor bastard.

  It wasn't armored like the military version, but the SUV was still a lot better than most cars they could have chosen. After looking things over for a few moments, A.K. realized that handful of cars would need to be moved out of the way. At that point the Hummer could be taken off of the hard top and they could then use the short grass at the side of the interstate to bypass pretty much all of the congested automobiles.

  ** **

  Derick sifted through the cabinets quietly. He worried about too much noise sparking the interest of infected outdoors, but he also did what he could to avoid drawing the attention of the group upstairs.

  What am I doing? He thought as he placed a can of condensed soup into his bag. Am I making the right decision?

  Glancing into the living room, he watched Lisa sleep for a few moments. She was like an angel. Weak, OK he'd give Rudy that much. He didn't like hearing it, either. But there was no argument to be had. In another life he would have passed Lisa in a crowded mall and they would have never thought twice. She would have smiled and went about her business. He would have admired her beauty and then began realizing that he was nothing more than an oxygen delivery guy with zero chance.

  But now he was a protector.

  Derick the Protector.

  It kind of had a ring to it. He certainly didn't know everything there was to know about zombies. Hell, Lamar didn't either. Comic books? Even the U.S. Army didn't have a clue as to what to do. Everyone was learning as they went, including him.

  Including Lisa.

  She was so frail and defenseless. He had to do this.

  With his pack filled up with canned food and a handful of snack foods, Derick moved to the refrigerator. He was smart enough to unplug it, prior to opening the door. Any type of bright light could have bled outside and alerted the dead. Sure, they had the place barricaded pretty well but he wasn't delusional. Hundreds of dead against a double-locked door?

  Ensuring that the slight hum of the refrigerator had stopped, he peeled the door open queitly. Derick started shoving bottles of water into a second pack.

  Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck raised like the dead.

  “What are you doing?” Rudy asked.

  Yea, he's originally planned to leave like a thief in the night. But he wasn't about to deny the fact that he was leaving.

  “What's it look like?”

  “When did you plan on taking off?”

  “First light.” Derick admitted.

  Rudy stood for a few moments, brow beating him.

  “Come on, you know it has to be done,” Derick whispered. “You said it yourself, Lisa's too weak to make it on her own.”

  “That doesn't mean you have to take care of her.”

  “Sure I do. You all have treated her like a disease since we left the diner. Who's going to look after her? You? Lamar?”

  Rudy turned away for a moment. The truth stung him a bit.

  “If I'm going to be the one to do it, I at least want to do it on my terms.”

  “She's going to get you killed.” Rudy warned.

  “If she does – she does,” Derick replied. “The truth is, having Lisa need me is the most alive I've felt in a very long time.”

  Rudy nodded. Placing his hand on Derick's shoulder for a moment out of respect.

  “You can't scavenge peoples homes forever. Eventually you're going to need some kind of real plan.”

  “Yea, I know.” Derick admitted.

  “Move during the day – find a place to tuck your ass into at night. It goes without saying, but still.”

  Derick shook his head.

  “You know what solar panels look like?”

  “Yea.”

  “Good,” Rudy said. “Try to find some. It may take a while, but there out there. Get your hands on some and then you find a house that's solid. As far away from the city as you can get. A solar panel is worth a hundred guns and they're getting more valuable with each day that goes by. You understand?”

  “Why are you telling me all of this?” Derick questioned.

  “Because If I had a woman to take care of, that's what I would be doing,” he replied. “There's virtually no chance of finding a vault to get yourself into. Not now. So you find some panels and you get yourself away from the horde. Build your own damn vault.”

  Derick could appreciate his concern.

  “Do me a favor.” he said.

  “Name it.” Rudy replied.

  “Look after Pam for me. I don't want anything to happen to her.”

  “Pam's strong. She'll be just fine.”

  As Derick watched Rudy ease back up the staircase, he looked around for several moments. It was quiet. A little too quite for his liking.

  Since the outbreak first began, he'd had no real time to ease up and relax. Every lasting moment had been spent running and shooting – praying for another day. Now here they were. Part of the group was tucked in soundly upstairs while Rudy watched over them and Derick was pulling watch down below. Watching Lisa sleep.

  He contemplated doing it for several moments; finally deciding he'd try. When would they have another opportunity? If they were leaving out at first light, he and Lisa would likely be running for days before they had another opportunity to relax.

  Tip-toeing his way to her, Derick began to brush his hand across her cheek very gently. Finally she woke up, but wasn't startled. She smiled.

  “Hey,” she began. “Time already?”

  “No. It's still late night.”

  He then leaned in to kiss her. Hoping like hell that he'd not be rejected. If he was going to flee the group and take the beautiful woman under his protection out in what had become a horrifically cruel world, we wanted to make love to her.

  Apparently Lisa wanted the same thing.

  Hours later, Derick's eyes sl
id open.

  It wasn't the crackling of sunlight, which he had expected to wake up. But rather the desperate cries of Lisa. Somehow, the dead had found their way inside.

  She was pinned in against the sink in the next room – kicking up at one of the infected plague-bearers for her life. Derick sprang to his feet and began to hustle into the kitchen. Quickly finding himself in the midst of three more.

  How the fuck?

  The boards had not been pried from the windows. The front door was still locked twice over, with a large bookshelf pushed in its path. But the basement door stood open.

  Shit!

  Making things worse, the growls of starving dead echoed around as lots of feet made their way up the steps.

  “Lisa!” he shouted.

  Just as loudly, footsteps of the living shuffled downstairs in order to find out what was going on. Rudy knew right away that it was over.

  “Derick,” he shouted. “You can't save her!”

  “I've got to.”

  Derick fired a few blind shots in the dark, taking caution in not aiming them anywhere near the woman he loved. But there were now at least a dozen dead infecting shuffling about. Lisa continued to cry, but the tone of her pleading had changed. They'd gotten to her.

  Derick began to chop his way to Lisa, using the heel of his pistol.

  “Derick-” Rudy said.

  He grabbed the desperate man from behind, wrapping both of his strong arms around his torso. Soon after, he began dragging him up the stairs.

  “Let me go!”

  “Derick,” Rudy argued. “She's gone. He screams are gone.”

  Derick pulled away with aggression, but didn't try to get to her. Rudy was right. The dead had overtaken her in her sleep and were already mauling at her flesh. He could hear their snarls of murder.

  “Goddam it!” he shouted.

  “Derick, we need to get upstairs and block the staircase while we still can.” Rudy said with desperation in his voice.

  He said nothing. But Derick began up the staircase in shock. His body tingled with surreal numbness. He questioned wanting to live.