BOOKS 0 - 5
BY
Copyright
The Complete Dead State Series (Books 0 - 5)
Copyright © 2020 by Derek Shupert
Cover design by Derek Shupert
Cover art by Covers by Christian
Cover Copyright © 2020 by Derek Shupert
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictionally and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For information contact :
Derek Shupert
www.derekshupert.com
First Edition
Contents
Dead State: Catalyst
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Dead State: Fallout
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Dead State: Survival Road
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Dead State: Executioner
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Dead State: Immune
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Dead State: Evolved
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
SURVIVE THE FALL: POWERLESS WORLD - SNEAK PEAK
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About the Author
Also By Derek Shupert
THE COMPLETE DEAD STATE SERIES :
DEAD STATE : CATALYST (PREQUEL)
DEAD STATE : FALLOUT
DEAD STATE : SURVIVAL ROAD
DEAD STATE : EXECUTIONER
DEAD STATE : IMMUNE
DEAD STATE : EVOLVED
THE COMPLETE AFFLICTED SERIES :
GENESIS (PREQUEL)
PATIENT ZERO
RIPTIDE
DEAD RECKONING
THE HUNTRESS BANE SERIES :
THE HUNTRESS BANE (SHORT STORY)
TAINTED HUNTER
CRIMSON THIRST
THE COMPLETE BALLISTIC MECH SERIES :
DIVISION
INFERNO
EXTINCTION
PAYBACK
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DEAD STATE: CATALYST
A DEAD STATE SERIES NOVELLA
BOOK 0
BY
CHAPTER ONE
Evil is all around us, Madison. Just because it isn’t visible on the outside doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Sometimes, we have to look past the façade to truly see what’s lurking below the surface. Keep your guard up, and always remain vigilant, my sweet girl.
My father’s mantra. A man that always kept his guard up, regardless of who he was dealing with. For William Price, steadfastness was the most sacred possession a man could own. Without it, he was nothing more than a sheep.
From an early age, he drilled this bit of wisdom into my brain. “Don’t be a sheep, Madison. Be the wolf,” he’d say. Probably why it’s so ingrained into
my psyche to this day. Even though he has passed, his words breathe truer now than ever. There are infinitely more sheep trotting about in this world now, oblivious to the fact that they’re being led to the slaughter. I love you, Pop.
My eyes begin to glaze over from days gone by as I stare at a picture of my father and me. One of the few I have. It was taken in Hawaii almost two years ago. His smile was genuine. Not fake like he did on most occasions.
Lightning crackles to my right, illuminating the dark swollen clouds we’re flying through. It rips me from my thoughts. I lean to my right, and glance out of the small, round window. I search for sunlight, but find none within the ghastly, gray hue that has blanketed the sky.
Thunder rumbles. The private jet rattles and acts as if it wants to fall apart. My hands white knuckle the armrest. I’ve never been a big fan of flying. Especially in crummy weather.
The jet’s stewardess stops beside me. “Ms. Price, can I get you anything?” She smiles at me with her arms tucked behind her back. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and her makeup still looks pristine, even at this ungodly hour.
I grimace as the plane jostles about again. “A smoother ride would be nice.”
She continues smiling and nods. “The captain has informed me that we should be passing through the worst of the storm shortly. Can I get you another coffee or something more to eat?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.” I glance out the window, then back to her. “How much longer until we land?”
She removes the empty plate and cold coffee mug from the table in front of me. “I believe we still have roughly four hours to go.”
My body deflates.
“Please let me know if you need anything else, Ms. Price.”
I nod.
She walks past me as thunder continues to torment the ether just outside the plane. I need a distraction to ease my mind. My body is tired and spent, both physically and emotionally.
The last thing I wanted to do right now was to come out on another assignment, but Vincent did a good job of convincing me to think otherwise.
Vincent Reigns, CEO of Beacon Intl, is a long-time colleague of my father’s. My father helped Vincent on some past projects, providing insight and analysis for him. One of Vincent’s main passions, aside from his numerous business ventures, is history.
He is obsessed. He actually takes a large portion from his company, the Beacon’s, main holdings to fund expeditions all over the world. When he catches wind of a possible archeological find, he jumps on it. He spends money like there’s no possible way he’ll run out of it.
When he called me about his latest find, he did just that. Dollar signs clung to the air as I listened to him speak. Figures rolled from his tongue like water from a faucet. Mind you, I’m not hurting for money. I’m too frugal to ever lose what I have.
But bribing me with an enormous amount of money wasn’t Vincent’s angle. He took a different approach.
History.
Much like him, I am captivated by it. Probably why I ended up as a freelance archeologist and consultant. A tomb raider even. I have seen and been a part of many amazing expeditions. Unearthed finds that have given us so much more insight into the past. But this latest find was something I haven’t been a part of, yet.
My hands relax, allowing the blood to fill in the white splotches on the tops of them. I reach down to my satchel on my left, and sift through the contents inside, retrieving a manila folder. I sit up straight and open it.
Inside are photos and other documents of Vincent’s current project—an ice man that is perfectly preserved.
He has already excavated the body and taken it to one of his research centers nearby in the frozen land. Although initial reports have shown promising data, Vincent is a thorough man. Much how he valued my fathers’ input, he now looks to me for that same insight.
My involvement is simple. Once onsite, evaluate the find and determine its legitimacy.
I am excited by the notion, but to be candid, I always reserve any judgment until I have given the evidence and subject its proper due. Regardless of how much it teases me so.
For Vincent, it is much the same. A find that would surely be remarkable. And lucrative. Even with his lust for history, his lust for wealth is not far behind.
I yawn and stretch my arms. The weather seems to have calmed down. Brief flashes of lightning flicker off in the blackness of night, but nothing more than that.
I pull the cover down over the window, and sink into the rich brown leather chair. Its heated warmth cradles me like a lover. I lace my arms across my chest and close my eyes.
My father enters my thoughts as I drift in and out of consciousness.
CHAPTER TWO
An endless sea of the past and present collide in my head. Despite the soothing comfort of the plush chair I’m in, I can’t stay the thoughts bombarding my mind.
My father’s passing.
The storm we have passed through.
And finally, the find of the century.
It’s all too much for me to brush to the side. My brain keeps processing while I try to dial it down.
Fine. The rampant thoughts stewing on the meaty parts of my intellect have won.
I sit up and stretch. My fingers reach for the ceiling as I groan. I rub my eyes with the heel of my hands, clearing the haze from my vision.
Through the window, the sun’s strident rays shine on the seat across from me. I reach over and lift up the window cover. My eyes take in the cloudless, clear blue sky. A smile breaks across my face.
Below, and just to the left of the jet’s wing, I spot my home for the next week or so—a frozen white wasteland as far as the eye can see. Void of any structures or civilization, the desolate, snow-covered land sends a shiver slithering up my spine.
“Ms. Price, we’ll be landing in roughly an hour. Mr. Reigns has your gear and attire prepared for you in the aft portion of the plane. You are free to change now if you’d like to do so.”
The stewardess holds out her arm, and directs my attention to the rear of the plane.
“Thank you. Could I possibly bother you for a cup of coffee? I didn’t get much sleep, and I need to wake up.”
She smiles and nods. “Of course, Ms. Price. Would you like any creamer this time?”
“Black is fine, with a bit of sugar.”
“I’ll prepare a fresh pot while you’re getting changed,” she responds.
She walks toward the cockpit. I unlatch my safety belt and stand up. My legs are sore from being stagnant for so long. I run my hands up and down my thighs, trying to get the blood circulating once more.
I stumble back to the overly large facilities where my winter attire awaits. Vincent was more than ready to have me on this expedition of his. He has provided all of the clothing and gear that I need in this chilled rigid weather.
I strip down to my unmentionables, and skim over the garments Vincent has provided. Each piece of raiment is bulky and overly sized. Plain in its visual appeal, the drab garment at least appears to be insulated well enough. Hopefully, it should keep the bite of the bitter cold from getting to me.
Layer by layer, I load down with the thermal vestments. There are no rags or cheaply made garments here. Every piece works perfectly with the others.
I take my clothes and load them into the black duffle that is sitting in the corner before checking myself in the mirror. My eyes are slightly puffy with a black and blue hue resting under both. I turn on the water and splash the cold liquid against my face, trying to erase the sleepiness.
The overhead speaker crackles.
“This is the captain. We will begin our final approach shortly. Please make sure that you are seated and secured.”
I dab my face with a lavender colored towel, then retrieve the duffle from the floor and exit the lavatory. The stewardess approaches me.
“Ms. Price, I have your coffee on the table for you. Can I get you anything else?”
“No. That
will be all. Thank you.”
She walks past me.
I make for my seat and sit down. I stow the duffle bag under the table. The smell of the freshly made brew brings a warm smile to my face. I carefully grip the mug and softly blow over the black caffeine enriched java as my eyes cut to the right.
The ground is closer now. The detail of the snow and glaciers are more defined. I take a sip of the coffee as my eyes continue to soak in the splendor of the vast openness of the inhospitable lands. Although I am not so big on extremely cold environments, I must admit, this is quite breathtaking.
I polish off the potent brew as the plane finally lands. The tires squeal as rubber meets the tarmac. The plane jostles a bit. My hands instinctively grip the armrest.
The engines thrum as my ears pop and adjust from the change in altitude. I expel a sigh of relief, thankful that we have finally landed on solid ground.
The plane travels for a few more moments before coming to a complete stop. I gather up the documents on the table, and slip them back into the manila folder. I place the file into my satchel, and undo my safety belt.
“Ms. Price. There is a car waiting to take you to the research center. Is there anything else that I may be of assistance with today?” she inquires.
“Not that I can think of,” I respond.
She smiles and nods. “Very well. I hope you enjoyed your flight with us. Take care and have a good rest of your day.”
I smile back. “Thank you. Same to you.”
I retrieve the duffle and satchel from the floor and move to the front of the plane. The door has been retracted. The captain and first officer greet me with a smile and a simple nod. I respond in kind.
Cold air brushes against my face as I step out of the plane. An instant shiver comes over me. I grab the hood to the parka I’m wearing, and pull it up over my head before continuing down the steps.
The wind beats against me like a thousand fists. Snow blows across the pavement in a manic nature. Directly in front of me is a black Land Rover. A man, dressed in similar fashion to me, rushes up to meet me.
“Ms. Price. Welcome to Siberia.”
“Thanks. How far is it to the research center?” I respond.
“It’s about an hour drive. The terrain is a bit rough. We’ll be there before you know it, though.” He reaches out his glove-covered hands toward my duffle. “Let me stow that for you in the back.”
Dead State Box Set [0-5] Page 1