Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  A morbid thought of him slipping and falling to the concrete below plays in my head. His legs breaking in such a way that he yells in pain. Hobbled to the point of not being able to flee the nearby chasers.

  I can’t tell you why I think such horrid things. It isn’t by choice. The fear that I have been fighting with has plotted its moment to strike. Right now, I’m ripe for the picking.

  Mack finishes off the last leg of the plank. He hops down onto the roof and turns toward us. He motions for us to come over.

  Cassie positions herself in front of the board. Mack grabs the opposite end and holds it firmly in place.

  She peers over the edge and shakes her head. “This is some crazy stuff. I can’t believe we are doing this.”

  Despite my rattled nerves, I swallow the unimaginable images that stew inside my head. There is no time for that. The slight bit of hesitation could cost me, or them, their lives.

  “When you make it across, I’m going to need for you to get Duke over.”

  Cassie glances back to Duke, who is pacing back and forth. He’s pretty perceptive, and knows when something is going on.

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  That’s a good question. I hadn’t gotten that far in my thought process. There is no way of her shouldering Duke like Mack did. So, we have to find a way to incentivize him to cross the great divide. Something that he really wants.

  “Do you happen to have any food in your pack? Jerky or anything that might be appealing to him?”

  She bites the right side of her lip gently. “Yeah. I think I have something in my pack. Either way, we’ll find a way to get him across.”

  I glance down, then back up to Cassie. “Be careful, ok?”

  She scoffs. “I don’t plan on falling.”

  She keeps her head straight and mimics Mack’s stance. I watch with nervous eyes as she quickly scurries across. The board jostles about. My hands frantically reach for the edge of the plank to stable its movement.

  Cassie hops down onto the other side. Mack isn’t amused by the reckless display. He hugs her tightly, then scolds her with his finger.

  It’s Duke’s turn.

  “Come here, boy.”

  Duke scampers over to me. He lowers to the ground and rolls over onto his side. I dig my fingers into his fur and rub his head.

  “Listen, boy. I know I’ve been asking a lot of you, but I need for you to get across that board to the other side, ok?”

  He stays on his side, oblivious to my pep talk.

  The chasers below are not growing tired. Their tumult is not wavering, and neither is Duke’s groans and growls. It’s time for tough love.

  My fingers wrap around his collar, and pull him up off the ground. Panic floods my system as I bring him to the board. He resists. His body lowers to the ground. He pulls his head back.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting from him, but that doesn’t matter. Like it or not, I need him across that plank.

  I catch sight of Cassie waving her arms. She points to the plank. A can of food rests on the end. I imagine he‘s still fairly famished. He hasn’t eaten much, except for the few cans of tuna back at their place. For a dog his size, that isn’t enough to stay his hunger. Not by a long shot.

  A battle of wills commences. I narrow my eyes at him. My brow furrows, lips purse. This is the wrong time and place to have a defiant moment. A part of me understands his apprehension. That same uneasiness festers deep inside my gut. But death looms large below, and I don’t want to test the chasers’ resolve.

  Cassie whistles and calls out his name. She waves her hands frantically, trying to nab Duke’s attention. She retrieves the can of food from the plank and tilts it toward us.

  I sternly command him to go with a shack of my finger. He finally spots her. His ears perk up. He discontinues being a stubborn butthead. His tongue edges the outer rim of his snout as he advances forward.

  Cassie implores him to come to her, smiling and making that kissy face that he ate up earlier. It’s the food, however, that hooks him. His hunger outweighs the danger that feeds into his fear.

  Finally.

  Cautious at first, Duke steps up onto the plank. His ears stay taut. He’s focused on Cassie.

  Living out in the rural area like we did, Duke traversed numerous obstacles when we’d venture out into the woods. Crossing streams and such, but nothing as jarring as this. I imagine adding in being chased by ravenous freaks who want to eat us doesn’t help any. When your nerves get rattled, it throws your concentration off.

  The roof access cover rattles. Did I imagine that, or did that really just move? I have no intention of waiting to see.

  “We need to hurry this up!” I call out.

  Cassie continues her engaging trance with Duke. He works his way across the remainder of the plank. She grips the sides of his head and rubs them. She drops the canned food to the ground, allowing him to dig into his reward.

  “Come on, James. You need to get across now!” Mack points over to the dull gray metal cover. It lifts up slightly as voracious fingers, bloody and worn to the bone, emerge from under the cover.

  “How are they climbing ladders?” I holler out loud. “When did that happen?”

  Cassie tosses her arms in the air and shrugs. “Does it matter right now? Move!”

  Two deep breaths and I’m standing on the plank.

  Instantly, flashbacks of the rope bridge where Dawson, my best friend, died form in my thoughts. I freeze for a moment, unable to move. Fear sinks in its teeth and won’t let me go. Heights are not my favorite thing by far anyway, which adds to my paralyzed state.

  Don’t look down, James, and you’ll be fine.

  My legs don’t respond, not at first. The creature’s yowls don’t help any either. I have to tune out the chasers, but struggle to do so. I tell myself not to look back, but curiosity gets the better of me.

  My gaze sneaks over my left shoulder. Bloodshot eyes meet mine. Teeth chomp up and down wildly as the cover explodes upward. Like a symbiotic creature from an alien planet, the horde of chasers fight their way out onto the rooftop.

  Their emaciated bodies plop onto the asphalt roof. They wail with unsatisfied hunger as they rush toward me. The crackle of gunfire plays in my ears, followed by the zip of air being disturbed near me.

  The bullet impacts one of the chasers in the middle of his skull and exits out through the back. A fine red mist taints the faces of the impeding horde of flesh-crazed fiends. His body goes limp and crumbles to the ground, tripping up a few of the others in the process.

  I exhale all of the air in my lungs and scoot across the plank. My panicked eyes focus on Cassie. Mack continues to chamber off round after round from his Berretta.

  The chasers are so close, it feels as though their fingers are mere centimeters away from my jacket. I start to lose my balance. My weight favors to the left. My arms swing wildly to regain my equilibrium.

  The plank shifts. Heavy footsteps pound the board. I’m almost there, but not quite yet.

  I’m not ready to die. It’s too soon, and I still have too much that needs to be done.

  Death wants my soul, but it won’t happen this day. I do the only thing that seems logical, and most practical.

  I jump.

  The plank slips free from both buildings and tumbles to the ground below. My body glides through the air as Mack extends his hand out for me. I collide into the brick façade, just below the roof’s edge. Gravity engages and sends me free falling to the cement below. My fingers frantically grab at anything they can wrap around to stop my descent into the graveyard I had dreamt of.

  They catch on thick black rubber cabling that spans along the building’s exterior. I hang there, dangling like a worm on a hook.

  The wood clanks on the cement. The chasers give pursuit, jumping from the building and reaching out for me. They miss by a wide margin, and fall to the ground below. Their gaunt frames slam into the unforgiving earth.

  Both Cas
sie and Mack lean over the roof’s edge, screaming my name as if my death is certain.

  I glance up at their tormented faces. “How about a hand?”

  Mack leans over the roof’s edge. He extends his arm down as far as he can. His fingers are just shy of mine by roughly a half a foot or so.

  “You’re going to have to come up some more, James. I can’t go any farther.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?” The gear attached to my back feels like weights are anchored to my feet.

  “You’re going to have to remove one of your hands from the cabling, and see if you can reach up to me. It’s the only way,” Mack yells back.

  More of the chasers have been drawn to the commotion. Their bodies flood out of the building’s interior as more on the rooftop test their limits and jump from the building’s edge in an attempt to try and get to me.

  I was horrible at doing pull ups in gym. My meager arms are already pressed to the brink of giving up. My fingers are turning white from the strain my bulk has placed on them. But this is fight or die. I have to try, for Mom and Cindy.

  My right hand releases the cable, shifting my weight to the left. I twist and turn in the air. I don’t have long before I lose my grip. I can feel each digit slip free. I have to make a move.

  Mack extends his arm down to the max. His fingers dance in the air as I reach up. We’re so close. I can feel his skin graze mine.

  “Reach farther, James!” he pleads.

  I summon what strength remains in my left arm, and pull myself up. It doesn’t feel like much, or that I have even moved at all. My right hand goes for Mack’s, and this time, finds more of his palm.

  Like a snare, his hand snaps shut over mine. He tightens his grip, and lifts me up to the safety of the roof. Dragging my spent body over the edge, I drop to the graveled rooftop.

  Duke rushes over to me. His tongue laps over my face. My chest hurts. My head is swimming in an ocean of near-death abyss.

  I put my hands up, and push Duke away. I roll over to my side, then up to my knees.

  Mack and Cassie stand over me. Relief pours from my flush, sweaty face. I brush my arm across my brow, and exhale the tension that has clutched my body.

  Cassie nudges my arm with her fist. “Nice move, wild man. I thought for sure you were going to go splat.”

  “For a moment, I thought I was too,” I say.

  Mack helps me to my feet. I turn, and glance over the side of the roof to the gathering mass of infected. They’re completely beside themselves, wailing at the tops of their lungs with bloodstained hands reaching for us.

  “Doesn’t seem like they’re going to give up anytime soon,” I observe.

  Cassie presents her middle finger to the horde once more. She waves it from left to right, then down below.

  “Awfully tenacious, aren’t they?” she says. “They remind me of one of the local guys who used to live around here. A real creep. Gave me the chilis. Anytime I saw him in town, he’d give me a weird, uncomfortable smile—like a rapist or child molester would.” Cassie shivers at the thought.

  I glance to Mack in search of any solid direction on what we should do next.

  “Got any ideas? We can’t afford to keep cutting it this close. I know this was a probability, but we need to buy some time, or we won’t make it far.”

  Cassie turns to face us and points to Mack’s pack. “Can we use one of those frag grenades?”

  I draw a cautious glance at her. My right brow lifts slightly in the air from the bold suggestion. “Seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it?”

  Cassie huffs at my counter. She then points back to the chasers with a stern finger.

  “I’d consider all of that an extreme measure, wouldn’t you? If you have a better idea, then let’s have it.”

  Mack grinds his teeth as his right hand strokes his mustache. He walks over to the edge of the structure and peers down.

  “It would take care of the ones on the ground. We don’t really need to worry about the others on the rooftop right now.”

  Both of my hands come up in front of me, motioning for them to slow down.

  “Before we go blowing stuff up, do we know how we’re getting off this rooftop?”

  Cassie points to the back of the building. “There’s a fire escape that we can go down. It’s got one of those spring-loaded ramp things that allow it to come back up on its own. Should be easy for Duke to get down.”

  I look to Mack for any final words.

  “It’s the best option we have.”

  My right palm rubs up and down my face. “All right, let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We gather at the back of the building near the rusted brownish red ladder. I glance over and down the metal stairs that zigzags to the cracked pavement below. My hand grabs the steel frame, and gives it a solid shake.

  “It’s going to be fine, James,” Cassie offers. She glances down and shrugs. “Besides, it’s not that far down. Maybe a few stories. Three at best.”

  My eyes cut to her. “Yeah, well, you weren’t just dangling from the side of a building with a mass of hungry, infected people waiting for you to fall.”

  I glance back over my shoulder, and find Mack with his pack on the ground. He’s down on one knee sifting through its contents. What’s he searching for?

  Cassie cranes her neck in his direction and points toward the rucksack. “They’re toward the bottom.”

  Mack pulls out a brownish green spherical explosive. He secures his pack and slips it back over his shoulders.

  “It’ll have a four to five second delay before it detonates. When I say go, I want you three to haul ass down this fire escape to the ground. You got me?” We nod in agreement. “Good. Get ready.”

  Cassie takes the lead in front of the ladder. She clutches the Berretta in her hand as Duke and I ready to follow her down. My hand rests on the edge of the brick building as I lean forward. Duke remains standing. He lunges forward slightly, indicating that he’s ready to go.

  Mack walks back over to the edge of the building, where the chasers are clamoring in a frenzy. He peers over the ledge with the grenade at the ready. He grabs the pin with his free hand, and glances back to us.

  He signals, with a tilt of his head, that it’s go time.

  I take a knee, and rub Duke’s head. I wrap my arms around his fury body, and hold him tight. The explosion is probably going to frighten him. I want to make sure he’s ok.

  Mack yanks the pin free and tosses the grenade to the chasers below. He pivots on his heels and makes a mad dash back toward us.

  I count backward in my head.

  5...

  4...

  3...

  2...

  A sharp crackle of thunder reverberates out from the narrow opening of the alleyway. A slight tremor rattles the building under us. Duke cowers at my feet as dust and debris blows into the air.

  Mack waves his hands for us to get moving.

  Cassie jumps over the ladder, and onto the steel landing of the fire escape. She quickly begins her descent down to the ground as Duke and I follow.

  Section by section, we race down the stairs. Mack is right behind me, our feet pounding the steel rungs.

  My gaze cuts to the right in search of any chasers who may have survived the blast. The explosion is probably going to lure the infected in droves.

  So far, none have come into view.

  Cassie jumps to the ground, and steps away as the platform springs back up to Duke and me. She stands at the ready with her Berretta clutched in her hands. She sweeps the building from left to right.

  Duke stands on the platform, followed by me. It starts to move down. Cassie opens fire.

  Two chasers emerge from the alley to our right. The macabre bodies snag my attention as we slalom down the incline. Peppered with blood and skin, the infected stagger our way.

  Chunks of flesh have been cleaved from various spots on their frames. Arms dangle by tendons. They each struggle to ke
ep upright from the shrapnel that has shredded their legs.

  Mack places a restrictive hand on the Berretta. He pushes it toward the ground and grabs her arm. “Save it. We need to conserve what we have. They won’t be able to keep up with us.”

  Cassie huffs at the suggestion but follows along.

  We turn to leave as more chasers emerge from the alleyway. They reach out for us with mouths gaping open. Their painful wails taint the air. The stifling stench of burnt flesh and gunpowder fills my nose.

  Stay the course, and don’t look back. No matter what gets in our way, we take it out and keep moving. That seems to be our current mindset.

  We stay to the fields and gravel roads that run along the backsides of the structures we pass by. At each alleyway and open section between the buildings, I spot chasers on the highway.

  The rucksack on my back jostles from side to side. My lungs are on fire as I struggle to refill the deflated organs.

  Cassie and Mack’s breathing are just as labored as mine, but no one dares to suggest that we stop and rest. It’s not an option.

  Through each winded breath, I give voice to my inner child that wants to be there already. “How much farther do we have?”

  Cassie points ahead of her. “Almost there.”

  Our feet hammer the road with unrelenting aggression. The sign comes into view just beyond the corner of the building we pass by. A welcome sight.

  There are no chasers in the area. A handful of cars are scattered about the parking lot of the store’s perimeter. Their windows are busted out. Car doors are open, gouts of blood staining the concrete a deep, dark red.

  We race for the rear of the building where the small loading dock resides. Our backs press to the dull gray cement blocks as our bodies deflate against the structure.

  Wheezing, we scan the open field before us. Still, no movement can be seen, but the chasers’ yowls are still heard in the near distance.

  Mack takes position in front of Cassie. He approaches the short staircase that leads up to the entrance of the store. Training his Berretta toward the ground, he motions for us to follow his lead.