Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  Hunting us? The chasers have never done that before.

  He looks across the building to the far wall and points to a doorway with busted brick. “Come on. We need to move before they cut us off.”

  The defunct space is littered with numerous places for the chasers to emerge from. He keeps his sniper rifle trained, and back peddles toward the opening.

  As soon as he reaches it, he takes off in a mad dash.

  Duke and I chase after him. He moves at a good clip, his boots hammering the ground. The chasers’ yowls increase in volume, growing louder with each step we take. I glance to either side of us, and spot their bony, pale bodies materializing from every nook and hidden spot within the building.

  Each step sends a jolt of pain up my leg that punishes my body. My side hurts, and my head thumps. The will to survive pushes my legs on. I can’t afford to fall behind this guy. He could leave me behind.

  The chasers race out into the opening, and funnel in behind us. The man before me keeps his steady, brisk pace. Duke is hot on his heels with me being the anchor. Just listening to the grunts and growls of the undead creatures makes me panic.

  He darts inside the doorway. Duke follows suit. I slip through the opening behind them.

  “Down here!” he calls out from my right. He waves his arm from down the hall.

  I hustle down the drab passageway as the chasers cram their bodies through the doorway.

  Their squalls combine into one terrifying trumpet of rage. The multitude of dead charging the halls shakes the ground beneath my feet.

  More chasers appear in the direction we’re heading. The man comes to a screeching halt and opens fire. The sharp report of the rifle is boisterous in the close quarters. He chambers off three shots.

  The heads of the three chasers in front snap back, and they stumble to the unkempt floor. The dead behind them trip over the fallen, and block off the other dead.

  He spins around and trains the rifle in my direction. He doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. The white flash from the muzzle fills my gaze as the incoming round zips past my head. I duck and hear the thud of a body crashing to the floor behind me.

  He stands up and darts up the stairs to his left. Duke stays on his tail and races after him. The chasers behind me bulldoze their way over the dead bodies and charge on. I reach out, and grab the edge of the wall. I keep my feverish pace up the staircase.

  Situated on the landing, the man stands with a four-drawer, black filing cabinet in front of him. He waves me on as the tidal wave of dead collide into one another at the base of the steps.

  “Get the lead out, young blood! I don’t want you to be in this thing’s way!” he calls to me.

  I pant, struggling to catch my breath. My legs are being bitten by the soreness gnawing at the muscles. Duke barks from the top of the stairs.

  The chasers charge up after us. The combined bulk tests the steps’ resilience. The planks creak and pop, acting as though they could snap at any moment.

  I slip past the man, and take cover behind him. I double over, and place the heel of my palms on the top part of each knee. A knot forms in my chest and the stabbing pain in my side will not let up. It hurts to breathe, but I fight through the discomfort.

  “I knew this damn thing would come in handy at some point. It was just a bitch to move over here without creating too much noise!”

  He grabs the bulky filing cabinet and tilts it forward. He grunts and strains to tip it, but manages to do so. It crashes on the stairs and races toward the wave of chasers.

  I watch with delight, reveling in the fact that the creatures will be plowed over by the dense metal object.

  The man turns and slaps the side of my arm. “Come on. We need to keep moving. That’s only going to slow them down a short bit.” He maneuvers around the banister and runs down the long stretch of walkway.

  I stand up straight, and crane my neck to see the dead get plowed by the cabinet.

  A handful of the chasers dart out of the way. Their rail-thin frames suck against the wall and railing as it flies past them. The chasers behind them collide with the filing cabinet. Howls belch from their mouths as they’re thrown down the stairs.

  The chasers who dodged the filing cabinet train their gaze down to the crushed and battered bodies at the base of the stairs. I’ve never seen the creatures do that before.

  Duke barks, snapping me out of my entranced state.

  I slip around the banister as the chasers shrill, and sprint up the remaining flight of stairs.

  I don’t spot the man or Duke for that matter on the next flight of stairs. His barks are growing faint from the floor above me.

  Heavy footsteps tromp the wooden floor, and send me dashing up the steps. I take two at a time. My hand glides along the railing, then takes hold to pull me forward.

  I hit the landing, and search for them. They’re nowhere to be found. Where are they, and what is going on with that crazy dog of mine?

  Duke’s barks echo from down the hall in front of me. It’s faint, but still loud enough for me to follow the sound.

  The insatiable grunts and growls of the chasers rushing up the stairs gets me back on the move. I dash across the open space of the floor, and make for the hallway.

  It’s shrouded in darkness. Any light that has seeped in from the holes in the walls or rooms with missing doors succumbs to the dimness of the passageway.

  Duke’s barking has ceased. I train an attentive ear, and listen for any noises that may indicate where they have fled to. It’s silent except for the trail of chasers who are still after me.

  The grim scene of the hallway causes me to slow my pace. I’m walking in blind without knowing what’s lurking within the closed rooms I pass by.

  The hammering of the dead creep closer. Their wails ebb to simple grunts. I peer back over my shoulder in search of the chasers. I keep moving forward, cautiously twisting about as I look from side to side.

  “Duke. Where are you, boy?” I whisper.

  I spot three chasers near the landing. I’m set deep within the dimness of the hall, so I’m not sure if the dead can see me or not. I crane my neck, and watch the creatures stand close to each other. Only a portion of their frail bodies are seen from where I stand. I don’t want to run the risk of them seeing me.

  They look about the space as if they’re searching for us. Simple grunts escape their lips as their arms and fingers fidget and twitch. One of the creatures nods and points at the far hallway, then points up to the next floor.

  Is he giving some sort of a command?

  The chasers growl, and take off down the hallway. They split up and disappear from sight. The lone chaser turns its focus in my direction and heads this way.

  Oh crap.

  It won’t take him long to spot me once he enters the hall.

  I glance at the walls in search of a room I can hide in. The chasers are acting odd. They seem more coordinated now, and dare I say it, even communicating in a way.

  The door next to me is sealed. I reach for the knob as the chaser gives a hoarse growl. I flinch.

  A ghastly gray silhouette emerges from the now open door. Arms reach out and fingers grab a handful of my coat. I’m yanked inside with no time to react. The door is pushed to with no noise made.

  I take a few hearty steps back, and bring the carbine to bear. The space is dim, which makes it hard to see.

  The carbine presses further into my shoulder as I train it at the entrance, and the man who left me out to dry.

  “What the-”

  “Be quiet.” He steps away from the door and crouches down. He trains his rifle at the entrance and waits.

  Duke brushes against my leg. He groans, begging for his pal’s loving touch, even though he left me behind. I remain in position with the carbine fixed on the back of this guy’s head.

  I want answers, and I want them now.

  CHAPTER THREE

  We wait in the dark, anxious to see if the chaser presses its luck, or
if it moves on.

  It’s quiet. Not a single sound can be heard. Even Duke is mute. He’s crouched down next to me. He wants to bark as deep growls loom from his throat, a warning to the chaser not to enter. I shush Duke with a sharp tone, which curbs his growling.

  I lean to the side, and run my fingers over his head, trying to keep him calm. He lifts up to meet me.

  “It’s ok, bud, but we need to be quiet,” I whisper to him.

  I can hear the chaser’s panting from inside the room. The creatures aren’t running or acting like a savage beast with no control. It’s more focused and in control. Almost as if it’s capable of understanding what it’s doing.

  The knob jiggles, which draws a growl from Duke. The door doesn’t budge. The crouched man before me tilts back a hair, bringing the rifle up a few degrees. Perfect placement for a headshot if need be.

  The doorknob is tested again, a bit rougher this time. I pull my hand away from Duke’s head, and train the carbine in the same spot as him. I hold my breath, and release it slowly. I’m prepared to fire.

  Too many questions swirl inside my head, which makes it hard to focus. Not only on where my sister and friends are, but also what is going on with the chasers.

  The chaser moves on. I lower my weapon down to the man as he gets to his feet. He brings the rifle close to his chest and turns to face me. His head is tilted forward with the hood of his jacket still draped over him. He doesn’t move.

  “It’s safe, for now. You can lower your weapon,” he says.

  “I’ve got some questions that need to be answered, like why the hell did you leave me behind back there?” I hold my position, and keep the barrel trained on his head. I can’t see his face too well in the shadows.

  The man slings the rifle over his shoulder, which causes me to double down and hold the carbine steady. He doesn’t act as though I’m a threat. There is no shifting of his weight or hints that he’s looking to make a move on me.

  “Come on. Follow me.” He walks past me, testing my resolve. I grumble and lower the carbine. I had no plans on killing him, unless he made a move on me. I just need answers.

  Duke trails behind the man as he heads for a dark spot in the wall on the far side of the room. It’s hard to see at first. I squint and notice the busted drywall, then the gaping hole. He ducks down and vanishes.

  I secure the carbine over my shoulder and follow Duke through the gaping hole. We emerge into another space that is just as dimly lit.

  My eyes adjust to the point that I can make out some of the contents within the room. It’s barren of most furnishings except for what I think is a mattress or something similar in the back corner. A torn and ripped sofa is positioned in front of the door.

  He steps behind me and moves what appears to be the top of a round table in front of the hole in the wall. He pushes it in place, and tugs at the top to make sure it’s secure.

  “We should be safe in here until they lose interest and move on. We’ll need to keep our voices low. They have good hearing.”

  He nudges past me and heads for the corner of the room. He takes a knee next to a crate and rubs the crown of Duke’s head.

  “You didn’t answer me back there,” I grouse. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

  He reaches for a lantern that rests on top of the wooden box. “You were taking too long, and I don’t know if you noticed or not, but those things were chasing us.”

  The lantern comes to life and illuminates the dank, drab space. The walls are covered in what looks to be large water spots and any paint that has survived is peeling away. I glance over to the door, concerned about the light from his lantern giving away our position, but notice that the seam around the door and jamb is sealed with layers of duct tape.

  The man turns and rests on the unkempt mattress. He pulls the hood of his coat back, revealing his face. His fingers scratch at the thick, black beard that covers his mocha rich skin. Thick, puffy bags rest under each eye. His face is long and he looks about as haggard as I feel.

  I point to the secured door with a look of confusion on my face. “What is going on with them? I’ve never seen them act like that before.”

  He leans his head back to the wall. He digs his hand into the rucksack that is wedged between the bedding and the crumbling drywall.

  Duke lays on the floor while looking up to me. He offers a big yawn, followed by a shake of his mangy coat.

  “Like what?” he poses.

  I shrug, unsure of how to explain it. “I don’t know. Coordinated maybe. They seemed to be communicating or working together.”

  He rummages a bit more before pulling out a crumpled-up bag from his rucksack. He opens the top and buries his hand inside.

  “They’re evolving. Adapting. Have been for a while, at least around these parts. Cunning bastards learn fast. Not sure how that’s even a thing, but it is.”

  Evolving? That’s a scary thought in and of itself. If they weren’t dangerous enough before, now we have to contend with smart and logical thinking creatures that can plan and do God knows what else.

  My face disfigures in more confusion. On top of everything else that has happened, this is just one more layer to add to an already crappy situation.

  “So, they’re able to open doors and avoid dangers? A handful of the chasers knew to move out of the way when you dumped that filing cabinet over and sent it down the stairs.”

  He nods as he offers Duke a handful of what looks to be jerky.

  Duke gobbles up the meat from his gloved hand. I wonder if that’s the reason he was following him so close and leaving me behind? I always have a hard time competing with his stomach.

  The man offers the bag to me. I shake my head, refusing what he’s offering at the moment. Recent events have zapped my hunger.

  He shrugs and retrieves more from the sack. “They’ve learned to open doors, work as packs, bypass some of the traps I’ve laid out for them, and other types of things. Not all of them, mind you, but as time goes on, more and more are becoming more aware. Not sure if that’s the right term or not, but it seems fitting.” He pops a few more pieces of the dehydrated meat into his mouth, then points at me. “You’re lucky I was nearby when you were yelling from that chopper. FYI. Not a smart move. Might as well ring the dinner bell for them.”

  This guy is kind of an ass. Granted, yelling from the chopper wasn’t the smartest move, but I was panicked with a dead body draped over my waist and my friends and family missing.

  Cindy is an intricate component to possibly stopping all of this. With her being immune, she could turn the tide.

  “Yeah. Kind of crashed through the roof of a building, and was a bit dazed and confused there,” I sneer. “Given what happened, I was lucky to survive the crash with just a few nicks and bruises.”

  He smirks, and continues chomping away.

  “That you are. The other folks that exited the chopper were just as lucky. Although, seeing who took them, I wouldn’t call it that.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “So, you saw what happened to my family and friends?”

  He nods. “I saw what happened when they were taken. Two girls, a big burly guy, and some military officer. They placed a slug in one of the soldier’s legs and left him as bait for the chasers. Your dog here took off when they tried to shoot him. He ended up finding me in the building. It was touch and go at first, but he came around.” The man rubs Duke’s head and gives him some more food. “They hauled ass out of there when the creatures showed up. Now I see why they were in such an uproar and pointing to the chopper. Guess they were referring to you. To be honest, they’re lucky they didn’t put a bullet in each of them since they were only after the military man.”

  I slip the carbine from my shoulder and lean it against the wall. My hands rub up and down my face. I get too close to the wound on the side of my head and flinch.

  “Nice gash you got there,” the man says. “That needs to be dressed to keep it from getting infected. From the looks
of it, it could use some stitches.”

  A stinging pain festers in the wound. I grimace and wait for the irritation to subside.

  “Yeah, it probably does, but I don’t have any of that, so I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.” I glance over to him.

  “Who are these people that took Cindy and the others?”

  The man sits the bag of food down and grabs his rucksack. He scoots across the filthy mattress and places it on the floor between his legs.

  “A radical organization that formed out of this wonderful apocalypse we now get to trudge through. They go by Hive. Last I heard, they had different cells all over the country. California, Oregon, Texas, New York, and Florida as far as I know. A bunch of militant good old boys who are looking to wreak havoc within the lawlessness we have. Although, with the chasers sudden evolution and all, that has changed their plans some.”

  Once more, I’m confused as to why they would take Cindy and the others. Asking for a ransom wouldn’t be feasible given the dead state of things, and well, the fact that money is useless now. Besides, I have nothing to offer up if that is what their endgame is. Although, that group of vile men who nabbed Cassie back in Canyonville, as a bartering tool, were just as depraved. This better not be a repeat of that whole mess.

  “What does this Hive want, and do you know where they are located?”

  The man snickers as he removes a small first aid kit and a bottle of water from his gear.

  “You planning to do something reckless there, Rambo? Charge in with guns blazing and a fist full of bloodthirsty vengeance?”

  I don’t appreciate his condescending tone. Not sure what this guy’s problem is, but that tone is getting old fast.

  “I’ll do whatever is needed to get them back. Don’t worry, though, I’m not asking you to come with me or anything. You do seem to be a tad hesitant about them.” I don’t know if he is or not. I just want to offer him some of the same treatment he has me.

  He glances up to me. His face is void of any smirks or cocky expressions. Perhaps I hit a nerve. He sits there with the first aid kit clutched in his hands then he cracks a smile and chuckles.