The Early Days Trilogy: The Necrose Series Books 1-3

by Tim Moon

  The stock room held floor to ceiling shelves loaded with pallets of product. He wasn’t about to go climbing the shelves to check every conceivable hiding place, but he did shine his flashlight. The room smelled like plastic, dusty cardboard and garbage. Near the loading dock was a trash compactor—explaining the stench—a cardboard baler and a small forklift.

  Ben found two unmarked doors along the far wall across from the loading dock. He carefully opened the first one. It turned out to be a small utility closet. The next one had cleaning supplies.

  When Ben returned to Charlotte and the man, it looked like they hadn’t moved at all. She stood a safe distance from him with the rifle aimed at his chest.

  Her eyes met Ben’s with an obvious question.

  “All clear,” he said. Her posture immediately relaxed.

  Ben looked around slowly, feeling like he missed something.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “I’m Mark Anderson,” he said with apparent effort.

  “Hi, Mark. I’m Ben. What are you doing here? Are you with a group?”

  Mark shook his head. “I’m just trying to survive. Like I said before I’m alone.”

  Ben nodded in understanding. “Are you going home to your family?”

  “No family.” Mark’s eyes crinkled as if in pain, and a frown tugged at his lips. “Everyone I know is… dead.”

  That wasn’t a big surprise. Ben figured it would be nearly impossible to find anyone these days that hadn’t lost most of the people they’d known.

  “Why don’t you have a gun?” Charlotte asked. “A knife will only do so much, and this place is loaded with weapons.”

  “I’m not much of a fighter,” Mark mumbled sheepishly.

  “What are you then?” Ben asked although he already had an idea based on the man’s clothing.

  “I’m a doctor. I used to work at Vancouver Medical Center.”

  Ben’s eyebrows shot up. “We were just there the other day.”

  “You know how bad it is then,” he said. “That’s where I was when, you know, things got out of control. We tried to figure out how to help the patients, but nothing worked. I lost all my friends. It was…”—his shoulders trembled— “awful.”

  “We’ve all lost people,” Charlotte said softly.

  She gave Ben a look and glanced at Mark. Ben read it as her wanting the guy to join their group. Ben wasn’t convinced. It could be a trap. They had encountered other survivors who caused trouble, anything was possible.

  Who travels half way across town without a weapon?

  Mark’s knife wasn’t from the hospital. It looked practically brand new. SportsMart was packed with knives and guns. He could have taken it off the shelf, but that wasn’t the only the thing that bothered Ben. The stockroom seemed a little too clean, too neat. Was it because Steve was a doctor?

  “How did you survive if you’re not a fighter?” Ben asked.

  “If they don’t see or hear you, they don’t attack.”

  “You hid the whole time your friends were being attacked?”

  “Ben!” Charlotte snapped.

  “What?”

  “Don’t be rude.”

  Ben scowled. “This isn’t the time to worry about his feelings. Did you or did you not hide while your friends died?”

  “I’m sorry, he’s not usually like this,” Charlotte said.

  “Don’t apologize to him.”

  “Stop! Just stop,” Mark said, standing up.

  Ben raised his pistol at Mark, who held up his hands.

  “It’s true. I hid at the hospital. I locked myself into a room and stayed there until things… Until they stopped screaming…” A tear streaked down Mark’s cheek. He didn’t speak for a few seconds. “There were so many. It was total chaos. People screaming, dying, security staff fought with patients who were trying to bite them, gun shots were going off.”

  Ben slowly lowered his gun as he listened.

  “I couldn’t have helped anyone,” Mark said. “Trained security guards and cops couldn’t deal with it and I’ve never even been in a fight. What was I going to do?”

  Charlotte looked like she wanted to give the man a hug. Ben scoffed and walked away.

  “Doing something is better than doing nothing,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I’m not proud of it,” Mark said to Ben before he disappeared through the swinging doors back into the store.

  Ben tuned out the excuses. These days, there was no room for cowards. They put everyone at risk. He relaxed a little since Mark wasn’t a fighter. The store was most likely clear of danger. Still, it would have nagged at him not to finish the sweep, so he went back to clearing the sales floor.

  As he walked through the clothing section, Ben thought about asking Mark to join them. A doctor would be helpful, no doubt about it. Could they suffer having someone that couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight?

  Ben arrived at the front of the store without reaching a decision.

  Pulling a shopping cart free, Ben made his way to the closest aisle. The first thing he reached for was a large Maglite.

  “Ben?” Charlotte called softly.

  Ben leaned out of the aisle to wave her down. She sighted in on him and dashed over.

  “Shouldn’t we see if the doctor wants to come with us? He could still be useful, and it doesn’t look like he’s doing much around here,” Charlotte said.

  “I’m not sure. He seems like a coward. Can we risk having someone like that around?” Ben asked.

  “He’s a doctor. He doesn’t need to fight.”

  “Everyone needs to be able to fight otherwise they’re a liability,” Ben said. “That’s the way it is now. Fight or die.”

  Charlotte put her hands on her hips. After a moment to process what he said, she nodded.

  “I understand where you’re coming from,” she said. “But I think we should err on the side of faith in humanity. I quizzed Mark about hospital procedure and asked a few medical questions. I think he’s legit. He can help us. His skills are more valuable now than ever before. You and Anuhea can teach him how to fight. You did that with Chadwick, right? So, why can’t he?”

  Shit, she’s got me there, he thought.

  “Fair points,” Ben acknowledged. “But he doesn’t get a second chance. If he fucks us over even once, even something small, I’ll put him down myself.”

  “So, I can ask him?”

  “Ask him,” Ben said with a sigh, continuing his shopping spree.

  85

  The shopping spree must have lasted an hour at which point they pushed three shopping carts nearly overflowing with gear and ammunition to the front door. Ben stayed inside to keep an eye on Mark while Charlotte slipped outside to check the parking lot for infected.

  Ben swept glass out of the way with his foot again while they waited for word from Charlotte that it was clear.

  “It’s been a while. Do you think she’s okay?” Mark asked.

  “She’s fine,” Ben said in a curt tone. He didn’t want to talk. Suspicion played a role, but it wasn’t the only reason.

  The cash registers were close by, so he walked over and pulled all the jerky off the shelf, stuffed them in a plastic bag and walked back to pile it in his cart. He went back for the display boxes filled with ChapStick, lighters, chem lights, and a big box of Snickers. After bagging the boxes and carefully placing it in the cart, he tore open a Snickers for himself.

  A simple question was printed on the wrapper. Hungry? Why, yes. Yes, I am.

  Charlotte climbed back through the hole, clouds of condensation billowing from her mouth, and waved them on.

  “It’s clear,” she said. “Hand me some stuff and then start bringing it outside.”

  Mark carried a stack of backpacks to her. She took them and climbed back out to the truck. Ben set his candy bar down and grabbed a stack of shopping bags. He filled them with the boxes of ammunition they had scavenged. Mark took a few and began bagging the other small st
uff — socks, hats, shirts, gloves, and knives.

  “Why’d you wait to bag stuff?” Charlotte asked.

  Ben looked at her and shrugged.

  Mark chuckled and shook his head.

  When everything was bagged, they formed a line with Mark in the middle since he could straddle the hole in the security fence while standing up. Mark passed bags to Charlotte who gave them to Ben to pack in the truck.

  “Good thing you’re a tiny man,” Ben said. “Not much room left for you.”

  “Oh God,” Mark said, his voice quaking with fear.

  Ben frowned, thinking it was an odd reaction to the jab. Then he followed Mark’s gaze to a group of infected sprinting across the street towards them.

  “Keep packing, doc,” Ben said, pushing a bag into the doctor’s hands so he could draw his pistol.

  “They’re coming,” Mark said, breathless.

  “Move your ass, doc,” Ben snapped.

  Muttering curses, Charlotte fumbled with her rifle.

  “Take a breath and focus,” Ben said to her. He aimed and fired two rounds.

  The shots didn’t kill the woman wearing a dirty red dress; she stumbled and hit the ground hard. The six other runners spread out, like startled ducks. Ben sucked in a breath. Sonofabitch. They’ve never done that before.

  The woman in red scrambled back to her feet even as Ben dropped a man with half of his face chewed off. Charlotte had her rifle sorted out and killed another one.

  Sounds of feet slapping against the pavement grew louder. Ben’s heart thumped double time, keeping pace with the frantic pace of the infected. The zombies drew near; their screeching voices making his veins run cold. He realized the infected were going to reach them before they could shoot them all. He squeezed the trigger until the slide locked back with only one more kill to show for it.

  “Doc, grab a weapon,” Ben shouted. He dropped the pistol and pulled out his bat.

  Charlotte continued shooting. She managed to pick off a man with half his entrails flopping out of his torn gut.

  Ben strode forward, barely controlling his bladder as he tightened his grip on the handle. The first runner launched itself at him and he swung for the fences. He pivoted like a baseball player and crushed both arms that had been reaching out for him. Momentum sent the body slamming into his shoulder. Ben staggered backwards back a few steps. His shin hit the trailer hitch on the truck and felt like it shattered into a thousand pieces. The pain that took his breath away before he had crumpled to the ground.

  A woman with her lips and nose chewed off and a torn scalp that left her hair flapping into crook of her neck charged at Charlotte. With a shout of surprise, Charlotte jammed her rifle forward into the woman’s mouth and pulled the trigger. The woman’s brains splattered the bearded runner behind her.

  The woman’s body slumped forward, pushing Charlotte to the ground. The infected man leapt over the body, painted in fresh dark blood with chunks of brain matter clinging to his beard, and latched onto her. Charlotte barely kept his teeth from snapping off her nose.

  Ben gritted his teeth as he got to his feet and moved to help Charlotte. His leg buckled, and he collapsed beside the crippled zombie, writhing on the ground. Ben scrambled away in a panic, terrified of getting bit and worried that his leg might actually be broken.

  The infected man he had hit with the bat flopped forward and bit down on Ben’s shoe. The fear of getting infected made him shout in horror even though it was nearly impossible for it to bite through the shoe. Fear and adrenalin saturated his brain, obscuring rational thought. Mark appeared standing over them with a shovel from the back of the truck. He bashed the infected man’s head. On the second hit, Ben freed his foot and jerked his leg out of reach. He crawled to Charlotte to help.

  She was wrestling with the infected. Her breaths came in gasps and it was clear she was close to done. Ben knelt beside her, wrapped his arms around the infected man, gripping his own forearms to keep the guy pinned and wrenched him off Charlotte. They fell to the side with the bearded zombie struggling to free his arms. The man’s head turned from side to side, trying to bite him.

  “Kill him,” Ben said struggling to keep his grip. His palms were sweaty making them lose grip on his jacket sleeve. He lay on his back, with the zombie on top, hoping that this wasn’t how he would die.

  Charlotte held a tanto knife in her hands. Rolling to his side, Ben craned his head back out of the way. She brought the tip of the blade down, right into the bearded zombie’s ear. It sank in with a crunch of bone. Leaning forward with a hard grunt, Charlotte shoved down hard, forcing it deeper to pierce the zombie’s brain. The squelching sound and grinding of blade on bone made Ben’s stomach tighten in disgust, but he was grateful when the body went limp and he could finally release his grasp.

  Charlotte freed the blade from Beard’s head and dropped it. She reached out for Ben’s hand. He took it and carefully stood.

  “Holy shit, I hate those things,” he said.

  “W-w-when did they start running?” Mark asked.

  “No idea,” Ben said, panting. “They’re fairly new to us too.”

  “Not all of them run though, right?”

  “Right,” Charlotte said, gesturing to the bed of the truck. “But that’s why we came out to get all this stuff.”

  “Makes sense.” Mark propped his elbow against the truck and held his head. “I can’t believe I survived this long. There’s no way I could have fought even one of those by myself. Especially after I left the hospital. Shit, I didn’t have so much as a scalpel.”

  “You’re not alone anymore,” Charlotte said in a comforting tone.

  Mark gave her a polite smile that quickly faded into a frown as his eyes darted at something behind her.

  “We need to go,” Mark said in a low voice.

  Charlotte reached down for her knife and wiped it quickly on the zombie’s clothes. Ben hobbled back to the truck with a weary look at the trailer hitch. Slow zombies had been drawn to the sound of gunshots. Ben estimated they had about five minutes before they closed in.

  “Thanks, Doctor Obvious,” Ben said. His teeth ground together in a vain attempt to alleviate the horrendous throbbing in his leg.

  “You could be more grateful,” Mark said, glowering at him. “I did help you.”

  “You’re right,” Ben said with a tired nod. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Ben sighed, enjoying the reprieve. “Is everyone okay? No bites, right?”

  He looked Charlotte over with concern. She had been wrestling with the guy for a while before he got there to help.

  She looked herself over and patted down her arms and torso.

  “Safe,” she said, heaving a sigh of her own.

  “Doc?” Ben cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “I’m safe and healthy.” The doctor set the shovel back in the truck where he’d found it.

  “Let’s get this shit packed and get out of here,” Ben said wearily.

  “Where are we going? Back to your group?” Mark asked.

  Lifting the corner of the plywood, Ben set a bag full of ammunition into the corner of the bed and eased the plywood back down.

  “What’s it to you Doc?” Ben asked, giving him a sharp, suspicious look.

  Mark had helped Ben with the zombie, but they didn’t know him from any other random person on the street. He could easily be affiliated with the same group as the men at the pharmacy. Ben’s mind flashed back to the roadblock in Hawaii. Was Mark even a doctor? Charlotte seemed to think so, but it wouldn’t be the first time they had seen somebody impersonate a person of authority. Ben wasn’t about to just take him at his word. Not yet anyway.

  Mark looked a little taken aback and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just curious. That’s all.”

  Charlotte rearranged the back seat to give Mark room to sit.

  “We’re going somewhere safe,” Charlotte said, patting his sho
ulder. “Don’t worry.”

  “Doc, you’re in the passenger seat. Charlotte, you get to drive,” Ben said.

  She looked surprised but nodded. Mark caught the look Charlotte gave him and began to chew his lip nervously. Ben knew that having a stranger sit behind you was a good way to get killed.

  Ben gestured towards the truck. “Let’s go.”

  The slow zombies managed to reach the far edge of the parking lot when they drove away from SportsMart. A light rain started a few minutes later. Ben wished they had a tarp for the back of the truck.

  “Thank you again, for letting me come with you,” Mark said.

  Charlotte looked at Ben in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah,” Ben said, reluctantly.

  Turning in his seat, Mark met Ben’s eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

  Ben nodded.

  86

  Charlotte followed Ben’s directions, while navigating around debris and abandoned cars with ease. Ben led them to a back road after leaving SportsMart to avoid taking the same route home. Suspicion lingered in the back of his mind from his last trip outside the neighborhood.

  From there, they circled back around and emerged at the intersection of Mill Plain Blvd and Chkalov. The road was crowded so Charlotte slowed to a crawl. She looked at Ben in the rear-view mirror.

  “Which way?” she asked.

  “Wait a second,” he said, looking around. “I thought I heard something.”

  Mark sucked in a breath and searched the intersection frantically.

  “It’s okay,” Charlotte said, patting Mark’s arm.

  “I don’t hear anything else. Turn right here. We’ll be driving down this road for a while,” Ben said.

  The truck started to roll forward when they all heard a screeching growl. An infected woman leapt onto an abandoned car just twenty feet away and then hurled herself at the truck. Everything moved in slow motion. Mark yelped in surprise, Ben pulled out his pistol while Charlotte jerked the steering wheel and they swerved away from the flying zombie.