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

by Tim Moon

  Ben waved at Oliver and went back to the truck. Right away, he began to plan the route in his head. The SUV engines went silent as they prepared to wait for him. Ben glanced back and gave Anuhea a quick nod as he climbed into the truck. Taking a deep breath, he buckled in and surveyed the scene again.

  The horde was centered at the far end of the shopping center in front of SportsMart with a long tail of infected stretching out across the intersection in front of him. The few infected in the intersection would be easy enough to get past. Making sure they all followed was the real trick. Ben had to make sure none peeled off and went towards his family.

  The zombies in the road swayed back and forth like pendulums, milling about aimlessly. Their movement patterns were spasmodic yet somehow mesmerizing. Ben could already smell their filth coming through the truck’s heater.

  His intended route took shape in his mind. East on Mill Plain to Olympia Drive. Turn south on Olympia Drive, leading the horde onto one of the back roads, and then he’d speed away and circle back around to SportsMart.

  The first hurdle was the group of infected in the intersection ahead of him. Ben decided to stay in the nearest lane, driving on the wrong side of the road to avoid most of them. It should also give him room to maneuver in case any infected had spilled out from the main crowd in the parking lot onto Mill Plain. He dreaded the possibility of having to plow through a crowd. Even though they were undead, it was a risky maneuver they had already experienced in Hawaii, and not one Ben wanted to repeat.

  Taking a deep breath, Ben wiped his clammy palms on his pants before taking a firm grip on the wheel. He let off the brake and eased forward towards the intersection. He started off slowly to avoid being seen until he was out in the street. No sense drawing attention towards the SUVs.

  Once Ben turned onto Mill Plain, several of the infected noticed him and gave chase. That’s when he sped up. The tires squealed, and the back-end fish tailed a little as he flew around the corner. His foot mashed the gas pedal and the engine growled in response. The horde responded to the noise and movement. Ben grinned as they began to follow.

  Glancing to his right, Ben saw heads turn in his direction like a wave as a football game. Infected standing in the road ambled his way but he blew right past them. He swerved in time to avoid smashing two bodies with the front end, and instead caught them with the back corner of the bed. The chorus of the dead grew as the bulk of infected noticed him.

  The herd was slow to get moving, so, Ben honked the horn. Two loud blasts – just enough to alert the dead. If most of the dead followed him, their plan would work.

  Ben grew nervous though. With so many infected, some of them had to be runners. He drew his pistol from its holster and drove with one hand on the wheel. Holding the cold steel weapon reassured him.

  Slowing down, he switched lanes as he drove past the main body of the infected and honked again. The road ahead was clear. Behind him, he watched hundreds of infected shuffling towards him. Even though he was safe, his nerves were taut as a bowstring. His head swiveled left to right, as his football coach taught him in high school. There was no way, he’d let himself be surprised by a stray group or runner coming up on him.

  After a minute of coasting down the street unopposed, Ben finally rolled to a stop. The infected moved like a damned glacier. Given their pace, he hoped the timeline he’d confirmed with Anuhea would be long enough. The clock in the truck already said it was a quarter past seven and many of the dead still hadn’t made it out of the parking lot.

  All Ben could do was wait.

  He watched in his mirror as the infected stumbled and lurched towards him. Each one was eager to feast on him. Dark eyes starred at him with dull expressions, devoid of humanity. When they had closed to within fifty feet of the truck he rolled forward and gave his horn a quick tap.

  A roar erupted nearby. Ben looked to his right and saw a hulking creature, not quite man, but not quite infected either. It had a loping gait, like a cow with a lame back leg, and it was racing towards the mass of infected.

  Ben nearly drove into the low concrete median as he gaped at the beast. The creature charged the undead with another growl. He skidded to a halt and watched the tall, broad, monster with its misshapen head and blistered skin. One arm was about three sizes too big and dragged on the ground, contributing to its odd gait. Ben thought it looked like a cross between a deformed rancor and the troll in Lord of the Rings.

  The oddest thing, Ben realized, was that despite roaring like an enraged grizzly bear, the infected basically ignored it. If anything, they seemed to shy away from the beast. There were a hundred feet between the leading edge of the zombie horde and another forty feet or so to the creature.

  Watching the beast caused a kink to form in his neck. Ben drove up to the next intersection and turned the truck sideways, so he could watch. Screaming howls rose over the din of the horde.

  Runners, Ben thought.

  Sure enough, four runners could be seen forcing their way through the bulk of the infected herd. Ben’s pulse shot into overdrive. It looked like they were coming for him. Before he could slam his foot down on the accelerator though, the monster roared again. Ben’s eyes flicked over to the creature and he watched in awe as it lifted a zombie in its one oversized hand, ripped its head off, and poured the inky blood into its mouth. It squeezed the fluid out like a juice box, a good portion splashing on the grayed skin of its chest.

  Revulsion burned the back of his throat. “What the fuck?”

  The he looked around, remembering the other threat. Where are the runners?

  They were closer than before but had swerved and were sprinting full bore towards the beast. Another round of angry shrieks came from the runners. Ben’s grip tightened on his pistol. He raised the weapon and tracked the infected as they ran closer to the truck.

  A thrilling rush of fear and excitement ran through Ben as he witnessed the strangest thing to happen in his life.

  The beast hurled the zombie it had been drinking at the sprinters, knocking down one, and the battle was joined. The remaining three runners scattered around their fallen companion and closed in. The disfigured behemoth swung its meaty fist and smashed a female sprinter like a baseball. Her emaciated body flew ten feet like a rag doll, her dress flapping in the cold air, before it skidded across the pavement. Her body knocked down several of the slow infected and disappeared under the relentless churning of their feet.

  The remaining pair of infected leapt at the beast and began slashing and biting it. A bellow of rage erupted from its throat as it fought back. Ben felt like he was caught in the middle of a dinosaur battle in Jurassic World.

  “Fuck this,” Ben said as he slammed his foot on the gas. He wanted to get away from the madness even as the seed of an idea formed in the back of his mind.

  The truck lurched at the sudden infusion of gasoline and then shot forward, quickly gaining speed. He honked his horn a few times to keep the main group of infected on his trail. When Ben slowed down another block away, he looked back to check their progress. His face contorted at the weird sight. The horde trudged after him, ignoring the battle between the sprinters and the beast. They really were single-minded drones, focused only on pursuing the truck.

  Watching the battle between the infected, Ben latched onto the idea floating in the back of his mind. Holstering his pistol, he backed up the truck. The fight had progressed. One sprinter, wearing a red shirt, ran around the big one, seeming to taunt it. The beast lumbered after it, while also trying to shake the other infected off its back.

  Ben stopped the truck, moved the shifter into neutral and put the e-brake on, but left the engine running. Picking up his rifle from the passenger seat, he slid out of the tall truck. After he had climbed into the bed, Ben steadied himself against the cab in a half-seated position and took aim at the runners. From what he’d seen, the big guy wanted to feed on the dead and that was a-okay with him.

  Through the scope Ben winced at the twiste
d and deformed face of the beast as it snarled and snapped at the fast zombies. Fresh wounds on its back dripped inky blood freely down its humped back. It didn’t seem overly phased by the scratches.

  Ben took a deep breath, aimed at the infected that was running around the beast and squeezed the trigger. Miss.

  He aimed again and squeezed. The round hit the runner’s shoulder with a satisfying punch that knocked it off balance. Its hand fell to its side, useless. The beast took advantage of the stumble, and roaring its dominance, it wrapped its big arm around the runner’s leg. Beast swung it like a fly swatter, hitting the red shirt runner clinging to its back.

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he muttered to himself. And red shirts always die.

  The horde pursued Ben with its usual mindless fervor, but he still had a few minutes before he had to flee. Smiling to himself, Ben watched Beast grab red shirt and rip its head off. It tipped up the body and opened its mouth to catch the sickening fluid that leaked out.

  A nearby snarl brought his attention back to the scene in front of him.

  “Shit,” he hissed, looking around the truck. Stupid mistake.

  Infected were closing in from his side of the street. The first ones reached the tailgate as he jumped over the side board onto the hard pavement below. Both feet stung from the impact and he had to push away an elderly zombie in an ugly orange sweater.

  Several pairs of hands slapped the door as Ben pulled it shut behind him. Faces pressed against the glass, eager to sink their teeth into his flesh. After releasing the e-brake and pulling the shifter into drive, Ben hit the accelerator and sped away. Bodies tumbled when the truck suddenly wasn’t there anymore. He honked the horn as he drove away, long beeps that were sure to entice the undead.

  In all the excitement, Ben nearly sped past Olympia Drive. He pumped the brake and then swerved. The tires screeched against the damp asphalt and the tail shuttered as he made the corner. Honking a few more times for good measure, he slowed down before he disappeared.

  Slowly but surely, the infected trailed behind him. He watched in the rearview mirror until the infected, leading the horde, were within twenty feet. Then he honked the horn and drove down another block or two. He continued this tiresome pattern until he estimated the bulk of the horde had been drawn away from Mill Plain. Time was running out and he wanted to get back before the deadline.

  Just minutes before it passed, Ben drove down the street past SportsMart. Thankfully, the parking lot was clear and all the infected were out of sight. He couldn’t miss the trail of decapitated corpses marking their path. He smiled, grateful for the work of Beast.

  Ben stopped in the intersection and flashed his headlights at the SUVs. A moment later, they both drove towards him. Ben wiped sweat off his brow and turned down the heater. The rush of adrenalin invigorated him. A huge grin lit up his face and he laughed at the insanity of this new world.

  99

  The sun found gaps between the clouds that sent light beams across the sky. The beauty of it was largely lost on Ben’s group as they worked to collect vital gear from SportsMart.

  With more people and more vehicles, they put a sizeable dent in the store’s stock in a fraction of the time it took them last time. Carts full of guns, ammo, camouflaged clothing, and other gear such as knives, maps, and fire starters were hauled to the front and shuttled through the security fence. Oliver did a great job since he was so small. After each load, they packed everything into their three large vehicles.

  Oliver found a camo face mask that he insisted on wearing. Ben liked it, even though it honestly made him look a little frightening. He handed Ben a box of candy bars. Before Ben could pass it on, Oliver managed to snatch one for himself.

  “Slick move, kid,” Ben said with a smile.

  “Let’s stop at Amboy market when we get there and clean the shelves,” Nancy said. “We’ll happy to have this food but it’ll get old after a while.”

  “Whatever is left, we’ll grab it,” Ben said, nodding.

  “We’re all set,” Anuhea said. She wiped sweat off her forehead and leaned against her SUV.

  “How are you doing, Chadwick?” Ben asked.

  “Brilliant,” Chadwick said as he continued to watch for infected.

  “Great, let’s move out.” Ben climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Luring the infected away had worked better than Ben expected. Not even one had come back around. He started the engine and mentally traced the route that would take them to Lake Merwin Shoreline Camp.

  There was no doubt in his mind that I-5 would be packed with abandoned vehicles and infected. He just hoped the other route had not suffered the same fate. Getting a partial tour of Vancouver was bound to be interesting.

  As long as it’s not too interesting, Ben thought with a smirk.

  He didn’t want to fight again for a while. If the lake was how he expected it, they might not have to fight again unless they did raids in town. That would be the life.

  Wind whistled through a gap in the passenger window as he cruised down the road. Driving wasn’t nearly as much fun with no music. No company either. Ben sighed.

  His mind wandered to the date. Was it still November or was it December? It might even be January for all he knew. Not that it mattered. With no work, no appointments, and nowhere to be, the only important measure of time was the daylight hours. He sighed. It would just be nice to keep track of time.

  Houses and buildings whipped by in a blur as they drove north. The street wound its way through town without much hassle. Small clusters of infected could be seen now and then, but none blocked the road. A decent sized horde occupied the Frank Mayor parking lot. Their convoy was gone before the zombies could even react.

  A few sprinters chased them for a few blocks. They weren’t as persistent as the runners Ben had seen in the past and eventually they veered off to chase something else. He had to tamp down his curiosity about what had distracted them. Nothing mattered now except getting food at the market and then getting to the camp.

  Ben quickly grew tired of sitting in silence. Just for kicks, he turned on the radio and scanned the stations. All he found on both AM and FM was static. Not even a hobbyist was out there hijacking the airwaves. Nothing.

  A green and white sign for Lewisville State Park told Ben that they’d soon be crossing the Lewis River, a feature that meant they were getting close to Lake Merwin. He glanced in his mirror and saw the SUVs following along, smooth as can be.

  “Oh shit,” Ben shouted as his foot stomped on the brake.

  His seatbelt dug into his shoulder and the tires squealed in protest. Gear in the back seat flew forward, slamming against the back of Ben’s seat. Everything in the bed shifted with a screech. Ben glanced in the rear view, bracing for impact when the SUVs skidded to a halt behind him. Anuhea swerved into the next lane to avoid hitting his mom, but thankfully none of them crashed.

  Ben sat that for a moment, catching his breath. Just as he had thought things were going well something always happened to make him choke on his heart. He pried his hands off the steering wheel and checked for infected but saw none. He climbed out of the truck and leaned against the side, bent over with his hands on his knees.

  “What the hell was that about?” Anuhea asked as she stepped out of the SUV into the road.

  Ben held a finger up and swallowed hard to keep his stomach from pitching out of his mouth. He looked at the road ahead and at the remains of the bridge they were supposed to drive over. If he hadn’t stopped, he would have dropped to the water below.

  Nancy also joined them in the road with a worried look on her face. “What’s the matter?”

  “The bridge…” Ben said, shaking with adrenaline. “It’s, uh, not in working order, let’s say.”

  Nancy rushed over to Ben and started to rub his back.

  “I’m fine, mom. Thanks.” Ben shrugged her hands off but tried to force a smile, so it didn’t seem rude. “That was a close one.”
/>   Anuhea stood by the front of the truck.

  “Very close,” she said over her shoulder. “Five more feet and you would have had a quick drop and a hard stop.”

  Nancy walked to stand beside Anuhea and gasped.

  “Sweet Christmas,” she exclaimed. “How did that happen?”

  Ben shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”

  “Is there another way to get to the camp?” Anuhea asked.

  “Yeah. We just have to backtrack a little way and hope the bridge over there is still intact.” Ben turned to look at Chadwick and Oliver.

  Chadwick held his hands up in a questioning motion, wondering what they were doing. Oliver must have taken it as a rest stop because he got out of the vehicle and ran to the side of the road to take a leak.

  “Everything okay up there?” Chadwick asked, keeping an eye on Oliver.

  Ben nodded. “The bridge collapsed. We have to go around.”

  Chadwick’s eyebrows rose for a second before he climbed out and walked over to join them.

  “Bloody hell. How did that happen?” Chadwick asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Ben said with a frown. Why did they keep asking him?

  They walked to the edge, or as close to the edge as they dared, and inspected the damage. A ten or fifteen-foot gap in the bridge gave them a view of the river below. Chunks of concrete could be seen far below littering a ledge on the pylon near the water. Pieces of rebar poked out from the edge of the road like fingers ready to snatch you out of the air. Anuhea wasn’t joking, he’d have been screwed if he was a second slower.

  “Look, there are scorch marks,” Anuhea said, pointing at jagged stumps of pillars that used to hold up the section.

  “Scorch marks? What does that mean?” Nancy asked.

  “This was intentional then,” Chadwick said. “Why? And who would have the skills to demolish a bridge?”

  “The military is the most obvious group, but this isn’t a main road. Few people would know or care about it. I suppose it could have been a local,” Ben said.