Undead Series (Book 1): Blight of the Dead

by Breckenridge, Erin E.

  “Come on, hurry,” Henry said, leaning out the driver’s side window, gesturing frantically. He glanced to the tree line.

  Raven saw, to her dismay, a man stumble out of the trees. He was short and clothed only in a pair of torn boxer shorts. The bottom of his face was missing, leaving only his upper jaw and tongue. The muscular organ, waggled back and forth, dripping blood and saliva. His menacing growl could be heard across the space between them.

  “Fuck, Raven!” Henry whispered forcefully. “Hurry up.”

  Raven took a deep breath and hustled Rocky around the truck by his collar. He jumped inside and she followed, slamming the door shut.

  The zombie man let out a harsh scream and raced toward them, bare feet slapping the wet asphalt.

  “Go, go,” Raven urged.

  Henry threw the truck into gear and made a quick U-turn, racing out of the tourist spot that could’ve become a death trap and back onto the steep mountain road.

  They were quiet for a while. Rocky panted and Raven stared out of the window, trying not to think. It was a losing battle and her mind raced. What are we going to do after we get to the cabin? she worried. She knew they’d brought enough food to last for quite some time — bags two and three — but eventually their supplies would run out and they would have to go back into town. Save that for later, she told herself firmly. Let’s just get there and see what’s what.

  “How much longer?” Raven asked.

  Henry sighed. “Less than an hour.” He checked the rearview constantly.

  Raven knew what he was looking for and she dearly hoped that they’d left it far behind them.

  At the Cabin

  They pulled up to the cabin at a little after one in the afternoon. The truck’s tires crunched across dirt and gravel, leaving clear impressions behind them.

  “Once we get settled,” Henry said. “We should rub out those tracks.”

  “Okay,” Raven agreed, staring at the cabin. It was bigger than she had imagined; two stories with an enclosed balcony on the second floor. It was an authentic looking log cabin with a shake roof, tightly fitted wooden shingles that looked fairly new, and no visible windows on the bottom floor. “Hmm,” Raven hummed, petting Rocky’s head. His coat had come off some time ago, as it was warm in the cab. Raven grabbed it and shoved it into bag one. The drizzle had quickly turned to a deluge while they drove, soaking the dog’s blanket. Luckily all four bags were beneath the seat. It took away most of her foot room but all of their food and supplies had stayed dry. Should’ve bought a tarp, Raven thought.

  “What,” Henry asked, responding to her thoughtful hmm.

  “Oh,” Raven said, pulling her brain back to reality. She had begun to muse about the odd nature of life. Just yesterday she was planning a camping trip with her friends and today she was evaluating a cabin for its unbreachable fortitude. “I was just thinking that it’s weird and helpful that the cabin doesn’t have any window on the bottom floor.”

  “Yeah,” Henry responded, pulling the truck to a stop and cutting the engine. “That was part of what made me think of this place.” His expression closed down and Raven was sure he was thinking of Sarah. She wasn’t about to ask.

  “Why would someone build a cabin with no windows?” Raven asked, wanting to distract her brother from his maudlin thoughts. She knew that men could be diverted with questions about building or weapons. It had certainly worked with her father. Whenever he was pissed about something, Raven would ask him to explain to her the mechanical nature of anything nearby. She hadn’t really cared about the information but it sure worked to calm her father down.

  “I’m not really sure,” Henry responded. “I think it has something to do with how much it snows here in the winter. The bottom windows would be weak points where the pressure from the snow could break the glass. I don’t know if that actually happens.” He shrugged. “Whatever the reason, I’m grateful for it.”

  The truck filled with silence and the sound of Rocky’s panting. Raven looked at the sky, finding, to her chagrin, that it looked even darker and more forbidding. Heavy rain clouds continued to dump water from the heavens in sheets.

  At least it isn’t January, she thought, imagining how cold and snowy it got. It never snowed in Hallows Point, too close to the ocean.

  “Do you think anyone’s in there?” Raven asked, thinking that Sarah might have family that shared her brother’s great idea. The cabin looked unoccupied but without bottom windows, she couldn’t be sure. Hell, without going inside they couldn’t be sure.

  “I doubt it,” Henry responded. “I only met her father and he died, leaving her this cabin. She has no other family that I’m aware of.” His expression darkened again.

  The windows in the truck were starting to fog with the warmth of their breathing. Henry wiped the glass with his sleeve, clearing it. The rain continued to pound.

  “Let’s go,” Raven said, unable to sit still any longer.

  “Okay,” Henry answered. “There’s a front door and a back door. Do you want to split up?”

  “No!” Raven spoke, more forcefully than she’d intended.

  Henry smirked. “Okay, fine,” he said, laughter riding his voice. “We’ll both go in the front. I don’t know what key goes to the back door anyways.” He pulled out a set of keys that must’ve belonged to Sarah. They had a pink rubber flower as a keychain and sported a multitude of gold and silver keys.

  “That’s a lot of keys,” Raven said, smiling. She wondered what they all went to. “Which one opens the front door?”

  Henry frowned and sorted through them. They jingled gently against each other. “This one, I think,” Henry answered, pulling out a large silver key with rounded edges.

  “Okay,” Raven said, heartbeat speeding. “Let’s do this.”

  She got out of the truck and Rocky followed. “Stay by me,” she spoke to the dog. He was really good about listening most of the time. He looked scared right now so she thought he’d heed her all right.

  Holding her axe tightly in her right hand, Raven approached the cabin, listening hard for any sounds of rustling brush or cracking branches. Henry followed closely behind her, knife in one hand and keys in the other. Rocky stuck by her side, ears twitching.

  The cabin was in the center of a small clearing. Late blooming flowers decorated the ground in bright swatches of blue, yellow and purple. The dirt was packed down and Raven didn’t see any recent footprints.

  “I don’t think anyone’s been here in a while,” she whispered, stepping carefully over a fallen branch.

  “Probably not,” Henry answered, matching her quiet tone. “It’s been a few months since I was here last.”

  Months? Raven thought. Her brother had been in a committed relationship for months and she’d had no idea. She chastised herself for her lack of attention. Henry was a fairly private person, quite the opposite of her, but still she should have known. Well, she thought ruefully. We’ll have plenty of time together now. Raven wished it were under better circumstances.

  They reached the door, made of darkly stained wood with a brass knob, and Henry inserted the key. It turned easily in the lock. He glanced at her.

  Raven stood to one side of the door so she would not be silhouetted when it opened. She motioned for Rocky to get behind her and nodded at Henry.

  He pushed the door open and stood to the opposite side. It swung in with a creak, letting out a gust of musty smelling air. Henry eased himself around the door jam, peering in, knife held ready.

  “It looks clear,” he murmured. “I’ll go first.”

  He stepped inside, pausing to let his eyes adjust and motioned for Raven to follow. Rocky nosed past her, sniffing the ground with interest.

  “Don’t wander off,” Raven whispered, touching the dog’s head.

  She walked inside and shut the door quietly behind her. The interior was very dark. Raven fumbled with her hand along the wall and found a switch.

  “I’m turning on the light,” she sai
d, not wanting to surprise her brother.

  “Go ahead,” Henry answered. “I can’t see shit in here.”

  Raven did. An overhead light came on, revealing the quaint and very clean interior. There was a large fireplace and a pellet stove with a metal pipe leading up and presumably out of the roof. A large and expensive looking television was mounted to the wall in front of a cushy tan couch with a black and orange afghan spread across the back. There was a wooden coffee table laden down with stacks of magazines and science fiction books. Raven recognized a few of her favorite authors.

  “It’s clear,” Henry spoke, letting out a sigh. He flopped down on the couch and stretched his arms above his head.

  “What do you mean?” Raven asked, still wary. “We haven’t checked the rest of the rooms.”

  “If there was a zombie in here it would’ve shambled this way by now with all the noise we’ve been making.” He waved vaguely into the air without looking at her.

  “I’m still going to look around,” Raven said. “Come on Rocky,” she said, patting her thigh.

  “Suit yourself,” Henry said, gesticulating again. He reached for the remote and turned on the television, switching through channels.

  Raven scoffed and walked through the nearest door, being careful not to stand directly in front of it. It led into a small kitchen, complete with wood stove and refrigerator, sink and a large metal trashcan. There was a light on the ceiling with a pull chain and Raven turned it on. The room looked a little strange without a window but it was painted a bright, sunny yellow with grey trim and the floor was clean white linoleum.

  “No one here,” she spoke to Rocky. She still kept the axe in her hand just in case. The dog padded to the trashcan and gave a hopeful sniff.

  “We’ll eat when we clear the rest of the rooms,” Raven said, simultaneously irked with her brother for his nonchalant attitude and amused all the same. She knew if he thought there was any danger, he wouldn’t let her search the rooms alone, but she had to check for herself.

  “Come on, dude,” she said to Rocky. “Let’s keep looking.”

  Henry was right; there was no one else here. The only other room on the ground floor was a bathroom, painted sea green with stencils of fish along the trim, and it was empty. Upstairs she’d found two bedrooms decorated in different themes of blue and orange. It was a little odd, everything from the paint on the walls, to the bedding was done in different shades of matching color.

  “I don’t want the blue room,” Raven spoke to Rocky as they walked back downstairs. “The comforter looks like toilet bowl cleanser.”

  She flopped down on the couch next to her brother. “I get the orange room,” she said.

  Rocky lay down at her feet and let out a sigh.

  “Look at this,” Henry said, pointing to the TV. It was tuned to channel seven and a somber newscaster was talking.

  “This is Bob Hencheck reporting from U C Memorial Hospital,” he said, projecting his voice.

  The scene at the hospital was chaotic. People ran back and forth in the background, wearing a mix of scrubs and street clothes. An Indian man in a white coat pushed a child in a wheel chair. His face was downcast and he moved quickly out of the frame.

  “The situation here is grim,” Hencheck continued, gesturing to the hospital.

  The camera did a panoramic view, showing the hospital’s main entrance. It was besieged with people, some rushing out in a panic and others trudging dourly in, looking sick and wane.

  It swung back to the reporter. He wore a dark suit and an ugly green tie. His visage was red and covered in sweat, big nose glistening. He coughed suddenly and a worried look washed across his features.

  “Things have gotten very bad here in Atlas City,” he continued, rallying. “The unknown virus rages unabated through the streets.” Someone screamed behind him and he glanced furtively around. “Um,” he stammered, pulling at his tie. “Healthy residents are advised to stay in their homes and not to let anyone in.”

  “The dead walk the streets!” a woman yelled, stumbling into the shot. She wore an expensive looking pantsuit and sensible heels. Her hair sizzled around her face in unruly curls and her skin glistened. She looked fevered and sick.

  Hencheck looked startled. “Ma’am,” he said, pulling it together. “What do you mean by that?” He stepped closer to her and held out his microphone.

  “One of them bit me,” she said, pulling back her sleeve and shoving the festering flesh toward Hencheck.

  He recoiled visibly. “That’s unfortunate, ma’am,” he said, clearly unsure what to do now.

  “Too bad for her,” Henry said. “She’s a goner.”

  Raven frowned. “None of them look healthy,” she said, worried about this talk of viruses.

  The woman’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to her knees. Hencheck, clearly concerned, bent over her, reaching for her neck to take her pulse.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Henry said.

  “This isn’t going to end well,” Raven agreed, propping her feet up on the table. She was amused despite herself. It was like watching a train wreck, awful but you just couldn’t look away.

  The woman began to seize, flopping about on the ground like an electric eel. Hencheck held her shoulders, trying vainly to keep her still.

  “Help me, Susan,” he exclaimed, voice strained.

  The camera perspective changed and the camera woman walked into the shot. She’d set her camera down to help. Raven could see her from the waist down, jeans and boots and asphalt visible in the frame. Then she moved further from the camera and the rest of her came into view.

  “Goddamn,” Henry spoke.

  Raven’s mouth quirked into a smile.

  The camerawoman was striking. She had flowing red hair and pale skin. Her t-shirt strained over her breasts, nipples protruding in the chilly air.

  “Those are some big ass tits,” Henry said, laughing.

  “Sure are,” Raven agreed, petting Rocky absently.

  The luckily endowed Susan helped Hencheck hold down the flailing girl, muscles in her arms working visibly. She gave one last back arching contraction then stopped like a switch had been thrown. Hencheck and Susan held her at arms and ankles, clearly not sure if she was done seizing.

  “I wouldn’t stay there,” Henry intoned, sitting forward on the couch.

  Rocky raised his head and gave a quiet woof, eyes alert.

  The woman lay still as death, skin pale and yellowed. Red lines snaked across her chest.

  “I don’t think she’s breathing,” Susan spoke, voice delicate and gentle. Her hair fell across her face and she pushed it back with her hand.

  Hencheck reached across the woman, feeling for the jugular vein.

  “He’s going to get bitten isn’t he,” Raven spoke, pulling her knees in tight and wrapping her arms around them.

  “I expect so,” her brother answered, staring raptly at the TV.

  “I don’t feel a pulse,” Hencheck said.

  Before he could pull his arm back, the woman opened her eyes. The whites had turned red as blood and they moved sightlessly in their sockets. A low moan escaped her lips.

  “I guess I was wrong,” Hencheck spoke bemused. He coughed again, turning his face into his shoulder. His arm was still across her face.

  “Move that arm, dude,” Henry said.

  “Ack!” Hencheck screamed. The woman struck like a snake and bit his flesh; digging her teeth in. “Fuckin’ bitch!” he yelled and tried to pull away. There was no one to block out his cursing at the station and it came loud and clear over the airways.

  “Help me, Susan,” he pleaded while tugging at his arm. The skin stretched visibly but the woman did not let go.

  “He’s making it worse,” Raven said. “You shouldn’t pull out of a bite,” she told the television. “It only tears it more.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s a goner.” Her brother added.

  Hencheck screamed again and fell back on his butt.
The woman finally let go and launched herself bodily at him, pushing Hencheck to the ground. She snarled, gnashing her teeth audibly. The red lines had spread to cover her face and when she leaned in to feed, Raven could see another angry looking bite mark on her back.

  Susan hovered in the background, looking like a rabbit in the headlights. Her visage showed pure terror.

  “Better run,” Henry advised, sitting forward on the couch. He took off his jacket and laid it aside. “I lit the pellet stove for ya, sis,” Henry added absently.

  Raven smiled but didn’t turn to look; her eyes were glued to the screen.

  The woman tore out Hencheck’s throat, stopping him in mid shriek. He gasped, trying vainly to pull in a little more air. Blood spurted out, plastering the undead woman in red. Susan received a spray to the face. It covered her in spatter. That broke her paralysis and she shivered, coming to life. Taking one look at what was left of her coworker, Susan bolted, running faster that Raven would’ve thought possible in heels. Her footsteps were audible after she left the shot. The sharp clicks dissipated. All that could be heard were the disgusting sounds of feeding and tearing viscera. The screen went momentarily black then switched to some mindless commercial about Tasty O’s. The O's with the sugar that hides the vitamins, a perfect looking blond woman boasted from inside a fake kitchen.

  “I always thought that was a weird fucking slogan,” Henry said, leaning back in the couch with a sigh.

  “These are strange times,” Raven spoke.

  They sat quietly for a bit, listening absently to the television. The news never came back and the program switched to reruns of I Love Lucy.

  Henry yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “So what’s for lunch?” he asked, turning to Raven.

  Rocky raised his head at the mention of food, looking hopeful.

  Raven laughed. “All right, boys,” she said, rising from the couch. “I’ll whip something up.”

  Henry smiled and turned to look at her, leaning over the back of the couch. “I brought all the bags in while you are exploring.”