Undead Series (Book 1): Blight of the Dead

by Breckenridge, Erin E.

  Raven

  “Raven watch out!” Henry yelled, quickly yanking his knife from a zombie’s skull. The zombie slid slowly sideways, partially propped up on the trunk of an elm tree, hands falling limply to its sides. Blood ran down its arm and dripped from the tips of its fingers, pooling on the ground.

  “Crap!” Raven exclaimed, ducking out of the way of a pair of reaching hands.

  The female zombie she’d dodged was totally nude and her large breasts jiggled back and forth. Raven pushed her away, expertly dodging the undead’s open maw. She sunk her axe in the woman’s skull, stopping her in mid action. The light ran out of her eyes and she went limp, crumpling to the ground.

  “That was close, sis,” Henry called. He stood about twenty feet away, taking down the last zombie in the pack.

  They had been driving all night, trying to cover as much ground as possible. Finding Liz’s trail had been a dead end. Henry had been able to follow the deuce and a half’s tracks for a while then they ran into a newly paved road. After that it was anyone’s guess which way the captors went. Disheartened, Raven and Henry had made their way toward the President’s second meeting, as it was only a few short days away. They didn’t know what else to do and thought that at least there would be other people there that might have seen a large army green truck and a little girl. Then they could continue their search for Liz.

  “Sure as fuck was!” Raven responded, yelling over the distance. She wiped the congealed blood from her blade, cleaning it against the grass.

  The ground was littered with the bodies of the undead. Piled in confused jumbles of decaying flesh. Raven stepped over the corpse of a young boy. He wore swimming shorts and had on a single water shoe. His torso was bare except for the tattered remains of his yellow shirt.

  Rocky barked and Raven glanced at the truck. It was parked next to a large oak tree, out of the way of the melee. Her dog was staring at her from behind the glass, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. Raven could see the grey form of Neptune sitting on the dash, tail lashing. The kitten had taken an instant dislike to Monique and Raven approved heartily. In the intervening weeks since Liz was taken, she’d grown more and more exasperated with that woman. She was a selfish person who cared naught for anyone else. Raven would’ve left her behind long ago if it weren’t for Henry. Her brother, for reasons that Raven didn’t want to fathom, defended Monique.

  “Damn him,” Raven muttered, staring at her through the dirty glass.

  Monique raised her hand in a tentative wave and Raven turned away without responding.

  “Come on,” she called to Henry. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Her brother jogged toward her, smiling and brandishing his knife like a dork.

  Raven laughed. “Hurry it up, fucker,” she said, smiling. “We’ve only got two days until the meeting.”

  They had just turned onto Highway 7 when a herd of undead blocked their path. It had taken them half an hour to take them all down.

  “Would’ve been faster with more help,” Raven muttered, thinking that Monique needed to pull her weight. Right now all she did was slow them down. Her desire to learn to fight hadn’t been sincere and she sure didn’t make her own way. Raven cursed under her breath.

  “What’d you say?” Henry asked. Panting and sheathing his knife, he caught up with her. Monique had cut his hair last night so was short once more. The weather had stayed bitterly cold and dry for the last week or so and Henry wore Under Armour and a heavy wool coat that he often gave to Monique when she was not in the truck.

  “Nothing,” Raven responded. She’d learned better than to share her opinion. The woman reached her brother’s libido if not his heart. “Let’s get going,” she said.

  They approached the truck and Raven saw Monique peering back anxiously. Her brother inhaled sharply and Raven frowned. She saw a long future ahead of them and was reluctantly realizing that Monique might play a starring role. The woman hadn’t asked them to help her find her family in more than a week and Raven thought she knew why.

  Henry waved and he had a damn goofy look on his face. Raven knew that look; he was smitten.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, swinging her axe gently at her side. Their boots crunched across gravel.

  “What?” Henry asked absently. He shot a sidelong glance at her.

  “Noth . . .” Raven began. She was prevented from answering by a long and ragged scream. “What the fuck?” Raven exclaimed breaking into a jog.

  “It sounded like it came from there,” Henry said, pointing.

  The road had wound them down through the hills and they were nearly on flat ground. Just ahead of them was a gentle curve in the road, lined by tall spruces and furs. The scream sounded like it came from just around the bend.

  Raven reached the truck first and yanked open the driver’s side. In the intervening time since the haphazard trip with Liz to the Mom and Pop, Raven had taken to driving like a fish to water. She’d become proficient under Henry’s instructions and patience.

  “Move over,” she hissed at Monique. Raven’s expression was fierce and she bared her teeth.

  Monique quailed and scooted into the middle. Henry climbed in through the passenger door and put his arm around her.

  Rocky barked and licked Raven’s face and Neptune stayed on her accustomed spot on the dash, peering out of the window.

  “What’s wrong, Moni,” he asked, using the nickname he’d picked out for her, much to Raven’s annoyance.

  Monique didn’t even glance at Raven, having learned to leave her the hell alone most of the time. “I was frightened for you,” she spoke, clasping Henry’s hand and pulling her body closer to his.

  “It’s okay,” he said, stroking his hand across her brow to soothe her.

  Raven put the truck into gear and headed down the bend. “There’s more danger ahead,” she said. “Are you going to help us, Moni?” she asked, mordantly spitting out the woman’s nickname.

  Monique opened her mouth then closed it, glaring at Raven. She scowled and pulled Henry closer but did not answer.

  Raven glared back, glancing between Monique and the road.

  Rocky barked, shattering the charged silence.

  “Okay, ladies,” Henry said loudly. “Let’s take it down a notch, yeah?”

  Raven scoffed and turned the wheel slightly, keeping with the curve in the road. It led them into an intersection. The highway sign read they were at the crossing point of Highway 7 and Speedway 99. In that intersection there were two people fighting against a large undead man. It didn’t look like they were winning. The undead grappled with an older man. He had a flannel shirt on over deeply faded blue jeans. Cords stood out on his neck and he fought a losing battle to keep the zombie’s snapping jaws from his face. A rifle lay in the road, looking like it had been bent by a giant hand. The barrel was curved back almost upon its own stock.

  “What the fuck?” Raven murmured.

  A woman with short white hair that had streaks of faded color smacked the zombie on the head with a dented aluminum bat. A blue van idled near the trees. Raven could see the silhouette of another woman inside, still and unmoving. Her hair fanned out in front of her face. Raven couldn’t make out her expression.

  “Pull over!” Henry exclaimed. “We have to help them!”

  Raven was already doing so. “Rocky you stay here,” she said, pushing him toward Monique. “I know you’ll stay here Monique,” she spat.

  Neptune meowed and crouched tensely on the dash. Raven gave her a pat on the head and jumped out of the truck. She heard Henry slam the passenger door and he was at her side. They ran for the grappling pair.

  “Stand back,” Raven told the woman with the bat.

  She looked like she wanted to argue but Henry grabbed her shoulder firmly and pulled her out of the way. “We’re going to help you,” he said.

  The zombie wore black tactical pants and heavy looking boots. Its hair was covered in drying blood and thicker chunks of muck. It sn
apped its jaws, inches from the man’s face.

  Raven hooked her boot in the open cargo pocket and vaulted up to grab its shoulder. The zombie’s attention was focused on its next meal and didn’t take any notice of Raven. The man’s eyes widened but he said nothing. His face was ashen, but a slight smile curved his lips. Raven drove her axe into the zombie’s skull, burying it deeply in the tissue. Slowly, the Zombie went limp, staying on its knees long enough for the older man to scuttle back. He stood and hurried to the woman, pulling her into his arms. The zombie fell face down on the asphalt. Partially congealed blood pooled around him from the wound in his head.

  Raven pulled her blade free in a spray of ichor and brain matter. A chunk of tissue hit her in the face; it stuck to the skin of her cheek. Raven cursed and wiped it away. Looking around for Henry, she scowled. He stood beside the strangers, conversing lightly. Raven couldn’t make out his words but his body language was relaxed and his hands moved in wide gestures.

  “Where the fuck were you?” she yelled, striding toward him.

  Henry jumped, glancing at her and backing up a few paces in the face of her fury.

  Smiling sheepishly, he spoke. “You totally had it, sis.” He spread his hands out in front of him placatingly.

  Raven frowned but was reluctant to scream at her brother in front of strangers. Save it for later, she thought.

  “Hello,” the older woman spoke, walking forward and smiling hesitantly. “My name it Barbara Jean but everyone calls me Bee.”

  She held out her hand and Raven took it. Bee had a firm handshake and Raven felt her fury ebb.

  “Hi,” she responded. “I’m Raven and this is my brother, Henry.” She gestured to him with a forceful jut of her hand.

  “Ma’am,” the man spoke, wiping his palm on his jeans and clasping Raven’s hand. “My name is Rodney and I’d like to thank you for saving our bacon back there.” He gesticulated vaguely toward the body of the undead.

  Raven smiled. “You’re very welcome,” she responded.

  The door of the truck opened and Monique flounced out, making her way toward them. She walked wide around the undead, glancing at it in disgust.

  Raven suppressed a groan. “That’s Monique,” she spoke. “And my dog Rocky.” She pointed to the truck.

  “What’s the cat’s name?” Bee asked. Her voice was steady. She’d recovered quickly from the shock.

  Raven approved. “Neptune,” she answered. “Henry found her wandering in the woods.”

  Bee opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Monique sashaying their way. She walked right past Raven and Bee and up to Rodney like she thought any man was worth paying attention to.

  “That one’s a piece of work, huh?” Bee spoke.

  Raven laughed. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “She’s got my brother by the balls.”

  Bee chortled.

  Monique and Rodney were talking, her in soft murmurs and he with short answers. Bee frowned and strode toward them. She took Rodney’s hand possessively and he looked grateful for it. They backed up a couple of steps. Monique frowned and that made Raven smile.

  “So,” Henry said loudly, taking Monique by the elbow. He didn’t appear to care about her attempt at flirtation with Rodney. “Where are you headed?” he asked.

  Bee and Rodney glanced at each other and Raven watched some silent communication flash between them.

  “We heard a radio broadcast that mentioned a meeting place near here,” Rodney said. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea or not actually but we don’t want to be out here by ourselves anymore.”

  Bee nodded and glanced at their van. Her expression was sad. A shiny-coated golden retriever sat by the woman’s side, panting peacefully.

  “That’s Louise and my dog Scout,” Rodney supplied.

  Raven saw the woman inside hadn’t moved. “Is she all right?” Raven asked.

  “For the moment, I believe so,” Bee answered, running her hand through her multicolored hair. “Long term, I have no idea.” She explained Louise’s condition to them.

  “That’s too bad,” Henry said. His arm was around Monique’s waist and she cuddled into his side.

  Raven closed her eyes and counted to ten. It wasn’t enough.

  “Have you seen a little girl about twelve years old?” Raven asked. She pictured Liz’s face and her stomach lurched. The more time that went by the more hope Raven lost. “She’d got curly brown hair and she’s very shy.” Her throat closed and tears stung the back of her eyes. Not wanting to cry in front of Monique, Raven fell silent.

  “She was taken from us a few weeks ago,” Henry supplied, voice gruff.

  “I’m so sorry,” Bee said, reaching toward Raven as if to comfort her then let her hand fall back to her side.

  Monique’s face lit up. “Maybe these people on the radio have seen her.”

  Raven ignored her. They’d discussed that already; that was the main reason they were heading that way. Monique’s an idiot, she thought.

  “Is the meeting point off of that highway and Raccoon Road?” Henry asked, pointing to the Highway 7 sign.

  Rodney nodded. “It is son. Did you hear the broadcast?”

  “We did,” Henry answered, smiling slightly.

  They were all silent for a moment, regarding each other. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a storm was rolling in. The clouds blowing in from the north were dark and ominous and Raven smelled rain on the air. Monique was looking at the clouds with an uncertain expression.

  “There’s safety in numbers,” Bee offered, face open and guileless

  Raven met Henry’s gaze and her brother nodded.

  “Sounds good to me,” Raven agreed, holding her hand out to shake first with Bee then with Rodney.

  They walked toward their respective vehicles, discussing polite and trivial things.

  A feeling of peace settled over Raven and she held to it tightly. They would find Liz, she was sure of that. They just had to keep looking and this meeting point was as good a place to start as any. The first drops of rain fell, leaving splotches on the asphalt. It pattered through the trees bringing with it the fresh smell of the forest.

  Riley

  Riley cleared his throat sharply, wishing for a cold beer, or a Coke. Not like cold anything is thick on the fuckin’ ground, he thought ruefully.

  The concrete was hard but he stayed down on one knee, where the President wanted him. Riley’s hair had grown over the intervening months and was badly in need of a trim, sticking out from his head in a moderate Afro. The skin beneath his eyes was dark with weariness and the orbs themselves were red and dry. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down the dark flesh of his neck. Shame piled on his shoulders, like something palpable and unbelievably heavy. He’d lost his brother to that skinny bitch and most of his belongings along the way. He still had a large buck knife and a single MRE. His jacket was torn and sticky with blood and dirt.

  Even worse, he now found himself as a fucking errand boy for this pussy little shit. If this were the old days he’d beat the crap out of Angler without a second thought. Riley felt his heart thumping heavily with the idea and made sure his expression did not reflect these thoughts.

  “What have you to tell me?” President Angler questioned. His voice was quiet. Two menacing men stood on either side of him. The President never went anywhere without Beefy and Burley.

  Three weeks had passed since the president’s men had picked up Riley. He’d been wandering rather hopelessly through the mountains, adrift without Zach, without his rifle, which he’d lost while escaping the undead. They’d took him in and at first he’d been grateful, but now Riley was sick of doing this man’s bidding, scouting the mountains all day for little reward.

  The President cleared his throat impatiently.

  “There’s a settlement,” Riley spoke, still staring down at the floor. A sharp pain shot through his leg, traveling from knee to groin and he let out a grunt of discomfort.

  “Stand up,” Presiden
t Angler instructed.

  Riley complied gladly. They were in a large utility room that reminded Riley of the multipurpose room in elementary school. More men, armed and rigid, fanned out behind the President. The man himself sat in an over-stuffed easy chair. Someone had thrown a red blanket over the back, making it look rather kingly.

  Riley grimaced, trying to ignore the stiffness of his lower back. The president gestured for him to continue.

  “There’s a small town about six miles east of here,” he cleared his throat again. “They’ve got it barricaded up pretty good. I snuck in at night and didn’t see no men. There were a couple of women on duty minding the perimeter but they were easy to get past.”

  “Anything else?” President Angler inquired, tapping his fingers on his thigh.

  “They had a lot of food,” Riley responded, stomach rumbling. He’d been out all night and it was long past time for breakfast.

  The President laughed, slapping the arm of the chair. The kingly blanket fell from the armrest, displaying the threadbare fabric beneath. “You did well,” Angler responded.

  Riley dipped his head, feeling a mixture of annoyance and pride. His father had never shown any interest in Riley or cared to compliment the things he did well. The approval of any authoritarian man caused a reluctant bud of gratification to bloom.

  Angler turned to his entourage, “You,” he pointed to a tall, slender man with dark brown hair and an overgrown beard.

  “Fred, sir,” the man responded, ducking his head deferentially.

  “Fred,” Angler spoke with the ghost of a smile on his lips. His attention migrated across the room where there was a small cluster of woman. They sat on an expansive quilt dressed in their underthings or less. The women conversed between themselves in low voices; occasionally shooting fearful looks at Angler. The President grinned unpleasantly, eyeing one busty woman in particular. She sat in a pair of black panties and a see-through tank top. Her long brown hair fell across her face, tickling the dark flesh of her thighs.