Everything Dies [Season Two]

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Everything Dies [Season Two] Page 1

by Malpass, T. W.




  Table of Contents

  Foreword

  Episode One - Won’t Someone Think of the Children? 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  Episode Two - The Insiders 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  Episode Three - Somnambulism 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  Episode Four - Conscientious Objector 1

  2

  3

  Episode Five - Confessions 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  Episode Six - These Hands 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  Episode Seven - Patient Zero 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  Episode Eight - Day of the Dead 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  EVERYTHING DIES

  SEASON TWO

  by

  T.W. MALPASS

  Published by Sericia

  You can find news of upcoming titles by T.W. Malpass and sign up to the mailing list via

  www.facebook.com/T.W.Malpass

  Or

  www.facebook.com/EverythingDiesSeries

  Join him on Twitter: @TW_Malpass

  Copyright © T.W. Malpass, 2019

  Cover Art: Michael Buxton

  Formatting: Guido Henkel

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

  Foreword

  When I decided to write something in a more commercial sub-genre of horror, I spent a long time agonising over whether that should be zombie apocalyptic fiction. Not just because the market seems so saturated with it right now, but because of my own familiarity with the genre. My interest in zombies goes right back to the eighties, when it was much more of a niche.

  About twenty years ago, I even attempted to write a series because I was so convinced that a world taken over by zombies would be compelling as an ongoing story. Not only did my idea come a little too soon, it became so mired in focussing on the mental illnesses developed by the survivors due to their isolation and the concept of sharing their world with walking corpses, it was virtually unreadable. It ended up being about a bunch of people who spent most of their time hidden away, slowly going insane and forgetting how to communicate with one another. Although that may be a more accurate depiction of the way in which humans would behave in that situation, believe me, it made for a mind-numbingly boring read.

  Everything Dies is an altogether different beast, and I don’t mind telling you, it certainly does not reinvent the wheel when it comes to zombie fiction. In fact, it more or less sticks to the tried and trusted tropes of the genre, with a few notable exceptions. What I have tried to do is focus on creating interesting characters that you will care about or even love to hate, but their surroundings will probably act as a warm comfort blanket for avid fans of the reanimated dead.

  I was also conscious that while this is indeed an ongoing series, many readers were getting a bit sick of the standard format. These books are written as a collection of episodes instead of traditional chapters. Each episode follows a particular arc and then ends with a hook into the next one – similar to a television show. Rather than the climax of the book ending on a cliff-hanger, it concludes in a way that should satisfy readers who wish to continue with the series and readers who don’t. If you liked the book enough to finish it, but not enough to continue with subsequent entries, you hopefully won’t feel as though you have completely wasted your time.

  As always, thank you for joining me on this journey. I do hope you enjoy Everything Dies, and please share your thoughts on it with other readers – good or bad.

  Stay classy, San Diego.

  Episode One

  Won’t Someone Think of the Children?

  1

  The white swell that crashed against the reef caused the entire water-logged herd to sway in unison. The tide had already risen up to their knees—even higher for the ones short in stature.

  Through the green filter of the night vision binoculars, Raine couldn’t distinguish their foe from regular people. Their feet now sunken into the wet sands up to their ankles, it enabled most of the herd to keep their balance in the midst of angry waters. All the while, they gazed up at the full moon as if it were the epicentre of their worship. Normally, the groans from a few hundred dead would have dominated the airwaves this close to the lighthouse, but the group couldn’t hear them. The herd was silent.

  ‘What can you see?’ Darla croaked. She reached up from her crouched position behind the rocks, hoping that Raine would pass her the binoculars.

  ‘They’re just standing there,’ Raine said.

  ‘The military were right about them moving to the coast in numbers.’ As Ethan spoke, he shuffled closer to Raine. His foot slid on the wet surface, accidently dislodging a loose rock and it bounced down from their elevated spot.

  ‘Watch where you’re steppin’, asshole,’ Darla said.

  ‘They can’t hear us from here,’ Raine said. ‘I’m not even sure they’d react to a gunshot right now. It’s like they’re hypnotised.’

  ‘By the water?’ Ethan asked.

  ‘The moon.’

  ‘Back in St. Louis County I saw one of those things tryin’ to jack a soda from an outdoor vending machine, but this shit is a new one on me,’ Salty said.

  Raine lifted the binoculars for a second look. The waves struck the beach with even more ferocity, flattening several of the creatures. When they rose to the surface again, they were tossed back and forth in the swell, twisting limbs and dislocating joints. It still didn’t deter the ones that remained upright. They never altered their position, beguiled by the silver wraith hanging in the sky.

  ‘Maybe it’s lunar cycles or somethin’,’ Darla said, without much more than a vague idea of what the term she’d uttered meant.

  ‘I’d put my money on it being “or something”,’ Ethan said.

  ‘It’s a pointless discussion anyway. We’ve gotta get out of here regardless,’ Raine said.

  ‘And go where?’ Salty said.

  ‘We’ll head for the border.’

  ‘Canada?’

  ‘We can bed in up north in a mountain range somewhere. The weather will shield us for most of the year.’

  ‘That ain’t no afternoon stroll, Miller,’ Salty said.

  ‘Everywhere is a trek the way things are now. We’ll just have to get used to that.’

  ‘And what about our little gathering down there?’ Ethan said.

  ‘We
take shifts keeping an eye on them and we wait for them to move on.’

  ‘What if they don’t want to?’ Salty said.

  ‘They will,’ Raine said. She lowered the binoculars and pushed them to Darla’s bony chest. ‘Seeing as you seem so keen, you’re first up.’

  ‘Yeah. Always willin’ to do my bit,’ Darla said with more than a pinch of sarcasm. She took them and crawled into a more advantageous spot overlooking the beach.

  ‘Someone will come and take over in about an hour,’ Raine said.

  Raine and the two men started to make their way over the rocks towards the lighthouse. For once, Ethan forged ahead, seemingly with the intention of putting as much distance between him and the others as possible. As he reached the edge of the walkway, he stopped to glance over to the opposite side of the reef. All three corpses were laid out side-by-side, covered by white sheets from the lighthouse’s pantry cupboard and weighed down with rocks.

  A gust from the sea breeze caught the corner of one sheet and folded it over, exposing the bandaged hand of Vincent Graham. It was more than enough for Ethan. He turned away and continued along the walkway to the front door.

  No sooner had he entered, Raine followed behind him. She’d broken into a jog to catch up.

  O.B. stood in the living quarters feeding a blanket into one of the backpacks. Some packs were already full, and the rest of their supplies were stacked on the floor ready to go.

  ‘I’m boiling some water for tea. Do you want some?’ he said.

  Ethan saw the old steel kettle bubbling on the stove and shook his head. ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘We haven’t talked… about last night,’ Raine said, partially out of breath.

  ‘As it should be. I don’t want to talk or think about last night ever again, if I can help it,’ Ethan replied.

  ‘You spoke to her before the end. What did she say?’

  Weary, Ethan leaned against the back of the lighthouse’s tattered armchair. ‘Why does this shit matter to you now, Miller?’

  ‘Because it does.’

  He sighed. ‘She said this is no world for a child.’

  ‘I knew it. Right from the moment I set eyes on them,’ Salty said, closing the door behind him. He’d managed to adjust his old cap to force it over his head bandage. ‘That Meth head out there might like to run her mouth more than a little too often for anyone’s likin’, but she was dead right about them, especially the kid.’

  ‘I’m sure it must be comforting for you to be right, Jake,’ Raine said.

  The wiry man shrugged his shoulders. ‘Don’t take no pleasure from it. Don’t make me out the bad guy ‘cause I state some facts that the rest of you ain’t willin’ to admit.’

  ‘So, you’re back in the room now then? Back in the conversation since your little convalescence?’ Raine said, her brow furrowed.

  Salty smirked. ‘Don’t worry, honey. This is your band of circus freaks to command and you’re welcome to them. I’m just taggin’ along for the ride.’

  He marched through the living space, trampling on the packages of food O.B. had set out on the floor, and then disappeared through the door to the staircase.

  Ethan rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and slumped into the armchair.

  ‘I guess we’ll have plenty of time to get our heads together when we hit the road.’

  ‘Do we have somewhere to aim for now?’ O.B. said, as he gathered the disrupted supplies back together.

  ‘Don’t forget to pack your mittens,’ Ethan said.

  2

  As agreed, they took turns watching over the gathering from the safety of the reef. But they didn’t have to for long. Shortly after dawn, the dead began to file back across the beach towards town. The only ones that remained were those crippled by the vicious temperament of the Atlantic and were now washed up on the shore.

  Once they were certain the herd had gone and it was not coming back, Raine, Ethan, O.B. and Darla carried the three bodies of their fallen companions to the opposite end of the reef where the rocks graduated into the water. The creeping daylight exposed the grim reality of the scorched carcasses further out to sea, to accompany the smog and the stench emitted from their smoking hulls.

  O.B. paused to wipe away the sweat from his forehead, staring out at the deadwood that dominated the horizon.

  ‘What happened to Jake?’ he said, glancing back towards the lighthouse.

  ‘He won’t be joining us,’ Ethan said.

  Impatient, Darla grabbed the smallest body by the ends of the sheet it was wrapped in and started to drag it down to the lapping water. Her left foot slipped on the slimy surface and she lost her balance, forcing her to let go of the sheet. She fell onto her side and the body tumbled with it.

  ‘Be careful with her,’ Ethan snapped.

  He climbed down and stood astride Emily’s body in order to roll her face-up again. As he did, he stared into the circular patch of blood that had soaked through the sheet around her head. He could smell the death seeping out of the fabric and the excited hum of the flies as they swarmed around the funeral site.

  Raine moved to his side and placed her hand on the body.

  ‘Come on. Let’s carry them to the edge together,’ she said.

  Ethan nodded.

  ‘I looked for that stuffed bunny she carried around. I thought she might have liked it to be with her, but I couldn’t find it anywhere.’

  ‘She probably lost it after she got sick,’ Raine said.

  They took Emily down first. O.B. and Darla carried Kristin, and they all went back to collect Vincent. Once they’d done the heavy lifting, they lined them up, their bodies touching through the blood-stained shrouds, bound together with string.

  ‘Sh-shouldn’t someone say something? Some words, I mean,’ O.B. said.

  ‘We gotta haul ass. Get to those vehicles before somebody else does,’ Darla said.

  Raine stepped forward, nervously cleared her throat and began to speak.

  ‘These people—this family, fought for us. Fought with everything they had. But it wasn’t enough. Maybe nothing we do now will ever be enough, but we’ll keep going—for them. For their sacrifice. The longer we live, the longer we keep the memories of those that have fallen alive.’

  Ethan wiped the tears and snot away and took a hold on the shroud containing Vincent Graham.

  ‘O.B., help me,’ he said.

  The young man came to his aid and they carefully slid the body from the edge of the reef. It hit the water, disappearing for a second before bobbing to the surface again. They pushed Kristin over next, and then Emily last.

  They moved back to where Raine and Darla were standing and watched as the sea cradled the Grahams and carried them further and further into its deep blue heart.

  3

  On any normal day, the early morning sands would have been unblemished—cleansed and smoothed over by the high tides a few hours prior. Today, as the group trudged towards town, the beach was indented with hundreds of footprints from the exodus of the dead horde. It was also littered with driftwood and damaged cargo that had washed-up from the sunken ships.

  They were forced to tread cautiously. Several creatures lay around, immobilised and broken by the waves, but still able to take a bite out of their ankles if they were foolish enough to get too close.

  ‘We shouldn’t be hittin’ the road until we’ve found more weapons and ammunition,’ Salty said.

  ‘It’s not ideal, but we won’t find anything here. When they evacuated Bower, they wouldn’t have left any firearms behind. If the residents didn’t take them, the soldiers would have,’ Raine said.

  Salty glanced at the assault rifle she was holding.

  ‘You gotta have no more than twenty or so rounds left for that. There’s one round left in the Beretta. If we ran into anything less than a small group, we’d be finished.’

  ‘I can make these bullets go a long way,’ Raine said.

 
‘I don’t dispute that statement. I saw how quickly that thing became an extension of your arm,’ Salty said.

  ‘You think that was easy for me?’ Raine said.

  ‘Never said it was easy. Just second nature.’

  O.B. grimaced as he approached a corpse wriggling in the sand. Its body had been snapped around the pelvic region and its bottom half was folded underneath its torso. Seaweed clung to its neck like a slime covered garland. Its decomposed skin had corroded even faster in the salt water. The perforated surface of its face and arms seem to have the texture of jelly. It lifted its left arm to try and grab him and, compelled by gravity, a strip of skin slid from the muscle.

  O.B. pushed the back of his hand against his nose and mouth and shuffled back.

  As soon as Darla saw the pitiful mess, she immediately started to search the area for something to end its misery.

  She found a part of a splintered boat mast and returned with it. She nudged O.B. out of the way and lifted the spear-shaped piece of wood above her head so she could plunge it into the creature’s face. Its skull gave way on impact and the mast squelched through to its brain. A dark fluid bubbled out and the creature fell limp.

  Ethan came across another one. This particular water-logged monster had been weighted down by a charred section of driftwood that lay on its chest. Its body had got tangled within the rope attached to the debris. The creature was missing its right eye and the one that remained fixed its gaze on Ethan.

  He noticed something around its neck glinting in the sunlight and knelt down beside it. As soon as he got closer, the creature reacted, gnashing its teeth. It tried to move, but the heavy obstruction held it in place. Its empty eye socket began to bulge, and for a fear-filled moment, Ethan half-expected its eye to grow back. Instead, a small crab forced its way out and scuttled over the dead skin of its cheek to reach the sands.

  The shiny object that had caught Ethan’s attention was a silver locket necklace. With the danger incapacitated, he was able to reach over and pop the locket’s clasp. The two pictures with each half had faded due to the water erosion, but he could make out a man in one image and a child in the other.

 

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