Contamination Box Set [Books 0-7]

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  Meredith nodded. The group looked at Keller. “What do you think, Tim?” Dan asked.

  “I’m in,” Keller said.

  With the vote unanimous, Dan suggested doing a quick sweep of the barn and the house, ensuring they weren’t leaving any weapons or supplies behind. He led the others back up the driveway.

  Keller fell in line, eyeing the group. He turned the knife in his hands.

  He imagined spearing John or Dan in the neck, but he knew that’d be a waste. He’d hold off a bit longer. His heart swelled with hate at the sight of Dan with his daughter. It reminded him of the time he’d spent with his mother.

  And those were memories he’d rather forget. In spite of his attempts to repress them, thoughts of his childhood came trickling back.

  Keller had spent his childhood in South Dakota.

  He’d grown up in a small house with his mother. He’d never known his father. Although Maria Keller had raised him, she’d barely spent time with him, preferring to leave Tim in the care of others. When she wasn’t working, she gambled away the little money she made, spending the rest on drugs and alcohol.

  And so Keller spent most of his childhood in the homes of strangers, with people who doled out more abuse than care.

  Even now, the worst incidents haunted him when he closed his eyes at night. When Keller was four years old, he’d been burned by a meth addict named Katrina. The woman had warned him several times not to come near the stove, but being only four years old, Keller hadn’t listened. When he’d approached to ask her a question, Katrina had grabbed his hand and stuck it against a hot metal frying pan. Afterward, she’d iced his wound and begged him not to tell his mother. He’d confessed when she’d picked him up.

  Maria Keller had shrugged and told him he should’ve listened.

  Another time, his mother left him with a cocaine addict named Grayson. Grayson locked Keller in a closet for an entire weekend, with no food, nothing to play with. All he was given was a bottle of water. A few minutes before his mother was due to pick him up, Grayson let Keller out. Keller’s mother had ignored his story—if she believed him, she didn’t care.

  When Keller was eleven, his mother had finally abandoned him. She’d driven him to a fast food restaurant, given him three dollars for food, and sent him inside. When he’d come out, she’d been gone.

  For the next seven years, Keller spent time in and out of orphanages and foster homes, receiving care that wasn’t much different from what he’d received from his mother. When he was eighteen, he was finally released from the system. By that time, he’d made a promise: he’d find his mother, and he’d pay her back for the shit life he’d had.

  He finally located Maria in a motel room, strung out on drugs, half-starved. When his mother saw him, she cried, apologizing for the life of abuse and abandonment he’d endured. Then she’d asked him for money.

  He’d responded by strangling her.

  The police attributed Maria’s death to a drug deal gone bad, and Keller was never questioned. With his mother dead, Keller found himself just as lost and angry as he had been before.

  For several years, he switched jobs, changed locations, and sought treatment for the abuse he’d suffered, but nothing satiated his desire for retribution.

  Nothing felt as good as what he’d done in that hotel room.

  So he decided to take out his frustrations on others instead. Although Keller had no control over what had happened in his own life, it was possible to impact the lives of others—people who had things better than him, people who took their privileged lives for granted. He’d cope with his battered childhood by harming others.

  He’d take away others’ happiness to make up for what he’d lost.

  The infection was a godsend, a gift for all the bullshit he’d endured. And Dan, Quinn, Meredith, and John were just another step toward vindication.

  19

  Having checked the barn and farmhouse and finding nothing, Dan led the group back down the driveway. They traveled in silence for several minutes, keeping watch on the surrounding fields and the road. In just a few hours, they’d lost the safety of the Sanders’ farmhouse, and now they’d lost the SUV and supplies.

  Dan didn’t know how much more could be stripped away. Hopefully they wouldn’t need to worry about it much longer.

  Hopefully there’d be help in Abbotsville.

  As they walked, Dan kept his ears perked for motors. These days, the sound of an engine was more likely to bring danger than assistance. Part of him wondered if the family in the SUV would have a change of heart and return to offer assistance, but he knew better than to expect it.

  The road was bordered by four-foot-high grass. Dan kept on the lookout for infected lurking in the weeds.

  “Stick to the shoulder,” he told his companions. “That way we can duck in the grass at the first sign of trouble.”

  They weaved from the pavement to the dirt, walking on the edge of the field. They traveled in pairs—Dan and Quinn in the front, John and Meredith behind them, Tim and Ernie following up the rear. The grass bent easily underfoot, whipping against Dan’s pant legs. Though he didn’t like being without a vehicle, Dan assuaged his fears with the fact that the infected were slower than they had once been. If they ran into any creatures, he and his companions would take a wide berth around them.

  Dan looked over his shoulder. The house and the barn were little more than specks in the distance. He prayed they’d made the right decision in leaving the Sanders’. The only thing between them and the infected now was the thin grass and the grace of God.

  “Daddy?” Quinn asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think the boy will survive?”

  “The one who robbed us?”

  “Yes.”

  Dan paused. “I’m not sure.”

  “Was he a bad person?”

  “No. I don’t think he was.”

  “Why’d he do this to us, then?”

  “Sometimes good people do bad things when they’re scared.”

  “I don’t want Grant to die, Daddy. Even after what he did.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine, honey.” He swallowed as he said the words, unsure if he believed them. Given their situation, they had enough to worry about.

  They continued talking in hushed tones. Dan was grateful for the conversation and the time with his daughter—anything to help distract him from the uneasiness of the journey. At the same time, he kept a wary eye on the road.

  His daughter was telling him a story about Ernie when Dan noticed several figures hovering in the distance. He gestured for his companions to duck.

  A few hundred feet away, a small pack of creatures was wading through the grass. Their movements were slow and unsteady, and they walked in silence. Dan’s heart galloped. In the waning sun, the figures resembled a group of mangled scarecrows making their way toward some unknown destination.

  Dan and his companions remained hidden for several minutes, until Dan’s legs were cramped and his forehead was glossed with sweat. Once the infected had moved on, he resumed his pace and beckoned for his companions to follow.

  A few miles later, Dan saw billowing smoke in the distance.

  Gray tendrils drifted into the sky, feeding the anxious feeling in his stomach. Since leaving the barn, they’d seen no other survivors, but their encounter with the robbers had thinned Dan’s nerves. He gripped his pistol and motioned for his companions to keep low.

  “What is it?” Meredith hissed.

  “I’m not sure. It’s coming from behind a house up ahead.”

  A white house with a gray roof had appeared, and the smoke was emanating from behind it. Dan’s first instinct was to steer clear of the property, but the prospect of help propelled him onward. What if there was someone who could assis
t them?

  What if there was a vehicle they could take?

  “When we get closer, I’ll sneak ahead and assess the scene,” he said.

  They continued through the grass, hunkering down to avoid notice. As they progressed, the odor of smoke grew stronger, filling Dan’s nose. He turned and motioned for his companions to stay put. Meredith grabbed Ernie and held him in her lap.

  “Be careful,” she mouthed.

  Dan nodded. He squeezed Quinn’s shoulder before parting ways. Having broken from the group, Dan increased his pace, snaking through the blades. He was reminded of his police training, when he’d been required to complete obstacle courses in certain time limits to prove his stamina. But this test had far greater ramifications—a single misstep could lead to death, and there were no retakes or do-overs in the land of the infected.

  The house seemed to grow in size as he approached, and soon he was a few hundred feet away. The exterior was weathered and worn, covered in chipped paint. The windows were cracked. The backyard contained a single oak tree and a barn. As he crawled closer, Dan saw the yellow flames from a fire pit, and he heard men’s voices. Two men were keeping company by the fire, laughing and chatting it up.

  He flattened against the grass. The ground was soft and pliant; the smell of fresh soil filled his nose. The men were drinking beers in chairs by the fire, rifles on their laps. One of them sported a ponytail; the other was thin and balding. Twenty feet away, tethered to an oak tree, was one of the infected. The creature was a woman in her sixties with short white hair. Thin gray arms sprouted from her dress, and she lunged at the men, snapping and snarling.

  The men faced another direction.

  Every so often, they stopped to taunt her, throwing sticks and beer cans at her battered body. They were in the middle of conversation when the woman moaned.

  “Calm down, Mom,” the man with the ponytail yelled. “It’s not my fault we finally inherited the house.”

  The other man belched. “Yeah, Mom. It only took us forty years. You tough old bird.”

  The men laughed. Something else caught Dan’s attention. His eyes roamed to a clothesline run from the oak tree to the house. Hanging by the hair were the severed heads of several infected. He choked and covered his mouth.

  “Be happy we kept you around, Mom. Our neighbors weren’t so lucky,” the balding man jested.

  Dan swallowed in disgust. In the last week, he’d been forced to kill numerous infected, but he’d never done it with pride, and he’d never gone out of his way to slay them. The fact that these men treated them as trophies was sickening. The infected had once been parents, friends, and neighbors…

  Wives…

  He repressed the image of Julie and surveyed the rest of the property. A battered pickup truck was parked at the end of the driveway, two hundred feet from the fire. As smug as these men were, it was possible they’d left the keys in it. They were clearly intoxicated, and they didn’t appear to be the smartest men he’d encountered, judging by the noise they made. Besides, the smoke was sure to draw the attention of others. It had drawn Dan, after all.

  Maybe that was their plan.

  The men glanced at the fields around them in between slugs of beer, patting the rifles on their laps.

  Dan inched backward, intent on reporting back to the others. He’d already ruled out the possibility that these men would help them. At the same time, he hadn’t ruled out taking their truck. If the keys were in it, perhaps Dan and his crew had a shot at taking it. Perhaps they could get to Abbotsville before dark.

  The irony of taking someone else’s vehicle wasn’t lost on him. Just an hour ago, their own SUV had been stolen. But Dan had no qualms about stealing from these men. Not after what they’d done to their mother and to the infected they’d slaughtered.

  Dan had only backtracked a few feet when he heard noises from across the property. Past the oak tree, several creatures had emerged from the adjacent field. The men sprung from their chairs, whooping and hollering.

  “Here we go, Marvin! Fresh kill!”

  “Is it my turn or yours?”

  “I think it’s yours, bro.”

  The men pointed their rifles, jeering and laughing. The infected resembled floating specters in the tall grass, the lower halves of their bodies obscured. When they staggered into the open, they locked eyes with the men, pawing the air. The frontrunner was a woman in a floral print dress. She groaned as she advanced. Marvin—the man with the ponytail—squeezed off a round from his rifle, striking her in the kneecap. The woman-creature toppled and fell. She continued clambering toward him, dragging herself on her wounded leg.

  “Don’t go far, girly!” Marvin shouted with glee. “You’re a pretty one. I’m going to enjoy cutting you up!”

  The other man pointed his rifle at the next creature. He whistled as he adjusted his aim.

  “Let’s see…arm? Leg? Shoulder? Whaddya think, Marvin?”

  “Whatever, Jed. Just don’t kill it! We might not get any more for a while.”

  “I won’t, I won’t.”

  Jed fired a bullet into the thing’s ankle, watching it pitch sideways onto the grass. He laughed, mimicking its movements, doing an exaggerated fall of his own. Then he ran forward and kicked it in the head. The thing crawled like a squished ant refusing to die. He withdrew a knife from his belt and shanked its leg, pinning it to the ground.

  The last creature was a man in overalls with short, wiry hair. The creature ambled over the injured bodies of its companions, oblivious to its fate. Marvin turned his rifle around and struck the creature in the face with the butt-end, laughing as it dropped to the ground.

  “What do you think, Mom?” Marvin called over to the infected woman tied to the tree. “We’re getting pretty good at this, huh? Don’t worry, your turn is coming soon enough.”

  The infected woman clawed the air, straining against the rope around her waist. If she understood her sons’ words, she made no acknowledgement of them.

  “I don’t think she gives a shit.” Jed guffawed.

  After incapacitating the three creatures, the men returned to the fire. They retrieved pitchforks and used them to pin the creatures to the ground. Then they took out knives and began carving them up.

  Dan swallowed the bile in his throat. He crawled backwards in the grass, intent on getting back to his companions.

  When Dan returned, Meredith, John, and Tim were waiting for him, wide-eyed and nervous. Ernie whined in Meredith’s lap.

  “Is everything okay?” Meredith hissed. “We heard gunshots. We were about to come after you.”

  “Everything’s fine,” Dan said.

  He narrated what he’d seen, sparing the details for Quinn. In the distance, he could still see a thin trickle of smoke coming from behind the house, and he heard the faint voices of the men. The sky was deep orange. Sunset was approaching.

  “I was thinking about trying to get to their truck,” he said. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Those men are dangerous. We should keep going. Maybe we’ll have better luck at the next house.”

  Meredith glanced at the sky. “I hate to say it, Dan, but I don’t think we’re going to get another chance. This road is pretty desolate. I don’t think we’ll run into another house for a while.”

  “How far until the next property?”

  “A few miles? There aren’t many on this road, from what I remember. We’re in the middle of the country.”

  Dan followed her gaze to the sky, his brow furrowing with concern. He recalled the creatures they’d seen drifting silently through the fields. If they encountered one or more of them in the dark, the outcome wouldn’t be good.

  “What makes you think the keys will be in the truck?” John asked.

  “This isn’t Detroit, John. Lots of people le
ave their keys in their trucks in the country.” Meredith gave a half smile.

  Tim piped up. “Listen, I have a plan. I think I can sneak in there and distract those men if someone wants to check the truck for keys. What do you think?”

  “I think if you have a plan, I’d love to hear it,” Dan said.

  20

  Keller smiled as he wove through the grass, the blades caressing his jeans. He glanced behind him, catching sight of his companions’ silhouettes as they crossed the street. For the first time in over a day, he was free and alone and alive. Each hour within the group was torture. He longed for the ability to express his desires, to break free of the boring social etiquette and the meaningless conversations.

  He’d been stifled for too long already.

  For most of his life, Keller had controlled his urges, striving to fit within society’s framework. His days were spent working meaningless jobs, smiling and kowtowing to his superiors. His nights were his freedom. After a long shift as a groundskeeper or a maintenance worker, he spent the twilight hours hunting, searching for people alone in the park or couples too caught up in each other to notice him. Each time he killed, the cleanup took longer than the encounter, and each one had only incited his hunger and rage.

  But not anymore. The agents had opened the world up to his desires.

  Now that the infection had hit, there was no cleanup, no one to answer to. The only person controlling his urges was Keller. It was time to unleash his desires.

  Keller crawled to the edge of grass and surveyed the men’s backyard. Dan’s description was accurate. The two brothers, Marvin and Jed, were cutting up the infected, separating limbs from bodies, laughing as they worked. It was a ritual he knew well, having done it multiple times himself. Keller wondered if the men had partaken in violence prior to the infection, or if they’d contained themselves until recently.