Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4

by Picott, Camille

  The zombies hear us. I see it in the way every head turns in our direction.

  Arms reach for us. Keening rises up among the pack. They pick up the pace, lumbering toward us. I grit my teeth and pour on a burst of speed.

  This is for Carter. For Jenna. For Johnny. For Lila. For Eric. For Caleb. For Ash. For Jesus.

  My kids. My family.

  Ben smacks straight into the first of the undead who reaches us. He shoves the zombie so hard the thing is pitched ten feet across the ground. It careens into several of its fellows, knocking them all to the street.

  Two more reach us, the others gaining speed behind them.

  There isn’t time to fight. If we stop, we’ll get swarmed.

  I follow Ben’s lead and body slam straight into the nearest one, knocking it to the ground. I leap over it just as Ben shoves another one away. We rip free of the gathering crowd and keep running.

  By now, the entire pack is aware of our presence. We have to outrun them. It’s our only chance. With the alpha out of the picture, we have a chance at losing them.

  We sprint out of the plaza, the pack keening behind us as they follow. More keening goes up from nearby streets, making me sick with fear and anxiety. There’s so many of them it’s impossible to tell if there’s an alpha among them.

  I’m grateful for the many hours spent running up and down the bleacher steps. I’m grateful for the god-awful, two-hour sets of wind sprint I made everyone do. I’m glad for every drop of sweat I dropped on the track in the past six months. It’s the only thing keeping us alive right now.

  As we charge into an intersection, another milling pack of zombies stumbles in our direction. We hurtle past them.

  One snags my sleeve as I race by. I yelp, spinning around to yank myself free.

  Ben is there a flash, stabbing his knife through the monster’s head. He rips me loose, pushing me away.

  “Go!” he snaps.

  Two zombies stumble into him, latching onto him with clawed hands.

  No fucking way is this man going to die on my watch. I grab a weapon in each hand and leap into the fray.

  One knife slams through the cheek of a young teenage girl. My zom bat finds the temple of the second zombie, a man in a tracksuit. Ben kicks a third zombie as it reaches us, his foot connecting with enough force to crumple its nose and face.

  Our attack leaves three bodies on the ground. We jump back as another four undead reach us. They trip on the bodies and go down.

  It’s the opening we need. Ben and I break free and keep running.

  North and east. North and east. We zigzag through the streets, detouring when we must, but always pushing farther north and east, back to Creekside.

  It feels like hours, but in truth, it can’t be more than twenty minutes.

  As last we reach the overpass that connects Humboldt University to the rest of Arcata.

  “About fucking time,” Ben wheezes. The side and back of his chef’s coat are stained with blood. His close-cropped hair gleams with sweat. His face and neck bead with perspiration.

  “Thank God,” I gasp.

  As we race onto the overpass, my stomach drops as I get a clear look at Highway 101 beneath us.

  The wide earthen trench that houses the four-lane freeway is crammed with new zombies. The bodies we dropped over the side while clearing the campus, combined with the maze of abandoned cars and zombies already living there, has turned the road below us into a labyrinth.

  The passage of the motorcycles and cars from Eureka has slowed to a near crawl due to the obstacles in the road. I see kids and families in the vehicles. My heart aches at the sight. They’re going to be obliterated, pulverized between the horde behind them and the wreckage in front of them.

  The zoms bear down inexorably, gaining on the poor people. The swath following them spreads east and west on either side of the freeway, the monsters stomping over and through whatever is in their path.

  To my horror, several of the cars and motorcycles break away from the freeway. They veer east, taking the off-ramp that leads straight to Humboldt University. They roar past us and onto campus, punching the accelerators.

  Two of the maelstroms remain focused on the vehicles struggling to make their way north on the freeway. But the third maelstrom shifts its trajectory. The zoms around the easternmost alpha surge toward the off-ramp. There are hundreds upon hundreds of them.

  They’re headed straight for campus.

  And that’s not the worst of it. When I first saw the horde advancing from Eureka, I’d seen three distinct groups led by alphas. But now I see other small whorls of zombies, signifying smaller groups within the three main forces. Like platoons in a company

  I freeze, mouth hanging open in horror as I take it all in. It’s even worse than I imagined. The campus is going to drown in zombies.

  “Explosives,” Ben growls. “We need some goddamn C-4 and rocket launchers right fucking now.”

  We turn and keep running.

  19

  Arm

  BEN

  “We have to blow College Creek.” He sucks in air, his rib cage aching from the exertion of their mad sprint through Arcata. “Those buildings already form a defensive perimeter at the front of the school. Blowing them will deflect the frontal assault.”

  Kate pants beside him as she hauls ass up Granite Avenue toward Creekside. Her cheeks are stained pink, her eyes wild.

  “We need to take out the alphas.”

  “That won’t be enough. Even if we can get to high ground to sniper the things, the rest of the horde will already be on campus.”

  “We still need to get rid of the alphas. We stand a better chance if the zoms aren’t organized.”

  “You’re right.” Ben’s mind races. “Eric. He’s a crack shot. He can sight them from the rec center.” That’s near the College Creek dorms. From the top floor, he’ll have a clear shot at the oncoming horde.

  “Blowing College Creek won’t keep them all out,” Kate huffs. It’s one the few times Ben has heard her out of breath while running. “They’ll be able to go around.”

  “Not if we blow it right. If we can block everything on the southwest, they’ll walk right off the ledge and fall to the freeway below. They’ll be drawn in that direction anyway. That’s where all the noise will be once the dust settles.” The east side was another problem altogether.

  Kate voices his thoughts. “And the east side?” she demands. “What if some of them get through on that side?”

  He hates not having answers. It’s like being back in Somalia, when he and his guys found themselves ambushed. The fucking feeling of being trapped is almost enough to make him lose his shit. His fear of something happening to Kate helps him hold it together.

  “We improvise,” he says. “It’s a shitty answer, but it’s all I got.”

  “Okay.” Her mouth is set in a determined line. “I don’t have any better ideas. We go with your plan. You know it’s crazy, right?”

  The queen of crazy wanted to call him out? Half a dozen retorts came to mind, but he doesn’t have any breath to voice them.

  The stitch in his side has grown to epic proportions. His waist feels like a ring of fire from the chafing. The cut in his back hurts like a motherfucker. He ignores it all, nostrils flaring at the pain.

  Somewhere behind them, he hears a car crash, followed by a scream. Seconds later is the sound of another crash.

  That’s two fuck heads down. Now if only there was a way to get rid of the rest of the fuckers who brought hell to their doorstep.

  The door to Creekside is thrown open as they race up. Carter, Jenna, and Reed crowd the doorway. Ben and Kate barrel past them, both of them shouting as soon as they’re inside Creekside.

  “Explosives!” Kate calls.

  “We need some grenades right fucking now!” Ben bellows.

  Jenna, Carter, and Reed surge around Kate. They attempt to hug her and ask questions at the same time.

  “Mom, are you okay?�
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  “We were so worried,” Jenna adds. “What—”

  “What do you mean we need grenades?” Reed asks.

  Kate shouts over the talking, silencing them with her intensity. “Zombie horde,” she snaps. “Coming our way. Alphas.”

  “We’re under siege.” Ben races for the stairwell, heading up to the armory on the second floor. He shouts as he runs, hoping his voice will carry and alert the rest. “Everyone arm!”

  Kate, Carter, Jenna, and Reed tear up the stairs after them. They plunge into the dorm suite they converted into the armory.

  “Under siege!” Ben shouts again, his gruff voice booming up and down the hall. “Everyone arm!”

  The rest of the crew bursts into the armory. Everyone tries to ask questions. Johnny is there, ready to join the fight despite his injured Achilles. Even Susan is there, the young woman from the charter boat wanting to help.

  Caleb and Ash take in the situation and begin arming themselves without question.

  “We heard something from the rooftop,” Ash says. “We didn’t have any visuals.”

  “Zombie swarm from Eureka.” Kate grabs a rocket launcher and swings it over one shoulder. “Coming right for us. Hundreds of them. Everyone, grab explosives.”

  This is all it takes to get the rest of the group to shut up. Within seconds, everyone is arming themselves.

  Despite everything going on around them, Ben can’t help but admire Kate. Any drill sergeant would be impressed with the way she wrangles this group.

  “Eric, grab a rifle,” Kate says. “You’re on sniper duty in the rec center. Everyone else, grab everything you can carry and haul ass downstairs to Skip. Ben will explain the plan while we drive. Carter, you’re driving us to College Creek.”

  It’s a testament to Kate’s skills as a leader that she’s made the decision to use a vehicle. For her, caution is always paramount. Moving silently and safely has, up until now, been more important than moving fast.

  Ben sees that she is rapidly adjusting to the new paradigm of the alphas, dropping old rules and adopting new ones on the fly. Just like she had in Arcata when she made him shoot the alpha in the plaza. Flexible and adaptable. That’s Kate.

  She leads their group at a dead run back down the stairs. As they leave Creekside behind, Ben glances back. Framed in the doorway, her face wan with fear, is Lila. She watches them go, looking small and lost.

  Her vulnerability makes something inside him harden. He has to protect her. He has to protect them all.

  Skip is a beat-up Dodge Caravan that Carter and Jenna purchased before the apocalypse. Ben has a vague understanding of some beer company the two planned to start, though how a shitty van is tied to a brewing company is beyond him.

  Except for the driver’s and passenger’s seats, all the others have been removed. This should make it easier for them to pile in. Except that no less than six beer kegs take up the right side of the van and there isn’t time to take them out. Ben finds himself squashed against the back of the passenger’s seat next to Caleb.

  “Yo, did you guys ever play that game when you were teenagers to see how many friends you could cram in a car?” Reed asks. “My brother and I fit eight people into a Volkswagon Bug.”

  “Thank God this isn’t a Mini Coop,” Ben growls. It’s bad enough having Caleb’s left ass cheek on his thigh.

  “Everyone in?” Carter shouts as he leaps into the driver’s seat. Jenna climbs in next to him.

  “Go!” Kate tells him, slamming shut the side door.

  Carter fires up the engine and throws the car into drive. Ben finds himself flung forward. He sprawls on top of Caleb as Skip makes a hard left. Johnny squawks as he lands on top of Ben.

  “Ben, we need the details of the plan,” Kate says.

  “Four teams,” Ben barks, attempting to right himself as Carter hauls ass around Creekside and out into the parking lot. “Eric, you’re on sniper duty in the rec center. Jesus, you’re with Eric. You watch his back while he takes out the alphas. It’s imperative the alphas are taken down.

  “Caleb, Ash, and I lead three teams to plant the C-4 while the rest of you cover us. Kate and Reed, you’re with me.”

  Assigning Kate to his team is selfish, but he can’t protect her if she isn’t near. He might die today, but he’s going to do his damnedest to make sure she lives.

  “Susan and Johnny, you cover Ash,” he continues. “Jenna, you’re with Caleb. Caleb’s team takes out the east building. Ash’s team takes center. My team takes out the west building. Concentrate your explosives on the west side of the buildings. We bring them down and create a path that takes the zoms away from campus and down onto the freeway.”

  “What about me?” Carter asks.

  “You stay with the van,” Ben replies. “Keep it running and keep it away from the horde. If things go to shit, we fall back to Skip and try to outrun them.”

  The look Kate gives him is anguished. They both know that if they can’t divert the swarm, their chance of survival is slim to none. It’s slim to none now. The horde is too big, too all-encompassing. The noise of the van will bring them down like wildfire. Attempting to run with so many hundreds out there will be equally disastrous.

  They have one shot at this. They’ll make their stand at College Creek. They’ll either live, or die.

  As Carter hits a curb and sends the van into a state of airborne, Ben experiences a moment of calm. Even with Caleb’s ass currently in his ribcage, he has a clear view of Kate. Her eyes are fierce, her jaw set. She’s drenched in sweat and grime and looks like she’s ready to take on the entire swarm singlehandedly. It’s the most arresting sight he’s ever seen.

  If he dies today, he’ll carry the memory of her ferocity into the afterlife.

  20

  Stand

  KATE

  The van tears past the Depot, the only place on campus that sold beer before the apocalypse. Steely determination sweeps through me. I take a good look at my apocalypse family, giving myself ten seconds to focus on how much I care about each and every one of them.

  Carter. Jenna. Reed. Eric. Johnny. Jesus. Ash. Caleb. Ben. And Lila. These ten people are my reason for living.

  “Listen up.” I pitch my voice loud enough to fill the cramped interior. “We can do this. This isn’t the hardest or the scariest thing we’ve come up against. It’s just another obstacle to get past. When you see the swarm, just give them a big fuck you and blast them to hell. You got it?”

  “Fuck you, zombies!” Reed shouts.

  “Fuck the undead, Mamita!” Jesus adds.

  Within seconds, everyone is yelling and fist pounding the air. Jenna turns back and gives me a wild-eyed grin before adding her scream to the mix. Carter beats his fist on the steering wheel even as he swerves around several undead that lumber toward the car. Ben wears a wild grimace as he bellows fuck you at the top of his lungs.

  Carter whips the van around an abandoned car and skids to a halt outside College Creek.

  My chest seizes.

  We’re too late.

  The thought pings around my head as I gape out the window.

  Dozens of undead spill forth around the dorms, hands outstretched as they beeline for the humming engine of the minivan. It’s a beacon in their blindness.

  And they just keep coming. Leading them is one of the alphas, a teenage girl with dark hair and a Victoria’s Secret sweatshirt. Tight clumps of zombies cluster at the heels of the alpha.

  “Everyone out!” Carter cries. “I’ll lead them away.”

  There’s no time to argue. No time to debate. There is only time for action.

  In under sixty seconds, we’ve emptied out of the van. I fall into step beside Ben and Reed. Ben leads the way, charging toward the dorm buildings on the western-most side.

  He hugs a box of C-4 to his chest. The giant rocket launcher—which I’ve never fired—bounces against my back. It feels strange to have a knife and a screwdriver in either hand with an enormous gun on my back.


  Music blares, stinging my ears with its intensity. Carter blasts a loud rap song. Keens pepper the air. Every zombie stumbles toward him, white eyes reflecting the morning sun. I spot the teenage alpha with zombies frothing around her as she leads them toward Carter.

  Everything inside me screams to go back to Carter, to protect him. This basic motherly instinct beats at me. I ignore it, knowing the best way to protect Carter is to stick with the plan. Reed and I have to cover Ben and take out the western-most building.

  With one last look back in my son’s direction, I turn to my task.

  I run in a tight cluster with Ben and Reed. We dodge around a pack of zombies, bee-lining to our assigned building. With the music blaring from Skip, the zoms stumble past us without turning in our direction.

  Ben crouches in the lee of an abandoned dorm with a piece of C-4 in hand. He smacks it in place and races to the next section of wall.

  “Don’t you need wires or a detonator?” I leap forward to block two zombies that stray in his direction. My screwdriver takes one through the ear. Reed slams his knife in the skull of the second.

  “This shit will blow to high heaven when we shoot off the rocket launchers,” Ben replies. “We just need to plant it.”

  More and more zombies pour around the sides of the building. I can’t see Carter anymore, but music continues to pelt the air.

  “Mama,” Reed yells.

  I spin around as three zombies reach us. One reaches for Ben, jagged fingernails pricking his scalp.

  I tackle the thing to the ground. My screwdriver punches through his skull. I roll sideways as a second zombie swipes at me. It trips on the dead one and tumbles forward.

  Reed is there. He stabs the creature and shoves it aside. I spring to my feet, wiping blood from my face with the back of my hand.

  I freeze as a pack of five lumber by, following the sound of the rap music from Carter. I swallow my breath, struggling not to rasp. The zombies moan and growl, but continue past us without ever turning in our direction.