Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4

by Picott, Camille

  HOURS LATER, I LEAVE the party and make my way back to my room. I have a slight buzz from the beer. Everyone else had one bottle, but I got three—on top of a couple of shots of moonshine that Reed and Johnny have been brewing. I feel happy from the inside out.

  To top everything off, I don’t have watch tonight. Leo took my shift as a birthday present. I might have insomnia, but at least I’ll be warm and comfortable in my own bed.

  Flinging open the door, I switch on the light—and freeze.

  Gone are the Grateful Dead postures, the baskets of stinky boy laundry I never got around to moving, and the cluttered desk of a college kid.

  Every surface area is spotless. The window is open, letting in fresh air. And did someone spray pine air freshener? Where did someone even find pine air freshener?

  Even the stained bedspread is gone, replaced with a graphic quilt. It depicts the silhouette of a howling wolf with a full moon hanging overhead.

  But the part that really takes my breath away is the walls. Covering every square inch—the ceiling, the walls, and even the bulletin board on the back of the desk—are pictures of nature. Trees. Rivers. Waterfalls. Deserts. Hillsides. Wildflowers. Oceans.

  For the first time in months, I feel like I’m back on the trail. Like I’m surrounded by the beauty and serenity I’ve missed so much. A piece of my old life gifted to me.

  Another birthday gift. And I know who it’s from.

  41

  Rooftop

  BEN

  When Ben hears steps on the ladder, he doesn’t turn around. He secretly hopes it’s Kate, though he promised himself not to hold his breath. She’s busy with her party; it’s too much to hope she’d have time to find him up here. Besides, it’s not like he left a card.

  “Hey.”

  Her voice washes over him. He closes his eyes, savoring it.

  He turns and finds her standing there, outlined by the starlight.

  “Did you do that?” she asks. “The pictures? My room?”

  “You told me you missed the trails.”

  She tilts her head at him. He can tell by the way she stands that she’s drunk. Maybe not shitfaced like she’d been at the wake, but there’s a looseness to her limbs and posture that gives it away.

  “When did I tell you that?”

  He wishes he could see her expression, but it’s dark and she’s too far away.

  “The night of the wake. You said you missed the trails.” He sucks in a breath, trying to work up the words he really wants to say. He blurts them out before he has time to second-guess himself. “If there was a way to give you a real trail, I would. Honestly, I thought about it. But I figured I might get myself killed trying to secure a section of the woods for you.” Now he sounds like an idiot. “I’m still useful around this place for a few things so I decided not to risk it.”

  She takes half a dozen steps in his direction, coming close enough that he can now see her face.

  “It’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Ben.”

  “You deserve it.”

  The five paces separating them evaporates. Before he can fully comprehend the disappearance, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him.

  He’s barely let himself dream of this moment. Kate is so far out of his league it’s not even funny. Not to mention that he can be an asshole.

  But here she is, standing under the starlight, kissing him. And even though he knows he’s not good enough for her, he seizes the moment.

  He pulls her close and kisses her back. She feels as good in his arms as he’d imagined. His blood heats as she leans into him, running her hands up his back.

  The words come out all by themselves. “You taste like a bar.”

  The perfect moment fizzles. Kate steps out of the circle of his arms.

  “Really?” She wrinkles her nose at him. “You lead with all that stuff about wanting to build me a trail, then close with You taste like a bar?”

  Give him a gun to point at some bad guys, and Ben knows just what to do. Give him a grenade to lob, and he’s a pretty good shot. Hell, throw some undead at him and he’s more than up to the task of dispatching them.

  Giving him a woman he wants is like to scrambling his brain with a fork. Giving him a woman he’s crazy about is like scrambling his brain with two forks.

  “You did have a few drinks, didn’t you?” he asks.

  “A few, yeah. So did everyone else. You taste like Reed’s cake, by the way.”

  Five steps once again separates them. Ben searches frantically for a way to regain his footing, to overcome the gap that always seems to hang between them.

  His brain completely fails him.

  Kate’s shoulders sag. She presses her face into her hands.

  “I shouldn’t have come up here. I might be drunk, but I’m not that drunk. Whatever this weirdness is between us, it’s a mistake.”

  “I like the weirdness.” Fuck. Could anything more asinine have come out of his mouth? “I like you, Kate.”

  “I like you, too, Ben. I don’t know why, but I do.” She shakes her head. “But we’re not stupid teenagers. We’re both adults. We’re both smart enough to know this won’t go anywhere. We’re too different to ever be a real couple.”

  Then she’s gone.

  The rooftop is empty, deserted. He wishes he could rewind it all and try again.

  Ben stares at the space where she stood. The emptiness sucks him in.

  Before he realizes what’s happening, he’s standing in the courtyard of College Creek surrounded by the helpless kids gunned down by Johnson and his lackeys. The scene swirls, spitting him out in the baking heat of Pakistan, where he kneels beside the cot of a dying comrade.

  And, finally, he finds himself at the bedside of his newborn son, Sam. Signing over full custody to the woman he’d had a fling with for a few weeks while on leave. The remembered pain of that day staggers him.

  More than anything, he’d wanted to be a part of his little boy’s life. And he had been, in a way, for a few weeks every year whenever he was on leave. But Sam’s stepfather had been much more of a father than Ben had ever been. It had all been for the best. Ben wasn’t cut out to be a husband any more than he was cut out to be a father.

  He reels, heart pounding as he yanks himself free of the flashbacks. Leaning over his knees, he takes in big gulps of air.

  Tonight was all for the best, he tells himself. He’d have messed things up with Kate sooner or later. Better sooner and just get it over with.

  He doesn’t regret the gift for her. Not for a second. He wanted to do it for her. And it feels good to know his feelings for her aren’t one-sided. That’s tonight’s consolation prize, his takeaway from the disaster.

  He tries to be okay with it. He tries really, really hard.

  42

  Missed Call

  BEN

  Ben paces on the rooftop, scanning the university campus with his binoculars. It’s been exactly one week since he fucked things up with Kate. His insomnia is at an all-time high.

  He and Kate co-exist like they always have. They seem to have mutually agreed to pretend the kiss never happened.

  Except Ben can’t pretend it didn’t happen. It’s all he can think about. He wants to ask for a do-over, but hasn’t the first clue how to go about doing that.

  “What are you looking for?” Johnny asks. It’s his turn on watch, meaning he has to stick around even if Ben is feeling paranoid and decided to join him.

  “I don’t know,” Ben replies.

  He’s been fighting the itch for days. It has nothing to do with Kate. It’s not the normal kind of itching from a mosquito bite, either. It’s a buzzing in his gut, a sense that something in the world isn’t right.

  A lifetime in the army has honed his instincts. He’s had enough bad luck to recognize when it’s looming around the corner.

  What pisses him off is that even when he knows shit is about to go down, it often doesn’t do him a damn bit of
good.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Johnny asks. He has his notebook open on his lap. How the kid can watch anything while he scribbles away in that thing is beyond Ben.

  “I have a feeling.” Ben pauses, watching a group of eight zombies stumble their way through campus. He makes a mental note to tell Kate. A team should go out to dispatch them later today.

  “Like, a bad feeling?” Johnny asks. “Like, a sixth sense?”

  Ben lowers the binos with an exasperated grumble. “Exactly.” He resents the kid for his eloquence.

  Johnny scribbles something in his notebook. “Tell me what it feels like.”

  “No.” Ben returns the binos to his face, sweeping the fortifications around Creekside.

  “Come on,” Johnny wheedles. “This is for posterity. You know I’m recording our life here at Creekside. Tell me what premonition feels like.”

  Ben rounds on him. “It feels like shit is going to hit the fan and I don’t know how to stop it.” He glares. “It sucks balls, kid.”

  Johnny grins at him. “I’m going to quote you on that.”

  Letting out another huff of disgust, Ben tosses aside the binoculars and heads down the ladder. He knows better than to open his mouth around that kid.

  “Bring up some dinner for me,” Johnny calls after him. “I hate cold food.”

  Ben ignores him even as he makes a mental note to get food for Johnny. He stomps into the common room. It’s bustling with eighteen bodies, two of which happen to be kids who decided this crowded room was a great place to play tag.

  Ben stands in the doorway, mouth twisting with distaste. It’s time to knock down some walls and make this dorm suite a genuine gathering space. It’s getting too damned cramped for his taste these days. He’ll talk to Kate and see about putting together a team to execute the remodel. It will be a good excuse to talk to her.

  He finds Kate sitting at the kitchen table, chewing at her bottom lip as she fiddles with the receiver of the ham. At the look on her face, Ben feels his hackles rise.

  Things might have regressed to a strictly professional level with them, but hell if he’s going to stand by and say nothing if she looks worried about something. Besides, the anxiety in his gut is expanding, making him even more edgy.

  “What’s going on?” he barks, coming to stand beside the table. A few people glance up at his sharp tone. Ben realizes he’s switched into his military voice. “I didn’t mean to talk like a drill sergeant,” he says, attempting with moderate success to modify his tone.

  Kate looks up with a wrinkled brow. “It’s Alvarez. He missed our regular check-in three days ago. He was supposed to check in this morning ...” Her voice trails off. “I’m just worried. That’s two missed check-ins.”

  “It’s not the first time he’s missed a call,” Carter points out, pulling out a chair to sit beside his mother. “Stuff happens. I’m sure he’ll be in touch as soon as he can.”

  Kate continues to worry at her bottom lip. “I just have a bad feeling, you know?”

  “That makes two of us,” Ben mutters, turning away. His voice is lost in the general hum around them as Gary comes in off the balcony with a fresh pot of spaghetti, the sauce made from the first harvest of Lila’s tomatoes in the garden.

  That night, sleep is impossible. His room feels cramped and stuffy. Between the itchy foreboding gnawing at him from the inside and endless thoughts of Kate, his head might explode.

  He goes to the common room to get some water. Not that water will help him sleep, but he could use the distraction. He’s just grabbed a cup when the ham radio crackles with sound.

  “Mama Bear, this is Foot Soldier. Fort Ross to Humboldt. Is anyone there? Over?”

  Ben jerks, knocking the ham receiver to the floor in his haste. Fumbling it into his hand, he answers.

  “Fort Ross, this is Humboldt. Where the hell have you guys been? You have Mama Bear worried sick. Over.”

  A beat of silence. “Who is this?”

  Ben wracks his brain for a call sign. He’s never spoken to Alvarez on the ham before. He says the first name that comes to mind. “This is Word Smith. I live with Mama Bear and Wandering Writer.”

  Word Smith? Where the fuck did that name come from? He’s the last person who should be using that call sign.

  “We’ve been waiting for your call,” he says.

  “Good to hear your voice, Word Smith. Shit has gone sideways at Fort Ross. We’re under siege.”

  “What’s the sit rep?” Kate mentioned Alvarez had a military background.

  “Word Smith, are you military? Over.”

  “That’s affirmative. Thirty years of service. Over.”

  “Thank fucking god. Maybe you can help us. Can you get Mama Bear? I don’t want to tell this story twice. Over.”

  “Affirmative. Back in three. Over.”

  43

  Siege

  BEN

  As he rushes away to get Kate, his premonition kicks into high gear. This is the shoe drop he’s been expecting. Whatever Alvarez is about to tell them, it’s not going to be good.

  A short time later, the entire Creekside crew, minus the children, is gathered around the ham radio. It had taken only minutes to wake everyone.

  “Foot Soldier, this is Word Smith. Over.”

  Several heads swivel in his direction, Kate’s the first among them. Ben feels his face heat and keeps his eyes locked on the ham. Why the fuck had that handle popped into his head?

  “Word Smith, this is Foot Soldier. Everyone there?”

  Kate takes the receiver from Ben. “Foot Soldier? This is Mama Bear. We’re all here. What’s your status? Over.”

  “Not good, Mama Bear. We’re fucked. Over.”

  “That is not a detailed report of the situation,” Kate grinds out. “Details, Foot Soldier. Right now. Over.”

  “Remember those bandits I told you about? The ones who kidnapped our people?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re back, only there’s more of them. It started with raids on the perimeter of our land. The livestock. The horses. The orchard. The fish we left out to dry. Then a few of our people disappeared.”

  Ben feels his temper start to boil. He grips the edge of the table, fighting against the flashback that tries to force itself to the forefront.

  “We formed search parties. More of our people disappeared,” Alvarez says. “Then over two dozen people on bicycles were spotted north of Fort Ross on Highway One. They were heavily armed and heading straight for us. We secured the fort just before the bandits arrived.”

  Kate’s knuckles are white around the receiver. “What’s your situation now?” she asks.

  “Mr. Rosario, the bandit leader, wants Fort Ross.”

  At the mention of the name Mr. Rosario, Kate’s entire body stills. Ben’s hackles go up at the sudden rage that paints her face. He doesn’t know who this Mr. Rosario is, but Kate’s reaction is enough to make him want to start shooting something.

  “It gets worse,” Alvarez says. “Rosario has seven of my people. She’s given us twenty-four hours to surrender. After that, she’ll execute one of them every day she has to wait.”

  Seconds tick by. Kate visibly wrestles with her anger, jaw clenched so hard Ben can hear her teeth grind.

  “Twenty-four hours?” Kate barks. “When did the clock start ticking?”

  “Twenty-seven minutes ago.”

  Kate leans over the table, her face a set mask of determination. “I’m coming, Foot Soldier. Hold on. I’ll be there. Over and out.” She slams the receiver down on the table, glaring at everyone and nothing. “Will someone please tell me why that crazy bitch is named Mr. Rosario?” she shouts, lifting her eyes to the ceiling as though the answer might drop from the sky.

  The room stills, everyone frozen by this uncharacteristic display of anger.

  Reed tentatively raises a hand in the air. “Mama?”

  “What?” Kate snaps.

  “I know the story of Mr. Ros
ario.”

  “Tell me.” She attempts to rein in her fury and completely fails.

  “Mr. Rosario was the original drug lord of northern California. When his wife caught him cheating, she cut off his balls and locked him in a shed in the woods and left him there until he starved to death. His wife took on his name and took over his business. The story is that she set up a compound around the shed where he died. She runs all her operations from there.”

  Hands on her hips, Kate glares. Not at Reed, but past him, like she’s seeing a memory she’d rather forget. Ben can relate to that.

  Then she stalks out of the room, leaving everyone sitting there in stunned silence.

  Ben is the first one to move. Kate isn’t going anywhere without him. He charges out the door after her, Carter and Jenna right on his heels.

  Kate is inside her room, shoving supplies into a running pack.

  “Mom?” Carter pokes his head around the doorframe. Ben and Jenna hang back behind him. “You can’t do this.”

  “My friend is in trouble,” she replies, not looking up. “I’m going to help him.”

  “Did you hear the part about Fort Ross being surrounded and outgunned by a band of raiders?” Carter says. “You can’t go.”

  Kate spins on him. “You know what that bitch did to me and Frederico. She captured us. She chained a collar of bells around our necks and pushed us out into a forest infested with zombies. We almost died trying to get away. She did it for her own entertainment.”

  Ben sees red. The mental image of Kate with a collar of bells around her neck makes him want to strangle something.

  “I’m going with you,” he says.

  Kate flicks a glance at him, nods, then goes back to shoving supplies into her pack. “This will be a volunteer mission only.”

  “Um, Fort Ross is two hundred miles away,” Jenna says. “It’s not safe to drive. You saw what happened when Leo and his people tried to drive.”

  “You’re a badass, Mom, but even you can’t run that far in twenty-four hours.”

  Kate straightens, flinging her pack over her shoulders and snapping it into place. “I’m not going to run. I’m taking the boat.” She marches past them and into the bathroom, filling her pack bladder with boiled water kept in jugs on the floor.