Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4

by Picott, Camille

  Even though my chest is cramped from harsh breathing, I bark a laugh. The guys join me, their amusement brief and sharp.

  “Hopefully we’ll live to tell the story to the guys back at Creekside,” Reed says.

  That sobers the moment. Worry for Ben, Eric, and Ash crashes back in. I lean into the sprint, pushing as hard as I can. The boys keep pace with me.

  Thirty minutes later, Wild Thing looms into view. The pack of zombies we led here are massed around the semi.

  “That’s going to be an issue,” Alvarez says. “How are we supposed to get to the semi?”

  “Just wait,” Reed says. “Mama Bear has a surprise.”

  “Does this have to do with the alpha language you alluded to?” Alvarez asks.

  “Yeah. Remember how I told you we were studying alpha zoms? Watch this.” I pull out the recorder, unwrapping it from the plastic baggie. “I’ll take care of the zombies. As soon as there’s an opening, get to the semi and open the trailer. Get the ramp in place.”

  Alvarez shakes his head at me in disbelief. “Aye, aye, Mama Bear. This had better work or we’re all zombie meat.”

  I hit play. The clicks and keens of the alpha roll out of the speaker.

  The reaction of the zombies in instantaneous. They snap around in eerie unison, pivoting in my direction. They totter toward me, moaning and scratching at the air as they unwind from around the semi like a spool.

  “Holy fucking shit,” Alvarez mutters. He dashes away, following Caleb and Reed as they circle wide around the semi. They head for the newly formed opening.

  I grit my teeth, never taking my eyes from the horde advancing on me. I draw them away from Wild Thing.

  The recording comes to an end. My fingers dance over the buttons, hitting rewind, stop, and play in rapid succession. The clicks and keens play a second time, drawing the zombies farther away from the semi.

  A single zombie lurches sideways, away from the rest of the horde. It cocks its head in my direction before letting out a long string of clicks.

  Shit. Another alpha. I could use Johnny and his air gun right now.

  Rewind, stop, play.

  The horde never stops advancing. Over their heads, I see Caleb, Reed, and Alvarez make a dash for the semi. Caleb snatches the keys stashed on the front wheel. The three young men haul ass to the back of the trailer, unlocking the door and getting the ramp in place.

  Many of the zombies twitch at the noise made by the boys, but the alpha recording overrides their instinct to move toward noise. As soon as the ramp is in place, Caleb hauls ass back to the cab and jumps inside. Reed and Alvarez scramble first onto the hood of the cab, and then onto the top of the trailer.

  The alpha comes in my direction, still clicking. I keep my eyes on it, hoping it won’t choose to issue a conflicting order. Reed and Alvarez pull out their guns, looking to me for permission. I shake my head. The alpha hasn’t yet done anything to jeopardize the mission. I don’t want to rile up the horde with gunfire if I don’t have to.

  The alpha continues to move in my direction, head cocked and listening. It looks eerily self-aware.

  I make a hard left, putting several dozen regular zoms between me and the alpha. It’s comforting to know Reed and Alvarez can shoot if necessary.

  Rewind, stop, play.

  “Come to Mama Bear,” I whisper.

  Rewind, stop, play.

  The alpha suddenly lets up a long ululating keen, followed by a string of clicks. The sound sends cold shivers across my shoulder blades. The zombies begin to rotate away from me and in the direction of the real alpha. The alpha has turned toward the semi, nose lifted and scenting the air. Shit. Can it smell Reed and Alvarez?

  I can’t risk it. Johnny said that getting rid of the alphas was the best way to maintain control of the herd. The monster is on the very edge of the horde. I make a hard left, sprinting straight at the alpha. I raise my knife.

  I see the moment when the alpha registers the threat. It lets out a long hiss, pivoting to face me.

  I spring forward and strike. Hands encrusted with dried blood reach for me, pawing at my clothes.

  My knife punches through its skull. The alpha lets out one last hiss before dropping at my feet in a puddle.

  Just as it falls, two more zombies close in and reach for me. I stumble back.

  Gunfire cracks. The two zombies fall. Shit. I’d hoped to dispatch the alpha silently.

  The gunfire acts like a fire accelerant. The zoms instantly switch into feral mode. Growls and hisses run through their ranks as they turn back in the direction of the semi.

  “Move, Kate,” Alvarez calls. He and Reed keep their weapons trained on the zoms.

  I don’t need to be told twice. I cut an arc around the zombies and sprint for the semi. Instead of getting inside the cab with Caleb, I climb onto the trailer with Reed and Alvarez.

  “Are we going to Pied Piper the zoms all the way to Fort Ross?” Alvarez asks.

  I shake my head. “That will take too long. We get as many as we can into the back of the semi. Then we ram the shit out of Fort Ross and set them loose.”

  “This doesn’t feel right.” Alvarez’s face is somber as he joins me in the back of the semi. “I agree we don’t have a better plan, but ...”

  I squeeze his hand. “We’ll use the zombies just long enough to overwhelm Rosario’s people. Once we have them subdued, I’ll drive them out of the fort with the alpha recording.”

  The plan is loose at best. We all know it. But with nothing else at our disposal, it’s our only option.

  Drawn by the earlier gunshots, the zombies have already started back in the direction of the semi. I pull out the recorder and position myself over the open trailer door.

  Reed grimaces at me. “We’re about to load up with passengers from hell.”

  I hit play. The alpha recording rolls across the road. It may not project like an old-fashioned boom box, but it’s enough to get the attention of the zombies.

  The reaction is instantaneous. Moans ripple among the ranks. Many of them begin loping toward the semi.

  “Holy fuck,” Alvarez breathes. “I’m glad we’re on top of a semi.” He raises his gun, watching the approaching mass.

  When the recording ends, the zombies slow, many of them turning in small circles as though searching for their leader.

  Rewind, stop, play.

  As soon as the recording begins playing again, they resume their forward lope.

  In less than three minutes, the first zom reaches the semi. A dozen of them totter up the metal ramp into the truck bed. Another half dozen miss the ramp completely and bump up against the side of the trailer.

  “No one ever said rounding up zombies was an exact science,” I mutter.

  Rewind, stop, play.

  I continue to lure the zombies into the trailer. Impatience thrums in my chest. No one ever said a zombie round up could be accomplished in thirty seconds, either.

  “There’s another alpha.” Alvarez takes aim at a middle-aged zombie in a green jacket.

  Sure enough, the zom clicks and keens its way down the road. It hadn’t been with the main pack a few minutes ago. It must have been somewhere nearby and come when it heard the commotion. A thick knot of zombies follows in its wake.

  Alvarez takes his time, waiting until the alpha is fifty yards away. His shot echoes in my eardrums.

  The alpha falls. The zombies clustered around it scratch at the air in confusion.

  “Come on,” I murmur. “You have a new alpha now.”

  Their heads cock. Slowly, they turn in my direction.

  “That’s right,” I say. “Come on, assholes.”

  Another group of zoms reaches us. Another dozen of them ambles into the semi-trailer. Another half dozen scratch at the outside of the truck in confusion, trying to figure out how to get inside.

  Play, stop, rewind.

  Play, stop, rewind.

  In twenty minutes, we have at least fifty zombies inside the semi-trailer
. We haven’t seen another alpha.

  “Time to go,” I say. Fifty zoms are more than enough for our purposes.

  “I hope you have a plan for getting the door closed from up here,” Reed says. “I’m not going down there.” He waves his gun in a downward direction, taking in the large group of zoms that’s clustered outside of the semi-trailer.

  “We aren’t shutting the doors,” I reply. “We can’t waste time getting them back open when we hit Fort Ross. We need instant pandemonium.”

  I gauge Alvarez’s reaction to this. He shakes his head but doesn’t argue with me. I can tell from his clenched jaw that he knows my plan is as good as it’s going to get.

  Reed wrinkles his brow at me. “You’re cooking up one scary recipe, Mama.”

  “I know. Come on.”

  We hurry back to the cab. Half a dozen zombies have surrounded it. Their broken nails scratch against the paint. I don’t want to risk any of them getting caught in the wheels when we drive away from here.

  I slide over the windshield, drawing my zom bat. “Come here, assholes,” I call.

  The small contingent of them growls at the sound of my voice, moving in my direction.

  Reed and Alvarez slide down beside me, also armed with knives.

  “Here, zombie-zombie-zombie,” Reed chants.

  “Come and get it,” Alvarez growls.

  We quickly dispatch them, then climb into the cab with Caleb.

  “Fire it up,” I tell him.

  “But the doors in the back are still open,” Caleb protests. “And the ramp is still down.”

  I shrug. “We’re not risking our lives to go back there and button everything up. Drive.”

  “But—”

  “Do you know how to drive this thing or not?” I ask.

  Caleb grimaces. “Sort of.” He turns the key, letting the big rig hum to life.

  Sort of. Well, that’s more than I can say. My mouth tightens as I look down the road to Fort Ross. I slide the tape player into the back kangaroo pocket of my pack where it can be easily accessed.

  “Get us the hell out of here, Caleb.”

  The semi lurches down the road. I glance in the sideview mirror and see a few zombies tumble out. The metal ramp shrieks loudly as it’s dragged over the pavement. Then unattached at the back, it falls to the ground with a bang.

  “Instant pandemonium, here we come,” Reed says.

  “God help us,” Alvarez says.

  33

  Endure

  JESSICA

  Steph.

  A wail of grief breaks out of me as I watch a zombie sink its teeth into the immobile flesh of her arm.

  Steph.

  What happened to her? Someone shot her, yes, but that’s not what grabs my attention.

  Her clothes have been ripped. Her jeans are down around her knees.

  Someone tried to rape her. I know this instantly. One of Rosario’s fucking assholes tried to rape her. My compliance hadn’t been enough to protect her.

  And now they intend to hurt Bella. I watch as she’s dragged into a nearby RV and thrown inside.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  No man is going to lay a finger on that girl.

  And the rest of those assholes are not going to hunt Alvarez down like an animal. Not on my watch. I don’t care who I have to kill to save him.

  Time for Fort Ross to burn.

  I have no plan beyond fire. It’s my primary weapon and I have every intention of using it.

  Fingers shaking, I dump the contents of the fire-starting box onto the passenger seat. It’s covered with a dirty lambskin seat cover. It should go up like a torch.

  I fumble with the matches. My hands shake with fury and I drop half of them in my haste.

  The door to the RV rattles. What the fuck? Don’t they have enough entertainment?

  I have just enough time to shove the box under the front seat when Joe Dirt climbs inside.

  “It’s your lucky day, girlie. I helped capture those prisoners out there. Mr. Rosario has given me some time off. I have all day.”

  The way he drawls those last two words is a promise of slow torture. I resist the urge to back away like a cornered animal.

  Alvarez. Steph. Bella. I repeat their names in my head like a mantra. They anchor my feet in place and help me hang onto my sanity. My timing has to be perfect. I’m only going to have one chance at this.

  My door opens a second time. Another man steps inside. I name him Bad Teeth. This one hasn’t been to see me yet. He scowls at Joe Dirt.

  “What the fuck? You had your turn yesterday.”

  “So what?” Joe Dirt shoots back. “I got here first.”

  “Well, hurry the fuck up. One of those bitches in the kitchen found some enchilada sauce. She’s making stewed chicken.”

  “I’ll take my sweet time and you can wait your fucking turn.”

  I resist the urge to attack both these assholes with my bare hands. I want to scratch off their faces and rip out their hearts. Adrenaline beats so hard in my temples that I’m half convinced I can do it.

  But two against one has never been good odds, even if I do have righteous fury on my side. I have one shot to scorch every last fucker in this place to ash. I can’t risk that chance by acting preemptively.

  Joe Dirt and Bad Teeth argue for another thirty seconds. I ease close to the window over the sink. Both men turn as the window slides shut. I give them both a flat stare as I pull the curtain closed.

  “Come back when I’m finished.” Joe Dirt plants his foot in Bad Teeth’s stomach and kicks him backward. The other man yelps as he tumbles backward onto the ground.

  I turn my back to Joe Dirt as he closes the door and locks it from the inside. He chuckles as I work my way around the RV, systematically closing each window and drawing the curtains.

  The rattle of his belt buckle makes my teeth grind. The clump of his shoes makes me want to stab something. The soft crumpling of his pants as they hit the floor makes me wish I had fangs.

  He grabs me around the waist as I close the last window. His mouth latches onto the back of my neck.

  “Looking for a little privacy with me, hmmm?” His teeth nip at my nape. Each bite feels like poison.

  I spin around to face him. I don’t smile. I don’t pretend. I glare at him with every shred of fury contained in my body.

  He chuckles softly and palms my breast. “I like feisty women. You can fight me if you want.”

  My nostrils flare. I can’t fuck this up. One chance. One chance is all I have.

  I let him crab walk me back onto the mattress. The cheap springs creak as he pushes me onto it.

  34

  Hallucinations

  ERIC

  Mama Bear will come for us.

  This is the thought that sustains me as I watch the zombies tear into the flesh of the people who had been massacred in the garden. The jeers of Rosario’s people weave with the sound of snapping bones and tearing flesh. Underpinning that are the sobs and whimpers from Alvarez’s people as they’re forced to watch the bodies of their friends be devoured by zombies.

  Mama bear will come for us. Kate always looks out for us, no matter what.

  I can’t look away from the body of the girl I tried to rescue. Sometimes it’s a blessing to be nearly blind. I recognize her by the dark hair and the color of her clothing. I’m grateful I can’t see the details of her head and face.

  “I’m sorry, guys. I messed up.”

  “You fucked up.” Ben wheezes and spits out a wad of blood. “But your heart was in the right place.”

  Pain makes my head heavy. The ropes cut into my torso, making it difficult to breathe.

  “Have you ever seen those spy movies where the bad guy has a fake tooth in his mouth filled with poison?” I ask. “I want one of those.”

  “Stay alert,” Ben replies. “Be ready for Kate’s offensive.” Ben’s voice is rock-hard with certainty. “She’s always at her best when those she loves are threatened.”
>
  “She’ll come.” Ash’s voice is a croak, but I’m surprised to hear steel in it. “Kate always comes.”

  Apparently, I’m not the only one pinning my salvation on Kate. This makes me feel marginally better.

  The man staked to the pole beside us stirs. “K ... Kate?” he slurs. “That ... that Alvarez’s frieeeeend?”

  The poor bastard is half dead.

  “Yes,” Ben tells him. “We’re Kate’s people.”

  The man makes another string of garbled sounds. I can’t understand anything he says.

  “Poor fucker has been bitten,” Ben says. “He’s turning.”

  Damn. Bitten by a zom, then strung up on a pole to turn. Rosario’s cruelty knows no bounds.

  Speaking of which ... my blurry gaze drifts back to the zombies and their “appetizers.” How much longer before Rosario turns them on us?

  “Why did you tell Rosario we were sent by Medieval John?” Ash asks.

  “She was going to beat an answer out of us,” Ben replies. “I gave her an answer I’d hoped would satisfy her.”

  Well, it did satisfy her. But we were beaten anyway. Just not for information.

  “I have a confession to make,” I tell my friends. “I’m having hallucinations.” I glance across the small, hard-packing clearing to where Tom and Lila stand at the front of the crowd.

  “Jackalope hallucinations?” Ben asks.

  “Sort of. It’s Lila and my brother, Tom.”

  At the mention of her name, Lila rolls her eyes. Tom flashes his frat boy smile and waves.

  “My brother is waving to me right now.”

  “Either of them have a knife?” Ben asks. “We could use one right now.”

  “Tell the old man I’ll leave the killing to the rest of you,” Lila says. “But he already knows that.”

  “I lost my pocket knife weeks ago,” Tom says. “It got stuck in a zombie eye socket. There wasn’t time for me to get it back. We were overrun.”

  I don’t relay their message. The fact that I’m having coherent conversations with them tells me just how messed up I am right now.

  I lean my head to one side and close my eyes, wondering if I can fall asleep. At least if I’m asleep, I won’t feel all the pain. If I’m asleep, I don’t have to count down the minutes to our execution. If I’m asleep, I don’t have to watch the body of the teenage girl I killed get eaten like lunch meat.