Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3

by Coley, Joseph

  “You would not believe what we have gone through to get here,” Joe explained. “We lost two men on the way here and...” he trailed off. Tears began flowing from him as well as the pressure of getting to his family was finally relieved. Rickey and Buffey began hugging him again as Joe broke down in pitiful sobs.

  He had finally made it home.

  CHAPTER 15

  Joe slumped down on the sofa and hung his head as Buffey recited what had happened over the course of the last few days. As Joe had been struggling to make it home to his family, hoping along the way that all would be right with the world once he got there, he had fooled himself into a false sense of security. Lori had died giving birth to the beautiful baby boy that Buffey now held in her arms. Her sacrifice would be in vain if Joe could not come up with a solid idea for keeping them safe. Holing up in the house had worked as a temporary solution to what was not going to be a temporary problem. A singlewide trailer was not going to be a castle no matter how much work was put into it. Joe snapped up from his daze and looked to Buffey who was still standing in front of him. She took notice of his lack of understanding and frowned, concerned

  “Are you okay honey? You look like your mind was wandering.”

  Joe focused on the newborn child. He slowly looked around the room at his ragtag looking friends and bolted up from the couch. They took notice immediately, and snapped their collective attention to him. Joe paced towards the door and stared at it. He turned to address his group.

  “Look I know that you all want to stay here and stay safe. The problem is that we can’t have both. Truth of the matter is this place is going to be destined to be overrun by the undead or worse…” He trailed off and looked at Jamie who was nodding in acknowledgement. “Jamie and I passed something on the way here that I think could be our saving grace, and if it’s not then it will at least buy us some time to find out what will be.” His newfound extended family looked at him to tell what was going to save them from the end of the world.

  “Anybody know how to drive a train?”

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  SIX FEET FROM HELL: ESCAPE

  BY JOSEPH A. COLEY

  © 2012 - JOSEPH A. COLEY

  CHAPTER 1

  Joe might as well have had an arm growing out of his ass. His confused, saddened, and tired cohorts just had an interesting - albeit strange - question laid out in front of them. The reactions from the group ranged from comical to downright disbelief as each one pondered the idea. He had asked if any of the attending people in the room knew anything about how to drive a train, with no clear solution being present. The glances exchanged between them had not given him any indication if the idea would fly with them. A noticeably long pause followed the inquiry. The group stared at him for several seconds until the silence in the room became unbearable. The lack of any questions about it settled in on Joe and he became uneasy. Had it been too quick to try to drop a bombshell of that kind of magnitude? His brow started to sweat even in the relatively cool house. Buffey had not used very much of the gas heating in the house, fearing the need to ration what amount that was left in the tank. He finally became frustrated with his group and spoke again.

  “What? I’m being serious.” Joe finally managed to get out. A nervous shuffling of feet and glances down to the floor answered him back. Joe turned to Jamie and mouthed a plea of help to convince them. Jamie laid his AR-15 down and stepped up to address them.

  “Look, we aren’t talking about doing this right now, but Joe and I both believe that eventually we will run out of supplies no matter how many grocery store raids that we make, and despite the amount of stuff that we have now. The fact of the matter is that we need to try to find a more defensible position than this. It is not very sturdily built or very well insulated. We need a better, more secure location. If anybody has got any suggestions, I’m sure that everyone is all ears.” Jamie’s backing seemed to have a better effect on them as they glanced at one another, trying to figure out what to say. No one person had a brilliant suggestion as to where they wanted, or were able to go. Ashleigh finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

  “Why can’t we just gear up and head to a Wal-Mart? There is one in Wytheville that we could get to if we wanted. There are all kinds of ammo and food. We could just hole up in there and not have to worry about doing anything for a long time.” Ashleigh said, standing up. Wytheville was roughly twenty miles away, with a population of around 10,000. It was the only sizeable town nearby, which also made it a prime spot not to go towards in Joe’s mind.

  Joe shook his head no and made a deep sigh. “Wal-Mart is going to be crawling with two types of people,” holding his index finger and counting. “There will be one - people that are zombies, and two, there will be people that are going to become zombies shortly. Wal-Mart is a fucking death trap. When this shit hit, most people were unprepared and the first place they likely hit up is good ‘ol Wally World.” Joe began to pace around the room, dropping his rifle and gear as he did so. “Then they get overrun and try to stampede out like cattle, making the panic worse. Hell people was trampled to death at Wal-Mart before there were flesh-eating zombies to prompt them. People will fight over every scrap of every useable item they can. Fact of the matter is they probably have gutted most of the halfway useful items anyway.” Joe was right. A few years back several people were injured at their local store; Black Friday shopping took its toll on people’s sanity. The Christmas rush had been enough to nearly incite a riot before; the end of the world ought to have had an interesting showing over the past few days.

  Ashleigh sat back down, dejected by Joe’s blunt honesty. Chris was the next to step up to the podium, so to speak. He opened his mouth to start his explanation, but stopped before he could mount an effective argument. He shook his head. “He’s right. I mean look at us. We have maybe a week’s worth of food before we have to start looking elsewhere. I don’t know how long our ammo is going to last, either. Another horde or large group of zombies is gonna put a hurtin’ on our supply. Plus now…” He trailed off and motioned to the newborn baby that Buffey was holding. Dakota now made more problems for the group that they were ill prepared to tackle. “We have him to take care of as well. I mean, we have no baby formula, can’t keep milk from spoiling and we don’t even have any bottles. As much as I hate to say it we are gonna have to start thinking about some kind of permanent or at least semi-permanent place besides being holed up here. I’m not going to be any good for at least a few days with this, so I will leave that decision with someone else,” Chris said, holding his wounded right ankle up.

  “Well, let’s at least get all of our ducks in a row first. We need to take stock of what we have and make a run of what we absolutely cannot live without, starting with baby formula and meds,” Joe said. Joe rolled his thoughts around and came up with the idea that if they were busy doing something, anything, that maybe they would come around a little easier to the thought of leaving the house. Although he was not entirely correct to assume that they would jump at the idea, better judgment would hopefully prevail. The thought of leaving his own home did not sit well with him, either. The vehicles that they had at their disposal were by no means limited with three pickup trucks and Buffey’s minivan. They could get from point “A” to point “B” easy enough, but what the hell were they going to do once they got there? Cars and trucks ran on gas, which is a quickly exhausted supply. They would eventually run out, get stranded, or worse. The thought of losing any more of his friends or family that had managed to survive the initial deluge of terror and instability made a nervous shiver run up his spine.

  Joe left his cohorts to their thought and stepped into his and Buffey’s bedroom and began peeling off the layers of grimy, soiled, and still somewhat wet clothes off of him. He walked over to the sink and eyed the water in the bathtub. Buffey had listened to him about getting the tubs filled when it had all started, and he was now extremely grateful for it. He dipped a cup of water from the bathtub and bega
n to wash off some of the bits of zombie parts that had lingered on him. He poured the last of the cup over his head and propped himself up over the sink, hanging his head low. Horrible smelling bits of decayed zombie parts dripped from his brow. A thousand different ideas of how best to protect his people were racing through his mind when Buffey slowly came up behind him and began rubbing his back.

  “Rough day at work, huh?”

  Joe turned to face her and chuckled. “Yeah, no shit. Do you think leaving here is the right idea?” There was no sense in dodging the idea to her. He figured if anyone was going to be the easy one to convince it would be her.

  “I guess so. I mean this place is no fort, but we have to be extra careful now with the baby and all….” Buffey said and trailed off, looking away. She was reminded of the horror of Lori’s death giving birth to the newborn. “She was going to name him Dakota. I think it’s only right that’s what we should call him.”

  “Okay, Dakota it is then.” Joe said smiling. He moved forward to embrace his wife when he was interrupted by the little one’s cries. Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As much as he hated to, they were going to have to make a supply run right now. Buffey was sensing his dread as well.

  “You know we have to have the baby’s stuff now, but I don’t want you to go back out there just yet. Just send Jamie and Chris instead.” Buffey suggested and hugged her husband. Chris was not going anywhere anytime soon due to his ankle and Jamie knew the area at all. There was no sense in sending them out when Joe was capable – albeit reluctant – to make a trip into town.

  Joe hugged his wife back, and then stepped away, driven by his thoughts. “There is something I want to, no scratch that. There is something we need to do before we go out, though.” Joe moved his gaze from his wife to the body lying on the bed. “We need to give her a proper burial.” Buffey’s eyes began to well up. She had inadvertently forgotten about Lori’s body that was still on the bed, covered with a blanket. They had not had time to grieve, let alone do a proper burial. Buffey let go of Joe and he wandered over to the bed and stroked Lori’s head through the sheet. She dare not pull it back since she had been the one to deal the fatal shot once Lori had turned. It was bad enough to have the memories of doing it without having to see it all over again.

  Joe went into the living room and announced that they were going to bury Lori and give her soul some peace before they went and did anything. All the members of the group wholeheartedly agreed and got to their feet and went into the living room to console Buffey who was in a full-on sob now. Ashleigh turned Buffey towards her and embraced her. As well as her best friend, she was the only other female in the group now as well.

  “Don’t worry, Buffey. She is in a better place now and she knows that we will take care of Dakota for her.” Buffey continued crying as Joe, Jamie, and Ronnie volunteered to dig the grave out behind the house. Chris was not able to give much assistance because of his ankle so he proposed to make a makeshift grave marker and to take watch while the other men were at work digging.

  The three gravediggers grabbed some shovels that Buffey had managed to get when they were stocking up. They each three took turns in the back yard making the grave, and when it was finished, they notified the rest of the group. The makeshift pallbearers carried Lori’s body to the site and gently laid it down in the soft earth. The rest of the group stood back and bowed their heads as Buffey stepped outside with the newborn Dakota. She stood at the head of the grave and whispered something to Dakota that no one could make out and kissed him softly on the forehead. She then recited Psalm 23, which the rest of the group joined in. All of them were moved to tears, including Jamie who did not even know Lori other than the fact the she was Joe’s stepdaughter. They each grabbed a handful of dirt, threw it in on top of her, and said a final goodbye. When all were finished, Joe, Ronnie, and Jamie finished covering the grave. Chris hobbled down to the gravesite and pressed a makeshift cross into the ground at her head.

  After all was said and done all the members of the troupe went back inside, replaced their boarded up sections, and covered the sliding glass door. When they were finished Joe grabbed his pack and went to Buffey who was still holding little Dakota and gently weeping to herself. She straightened up when she saw Joe standing in front of her. Joe knelt down and looked into her sad, mournful eyes. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what did you say to Dakota out there?”

  Buffey looked up at him and looked back to Dakota. She gently rubbed the small tuft of hair that he was born with. “I told him as long as he had me that his mommy would live forever.” Joe leaned forward and lightly kissed Dakota on the top of the head. He looked at Buffey, who had a worried look about her. He leaned forward and hugged her gently.

  “I have to go now before it gets too dark out. I will take Ronnie with me and make a quick run. As much as I hate to say it we need that stuff now.” Joe loosed his grip on his wife and stood facing her. “I promise I won’t die just yet. I’ve got too much shit to do now.” He said half-jokingly and managed a convincing smile to go along with it. He had not quite convinced himself of his apparent immortality. Joe made his way back towards the other end of the house when he noticed Ronnie was sitting at the kitchen table, readying his gear and shotgun. Joe passed by him and clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s me and you, dude. How much gas you got in your truck?”

  “I filled it up a few days ago when the shit hit the fan. We’ll have plenty enough.” Ronnie replied and snapped the breach closed on the double barrel. Joe reached down, took the gun from him, and examined it. “You know, since the whole end-of-the-world thing happened don’t think that gun laws really apply anymore. We could saw off this bad boy. It’d make a hell of a close quarter’s boomstick for the store.”

  Ronnie slipped out a sly grin. He was thinking the exact same thing. He and Joe had always been on the same wavelength as long as he had known him. When Ronnie would have a song stuck in his head, he would inevitably come by the house and Joe would have that very song downloaded or playing. Having Ronnie around was like having a younger brother, and losing Lori was like losing a daughter and a sister. The fact weighed heavy on his heart as Joe forced a smile and motioned for Ronnie to follow him. They went to the front door and eased it open, not fully sure whether or not Jamie and Joe had eliminated the recent infestation when they arrived. Ronnie grabbed his 9mm and pointed it out the door as they both peered around. No sounds emanated from the area, and they slowly worked their way outside. Buffey protested them going outside, and Joe waved a reassuring hand that the coast was all clear. Joe told Jamie to post up at the door with his AR-15 and keep watch while Joe and Ronnie headed out to the shed.

  Joe and Ronnie made their way to the shed within a few seconds, checking every few steps for the telltale sounds and smells of the walking dead. They slipped inside the work shed and left the door ajar in case Jamie spotted anything out of the ordinary. The meaning of “out of the ordinary” had taken on an entirely different and altogether more terrifying meaning the last few days. Ronnie popped the shells out of the shotgun before he began work on it. Ronnie thought to himself that there was no sense in blowing his hands off, or worse because of a stupid mistake now. Ronnie eyed a workbench vice, took the shotgun over to it, and clamped it down. Joe grabbed a hacksaw and cut the barrel just past the small wooden handle, and Ronnie filed the barrels smooth. Joe then managed to cut the handle into a respectable sawed-off and released the vice. He handed the gun to Ronnie who grinned devilishly as he loaded the two shells back in it.

  “Well, what do you think?” Joe asked, barely able to contain his giddiness of the sheer awesomeness of the gun.

  Ronnie was about to answer when a slow-moving walker appeared in the doorway of the shed. Joe instinctively reached for his pistol but was interrupted by Ronnie holding the newly made sawed off in the direction of the zombie. Ronnie defiantly held up the shotgun and let both barrels unload. Ronnie nearly fell over from the bl
ast as both 12 gauge shells obliterated the zombie from the neck up. The sound inside the shed was deafening as both men’s ears rang like Big Ben. Chunks of skull skittered against the walls inside the work area. The smoke settled as well as the nasty bits of a former walker. Joe stood somewhat shell-shocked, his hand still grasping for the pistol and turned towards Ronnie.

  “It’ll do,” He sarcastically let out. Ronnie popped the spent shells out of the sawed off and loaded a fresh pair. Joe, still in somewhat of a daze, followed Ronnie out of the shed. Ronnie nonchalantly looked over at Joe, wiping off bits of clotted blood and brains.

  “You got red on you,” He said with a wink.

  The two men strolled back to the house, where Jamie was pacing towards them. “Everything all right? I heard a hell of a blast, what the hell was…oh damn.” Jamie stopped himself in mid-sentence once he eyed the new weapon and the now-headless zombie that Joe and Ronnie had taken care of. Once they came back inside Joe grabbed his gear and told Ronnie to do the same. Buffey and Ashleigh were busy trying to soothe the inconsolable Dakota, with little success. Jamie came back in after checking around the house for any stray undead that might have been attracted. Once he was satisfied that they were temporarily safe he finally removed his gear and set it beside the door and began to work on Chris’ ankle. Chris’ medic bag had ample supplies to take care of his wounded appendage. Jamie wrapped his foot and applied a cold pack to reduce the swelling, which was now becoming more obvious.