Dead Bones - Six Pack. The Ultimate Zombie Collection

by Ian Woodhead

  Marcus kicked the door open and rushed inside and almost slipped on the blood spattered across the lino floor. He saw the defiled body of his friend dumped in a leather sofa and looked down at the floor trying to blink away the hot tears. What the fuck was she? Bonzo looked as though a dozen tigers had torn him apart.

  Do you wish me to disarm him first, Dennis?

  “What the fuck?” he cried.

  Something flew out of the shadows and fastened around his wrist. And pulled him back. He gritted his teeth, feeling as though his arm was inside a vice. The katana fell from his hand. The blonde woman stepped out of the darkness, and grinned down at him.

  “You are such a pretty boy.”

  He looked at the red mess covering her front; he tried to pull away but the woman was just too strong. Marcus then saw something behind her legs move.

  “You!”

  The man peered around the woman’s waist. “Kill the bastard, my mistress. I want to watch you bite his face off.”

  The woman giggled then pulled Marcus towards her. He kicked out his leg and twisted his body, sweeping the woman’s feet out from under her. She fell heavy, not expecting Marcus to fight back. Yet the bitch had not released his wrist. He stamped down as hard as he could on her ankle, hearing the bone snap. She cried out and let him go.

  Marcus leapt over her body, ran through the door, and almost collided with Helen.

  “Turn back!” he shouted.

  Her eyes went wide, “Look out!”

  Marcus twisted to one side, narrowly avoiding the little man from cutting him in half, but his clumsy blow caught Helen’s arm. With his working hand, he punched the man, watching his nose explode across his face.

  Marcus took Helen’s hand then ran for the apartment, glancing behind to see the woman limping out of the other apartment.

  “That’s not possible,” he cried. “She isn’t supposed to get up!”

  He saw her step over the man and follow them across the corridor. He pushed the woman into the apartment then cursed his stupidity; he should have retrieved the katana when the slimy creep dropped it.

  “Move out of the way!” the boy screamed.

  He looked up to see Craig holding a pistol. Marcus dived to the floor as he fired the gun. He turned his head to see the woman framed in the doorway, a red bloom appeared and spread across her shoulder. She just looked at it and grinned.

  “Is that the best you can do?”

  Craig fired three more times before the gun jammed. All he had succeeded in doing was knocking her back into the corridor.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you.” She looked down at Marcus, then ran across and stamped on his leg. “See how you fucking like it, you dirty bastard.”

  White-hot pain lanced through his leg; he gritted his teeth refusing to give her the pleasure of hearing him scream out in agony. He crawled across to Helen. “Do what you want with me.” He managed to say. “But let them go.”

  The blonde woman smiled at the creep that had sneaked in behind her. She patted his head.”

  “I was wrong,” said the man. “I thought my mistress wouldn’t let me have a pet. The woman is going to be my plaything. You and the boy are going to help us get out of here. We’re going to throw you out of the fire escape.”

  Craig screamed out and Marcus thought it was because of his fate until he saw movement above him. The ceiling fell down bringing with it dozens of wall climbers. They ignored Marcus and the others and attacked the woman and the creep.

  The boy crawled through the broken tiles and took hold of Helen’s hand. “Follow me!”

  Marcus looked up and saw him pull the woman over to an overturned chair. Beneath the chair was a square hole cut into the floorboards. Helen turned around and grabbed his hand. He couldn’t believe it, the boy had found the weapons.

  Craig took Marcus’s other hand, then dragged him over to the chair, and rolled him into a dark hole. Helen crawled him after him, followed by Craig who entered last and closed the hatch behind him.

  “I said it was here.”

  Marcus nodded, feeling the rifles and pistols under him. He’d trade them all for a truck load of painkillers and a warm bed.

  “There’s light further down.” Helen said.

  Marcus heard scratching above him and wondered who was up there. Did that evil couple manage to fight those kids off? The question would remain unanswered. He found that right now, he didn’t really care anymore.

  Unconsciousness was beginning to creep up on him. Marcus couldn’t fight it any longer and closed his eyes. He felt the boy and Helen grab his hands and move him away from the scratching sound.

  The End

  Thank you, dear reader for reaching the end. The end, you ask, how can that be, there’s supposed to be six books in this collection. Well, there are. Let me explain. The first three books, as you have already discovered, all took place at the same time, give or take a couple of hours. Each story focusing on a different set of characters. The next three books take place a few months after the outbreak and we catch up with some of the survivors. As well as meeting with a few more ‘delightful’ people.

  So, if you’re ready, Let’s read on!

  Dead Veil

  Edited by Linda Tooch

  Chapter One

  Three of its desiccated fingers fell into the accumulated mix of dead leaves and ancient litter. Ernest Belmont screamed in rage and terror before he smashed the steel bar down once more. This time he succeeded in stopping the foul thing in its tracks as the weapon demolished the top of the creature’s skull and pulverised its brain. The corpse dropped to its knees and toppled forward.

  Ernest jumped over the abomination. He ran over to the gates, tugged on the padlock, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he found it still locked. The deserted view showed no more of them anywhere near the building.

  He had to get back inside the supermarket. Oh fuck, what the hell was he playing at? The wind would carry his scream for miles. Christ knows how many more of those bastard things were still in the area.

  “Come on, you daft old man. Calm the fuck down, it’s not like that they can get in here now, is it?”

  Ernest wiped the black gunk off the end of the bar and hurried back towards the plastic curtains that separated the delivery yard from the rest of the warehouse.

  “Oh yeah? So how did you figure he got in? What, he squeezed through the gaps in the fence or maybe the fucker leaped over the wall?”

  He gazed around the supermarket delivery yard, making sure no more of the dead things were in here with him. Ernest shook his head—no, apart from inside the skip there were no other hiding places.

  “Check the skip then, you silly sod.”

  Ernest rushed over; he raised the bar above his head and cautiously peered inside. Nothing jumped out. Aside from a few plastic bottles floating around in the scum-filled water at the bottom, the skip was empty. He sighed, then turned back towards the curtains; he could see the blurred outline of Darren behind the thick, clear plastic flaps. That cocky little twat must have thought all this was highly amusing, watching his dad rushing around like a manic sparrow. It didn’t really surprise Ernest that the lazy boy hadn’t come out to help him.

  Crimson clouds across the dusk sky; Ernest blinked, trying to remember the last time he saw clouds. He just couldn’t work it out. The metal shutters across the supermarket windows and main doors blocked most of the light out. It transformed Ernest’s world into a permanent state of dark twilight. The only light he received was from the skylights above the hardware and freezer sections, and they didn’t bring in much light.

  “Oh God, how I missed looking at the sky.”

  The offices above the shop would have windows, but there was no way he intended to go up there. They would also have comfortable chairs, carpeting, and maybe even some bottled water. Ernest had emptied the shelves of bottled water and the flavoured stuff a while back, and he was getting so sick of fizzy drinks and undiluted fruit pop.r />
  He wasn’t alone in his choice of hideaways. He shared the supermarket with another one of those dead things. Thankfully, a locked door separated him from the dead thing he had heard moving about above his head.

  “I thought you wanted to get back inside.”

  Ernest pushed through the plastic curtains and placed his iron bar on top of a pallet of toilet paper. He wrinkled his nose at the stale atmosphere; he had forgotten just how good fresh air smelled. There were so many things from his past life that he missed: fresh fruit, a hot meal, having a bath. Christ, the list was endless.

  “How about having sex? Don’t forget that one.”

  He glared at the shopping trolley. “Trust you to think of having sex.”

  Ernest certainly hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to have a naked female body lying next to his; Christ, he so missed his beautiful wife.

  “It’s hard to believe that such a caring and sweet woman could spawn a hooligan like you.”

  He punched Darren’s left arm and sighed when it fell into the shopping trolley. Ernest tutted, he retrieved the empty tube of kitchen foil and inspected the end.

  “I told you that blue-tack wouldn’t hold it, Darren. You wouldn’t believe me would you?” Ernest tenderly brushed the bright green hair away from the football. He also noticed that his right eye was a little wonky. “You always think you know best, lad. You’re just like your old mum, god rest her soul.”

  He pushed the trolley away from the loading bay towards the entrance into the shop. That thing outside couldn’t stay there, he would have to find a way to lift the body over the fence. The deadies were an annoyance, but even if they had heard the scream, he didn’t think they hung around for more than a few days. He was more concerned with whether the kids or the hunters had heard him cry out like some big scared girl. If they came to investigate and found him, he may as well kiss his life goodbye. Leaving a fresh kill in the yard was one sure way of them knowing that this building had an occupant. Once they knew that, those fuckers would tear this place apart looking for poor Ernest and Darren. He guessed that a full year of this bastard nightmare would have pretty much dried up their food source. There was a strong possibility that he was the last living human in this shitty city. He had not seen another friendly face for months.

  “Darren, I may have to re-check all the traps. Now come on, lad, don’t start whining at me. You were safe in your trolley. I bet you’d have shit your pants if it had been you out there.”

  Christ on a bike, he almost had a bastard heart attack himself when that dried up corpse stumbled out from behind that stack of pallets. He still couldn’t work out just where it had come from. He had checked the yard only a few weeks ago, he had even climbed into the skip. There were no deadies in the yard until today. This mystery was going to plague him for days to come.

  “I thought you were the smart one in the family, Dad.”

  “Darren, I don’t have a clue how it got in here.”

  “Maybe it fell out of a passing plane?”

  “I swear, Darren, one more sarcastic comment and I swear to god, I’ll knock you out of that fucking trolley.”

  Ernest paused by the locked door and gazed through the wire reinforced rectangular window. As per usual, his upstairs neighbour was nowhere in sight. He turned away from his view of the stairs and walked back to the trolley.

  “Yes, Darren. I know what you’re saying. I’ve killed one deadie today, why not do the other one while you’re at it? You’re only saying that because you want to see if this place has a pool table.”

  Ernest laughed. “What? You think you’re old man is an idiot?”

  The hand drawn face on the old football didn’t reply.

  Come on, let’s get your arm fixed and this time we’re doing it my way, we’ll use the gaffer tape, like I originally said.”

  Despite his son’s selfish needs, he did have a damn good point. There was nothing stopping him from retrieving his bar, going up those stairs, and smashing that deadie’s rotten brains out.

  “But the door’s locked.”

  He scoffed. As if a locked door had ever stopped him before, he was a retired burglar for crying out loud. Hell, he had broken into this supermarket easily enough.

  “Tell you what, Darren. Once I’ve shifted that thing out of the yard and we have had our tea, I’ll toss a coin. If it’s heads then I’ll go fuck up that deadie upstairs. Now, I can’t say fairer than that, son.”

  He gave the wig a friendly tap then pushed the trolley through the double doors. If he was honest with himself, he rather enjoyed his five-minute slice of deadie bashing. The adrenalin surging through his system had been such a rush. It certainly beat his usual mundane activities.

  “I’m sixty-forty in favour already,” he muttered.

  The anticipation of feeling carpet under his feet and having the option of gazing through a window again put a spring into his step.

  “They may even have some more bottled water up there; oh Christ, I fucking hope so.”

  Ernest pushed his trolley past the household section.

  “Now, don’t you give me that look, Darren. I’ll sort out your arm in a minute. We’ll just take a trip down the wines and spirits aisle first. I think that killing that deadie gives me a perfect excuse to have a beer. If you can keep your smart mouth shut for more than a minute, I might even let you have a beer too.”

  Chapter Two

  That bastard had seen her take the packet. She just knew it. His dark brown eyes were just full of mischief, no doubt cooking up another thousand ways of landing her in trouble.

  Aliza Gray brushed her long braided hair back with both her hands, taking great care in exaggerating her movements. She twisted her body round, looked the group sub-leader up and down, allowing her eyes to pause by his groin; then she winked. Aliza turned back and put on a bit of speed to catch up with the rest of the group.

  That ought to place Tim’s mind working on a double-shift. She didn’t think he would say anything to the group leader about the beef jerky she had lifted. Not now. She might accidentally pinch his arse when they got back to the tower block.

  If Aliza could keep that tosser’s dirty thoughts focussed on her, then he may look the other way the next time they took her to the warehouse. Not that he had a chance in hell getting into her bed; at least she hoped he didn’t have a chance. Her future regarding a potential mate had yet to be decided by the committee.

  There had been many more times when she had wished she could have refused their proposal, but what else could she have done? Aliza had a kid to look after and feed, and they’d made it clear that they would have turned her away if she hadn’t agreed to their terms, no matter how fucking inhuman it sounded to her.

  Andy Willis was waiting for her, doing his best to look cool and calm, failing miserably at both.

  “What was all that about then?”

  She gazed into his concerned eyes, forgetting that the lad had been next to her. Of all the people she had met inside the bunker, Andy had to be the nicest. It was obvious that the young lad fancied her, that was as plain as day. Even so, he still made time for her, helped out with her son, which is more than could be said for her fellow neighbours. If they had met each other outside the bunker, none of this choosing a mate bollocks would have come up.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You know what Tim’s like.”

  “Tim’s a creepy fucker who needs a good kicking; you only have to say the word, Aliza and I’ll drop the fucker.”

  He meant it too. The man in question joined them; he nodded at Andy who glared back at him. Aliza had heard all the rumours flying about their mutual hatred. Once she had gotten the next few days out of the way, Aliza intended to find out exactly what had gone on between them.

  She followed Andy along the designated path through the underground carpark; Aliza took great care in not deviating from the parallel chalked lines. The group kept in single file and stayed silent.

  In a
ll the time she had been with these people, she had not heard of a single report of any predator breaking through the defences. Andy had explained that the route from the tower block to the warehouse was perfectly safe. Even so, just like the rest of the survivors, she didn’t question the administrator’s use of extreme precaution.

  Aliza swung her head from left to right, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of movement in and around the abandoned vehicles.

  “I hate this section,” whispered Andy. “They ought to get these cars shifted.”

  Aliza knew exactly what he meant. Six months of living in the secure tower block had helped her forget just how perilous the rest of the county looked.

  “It’s perfectly safe,” she muttered.

  Of course, it was safe down here; they wouldn’t allow the groups’ only mother to put her life in danger.

  “Okay, folks, we need to stop for a moment.”

  Tim hurried past Aliza and Andy stopped beside an old man leading the group. She couldn’t remember his name, Harold, Harry, or something like that. There were less than fifty in the group, but Aliza still couldn’t remember all their names. Mystery man whose name probably began with H was one of their roamers. It wasn’t often she saw him.

  She tapped Andy on the shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  “Dickhead is giving the master key to Henry.”

  She grinned. So that was his name.

  “He’s going to check on the farm.”

  “The what?”

  “Oh right. I keep forgetting that this is your first time as a forager.”

  He pointed over to a long grey caravan stood behind an over turned green Range-rover. Lights burned in two of the windows. So much for her vigilance, she hadn’t even noticed them.

  “The dickheads called it the research module.” Andy coughed. “You know what those arseholes are like with their titles. There are two scientists and a couple of assistants living and working in there. I’ve put my name in the hat for a stint as an assistant, no luck yet. Apparently it’s a well cushy job. They eat better than we do, I can tell you.”