DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

by Brown, TW

  “Sorry, no,” he said and reached under his chair, producing a 750 ml glass vial. A dark liquid filled the bulb at the bottom and halfway up the stoppered neck. He placed the vial on the table with a smile.

  “What’s that?” Lucy leaned forward.

  “A homemade strawberry wine,” he said proudly.

  “Like pruno?”

  “I believe you will find this far superior to some jailhouse concoction. While it is unlikely to win any Napa Valley awards, it should be more than sufficient.”

  “Well get to pourin’, Reggie!” Lucy exclaimed.

  Filling a plastic water glass, he set it before her with a bit of flourish. She picked it up, gave a sniff…then downed the contents. Reginald had tasted it already ensuring it was drinkable.

  “Hit me again, Reggie,” Lucy bellowed, slamming the empty water glass on the table.

  He poured another, this time filling the glass to almost the top. Lucy drank this serving only a little slower. Without being prompted, he emptied the rest of the vial’s contents into her still half-full vessel. The remainder of the night was actually pleasant. Lucy shared from her vast collection of dirty jokes and Reginald made certain to laugh at the appropriate times.

  Later that evening, in bed, there were no cruel remarks. Lucy even indulged him in a little bit of kissing on the mouth. Reginald lay on his back feeling satisfied and actually happy listening to the droning snore of the woman beside him. Perhaps, he thought, just perhaps things will be better now.

  ***

  Juan, Mackenzie, and Margaret sat on one side of the long kitchen table, JoJo and Thad on the other side. After the exchange of names, an uncomfortable silence had fallen over the group. Keith was sleeping in Margaret’s room. Mackenzie made sure the wound was cleaned and dressed. After sifting through the various antibiotics, she’d managed to coax him to consciousness long enough to ask if he’d known whether or not he was allergic to any medications. He’d said he didn’t think so.

  Giving him a dose of penicillin that Juan discovered in—of all places—Mister Billings’ medicine cabinet, she waited about an hour to ensure nothing bad happened. Once certain he was okay, she managed to get a couple Oxycontin down his throat. She was never too surprised to discover the plethora of assorted medications sitting idle in people’s medicine cabinets.

  “So,” Thad broke the silence, “is he gonna be okay?”

  “I think so,” Mackenzie confirmed. “As long as there isn’t any infection. I have no idea how often we need to clean and redress the wound, so I’m just gonna guess and go with every four hours unless it starts to really bleed through.”

  “How we workin’ this?” JoJo asked, deciding to cut to the chase.

  “That depends on you,” Mackenzie replied.

  “We ain’t the one shot nobody,” JoJo snapped. “All we was doin’ was lookin’ for Keith’s uncle. Ain’t none of us know’d a thing ‘bout him layin’ hands on you or your moms.”

  “I said I was sorry,” Margaret whispered.

  “No, you really didn’t,” Thad countered.

  “You went all crazy,” JoJo added.

  Juan remembered the day he’d met Margaret and Mackenzie. How he’d rushed up to their house when he heard screams. After killing the zombie child that was trying to eat Margaret, she’d flipped out and pulled a gun on him, too. He understood these two men and their anger…at least a bit.

  “You can’t be all pissed because of what she did.” Juan tilted his head towards the older woman beside him who sat with her head down, staring at her hands that were wringing nervously in her lap. “If you been out in this shit, you should know that there’s some bad stuff happenin’…and I ain’t just talkin’ ‘bout them deaders.”

  “So that makes it okay that she shot Keith?” Thad challenged.

  “No,” Mackenzie cut Juan off before he could respond. “But it makes it understandable.”

  “How’s that?” Thad leaned back in his chair.

  “Well—” Mackenzie started, but couldn’t find the words.

  “Where you two fall from?” Juan asked, his voice becoming quiet, but very dangerous sounding.

  The two looked at each other—Thad and JoJo—then back to Juan. Mackenzie saw something passing between the three men. It was like she might appraise a car in the lot…but not. There was something happening, and it felt important.

  “San Diego County,” JoJo finally spoke. “Only done two years stateside on a UUMV.”

  “Same,” Thad said. “Only I did a nickel on a distribution charge.”

  “And you?” JoJo asked. Mackenzie was lost in this conversation. Although, she had an idea these three were sharing some sort of verbal rap sheet.

  “No state,” Juan shook his head. “All county, Clackamas, Multnomah, Washington. All on petty possessions, but I been out and clean almost a year.”

  “Keith’s done the most,” Thad said with a smile. “He has a temper which got him in a tight-spot for assault and intent.”

  “So,” Juan glanced at the woman beside him, “we all good, or are you guys gonna bounce and find someplace else?”

  “I think we’d like to stay,” Thad said. “This is a nice set-up, but you couldn’t hold it if something a little bigger than us three pleasure-cruisers showed up. And with the weather due to turn in a couple months…I’d just us soon have my ass someplace I don’t have to worry too much about…what’d you call ‘em?...Deaders?”

  Juan nodded. He looked over at Mackenzie who was being uncharacteristically quiet. She looked back and shrugged, then glanced past him to look at her mother. Margaret still sat slumped over, head down, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.

  “There’s a lot of work to do here before things get too nasty,” Juan finally spoke.

  “Like that fence you’re building down on the beach?” Thad asked.

  “Yeah,” JoJo piped up. “What’s that about, I mean what good is a barbed wire fence?”

  “The deaders can’t figure out how to duck through,” Juan said.

  “So they just barge through,” JoJo shrugged. “Big deal.”

  “Actually,” Mackenzie spoke up, “unless there’s lots, and unless they see food…us…they just kinda mill about.”

  “So you go out every day and pop ‘em?” Thad said, nodding as he began to understand their logic.

  “I’d like to have the island circled before the end of summer,” Juan said. “Also, I’ve got a boat…a bit smaller than yours, and I thought it would do good to make a few supply runs. While I was out, I figured I’d look for people…groups with kids seem the least likely to be full of crazies.”

  “Well…we ain’t got no kids,” Thad smiled and patted JoJo’s solid but round belly. “At least not yet,”

  That earned some laughter from everybody at the table, even Margaret. There was a moment of silence and a lot of eye contact. Some nods between Thad and JoJo.

  “We’d like to stay,” Thad turned to Margaret, “if that’s okay with you.”

  “That would be nice.” Margaret wiped her eyes.

  “Now,” JoJo pulled up his shirt, exposing his belly, rubbing it with both hands, “what’s for dinner?”

  ***

  “The way I see it,” Chad stood on a downed log, facing the twenty-seven people who’d managed to escape the overrun FEMA center on the outskirts of Modesto, “we need to stay away from the towns. Our best chance of survival is to move up into the hills.”

  “What about when the government gets this under control, who’s gonna let us know?” a tall, heavy-set woman with her dirty, dishwater-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail shouted from the rear of the crowd.

  “Penny, is it?” Chad asked. The woman nodded once. “I don’t see that as a realistic possibility.”

  A murmur began to rise from the group and Chad knew he needed to take control before things got out of hand. Raising his hands and calling for quiet, he was a little surprised at how quickly the group was cowed.

  �
�We are gonna need to stick tight as a unit if we’re gonna survive this,” Chad said, his eyes scanning the faces turned up to him, looking for who would likely be an ally as well as who might be an enemy. “And I strongly urge all of you to stay with this group. But we obviously can’t make anybody stay if they don’t want to. All I ask is that you consider how much better our odds are if we stay together and watch out for each other,”

  “So you’re gonna be the leader?” Kimberly pushed through the group, glaring up defiantly.

  “I’m not leading a damn thing, Kim.” Chad shook his head. “I’m simply offering up a possibility. Those of you who want to come, we welcome. If you don’t…then do whatever. I really don’t care. Ronni and I are headin’ out first thing.”

  “Shouldn’t we at least try and gather some supplies?” Brett asked. He shrugged sheepishly when Chad looked his way.

  Chad considered the comment. They were thin when it came to anything: food, weapons, ammo, basic camping gear. In his desire to get away from this madness, he’d ignored the fact that they really had very little. If they were to survive in the wilds of someplace like…Yosemite.

  “You’re right, Brett.” Chad nodded. “Those of you coming with me meet me in five minutes at my tent. I know where I’m going, and I want to make a list of what we need. Then we’ll decide how we can go about obtaining it.”

  “And those of us who don’t want to go with you?” Duane Bowers stepped up next to Kimberly and put as much challenge in his voice as his puny five-seven, buck-thirty frame could manage.

  “Do whatever you like. I honestly don’t give a fuck.” Chad said with a big smile.

  Hopping off the log and heading for his tent, he caught Duane and Kimberly whispering with a group. A very small group…three others besides themselves. In truth, he sincerely hoped that those two chose not to come. Things were gonna be dicey for a while, and having to fight with them over everything would make things just that much worse.

  “Daddy?” Ronni stood in front of their tent with two girls about the same age, fourteen or fifteen. My PO would so not be cool with this, Chad couldn’t help but think. He thought he recognized one of the girls as Tammi Rodriguez, one of Donna’s sister’s kids. The girl had the misfortune of being one of those very homely, freckled, pale-skinned redheads. The other girl was doing her best to cling to a goth image that was now as dead as those things that clawed through the breach at the FEMA center formerly known as Modesto High School.

  “Yeah?” Chad tried to hide the instant awkwardness he felt the moment he was around his daughter.

  “Can Tammi and Krystal come with us?” Ronni asked.

  “I assume that their parents aren’t here?” Chad sighed. The last thing he needed was to be responsible for a trio of teenaged girls. One was plenty, thank you.

  “Dad!” Ronni snapped.

  “What?” He saw the stricken looks on the two girls. Just that quick they’d gone from know-it-all, obnoxious teens to frightened children. “Look, girls, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. And of course you can come with us. Just be aware, there’s gonna be a lot of hiking.”

  “My dad took me hiking a couple times when he had me for the weekend,” Tammi’s voice was hollow and so sad.

  Chad wanted to hug the girl, it just didn’t feel like something he should do. He wondered how much of that was the years in prison with the label ‘child-molester’ hanging off him. And that label was no secret to many of the people in the camp. If he knew Kimberly, everybody would be aware before too long. She was his own personal yard sign.

  “Least your dad showed sometimes,” Krystal sighed.

  Jesus, Chad screamed inside his head, didn’t anybody stay together and raise their kids in a functional family? He looked at the three girls huddled together and tried his best to smile without looking creepy. “This isn’t gonna be a lot of fun, girls, but we’ll need to get in as many miles as we can every single day until we’ve reached our destination,”

  “Where we headed?” Brett walked up, patting Chad on the shoulder.

  “Yosemite Valley.” Chad jumped at the sudden contact, instantly self-conscious that he’d been standing alone with three teen girls.

  Brett considered the answer for a second, and then began nodding, a smile growing on his face. “That’s an excellent idea. And all the more reason we need to supply up. We better consider the probability of having to survive the winter up there.”

  “We’re gonna need a few trucks,” Chad said. “I don’t think that will be a problem either. The issue will be getting in and out of town. Those things treat engine noise like a dinner bell.”

  “Heads up.” Brett elbowed Chad.

  Sure enough, Kimberly and Duane were headed his way with a small, angry-looking flock. Chad blinked. He hadn’t remembered seeing Glenn Kollars at the FEMA center. And there were two other men that didn’t look familiar, but he knew Glenn. Glenn was the arresting officer the day he’d been hauled off.

  “Seems you’re back to your old ways,” Glenn sneered, casting a glance at the huddled trio of young girls.

  Chad felt something cold churn in his guts. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Instinctively, he stepped between the approaching group and his daughter.

  “Talkin’ about your tending to like ‘em young, Mister Meyers.” Glenn pulled up a good arm’s length from Chad. “And it’d be just like your type to take advantage of this sorta situation. We been dealin’ with the likes of you in oddly high numbers since this whole thing kicked off.”

  “And where exactly have you been hidin’ these past months?” Brett stepped up beside Chad. “Ain’t seen hide nor hair of the police in quite a while.”

  “I’m guessin’ this bitch has been hidin’ under his bed, pissin’ Kool-Aid,” a voice said from behind Brett and Chad.

  “Mister Colson,” Glenn’s gaze locked on something over Chad’s shoulder, “last I saw you was during a ninety-day stay for drunk and disorderly.”

  “And now there aren’t any bars to save your ass, so talk some shit now.” Scott Colson stepped up to the other side of Chad. He was holding a sawed-off shotgun.

  “Takin’ up with child molesters now, Mister Colson,” Glenn challenged.

  “I don’t know this guy from Adam.” Scott glanced at Chad, then back to Glenn. “You I do know. I’ve been in that death-trap FEMA center with this guy…and most these others. That bitch beside you fucked every soldier she could convince that her herpes was dormant…the rest she gave head. That scrawny punk next to her is usually either spun on meth or sleepin’ off a week-long run. In any case, he ain’t lifted a finger once to do a damn thing for anybody. And when the fence went down, both those two found a hole to hide in till it was done. These two done nothin’ but bust ass and risk themselves,” he said, waving a hand at Chad and Brett.

  “I don’t know ‘bout the hippie,” Glenn indicated Brett, “but I do know this one.” He locked eyes with Chad. “I roll into this camp, and first thing I see is him off to the side with three little girls—”

  “You leave my dad alone!” Ronni barged past Chad. “He hasn’t hurt anybody and my momma says that whore,” her hand thrust out towards Kimberly holding a large knife, “she did what she did ‘cause my daddy left her for another woman.”

  Glenn and the other two men that had argued with him went for their guns. Glenn recovered first. “Whoa there, Missy,” he said, gesturing for the others to come off their guns. “Let’s put down the knife.”

  “Then you get that woman and you get away from us. My daddy is leavin’ this place and you can’t come,” Ronni shrieked, tears running down her face.

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” Chad placed his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, gently pulling her back towards him.

  “Tell them to go away,” Ronni insisted.

  “I will,” Chad said softly, “just put the knife down and let me deal with this.”

  “Listen to your daddy.” Glenn nodded.

  “Her
e’s how it’s gonna work,” Scott stepped past Ronni. “A group of us are leaving here in about an hour. Anybody who has a problem with this guy,” he tilted his head toward Chad, “it’s simple. Don’t come. Me, I’m for getting’ away from Modesto and the populated areas like he says. That seems a smart and sensible idea. Come. Don’t come. I don’t care. But anybody tries to stop us from leavin’…well…there’s likely to be some shootin’.”

  Chad noticed for the first time that everybody who’d escaped from the FEMA center had gathered around; many were holding weapons. There was a long tense silence. Then, people started drifting to stand around Chad, Ronni, Brett, and Scott. Not all of them, but a good majority.

  Eventually, a group of nineteen men, women and children began packing up all their stuff. Within an hour they were on the move, leaving behind the eleven that chose to stay. There’d been a couple of shoulder bumps and one nose-to-nose face-off, but other than that, the groups separated cleanly.

  “Last chance!” Chad stopped and faced the cluster of angry faces watching them leave. He scanned every person, making eye contact with each one. “I really think you’re all making a mistake staying here…it’s too close to town.”

  “You tryin’ to convince us…or yourself?” Glenn challenged.

  “I’m just extending the offer one more time,” Chad replied.

  There were no takers.

  17

  Geek Girl

  “Get up, Kevin,” Heather urged.

  The pitch-black darkness made it impossible to tell if he was responding to her gentle shaking. She patted his cheek a few times. Another barrage of distant gunfire made her jump.

  “Kevin,” she pleaded, “Wake. Up.”

  “What?” Kevin moved, his hands coming up in a weak effort to defend himself.

  “There’s trouble.” Heather grabbed both his hands firmly in hers.

  “Trouble?” Kevin’s voice began to gain clarity, began to sound more alert and awake.

  “Listen,” she urged.

  Kevin did as she asked. There it was. Distant, but very recognizable gunfire. And, from the sounds, there was a lot. Every so often it was punctuated by an explosion.