DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

by Brown, TW

  The four-lane road on the other side of the fence was a bit of a concern. A military blockade had been in place here. The vehicles still remained…mostly. Something had gone terribly wrong. A fire had left everything blackened. In fact, looking closer, he could see where the pavement looked rippled in places. Charred husks littered the area. Whether they had been soldiers, civilians, or zombies were impossible to tell. Across the road, a tan, stone fence marked off a residential area.

  Everybody gathered in close, many craning their necks to peek at the wreckage beyond. Chad noticed Ronni edge close to him. It was strange how she seemed to keep her distance as they travelled, but whenever they stopped, it was as if she were iron and he a magnet.

  “I think that the group should wait here and a few of us should check the road. We need to get a look at how things are on the other side of that fence,” Chad said.

  “I’ll come.” Scott Colson raised a hand. Scott had stepped in the other day when Sheriff Glenn Kollars had arrived in the midst of their group. Chad being a convicted felon of the most unsavory type created an instant and nasty tension. He was surprised when this total stranger had taken his side in the little standoff. But since then, the two hadn’t really spoken.

  “I’m in, too,” Brett Simmons, his old high school buddy said as he stepped forward.

  “Okay, everyone else stay put,” Chad said. “We won’t be long. If it looks safe we’ll hurry back and gather everybody.”

  “What’ll we do if you three don’t come back?” Sandy Miller, a woman whose peroxide-blonde days were over whether she liked it or not, and who had been much heavier if his memory of the woman had served him correctly, stepped forward and asked.

  “Keep heading up to the hills and away from the populated areas,” Chad replied. He glanced at his daughter. Ronni was leaning on a tree, her backpack already unslung and on the ground beside her. She seemed to be intentionally not looking his way.

  “Let’s go, Chad.” Scott nudged his arm.

  The three men had reduced their load significantly. Chad carried a hand axe with a .357 in a holster at his hip. One pocket bulged with a handful of bullets. Scott held an aluminum baseball bat stained from use, and a Glock. Brett gripped a katana that Chad didn’t remember seeing before. He wore a shoulder holster with a Glock as well.

  Crossing the dirt road was easy, as was the ditch, and even climbing through the fence. However, once they were out on the wide expanse of road, things seemed suddenly much more… frightening was the word that came to Chad’s mind. He looked both ways. Occasional shadows of movements could be seen, but nothing close.

  They skirted the edge of the cluster of burned out vehicles. The smell of cooked flesh still hung in the air despite the fact that this wreckage had cooled long ago. Upon closer inspection, Chad noticed that many of the bodies had been picked clean.

  “Birds,” Chad whispered.

  “What?” Brett glanced over.

  “I don’t see any,” Chad replied. “But those bodies were picked almost clean and I am guessing it was by birds.

  “So?” Brett raised an eyebrow.

  “If those birds ate people who were infected, or worse, those who were already zombies, then maybe those birds are—”

  “Zombies?” Scott finished the thought.

  “You think they can still fly?” Brett began glancing nervously skyward.

  “I doubt it,” Scott said. “I mean, people who turn can barely walk. It wouldn’t seem likely that some sort of zombie bird would be flying.”

  “Sorta like it wouldn’t seem likely that some people who die wouldn’t get up and start eating the living?” Brett quipped.

  “It’s a matter of physics—” Scott shot back.

  “Later,” Chad interrupted. “We can argue all of this stuff around the campfire tonight. For now, let’s just get to that wall and see if we can cut through here.”

  The three men moved in silence. Each of them, including Scott, cast a wary eye to the sky more than once. After they gained the far side of the road, the trio took a good look around. The brush and tall grass on this side could easily hide one of those things that might be missing its lower half. Also, a few figures had stumbled out of the shadows and were moving their direction.

  Chad looked back at the almond tree grove where his daughter and the others were waiting somewhere out of site. It suddenly seemed like a thousand miles away. He didn’t like leaving Ronni behind. Despite the others that were with them, they were all each other had. He wasn’t going to make it a habit of taking on all of the scouting missions.

  “Give me a boost,” Scott said, snapping him out of it. Lacing his fingers, Chad gave Scott a purchase to step into. As he gripped the top of the wall and pulled himself up. Brett stood a few feet away, katana drawn, scanning the area and trying to determine which of the approaching figures might reach them first.

  “Christ on a cracker,” Scott breathed, and lowered himself, stepping out of Chad’s hands and dropping to the ground.

  “What?” Chad asked.

  Scott didn’t say a word. He simply laced his own fingers and indicated with a nod that Chad take a look for himself. He stepped into Scott’s hands and pulled himself up. The hellish nightmare that unscrolled before him took his breath away. Since early on, he, Donna and Ronni had been in one of the few FEMA rescue stations; Modesto High School.

  The streets of the neighborhoods were littered with garbage, body parts, corpses swarming with flies, and wrecked vehicles. Singles and groups of the undead wandered about aimlessly. Houses were burned down, some swarming with clusters of zombies clawing at the walls, windows and doors. Others had been busted into, and all the glass on the ground floor shattered, doorways turned in to gaping holes of darkness. Some houses had sheets fluttering from second floor windows with messages like: “HELP!”, “FIVE INSIDE”, or “SOS” painted on them. It didn’t look like there were any survivors. Also, they wouldn’t be cutting through here.

  “Well?” Brett asked, edging towards the nearest of the zombies that were closing in on them from all directions.

  “We keep moving,” Chad said, dusting his hands off on the seat of his pants. “Further up, there’s an overpass if I recall. It’s worth a look.”

  “Sounds like as good of a plan as any,” Scott agreed.

  Brett stepped forward, swinging with both hands. The razor-sharp blade sliced nearly two-thirds of the way through just below the temple. With a push, he forced the body to slide from the blade. After wiping it off on the tattered remnants of the thing’s shirt, he took after Scott and Chad who were already hurrying back across the four-lane road.

  ***

  Kimberly Gant stared up at the canopy of branches. She couldn’t see a single cloud in the blue sky above. Focusing on those branches, she looked for shapes, designs or patterns in the leaves. Anything to occupy her mind while Duane Bowers huffed and puffed in time with his rhythmic thrusting. She was vaguely aware that he’d increased tempo. With a muffled groan, he shuddered and stopped.

  She let him lay there for a moment before she pushed him off as she scooted out from underneath. Only a slight shiver of revulsion rippled through her this time.

  “You liked that, didn’t ya?” Duane stood, pulling his pants up. He’d mistaken her reaction…again.

  “It was terrific.” Kimberly did her best to sound like those bimbos that used to talk in those chat line commercials that ran late at night.

  Once Duane wandered off through the bushes, she got up and walked over to the large, black plastic bucket and squatted over it. Picking up the bottle beside it she flipped up the nozzle, inserted into herself and squeezed. The tepid water flushed her out for the most part. Walking back over to the sleeping bag that was laid out on the ground, she picked up her bra and panties, put them back on, and sat down.

  Her mind drifted. Chad and his group had left two days ago. For some reason, almost everybody had gone with him. About ten minutes after he had left, she realized that s
he was the only female to stay behind. Her on-again/off-again boyfriend, Duane Bowers, and his two drinking buddies—Eugene Jasik and Ray Owens—had stayed. So had that creepy Mexican José Reyes that worked at the Casa Felíz restaurant that she used to frequent on Double Margarita Mondays.

  Then there was the sheriff, Glenn Kollars. Sheriff…that was a joke. They’d been fucking for three months when he’d told her that he had the perfect way to get rid of Chad. At first, she thought he was going to say something about having him killed. She would have never agreed to that, but instead, all she needed to do was to say that he’d molested her three-year-old daughter. It had been just that easy. Six months later, Chad was sentenced to ten years in prison. Unfortunately, by then, she and Glenn had split up.

  Kimberly bit her lower lip. She’d tried hard these last few months not to think about Phoebe, her daughter. Sometimes, in her nightmares, she heard that scream. The one she’d heard in her back yard that day. That was the day she’d put her daughter outside because Duane wanted a hummer before going into work.

  Kimberly blinked back the tears. No, she scolded herself, you won’t think about that. It was all about survival. Not for the first time, she wondered if perhaps Chad had the right idea. Only, he’d cut her out of his life, going so far as to get into some sort of perverted relationship with his ex…Donna. That little slut Ronni’s mother. He’d been seeing Donna since he’d gotten out, then there’d been that ‘incident’ at the rescue center. Donna had landed a lucky punch. Now, that bitch was dead and she was doing what it took to survive.

  The bushes shook and Glenn stepped through. Yes, Kimberly thought, everybody has their role now. The men were busy finding supplies and hunting for a place to stay besides this stupid park or native trail, or whatever the hell it was they’d camped in last night.

  “Where’s them red bikinis I got for ya?” Glenn asked as he unclasped his belt.

  “Hanging up to dry,” Kimberly said as she rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself up on her hands and knees.

  She heard and felt Glenn move in behind her. Yes, Kimberly winced as she reminded herself, everybody has their role. She braced herself as the thrusting started.

  4

  Geeky Soulmate

  “I played a softball tournament here last year.” Heather scooped the last grape from the can of fruit cocktail into her mouth.

  “Here?” Kevin looked out the press box window.

  “Well, not this field.” She got up and stood next to Kevin and pointed. “This is the boy’s field. The softball diamond is right across. See it?”

  Kevin looked out past the fence to another playing field that looked pretty much like the one they were directly behind home plate of. They were in a big building that contained four different press boxes; each one looking out on its own baseball diamond. This hub was useful in that they could watch from every direction. The biggest threats were the ones looking northeast and northwest back towards the city of Newark.

  “Yeah,” Kevin nodded. “So how come you guys had to play over there and the boys got to play here?”

  “You really don’t know anything about sports, do you?” Heather chuckled.

  “Nope.”

  “Is that one?” Heather grabbed Kevin’s arm and turned him just a bit. They were in the northwest box looking out into a neighborhood that had, thus far, been almost frighteningly quiet.

  Kevin brought up his binoculars and made a slight adjustment. A lone shambler was indeed wandering in the trees across the way. It looked like a young girl, perhaps ten or so years old. She was missing an arm.

  “Yep,” Kevin confirmed. He gave a slow going-over of the area to be certain it was alone. “Doesn’t seem to be any others.”

  “Where have they all gone?” Heather asked.

  “Well…” Kevin continued to scan the area. “Since we’re about five months in, and we’ve seen large groups moving in pursuit of people—”

  “Like us,” Heather joked.

  “Yeah, like us,” Kevin agreed. “But also Shaw and his men, and anybody else who’ve passed through. And who knows what else has put them in motion. Anyways, from what I’ve seen, they bunch up if they figure out there’s something to eat in the area.”

  “Like us,” Heather giggled.

  “Yes.” Kevin took a deep breath. She was trying to get a reaction from him and he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. “The problem I have is that we couldn’t see any singles in the more populated areas. They gather. The appearance of a single could be that these things are like goldfish.”

  “Goldfish?” Heather sounded skeptical. “If you said piranha, then I’d agree…but goldfish?”

  “I’m talking about their memories,” Kevin explained. “Supposedly you can tap on a goldfish bowl, and by the time it swims back, it’s already forgotten.”

  “Oh,” Heather sighed. Sometimes Kevin didn’t make any sense. She knew he was trying to make a point; he was just really bad at it.

  “What I mean is,” Kevin sensed her frustration, “I think those things might not have any sort of memory. If you watch, they can claw at a door or wall forever. The ones we’ve seen trapped in cars keep clawing at the glass to get out. They have no concept of futility. But something comes along and disturbs them, and off they go on a totally new tangent.”

  “We’ve got a couple,” Peter announced. He, Shari, and Erin had been watching from the southeast and southwest facing press boxes.

  “And a dog,” Erin added with a shudder.

  “What?” Kevin barged past. “What do you mean ‘a dog’?”

  “You know, …arf-arf,” Shari said, then made exaggerated panting noises.

  “Sounds like the noises you and Peter make after dark,” Heather remarked under her breath.

  Kevin brought up his binoculars. There were four moving along the road out front. They were coming from the east; which meant they’d come across the bridge less than a half a mile from their location.

  Sure enough, there were two zombies…and a dog. Looking closer he noticed that the dog was leaving dark splotches in its wake. That would indicate that it was probably a recent kill. It looked emaciated, every rib showing in the mangy looking, patchy fur.

  “That’s disgusting,” Heather whispered at his side.

  The trio of undead continued along the road, apparently uninterested in the baseball complex. As he watched, he was stricken with an idea. He returned to where he and Heather had been and found the straggler. It was moving along the outside of the fence now…heading for the others. He kept going back and forth between the north and south west-facing press boxes. The road that the trio were walking along arced away and they still hadn’t seemed to have noticed the lone straggler.

  The others—Peter, Shari, Erin, and Heather—watched Kevin in silent curiosity. This went on for several minutes, but other than questioning looks and the occasional exasperated sigh from Erin, everybody stayed out of the way.

  Finally, Kevin was able to stay in the southwest facing box and watch both the singe girl and the trio. The dog-zombie noticed first and veered away from the group, heading towards the one-armed girl-zombie. But the other two continued on. Finally, the pair stopped. In their slow, awkward way, they changed direction and started across the open waist-high grass. When the group converged, there was a pause, and for several seconds they all just stood there. Then the little girl turned and headed towards the road that would lead north though a residential area and eventually into downtown Newark. The others followed.

  “Goldfish!” Kevin exclaimed, pointing.

  Everybody stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head, even Heather who had heard the ‘goldfish theory’ explanation only moments ago. Kevin stared back, his look of realization slowly giving way to sheepish embarrassment.

  “I don’t mean to sound like a jerk,” Peter finally broke the silence, “but what are you talking about?”

  “Okay,” Kevin sighed, his inner-voice telling him to m
ake sure he didn’t talk to them like they were stupid. “The zombies, from what I’ve observed, seem to have absolutely no short-term memory. They move along the path of least resistance until something causes them to deviate.” He saw Erin’s face scrunch up at that last word. “Umm…change direction.” Her face brightened and he continued, “There is no way I can determine a course, but, and this is what we can use, I can comfortably say that I believe we can effectively distract them.”

  “But what does all this have to do with us?” Shari asked. The others nodded. They still didn’t get it.

  “If we can get to this golf course that Heather talked about, then we will have a secure place on a bit of a hill. This allows us to see in plenty of time if there are any dangers, living or dead, approaching. If we fortify the fences and walls, even a heard should flow past like a river skirts an island. Then we can rig all sorts of noisemaking devices. That way, when the damned things bunch up on our location for whatever reason, hopefully we can distract them.”

  Everybody continued to look at Kevin while he spoke. Slowly, their looks of skepticism changed to nods of agreement and approval.

  “This needs to happen soon,” Kevin continued, casting a pointed glance at Erin’s belly. “I want to be someplace remote and at least moderately safe for when the baby comes.”

  “That’s a really good point,” Peter agreed.

  “The problem we’ll have is making the trip,” Kevin sighed. “We could use the truck to get us in the area, but I think it’s a bad idea to bring it all the way. That would be like ringing the dinner bell.”

  “Maybe the two of us should go and check it out,” Peter offered.

  “Absolutely not!” Heather and Shari objected almost in unison. Heather shot a look Shari’s way, then nodded for her to go first.