DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

by Brown, TW

  Juan jumped back in the truck after giving three hard yanks on the gate to ensure it was shut and latched secure. As he raced through the small, gated neighborhood, he felt a rush of adrenaline. He didn’t aim for any of the staggering deaders that were coming his way…but he did not try to avoid them either.

  As he reached the main access gate, he noticed that there were four figures inside the security shack. They all pawed at the Plexiglas windows, smearing the accumulated filth, but accomplishing nothing.

  “Poor bastards,” Juan said with genuine sadness. To think that they would spend forever locked in that box almost made him want to take the time to put them down…almost.

  Climbing out of the cab again, Juan searched the wrought-iron gate for a latch. He had assumed that the big electric gate would have the same sort of set up as the one that sealed off the driveway to the house he’d just left. Only, he couldn’t find a latch anywhere. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw all the residents of this little gated piece of Hell heading his way. He had another minute at the most before things got nasty.

  Scuttling along the length of the gate, Juan could find nothing that looked like a latch. He had no other choice. He very briefly considered returning to the house and trying to convince the pair of misguided kids to come along, but decided against it when he saw the stirrings of more than a few zombies that still wandered the area on the other side of the gate. The sound of the diesel engine was bringing them his way.

  Juan jumped back in the cab. So much for coming back and making an easy run, he thought. If they came back, he would know where to look and everything was pretty much in place for him to just snatch and go, but once this gate was gone…the ‘easy’ part was gone.

  Backing up enough to get a good running start, Juan whispered his apology to Frank. Their chances had just decreased drastically. Certainly there were not enough zombies in the gated community to be more than a nuisance. That was about to change. And if those two didn’t stay quiet and out of sight…they were as good as dead.

  Twenty minutes later, Juan was shutting off the truck at the water’s edge. He climbed out and headed for where he and Frank had left the boat with his first load of gear in his arms. An hour later, he was heading up the river towards Mackenzie and home.

  ***

  Chad had his machete in his hand before his eyes were even fully open. The scream sounded close and made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up. He could hear everybody else scrambling from their beds, but in the pitch blackness of a cloudy night, he could barely see his own hand in front of his face.

  “What the hell was that?” Brett whispered.

  “Who would be outside in this?” Ronni was already at the window.

  Chad joined her and saw the reason for her question. Big, wet snowflakes were pelting the window. Now that he was more alert, he could hear the sound of it hitting the glass.

  “Scott, grab the lantern,” Chad said as he began pulling on the foul-weather gear that they’d discovered in one of the lockers.

  “You aren’t seriously considering going out in this are you?” Scott challenged.

  “Somebody is in trouble.” Chad sat on the stool and flipped open the woodstove. The coals cast the room in an orange glow where everybody could see as he tugged on the rubber boots.

  “No,” Brett corrected. “Somebody was in trouble.”

  “He’s right, Dad,” Ronni added. “Whoever it was, isn’t making any noise now. I doubt there is anything that you can do.”

  Chad sighed. Deep down he knew that they were right. Besides, who would be out here in the middle of absolutely nowhere…wandering the mountains while a blizzard raged? Still, someone or something had made that noise…and it was close.

  As he struggled with inaction, a lone howl sounded. Wolves. He knew well enough that the zombie version did not howl.

  “I think that, like it or not, our days of helping anybody are gone,” Scott said. “We need to focus on staying alive. We can’t chase every scream and sound that we hear.”

  “So we just sit here in this tower?” Chad asked.

  “Actually,” Brett spoke up, “I think this place is a bad idea. Sure…there is a serious lack of zombie activity, but we got lucky the other day. Wild game is not going to be plentiful this far up. Like it or not, we need to head down the mountain. We need to get someplace that we can fortify that is still off the beaten path, but will allow us to scavenge. Perishables are shot, but canned goods will still be edible. If we stay here too long, we will starve.”

  Silence settled in the darkness. It went on for so long that Chad began to think that everybody had gone back to sleep.

  “I agree with Brett,” Ronni’s voice finally broke the silence.

  “But we discussed this back at the village,” Chad said.

  “We were running for our lives…hundreds, possibly thousands of zombies were on our tail and this seemed like a good idea,” Scott argued. “But we have been at this for days and it has gotten worse, not better. Instead of running from zombies, we are going to freeze or starve ourselves.”

  “We are still alive,” Chad insisted.

  “Barely,” Brett snapped. “And we are running out of luck. We keep slipping away by the skin of our teeth, and we have no idea what we are doing.”

  “But we are alive!” Chad retorted.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” Ronni added.

  “So what are we supposed to do?” Chad asked the darkness.

  “I think we need to go back,” Scott said after a long silence.

  “To Yosemite Village?” Chad could not believe what he was hearing. Even if that horde had come and gone, it was doubtful that there would be any survivors. And if there were, it was even less likely that they would be very receptive.

  “No, back down to someplace that is not a frozen wasteland.” Brett’s voice was distant. Not farther away, but he was obviously thinking about something. Chad decided to wait to speak. It was obvious that the man had something on his mind.

  “I had a friend just outside of Turlock who was a bit of a nutcase—” he began, but Scott interrupted.

  “You aren’t selling your idea very well, Brett. Just tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” Chad asked. He was confused. Had they been discussing and planning this without him?

  “The guy is a gun nut. He was also certain that China was going to invade. He has a huge farm out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Turlock is the middle of nowhere,” Ronni quipped.

  Brett ignored her and continued. “He is pretty hardcore about religion. I have no idea what faith, but I do know that if anybody is still alive and well despite all of this…it is him.”

  “So why do you mention the religious thing?” Chad asked.

  “Mostly because I don’t want you to be caught off guard,” Brett said.

  “That can’t be the only reason.” Chad was not about to fall in with a fanatic…provided that the guy was even still alive.

  “He has…issues with women,” Brett finally admitted. “It isn’t like he treats them bad, it’s just that he sorta sees them as second-class citizens.”

  “Excuse me?” Ronni moved away from the window. Chad couldn’t see her, but he could hear her moving around.

  “We can at least check it out,” Brett insisted. “If it is too crazy, we can split.”

  “So…” Chad was not sure exactly what to ask. “Does he have like a bunch of underage brides or some weird crap?”

  “No,” Brett actually laughed, “he isn’t some sort of crackpot fringe Mormon.”

  “Hey!” Scott snapped. “What do you mean by that? I’m Mormon…well…not practicing anymore, but that was the religion I was raised with and nobody in my family had a bunch of wives.”

  “I said fringe,” Brett stressed the word. “I’m not speaking for the entire flock…jeez, I’m a Catholic and was an altar boy for like ten years…not one priest ever touched me. It is only the screwballs that m
ake the news. Makes it seem like the whole batch is off the rail.”

  “So you say he has some sort of thing about women being lesser people or something?” Chad asked for clarification.

  “I am only bringing that up because of your daughter. I wanted to give you a warning just in case so you don’t slug the guy. If he is too over the top, we can split, but it is a start. And if you all decide against it, that is fine…but we can’t stay up here anymore. We can’t survive the winter like this.”

  A distant howl was the only thing to break the silence until dawn. The four woke to a crystal blue sky as the last of the storm could be seen as a dark smudge on the horizon. A scene of carnage waited just feet away from the ladder to the tower. A deer had been ravaged by wolves from the looks of things.

  “I’ve always heard that they have a scream that is almost human,” Scott said as they began their cross-country ski trek that would lead them out of the mountains.

  ***

  “We need to make it to across the street to that alley,” Vix whispered.

  Gemma peeled off her jacket and stuffed it in her knapsack. They had been running and dodging for the past few hours. She was sweating more than she ever believed possible. Ladies do not sweat…they perspire. How many times had she heard her mum say that when she was growing up? What a load of bollocks.

  “It looks pretty dark,” Gemma said with a trace of doubt in her voice.

  “Yes, but from there we can make it up that ladder and probably the roof of those flats.”

  Gemma followed where Vix was pointing. She saw a plain, brown building that looked like all the windows had been busted out. Scraps of material fluttered from several of the dark holes in the building’s face.

  “Did you pick that building because you couldn’t possibly find one creepier?” Gemma complained.

  “Would you rather stay out here?” Vix waved her arms to encompass the entire area.

  No matter where you looked, there was movement. In fact, Gemma had not seen this many zombies scattered about since the whole thing began. She had seen a few small herds, but here, on the outskirts of London, it was like the undead travelled in packs simply waiting for somebody to show up and be devoured. Actually, the more Gemma watched, the more she felt like those things were actually waiting.

  “When we get to that ladder, head to the third floor,” Vix whispered, snapping Gemma back to the situation at hand. “See that second window from the left? That is where we are going. If we get separated, just get there and stay put.”

  “What?” Now Gemma was definitely confused. Why would they get separated? After all, they were just running across the street and into that alley. Then it was a simple matter of up the ladder and along the fire escape to the window that Vix had pointed out.

  “Go!” Vix hissed and shoved Gemma forward.

  They were side by side as they stayed hunched over and hurried across the street. Gemma reached the ladder first and started up. When she looked back…Vix was nowhere to be seen. She felt something start to well up from deep inside. Somehow, she had known for the past couple of days that something was going on. Vix was even more short-tempered with her than normal. She wanted to climb back down and go find her. Maybe she had said or done something wrong. Whatever it was, she could fix it if Vix just gave her the chance.

  Unfortunately, time and circumstance were not on her side. Almost a hundred of those things were now gathered at the base of the ladder, reaching up for her and making all sorts of noise. Just beyond the crowd, she saw a figure scurry around the corner and disappear into another alley.

  Gemma sat down on the fire escape landing and dropped her head. The ball cap she had been wearing fell off and fluttered to the crowd below. It vanished into their midst, unnoticed by her or the creatures who were straining in futility to reach her. Every so often, one of them would grasp the ladder and make it up a rung or two, but they lacked the coordination to make it any farther and usually fell back into the group. Some vanished underfoot, others simply bobbed a few times until their feet managed to hit the ground once again.

  Gemma finally gave in to the feelings that she had kept inside since all of this began; since the day her best friend had been yanked through the window of her car and eaten while Gemma escaped and ran away. Since the day she had stumbled on to a small group of survivors and seen their numbers grow…triple…then diminish to less than half from when she’d first met them…to the day that she decided to follow Vix because, of all the people in the group, she seemed to know what was going on.

  Gemma cried. Below her, some of the zombies joined in.

  ***

  Vix shoved the girl and stayed just on her heels until they reached the mouth of the alley. As soon as they reached the fire escape and Gemma started up, Vix ducked into the doorway of the building just across the alley. A quick look revealed that, despite their best efforts at staying low and not drawing attention, several walkers were headed their way.

  She glanced at Gemma who was almost to the first landing. She was out of harm’s way. That was perfect for what needed to be done. It wasn’t that she did not believe the girl could not handle the next phase of the plan that she was really just piecing together as she went, it was just that she did not want the girl’s death to come because she was following blindly.

  “She hasn’t even asked what we are doing,” Vix whispered to herself.

  Sure, Vix thought with a smile, she asks a million other questions. Just not the important ones.

  As the crowd began to gather at the base of the ladder, Vix stayed long enough to confirm her suspicions that those infernal things could not climb. Sure, none of them could in all the stories that she had read, but she had long since stopped relying on her knowledge of fiction to act as her guide. The truth was, none of those books taught anybody what to do besides aim for the head and not get bit. No real revelation there.

  Once she was certain that Gemma would be safe, Vix slipped out of the shadow of the doorway and dashed to the next building over. She was putting an awful lot of faith in her ability to guess. If she ended up being wrong, she was going to feel absolutely ridiculous. And she had no idea what she would say to Gemma. This entire trip would be all for naught.

  She stepped over the remnants of a door that had been ripped from its hinges long ago. The hallway was dark, but she had been here enough to still be able to walk it with her eyes closed if need be.

  Back when she’d attended University, she’d met the boy she thought would be the one that would sweep her off her feet. He was sweet and charming and doted on her like no other…and turned out to be gay. Geoff Bentley had remained her dearest friend and had actually been the one to come to the hospital when one of the biggest mistakes in her life had expressed his displeasure with her announcement of being pregnant by beating her until one life was lost before it had the chance and hers hung by a thread.

  Shoving the unwelcome memories back into the box she usually had no problem keeping locked tight, Vix proceeded up the stairs. She knew what waited at the top of these stairs. It was something she had to do. Of course she would also get the keys that would open up a world of possibilities.

  A tiny tremor of excitement rippled through her and settled in the pit of her stomach. Her mind flashed to that last conversation.

  “I sent you that invitation,” Geoff said, but his voice sounded wrong.

  “I got it and can’t wait to come. I think Ivor will love it,” she replied.

  “Yeah…well, I think things have changed.”

  “How so? You didn’t get sacked did you?”

  “No…” Geoff’s voice faded and she heard him cover the receiver. She thought she heard him be sick. She knew that she heard him make a pained whimper.

  “What’s the matter, Geoff?”

  “Last night on my way home…this guy jumped out of the alley. He attacked me…bastard bit me and I think he gave me some sort of illness.”

  Vix remembered thinking at that
moment that it sounded far too much like one of her favorite stories. However, she just as quickly dismissed it. This was serious and no time for her to be acting ridiculous.

  “I can’t believe the lousy timing,” Geoff continued. “Jerrold is flying in this weekend for the premiere of the display with the dinner and we were told that Charles would be there in person to make a speech.”

  “You poor dear,” she had commiserated. “Well hopefully this will all pass in a day or two…it would be awful for you to miss the opening.”

  “Yes…well I have the keys to the vault…and because of the security involved…I have the only keys to the main display.” Geoff broke into a fit of coughing.

  “Yes…well I imagine they would send somebody over to fetch them if it came to that,” Vix laughed.

  “Let them try,” Geoff had growled. “I worked long and hard to secure this display…I’ll be damned if some other twat is going to—” Once again Vix heard Geoff cover the receiver as he became violently ill.

  “Perhaps you should go to hospital.”

  “I just need to let this burn its way through my system,” Geoff said weakly.

  The rest of the conversation had been small talk. That was also the last time that they had spoken. When things started making the news about large outbreaks of a peculiar illness, she had tried to call but there had been no answer. The next night was when things had gone crazy at work.

  She reached the door and stopped. It was almost pitch black. Fortunately—for her, obviously not for the former residents—more than one of the apartments had had its door busted in. That allowed in just enough light from outside for her to be sure that there was nothing in the corridor.

  She took a deep breath. If she was wrong about anything, this was a wasted trip and she would look the fool. A scratching on the door behind her made Vix jump. She took another deep breath and grabbed the door knob and tried to turn it as gently as possible. Locked. She was not surprised, but she reached up above the jamb and found the key that was tucked in a tiny recess.