DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

by Brown, TW

  He was given a solar powered golf cart and enough food and water for a week. By then he was expected to be clear of the worst part of the desert and should be able to forage. Davey Poole had opted to stay behind and so Big Paisano was on his own.

  It took him less than a week to find a pack of survivors. They immediately asked him to join them, most likely because he was so large and scary looking. At the time, he still had his big handlebar mustache and shaved head. Unfortunately, these were the sort of survivors that were using the end of the world to their maximum advantage.

  It all came to light for BP two days later when they came across a small group consisting of two women and five men. BP watched in horror as the men were butchered and the women dragged off into the brush. At some point, one of the men came up and told BP that it was his turn.

  Not being stupid, he knew that if he reacted in any other way than was expected, he would join the corpses lying in pools of coagulating blood in the middle of some vast desert highway. He went into the brush and had to fight back being sick at what he saw. The woman was a mess and near hysterics.

  She begged for him to help her, and he felt his soul become just that much heavier when he knew that he could not. He did the only thing that he could think of at the moment; he covered her mouth and nose until she stopped moving.

  When he emerged and the next guy went down to “take his turn”, there was a lot of fuss over how BP had killed one of the women. BP waited for some sort of backlash, but all he got was some crude jokes and a few sly winks. He knew then what he had to do.

  As they came upon a small housing development that was blessedly clear of any zombies, and everybody split up to forage for supplies, BP took what he considered to be his best and only shot. The man he had been paired up with never saw the blow to the back of the head that crushed his skull.

  Moving with what little stealth he could muster, BP set out to hunt down the six other pairs. One by one he found them. He was surprised at how easy it became to take a human life. After the third pair, he actually paused and took the time to consider if perhaps he might become more like these men after committing multiple murders. The image of that woman in the brush came to him and helped steel his resolve.

  He had gotten down to the last two pairs when a cry of alarm sounded. At first, BP thought that he had been discovered. He was considering the option of calling it square when he heard the scream again. He knew it for what it was; the sound of a terrified child.

  Just as he rounded the corner of the house where his last two victims would spend eternity—one with his throat slit and the other with his neck broke—BP spotted the man who had followed his “turn” with the woman in the brush. He had been further disgusted when the man had simply shrugged and gone back to commit necrophilia. Of course, he realized that he should not have been so surprised; if the man was willing to commit rape, there was probably very little that fell outside of his depravation level.

  The man was dragging a young girl of no more than ten or so out into the street. The young man who had been paired up with this animal was following, but he looked like he was about to cry. BP realized that he had never seen that particular young man go off into the brush with either of the female victims. That gave him hope that he would have one less person to kill. He was about to make his move when the only other two living members of the gang arrived. By the way they were looking around, BP knew they would be expecting the others to show up and take part in whatever sick plan they had for this poor child.

  The one thing that nobody lacked at this early stage was firepower. BP’s biggest advantage was that he would have his gun drawn and be able to take down at least the first target before any of them would be able to draw a weapon.

  Taking aim with the .30-06 he had acquired, BP sighted in on the man who had been dragging the child out into the street. He was aiming for the middle of the man’s chest since the child was on the ground and not at risk of being hit. Channeling all his anger and disgust, he fired. Shifting to the next target, he took down one of the two men who had come out to join in the debauchery. He lost the third target along with the young man who had not seemed to really want to be a part of the gang’s vile practices.

  Rushing out, he scooped up the child and hurried into the closest house. The child was hysterical and still believed that she had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire. It took BP a few minutes to get her to calm down, but at last he was able to convince the girl that he meant her no harm. She was still sobbing, and in hitched and staggered words that had to be forced through the weeping, she said that her older brother had been killed.

  “You just stay put, and I will get you out of here safe and sound,” BP said.

  “You promise?” the girl had asked.

  “Yes.” BP said that was the last promise he ever made, or ever would make.

  Peeking outside, he heard a commotion a few houses down and took off to finish what he had started. Taking off, he sprinted to where he had heard the sounds of a struggle. He arrived to discover the young man who he had dismissed as a target due to his not partaking in the horrors that had been inflicted on the two women a few days back. Unfortunately, it appeared that he had not possessed the stomach to commit murder…even in self-defense. His throat had been slit from ear-to-ear with such ferocity that his head barely remained attached.

  BP turned a full circle, hoping to catch any glimpse of movement or indication where the last remaining man of the gang might have disappeared. The answer came in a shrill scream from back the way he had come from.

  Feeling his blood chill, BP trudged back to the house where he’d left the child. Sure enough, standing on the porch with the girl before him was the last man. He had his massive and dripping blade against the girl’s bared neck.

  “One step and I slit this little cunt’s throat,” the man growled.

  BP stopped and held his hands out to his sides. He looked the man in the eyes and did his best to keep calm. “You let her go and I let you live. There is no other outcome here.”

  “You some kinda wanna-be hero?” the man spat, pressing the blade just enough to elicit another cry of pain and fear from the little girl.

  “Nope, just a person who is trying to hold on to what is left of his humanity.”

  “You sure you just don’t want this little chicken all for yourself?”

  “Just let her go and we will go our separate ways.”

  In the end, BP figured that the man knew there was no way that could or would happen. Maybe he wanted to die; maybe he was so disgusted by his own depravation. In any case, he slit the girl’s throat, tossed the body aside, and then charged. BP caught the man’s arm as it made a wild slash. Turning the wrist until it gave a resounding snap that brought a scream, BP turned the man’s arm back and drove the blade up into the chest. He stared into the man’s eyes until they glazed over.

  He walked over to the girl and was horrified to see her mouth still moving. Just as he reached down to her to see if there might be any way that he could save her, she gave a sudden shudder and died. Her eyes stared up at him in what he swore was reproach and condemnation.

  For the next several weeks, he refused to continue his journey home. Instead, he became a hunter of men. He searched for more like those who he had travelled with briefly. His goal was to kill as many as he could until he finally failed and fell victim to a target that would manage to turn the tables on him. He had no fear of the undead and saw them as nothing more than a pest that needed swatting away if it came between him and his target.

  Deep into the winter, he scoured the land for the monsters of humanity that had managed to survive and wreak their brand of destruction. He took a few bullets and suffered a shattered hand on one occasion from punching one man in the face over and over in the fit of rage that he slipped into each time he found what he sought. The worst part was in the discovery of just how common and easy it was to locate the worst scum humanity had left behind in the wake of
its near destruction.

  It was in the deepest and coldest part of winter that he stumbled upon a small military outpost. A dozen soldiers had made an encampment in the foothills just outside of La Grande. He had not realized it, but he had been slowly drifting closer to home.

  He had stumbled into camp near frozen and sporting a raging fever that was sure to be the cause of his demise. That group turned out to be Grady and his companions; the last survivors of Serenity Base besides the group led by Steve.

  ***

  “You sure that you don’t want to come in?” I asked as we hunched down beside a burned out husk of a building. As soon as I took one more step, the folks up in the lookout tower would see me.

  “I’m sure,” Big Paisano sighed.

  I could tell that he was anything but sure. He was looking at this outpost on the edge of La Grande like a man dying of thirst might look at a glass of water. Still, I did not feel right in trying to force him to do something that he was not ready for; not that I could force the man to do anything he did not want to do.

  “But you will stay here while I try to get a meeting set up with you and Dr. Zahn,” I confirmed. BP nodded in the affirmative.

  I shook the man’s hand and stepped out into the open. Sure enough, I had not managed to take two steps before the call came for me to halt. I identified myself and heard a bit of a fuss begin. Obviously the news of my demise had been reported.

  I was told to approach the nearest entry chute. I did so and made sure to take off all of my protective head gear. If any of my people were in the area, I wanted them to make a quick positive identification.

  The gate to the chute opened and I stepped inside.

  “Mister William Haynes,” a familiar voice called down.

  “Surprised to see me?” I asked, looking up at Graham’s stern face.

  “Not the word that I would choose,” the man huffed as he lowered himself down into the chute with me. “I imagine there is one hell of a story about to be told, and something tells me that I may not like it.”

  “Probably not,” I agreed.

  “Well, let’s get you checked out and certified clean. While that is being done, I will send somebody to your people. They are gonna want to know that the initial reports were wrong.”

  I followed Graham to the checkpoint where I was stripped and inspected for any signs that I might have been bitten. Other than the ugly knot on the back of my head, I checked out fine.

  “Who took care of your injury?” the female medic, or whatever she was, asked after she was done.

  “He won’t be answering any questions,” a voice said with that air of authority that I knew so well, announcing the arrival of Dr. Zahn.

  “Excuse me,” the lady who had been checking me out said with a tinge of anger in her voice, “but you are not authorized to be—”

  “Run along, little girl,” the doc made a shooing gesture with her hands as she pushed past the woman who was now red-faced with anger.

  “I’ll do no such thing.”

  Dr. Zahn spun on the woman and pulled a knife from someplace. I honestly do not know who was more surprised; me or the medic. Darla entered the room like nothing in the world was happening and moved past the scene that still had me stunned.

  “We are taking you home,” Darla said after she had thrown her arms around me and gave me a huge hug. “There is somebody waiting to see you, and I suggest we not keep her waiting a moment longer.”

  “Katrina—” I began, but Dr. Zahn spoke and cut me off.

  “Has been a wreck since the news came that you had been killed. We had to sedate her. Thankfully, news to the contrary arrived just as she was waking.”

  Wow, I don’t think I’d ever had somebody get so worked up about me before. If it was anything like how Melissa had been after Steve died, I was actually a bit embarrassed.

  I dressed and followed Dr. Zahn out of the examination room. I spotted the medic who had been checking me. She was standing over in a corner talking to Graham. He was doing his best to calm her down, but she wasn’t really having anything to do with his attempts to placate.

  “…pulled a knife on me, Graham!”

  “We will talk about it later,” I heard him say, but I saw the dirty look he gave Dr. Zahn. Personally, I don’t think that Dr. Zahn cared. She sure didn’t show any indication of it as we exited the long building and headed down the road.

  As the streets began to look familiar and I eventually spotted the house I recognized as the one my whole group had been put in upon our arrival, I felt a weird flutter in my stomach. I suddenly remembered that I did not like being the center of attention. The front door flew open and a little girl burst out and jumped down the stairs.

  “Billy!” Thalia squealed as she came for me at an all-out sprint.

  I stopped and waited. Good thing, because as soon as she decided that she was close enough, the little Hispanic girl launched herself at me. I caught her and felt one of the fiercest hugs that I had ever experienced in my life. At last, she pulled back and looked me in the eyes.

  “Those stupid people came and told us that you were died!”

  “Never believe it if you don’t see it with your own two eyes,” I whispered in her ear as I hugged her back and shifted her over to my left hip as I resumed my walk towards the house.

  When the door opened next, I saw Katrina’s familiar figure. She stepped out onto the porch and stood stock still with her fists clenched at her sides.

  “You better put me down,” Thalia whispered.

  I did just as Katrina burst into tears and came at me with her arms out. I was ready to catch her. I should have known better.

  “William Haynes!” she cried as she punched me in the face. It was just a glancing blow, but it had me backing up and throwing my arms between us for protection as she continued to rant and rave about how stupid and careless I was while trying to pound my chest into oblivion.

  At some point, I dropped my hands and pulled her to me. She struggled for just a moment before settling in to me and sobbing like I was actually dead and not standing right here in front of her. I looked around, but nobody was offering me any sort of help.

  Finally, she pushed away and looked up at me with red-rimmed and puffy eyes. “They said that you went down under a pack of zombies while trying to lead them away from the group.”

  Well, at least they were telling part of the truth. “They were wrong.” I bet Jamie would have had something a lot smarter to say in the moment. That thought made me miss my best friend and feel a bit more sympathy for what my people had all just gone through.

  “That isn’t all they said,” Dr. Zahn added.

  And here we go, I thought.

  “They said that you endangered the entire mission and got several of the team killed.” Looking around, I saw all of my fellow remaining survivors gathered and leaning forward as if I had something interesting to share.

  “Let’s take this inside,” I said, throwing one arm around Katrina and looking down to see Thalia clutching my other hand.

  Once we were inside and everybody had taken a seat, I told them everything that had happened. Nobody interrupted, but I could see a variety of expressions crossing people’s faces as I described the child zombie ambush and all of the insanity that followed. I decided on the fly that Grady and his people needed to be included in my story. Dr. Zahn’s expression told me that she did not necessarily agree, but I was getting tired of secrets.

  “And you say this Big Paisano person is camped outside the compound and wants to speak with me?” Dr. Zahn asked when I had finished my account.

  “Yeah, like I said, I guess the guy was a local from here, but he isn’t ready to come back in and see people.”

  “That seems a bit odd,” Darla muttered. “I mean, if I was this close to home and held on to any hope that some of my friends or family might still be alive, I would not hesitate.”

  “He is carrying a lot of baggage,” I said with a shrug.


  “Who isn’t?” Darla shot back. “All of us have done things we are probably ashamed of. That is part of survival now.”

  I could see her point, but I was also not going to be the person who told BP that he had to do anything. If he wanted to meet Dr. Zahn outside, that was his business. Our only problem would be in getting her out.

  “I have tower duty tonight!” Sunshine said. “Dr. Zahn could slip out using my tower.”

  “You have duty alone?” I asked.

  “Night watches are usually pretty dull according to the orientation. Besides, there is a roving patrol that comes by about every ten minutes, so it’s not like they are really leaving me to my own devices. It should be no problem.”

  “I was a little surprised by how quickly they integrated us to their community,” Melissa said from where she sat feeding the baby. “I already have a job at the day care center.”

  There was a knock at the door and everybody went silent like we’d just been caught doing something naughty. Since I was closest, I went to see who it was.

  “Billy, glad you’re still up,” Graham said. He was not alone; there was a five person team standing a few feet back. They were holding rifles and trying to look uninterested.

  “Is there a problem?” I purposely looked past Graham and scanned his armed escort.

  “We just need to ask you a few questions about what happened on that run. There were some reports, and I would like to hear your side of things.”

  “Mister Haynes will not be answering any questions today. If you want to speak with him, you—” Dr. Zahn looked out at the goon squad and then returned her gaze to Graham, she sighed and I saw her expression falter for just a split second. “You are welcome to come in and speak with him. I will be present and this is not a negotiation.”