DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

by Brown, TW

  “I got stuck right here. Been in this very room since it all began. Was in town for my grandson’s wedding. He did his grand mama right and put me up in this swanky place. Told them desk folks to feed me good and treat me like I was their own. The boy had just signed his big contract with that pro basketball team and he was one of them good ones they didn’t like to talk about as much. Did good in school, didn’t have no tattoos or police problems. Married his childhood sweetheart…”

  Catie sat quietly. It wasn’t that this story was any different than most, it was simply that she had the feeling Abagail didn’t tell the story often. A person who told the old stories from the early days with any regularity could just spit it out like reciting the alphabet.

  A single tear carved its way down the old woman’s face, defying the fact that the skin probably wanted to suck that moisture in to salve its parched surface. It reached one saggy jowl and hung in the air, Catie’s eyes transfixed on that tear almost as intently as she was the story.

  “…stood outside my door and clawed at it for probably three or four days. The whole time he was making that awful sound like a baby crying for its mama. More than once I wanted to go out and just take the boy in a hug. Finally, he wandered away. Never saw him again.”

  Abagail brushed at her face with both hands and smeared the trail of moisture across her cheeks. “Look at me rattling on and on. You most likely want to find a place to settle. I can tell ya that the rooms facing out to this street are mostly taken, but there are still a couple on this floor. I’d be more than tickled if’n you was to stay around, maybe come visit. I see you gonna have a young’un soon enough. Grand mama Abagail makes a good sitter as long as the Good Lord intends to keep me alive and kickin’.”

  “I will keep that in mind,” Catie said as she got to her feet. She was just opening the door when Abagail called out from where she still sat at her table.

  “Felt good to squeeze some of that poison from my heart. Any time that you are ready to do the same, I promise to listen just as keenly as you just done. Might wanna do it soon. Babies can carry that sort of pain in their being if you keep that blackness swirling around inside ya the whole time you carryin’ it.”

  Catie pulled the door shut and resumed her wandering of the once grand hotel. She saw more of the same; frightened people who were probably afraid of their own shadows more than they were zombies. She saw a few folks that had some hideous disfigurement from zombie bites. However, she passed more that seemed to show nothing.

  And then there were the children. By the time she had finished her tour, she was estimating the population to be close to five hundred. Over half were below the age of eighteen, and at least a hundred of that two hundred-plus were likely under age ten.

  “This isn’t an army,” Catie muttered as she exited the building. “It’s a day care.”

  She headed across the street and made her way back to the library. She was just reaching the building when four men came around the corner a block away. Even at this distance, she recognized one of them as being with that group that she had hidden from the day that she met Kalisha. Now that the situation was different, she took the time to really observe these Beastie Boys.

  The first thing that came to mind was a bunch of jocks at a frat party out for a night of pulling little pranks. They were pushing and shoving at each other, and one of them was easily identified as the lead instigator and likely leader of this band of miscreants.

  Catie was going by the seat of her pants now. An idea had come, and it was sort of like the days when she sat around the barracks playing cards. You reached a point where you either shoved all in, or you could tell yourself after the fact how you “shoulda, woulda, coulda” pulled off something epic.

  She changed course to intercept the band of young men who were hooting and hollering like they did not have a care in the world. They were paying her absolutely no mind at all, and she hoped that continued to be the case until she was right on them.

  At last they were less than a few strides away. Catie had stopped walking and now stood planted in the very center of the sidewalk. One of them finally noticed and elbowed the others.

  The group slowed, but they did not actually show signs that they intended to stop.

  “Afternoon, ma’am!” one of the young men finally said, knuckling his forehead and acting as if he might be tipping the hat he was not wearing.

  “Who is the leader?” Catie asked. She folded her arms across her chest and widened her stance just a little.

  The group of four finally stopped, and the one that had been carrying on the loudest (as well as being the one that she had guessed to be the leader) stepped forward from the bunch. He shot a look of warning over his shoulder to the others and then made a show of wiping the huge grin from his face.

  “That would be me, ma’am.” He had a tooth missing in front and a nasty scar that looked like it came from a blade running across his face. She could actually see where the weapon had jumped a bit when it hit his nose.

  “And how was that decision made?” Catie made her voice as pleasant as possible. This only seemed to confuse the young men; more specifically, their leader seemed at a total loss.

  At last he found his voice. With a slight smile that was actually made all the more charming somehow by his scar causing his left eye to crinkle around the edges, he replied, “I called it and nobody else argued.”

  “So you didn’t have to fight the old leader or anything like that?”

  “This ain’t The Lion King, lady. We aren’t a bunch of Old World gang bangers or anything like that.”

  “So what are you then?”

  That seemed to confuse the young man even further and Catie pressed. “Do you choose when to go out, or are you sent?”

  “Who the hell are you, lady” one of the young men blurted. “Ain’t no more newspapers, so you ain’t a reporter.”

  “You need some help with your grammar, kid,” Catie shot back, taking her eyes off the leader for just a second to address the one who spoke, but then she went right back to her informal stare down of the young man seemingly in charge. “So…how do you guys decide what you are doing?”

  “You’re that lady we carried back last night,” the leader said, smacking his forehead. “Hey, we didn’t do nothin’ but what we was told. And nobody in my group had anything to do with dosing your team. We just cuffed them all up. Them two big fellas actually did the injections.”

  “Hell, I woulda got the shot a second time if one of them guys would have turned and shoved that needle my way,” another of the men said with obvious awe leaking from his words.

  “What if I told you that I wanted you to do something for me?” Catie asked casually.

  “We’d have to clear it with the boss,” the leader answered matter-of-factly. “As it is, we gotta at least tell him about this little meeting.”

  “And what if I told you that there might be a new boss giving orders soon?” Catie let the silence last for as long as she dared. The longer she gave these guys to process what she was saying, the more likely that one or all of them might do something crazy. “Are you guys happy being the only ones having to go out? The only ones who have to take the risks while everybody else sits here safely in their little homes?”

  “We get taken care of,” the leader said stiffly. “And we can even turn down a mission if we think it is too hairy.”

  “But you are still the only ones doing all the dirty work.”

  “And like I said,” the leader began to emphasize his words, “we get taken care of very well for our troubles.”

  “I think the lady is trying to say that you guys don’t have to go it alone anymore,” Melvin said as he stepped around the corner.

  Catie shot the man a questioning look and he made a sad shake of his head. Catie’s eyes flicked to the large bag on the man’s belt. The stain at the bottom was wet and a drop fell to the sidewalk and left a small red circular splat.

  “But…” the
leader started. His mouth clicked shut when Marty came around the corner to join his brother.

  Catie took in the full vista of her surroundings. So far, nothing was any different than it had been ten minutes ago; at least not outwardly. However, in that span of time while she visited with Grand mama Abagail, a great deal had changed.

  “You boys have a choice,” Catie locked down her emotions and affected her best imitation of a drill instructor from boot camp. “You can either climb on board and take choice seats at the new table…or…” She glanced at Melvin who was already reaching inside the bag.

  15

  Bringer of Death

  I could hear those amazingly loud noisemakers in the distance. Glancing up the road a ways, it was obvious that the army of undead on my heels could hear it as well. They were still advancing, with me having long since slipped from sight. This was the first real test and it had passed. The zombies were rounding a corner and now they were orienting on the direction the sound was coming from.

  Kayla had sped away on her bike several minutes ago. Her report was that a patrol had spotted Cricket’s mob a little later than expected and that had forced them to react in haste. The patrols were being called back by the use of a series of flags. That might prove to be a small problem.

  Nat had spied the three person group moving along a ridge about a half a mile or so away. If they spotted our zombies too soon, then it was possible that both groups could be diverted and our work would prove all for naught. We had made it over a fence and ran through what looked to me like a car graveyard. I recognized the vehicles for what they were, but somebody had actually taken the time to stack them up; several cars on top of each other—and in fairly neat rows. It was actually kind of creepy looking.

  When we reached the other side, we could hear the patrol talking amongst themselves as they rode along. One of them was saying something about staying alert since they were “veering close to the Island City settlement where people kept turning up missing.” That statement struck me as odd since, if they were indeed missing, then how were they actually turning up?

  Nat held up a hand in the universal sign for us to stay put and then climbed up one of the stacks of defunct automobiles. She reached the top and then pointed to me and then to the stack to my left. At first I thought she was perhaps crazy and thought I was going to climb one of those towers of scrap just as she had done a moment before. I stood there for a minute, just staring up at her until she made the same gesture much more emphatically.

  I was reluctant at best as I began my ascent. Everything was going fine until I looked down. It is one thing to be on a ladder or something that is designed for you to climb; it is quite another to be holding on to some rusty bumper from whatever the hell a Ford Taurus is and be twenty or so feet off the ground.

  Once I was able to open my eyes again, I got up on top of the cursed piece of junk and laid down flat on the hood or roof, or whatever the hell they call it. I shot what I hoped was a nasty look over to Nat, but she either did not take it as intended or could care less that my eyes were sending toxic daggers at her from across the open expanse.

  She had her crossbow ready and signaled to me that she was shooting at the one on the left. Either that or she was swatting at a fly. I took a deep breath and tried to focus my energy on aiming at the rider on the right. Whoever killed her target first could deal with the one remaining.

  That was my thought all the way until Kayla came racing around a corner about a block in front of the riders. They were pretty damn quick to react despite appearing to be in conversation as they were heading back to camp. Suzi would probably have been pleased with their reaction all the way up to the point where two of them took a bolt in the middle of the back. Mine fell from the saddle and landed awkwardly. Even from up on my perch, I could tell that a neck should not turn quite that far.

  Kayla saw the horses coming and did the smartest thing she could do; she dumped the bike. Her feet were moving even before they hit the ground and she bounded towards the fence to a back yard that looked like the owners had been really into palm trees.

  I was pleased with how fast I was able to reload despite my fear of sliding off and plummeting to my death. Still, Nat was faster. Her bolt caught the third rider just ahead of mine. The second rider fell, but unfortunately, the one that Nat shot first was still in the saddle and obviously aware that he or she was under attack. The horse had taken off and did not even slow as it passed by where Kayla had just vaulted that fence and landed in the back yard with impressive grace.

  I reloaded, but it was pointless. The rider had taken a corner, and even if he or she had continued straight ahead, there would have been little to no chance I could have hit the target. The effective range had been surpassed by then.

  Nat was already scrambling down her tower of cars. My trip down was not nearly as quick or graceful and I had to run to catch up to where Nat was already talking to Kayla who had climbed back over the fence to meet us in this little alley or whatever was running between the junkyard and the row of houses that bordered it.

  “…got away, but that won’t matter at this point,” Nat was saying as Kayla kept glancing over her shoulder in the direction that the zombie horde was coming from.

  Their moans were carrying on the breeze and I could tell that she was more than a little bit nervous. I had to remind myself that she was not used to being outside the walls. Not that I was some sort of seasoned veteran, but I still had flashes of Platypus Creek before it had become the walled community that we knew as our home. Not to mention the fact that the last several days had numbed me considerably.

  In the distance, I could hear the noisemakers being employed to distract the herd that Cricket had led. I looked back the way our smaller group was coming from just as they rounded this last corner. From here, we would be leading them down through what was once the heart of La Grande. Most if not all of the buildings had been stripped, and many were either collapsing, burnt down to a charred skeletal frame, or outright leveled over the years of neglect and harsh weather. Once we reached the end of this old junkyard, the zombies were on their own, so to speak. We were now supposed to break to the right and hook back up at the walls of Island City where Cricket and his group were going to meet up with us. That was where my plan differed from the norm. I hope that Kayla played along; we hadn’t really had the chance to discuss this next part.

  “You guys go on ahead, I want to stay here just a bit longer and be sure,” I suggested.

  “That isn’t the plan,” Nat said with a dismissive wave. “The herd is moving right for them, and by the time they realize this group is coming, they won’t have enough time to deal with it.” Nat turned and looked back towards the tent city that was Suzi’s camp and planted her hands on her hips. “I just do not understand why they never made the move to occupy Island City. There are a lot of living people in that camp, but no more than four or five thousand at the most. The zombies will be too much. They will have no choice but to run. And that is going to cost them in gear, because they aren’t ready to move. This just does not make sense.”

  That last part of her monolog was more to herself than anything. In fact, I don’t know if she was even aware that she was saying it out loud.

  “Yes, well, as I said, I will catch up to you in a bit.”

  I started to walk away and choked back a grimace as Kayla hurried to fall in beside me. It wasn’t that she was not welcome. She had proved to be a solid companion up to this point, but what I had planned next was going to require me moving fast and not being able to take even a second to watch over her.

  “We are in this until the end,” Kayla whispered. “Don’t even think about going off by yourself.”

  “Okay,” Nat moved around us in a hurry, “what is going on?”

  “I don’t have time for this,” I said, pushing past the woman.

  Or, at least that had been my intention. Nat grabbed my arm and spun me back to face her.

  “You
have kept whatever this little secret is of yours long enough. Cricket likes you. He trusts you. He put his ass on the line for you. Now, you can go on and do whatever it is that you have in mind, but you are going to tell me what it is before I let you go. He deserves that much. We all do for that matter.”

  I glanced at Kayla who only shrugged. I turned back to Nat and explained about Jackson. I did not go into a lot of detail, but I at least explained that not all of us had escaped. I had to try and see if there was any way that I could rescue him.

  “That is pretty stupid,” Nat said when I finished.

  I expected any number of responses, but that had not been one of them. Not that I completely disagreed with her assessment. I knew what my limitations were as far as this little rescue mission was concerned. I hoped that I had the sense to know it was entirely hopeless before I slid past the point of no return. I wasn’t entirely confident of that possibility, but I could still hope. It wasn’t like I wanted to die. I knew that going after Jackson had almost no chance, but if I would have just given up on him like the others, then his slim chance would become none.

  “I’m not throwing my life away, sorry, kid,” Nat said.

  I was okay with that response. Apparently Kayla wasn’t.

  “Nobody asked you,” the girl snapped, shoving her back. “You go back to your little gang and keep hiding in the shadows while that army comes in and takes the town that your people worked hard to create. You let those piles of dead bodies rot and become fertilizer without trying to do anything in response.”

  “We’ve done plenty,” Nat shot back. “We’ve killed thirty or forty of their patrols so far, not that I have to explain myself to you.”

  “Can we do this later?” I asked, stepping between the two before somebody threw a punch.