Dying Days Ultimate Box Set 1

by Armand Rosamilia

  “Can you walk on water?” he asked Shelly. “Are you going to produce a hot-air balloon and fly us over, or do you have some other miracle in mind?”

  “Geoff, the only hot air around here is you. If you’d contribute to the process instead of complaining all the time…”

  “The only reason I’m complaining is because you haven’t gotten us anywhere.”

  “Hasn’t gotten us anywhere?” Angela said. “She’s kept us alive and she got us this far.”

  “This far?” Geoff said. “This far? How far, it’s taken us three days to go ten miles and every time we turn a corner there’s more zombies.”

  “That’s not Shelly’s fault,” Angela said.

  “Well, it isn’t mine, either,” Geoff said.

  “Hey, look,” Marybeth said. “I think there’s a boat coming.”

  All eyes followed Marybeth’s point to the south as a sailboat emerged from the haze. Shelly turned to Geoff.

  “Happy?” she asked. “There’s your miracle.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Geoff said, the pitch of his voice rising by an octave. “You call that a miracle?”

  “No,” Shelly said. “I call it a boat, and it can get us out of here, unless you’d rather go back the way we came…I’m sure there are plenty of zombies waiting for you.”

  “How do you know they aren’t pirates?” Geoff asked.

  “Pirates? This is 2013, not 1713, you idiot.”

  “I don’t care what year it is, I’m not getting on that boat.”

  The others tried to talk Geoff into staying, but with a final look of contempt at Shelly, he stormed off, reaching behind to hike up his boxers as he went.

  “Should I go after him?” Cliff asked.

  Shelly shook her head in disgust. “You can try, but he’s a thick-headed ass; he’s not coming back.”

  They watched Geoff stomp across the grass toward the house with the swimming pool. Shelly was about to tell Cliff to go after him when Geoff stopped short. Fifteen feet in front of him, coming out of the trees, was a pack of zombies. Geoff looked to his right only to see more coming from that direction and the same when he looked to his left.

  “Shit,” Shelly and Cliff said at the same time.

  Geoff turned to run but his soggy boxers fell down around his knees. He stumbled and staggered for several steps until he lost his balance completely and fell to the ground. When he tried to stand, he tripped over something else and fell again. Before he could get to his feet, one of the zombies, a large black woman, was upon him. Geoff’s screams reached the group as several zombies took turns sinking their teeth into his flesh. One zombie ripped Geoff’s boxers off and tore at him while Geoff tried in vain to scramble away.

  “Oh my God,” Angela said as they watched in horror. “Is that zombie going to…”

  The group turned away in unison as the pack of zombies closed in on Jeff.

  “We need to signal that boat,” Shelly said over the wailing of Geoff’s screams.

  Stew

  The woman was still holding her eyes closed even after Stew and his wife Gerri pulled the beheaded zombie off of her.

  "Get up if you want to live," Stew finally said. He didn't waste time mincing words. If this woman wasn't in shock, it would be a miracle, but then anyone alive should be in shock at this point. If not for his deep military training, Stew thought he'd be a vegetable right now. And if it wasn't for his rock that was his wife Gerri, too.

  Gerri hooked the woman by her arms and pulled her up, dusting her off. "Honey, we need to move," she said in her Australian accent. "They are coming at us. What's your name? I'm Gerri and this is my husband Stew."

  "I'm Bethany," she said, spitting vomit from her mouth.

  "You smell like a brewery," Gerri said with a laugh.

  "I wish I were still drunk."

  "We can have this little girl chat once we secure the bank and free whoever is trapped inside," Stew said. He held a baseball bat in his hand now. "Are you friend or foe?"

  Bethany laughed humorlessly. "I'm breathing, so I'm on your side."

  "I hope you know how to use this," Stew said before tossing her the bat, which she caught. "I played a bit of softball while stationed in San Diego in the Navy."

  "Navy girl?" Stew smiled. "I'm Army. National Guard. Sorry to hear that." He stopped smiling. "Did they teach you how to run, or just how to take us from point A to point B so we could fight?"

  "Stew, enough," Gerri said. Gerri raised her baseball bat and clobbered a zombie moving up on them. "You can do your chest-thumping bit later, love."

  "You said someone was in the bank?" Bethany asked.

  Stew nodded and began to move; slicing through zombies, severing hands and necks. "We heard a scream a few minutes ago, right before you pulled up. Shawn and Becky went to help."

  "Who?"

  Stew stopped and cut down two zombies before him. "Some hippie couple."

  "They seem nice, although, Shawn smiles too much and his wife is too happy and chipper, which gets annoying." Gerri moved with her husband and the two of them cut a gash through the zombies as they came up on the bank itself.

  Stew knew Gerri had his back, and they were in tandem. Even though she had no military background herself, his wife had been trained by one of the best: Stew. He always remembered the hours spent on the gun range with her and she asked so many questions about his time overseas in the war, and she could tell some of the tales verbatim after hearing them so many times. She had a good head on her shoulders. If Stew wasn't in the midst of killing zombies, he'd lean over and kiss his wife.

  Shawn and Becky were on the edge of the zombie crowd, picking them off, one at a time, with the shovels they carried as weapons. But it was taking too long, and Stew could see cracks in the plate glass window of the drive-thru. It wouldn't be long before the zombies were into the bank. One of them, a young man, now slammed his head into the glass. Stew could see more cracks appearing.

  "Let's rock and roll," Stew said. "Before they breach the bank." He dove into the fray and smiled when Becky and Shawn joined in with renewed vigor. He knew Gerri was to his left, and was glad to see Bethany holding her own with the baseball bat.

  The zombies shattered the glass.

  "Get to the bank before they crawl in," Stew yelled. He didn't know who was inside or how many, but he'd clearly heard a woman screaming when they came upon the bank. So far, there hadn't been many opportunities to save anyone. The more people who died the more enemies they were forced to face.

  Stew stepped up and kicked one zombie down, hoping someone near him would finish it off. He wanted to barrel through the group as quickly as possible, but he wasn't quick enough. He saw two zombies pull themselves through the broken window, slicing their bodies up on the shattered glass, and disappearing inside.

  When he heard another scream, this time loud because of the distance and no more window, he didn't waste time cutting off heads. He simply used his military training to drop the zombies to the ground. "Kill them as they fall," he yelled to Gerri. He was glad to see Bethany was already doing it, too.

  Becky and Shawn drove a wedge through the zombies with them, and within minutes they had the drive-thru area clear, but more zombies were heading in their direction.

  "Follow me," Stew yelled to Shawn. Stew picked up a headless zombie and lifted it, putting it in the window so they could climb over it and not get cut up too much with the glass. The two men went inside the dark bank.

  "Hello?" Shawn yelled. "We're here to rescue you."

  "Then hurry it up," a woman's voice said from the lobby of the bank. "There are two of them in here and it's too dark to see them."

  Stew turned on his mag-light, shining it across the bank and on the backs of the two zombies who'd climbed inside. "Hey, over here."

  Behind the undead was a blonde woman and a man, both crouched behind a pile of furniture. She shielded her eyes but he didn't move.

  The two zombies turned and Shawn ran to them, d
riving one to the ground. Stew took his time, gauging the distance and making sure he had enough room to work. He swung the katana with a mighty swing, severing its head with one stroke. He kept the blade sharp.

  As Shawn bashed the head of the other zombie, Stew moved to the couple hesitantly. He didn't want any surprises, either from them or another enemy in the shadows. "Are you bitten?"

  "I'm not," the blonde said as she stood. "He's bleeding but I'm not sure if it's his blood or not."

  "Move away from him," Stew said. He stepped around the pile of chairs and tables. "Sir? Can you hear me?"

  The man was not moving, his eyes closed and his arms and upper torso were covered in blood.

  "What's your boyfriend's name?"

  The blonde laughed. "He's not my boyfriend. He was my boss here at the bank."

  "You've been here how long?" Stew asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure. Weeks or months, maybe? Since this began. There were fifteen of us in the beginning. We went across the street and raided the Publix and the Firehouse Subs as well as Pizza Hut. We had food and water stacked up in the break room. Mister Phillips said the drive-thru glass would hold and we barricaded the front doors and all the windows. Then we waited for this to end."

  "Where is everyone else?" Shawn asked.

  "A group went out for supplies and never came back." She closed her eyes and started to shake.

  "What's your name?" Shawn asked.

  "Barbara."

  Stew went through the rest of the bank with his katana and flashlight. The break room was filled with empty soda and water bottles and boxes of foodstuffs no longer containing food. A rat scurried out of sight behind a pile of cardboard and discarded plastic water bottles.

  "We need to move. Now," Stew said. He glanced at the bank manager. "I'll deal with him."

  "I don't think he was bit," Barbara said.

  "But are you sure?" Stew wanted to know. "Did you check him? How did he get blood on him in the first place?"

  "It all happened so fast," she said. "We sent Tony and Rachel out to find us a car."

  "Why would you do that?" Shawn asked. "What did you need a car for?"

  "We need some help out here," Gerri yelled into the window.

  Barbara and Shawn started to move to the broken window.

  "We'd decided it was time to leave. Our supplies were gone and we still had six mouths to feed. We decided to head out to Route 1 and go north. But when Tony came back inside he was sick, and he was hiding a bite on his hand. He turned on Rachel and us. Mister Phillips and I were the only two to survive." Barbara looked at her boss. "I'm really not sure how he got all the blood on him. It all happened so fast. The fight must have drawn all these other zombies."

  "Do you still have the car?"

  "I guess so." Barbara went to the counter and fished around through the debris, pulling out a keychain. "Yes! I do."

  Shawn clapped. "Then we can drive out of here."

  "Go help them clear the area and find the car. But we can really only go east, which is where the woman on the motorcycle came from. Tell her, if she has no objections, she can let me drive the bike on point. Everyone can cram into the car."

  Shawn started helping Barbara out the window when he stopped. "Let's go, Stew."

  Stew swung the katana in the air. "I have to take care of the branch manager."

  Barbara started to cry. "Please, no… I don't think he was bit."

  "We can't take the chance."

  David and Jill

  Nobody spoke as Shibumi limped north toward European Village. A slight breeze rattled the rigging and water slapped the hull; other than that the boat moved along in silence. The sun beat down on them, unmercifully, as they stood along the rails watching the banks.

  John Murphy shielded his eyes as he looked north.

  “Hey, I think I see some people up there,” he said.

  Ike and Darlene joined him and followed his point.

  “Yup,” Darlene said, “I count eight of them.”

  “And they see us,” Ike said. “A couple of them are waving.”

  “What should we do?” Angel asked.

  “We can’t leave them there,” Darlene said. “Look behind them.”

  The others saw the horde of zombies shuffling through the tall grass toward the people standing at the shore.

  “I can’t get Shibumi all the way in,” David said. “If we’re going to pick them up, we’ll need to use the dinghy.”

  “I’m on it,” Ike said, moving toward the stern.

  John and Brewski helped him lower the dinghy into the Intracoastal and moments later Ike had the inflatable craft rushing toward the shore.

  Ike wiped the salt spray off his Ray-Bans as the dinghy glided over the smooth surface of the Intracoastal. There wouldn’t be a lot of time for pleasantries once he reached the shore; the zombies were about fifty yards away from the people on shore. Timing it perfectly, Ike cut the engine and lifted it from the water, allowing the dinghy to coast to shore.

  “Quick,” he said the group. “Everybody in.”

  The first one in the boat was a tall blonde woman, who then turned to help the others aboard. As a pregnant woman took the blonde’s hand and climbed aboard, there was a popping sound, followed by a hissing.

  Everybody turned to see an arrow piercing the rear of the dinghy…and a zombie standing in the water behind the craft.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” Ike said, searching for a weapon and cursing himself for not bringing one.

  The zombie stood in knee-deep water for several seconds before he gradually fell forward with a splash. The zombie corpse drifted away with an arrow protruding from the back of its skull. Ike looked toward the boat to see John Murphy standing on the bow. Murphy held his hands out and shrugged an apology about the dinghy. Ike shrugged his acceptance of the situation…knowing that John had no option than to fire at the zombie, even if his first shot had been wide of the mark.

  Ike turned back to the others.

  “It’ll still float, the bladders are compartmentalized, but it won’t hold everybody. We’ll have to do it in two trips.”

  Ike got four of the women into the boat.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Ike said to the rest of the group. “Just hang on.”

  “Not like we have a choice,” One of the men said.

  The dinghy moved slower then usual, but it got them to Shibumi just the same. Angel and David leaned over the rail to help people aboard.

  “Sorry about the arrow,” John said to Ike.

  “No worries,” Ike said. “We’ll make it work.”

  As he turned to return to shore, his eyes locked with Angel’s. No words were spoken, but there was a great deal said. He grinned and winked at her and she smiled widely. Ike twisted the throttle on the outboard and the wounded dinghy lurched forward clumsily.

  As he approached the shore, Ike saw the zombies drawing close to the group, who had begun to wade into the Intracoastal to maintain some separation. A tall man stood in front watching the water for submerged zombies and Ike tried to coax as much speed from the dinghy as it could handle.

  The zombies were 50 feet from the group when Ike beached the dinghy. The two men, one white, one black, jumped in and helped two women aboard. Ike shoved off and hopped in just as the first few zombies splashed toward them.

  The black man sat in the front on hyper-alert. His head twitching back and forth like a manic mouse in a room full of cats. He fidgeted non-stop.

  “Hey,” Ike called to him. “Sit still, we have enough problems with a compromised boat, we don’t need you rocking it.”

  The man licked his lips and his eyes darted from Ike to the zombies wading into the Intracoastal behind them, then to the water in front of them.

  “These tings,” he said with a Jamaican accent, “dey be swimming now, eh? Wot we gon do to get ‘way from dem?”

  “What you’re going to do,” Ike said, “is sit still. Once we get to the boat
, everything will be fine, but we have to get there first.”

  The Jamaican managed to control himself for the remainder of the trip, but, when the dinghy bumped into Shibumi’s hull, he stood quickly and scrambled to get aboard the vessel. Angel reached out a hand to him, he latched onto it and tried to pull himself out of the raft. Angel’s 110 pounds were not enough to resist his 175 pounds and he pulled her down instead of pulling himself up. She crashed into him, knocking him backward into the other man, who dominoed into one of the women and they all tumbled into the water.

  “Jesus Christ,” Ike said.

  He grabbed the remaining woman by the waist and hoisted her into David’s waiting hands. Darlene and John were already dropping life rings and ropes into the water. The Jamaican splashed his way to the closest rope and hauled himself up, where John yanked him out of the water. He immediately snatched a towel from Jill and sat on a bench drying himself. Darlene looked at him with a mixture of contempt and confusion.

  “Don’t worry,” she said to him. “We got this; you just make sure your dreads are dry.

  “Okay, den,” he said.

  The woman’s scream drew everybody’s attention. She was splashing wildly and struggling to keep her head above water as something tried to drag her down.

  “Cheryl!” the man screamed as he dove under.

  Angel swam over and wrapped her arms around Cheryl’s torso. Her mind played a bizarre image of herself and a zombie engaged in a tug-of-war…with Chreyl as the rope.

  Angel’s legs kicked wildly below the surface, but she was losing the battle.

  “Hang on,” Ike yelled as he dove from the dinghy.

  The visibility under the murky water was less than five feet and blurry. He saw a body struggling ahead and kicked to it. He fought to release the zombies hold on the man, who had already been bitten in the face. The zombie refused to relinquish his new found meal. Ike saw the futility in trying to secure the man’s release and kicked away to find Cheryl.

  The turbulence created by the struggle drew him to her, but he needed air before he could engage the zombie. He kicked to the surface to fill his lungs and saw Angel struggling to keep Cheryl above water.