THE LAST TOWN #6
SURVIVNG THE DEAD
By Stephen Knight
© 2017 by Stephen Knight
dramatis persona
Single Tree, California
Barry Corbett, billionaire resident of Single Tree, California
Gary Norton, movie producer originally from Single Tree
Max Booker, mayor of Single Tree
Roxanne Booker, Max’s wife
Chief Greg Grady, Single Tree police chief
Danielle Kennedy, waitress and former Marine
Hector Aguilar, pharmacy owner and member of the Single Tree town council
Gemma Washington, member of the Single Tree town council
Jock Sinclair, brash British television journalist
Meredith Sinclair, Jock’s wife, former fashion model
Walter Lennon, head of Corbett’s security detail
Victor Kuruk, leader of a Native American tribe living on a reservation next to Single Tree
Suzy Kuruk, Victor’s niece and tribal reservation police officer
Officer Mike Hailey, Single Tree police officer
Officer Santoro, Single Tree police officer
Officer Whitter, Single Tree police officer
Officer John Lasher, Single Tree police officer
Arthur Norton, Gary’s father
Beatrice Norton, Gary’s mother
Estelle Garcia, Single Tree resident
Martin Kennedy, Danielle’s father
Raoul Salcedo, diner owner
Jason Donner, short order cook
Ernesta, Single Tree Pharmacy employee
Lou, Single Tree Pharmacy pharmacist
Rod Cranston, Single Tree airport manager
Enrico, Single Tree airport FBO employee
Randall Klaff, construction foreman
Danny Tresko, construction foreman
Chester Dawson, construction worker
Jose Ramos, construction worker
Bill Rollins, trucker
Stillson, Corbett’s security team
Holgan, Corbett’s security team
Mendoza, Corbett’s security team
Boomer, Corbett’s security team
Browning, Corbett’s security team
Los Angeles, California
Detective III Reese, LAPD
Patrol Sergeant Bates, LAPD
Detective I Reneee Gonzales, LAPD, Reese’s partner
Detective II Jerry Whittaker, LAPD, Reese’s partner
Captain Miriam Pallata, commanding officer of the LAPD’s North Hollywood Station
Captain Marshall, Pallata’s predecessor
Lieutenant Newman, LAPD
Detective II Marsh, LAPD
PO Kozinski, LAPD
Connor Bay, LAPP skipper of Dive Boat One
Sergeant Manalo, LAPD
Lieutenant Colonel James Morton, battalion commander, California Army National Guard
Sergeant Kidd, enlisted noncommissioned officer
Captain Bobby Narvaez, company commander, California Army National Guard
First Sergeant Plosser, company NCO, California Army National Guard
Jed Simpkiss, helicopter pilot
Captain III Fontenoy, commanding officer of Wilshire Station
Lieutenant Toomey, Wilshire Station, LAPD
Lieutenant Robert Robbins, Wilshire Station, LAPD
Others
Clarence Doddridge, convict
Auto, convict
Big Tone, convict
Shaliq, convict
Bruce, convict
SINGLE TREE, CALIFORNIA
The zombies came over the walls like some sort of putrid deluge, a tidal wave of necrotic flesh animated only by a mindless directive to feed, to consume, to frenzy. Without reason, without intellect, without even the most basic component necessary for human existence—a developed sense of fear—the hordes ignored everything but their desire to rend the flesh from the bones of the living. There was no parlay, no chance at negotiation. The gates of hell had been opened, and it seemed that Satan himself was intent on claiming Single Tree as his next domain.
Hell had truly come to Earth.
Gary Norton stared up at Barry Corbett, staring into the tall, old man’s eyes. Or, as per usual, his mirrored sunglasses. Norton saw his reflection in the lenses, gaping back at him like a fish out of water, and it pissed him off.
“Take off your God damn sunglasses!” he snapped.
Corbett pulled off the sunglasses with a thin smile. His blue eyes gleamed brilliantly in the light of the day. “Sure thing, though I’m surprised you want to stare lovingly into my eyes, Norton. But then and again, you’re one of those Hollywood types, so you’re at least partially effeminate. Happy now?”
Norton glared up at the billionaire. “Repeat what you just said.”
Corbett blinked. “What, about you being effeminate?”
“About your fucking plane, you patrician prick!”
“Oh. That.” Corbett looked up as another volley of gunfire cut off any further reply. He turned and scanned the area. The defenders atop the inner wall were working overtime, hammering at what could only be another building mound of zombies. Metal twinkled in the sunlight as cartridges rained down from the fighting positions overhead. Thousands of them already littered the ground at the base of the wall.
“Yeah, it’s not the most elegant solution, but I didn’t have time to plan for something more elaborate,” Corbett said, raising his rough voice over the din. “It is what it is. It’s the best I can do.”
“You call ditching your jet in the Pacific a solution?” Norton shot back. “I thought you were smart, Corbett. Guess I got played just like everyone else in this town—you’re super-rich, but you’re dumb as a fucking post, aren’t you?”
“Look, Norton—”
“Look, Corbett, how many people are going to survive a ditch in the ocean?” Norton was on a tear now, like he hadn’t been in a long time. He was frightened, yes; more frightened than he’d ever been in his entire life. But he was also furious, with Corbett and with himself, for actually believing that the billionaire could save the town. They’d been in contact with the dead for only a few hours, and already, everything was going to shit in a handbasket. Norton had believed that wouldn’t happen. Hell, he’d help sell the plan to the entire town, and now Corbett’s contingency plan was to load up a sixty-five-million-dollar plane with people and ditch it into the Pacific, presumably somewhere near Norton’s yacht.
About a twelve on the What the Fuck Scale, if you ask me.
“What’s a G650’s stall speed—a hundred fifty knots? That’ll be like driving it right into a brick wall!” Norton shouted. He sensed Lennon tensing up beside him, while that fool Sinclair recorded the entire thing on Norton’s own camera, smiling as he peered into the viewfinder. “I know Gulfstream builds top-shelf product, but it’s a fucking airplane, not a tank—aluminum, titanium, all that lightweight composite? Yeah, it’ll hold up just fucking great once it hits the first wave, then disintegrates as it rolls across the wave tops. I’ll just be fishing bodies out of the water, unless your pilot’s name is Chesley Sullenberger!”
“Norton, calm down,” Corbett said.
Norton pointed a finger at his parents, standing nearby, watching him go head-to-head with Corbett. “You want me to entrust you with their lives? What the hell, Barry, you overdose on Viagra?”
“Norton!” Now Corbett was pissed, and he made the mistake of reaching for Norton’s shoulder. Norton snatched the man’s hand in a perfect aikido wrist lock, twisting just hard enough to make Corbett’s eyes widen in shock and pain. Lennon reached for him t
hen, and Norton stepped toward him, pulling Corbett with him, as he snapped out with his free hand, slamming Lennon right in the center of his chest protector with a quick iron hand technique. Lennon floundered backward a couple of steps, but recovered quickly. His face was all hard angles as he reached for the pistol at his side.
“Tell your pet dog to go fuck himself, or I’ll break your wrist,” Norton told Corbett. His voice was practically a snarl.
Corbett looked at Lennon. “Walt, I think he probably means it. Stand down.”
“Like hell,” Lennon said. “We have other pilots.” He pulled his pistol and pointed it right at Norton’s head.
“Gary!” Norton’s mother shouted as his father fumbled with the rifle in his hands.
“Everyone calm down!” Corbett roared. “Lennon! Do as I tell you!”
Lennon did not relent, at least not until the ground erupted all around him. Norton didn’t flinch, though both his parents screamed as a rifle rolled a rapid cadence. Lennon remained motionless while he was pelted by dry soil and dust courtesy of Danielle Kennedy. She stood twenty feet away, leaning into her rifle. Her dark hair was matted with sweat and grime, and dust and expended gunpowder speckled her face. Norton thought she was still beautiful.
“Lennon, you pull that trigger, your body’s going to be the second one to hit the deck,” she shouted. “I’ll make sure to tell your wife you died like a pussy, gunning down a man who wasn’t even holding a weapon.”
“Little gimp girl, you think you have what it takes?” Lennon said, his eyes never leaving Norton.
Danielle fired again, and Lennon let out a gasp when the round struck his pistol and ripped it right out of his hand. Norton heard a pale ping as the bullet slapped against the metal slide, sending the weapon spinning away to clatter across the ground. It was a true trick shot, something Norton had seen in countless movies. He’d been told by plenty of professionals that such shots were worthless in the real world.
“Yup,” Danielle said. “That’s pretty much my man there, so the next one’s in your head.”
“Stop it!” Corbett roared. “Everyone, just stop it!” He glared at Norton. “You’ve made your point—now let go of me!”
Norton relented, and Corbett massaged his wrist. He glared at Norton for a moment, then favored him with a grudging grin.
“Hadn’t expected that from you, Norton,” he said. “You really almost broke my wrist. Guess you’re really not a Hollywood pussy after all.”
“You’re not winning me over, old man,” Norton said.
Corbett looked over at Lennon, then at Danielle. Norton looked over at her as well. She still held her weapon on Lennon. Her dark eyes were steely and blank, like the eyes of a doll. Or a killer. He’d suspected she was made of strong stuff, but just how strong hadn’t been answered until right now. She was willing to kill another man … for him.
Have I really been sleeping with her? Norton asked himself. He was unworthy of such effort, such sacrifice.
“Dani, stand down!” Corbett said, iron in his voice.
“Sorry, Barry. No can do,” she replied. “I know what guys like Lennon can do.”
“Dani, lower the rifle. I’m good,” Norton told her.
“Yeah, but no,” Danielle said. “You guys go ahead and have your talk. I’ll just keep the iron sights on Lennon for a little while longer. You okay with that, Walt?”
“Knock yourself out, Marine,” Lennon said.
“Cool. Don’t move, and don’t wave any of your guys over, and you’ll be just fine.”
Corbett shook his head. “Fucking madness,” he said.
“You mean like all the zombies attacking the town?” Norton asked. “Barry, are you serious about ditching the plane?”
“It’s all I got,” Corbett said. “You in?”
“My parents? Dani and her dad?”
“Already told you I’d take care of them,” Corbett said.
“Yeah, about that—you also said you’d defend the town.”
Corbett sighed, exasperated. “God damn it, Norton, I’m doing the best I can! I prepared as well as I could in the time I had. Can’t you see that?”
Norton considered it for a moment. The truth of the matter was, he didn’t doubt Corbett’s desire to save the town. That it was falling so soon must have cut into what was left of the old man’s soul like a hot knife through butter.
“That still doesn’t explain why you think ditching a G650 full of people in the Pacific is a cool idea,” he said.
“You have to trust me on that,” Corbett said. “Like I told you, it’s all I’ve got right now.”
“Bullshit.”
Corbett cocked his head and looked at Norton speculatively for a long moment. He still rubbed his wrist with his hand. “You think I’ve got something up my sleeve?”
“Hell, yes.”
“I need your boat, Norton. It’s big enough. It’s tough enough. And you keep it in good shape. This is my final contingency, and it all hinges on you.” He jerked his craggy chin toward Norton’s parents and, beyond them, Danielle. “You want to see them safe and sound? I’m doing my best, but your yacht has to come into the picture. You do your part, I do mine. Otherwise, we’re all going to die here.”
“Who else lives, Corbett?” Norton asked, and as he spoke the question, he felt his guts reel. Who could make that kind of choice? he asked himself. Inside, Norton realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t pick or choose when it came to lives—there were more children in Single Tree than could fit in Corbett’s jet, and the thought of leaving any of them to die threatened to rock him.
Corbett’s eyes were clear when he answered. “Whoever’s left when it’s time to leave,” he said, and the gunfire conspired to make his voice small.
Norton nodded slowly. “So you want me to take a team of your guys with me to Ventura County and get my boat,” he said. “What if it’s not there? What if someone’s managed to steal it? What if it sunk? What if there are too many zombies to get to the marina?”
“Then we’re fucked,” Corbett said, “and we all die here.”
“You must be joking.” This came from Sinclair, still standing nearby with his borrowed camera. Everyone turned to look at him—expect for Danielle, Norton noticed, from the corner of his eye. She still had her rifle trained on Lennon.
Corbett turned and faced Sinclair and his camera directly. “No, Mister Sinclair. I am not joking. This is it for us.”
And as he spoke, the first zombie managed to clamber over the inner wall. It fell to the ground on the other side, striking the hard-packed desert floor like a bomb, sending up a mushroom cloud of dust. The impact was powerful enough to shatter bone …
… and still, the grotesquerie tried to crawl toward them. While one had popped right out of its skull, its eyes were lifeless and devoid of any humanity.
Danielle took her sights off Lennon long enough to fire a single round through its head.
Corbett turned back to Norton. “So, we done with the dramatics for the moment?”
Norton nodded. “Yeah.”
“You need to get to the airfield. Walt will take you.” Corbett swung toward Lennon. “We going to have any further friction here, Walt?”
“No, sir.”
Corbett grunted and swung back to Norton. “You need to be wheels up in an hour. Can you do that?”
“Hell, yes. But you need to fill me in on the details.”
“Okay, Norton. Okay.”
Hailey couldn’t believe the amount of zombies pouring over the walls. They were everywhere, and they showed no sign of stopping for anything. In the kill zone between the first and secondary walls, thousands of bodies lay motionless on the ground, while thousands more thrashed and struggled against grievous injuries that had halted their forward momentum. Those that could crawl over the bodies of their terminated brethren did just that, but they didn’t get far. They were eventually trampled into goo by the rising herd that followed them, roiling over the first walls and col
lapsing into the kill zone. Hailey fired as quickly and as accurately as he could, taking out one zombie every couple of seconds. There were less skilled shooters on the wall beside him, and they burned through their magazines at an alarming rate without racking up even a quarter of the kills Hailey had. That was going to be a problem, because unless they calmed down and started shooting straight, the stenches would form another mound. And if they penetrated the second wall, then it would only be a matter of time before they managed to overwhelm the deeper defenses, many of which were still being erected by Corbett’s work teams.
Yeah, a little late for that.
So Hailey kept at it, hammering the dead in the kill zone as efficiently as he could. Beside him, Suzy did the same, leaning into her rifle, sending projectiles into the kill zone in a controlled manner. Every shot resulted in a kill. Well, most of them, anyway. The kill zone was beginning to look more like a zombie mosh pit, and the targeting was complex as the zombies tripped and stumbled their way across the field of fallen dead. Even Hailey missed a few shots every now and then, just because his target suddenly fell right as he pulled the rifle’s trigger. And despite his best efforts, it was becoming a more regular occurrence.
The miniguns in the towers had fallen silent, and he wondered what would happen to the crews there. They had their personal weapons, but no means of resupply. If they used up their combat loads trying to help stem the tide, they’d be shit out of luck for the rest of the fight. And if the stenches somehow managed to start climbing the ladders that led to the towers, then it would be hand-to-hand combat. No one in their right mind would want to fight the dead mano y mano. That was their game, and they always won, especially since their kind didn’t seem to get tired. They just kept coming, until there was nothing left to come for.
“Mike, they’re mounding up to your right!” Suzy shouted over the gunfire. Hailey didn’t quite understand what she said at first—Did she just say, “Mike, they’re pounding up a fight”?—he leaned forward a bit and looked down the length of the wall. Sure enough, there were enough stenches over there to coalesce into a mound if they allowed it to happen. He slant-fired across the kill zone and took out several, and the nascent mound collapsed in a flurry of flailing pale limbs and tattered clothing. It wouldn’t be long before they reorganized and made another attempt. And it would eventually be successful; the available firepower on the secondary wall was much less than what had been stationed on the primary walls. Even though they had copious reserves, there were only so many fighting positions. And with all the targets vying for attention, the defenders on the wall couldn’t keep up with the rapid changes.
The Last Town (Book 6): Surviving the Dead Page 1