Dead State (Book 5): Evolved

by Shupert, Derek

  Bill hops down into the adjoining passageway. Water splashes as he stands up. He shines his light down both sections of the tunnel.

  Duke jumps out, followed by me. My boots submerge up to my ankles in water. At least, that’s what I hope it is. I don’t dare examine the contents closer.

  The grinding of the steel shelf being shuffled about by the infected funnels out to where we are. They’ll be inside soon.

  Bill trains both the Maglite and pistol to his left. “This way then, I guess.”

  He heads out at a brisk pace with us close behind. We’re moving at a good clip, the human waste sloshing over our boots and pants. It builds to a stifling stench the more we churn the water. Acid builds in my throat, and my stomach is on the verge of ejecting any small bits of food that reside in its depths.

  “Don’t blow chunks, James,” Bill hisses. “If you do, I’ll spew as well.”

  I bite back the sickening sensation, and spit the acidic flavor from my mouth. “We’re going to need to find an exit soon, or I’m going to puke whether you like it or not.”

  Junction after junction is taken as if Bill knows where he’s heading. I’m doubtful.

  The yowls from the chasers bounce off the walls and trail behind us like the unholy stench that clings to the inside of my nose. No matter how hard and fast we trudge through the human waste, their groans aren’t too far away.

  Water splashing in our wake nabs my attention. An unsettling sensation washes over me as if something is close. I stop and come about-face. The flashlight sweeps the dank tunnel for the source of the disturbance as the pistol follows in sync. There’s nothing there. No pale, frail frame within the depths of the blackness charging at us.

  Did I imagine it all?

  It could’ve been us causing the noise, and my mind tricked me into thinking it was the chasers. It felt so real, though. God, I can’t wait to get out of this hellish labyrinth and back to the surface.

  “Not only is the smell killing my stomach, but it’s also damaging my—” I turn around and find that Bill and Duke are gone. Vanished. I don’t see or hear them anywhere.

  Oh no. Where’d they go?

  Panic floods my body as the light shines in every direction. I’m all alone in the sewer with a horde of infected souls hunting me down. At least there’s no creepy clown down here.

  “Guys,” I yell out without thinking. I seal my lips and curse under my breath for being stupid.

  Christ, James, why don’t you just say it a bit louder so the ravenous fiends chasing you know where you are?

  Bill and Duke must not have noticed that I stopped, and they kept moving. Depending how far they’ve gone and the number of tunnels they’ve taken, there’s no telling where they could be.

  Damn it.

  I can’t stand idle. It isn’t safe. I have to keep moving. I’ll run into them eventually, right?

  Heavy footsteps splash through the water in rapid succession. I can’t tell where it’s coming from, or if it’s even real. It sounds like it is, but who knows.

  With my boots submerged up to my ankles in fecal matter, I spin around and check each tunnel for the threat that’s closing in. Each is cleared with no friends or foes in sight. Yet, the sound persists and is almost on top of me.

  I’ve checked all of the tunnels, haven’t I?

  I shine the light to the ether of blackness to my right, and discover a chaser rushing headlong at me. With arms reaching for my body and soul, it’s blood-stained mouth chatters wickedly.

  Oh hell!

  I squeeze the trigger. The pistol barks, which sounds more like a canon going off in these close quarters. The white flash from the muzzle is brief. It takes mere seconds for the slug to find it’s mark in the chaser’s right shoulder.

  The infected stumbles and falls face first into the human stew below. Its growls of aggravation are muffled by the sewage funneling into its mouth.

  I place another slug in the back of the chaser’s head as more splashing bears down on me. I hold fire and back-peddle away from the incoming threat.

  I’m back on the move, navigating the tunnels as best I can. I try to think like Bill would then realize that he was just as lost as I am now.

  Panic swallows me whole. My heart beats faster, and my palms become sweaty. I feel as though I’m doing nothing more than running in circles. Every tunnel I dart down looks the exact same. I haven’t been able to find any distinguishing attributes to tell me if I’m chasing my tail.

  Light from above breaks through the ceiling and illuminates the murky water. Within the damp chambers, its brilliance is most welcome.

  I sprint to the light with the hopes that it’s a way out of here, and that Duke and Bill are waiting for me up top. I bask in the warm glow that slices through the steel grate from the street. I scour for a ladder to climb out, but find nothing to scale.

  The yowls from the creatures draw closer and send the tiny hairs on the back of my neck on end. Like a pack of hungry wolves, they aren’t going away until they have taken down their prey.

  The squelch of steps through the sewage causes my heart to skip a beat. I force my legs to flee the light and enter the dark abyss.

  There has to be a way out of this maze. The longer I’m down here, the greater the risk I run of meeting a violent demise.

  Junction after junction is taken with little thought or planning. Much like Bill, I’m in survival mode now.

  “James,” a voice whispers from the darkness.

  I stop on a dime, and search for the source. It’s low and muffled.

  “Bill? Is that you?” I whisper back.

  The grunts and howls from the infected hot on my heels push me to continue on, but I could’ve sworn I heard Bill’s deep voice.

  The light sweeps every which way, but comes up empty. My voice raises out of pure necessity to survive now. If it was indeed him, he needs to speak up and let me know.

  “Where the hell-”

  A hand clamps over my mouth, and drags me into a nearby tunnel as I thrash and fight to get away.

  “James, it’s Bill. Settle down and stop making so much damn noise!” It takes a moment for the fight in me to subside and my mind to recognize Bill’s gruff tone. “I’m going to remove my hand. Don’t make a single sound, all right?”

  I comply with a nod.

  Bill removes his large hand from my lips.

  I spin around and shine the light in his face. “Christ! Are you trying to scare me to death? Where the hell did you go?”

  Duke is by his side, quiet as church mouse. He saunters over and licks my hand as I run a hand over his head.

  Bill looks past me to the edge of the tunnel we’re hiding in. His face floods with concern as he motions for me to lower the light from his face.

  “We got separated. I didn’t realize you had stopped. We’ve been looking for you. Now, turn that damn thing off before they pick it up.”

  I fumble the flashlight in my hand while trying to find the switch to shut it off. The chasers’ panting is clear as day now. They’re within range of us.

  I thumb the button, and snuff the light. Standing in the darkness, we remain silent and still with only the thumping of my heart pounding in my ears. The disturbance of the sewage signals the infecteds’ position. Sounds like multiple feet moving through the water. It isn’t rushed or frantic, but more controlled as if they’re walking. Hunting even.

  My eyes have adjusted somewhat to the dark. Without the use of the flashlight, I’m able to pick up subtle shapes and outlines of the tunnel’s walls. I peer over my shoulder and past Bill to the endless void of blackness.

  “Can we not go that way?” I whisper.

  Bill shakes his head which is hard to make out in the darkness. “There’s a steel grate that’s welded in place. Can’t be budged.”

  A mass of ghastly gray bodies appears at the end of the tunnel. They look like some sort of fiendish creature stalking the depths of the sewers. Bits of their movement blend together, ma
king it difficult to gauge their numbers. They grunt, and snarl at one another as they pause.

  Duke stays silent and planted by my side. A tremor courses through his body that indicates that he’s ready to defend us if need be.

  The chasers’ yowls echo down the tunnel. I gulp down the large lump of fear in my throat. My finger brushes over the trigger of the gun by my side.

  A portion of the pack peels off and vanishes from our sight while one stays behind. The chaser stands before us.

  The vibrations in Duke’s throat rises with every second the chaser lingers. It huffs and shifts its head from side to side while testing the air. One of the good things about being in the sewer is that our natural scent is masked by the stench of the waste we’re surrounded by. I don’t think the infected can detect us with the smell being so strong.

  The chaser steps up into the tunnel. I feel Bill’s arm rest on my shoulder. His pistol is trained at the creature, and his arm doesn’t twitch with doubt. It takes a single step farther before the other infected call out and stop the chaser cold.

  A grunt spills from its mouth as its turns about and dashes out of the tunnel. That was close.

  The pent up air rushes from my lungs as I sigh in relief. Bill removes his arm from my shoulder. He brushes past me and heads for the end of the tunnel. Me and Duke keep a few paces behind as he stops just shy of the opening.

  He stands still and tilts his head to the side. The chasers have moved on, for now.

  He turns to the side and waves his arm, I think.

  “All right. Come on. I think we’re good.” Bill’s Maglite ignites and slices through the darkness. He keeps it trained to the sludge below and steps out. He turns to either stretch of the sprawling tunnels as me and Duke emerge from the chamber.

  “There has to be one of those manhole cover things around here somewhere,” I say. “I came across a drain a few tunnels back, but haven’t noticed any ladders or other ways to the surface.”

  Bill nods. “This time, we stick together. No splitting up. If you have to stop, say it.”

  He doesn’t have to tell me twice. That won’t happen again. “Yeah. I learned my lesson.”

  Bill advances forward with Duke crouched low behind him. We don’t run this time, but do move at a good clip. The commotion created by splashing through the water will only offer an advantage to the chasers in tracking us down.

  I can hear the infecteds’ growls echoing down the tunnels. Pinpointing their exact whereabouts is difficult at best.

  We hook a right, and discover a plot of light beaming from an opening up ahead. It isn’t much, but enough for us to warrant investigating further. It could be a way out of this horrid place.

  Bill approaches the mouth of the tunnel with his pistol trained and ready. My head sneaks back over my shoulder to ensure we aren’t being flanked by any dead. I spy no movement within the vast void of nothingness.

  Bill holds us up, then peers around the curved bend of the concrete.

  “Well?” I probe.

  He looks to me and grins. “I think we found our ticket out of here. There’s a steel gate of some sort halfway down the tunnel, but it looks partially open.”

  The water ripples around my boots, even though we’re not moving. That’s strange. Hands latch onto my lower legs and pull. I lose my balance, and fall face first to the filthy water.

  Duke barks as Bill shines the Maglite behind me. “James!”

  I’m dragged away through the water as both Duke and Bill give pursuit. My hands dive into the waste as my face treads the unholy stench. The tips of my fingers scrape along the concrete bottom as the infected snarl. I catch glimpses of Duke and Bill rushing after me.

  I kick and thrash my legs, fighting to break the hold of the two chasers who have me. They’re strong, and don’t appear to be letting go.

  A white flash catches my attention, followed by the ear-splitting sound of a weapon being fired. My left leg falls to the water. A thump splashes into the murk. I manage to flip over onto my back and strike the infected in the face with my free leg. It shrills, then reels from the blow. Dazed, is shakes its head and reaches for me.

  Bill pops off another round. The chaser’s head snaps back in a blink as it crumbles to the water.

  I’m pulled from the waste, and Bill looks me over. “You good?”

  I confirm with a nod as my hand brushes over my face. I sling the grime from my palm with a look of disgust. “I’m good. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  More chasers charge our way. We can’t see them yet, but their shrills and hastened pace becomes clearer with every passing second.

  We run for the chamber as fast as we can. My soaked clothes cling to me. The added weight feels like I’m running through mud.

  Bill skirts the edge of the opening with Duke galloping close behind. I never thought I’d be so happy to see daylight in my entire life. He stops at the rusted, steel gate and grabs the bars. He pulls, but the gate moves but a scant inch then stops.

  “Come on, come on,” I urge.

  The pistol shakes in my hand as the infected converge on our position.

  Bill jerks harder on the gate. The rust coated hinges squeal as he forces it toward the wall.

  “Come on!” he yells.

  Duke rushes through the gate followed by Bill.

  The infected breach the corner of the tunnel. They funnel into the small space as one massive blob of hate and rage. Their menacing wails merge as one deafening voice.

  I pick my targets at random, and open fire as I backpedal behind the safety of the steel gate. A mixture of upper torso and headshots sends the chasers in the lead crumbling to the water below. The infected trailing trample the fallen and maintain pursuit.

  The pistol clicks empty as Bill shoves past me. He grabs the gate, and yanks it shut as the chasers collide into the bars.

  “Christ almighty!” be bellows while steering clear of the chasers’ rapacious fingers.

  Every inch of the gate has rotting flesh smashed against its reddish-orange steel bars. Skeletal arms swing and reach for us with the hopes of snaring a loose piece of our clothing.

  I look to Bill who is next to me and starring at the dead trying to break through. “Will it hold?”

  He turns sharply about then shrugs. “It just needs to hold long enough for us to get out of here.”

  With their bodies pressed against the gate, they won’t be able to open it. I watch them for a hair longer to make sure it holds.

  Bill clears his throat. “You coming, or are you going to stand there and tease them?”

  Funny.

  I back away from the gate and sneer. I turn to the mound of rubble that sits at the foot of a gaping hole in the ceiling. Bill and Duke are at the top, peering at me.

  Bill stretches out his hand and helps me up the slope of busted asphalt and concrete. We’re in the middle of a street now littered with bullet-riddled cars.

  “I never want to do anything like that ever again,” I grumble.

  “You survived, though, right?”

  We did by the skin of our teeth.

  “Sure.”

  Duke shakes the pooh water from his body. I wish I could do the same. I’m bathed in the filth of humanity from head to toe. I’d love nothing more than to have it washed off, but know that, for now, it isn’t going to happen.

  Bill presses the ridge of his hand just above his brow and scans over the buildings that line both sides of the street. He spins in a circle with his head tilted back.

  We’re surrounded by large-orange cones that have yellow caution tape fixed to the tips. I squint down the street as my eyes adjust from the darkness to the daylight. It takes a moment, but the subtle haze dissolves.

  I listen for any chasers who might be within earshot of us, but hear nothing more than the growls of the infected below.

  The city is silent—no hint or whisper of gunfire or other unsettling sounds to trigger my nerves. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thi
ng. Sometimes, the silence can be just as lethal as any noise.

  Bill smacks my chest with the back of his hand.

  I flinch, then cut my eyes at him. “What the heck, man.”

  He nods at the buildings in front of us. “There, near the corner just inside the alleyway.”

  I crane my neck, trying to spot what he’s found, but can’t seem to locate it. “What? I don’t see anything.”

  He grumbles, then leans toward me. “Don’t make it obvious you’re looking. You’ll scare him off.”

  Him?

  I look once more, a bit more discreet this time in search of the person who is watching us. It takes me a moment to spot the dark-brown hair poking out from the alleyway.

  “Who is it?”

  Bill cycles a round, then glances at the man spying on us. “Hive.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The mere mention of Hive floods my body with anger. I know I should be concerned for our safety, given what Bill has told me about the group, and the fact that he’s chambered a round in his pistol, but I can’t help but see red. Hive has taken the people who matter most to me in this world, and I want them back.

  I snarl and grit my teeth. My contempt for the depraved group of thugs is not well concealed. Not by a long shot.

  Bill looks to the rooftops of the buildings. He skims over them with a keen eye as I stare at the alleyway.

  “We have to play this smart if we’re going to make it out alive and find your friends,” he cautions. “The members of Hive are known for traveling in packs, so where there’s one, there’s probably more.”

  My fingers squeeze the grip of the handgun tighter. The blood coursing through my veins boils with contempt for the vile group. With the way I’m feeling, they’re going to need all of the men they can muster.

  I nod in the direction of the surly man who locks onto my gaze. “That piece of trash over there could be of use to us. I have questions and he’ll have the answers.”

  “Listen, I get it. I know how you’re feeling, but we need to—”

  That’s enough talking. It’s time for action.

  I take off in a dead sprint up the street while Bill is still speaking. Duke chases after me and matches my sprint stride for stride. The man ducks into the cover of the alley and vanishes from my sight.