DEAD Snapshot Box Set, Vol. 1 [#1-#4]

by Brown, TW

  “Who wants to volunteer to stay with the vehicles?” Joel asked. “I want one of my people here and one of the members of our new companions.”

  After a few moments of people looking back and forth at each other, Joel blew out an exasperated breath. “This isn’t some sort of a test. I won’t penalize anybody for staying here.”

  Finally, a young man stepped forward. Reggie pointed to a woman in his group and motioned for her to join the young man.

  With that, the rest of the bikers fell in with Joel’s group and started up the road. They crossed over to the side of the road where the smoldering ruins of Caesar’s Palace remained. The undead coming from the direction they were heading altered their course, some of them falling over when they tried to navigate the palm trees that marked the center of the road.

  “There’s no way we make it to your group up there without getting dirty,” Reggie said as he stepped in beside Joel, matching his stride as they headed into the parking lot that sat across an open drive that led to the main entrance of Caesar’s Palace.

  As if fate chose that moment to prove Reggie correct, there was the sound of breaking glass from just ahead and to their right. A horde of undead vomited from the main entrance and into the area where countless people had pulled in as they checked in for a vacation with hopes of striking it lucky.

  The group altered their course to intercept the undead. As they neared, Joel called out, “Try not to use any firearms unless it is a last resort. We don’t want to bring any more down on us.”

  “Or give away our position,” Reggie said in a whisper meant only for Joel to hear.

  Joel realized that, for all his dismissal of the undead as a legitimate threat, he hadn’t had that many encounters that he hadn’t gone into either in full control of the situation, or at least on the offensive. There was certainly a different feeling now that they were out in the open and reacting to the zombies. If there were only a few, then that would be one thing, but as Joel watched, more and more of them came streaming out of the shattered entrance to Caesar’s. The revolving doors must’ve been jammed with the things and finally given way at this exact moment.

  The first zombie he reached was exactly what he was used to when he encountered tourists any time he left his suite and filtered down to the ground level. The woman was at least a hundred pounds overweight and dressed in the remnants of gaudy, flashy clothing meant to give the appearance of wealth. When did rhinestones ever equate to monetary success or fashion sense, he wondered briefly as he drove his blade into her eye socket.

  The next couple were even worse in matching shirts. The man was easily six feet and sporting a beanpole physique. The woman was just over five feet, if that, and pushing two hundred pounds. That was always a dynamic that made him curious? Did the man simply have an amazing metabolism, or did the woman just eat that much more and get off her butt that much less? Whatever the case, both dropped just as quick when he drove his blade into their eye sockets. (He’d heard a lot of the individuals that made numerous runs out into the area for supplies saying that was the most efficient way to finish a zombie and had quickly adopted that method.)

  Only once did he find himself in the slightest bit of danger. He was finishing one of the undead and had wandered close to the entrance. There were decorative shrubs in place and one of the zombies had somehow drifted into the greenery unnoticed. It had lunged from the bush and caught Joel’s right arm just as he was pulling his blade free from his latest kill.

  The small Asian woman bit down before Joel could jerk free. Her teeth were not able to rip through the combination of a heavy leather jacket and all he suffered was a dull pain that would undoubtedly turn to a bruise. He was also surprised at the bite strength. He’d been in a few ugly hand-to-fights during his time in Vietnam. More than once, he’d been bitten in those fights. The first time had caught him entirely off guard. This was different somehow. He would reflect on it later when he could spare a part of his mind for it, but for now he filed it away that zombies obviously had improved bite strength.

  Jerking free, he used his left leg to sweep the zombie woman’s feet from under her. Stomping onto her chest, he pinned her to the ground and then brought his knife down to end her for good.

  At last they’d cleared the horde and Joel looked around to realize that they’d had to battle many more undead than he’d first thought. Either that, or there just looked like more with the bodies strewn about the ground. They hadn’t suffered a single casualty; that was the important thing at the moment. Just as they finished, Will and his group arrived with weapons drawn.

  “A little late for the party, Barnes,” Debra scoffed as she wiped off one of her sickle-shaped blades and returned it to a loop on her belt.

  “What the hell happened?” Will gasped as he took in the carnage scattered about.

  “They were probably all clustered at the front and the glass finally gave,” Joel said as he started toward the walkway that led over the street that was becoming even more congested with the walking dead. “But we need to get moving before we bring more of those bastards down on us.”

  The entire group didn’t seem to need to be told twice. They fell in and started up the stairs to the walkway. As they crossed over, a new burst of gunfire sounded from somewhere up ahead. The way noise bounced off all the tall buildings coupled with the unnatural silence that had fallen on the city, it was impossible to pin down the exact location, but Joel had no doubt they needed to head toward the remaining towers of the Signature Suites.

  “I think the best course of action would be to get to the monorail tracks and follow them. If it is safe enough, we could cover most of our distance up on those tracks with little chance of having to deal with any of that.” Joel waved his hands at the growing number of zombies filing onto the streets from behind what seemed like every vehicle and shadow. He had to wonder how they’d made the trip as far as they had with so little resistance.

  They reached the other side and hurried down the stairs to street level again. The stench of the growing numbers of zombies had become gaggingly thick by now and a couple of the bikers paused, hands on knees to wretch, the sound of liquid splattering the sidewalk adding to the hellish soundtrack of the moans of the nearing army of undead.

  Joel was now reassessing his dismissal of the undead as a threat. Anything by itself was not something he necessarily would be afraid of, but anything in great numbers was a different story. This was the strength of the zombie. They congregated and grew like a snowball being rolled in the yard to create the base of a snowman. In time, they would be too much…too overwhelming in their numbers. And while he was seeing some with massive injuries, he realized there was one thing he wasn’t seeing…decay. Biology would indicate that these things would have to eventually rot and just fall apart. It had been weeks, and some of these things looked like they’d been in the first group to fall. Their injuries were dried and the blood had turned almost completely black. Even the internal organs that were visible looked almost like leather. Some of that might be attributed to the heat of the Nevada sun, but there had been a few rainstorms along the way. These bodies should be deteriorating.

  This would be just another thing he would add to his list of things to look into when he had some spare time. He refused to listen to the voice in his head that said the list was becoming unmanageable.

  Reaching the intersection, they turned up Flamingo Road and had to make the quick decision of using the pedestrian walkway or running down the street. Joel’s mind had already decided that giving up the limited protection that the sidewalk offered would be made up tenfold by the ability of their group not to have to stagger into an almost single-file line. Also, they would have multiple options if they had to maneuver.

  Everybody spread out as they ran along, the only sounds from them coming from their boots hitting the pavement, but to Joel, it sounded like thunder. He was certain they were bringing out more undead with every step they took and that the return tr
ip might be a bit more of a challenge.

  An explosion sounded as they passed the entrance of Bally’s on their right. A flash was visible up ahead and to the right which only made Joel more certain that they were indeed headed for their main objective.

  They reached the monorail tracks which were overhead and out of reach. He knew there was a platform someplace close, but they were also in front of a building that had obviously been ransacked. All the front facing glass had been shattered and a letterboard sign had the words “GET DRUNK AND DIE HAPPY” in mismatched red and black letters. There was a concrete barricade on the side of the building that would make it possible for then to climb up on top of the small building and then traverse over by using a power pole.

  It seemed like a lot of work, but Joel knew well enough that they would have to venture into some tight spaces and dark areas to reach a proper boarding platform. Also, they would have to backtrack into where the zombies had apparently been all stirred up by their passing. Besides, his people had the gear they would need and it was no surprise when Debra stepped forward, hopped up onto the barricade and then hoisted herself onto the roof of the ransacked liquor store.

  In what felt like forever but was just a moment or two, she had tossed a line over to the monorail racks with a grappling hook and secured one end to an exhaust pipe on the building’s roof. She’d had Will help so that she could get the line a few turns around the power pole to add to the line’s stability. Grabbing it with her hands and her back to the monorail, she threw her legs over the line and then began shimmying across the open space. When she reached the power pole, she let her legs slip off the line and then swapped over to the taut line on the other side and repeated the process until she was at the monorail tracks. Grabbing with one arm, she threw it over and then hoisted herself up.

  “Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy,” she called down in a loud stage whisper.

  Joel noted a few of the bikers cast uncertain glances, but none of them said a word. Joel was the next to go. One by one, everybody made it up to the roof without any troubles. A few of the bikers kept holding back, gesturing for others to go ahead of them.

  They had over half the crew up and over when a mob of undead emerged from the nearby parking garage. Joel swore silently. They hadn’t been making any noise, but the fighting had continued off in the direction they were eventually heading. Obviously these zombies had been drawn by all that racket. Unfortunately, they now spotted prey and veered towards the building where the rest of the bikers that had not yet crossed were still standing around either ushering others ahead or shifting back and forth anxiously as they waited their turn.

  It only took a few moments to realize that this mob was extraordinarily large. They washed through the parking lot like a raging desert flood, knocking aside a Dumpster in the process. With the people on top of the building their new objective, they flowed around the building as the numbers continued to grow. In a matter of minutes, a few more people had made it over, but the building was now surrounded by a mob of the undead that was at least ten deep on all sides. All of them were reaching skyward toward the living, mouths open in a chorus of moans and those hair-raising baby cry noises that were visibly upsetting to some who’d obviously either not heard this sound, or possible even not heard of it.

  Finally, they were down to the last three bikers. The men were huddled together and having an animated conversation that nobody on the tracks could hear, but it wasn’t necessary to hear in order to understand what was being argued about. None of them were confident with their ability to make the crossing.

  Joel hadn’t thought about it. He’d simply done it, but he’d had a moment when he was almost across and his muscles were starting to burn that he’d wished he was a few pounds lighter. None of these men were under two hundred and fifty pounds. One of them had to be pushing three hundred easy.

  Finally, one of them threw his arms up and just turned to the line. At first it looked like he was trying to figure out if he could cross it by lying on it on his belly, but this line was much too thin for that. It was braided paratrooper cord, so it was pretty strong and holding the weight of any of these men was not a question. The question was their ability and upper body strength required to traverse it.

  At last, the man was leaning out with his back over open space and he had no choice but to throw his legs up and over. Joel felt his stomach clench when the man decided he was going to dangle and try to make the crossing. He obviously didn’t realize that throwing his legs over would make the strain on his arms and shoulders less.

  He wasn’t even five feet out, but only a few more hand-over-hand moves before he would be to the phone pole which would give him a chance to regrip and take a break.

  And then he fell.

  12

  Battle Ready

  Both men still on top of the small building lunged forward and watched in obvious terror as their companion was engulfed by a sea of undead that began to tear into his body sending up a crimson fountain as major arteries were torn asunder. A few of the people that made it across peered down, but most of them turned away.

  Joel waited for the terrible scream of pain to be drowned into a gurgle before he turned to the group. “We need to move.”

  “But what about them?” one of the bikers gulped, pointing at the two men still on the roof of the liquor store.

  “Unless you can teach them to fly, they’re screwed,” Debra snarled. “We can’t wait around for them to either grow the stones it takes to make it over…or figure out a way to defy physics and haul their fat asses across that line, they’re stuck like Chuck.”

  “Reggie?” Another of the bikers turned to the man Joel was now certain had to be the leader.

  “You heard ‘em,” Reggie grunted, starting up the monorail tracks after Joel, Will, Debra, and the rest of Joel’s team.

  Joel suppressed the smile. He was becoming more confident that this group would be a good addition to his community. And if they shed some of the dead weight in the process, so much the better.

  They moved fast, glancing down on occasion at the carnage below. Many of the undead on the fringes that had gathered around the building had turned away and were now following Joel’s group, but Joel noticed that the main cluster was still several bodies deep and paying him and his people no mind. He quickly wrote off the men on the roof as casualties. The likelihood that they would be able to either get across or find a way down that didn’t involve a swan dive into Zombie Lake seemed basically nil.

  They made the big curve that took them around Bally’s and slowed. They would be going into one of the places Joel had not wanted to venture. He’d forgotten about the Bally’s platform in all the excitement and haste. Once again he’d made a blunder that could prove fatal.

  As they reached the arrival port, Joel saw a few dark shadowy figures stumbling around, but nothing in the numbers he’d feared. Perhaps this was one of those times where it was indeed better to be lucky than good. He didn’t doubt that they could take down anything that might wander out to the tracks.

  As they entered the gloom of the terminal, Joel felt a small sense of vindication. If they’d had to fight their way up the stairs and to the platform, they would’ve had some difficulties. The stairwells were not conducive to battle and the undead were in big enough numbers to be a concern in such close quarters, but by being on the tracks, they were able to move past them without the slightest problem.

  They came out from the darkened area and back into the blazing sunlight and came upon a horrific killing field of sorts. It had once been the Bally’s outdoor pool area. It had been designed to look like yet another tropical paradise—a theme that Joel felt had been overdone ad nauseum by many of the Las Vegas establishments—but it was now a sea of carnage.

  Bodies were still in stacks, and it looked as if there had been an attempt to empty the pool and turn that basin into a massive makeshift burn pit. The stench was not as bad as he thought it might be, but then realized th
at this was a scene of old death. Time, carrion eaters, and rot would eventually claim the scene. Once again, he also noticed a dusting of sand covering a lot of the area. To him, that meant that it hadn’t been disturbed in quite a while. In fact, if not for being up on the tracks, he would likely have walked past and not seen a thing.

  Up ahead was a massive parking structure, and it took Joel a moment to decide that this had not been where he’d earlier encountered the group of zealots. Further ahead on the right, he saw the massive blue-tinted façade of the Hilton just beyond yet another parking structure. He wasn’t in a position to see them yet, but any moment, he knew that the Signature Towers would come into view on the left.

  If his mind was working properly, that would bring them in on the back side of where they’d been engaged before. That was of course predicated on his enemy not having relocated. Every step forward from here on had to be one of caution. He would not risk his people’s lives foolishly. He would do everything he could to extract Conrad and his group, but he would only do that after he dealt once and for all with the zealots. Ending them would have to happen before he could turn his attention to Conrad.

  Of course, he also had to accept the fact that it was possible some of Conrad’s people would not be of any use. He would not bring dead weight back to the community. But if the young man knew anything about Joel, he would be expecting such a response…wouldn’t he?

  At last he could see them. Tower One had already burned to the point that it had caved in or fallen away in many places leaving huge gaping holes. He could also see fires burning on several floors of both remaining towers. With no hope of those fires being put out, Joel guessed that neither with be standing by nightfall.

  There was a lull in the sounds of battle up ahead and Joel raised his hand for everybody to hold up. A tinny sound could be heard, but between the distance and the echo of sound bouncing off the tall buildings, it was indiscernible. Motioning again, he resumed their advance.