Life of the Dead Box Set [Books 1-5]

by Urban, Tony

  “I didn’t want to go there either.”

  “But you did it. Because you’re a soldier and what do soldiers do? What they’re told.”

  As Saw laid out his plan, Aben had to admit, it seemed as close to a sure thing as possible if all the pieces came together. He hoped that never happened.

  The weeks after consisted of what Saw called ‘harvesting.’ In a police station, Casper had found a few of those long poles with a wire loop on the end, the kind dog catchers used to corral vicious animals. It proved the perfect tool to catch zombies too.

  Saw led the way in his dump truck. The other men followed behind in the semi. When they’d get close to a town, they’d lay on the horns all the way there, making as much noise and commotion as possible. That usually resulted in a dozen or more zombies flocking toward the road by the time they arrived.

  That’s when Saw slowed down. He didn’t want to run them down or tear them to pieces, he wanted to impale them on the metal poles or ensnare them in the razor wire he’d affixed to the death machine. He’d be going three or four miles an hour when he hit them, weaving back and forth and gathering as many as possible.

  If a few managed to avoid the truck, it was up to the other three men to catch them. They were all slow zombies, by this point, which made it easy and not too dangerous for Mitch and Aben to draw them toward the rear of the rig’s trailer. That’s where the pole came in. Casper snagged them around the neck and then the group of them lifted and pushed the zombies into the trailer.

  Before they went on these missions, Saw placed a pile of rotten meat at the front of the trailer. That seemed to draw the creatures further inside where they lost interest in the men who’d captured them.

  So far, they’d filled four trailers with, Aben estimated, sixty or so zombies each.

  Aben found Mitch playing poker with the other men. He was relieved to find Saw was not among them. He must have been off doing whatever the hell it was that Saw did when he was alone and those were details Aben didn’t care to know.

  “Hey Mitch?”

  Mitch looked up from his cards.

  “Can I have a minute?”

  “Yeah, let me finish this hand. Got a good feeling about this one.”

  Aben glanced at the kid’s cards. A pair of sixes.

  Casper raised with a box of powdered donuts. Jimmy followed by adding a bag of licorice to the pot. Lonnie went out and Aben thought Mitch should do the same. Instead, Mitch tossed in three candy bars. Good ones too.

  “Okay what do ya got?” Casper asked.

  Jimmy threw down three aces. Casper a straight flush.

  “Fuck!” Mitch threw his cards down while Casper cackled.

  “Lose again, Mitchy. When are you gonna realize you’re out of your league here?”

  Hopefully soon, Aben thought.

  “Come on.” Aben strolled away.

  Mitch followed, but not before kicking the pile of junk food, scattering it across the floor.

  Aben continued until they were two rooms over. He felt that far enough from curious ears, but just to be extra careful he grabbed a tennis ball and began tossing it against the wall. He sat on the edge of the bunk and motioned for Mitch to join him.

  Mitch flopped onto the bed beside Prince, scratching the dog’s belly.

  “I think that asshole cheats.”

  “He probably does. But you’re still a shitty card player. Don’t know why you bother.”

  Mitch sighed. “Helps pass the time. It’s so fucking boring here.”

  “I won’t disagree with that.”

  “What did you want me for anyway?”

  Aben threw the ball harder.

  Thwock! Thwock!

  “I’ve been thinking about leaving.”

  “Oh yeah? Where does Saw want to go now? Hopefully somewhere warmer. This cold and snow shit’s for the birds.”

  “Not just leaving this place, Mitch. Leaving Saw.”

  The boy sat bolt upright in bed. “Bullshit you are.”

  “I am. I’m tired of it all. Aren’t you?”

  Mitch broke eye contact with him and Aben thought maybe the kid shared more of his opinions on things than he cared to admit. “But where would we go? Back to crazy pastor Grady and his lone disciple?”

  As much as he wanted to get away, even Aben wasn’t up for that. “No. Somewhere else. We could take the dog and head south. Get away from the cold. Away from all this nonsense.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Just think about it. Think about how you want to spend the next year, or hell five years for that matter. Do you want to be a lackey for this bunch of weirdos?”

  Aben threw the ball again. This time, Mitch caught it on the return bounce. He rolled it around between his palms.

  “Okay, I’ll think about it. But you won’t leave without telling me first, will you?”

  “Nah. I won’t do that, kid.”

  Mitch nodded, passed the ball to Prince, and left the room.

  The kid was brash, full of piss and teenage hormones, but Aben liked him despite that. Maybe, in part, because of that. And if Mitch decided to stay, he’d miss him but his mind was made up. He had to get away from this place, these people, before it was too late.

  Chapter 39

  Aben woke with a pain shooting through his right side.

  Bit, I’m being bit.

  His eyes shot open and he found Casper and Lonnie standing over him. Lonnie held a gun on him. Casper some sort of baton. Aben wasn’t sure what it was.

  “Rise and shine, soldier.” Casper poked him again and Aben realized he had the cattle prod. Aben’s body tensed, raising off the bed as electricity coursed through him. After a few seconds, Casper pulled the prod away and Aben collapsed back into the bed.

  Prince, who had been sleeping beside him, barked and snarled at them.

  Aben struggled to catch his breath. “What the hell?”

  Each man grabbed an arm and ripped Aben from his bed, dragging him out of the room.

  “Let me go you bastards!”

  Even though the men were smaller it was two against one and Aben had no chance of breaking free. They pulled him out of the bunkhouse and into the dim light of predawn.

  His bare feet hit the snow and he felt the chill race up his legs and settle into his groin. So damned cold. He was wearing nothing but his briefs and was experiencing major shrinkage. He had a feeling that was the least of his problems though.

  “If you assholes don’t tell me what’s going on real quick, I’m gonna hold a grudge.”

  He had a feeling he knew though. He hoped to God, if there was a God, that he was wrong, but he knew they’d never act on their own. Whatever was happening was happening because it’s what Saw wanted.

  They half dragged, half carried Aben up the access road that served as the entrance to the camp. Aben let his feet hang, determined to make it as hard on them as possible. Prince trotted along at their heels.

  When they reached the main road, Saw waited for them. He stood in front of one of the tractor trailers.

  “There’s the man of the hour.” He gave a sarcastic clap.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Saw?”

  Saw took a step closer. “What did I do to turn you away from me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “We’ve been together for what, four months now? Tell me what I’ve done to you that’s so terrible.”

  “Nothing. But right now, you’ve got me standing in the snow freezing my pecker off and my patience is running thin.”

  “All I’ve ever asked from you, from any of you, is honesty. I must have done something to offend you for you to go behind my back and try to turn the others against me.”

  Aw, fuck. Mitch. “I talked about leaving, that’s all.”

  “This is no prison. I’m not holding you hostage.” Saw turned toward the truck. “Come on out, Mitch. Aben wants to say goodbye.”

  The door swung open and Mitc
h dropped from the cab. He came toward them but wouldn’t look at Aben, not at first. He took his place at Saw’s right side.

  “Morning, Mitch,” Aben said.

  Mitch looked up, reluctant. He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I guess this means you aren’t joining me.”

  “Nope. It was never really an option either. Surprised you didn’t realize that.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for hoping.”

  Saw chortled. “Oh, but you can. A traitor is still a traitor even if his plan fails. I’m sure you Americans have heard of Benedict Arnold, after all. You know what happened to him?”

  “I believe he ran back to England and lived out his days there.”

  “Really?” Saw asked. “They didn’t hang him for treason?”

  “I don’t believe they did.”

  “Huh. You Yankees really are a sorry lot.”

  “Is that what you have planned for me? Hanging me? Why didn’t you just shoot me in bed? Then these fellows could have slept in.”

  Saw grabbed a water pitcher from the bumper of the trailer. Aben could see something dark inside, through the nearly opaque plastic. “Naw, I’m not going to kill you. No sport in that, is there?”

  He moved closer to Aben and Aben could smell something rancid inside the pitcher.

  “You told Mitch you wanted to go, so I’m sending you on your way.”

  “Like this? No clothes or anything?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a little something for you.”

  Saw tossed the contents of the pitcher onto him. It was cold and wet and heavy. Part liquid, part solid. As it dripped down him, he realized it was rotten meat and blood. He wiped some of the chunks out of his beard and chest hair and tossed them into the snow. Even Prince avoided the gore.

  “I could think of better parting gifts.”

  “Who said I was done?”

  Saw motioned to Casper and Lonnie. The men moved to the trailer doors. They banged on the metal walls with their hands, whooping and hollering.

  Aben could hear the zombies inside going crazy. He knew where this was going. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t going to lower himself to beg. Especially when he knew it was pointless.

  “Now get the hell out of here,” Saw said and turned his back on him.

  Only Mitch still looked in his direction. Aben resented the kid for ratting him out, but for the most part he blamed himself and his own big mouth for getting him into this predicament.

  “Mitch,” Aben said. “You take good care of Prince, alright?”

  Mitch nodded. He took hold of the dog’s collar and scratched it behind the ear. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  Aben walked away from them, up the snow-covered access road and away from the camp that had been his home for the last few months. Away from his dog.

  He’d made it ten yards when he heard Prince bark and Mitch yelp. He risked a glance back and saw Mitch holding his hand to his mouth and the dog dashing toward him.

  “Stay with him, Prince,” Aben said but the dog, as usual, didn’t listen. In seconds, it was on his heels. “Damn dumb dog.”

  When they were half a football field away, Aben heard the metallic screech of the trailer doors opening. He didn’t bother looking back. He knew what was coming.

  Being almost naked, Aben also lacked a watch but he guessed he’d been walking for six or so hours as the sun had passed overhead and began its slow descent. He’d started with a fifty-yard head start on the zombies. That was down to forty-five or so now. They were too far away to get a headcount but he estimated their number to be in the mid-thirties. He was surprised Saw wasted that many on him.

  His feet felt like two numb cement blocks attached to the bottom of his legs and he had to shuffle to keep from falling. He knew his odds of surviving through the night were slim and he hoped he’d stumble upon a house or even a vehicle. Anywhere he could barricade himself for a while in the hopes that the zombies lost interest.

  Prince plodded along beside, panting happily as if they were going on the longest, coldest pleasure walk in the history of mankind. Aben wish the dog was smarter, Lassie-type smart so he could say, ‘Prince, fetch me a machete’ and the mutt would actually go and find one. But the dog was just a dog and Aben told himself it wasn’t fair to expect him to be anything extraordinary when he himself was about as ordinary as a living creature could be.

  He wondered how many life choices had led him to this. How many times he could have done something as simple as turn left instead of right, that might have taken him down a different path. He thought this line of thinking to be of the pointless variety but as he walked, it seemed thinking was all he could do.

  A few more hours passed and the sun dipped below the trees, casting long shadows behind him. He took a look back on the chance the zombies had taken an accidental detour, but they were still there and he judged them to be within thirty yards now.

  He thought it felt colder, but it was hard to tell, most of him was numb. His remaining fingers had turned a blue-ish white and he kept flexing that hand to keep circulation flowing. On the slim chance he got out of this, he didn’t want to be minus both mitts.

  Darkness came quick after that, like someone turning a dimmer switch too fast. He couldn’t see the road ahead of him nor the zombies behind him, but the low rumble of their growls and groans assured him they were still there. Prince was there too. His tongue hung so far out of his mouth it dragged on the snow in spots where it had drifted deeper.

  Aben was tired. Physically, of course, but mentally too. A day of reliving his rotten life over and over again had taken a great toll. He realized it was pointless to keep walking. He knew that soon he would trip and be unable to get back up, or fall into a ravine he couldn’t climb out of, or just get so damned exhausted that his heart blew up mid-step. But still, he walked.

  It took Aben a few minutes to realize the reason the land ahead of him was getting brighter was because the sun was coming up. He’d stopped thinking sometime through the night but his body went on putting one foot in front of the other like someone had wound the key on a toy and it kept going and going and going.

  Behind him, the zombies were less than ten yards away. Ahead of him laid endless road with no houses, no shelter.

  Saw knew this. He knew there was nothing on this road for dozens of miles. Bastard knew I didn’t have a chance.

  The sun brought with it slightly warmer temperatures and some of the ice that had formed in his beard began to melt. His mouth felt like a desert and he pushed some of the hard, scraggly hair between his lips and sucked the moisture off it. It was only after the hair was in his mouth that he realized it was also tainted with frozen snot, along with whatever mélange of gore Saw had doused him in before sending him out to die.

  Oh well, it’s all wet so what’s it really matter?

  He wondered if he should have gone along with Saw’s plan to attack the island. Maybe he was right and that the people there were selfish sons of bitches and they deserved to lose their haven. Hell, even if they were decent people, was it worth him having to endure this ordeal? But then he realized he brought some, maybe all of this on himself by leaving Juli and Grady. Listening to that little dude prattle on about God and punishments and redemption certainly wasn’t as bad as this.

  After a few hours of daylight, he stepped on a particularly slick spot of icy snow and went down on his ass. It didn’t hurt. He was too numb to hurt. But he struggled to get back up. The first time he tried he fell on his face. The second he made it to his knees and got stuck there. Eventually Prince got close enough that Aben could rest his hand on the dog’s back and push himself up.

  Right away he started walking again, but a backward glance revealed the zombies were within twenty feet.

  Only a matter of time, now.

  He looked down at Prince who, despite being a dog with seemingly endless energy, panted hard and seemed to be almost as poor off as Aben. Large snowballs of ice had formed on h
is legs and belly and the whites of his eyes were blood red, like all the vessels in them had burst from the constant exertion. That pissed Aben off because even if he’d brought this on himself, the dog hadn’t done anything to deserve it. He was just a dog, one whose only fault was being too loyal. Aben had accepted that the zombies were going to eat him, but he wanted to spare Prince.

  “Hey Prince.” The dog looked up at him. Despite its exhaustion it looked happy to hear his name and its ears perked up.

  “How about you run ahead and fetch us a rabbit?”

  Prince cocked his head to the side and Aben had to remind himself that the dog was just a dog.

  “Get going now. Get!’

  Aben gave him a pat on the rear end then pointed down the road. Prince remained at his side.

  “How about a run then. Can you still run? Let’s go.”

  Aben sucked in a big mouthful of frigid air and somehow managed to jog ten paces. Prince ran with him, excited and yipping. Dog speak for ‘This is fun!’

  When Aben ran out of steam the dog continued ahead a few yards, then looked back to him.

  “Keep going, boy. I’ll catch up.”

  Instead, Prince returned to his side.

  Damn dog.

  Aben was running out of ideas quick and the more he thought about the zombies eating his dog, the more angry and fearful he became. Damn it, this wasn’t right and he wasn’t going to let it happen. The only thing he knew to do was let out that rage.

  “Get out of here!” He screamed at the dog. Prince cowered, his floppy ears slicked against his head. Seeing him like that made Aben’s chest tighten and he fought hard to get a breath, “I said go! Damn dog, get away from me!”

  He kicked snow at the dog but it only hunkered down, tail tucked.

  “I said go!” He roared. Then he kicked Prince as hard as he could, aiming for the hindquarter that had been injured when he found it that past summer. His foot connected and the dog skidded five feet away, rolling over twice before landing in a puff of snow.