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

by Urban, Tony

  Wim found the clinic empty which was pretty much what he expected. He headed toward the open doors which led to Doc’s lab. Its downward corridor was cloaked in red light and he felt like there was a fair chance he was walking straight into Hell, but he continued.

  Halfway into his descent, the first moving thing he saw was a zombie with two heads. He blinked hard, thinking he must be seeing things, but when he opened them, the creature was still there. It staggered toward him, traveling up the tunnel. Its heads lolling aimlessly atop a bloated, purple neck.

  It reminded Wim of the two-headed calf that had been born on the farm all those years before. His pa had called it an abomination. What would the old man think if he were here to see this horrible creature?

  Pa had done the merciful thing and put the calf down. Now it was Wim’s turn to do the same. He shot the head on the right. It flopped backward as a spray of brains exploded out the back of its skull. But the creature kept coming. Wim ejected the cartridge, loaded a new one and closed the bolt. He shot again, hitting the second head. The bullet caught it just above its eye and the force whipped its head sideways and he saw a fissure open where the head was attached to the oversized neck. He thought it might come loose, but before that could happen the monster collapsed in a heap. Wim continued.

  The remainder of his journey was uneventful and the opening to Doc’s underground lair was unimpeded. He kept the stock of the rifle against his shoulder, ready to shoot, as he stepped inside.

  It really is Hell in here.

  The room was filled with Frankenstein-type zombies which staggered about, bumping into each other, into gurneys, into the walls. The creatures seemed even more clumsy or maybe stupid, than their normal counterparts, if zombies could even be smart or dumb, let alone normal.

  Wim saw a female zombie with its stomach torn open and all her insides missing coming toward him. He aimed the rifle.

  “William! Don’t!”

  Wim turned to see Doc in the back corner. He held what looked like a fat, blood covered baby in his arms, but that couldn’t be possible.

  “Don’t shoot her. She has no teeth. She’s harmless. All my creations are. Look closer if you don’t trust me.”

  Wim did not trust the man and had no desire to take a closer look, but he squinted into the scope and peered at the female zombie’s mouth. He realized Doc was right. Her mouth was a scarred mass of hollow gums and nothing more. He checked a second zombie, this one looked as if it had been skinned from head to toe. Its mouth hung open giving Wim a good look. Again, it was toothless.

  He knew Doc was a liar, but he didn’t see any point in checking the others. He lowered the rifle.

  “You’re worse than them, you know?” Wim said.

  Doc shrugged his shoulders as he rocked back and forth. “Worse isn’t the word I would use, but I know your vocabulary and intellect is limited so I won’t take that personally. Tell me, William, have you even so much as glanced at a dictionary or thesaurus? And s, you don’t embarrass yourself, the latter is not a kind of dinosaur.”

  Wim was tempted to shoot him right then but did not. He wanted answers, not more death.

  Doc rose from the stool on which he was sitting and took a few steps in Wim’s direction.

  “Did you kill Emory?”

  “Of course, I did.”

  Wim had no doubts of this, but the blunt matter-of-factness of Doc’s answer sent his temper soaring.

  “The old coot was too smart for his own good. He thought he was being quite sneaky, breaking into my lab, but he never thought to ask the most rudimentary question: Why would Delphine of all people, have keys to this place?

  Wim processed this, all the while feeling dumb that he wasn’t putting the pieces together quick enough. “You mean Delphine— “

  “Told me everything.”

  Wim processed the fact that Delphine had betrayed them. That she’d got Emory killed. He suddenly felt a whole lot less bad about seeing her get shot.

  “Congratulations, by the way,” Doc said.

  Wim tried to get out of his head and back to the matter at hand. “For what?”

  “Marrying my daughter, of course. It wounded me to not receive an invitation. Never mind the fact that you didn’t have the courtesy to ask me for her hand.”

  Wim shook his head, trying to clear it of Doc’s ramblings. He looked closer at the object Doc was carrying. It was a baby. Where the heck did he get that? It didn’t matter. He pulled the folder out of his jacket and held it up to Doc.

  “What’s this mean?”

  “You’ve been snooping in my house. Naughty boy, William. Very naughty. Santa won’t be bringing you any gifts this year.”

  Wim stepped toward him. They were only a few feet apart now. He shoved the file at Doc’s face. “Tell me!” His voice was so full of rage that he surprised himself.

  Even Doc flinched. He pulled the newborn closer to his chest. “Easy now, you’ll scare the baby.”

  “Why does it say ‘test’ under vaccines? What did you do to her?”

  Doc’s momentary fear dissipated and his crazy jackal grin returned. “What did I do to her? I saved her you buffoon.”

  Wim felt like he was being spoken to in riddles and he couldn’t decipher whether Doc was intentionally being confusing or if he really was too dumb to understand. He felt some of the anger leave him, replaced by self-doubt. He’d already been responsible for the attack on the Ark. He’d trusted Delphine, who in turn, betrayed them all. Maybe he was in the process of fouling something else up. When he spoke, his voice was on the verge of wavering. “What do you mean?”

  Doc’s smile grew so wide Wim thought the man’s face might split in half. He was loving this. “Come now, William, you’re not even living up to my, admittedly very low expectations, of you. What does the chart say?”

  Doc reached out and snatched the file from his hand. He held it up, displaying it for Wim to see. Shoving it in Wim’s face now. “Vaccines. Administration dates. Batch numbers.” He threw the file at Wim. The pages bounced off Wim’s face and fluttered to the floor. “Connect the dots. Tell me what it means!”

  Wim’s confidence was gone. He thought about what he was being told, tried to understand it. “You gave Ramey a vaccine. I get that. But for what?”

  Doc waved his free arm around the room, then toward the corridor. “For this! For the plague. Are you figuring it out now?”

  Wim was. He didn’t want to say it but he knew Doc wasn’t going to do it for him. So, he spit out the words. “Ramey isn’t really immune.”

  “Winner, winner, chicken dinner! Of course, at the time I told her it was the flu shot. Which in retrospect, wasn’t entirely a lie, now was it? If I hadn’t given her the vaccine before I came here, she’d be just like every other zombie wandering around eating people to survive. I saved her, just like I saved all of my followers here on the Ark.”

  “That’s why you knew she’d come here.”

  “Of course. Where else would she go? I told you before, William, all of this is because of me.”

  Wim took a step backward. He was ready to go but he had one more question. And he knew he might not want to hear the answer. “But Hal— “

  Doc nodded. “A most unfortunate, but not unexpected, development. Hal didn’t get sick because you brought the boy, and the virus here. The virus is everywhere. Hal got sick because his vaccine wore off.”

  “When was he vaccinated compared to Ramey?”

  Doc thought about for a second. “About fourteen months afterward.”

  Wim felt his chest tighten and his mouth go dry. He struggled to get out words. “How long…”

  “Does she have? I’d say your guess is as good as mine, but that would be untrue. I’d anticipated that we’d all need boosters every five years. Hal’s time ran out in less than three.”

  The idea that there was still hope buoyed Wim’s spirits and he recovered, at least somewhat. His grip tightened on the rifle. “Then I’m going to bring
her here and you’re going to give her the booster shot right now.”

  Doc’s eyes blazed. “I will not.”

  Wim clenched the rifle in his hands. “You will.”

  “Let me rephrase that for you. I cannot. Because there is no booster. Not yet. I’ve been dabbling with one but…” He looked around the room, his face full of pride as he took in the monsters he made. “I’ve been rather distracted.”

  Doc turned back to him. “So, Ramey’s life is in your hands, Wim. Proceed with your plan to leave the Ark, to run away and live as man and wife until one day, you wake up and your dearly beloved has become yet another flesh-eating ghoul… Or stay here with me. Keep the Ark safe and I’ll refocus on developing the booster. It’s your choice.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Both men looked toward the corridor where Ramey stumbled down the tunnel, toward them.

  Wim was too shocked at first to move. He saw the ragged wound on her face and wondered what had happened.

  Doc saw it too, and to him the torn away section of flesh on her face looked oddly boot-shaped. His hand went to his own birthmark. “Ramey, I love the new addition. You’re becoming more and more like me with each passing hour.”

  “I’m nothing like you, you sadistic asshole. I hope to God my mother was cheating on you and I’m not really your daughter.”

  “Well, she was a bit of a whore.”

  Ramey ignored him. “I hate you. I hate you and I’d rather die out there than ever have to see your face again.”

  Wim could see her trembling. He’d never seen her so angry and it worried him.

  “That’s why we’re getting the fuck out—”

  Before she could finish, her body went limp. Wim caught her and stopped her from falling to the floor. He took a closer look at the wound, saw it was not a bite wound, and was able to breathe again. He lifted her limp body cradling her in his arms and held her tight against him.

  He glared at Doc. “I want you to know, if she ever turns I’m coming back here and I will kill you.”

  Doc held his hands up and faked trembling, mocking. “Ohhhh, I’m very scared. Why not just do it now, because her fate is predetermined. It would save you the return trip.”

  One of Doc’s zombies, this one comprised of two different ethnicities, stumbled between them. Wim was glad he didn’t have to look at Doc’s face any more. He turned away and carried Ramey up the corridor.

  Doc called after him. “Ta ta, William. Until next time…”

  Wim didn’t look back.

  Chapter 49

  Wim set Ramey on a snowmobile and climbed on behind her. She was slowly regaining consciousness but he held onto her tight with one arm while he steered with the other.

  They sped through camp. It seemed like everyone was dead and that the zombies had taken over. He avoided all of them as he left camp. They passed the buildings that had been their poor excuse for a home for months, passed the box. Wim stopped when he reached the house trailer.

  “Stay here,” he said to Ramey.

  She was still groggy, but she understood and nodded. “Don’t keep me waiting long.”

  “I won’t.”

  Wim climbed off the snowmobile and up the steps into the trailer where the door had been left ajar. He scanned the tight quarters where he’d lived since June. It was a dump as far as homes went, but he had fond memories of his friends. Now they were both gone, albeit in different ways.

  He moved to his bedroom and crossed to the nightstand. There he took the handkerchief Emory had given him the day he married them. Wim held it to his nose and could still smell the man’s aroma on it. He felt his eyes start to burn and hurriedly shoved it into his pocket. There wasn’t any time for that. Then he took a Polaroid photo Delphine had snapped of the four of them together. Even though she’d cut off the tops of his and Emory’s heads, and despite the events of the day, seeing it made him smile. He carefully tucked it into his shirt pocket.

  He passed by the bathroom, stopping to grab a small first aid kit, then exited the trailer.

  Ramey appeared more alert and smiled up at him. “Thought maybe you went in there to take a few of those plaid shirts. I know how attached you are to them.”

  Wim grinned despite himself. “I thought you liked ‘em.”

  “Not quite as much as you, big boy.”

  He went to her and took her face in his hand. He examined the wound. The bleeding had stopped and it looked clean but he wasn’t taking any chances. She winced as he poured peroxide over it, but she was a tough girl and he loved that about her. In the wind, it dried fast and he covered the L-shaped cut with a 4x4 bandage.

  He paused before he resumed his seat on the snowmobile.

  “Is there anything you want to take with?”

  Ramey grabbed his collar and pulled him into her. “Only you, Wim. You’re all I need.”

  She kissed him. It was long and deep and made him forget about the day’s pain. She had a way of making everything better.

  Ramey now sat behind him, holding his waist, as they drove out of camp and to the gate which still hung ajar. The snowmobile skidded down the little hill that led to the dock, but they avoided it and went straight onto the ice.

  Chunks of snow bounced up as they rode and the cold wind prickled their faces but neither seemed to mind. They passed the gaping hole in the ice where Lonnie’s rig had disappeared and continued to shore. The road that dead-ended in the lake was empty. Saw and his truck were nowhere to be seen. All that remained were tire tracks in the snow.

  Wim slowed to a stop when he reached the road. He dialed back the throttle so he could hear something other than the whine of the engine.

  “Where should we go?” He asked her.

  Ramey squeezed his chest through his coat. “To that little cabin you told me about the night you married me. The one in the mountains.”

  “Well, it wasn’t a particular one.”

  “I know. Any will do as long as there’s a porch with a view. Because you promised me sunsets and stars, remember?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  He gunned the engine and they drove on.

  ***

  From the Author

  Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

  Books 4 (I Kill the Dead) and 5 (Red Runs the River) are now available on Amazon. Those are the final two books in the series and I’m thrilled to be able to share them with you!

  If you enjoyed the first three Life of the Dead books (and I sure hope you did), please take a moment to join my mailing list to receive news about the upcoming books in the series as well as my other books and stories. You’ll also receive first chance at discounts and specials. http://eepurl.com/P8lc9

  As an indie author, every review helps keep me writing. If you’d consider writing a review, it would mean the world to me. You can find links to all of my books on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/Tony-Urban/e/B00HZ77O1O/

  I’m amazed at the success of the “Life of the Dead” series and I hope you’ve enjoyed the first 3 books. I can never thank my readers enough for taking a chance on a new author and for investing your time into reading about the characters and world I’ve created. It’s a dream come true and I’ll be forever grateful to you.

  “The Ark” was a challenging book to write and took months longer than expected. At times, I wondered if it was ever going to come together. Even though I knew how it would end, getting there proved a challenge because the characters I love so much were put through such hardships. I wanted to make life easier on them, but I had to stay true to the story.

  In the end, it was worth all the challenges.

  I continue to be blown away that the books I wrote in rural Pennsylvania are now being read all over the globe. Again, thank you for taking a few hours out of your life to take a chance on this book and on me!

  I love hearing from readers, it absolutely makes my day, so if you’d like to reach out, please visit my website or send me a friend request on Facebook. The links are:r />
  http://www.tonyurbanauthor.com

  http://Facebook.com/tonyurban

  Tell me about your favorite characters, your favorite scenes, and what you think will happen next!

  And Happy Reading!

  I Kill the Dead

  Life of the Dead Book 4

  Prologue

  If you’re reading this, I’m either dead or you’re a nosy bastard.

  If it’s the former, well, that pisses me off. I expected to be in this for the long haul. But, as I’ve found out often enough, death comes when we’re least expecting it.

  I never kept a diary before. Actually, I’m going call this a journal. Diary sounds pretty girly.

  Back to my point, if there is one. I’m not sure why I’m bothering with a journal now. I suppose I hope my story can help someone else. Maybe you can read about what I did right and what I did wrong and have a smoother ride than I’ve had so far. Or maybe I’m just bored. That’s something I wouldn’t have expected about the zombie apocalypse. Much of the time, it’s really fucking boring.

  I’m not the guy anyone would have expected to be in a position to give advice. A lot of people thought I was a fuck up and shit, I am. But, I’m alive and most of them aren’t, so I suppose that counts for something. Right?

  For me, things started off with a scream. I was running the meat station for the afternoon buffet crowd when an old woman’s husband died and came back to life. He bit some people, they started to turn, they bit some more people… You get the picture. It wasn’t slow and gradual like in some of the movies. It was like someone tipping over the first in a row of a hundred dominos. One became two became three.

  Click, click, click, click, click.

  Before I knew it, everyone was dead but me. If I’d have made a single mistake, hesitated a second too long, or even zigged when I should have zagged, I would have become zombie chow, destined to spend eternity inside the Grand Buffet - Johnstown’s #1 Budget Eatery four years running. But I made all the right moves and I got out.