Dead State: Survival Road (A Post Apocalyptic Survival Thriller, Book 2)

by Derek Shupert

  Lucas raises his arm and balls his fingers into a fist. He comes to a dead stop in the middle of the road.

  I nab Duke’s collar and halt him. “Do you see something?”

  His gaze is fixed directly in front of him. I follow his line of sight to the road sign that has been vandalized. The additional commentary does little to keep me calm. It reads:

  Welcome to Sweet Home. Gateway to the Santiam Playground.

  I couldn’t tell you what Santiam is. But at least it has a playground of sorts.

  The light green sign is spray painted with a dark red circle, that has a diagonal line running from the top left to the bottom right. The color has run down, creating thick lines that look more like blood than paint. At the bottom of the circle are the words: Town gone. Full of chasers.

  “Well, the welcome mat they’ve laid out here doesn’t inspire a bunch of confidence in me.” Duke sits down by my feet. I release my hold from around his collar.

  “I’ve been through this town, but it has been a number of years since the last time. Some nice folks here,” Lucas replies.

  He peers back over his shoulder to the way we just came. The edge of his hand presses to his forehead, right above his brow. He’s deep in thought. I can see the gears twisting and turning inside that head of his. I have a hunch of what he’s contemplating, but I’m not overly sure.

  I finally pick at his brain. “Is there another way we could go?”

  He remains silent for a moment longer. “There is always a different way we could go, but no telling if it would be any safer.” He refocuses his attention to the tree line to our right and points at its dense foliage. “We could always cut through there. Again, no telling what might be lurking inside, though.”

  I grimace. I have already been through the bowels of a wooded death trap. My father and best friend got killed in places like that. I would rather take my chances in the city. In the urban jungle, right or wrong, to me, it is the lesser of two evils.

  “I say we continue on to Sweet Home. They’ll have supplies and such that we can possibly use since we had to leave the others behind. That, and I’d rather be in a car right now than tromping through those woods on foot.”

  Lucas nods in agreement. “I was planning on staying on our current path. I was just going over all options here.”

  How many people lived in the town? Regardless if it’s big or small, I’d like to know. It isn’t swaying my decision any. I just want to know what we are walking into.

  “What’s the population of Sweet Home by chance?”

  Lucas rubs, then scratches the thickening black beard that is full of wiry, scraggly hairs. “No telling. I don’t recall seeing a population sign. Could’ve missed it, though.”

  “Best guess, then.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe 10,000? Perhaps a bit more or less. Seems to be a small town. I’d imagine most people probably fled, though. So, we probably won’t have too many to contend with.”

  I take Lucas’ assessment at face value. It does make sense in a way. Most would have probably fled at the first hint of their neighbors trying to eat one another. Small towns are like that. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. Gossip spreads like wild fire.

  We are left with no choice that outweighs the other. The best course for us to go is where we are being warned not to. It’s a crap deal, but one I’m used to by now.

  I shrug, then sigh. “Screw it. Let’s go find us a ride.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  This is the first town I have been in since the virus has been unleashed. I have either stayed to the woods or took roads that bypassed any such dangers.

  Not that I’m overly thrilled about our plan of action here. Strolling through a minefield of ravenous infected people, who are more than likely lurking within the shadows of the buildings, is not high on my to do-list. But we have to find a ride if we want to have any strand of hope of making it to the safe zone.

  Which proves to be a challenge. Much like most of the highway, there is an overabundance of vehicles to choose from. The problem is, most are in dire shape.

  By the amount of bullet holes that riddle most of the vehicles, it’s hard to tell if the military has been through here, or if the locals took up arms and fought back. Windows are busted out. Cars are flipped over onto their sides. The interiors are blackened by fires that left their mark on the steel frames.

  Trash and spent cartridges litter the road. They crunch under our boots as we soak in the decimation of the once quant town. The businesses that ran along the highway are either boarded up, or have their storefronts riddled with busted glass.

  Lucas skims over each store that may offer some sort of value to us as Duke and I provide cover. Food, gear, weapons. Any and all would be welcomed. We stay to the main highway, and keep a consistent pace as we progress through the void that was once a civilized town.

  “Where do you think the chasers are?” I skim over the buildings that are across the street. Those that don’t have plywood covering the windows and glass doors, I try to look in for any signs of life. Dead or not.

  “Not sure. Let’s just be thankful that they’re nowhere around at the moment. We’re not exactly in the best position to make a getaway if any rear their gaunt faces.” Lucas peers inside a beige four-door sedan that has run up on the curb. He leans back on his heels and scrutinizes the condition of the vehicle.

  His head goes from left to right. He checks the tires, kicking the outer black rubber wall with the tips of his boots. He makes his way around to the other side and does the same.

  “Maybe the chasers moved on?” I pose. It’s wishful thinking that I hope is true. “Haven’t seen any bodies yet, so that could be a good sign.”

  Lucas doesn’t offer any sort of reply. He is too busy inspecting the car.

  I shrug off the silence. I narrow my eyes, and peer through the window of a bakery that is directly across the highway from us.

  The interior of the lime green building is mostly dark. What little bit of sunshine that breaks free of the dense clouds overhead brings the interior of the bakery to life.

  “We might have a winner here,” Lucas calls out from behind me.

  My gaze stays focused on the building. I pan from left to right. The absence of any bodies on the streets, dead or alive, makes my mind wander. What if the chasers are trapped inside the buildings? Could that be what the sign meant?

  It is difficult to tell. Unless they had their meager faces pressed to the windows, I wouldn’t see them. As long as the buildings are secure and sealed tight, whatever looms within the four walls can rot there for all I care.

  The grumble of the car engine diverts my thoughts from the building. I turn on my heels, and watch with a hopeful stare.

  Duke makes sure to stay close by. If he starts to stray beyond my comfort, I’ll whistle and stop him. I think he wants to go exploring from the look he expresses at me. He won’t keep eye contact, and he lowers his head toward the pavement. Sorry, bud. Too dangerous to go messing about on your own.

  Lucas is nestled in the driver’s seat. Wires hang from the bottom of the steering wheel as his foot works the gas pedal. He mumbles something through his pursed lips as the groaning of the engine turns to a simple clicking sound.

  He slaps the palms of his hands against the brown steering wheel. “Damn it.”

  “Not a winner, huh?” I inquire.

  Lucas reaches down with his left hand, and pops the hood. Frustrated, he steps clear of the car. He moves to the front, and opens the hood. “I think the battery might be dead. Not sure.”

  I move closer as he inspects the battery, and the cables attached to the silver ends that protrude from the top of the black box.

  “What’s all that yellowish white stuff around the connections there?”

  Lucas pulls a rag from his back pants pocket. “That would be acid buildup.”

  There is a good amount that resides on the terminals.

  “How does that happen?”<
br />
  Lucas dabs at the powder. He tries to clean it off as best he can. “Well, corrosion on the terminals is due to hydrogen gas being released from the acid in the battery. It mixes with other things in the atmosphere under the hood, and produces the corrosion you see on the terminals. Generally, if the corrosion is occurring on the negative terminal, your system is probably undercharging. If it’s on the positive side, it’s probably overcharging.”

  “Sorry I asked.” I half smile. I guess I should’ve known better from the first time he tried to explain something mechanical to me. “Is that going to help?”

  “If we can find another car to perhaps jump it with, then yes. Not having all of that acid will make a huge difference.” Lucas gets out from underneath the hood. He shakes the rag in his hand, allowing the yellow tinted powder to flutter to the road.

  His thick forearms rest against the hood. He wipes the tiny beads of sweat on his face on his long-sleeve flannel shirt.

  I confirm Lucas’ plan with a hint of doubt. “So now we just need to find a car that isn’t too messed up that we can push over here and just jump it off with then? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Lucas nods. “Yeah. The only down side to this, is that the more noise we make, the more likely we’ll draw the attention of any chasers close by.”

  “True. Seems like it will up our chances for grabbing the attention for any that are lurking within the town.”

  Lucas peers back over his shoulder. He is back into a deep trance of thought. His tongue runs over his lips. He squints through the thin rays of sunlight that periodically peek through the clouds overhead.

  His plan is sound, but I’m not overly keen on creating a bunch of extra noise in a place where the infected were known to be. It is almost like a rabbit sitting in the middle of a wolf’s den and ringing the dinner bell. I don’t want to see us as the rabbit, but we are.

  Lucas’ eyes dart from side to side. His finger beats the air. “Wait.”

  “What is it?” I probe.

  Life surges in his eyes. Whatever he is mulling over seems to bring forth a bounty of hope to our otherwise dismal plan. “If we can find an auto parts store, they may have a battery charger.”

  My right brow lifts in curiosity.

  “A battery charger? You mean like something you would put AAA batteries in and plug into the wall to charge them back up.”

  “Something like that.” He glances back down to the battery. “If it still has enough juice left, we can possibly charge the battery up enough to get it started. It will be infinitely easier, and will drastically reduce any noise pollution that we’ll create with trying to jump it off from another vehicle. But mostly, it will save a lot of time if we don’t have to scout out a working vehicle.”

  After listening to Lucas’ plan, I’m on board. I surely want to keep our chances at being detected by the chasers at a null.

  “So now we just need to find an auto parts store. Surely this town has one.”

  Lucas points down the highway. “I believe there’s an auto parts store up that way.”

  I follow his gaze down the grim looking road that is cluttered with debris and stalled cars. “Are you sure?” My tone is hesitant.

  Lucas confirms with a confident nod of his head. “I believe it’s an O’Reilly’s Auto Parts store. Like I said, it’s been a while since I’ve been through here, but I do recall seeing one.”

  “How far away do you think it is?” I inquire.

  Lucas shrugs. “Maybe ten blocks. Give or take. I know it was on Highway 20, though.”

  A part of me wants to just stay put, and hope for the best in finding a car that is good to go. Then again, even I know you have to have tools to remove the battery from its hold. Again, luck is doing its best to avoid us. It’s rather elusive at the moment.

  I sigh. “Let’s get going, then. The sooner we can find this battery charger, the quicker we can get out of here and back on the road.”

  Lucas leaves the hood of the car up. He retrieves his shotgun from the driver’s side of the car, removes a water bottle from his pack, twists the cap free, and takes a big gulp.

  The two packs are still slung over both of his shoulders. I can only imagine the added bulk makes his body that much more tired. Especially, with all of the walking we have to do.

  “Did you want to leave one of those packs here in the car? Perhaps in the trunk?”

  Lucas finishes off the bottle, crunches the plastic in his hand, and discards the crumpled container without a second thought. Littering seems to be the least of anyone’s worries at the moment.

  “I’d rather keep them with me. If something happens, and we’re not able to make it back here, then we’re out of the supplies and other stuff I packed inside it.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. I imagine he wants to keep what supplies he has taken from the cabin close to him. We had to leave so much behind in the truck. I wonder if that still eats at his nerves.

  “Just a suggestion. Hauling all that on your back must take a lot out of you.”

  Lucas rests the barrel of his shotgun against his shoulder. He wipes the remnants of the water away that have run down from his lips to his beard.

  “Nothing I’m not used to. When I’d go hiking, I’d have about as much weight on me as I do now.”

  It is hard not to feel a tad bit inferior to Lucas. Although, I’d venture he is at least twice my age, he seems to have as much energy and stamina as me. If not more. Lugging that gear on his back doesn’t seem like a burden but more of a regular constant. I’m glad he didn’t ask me to share the load. I’m not sure I’m up for that.

  We leave the car, and head up the highway in search of the auto parts store. Duke takes point, with me following close behind. Lucas covers the rear.

  I clutch the rifle with a firm grip. The right grasps the stock close to the trigger while the left cradles the barrel.

  The town is consumed by an eerie silence. No animals make their presence known. It’s as if I have plugs in both ears.

  Duke keeps a steady pace with his nose to the road. He stops briefly and moves his head from left to right. His ears perk up, and twitch as if he caught wind of something. He groans, but quickly disregards any notion of running off.

  Curiosity continues to plague my mind as I take in the buildings that span both sides of the highway. Pondering where the chasers might be is a double-edged sword that I wrestle with. Either they have completely moved on, or they’re lying in wait. The more I chew on it, the more the thought begins to spawn inside my head.

  What if the absence of stimulus causes the chasers to eventually go into a comatose state? I have nothing to base this theory on really, but seeing how the sign warned of the town being infested with chasers, and us not having seen a single one, it kind of makes me give wind to the notion. Then again, this is just pure speculation from a kid who doesn’t know any better.

  I glance at the boarded up windows of the businesses that we pass by. I wonder if people are taking refuge inside the fortified walls or if it’s only the chasers huddled together in a dormant-like state. If there are people, perhaps they’re thinking the same thing I am. Like any prey, if you stay silent and out of sight, your chances at survival increase.

  A part of me hopes that’s the case. It makes this nerve-racking walk through this obstacle course of decimation that much easier to stomach. If there are non-infected people inside watching us right now, they’re probably thinking one of two things. Joy at seeing people who aren’t on the prowl for a meal or pity watching us walk to our inevitable doom.

  My gaze sneaks back over my left shoulder to Lucas. His attention is clear and focused. His eyes scan to the left, then shift to the right. He looks back over his shoulder frequently to make sure we aren’t being hunted.

  Duke freezes. The hairs on his back stiffen. He lowers his head closer to the road. A low growl seeps from his throat, growing louder and angrier.

  I bring my rifle to bear, and press the butt
end firmly to my shoulder. I inch my way toward Duke, and kneel beside him. My hand pats his left side. I can feel the tremors of each growl course through my palm. His muscles are taut. Something is close by.

  “Do you see anything?” I whisper.

  Lucas moves up beside me with his shotgun at the ready. He sweeps from left to right, pointing at the multiple cars that are smashed together in the middle of the highway. Glass litters the pavement. Fluids from the engines have bled to the road. It’s difficult to pierce the contorted steel of the vehicles to see what is lurking on the other side.

  Duke starts to advance, but I grab his collar, and hold firm. He wants to go, pressing his weight forward.

  “I don’t like this,” I mutter.

  Something within the concealment of the wreckage moves. That rips a brief ruff and sharp warning from Duke’s snout. His growling intensifies tenfold. He’s poised to attack whatever is there.

  I struggle to keep him planted. He wants free to the point of dragging me along for the ride if need be. I turn to Lucas and start to ask for guidance when a body emerges on top of the cars.

  Duke growls and barks. He displays his teeth at the gaunt chaser who stands atop his mountain of twisted metal. His shirtless chest heaves in and out. Blood stains the skin with a red hue that is caked on thick. His eyes narrow at me, then over to Lucas.

  I take aim with my rifle, and prepare to fire.

  Lucas holds up his hand. “Don’t shoot,” he calmly orders.

  “Why the hell not?” I grumble back.

  Another chaser emerges to our right from behind the wreckage. Just as ghastly as the one looming over us, he stands at the ready.

  Our situation has quickly degraded. It’s unclear how we’re going to escape the chasers. True, discharging the weapons could attract more, but not doing so could put us at a disadvantage. There it is again. That damn double-edged sword.

  My head tilts to one side, trying to figure out what is happening. Why aren’t they attacking us?

  “What are they waiting for?”

  Lucas keeps his shotgun trained at the gruesome infected as he calmly speaks in my direction.