Dedication
This book is dedicated to my other half, Taylor Cheek. She inspired the idea for this book, and has been behind me every step of the way.
I love you.
The Dead in River City
By S.A. McGarey
1
Alan woke up to the smell that comes after a humid rain. The fire he’d made in the old oil drums had burned out overnight, and the rundown structure he’d taken as his shelter for the night was damp from the overnight rain. He woke up alone, same as every day before. Ever since the bio-weapon hit, he’d been alone. He saw no sign of change any time soon.
He gathered up what little belongings he had before setting out. With so many Dead Ones wandering the streets, Alan never stayed in one place too long. He could defend himself to a point, but he dared not wage all out war upon the Dead.
“Why was Louisville even a target?” He asked incessantly in his mind. A valid point, as it wasn’t one of the major cities in America. Alan just chalked it up to the sheer amount of warheads that Russia had loaded with their X7 chemical. They’d made enough to start wasting them on less populated cities, just for the purposes of killing. They targeted America in such a way that the entire country was afflicted. The only thing was that they didn’t foresee the outcome. It went far beyond their wildest imagination.
X7 was a unique chemical, weaponized to cause mass death. While it did prove lethal, it didn’t quite carry out its function. X7 destroyed the body from the inside out, while the skin decayed and fell away. However the brain would persist. The bodies became weakened and frail, but still able to move and have limited functionality. The brain still drove the body, but only just. They no longer had coherent thoughts. The only goal was to kill, and to feast.
This is the world Alan lived in now. After the bombs fell, many electrical systems ceased to function, and most of the city had been damaged in some form. He was one of the few survivors who hadn’t been infected. He’d heeded the early warning system and got to shelter before the bombs hit. He stayed in for a week and a half, until the air was clear of X7. The world he knew was gone, replaced by a city of living dead.
He left the ramshackle building, with his bag slung over his back, and revolver in his hand. He scanned the area for Dead Ones, and moved from building to building with a singular purpose: find survivors. Alan had only found a handful of survivors in the weeks since he ventured out into the city he once recognized, but all of them had run off or perished. Alan began to think that his search was all in vain.
Eventually he reached Main Street. He was nearing the river, thinking there might be people by the water. It was then that he saw a small group of Dead Ones. They didn’t notice Alan lurking in the shadows. It mattered little, as he was about to make himself seen and heard.
You could say that Alan was… impulsive, or perhaps even trigger-happy, when it came to mowing down the Dead Ones. He aimed the old revolver he found weeks ago, and focused on the head of the nearest Dead One. Taking deep breaths, he pulled the trigger. “Eat lead, dead-head.” He rhymed in his brain. Mere seconds later, the Dead One went down, and his 3 friends immediately turned and began shambling towards Alan.
Alan had 5 bullets left in his gun, and 3 walking corpses to finish off. He learned by this time that only a headshot was going to work on them. He aimed at the remaining Dead Ones and began firing off shots. The first missed, and the second only grazed the nearest one. The third landed lower than its intended mark, hitting the neck of another Dead One. In a rage, he fired off the last 2 shots, blowing off the head of the one he’d grazed.
Now Alan was out of bullets, and still had two Dead Ones to deal with. His brain ran at the speed of light, trying to find a way out. He could run, but it was risky, as he could easily run into more Dead Ones. He needed to dispatch these 2 before they could reach him and get the X7 chemical into his bloodstream. Looking around, he found a metal pipe, likely wreckage from one of the buildings, and dropped into a fighting stance.
Alan was ready to fight them in a melee, but before he could, the nearest Dead One’s head burst in an explosion of decayed flesh and discolored blood. The second one’s head followed suit and their bodies dropped to the ground. Alan looked around, trying to find out exactly what happened. He looked up towards a nearby building. He couldn’t see clearly, but he heard a voice.
“Nice job, hot-shot!” a female voice mocked him.
2
A rope swung down from the nearby building, and Alan watched as the source of the voice he heard descended the rope. She was wearing the simple, yet classic, jeans and t-shirt combo, and had her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Alan thought she was quite striking, even though she’d not had access to a shower in a few days at least, and wasn’t wearing a single speck of make-up. Alan didn’t mind; he still thought she was a beautiful woman. It only then occurred to him that he was staring at her, and that he should be more worried about surviving the Dead Ones, than admiring a beautiful, yet fierce-looking, woman.
“Are you just going to stare at me all day?” The woman asked in a half-joking, half-serious tone.
“Huh? Oh, sorry!” Alan replied, finally coming to his senses. “Thanks for the save back there. I though I was a dead man.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You almost were.” She retorted, almost deadpan. “Normally I wouldn’t waste the ammo, but you needed the help. Plus it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda cute.” Alan couldn’t tell if she was joking.
“Well, thanks regardless.” Alan extended his hand. “I’m Alan.” He said.
“I’m Kendra.” She replied, shaking his hand. Even in the grim days of the Dead Ones, a smile like hers lit up the world.
Alan was about to ask her next move, but before the words could leave his lips, Kendra was already walking away. Alan wasn’t one to impose upon other people, but he knew he might not survive much longer at this rate. He’d exhausted the ammunition for his six-shot, and had no real means of effective melee combat. Alan needed help, and right now, Kendra seemed like a perfect apocalypse buddy.
“Kendra! Wait!” Alan called out. He hoped she would be willing to help, but he wasn’t holding his breath over it.
She turned to face him. “You want my help, don’t you?” She said, seemingly annoyed by his unspoken question.
“I guess it’s not the first time you’ve been asked that?” Alan shied away from her, embarrassed that he even considered asking her.
“I hear that question every time I find another survivor.” Kendra confessed. “My knack for survival attracts unwanted attention. I can’t afford to have people slow me down. Plus, I don’t want anyone else’s blood on my hands. I’m a loner, it’s just how I operate.”
Alan paused before continuing, finding a roundabout way to possibly get on her good side. “Well, can I at least help you get to wherever you’re going to next?”
Kendra paused. “I suppose that’s not a bad idea.” She said in a slightly more approving tone. “I was going to head down to the south end of the city. I have a few ideas of places to raid for supplies and the like.”
“We’ll need some kind of transportation… south end is a long way to travel on foot.” Alan replied, thinking of places to find transportation.
Kendra beat him to his conclusion. “Lets check the local government buildings. Chances are their parking lots have some cars that we could get running.”
“Let’s get moving, then.” Alan replied flatly, as they made their way to one of the nearby parking lots.
The lot was filled with cars that hadn’t been turned on since the attack. These cars were driven into work that fateful day, never again to return home. Unfortunately, cars weren’t the only things oc
cupying the lot. There were Dead Ones, and lots of them. Alan and Kendra both knew there was no getting a car from that lot.
They sneaked away from the lot, and made their way to a nearby parking garage. It was 5 floors of concrete and steel, and there was most likely a working car. Alan and Kendra walked inside and began searching for a car. In the darkened shadows of the garage, something lurked, waiting for human flesh to cross its path.
Alan wasn’t a fan of this kind of darkness. The still cloudy daylight poured into the parking garage from the outside, but it didn’t reach all the dark crevasses and corners of the building. Kendra didn’t seem unnerved, but then again her emotions didn’t always shine through like they should. Alan never saw it, but Kendra was sweating, and her heart rate would increase at every little noise she heard inside the building.
They made their way through the garage, floor by floor, in total silence. All the cars they found on the floors were newer cars, harder to hotwire. They would need something older, something easy to hack. They’d made it to the 5th floor before any words were spoken, and they finally found a few cars that might work.
“Kendra! I think I found one that might be workable.” Alan exclaimed.
Kendra rushed over to him. “What’d you find?”
“It’s not much.” Alan began. “Just an old blue car. I can’t even identify the make and model. Looks pretty standard to me.”
“As long as it works, I couldn’t care less.” Kendra replied as she broke the glass of the driver side window.
That sound was the catalyst of what happened next. The sound of the glass shattering into thousands of pieces was enough to alert nearby Dead Ones. So near that they had been hiding in the shadows of the garage.
“Hotwire the car, I’ll hold them off!” Kendra shouted as she reached for her weapons.
Alan opened the door and jumped into the driver seat. He went to work trying to hotwire the car but his limited knowledge proved to slow him down. Kendra began firing away with her side arms, immediately taking down a few of the nearest Dead Ones.
“I’m having some issues over, here!” Alan yelled out, frustrated by his difficulty in starting the car.
“I’m having a few of my own, Alan!” She furiously yelled back. “Just keep touching all the wires until you make it work!”
Alan did just that. He kept touching the wires, looking for the perfect combination that would start the car. Meanwhile, Kendra was shooting down Dead Ones like there was no tomorrow. Each of her side arms ran dry, and her rifle she used to save Alan was not only useless in close quarters, but also out of ammo. They were running out of time. If Alan didn’t get the car started, they were dead.
Kendra was backing up towards the car, working her way towards the passenger door. “Alan! Hurry up! We’re out of time and I’m out of ammo!” She shouted in a panic.
The car started up as if Kendra’s words acted as a magic phrase. She opened the door and climbed in quickly. No time for seatbelts, just enough time to get the door closed. Alan wasted no time in backing the car up and getting out of the garage.
The carnage was near unbelievable. The tires of the old car dismembered the already decaying bodies. They needed to get the car out of the garage, but didn’t mind running down a few Dead Ones on the way. Luckily, the genesis of the crisis didn’t occur during rush hour, otherwise, getting a car through the city would be beyond impossible. Alan maneuvered the car back down to the street, floor by floor. He had to be careful to keep the zombified bodies away from the now shattered driver side window. If they broke his skin, he was a dead man. He couldn’t let that happen. The world may have gone to Hell, but he was determined to make it to Heaven… the long way around.
The car reached the street, the old engine rumbling as the car moved. Alan steered around all the cars clogging the streets. He took the car down Sixth Street, heading out of downtown. The horde of Dead Ones occupying the heart of the city wouldn’t be catching up any time soon. On their way out of downtown, they saw Dead Ones scattered out everywhere. None of them bothered chasing the car, but they instilled fear in both Alan and Kendra. Right now, they felt like the only two people left alive in Louisville.
Alan drove towards the south end, with Kendra directing him to their next stop; A local peddler’s mall off of the freeway.
3
Driving through Louisville these days was tedious at best. There were cars abandoned everywhere you went. Some of the vehicles even had the remains of people who died in the attack. It was less about driving in your own lane, and more about weaving through the mass labyrinth of cars everywhere in the city. Rules of the road no longer applied in this city.
Alan and Kendra were the only ones still on the road. The trip to their destination, that should have taken no more than 30 minutes, took close to an hour to complete. Alan drove the car into the parking lot of the peddler’s mall, and turned to Kendra.
“What exactly are we doing here, Kendra?” he inquired, not fully understanding what she’d been planning.
“You mean, you haven’t put it together?” she replied. “We need weapons, so we came to a peddler’s mall. Usually there is always at least 1 booth in these places that has weapons of some sort. Now, these aren’t guns and things that go boom. Usually it’s a small collection of swords: katanas, long swords, and other melee weapons. That is why we came here.” Kendra explained her thinking.
“Correct me if I’m wrong…” Alan began. “But isn’t close combat with Dead Ones a bad idea? Like a horrendously terrible idea?”
Kendra looked at him and tried to explain. “Yes and no. It’s a bad idea because if they break the skin, you’re pretty much dead, and most people aren’t proficient enough with melee weapons to be smart enough to use them. On the other hand, melee weapons don’t require ammunition. If you use them intelligently, you’ll never run out of killing potential.” Kendra seemed quite sure of herself. “Now I’m not saying we shouldn’t use guns when we can, but it will help to have something to fall back on. Now come on, let’s get moving.” She motioned him to follow her.
They made their way inside, going up the unpowered escalator to the peddler’s mall. The lights were out and there was no one around. Provided that they could see what they were doing, Alan and Kendra could raid the place for what they needed, and then be on their way.
“It’s dark in here.” Alan observed. “Far too dark.”
“No, really?” Kendra voiced her irritation with sarcasm dripping from her lips like venom. “Spot on observation, captain obvious.” Kendra was clearly prickly when it came to foolishness. She was like a porcupine, covered in sharp quills.
“Do you have a problem with me, Kendra?” Alan asked with a hint of offense.
“I have a problem with people relying on me for help. People should learn to take care of themselves.” Kendra elaborated as she searched for anything she could use.
Alan looked away, continuing his search. “The world is different now, Kendra. Humanity is barely hanging on. If people stop working together, then we’ll be lucky to last ‘til the end of the year. We need to learn to get along, or we’re done for.” Alan pleaded with her.
Kendra gave no response. Perhaps she was angry or irritated. Perhaps she didn’t want to accept the truth of Alan’s words. Instead, she simply ignored him, and tried to forget how right he was; tried to ignore how his wisdom got to her heart. In silence, she walked to a nearby case that she could see with her now adjusted eyes. Even having a sliver of low-light vision, she couldn’t find what she needed.
“Do we have anything we can use as a light?” Kendra inquired.
“I’m already on it.” Alan replied. Reaching into his pocket, he found the lighter he kept there. Alan was unsure, if he could even get it to light, as he’d used it to start a fire each night to keep warm and to keep the area illuminated. “I hope this works.” He said, his voice full of uncertainty. He clicked the lighter, but no flame produced.
Alan became overtaken by
desperation. He clicked the lighter again, still with no fire. Again and again he clicked it, but to no avail. After what must have been 7 or 8 clicks, a spark produced, and a small flame spouted from the lighter. He quickly, yet carefully moved over to Kendra, being cautious so as not to snuff out the flame he’d worked so desperately to produce.
“Here.” Alan sighed with a hint of relief. “It isn’t much, but at least we can see.”
Kendra took the lighter from Alan, muttering a barely audible “Thank you” as she did so. The light from the flame was dim, and as Kendra stumbled around in near darkness, she strained her eyes to look for anything that they might use. Kendra saw what appeared to be a sword case. As she ventured towards it, she saw that her suspicions were correct. With a roar, she slammed her arm against the case, shattering the glass, and exposing the weapons within.
“Didn’t that hurt?” Alan cringed as he spoke.
“Like hell.” Kendra stated, saying nothing more.
Alan and Kendra looked in the case and saw a small variety of weapons they could use. Just as Kendra said, there were multiple katanas, and even a long sword like those used by knights in ages long gone. Kendra grabbed a katana with each hand, and threw a third one to Alan. As for the rest of the case, there was little left that was considered useful: a couple dozen throwing knives, and some dull blades. Alan noticed a box in the case. Upon close inspection of the box, he saw that it was a crossbow pistol. It was no bigger than a small handgun, but fired crossbow ammunition. Alan took the box, and his katana, sheathed within its black metal casing, and made his way to the escalator as best he could in the low light, with Kendra following him.
Leaving the mass hodgepodge of booths upstairs, and returning to the ground floor, Alan and Kendra could see again. He noticed a few small cuts on Kendra’s arm from where she shattered the glass case. Alan was just about to notify Kendra, when his mind caught notice of something else. Standing outside the door they entered was a group of people. Alan wasn’t entirely sure how old they were, but they looked young. He reckoned that they were around 18 years old. Judging them by their looks, he believed them to be a group of young punks, using this apocalyptic scenario to do as they wished, with no real authority to bind them.
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