Dead Summit: Containment

by Daniel Loubier

  “Leave no trace.”

  “Leave no trace, Dad.”

  “Well then,” James said, “why don’t we--”

  Robert fired a round into his father’s arm. It buried into James’ bicep and his rifle fell to the floor. He covered the wound with his hand but blood spurted out between his fingers.

  “You piece of shit!”

  Robert ran back toward the front of the car and closed the doors. Then he pressed the button that locked them.

  Tom ran to the side of the car and pounded on the door. Robert could hear his voice on the other side of the glass.

  “Robert! No!”

  “It’s okay, Tom,” he said as he examined the control levers in front of him. “Just go.”

  Robert then felt something cold enter his ribs and the air seemed to be sucked out of him. The cold turned to hot and the object slid out again. Then back in a second time.

  Then a third.

  “You thought you could beat me?” James whispered into Robert’s ear. He began to twist the knife that stuck deep in Robert’s organs. “This is just a flesh wound, you little punk. I’ll be just fine.”

  James pulled the knife out and kicked Robert forward with his boot. Robert stumbled headfirst into the front of the car. He arched his back and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

  “It’s too bad you’re not a better shot,” James taunted him. “Then again, I might have trained you better had I thought you’d be worth it.”

  James slipped the knife back into its sheath and turned around. He took a few steps, leaned over, and grabbed his rifle.

  Robert began to laugh.

  “The hell do you find so funny?” James asked without turning around.

  “Oh, Dad,” Robert said as blood continued to erupt over his lips. “Remember when we first got on board?”

  James finally faced his son. He was hardly amused and even less interested in hearing what his dying son had to say.

  “Just before I got on, I kicked out the coupling pin.”

  James tilted his head and looked off, confused.

  “We’re no longer attached to the engine,” Robert said.

  He released the brake and the car lurched forward on the down-sloped track. James lost his balance and fell backward, his head smashing against one of the seats and he landed hard on the floor. He rose slowly onto unsteady hands and knees while Robert slouched at the front of the car laughing through bloody teeth.

  As the car picked up speed, Robert shouted, “The key to containment dad, is… fuck containment!”

  Robert laughed until all the air escaped his lungs and only blood filled the sacs.

  Tom watched in horror as the railcar careened down the mountain, moving faster and faster until it was going too fast. The cog bounced several times along the track and the wheels sparked. Suddenly the back end jumped and the car began to turn in midair. The cog made sharp contact with the track once more and then ejected completely. It rolled onto its side out on the rocky, treeless part of the landscape. There was a roaring sound unlike anything Tom had ever heard in his life as the car continued to roll and twist down the slope with relentless speed and fury. Pieces of the cog exploded off and flung outward like shrapnel.

  Even after Tom’s line of sight had diminished, the sound continued into the distance.

  Somewhere else, not too far from Tom, the rev of a vehicle engine turned his attention.

  Chapter 54

  “Did you fucking see that?”

  “I can’t believe…”

  “Holy shit!”

  The three of them piled into the side of the van and Liam slid the door closed. He then hopped into the driver’s seat and jammed the key into the ignition. The van came to life quickly and he shifted into gear; then he jumped on the accelerator and the van’s tires chirped twice before finding purchase on the summit road.

  He drove past the cog’s engine and saw Tom standing there looking bewildered. It was very likely that James carried the keys to the other van and Tom would be stranded with no way down the mountain other than by foot.

  “Good for him,” Grace said vengefully as she followed Liam’s gaze. “Let’s see him try to catch us now.”

  As if in direct response to Grace’s comment, the rear passenger tire exploded and the van slanted to one side. Shelly and Grace fell into the door as Liam fought the steering wheel.

  “Fuck!” he shouted as the van pulled to the side and he yanked the wheel again. He leaned in the opposite direction of the vehicle’s new course, but the van jolted left and right. Liam tried to correct the vehicle once more, but his effort was futile; the van barreled over, landed on its side and slid across the asphalt.

  Grace lay pinned against the inside of the door as the impact of the wreck forced the full weight of Shelly into her. Liam held onto the arm of the driver’s seat as the rest of his body swung downward. The windows shattered and sparks flew into the vehicle, and Grace felt them hit her skin like hundreds of stinging bees all at once.

  Finally, the van stopped. A plume of smoke moved through the interior and all three began to cough.

  “Are we on fire?” Shelly asked.

  “I don’t know,” Liam said. “Is everybody all right?”

  Shelly pulled herself off Grace and onto her knees. “Grace?”

  “Ugh,” she groaned. “I might have broken a rib.”

  “Oh shit,” Shelly said. “I’m sorry.”

  Grace winced and waved off the apology.

  “What happened?” Shelly asked. “Did we hit something?”

  Liam looked out the windshield, which was now spider-webbed and partially collapsed and created a distorted view for the three of them.

  “I can’t tell…”

  A gunshot ripped through the air next to the van, and a familiar voice called out to them.

  “Did you really think it would be that easy?” Another bullet, this time there was a loud thock as it hit the driver’s door. “Get out!” Tom said.

  “We can’t!” Liam lied.

  “Try,” Tom taunted them. “Otherwise I’m just going to shoot you all inside, and I don’t find that very fun.”

  Liam searched the overturned van for his rifle. He saw it in the back and started to crawl.

  “And I want to see hands!” Tom shouted. “I know you’ve got at least one gun in there, but you can forget it. Show me hands or I start shooting.”

  The three of them stared at each other, each one hoping one of the other two had a brilliant way out of their predicament, but the longer they stared, the more they acknowledged defeat.

  With their heads hung low, Shelly gasped and her sorrow turned into a flicker of excitement. She reached behind her and Grace knew she was groping for the pistol Robert had tucked into her waist. When her excitement faded, however, Grace knew the gun was no longer there and had likely fallen out at some point during their escape.

  “It was a great plan,” Grace said. Then she pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “No,” Liam said. “Let me go first. I’ll help you out.”

  He stuck his hands through the driver’s window and called out to Tom. “I’m coming out first! Let me help the other two.”

  “Whatever,” Tom mumbled. “Just get the fuck out here.”

  Liam crawled up and out the window and stood on top of the overturned van. Shelly put her hands through and Liam took them. He pulled her out and then reached back inside.

  Grace looked up and smiled as Liam took her hands. Shelly had been right: Liam was a good person, and he fought hard for her until the very end. They were both good people, and Grace considered them her friends. Under different circumstances, she might have gotten to know them much longer. Charlie would have liked them, too.

  When Grace was through the window, Liam hopped off the edge of the van. He turned and reached up, and Shelly placed her hands on his shoulders and he held her waist as she jumped down. Then the two of them each held one of Grac
e’s hands, looped an arm around each leg, and set Grace down softly.

  “How’s the foot?” Tom asked with a grin. “Hard to walk, still?”

  “Great,” Grace said flatly. “How’s your ego? Bruised?”

  “Fine,” Tom said. Then he fired a round into her chest.

  “No!” Shelly screamed.

  Grace fell backward into the van’s undercarriage. She stared at Tom in abject horror, and then dropped to her knees. She looked down and touched the red spots on her shirt that were rapidly growing and morphing into a singular mass; then her strength disappeared and her arms fell. The world turned then on its side, as Grace now saw it, and her body slumped forward and onto the road.

  “You motherfucker!” Shelly howled. She lunged toward him, but Liam restrained her. She twisted and kicked in his arms, but he held tight.

  Tom stood still, his rifle held low at his side, and laughed.

  “Well,” he said, “mission one is complete.”

  Shelly no longer fought against Liam. She felt sick, and curled up and dropped to her knees. Liam held her as he moved with her toward the ground.

  “Aww, look at you guys,” Tom said. “Did Robert know about this?”

  “It’s over, Tom,” Liam said. “Just let us go. Please. The girl’s dead. That’s all you wanted. Now let Shelly and me go home.”

  “Ah, Liam… I wish I could. I really do.”

  “Then let us go. We’ll--”

  “But I can’t,” Tom cut him off. “You see, James would have wanted all dissenters contained.”

  “James isn’t here anymore,” Liam pleaded. “So it’s over. We can all go now. Right?”

  “Wrong.” Tom removed the magazine from his rifle, checked the ammo count, and then popped it back in. “More than enough,” he mused. Then he took aim at Liam.

  “Tom, please…”

  Tom clicked his tongue. “Come on now, Liam. You know the cardinal rule of containment, right?”

  Before Liam could answer, three bloody eruptions punched out from the middle of Tom’s chest. The once cocky expression on his face turned to confusion, and his fingers let go of the rifle.

  Kyle walked across the road, a pistol in one hand; his other swung awkwardly at his side. His left sleeve was soaked through with blood and his shuffling gait reminded Shelly of the undead. Was he…?

  Kyle fired twice more at Tom. The big man grabbed his throat as a bullet pierced his jugular. His blood sprayed out in a fine, pulsating mist. He tried to cover the wound with his hand, but it was no use. His life was quickly emptying from his body.

  The color of Tom’s face turned to clay, and his body became unsteady and wavered from side to side. His feet skidded along the road until finally he tripped and went down.

  Shelly watched as a pool of red gathered around Tom’s neck. It grew large and wide until his whole body lay completely in it. She stared into his dead eyes, half-expecting him to ‘wake up’ as one of the undead, but she no longer feared him. Tom’s transformation would be addressed as needed, but right now it was time to rest. Time for her and Liam to be with themselves without the threat of death or worse hanging over them.

  Kyle limped over, his body listing toward the side of his injured arm, and sat against the van next to Liam. The two of them shared a look of fatigue and then stared off, each one lost in his own thoughts.

  Shelly crawled toward Grace’s body and covered the wound on her chest.

  “No,” Shelly cried softly. Then she cleared her throat and shouted, “No! Don’t die, Grace!”

  Grace blinked and Shelly held her breath.

  “Grace? Grace?”

  Grace swallowed. Her eyes met Shelly’s and she said, “Thank you.”

  “No,” Shelly said. “Don’t do this.”

  “You and Liam…” Grace breathed. “You’ll be great.”

  “Don’t…” Shelly begged. “Please don’t.”

  Grace stared up at the sky. It was mostly blue with stunning, fluffy white clouds.

  What a beautiful day, she thought.

  Then she closed her eyes.

  FIVE YEARS LATER

  Epilogue

  She sat in a room painted blue with a crib and a child’s dresser. She admired the latest sonogram in her hand and rocked back and forth in the recliner. She placed a hand on her belly; she had grown a lot during the second trimester.

  “You home?” he called out from somewhere in the house.

  “I’m in the baby’s room,” she replied over her shoulder.

  She heard his boots slip off, one at a time, then his footsteps moved softly over the hardwood floor and toward the hallway.

  There was a tap at the door and she turned her head.

  He leaned down to kiss her and his lips felt as wonderful as they had the first time she tasted them.

  “Taking a rest?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Good. The doctor said you need to stay off your feet as much as possible.” His words weren’t stern, and only meant to confirm he was on board with whatever she needed. After all, she was the one carrying their precious cargo.

  “Oh,” he said. He reached into his pocket and produced a cell phone. “Your phone was blinking. I think you got a text message.”

  She took the phone and slid the lock button. The message indicator showed “1”.

  The text had come from Grace.

  “No way!” Shelly exclaimed. Her face lit up and she was elated.

  “What did she say?” Liam asked.

  “Hang on…” Shelly waited as the message was slow to appear. “Must be a huge picture or something… the download is taking forever.”

  When the status bar reached one hundred percent, a picture of Grace appeared. She was standing on top of what looked like a pile of rocks next to a sign that read ‘Humphrey’s Peak.’

  Shelly laughed. “That is awesome!”

  “Let me see!” Liam said. Shelly turned the phone and he smiled. “No kidding… good for her! Where is that?”

  “Arizona, I think.”

  Liam took out his phone and searched the mountain in his browser. “Damn!” he said. “Twelve-thousand, six-hundred thirty-three feet!”

  “‘Damn’ is right,” Shelly said. “That girl is a machine.”

  “Well, if a mountain full of dead people, a broken foot, and a bullet to the chest won’t stop her… I don’t think there’s anything on this planet that will.”

  Liam noticed a man in the picture next to Grace. His arm was around her and he was smiling, too.

  “Is that…” he asked.

  “Mm-hmm. She’s bringing him to the shower.”

  “Nice.”

  “She says he’s into computers, too.”

  “Oh, cool.”

  “Yeah, he runs his own start-up or something.”

  “Very good…”

  “Supposed to be way better and more lucrative than your company.”

  Liam burst out laughing. “Oh, Jesus… did I tell you I love you yet today?”

  “No, you haven’t,” Shelly said.

  “Hm… well maybe later then.”

  Shelly’s mouth dropped open in mock disgust. She reached for a pillow and threw it at him as he raced out the door.

  “Love you!” he called out from down the hall.

  “Yeah, yeah… you better.”

  Shelly opened the text message again and began to type.

  LOOKS BEAUTIFUL. THANK YOU FOR SENDING.

  MISS YOU.

  She hit Send and placed the phone in her lap. She rested her eyes and tried to slip into a nap when the phone buzzed again. She opened the message.

  MISS YOU TOO.

  Shelly smiled and was about to type something, but the chat feature indicated Grace was already sending another message.

  P.S. I HAVE A SURPRISE…YOUR LITTLE BOY IS GOING TO HAVE A FRIEND TO PLAY WITH IN ABOUT 8 ½ MONTHS ;-)

  Shelly dropped the phone and cried. They were joyful tears that washed away a terrible
past and reminded her of all the good that was ahead of her and Grace and their new families.

  Full of happiness and no longer tired, she picked up a remote and turned on a small TV on the nightstand next to her. She flipped through several channels until she found the local news. A female reporter with brown hair and wearing a purple blouse was standing in front of the Mt. George Campground sign. Shelly raised the volume.

  “It’s been almost five years since this community was rocked by a scandal, a secret reaching back hundreds of years and through generations of men and firstborn sons. Many people were quick to dismiss the idea when they first heard, but one by one, witnesses and survivors came forward to tell their stories, stories that seemed to come straight out of Hollywood from some of the industry’s most prolific horror filmmakers. The truth, as the world finally realized, was this:

  Zombies are real.”

  Acknowledgements

  This book should have happened much sooner, but sadly my idea generator malfunctioned in late 2011 and the story remained elusive for a few years. It wasn’t until an amazing experience I had at CT Horrorfest in 2014 that I finally found some much-needed inspiration.

  A convention-goer paid me a visit at my table. He introduced himself, said he read Dead Summit and couldn’t wait to read the sequel.

  “The sequel?” I asked (even though I always felt the story was incomplete).

  “Of course!” he said, and then he said a few more things I won’t repeat at the risk of spoiling it for anyone who has yet to read either book.

  After a wonderful conversation, he left to enjoy the rest of the convention and I stayed at my table, albeit wearing a much bigger smile.

  Then another fan introduced herself and said many of the same things.

  Then another.

  Then others.

  Weeks later I began to receive emails from people who bought the book at the convention and wanted to share their thoughts with me. I was stunned. I’d never received this much attention for my book from so many people I didn’t know. All of it was extremely valuable and helped motivate me to focus on what I needed to do to tell the second part of this story effectively.