Apocalyptic Beginnings Box Set

by M. D. Massey

  “Take it, you’re a motorhead?” Dean asked.

  “Yup, before cars got so damned high tech. Now you’ve got to have a Ph.D. to work on a car.”

  “Know what you mean. I restored Mustangs in the eighties to make a little beer money.” Dean reminisced briefly, remembering how sweet that candy apple red, ’66 Mustang had purred. Instead of selling it, he had talked Mary into giving it to Kyle for his eighteenth birthday. Dean had never forgotten the expression on their son’s face when he handed over the keys.

  Dean made up his mind right then and there. It was time for him to go home. Thinking it was possible Kyle had made it back from Afghanistan in one piece. Hell, what if Kyle’s waiting for me on the front porch? At least that’s what Dean pictured in his mind. If he could have one last wish, he’d cash it in to see his son again, and tell him how proud he was of him.

  After Mary had died, he and Kyle had ended up having a humdinger of a falling out. Dean had accused him of being a coward for running off to join the Army, instead of helping Dean cope with Mary’s loss and all that bullcrap. It wasn’t that Dean thought serving his country was the wrong thing to do, not at all. It had been the plain simple and selfish fact that Dean hadn’t wanted to be alone, left with only memories. Their relationship had been tense ever since the day Kyle had shown up with his Army Basic Training Orders. First, Mary had left him—then his son. Regrets: how deep the blade cuts into an old man’s soul. If I had it all to do over again . . .

  Luther manhandled the Snap-on toolbox and plunked it onto a dolly cart. “Couldn’t resist. It be calling my name. ‘Luther, please take me home.’ ” Luther grinned.

  Dean almost grinned back. “You ready?”

  “Time to jet,” Luther agreed.

  Dean took the cart and Luther pushed the dolly to the parking lot. “Holy Mother of God!” Dean shrieked. Two hordes merged into one massive mob at the Fulton Avenue and Arden Way intersection. “Luther, they always seem to know when you’re in town.” Dean shook his head in disbelief.

  “Yup, all three hundred pounds of this here U.S.D.A. certified organic, Black Angus, good ol’ Luther meat. They just be achin’ to get a bite of me, don’t ya know,” Luther boasted as they loaded the Jeep.

  “Where to?” Luther asked.

  “I believe if we keep heading west on Arden Way, we’ll run into the freeway. Need to find me a decent vehicle, once we get to the highway. Sorry, my friend. Made up my mind to go back home. That is, if you think you can manage it to Reno on your own?” Dean said, afraid to disappoint Luther. But a new regret taunted him; he finally accepted the fact that he’d failed in protecting Ella, Justin, Scarlett, and LuLu.

  “Yup, I’ve made it this far. I’ve known for some time you were ready to go home—see it in your eyes,” Luther stated. “Can’t say I blame you one little iota. I’d certainly be hangin’ at home with my family if my home wasn’t in the No-Zone. Don’t worry about me. Ol’ Luther here can outsmart those rank-smellin’ nimrods. I’m well aware of the fact you only came this far in the hopes you might meet up with your people. Understandable my man,” Luther said without argument.

  A tremendous sense of relief overtook Dean. He’d been given a new chance at finding peace, the peace of mind that he could die with dignity in the sanctuary of his own home. Hell, everyone’s gotta go sometime.

  They cruised down Arden Way. When they approached the Arden and Howe intersection, a familiar sight of 360-degree skid marks scarred the middle of the intersection.

  “Speakin of rank-smellin’ nimrods—” Luther gagged.

  “Yep.” Dean associated the intense odor with a massive slaughter of dead-heads. It was definitely the Stockton Boys’ calling card: Z-smashing raids as Justin had so succinctly put it.

  “Good God Almighty, remind me to get some nose plugs—will you? What could a done that?” Luther asked, carefully avoiding the gelatin like-gunk congealing to the pavement.

  “Slow down, if you don’t mind. Let’s take a look-see. The big mall is just down the street a ways,” Dean said, carefully surveying the area.

  They followed the trails of squashed dead-heads to a shopping center adjacent to the mall. “Fresh kills, not more than a day old. What do you think, Luther?” Dean pondered.

  “Yup, definitely fresh kills.” Luther nodded in agreement.

  “Someone was here,” Dean mumbled, somewhat perplexed. They drove around a Best Buy and a restaurant.

  “Don’t see anyone,” Luther said, eyeballing the place.

  “Someone’s still here. I feel it in these old achin’ bones of mine.” Dean hadn’t realized he had said it out loud until he caught Luther’s quizzical glance. “Turn here. It connects to the mall. I know, I know, sounds crazy, but someone’s here. Probably hiding,” Dean said, knowing Luther must think him an old fool.

  They drove past the post-apocalyptic mall of busted windows.

  “That way! There’s a hotel at the end of the parking lot—see the sign?” Dean shouted.

  “Simmer down. Don’t be having a heart attack on me,” Luther said uneasily.

  They drove into the adjacent lot leading to the Sacramento Inn.

  “Good God Almighty!” Luther bellowed.

  It was the biggest damn horde Dean had ever seen. “Remind you of something?” Dean asked, rubbing his chin. “Last time I saw a horde swarming a building like that, they were after you.”

  “Yup, don’t remind me. It looks like someone’s in a shitload of trouble. Those things look ravenous.” Luther looked aghast.

  “They haven’t spotted us yet,” Dean said, rolling up the window, the stench unbearable.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Luther asked.

  Dean nodded. “We need a distraction. What’s the fuel status?” Dean asked.

  “Enough . . .” Luther said and started pounding on the horn.

  Lost in their bedlam of groans and moans, it took a while before the motley crew of dead-heads noticed them. Luther continued pounding on the horn. One by one, the dead-heads popped off one another like an old dog with a bad case of the fleas. Then, they lusted toward the Jeep in a hypnotic-crazed state.

  “How’s about we slowly lure them back to the far end of the mall. Then, we can double-time it back here,” Dean said, afraid to take his eyes off the approaching mob.

  “You got it!” Luther waited, baiting the horde dangerously close. One lurched onto the passenger’s side door.

  Luther swerved the Jeep until it lost its grip. In the side mirror, Dean watched the thing roll down the street like a ghoulish bowling ball, knocking down several of the dead-heads in its path before it finally uncurled and found its feet again.

  “You see that?” Dean yawped.

  “Now that’s what I call an overachiever,” Luther hooted.

  “They’re definitely getting stronger and smarter. Or just more desperate,” Dean jabbered.

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Luther laughed it off.

  They lured the massive horde to the opposite end of the mall. “Make a right at the entrance. You can get to Arden Way from there,” Dean said, keeping an eye on his side mirror.

  Luther slammed the pedal to the floor, and they zoomed down Arden, and then turned into the hotel.

  “Which room was it? Hell, we’ll each take an end and meet up in the middle.” Dean began frantically rapping on the rooms. When he reached up to knock on room 111, the door swung open. There stood Ella.

  “Dean! Oh-My-God! How’d you find us?” Tears streaked down Ella’s already tear-stained cheeks.

  “Ella! Well, Twinkle Me Mary!” Dean gave her a bear hug.

  “Luther,” Dean hollered. “Over here.”

  “I knew if I followed my gut instinct, I’d find you all.” Dean smiled.

  “Good God All Mighty!” Luther drawled. “We found you!”

  With Ella still latched onto him, Dean asked, “Is everyone here?” He gently grabbed her by the shoulders. “Ella, you’re safe now. Everything’s g
oing to be all right.”

  “Um, umm,” Luther interrupted. “We’ve got maybe three minutes before those rank-smellin’ nimrods make it back here.”

  Dean gave Luther a frown like he had just said something idiotic. Thanks, I’m trying to calm Ella down.

  “I’m just sayin’?” Luther threw up his arms as if to say “whatever,” then took watch outside the door.

  “Why in tarnation are you holed-up on the first floor? Thought I taught you better than that.” A whimpering sound came from inside of the room.

  “Someone hurt?” Dean asked, scurrying into the room with Ella still clinging to him.

  “He, he was attacked—by a huge zombie,” Ella wailed, flinging herself from Dean to Justin.

  Luther poked his head inside the room. “When?”

  “Uh, yesterday, I think. Sorta lost track of time.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “Dean, want to watch the parking lot? I’ll check the kid out. I’ve seen my share of bites,” Luther said, rushing into the room.

  “Hey, Luther, is that you?” Justin propped himself up on the pillows. “Dude, I’ve got like the biggest headache ever,” Justin grumbled.

  Ella hugged Justin. “He’s getting better, really—” Ella said, but she didn’t sound too sure.

  “Ella, that so hurts,” Justin grumbled.

  “First off, I think your ribs are broken,” Luther stated. “And your nose is crooked. Guess you won’t be a pretty boy anymore,” Luther teased.

  “Where’s Scarlett and LuLu?” Dean questioned from the front door.

  “Looks like knife wounds. Did someone stab you?” Luther asked.

  “I think I sorta did—by accident.” Ella’s eyebrows crossed.

  “Nope, he’s not afflicted,” Luther said, after giving Justin the once-over.

  Ella gave Dean a quizzical look.

  “What Luther means to say is, Justin won’t be turning into a zombie anytime soon,” Dean explained with much-needed relief.

  “Looks like you’ve been in one hell of a fight—broken ribs, broken nose, stab wounds?” Luther shook his head as he made his way to the front doorway, his huge mass blocked out most of the sunlight.

  “You ought to see the other guy . . .” But he didn’t sound too convincing.

  “Yup, time to go!” Luther warned.

  Luther dashed to the bed and picked up Justin.

  “Where’s Scarlett and LuLu?” Dean panicked.

  Justin gave Dean a knowing look, but Dean didn’t know what Justin meant by it.

  “Aren’t they with you? And how did the hotel burn down?” Dean questioned as they scrambled into the Jeep.

  “It’s sort of a long story,” Ella hinted.

  “I see a freeway entrance,” Luther announced.

  “Wait!” Justin yelled, startling everyone. “Turn around.”

  “Where’s Scarlett and LuLu?” Dean asked again, but everyone kept ignoring him.

  “No! I need to get back to the mall.” Justin was out of his blooming mind.

  “Okay, Luther here needs to know which way to go.” Luther sounded frazzled.

  “I’ll explain everything. Just go back.” Justin was adamant.

  “What in tarnation?” Dean was losing his patience.

  “I need to check on something at the Best Buy,” Justin blathered.

  “No Problem, I can do that,” Luther said. “Everyone, simmer down. Ol’ Luther can’t handle you all going postal.” Luther flipped a 180 and headed back down Arden Way.

  “Stop!” Justin yelled when Luther entered the Best Buy entrance.

  Luther stomped on the brakes, and everyone turned to Justin.

  “Dude, can you help me out?” Justin said emphatically, holding his ribs in obvious pain.

  “Did you lose something?” Dean asked, his patience wearing thinner. As much as Dean loved the kid, sometimes Justin had a way of getting on his nerves with his cockamamie ideas.

  Justin had to know one way or the other: Had the whole thing been a vivid hallucination, or had it actually happened? He’d been reliving the zombie fight over and over in his mind. It didn’t seem real anymore. How could it be? He didn’t think he could explain it because it seemed unbelievable even to him. He knew if he did try to explain it, they’d think he had been delirious or something.

  After Luther helped him out of the Jeep, Justin surveyed the shopping cart island. He stood there staring and thinking. He fought back the wooziness and hobbled over from one de-activated Z to another, not finding what he was searching for. He noticed the strange looks Luther, Dean, and Ella exchanged when they thought he wasn’t looking.

  “You sure he’s not turning? He’s acting weird,” Ella whispered.

  Then Justin saw it: the Super-Z. It still wore the red and grey flannel shirt. Like the dude only had one shirt. Facedown on the pavement, its skull had disintegrated into a mushy-gooey substance. Justin shoved the body with his foot, rolling the Z onto its back.

  “Paxton,” Justin ranted. Rage took over and Justin kicked it repeatedly. “You son of a bitch, you evil, psycho son of a bitch—”

  Dean rushed to him. “Son, it’s all right. It’s over,” Dean said, trying to calm him down.

  “That? That’s Paxton?” Ella cowered.

  “Yup, time to go people,” Luther’s voice boomed. “They’re on to us!”

  They rushed into the Jeep. “Where to?” Luther asked as he stormed out of the parking lot.

  “We can’t forget Scarlett and LuLu,” Dean reminded.

  “Dean—” Ella started.

  Dean turned around and looked at Ella sitting in the backseat next to Justin.

  “LuLu’s dead,” Ella managed to say without sobbing.

  Justin had been avoiding breaking the news. The sadness in Dean’s eyes pinched his heart as well. Speechless, Dean slowly turned back around in his seat.

  “And Scarlett—” Dean started as if afraid to finish his sentence.

  “Sorry to say, she didn’t make it either,” Justin said.

  “Any of this got to do with the Stockton Boys and the burnt-down hotel?”

  Justin fought the lump swelling in the back of his throat. He gave Ella a questioning look, and she responded with glassy eyes ready to spill over with tears. It was time to tell Dean.

  “Might as well give it to me straight,” Dean said softly.

  Justin explained, “Apparently it was an elaborate scheme to get you to go to Travis AFB. ’Cause the night you guys left, the Stockton Boys started the hotel fire. Paxton and Nate made us think they had saved us. But in actuality, they were, well, kidnapping the women.”

  “LuLu saved us!” Ella blurted out. “And, and Scarlett saved us too.”

  Dean glanced back at Justin. “Go on, son.”

  “Ye-ah, well Paxton and Nate wanted Ella and Scarlett for, uh,” Justin was super embarrassed to say it. “Like, uh, sex slaves.”

  Dean’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. Justin thought for sure Dean was gonna spontaneously combust with anger.

  “And, you know Scarlett, she is—was—always so brave. She came up with a plan. And we escaped,” Justin said.

  “What happened to her?” Dean’s tone was flat and remorseful.

  “It happened so quickly. Ella and I went one way, and Scarlett went in another direction to keep Paxton off our trail,” Justin continued.

  “But what happened to Scarlett?” Dean whispered.

  “We never saw her again. Then, we accidentally ran into Paxton and a couple of his new recruits. And they sort of kidnapped me, again. Paxton told me Scarlett was dead or a zombie. He never did say how it happened,” Justin said.

  “And LuLu, poor LuLu . . .” Ella wailed.

  “Uh, ye-ah, and Ella actually de-activated her first Z. Unfortunately, it happened to be LuLu. And then she de-activated Paxton,” Justin said, realizing he and Ella probably weren’t explaining things in the right order and hoped Dean and Luther were following along okay.

 
“They were gonna leave her like that—all zombie-like . . .” Ella cried.

  “You mean to say LuLu got bit, and Paxton didn’t put an end to it?” Dean asked in disgusted outrage.

  “Ye-ah, dude. He like, left her there for the fun of it. Like he enjoyed it.” Justin shuddered. He still couldn’t get that sick scene out of his head. “Ella and I hid from Paxton. And then Ella did the craziest thing ever. She grabbed my gun and shot LuLu—in the head. So like, they, I mean Paxton and his two new recruits came back. I told Ella to hide. So, they only saw me, you see.” How could Justin possibly explain it when it still didn’t make sense to him?

  “And, Justin left me by the shopping carts,” Ella chimed in.

  Dean stared from Ella to Justin with his mouth gaped open. “And then what?” Dean asked.

  “I escaped just before dawn when I thought they were asleep. I went back to our hideout. And then—”

  “Dean it was so cool! We lived on a roof,” Ella interrupted again.

  “Anyway—” Justin rolled his eyes. It was hard enough to explain without Ella helping him. “I went back to our rooftop hideout to find Ella. Only she wasn’t there. Apparently, Paxton followed me. It was like he knew Ella was really alive all along, and he was just playing me, waiting for me to lead him to her so he could kidnap her.”

  Dean kept shaking his head and rubbing his chest.

  “Then, then, well, I sorta shot him. Several times. After that, I ran like crazy to the Best Buy ’cause that’s where I last saw Ella. It was so freaky—it was like I could hear her calling out to me.” Justin stopped for a moment thinking how bizarre it had been. “But, you want to know the weirdest part? I killed Paxton on the roof. I shot him several times. I actually watched him fall off the roof.”

  “Wait,” Ella said confused. “You killed him before I killed him?”

  “Son, you know none of this makes any sense whatsoever . . .” Dean looked completely baffled.

  Justin really didn’t understand how Paxton could have followed him after being shot and falling off the roof. “He must have been in a kind of pre-zombified state. Ye-ah, but that breaks all the rules. Zs don’t have any brains once zombified. They can’t think. You know what else is weird? It was like he was a Super-Z. He had incredible strength.”