Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  “More like tolerating me.” Dawson reaches for Duke’s head, but is met with a low growl and sharp fangs. He quickly yanks his hand back and shakes his head. “Yeah. He is super sweet on me.”

  “Did he bite you?” I pose.

  “No.” Dawson continues to look down at Duke.

  “See. Progress.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Those guys that were after me trashed my Humvee. I got two gas cans, though that they didn’t take. Should be more than enough to get your truck some fuel and have some extra to throw in the back.” Tony says while holding two red gas cans in the air.

  “Awesome. Let’s get this done, and get the hell out of here,” Dawson adds with jubilee. “I don’t like just hanging out here.”

  Dawson grabs the cans from Tony and sits them on the ground next to each other. He removes the handle from the housing and starts pumping into the first can.

  Duke’s ears perk back up, his body becoming tense once more. He looks to Dawson’s left and starts growling.

  “What’s wrong with the dog?” Tony peers to the left, back toward the store.

  “Whatcha got, boy?” I pat his side. Tony pulls a gun from behind his back.

  “Don’t move.” Tony points the gun in Dawson’s direction. Dawson looks up, his face flooding with terror as his arms fly up into the air.

  “I told you that we couldn’t trust this asshole. He went back to his truck and got that damn gun to rob and kill us.”

  “Tony, what the hell!” I yell as Duke barks his head off. “So now you’re just going to kill two kids in cold blood like it’s nothing?”

  Tony’s face is stone cold, his lips straight as an arrow. His hands are steady, eyes locked dead ahead at Dawson’s skull.

  Before I get the balls to do something that will probably get us both killed, Tony fires a single shot off. I look away, unable to bear the thought of Dawson being shot in the head. He screams, which turns my stomach inside out.

  Something heavy plops to the ground, and then Dawson mutters something. My eyes crack back open. I turn toward him.

  “That was close, huh?” Tony lowers the gun to his side. “Pretty good shot too.”

  Dawson’s right ear is bleeding. “What!” Dawson’s fingers dig inside his ear canal. He stares at me with a bewildered gaze. I point toward the ground as he looks behind him.

  “Holy hell!” He jumps in the air and scrambles to get away from the chaser that is laying mere inches from his feet.

  “Thanks to Duke here, I spotted it through the window of that Camaro over there and kept an eye on it. I was hoping it wouldn’t venture this way, but it did.” Tony places the gun behind him and reaches his hand out to Dawson who’s still messing with his ear. “Sorry if I scared you, kid. Didn’t want to cause any panic or anything, and have either of you do something stupid.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Now I have this damn ringing in my ear,” Dawson yells back.

  “That should go away shortly,” Tony reassures.

  Dawson takes Tony’s hand and shakes it one time before pulling his hand back.

  “Listen, I might come across as an asshole, but I’m no murderer. Well, not of the living or people who don’t deserve it anyway,” Tony assures.

  “Glad to hear it. You had me wondering.” I notice gas running out of the top of the gas can and let go of Duke’s collar. I retrieve the gas handle and remove the nozzle. I sever the flow as the potent fumes fill the air. I slide the nozzle into the remaining can and begin pumping once more.

  “I’d hurry it up there, James. Looks like that gunshot attracted some unwanted attention.” Tony places his hand just above his brow. His head goes from left to right.

  I top off the can I’m filling and stow the handle back into place. Screwing the caps on, I get to my feet and notice multiple chasers running through the tall weeds on the left side of the store. I count two, now three, no wait, five total barreling our way.

  Duke’s nose is in the air and ears on end. He must’ve picked up their scent as well. His body is rigid, muscles taut as he stares at the group of chasers coming our way.

  Bark! Bark!

  I start to remove the Remington from my shoulder, but Tony puts a restrictive hand on the barrel.

  “Save it, kid. Get your friend and fall back to the road,” Tony says.

  “What are you going to do?” I inquire, standing next to Tony.

  “Hopefully, buy us some time. Now move!”

  “Come on, Duke,” I call out while heading over to Dawson. He jumps when I grab his shoulder. “We need to get back to the road now! Grab one of the gas cans, will ya?”

  Dawson shakes his head. His hand cradles his injured ear. We each pick up a can, and lug them through the maze of cars. I look back over my shoulder while on the move. Tony removes the gas handle from the pump and holds it out in front of him.

  “Oh, no, he isn’t going to do what I think he is,” I mutter.

  Tony sprays the gasoline all over the store’s front, and the ground in front on him.

  “Pick up the pace, Dawson. We have to move faster,” I urge.

  Dawson and I weave through the cars. We make it to the road, and stand alongside the truck. We toss the gas cans in the back. They hit the bed with a dull thud. Duke moves to my side, still barking at the incoming threat.

  Tony jumps and slides over the hoods of the some of the vehicle while sprinting around the others as the chasers close the gap.

  “Get in the truck, dude.” Dawson pounds his fists against its side as the stampede of infected charge our way.

  I glance in Tony’s direction. “What about Tony? He’s going to know that we lied.”

  “I’m more concerned with putting distance between us and this gas station. If he’s about to set this place off like a roman candle then we need to be on the move and heading in the opposite direction.” Dawson opens the passenger side and hops in. Duke quickly follows and sits next to him in the middle.

  “Start it up, James!” Tony yells as a fire erupts in front of the store.

  I get to the driver’s side and fire up the truck. Duke is still barking, which is kind of getting annoying. I quiet him down as Tony hops into the bed of the truck.

  He slaps the back window repeatedly and yells, “Go!”

  Slamming the gas pedal down, we peel out of there. A handful of chasers run right through the raging inferno, igniting their bodies. They make it a few more strides before falling to the ground, their clothes consumed by the flames.

  The remainder of the pack veers off. They weave through the cars and onto the road. Tony nudges the back window open. The smell of gasoline fills the inside of the cab.

  “That was close, boys,” Tony says as the gas station erupts in a massive blast, shaking the truck.

  In the rear-view mirror, the flames engulf the vehicles and the surrounding area. The remaining infected chasing after us fall farther and farther behind as I speed up. Eventually, they’re nothing more than a spec in my mirror.

  We drive about another fifteen minutes, and I pull over to the side of the road and kill the engine. The gas gauge hugs the empty mark. The warning light has been flashing for the last five minutes.

  “How are your ears doing?” I inquire as I glance to Dawson.

  He massages his ear and opens his mouth. “The ringing is not as bad now, but my head still hurts.”

  “Well, take it easy. I’m going to fill up the truck and check on Tony. Then, we’ll get going again.”

  Dawson leans his head back against the headrest. His eyes close and his hand rests on top of his forehead. Duke seems to have calmed down as well. He lays close to Dawson with his head resting in his lap. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked at the sight. Never thought Duke would come around, but glad he has.

  In the distance, thick black smoke billows up into the sky from the store. That dude is one crazy sob, that’s for sure. Better check on him.

  I step out of the truck. Tony’s already filling
up the gas tank. He’s sweating something fierce, beads racing down his face and mixing in with the dirt and grime coating his skin. I imagine the cool, brisk air will stay the heat he’s feeling.

  “How’s your friend doing?” Tony inquires as he elevates the gas can higher.

  “He’s fine. I think he’s more shaken than anything.” I glance through the back window. All I can see is the crown of his head.

  “That’s good. Pretty lucky you came across this truck and all.” Tony shoots me a quick glance, our eyes briefly connecting before he looks away.

  My body slumps over some and my deceiving eyes train to the ground. “Yeah, about that. Sorry about lying to you. Didn’t know if we could trust you or not.”

  Tony meets my shameful expression with a shrug of his shoulders. “No worries, James. Can’t say I blame you. You have to protect what you have, especially now. Besides, when things go to crap, trust is a valuable thing. Without it, we’re just as bad as those things.”

  I raise my head. “So, can we trust you?”

  Tony gives the gas can a shake, draining what remainder of fuel is left inside into the tank of the truck. He removes the nozzle and tosses it back into the bed of the truck.

  “What do you think, James?” Tony grabs the gas cap and secures it into place.

  “No,” I reply. “I think you’re a bit on the crazy side, but if you wanted to kill us, you would’ve done it already.”

  “Mind if I have a smoke?” Tony moves around to the back of the truck. He lowers the tailgate, and fishes about in his pant pockets, then moves up to his camo breast pocket that is bulged out. He removes a pack of cigarettes—Marlboro 100s, Gold pack.

  “I haven’t had a smoke in nearly five years,” he says, hopping onto the tailgate.

  I lean against the truck and lace my arms across my chest. “My dad used to smoke too when he was in the service. He always told me that it calmed his nerves and helped him stay focused. Took the edge off.”

  “Your dad was in the service? What branch?” Tony inquires as he looks at me.

  “He was in the Marines. He did a lot of black ops, off the books kind of stuff. I asked him many times about what he did, but he never told me. Partly because he couldn’t, but I think he also wanted to shield me from the things he did, good and bad,” I say.

  “God, there seemed to be more bad stuff than good. After a while, it wears on you. The lines become blurred, and you start to lose yourself if you’re not careful. It’s important to remember that life is valuable, James.” Slapping the box against the palm of his hand, Tony tears open the top. He pulls a cigarette out. Staring off into space, he slips it between his lips and pauses. My dad had that same look at times when he thought about those days, remembering where he was and the things he did.

  “You okay?” I softly inquire with a tilt of my head.

  “Yeah, kid.” Tony ignites the red fluorescent lighter, and torches the end of the tobacco rich stick. Taking a deep drag, he closes his eyes and exhales the smoke. “Man, never thought I’d miss that.”

  I ask, “Does everyone that’s in the service smoke?”

  “Smoke, drink, chase a little tail,” Tony replies with a chuckle and grin. “It’s hard not to pick up some bad habits. Before I went into the service, I didn’t smoke or drink, but your dad was right. Sometimes, you just need something to take the edge off, regardless of what it is. Want one?”

  Want one? The last time I attempted to smoke was a few years back. I got into Dad’s pack and snuck one outside. Before I could even light it up, Mom caught me and went off. Man, she was so pissed. I think Dad got an ear full as well. Still, I’m curious, though.

  “Sure.”

  Tony tosses the pack to me. He has that white and gold stick clutched tightly between his lips. I pull one free and stick it in my mouth. It tastes bad already. The smell is less than to be desired, but maybe it’ll get better?

  He gives me a light. My lips suck on the end. The smoke builds inside my mouth. It hits me hard, gagging me at first and making it difficult to breathe. I cough deeply and repeatedly, trying to get some air.

  “The first time is always a bitch, kid. Take it slow.” Tony motions with his hands to pace myself.

  Blowing the smoke out, I clear my throat and try to regain my coolness. I take another drag, this time taking it slow and not as deep.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah,” I reply with a cough or two. It tastes horrible. I don’t recall ever having anything as foul as this in my life. Not sure why anyone would want to do this. I guess for some, you just get used to it.

  Tony finishes off the last little bit of his cigarette. He presses the end into the tailgate, putting out the bud, flicks it onto the road, and hops down from the truck’s bed.

  “Well, seeing that I no longer have a ride and we seem to be having a pretty good rapport here, would you mind if I tagged along with you and your friend?”

  I know Dawson would probably say no before Tony could finish speaking, but I think it might not be a bad idea to keep him around. Besides, he didn’t really need to ask and if he wanted to, he could take the truck from us.

  “I think we have some room in the cab if you want to come up there,” I offer.

  “All right, then,” Tony replies with a smile.

  Putting the tailgate up, I walk back to the driver’s side of the truck and open the backseat door. We have some food and other odds and ends in the seats which I shove over to give some room.

  “What are you doing?” Dawson moans from his semi reclined position.

  “I’m making some room back here for me to sit,” I respond as I push our rations and other items to the side some.

  “Why are you sitting back-” Dawson stops talking as he spots Tony standing outside next to the truck. I can tell he’s not happy by the heavy breathing and the long drawn out sigh. He’ll get over it.

  “Tony’s coming with us. I figure it would be better if he drove since he’s an adult,” I say.

  “Listen, James, as much as I want to pick up every-” Dawson pauses and looks over to Tony. “Can you give us a second?”

  “Sure,” Tony replies, stepping away from the truck.

  “As much as I want to pick up every random hitchhiker and pray that they don’t slit our throats the first chance they get, I don’t want him tagging along with us,” Dawson says.

  “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,” I calmly respond as I clear enough space on the seat.

  “He nearly took my head off earlier,” Dawson sharply snaps.

  “He saved your life too and just nicked your ear. Maybe you need to show a little gratitude, man,” I tersely respond back. “He stopped one of those things from making you a snack.”

  “I am grateful. I just don’t want him tagging along with us anymore. Besides, this is my truck. Don’t forget that.” Dawson stares out the front window.

  “You know, you’re right. This is your truck.” I grab my gear and remove it from the backseat. “Come on, boy.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Dawson’s head twists back toward me with a bewildered look filling his face.

  “Walking until I can find my own transportation.”

  Duke jumps out of the cab and rushes to my side.

  In disbelief, Dawson shakes his head. “Really, dude? You’re going to walk to your mom and sister with those things crawling all over the place because I don’t want that creepy Marine guy with us?”

  “If I need to, yes. You coming?” I ask Tony.

  He says nothing as the three of us start walking, leaving Dawson alone in the truck. I might have overreacted a bit, but if I know Dawson, he’ll get my point.

  “Listen, James, I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t want to cause any problems between you and your friend. I can find my own way from here,” Tony solemnly says.

  “It’s not a problem, Tony. He’s just being a dick and hardheaded. Just like when we were in school.”

  Duke runs ahead of
us, sniffing the ground and trailing off to the left into a patch of weeds. I hear the squeaking of the truck door and Dawson’s ever annoying heavy breathing.

  “James, hold up!” Dawson yells.

  We keep walking. I don’t give as much as a twitch or turn of my head.

  “Dude, seriously.”

  “I already told you I’m done, man,” I shout back while keeping my steady pace and my focus dead ahead.

  “All right, man.” Dawson grabs me by my shoulder. I turn around and peer at him with pursed lips. “Sorry for being a douche bag back there. There’s been a lot that’s happened in the past few days. To be completely honest, I’m scared out of my mind. Right now, you and Duke are the closest thing I’ve got to family, and I don’t want to lose that.”

  “I get it. I’m scared too, but right now we need to stick together if we hope to make it through this,” I sneer. Dawson is my best friend, but right now, he’s just getting on my last nerve.

  Tony moves off on the side of the road, giving us a little space. He pets Duke and plays fetch with him.

  “Looks like he’s warmed up to him rather quickly,” Dawson comments as Duke runs after a stick that Tony threw.

  “He’s different with everybody. Some he gets comfortable with faster than others,” I reply with a smirk, nudging Dawson in the side.

  “Whatever, dude,” Dawson scoffs.

  I ask, “So, we good?”

  Dawson nods. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Good. Now stop being a prick,” I say, playfully slapping Dawson in the face. I catch his wounded ear by accident.

  “Christ, man.” Dawson clutches his ear with a grimace of pain. “Thanks a lot. It was starting to feel better.”

  My hand covers my mouth as I grab his shoulder. “Sorry man, didn’t mean to get the ear, just your face.”

  “Whatever. Can we get going now?” Dawson responds, his face contorted with discomfort.

  “Sure. Let me get Tony and Duke real quick.”

  Holding his black and blue ear, that is slightly puffy and caked with a thin layer of blood, Dawson heads back to the truck.

  “Is everything ok?” Tony inquires as he kneels down.