Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

Given how I’ve seen Cassie handle herself with the chasers, I don’t doubt her words.

  I nod. “How are we going to find this research facility in California? That’s a lot of ground and chasers to contend with.”

  Silence befalls us as we each think about the best way to approach the matter. It’s difficult to concentrate at the moment. Dealing with the trauma of my mother’s death has not been conducive to critical thinking.

  Cassie’s head pivots from side to side as she scans over the building. What is she looking for? “Maybe they have some sort of map or something in one of these offices showing other installations that are relatively nearby? A city or something.”

  Lucas shrugs. “It’s possible. Better than what we’ve got to go on right now.” Lucas trains his gaze over to Scott who is still in his own little world, pacing about the cluttered mess of jumbled up cots. I see a lot of his turmoil in me. I am struggling to keep the demons at bay. I am way past the point of returning to the childish things that I once treasured above all else such as playing video games or lying in my bed watching movies as I drown myself in Mountain Dew and gorge through a mound of junk food. This traumatic experience has forced me into adulthood, whether I was prepared for it or not. Fortunately for me, I’ve been lucky enough to come across individuals who have helped me keep hold of what humanity lingers inside my soul.

  “Should we ask him if he might know?” Cassie inquires.

  “I’ll go ask him real quick. We shouldn’t hang around any longer than we have to,” Lucas turns and nods toward the front entrance. “Who knows how many more chasers are in the area.”

  Cassie nudges my arm once more. “James and I will start going through the offices to help speed things up.”

  “Good idea. Keep your eyes and ears open.” Lucas shifts his gaze to me. “And James.”

  “Yeah.”

  He tilts his head to the right slightly and gives me that parental stare that I’ve seen more than once before on my mom and dad’s face.

  “No more lone wolf stunts, all right?”

  I dismiss his words of caution with an idle shrug. “I make no promises.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lucas heads toward the back of the building where Scott is. I pat my leg twice, which snaps Duke to attention. We turn about and head toward the double plastic doors that lead out of the overly large space.

  Cassie follows close behind as we exit through the office and out into the darkness of night. We pause briefly as I stare out into space. The stillness of the compound invades my already rattled and frayed nerves.

  Faint moans and something shuffling its feet through the grass plays in my ears as if the creatures are lurking within the ether of shadows that swarm the recessed places around us. I can’t tell if it’s real or not, considering Cassie doesn’t seem to be on edge.

  Cassie’s blonde ponytail bounces with each step she makes, subtly swinging from side and side. She pauses. Then looks to her left, then right. She nods toward the facility that we discovered my mother in. “I’ll check that one out, and see what I can find.” She then points to the structure to our left that has a multitude of what appears to be antennae or something jetting up through the roof. “Do you want to check that out? That could be a communication building or something like that.”

  I continue to stare off into the unknown, thinking about my life and what all has happened thus far. My eyes drop down to my hands. The stench of death lingers from my palms. People I have lost. Killed even. Dad, Mom, and Dawson. I finally respond. “Yeah. I’ll check it out.”

  “Be careful, and watch your back.”

  I nod. “You too.”

  Cassie walks behind me and makes for the structure. Her thin frame melds with the darkness and fades to nothing more than a shadowy figure moving through the bleakness of the night.

  Duke and I turn toward the other structure. The machete stays tightly grasped against my palm. My eyes cut downward to Duke, who is resting on his hind legs, waiting patiently for me to give a command.

  “Come on, boy.”

  He springs to his paws, and stays right by my side as we cautiously navigate the cluttered grounds. Stacks of large military crates rest in the grass. A number of the immense totes have busted open, and their contents lay scattered. Looks like MREs and bottled water mixed in with medical supplies. The large lumps I noticed earlier are in fact deceased bodies. His head tilts to the earth with his snout mere inches from the matted down grass.

  My eyes shift from side to side, evaluating the cluster of crates, and other miscellaneous junk that litters the compound’s interior. I peer out beyond the fence and scour for any chasers that may be inbound. It’s hard to pierce the veil of night. I can spot the outlines of the vehicles parked along the street, and what seems like shadowy figures swiftly moving this way.

  I blink a few times and dig my fingers into my eyes. The dark images are gone. Am I losing my mind? Am I being swallowed up in the mouth of my own grief or personal torment?

  My father told me of friends of his that suffered from PTSD after returning from service overseas. He spared me any details, but did tell me how it affected them, and the struggles they faced after returning to their daily lives. Given the horrors that I have seen, and the lives that have been taken, I understand now how they feel. I am unsure if I could ever go back to my old life. One can not simply switch off the hell they’ve endured. I didn’t know then what my father truly meant. Now, I do.

  Mom told me that he had it as well after he was done with the service, although not as bad as most others. It took him some time and counseling to really get past it all, but eventually he overcame it.

  For me, I am unsure how I’ll be able to get past it in a time where your guard has to be up twenty-four seven. There is no couch for me to lay on. No shrink to sit across from me with a pen and paper and dissect my young mind to sort out the mess that this biblical event has caused.

  The only way I see myself remotely dealing with my broken heart and fractured soul is by releasing my grief out into the world on those who deserve it. Not the best approach to deal with such a matter, I know, but given the alternatives, it is all I’ve got to keep me going on. To keep me from completely going insane.

  As Duke and I get closer to the other building, I see brief flashes of light emit from the interior. I pause and hold Duke up. I crane my neck, and narrow my eyes at the window molded within the door. There is no movement that I can see from here, although that doesn’t mean much.

  What in the world is going on?

  Could the structure have some sort of generators set up close by that is providing them with power? I imagine that would be the most logical answer here. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter what is going on. I need to check it out. After all, it is for Cindy that I am doing this.

  I finish rationalizing out the flickering of the lights as the generator’s failing. I need to get in there while there is still power. It’ll be much easier to search for any map or whatever with light. That, and it will aid in helping me spot any chasers that could be lurking within the confines of the building.

  “Stay close, boy, and keep your ears perked for any of those creatures, ok?”

  Duke responds with a single ruff.

  Bringing the machete up, we continue toward the entrance of the building. My gaze cuts down to the left side of the structure, trying to penetrate the murkiness. I notice a square-like object barely visible from where I am. I tilt my head slightly to the left and listen.

  The faint humming of a grumbling motor catches my attention. My hunch was accurate. I’m willing to bet the other structures around the school grounds are set up similarly and will be failing before too long if they’re not fed any fuel.

  I step up on the wide platform that leads inside the structure. Each stride of my legs is swift and calculated. My back presses against the smooth, cool exterior of the complex just to the left of the door. Duke remains by my side as we move as one. I paus
e just shy of the window. I push up to the tips of my toes and crane my neck to sneak a peak of what I’m in store for. I don’t want any surprises, but I’ll deal with whatever comes my way.

  From where I am, it’s difficult to make anything out clearly. The lights flash then dim to almost nothing before surging back to life.

  Great.

  “Stay ready, boy.”

  Duke cautiously moves toward the opening. I press the length of my arm to the door with my palm open and flush to the surface. I push slowly, trying to keep the hinges from blurting their warning signal and alerting any creatures that could be lurking within.

  My guard is up, and my breathing is controlled and calm. I’m poised and ready to strike with lethal intent if need be.

  The further the door opens, the better sense I get of what I’m walking into. Similar to the last building, a scene of death and mayhem fills my focused gaze. Between the flashes of intermittent light that illuminate the space, I soak in the disheveled state of the complex.

  It doesn’t appear to have housed any civilians, given the array of computers and perhaps some type of cellular transmitters and other technical military equipment. Ultimately, I am lost as to what they are.

  Pushing the door open farther, I step inside. Duke follows along quietly. His nose trains to the grates as he investigates the scene.

  Unlike the other two buildings, this unit is set up differently than the rest. Toward the middle, there are numerous sections of the complex that are portioned off with makeshift walls. To the right are multiple doors that reveal access to other areas. There are still no signs of any chasers, or dead bodies for that matter. Which, given the state of this facility, and the amount of blood that is slathered on the walls, makes me wonder where the corpses are.

  I’m not really sure where I should start, so I just go to each desk and start thumbing through paperwork. To be honest, it is more of a task than I thought it would be.

  Papers lay slathered over the tops of the desks. The cork boards mounted above each have numerous documents and maps of Oregon pinned to their fronts. Red X’s are marked on various cities and towns, which quickly spread like wildfire over the state. It doesn’t exactly leave me with a warm and comforting feeling. Not that any of those sorts of emotions are present currently. The scenery that I’ve absorbed while on my journey has been nothing short of a world caught in the grips of the end. Like most movies that I’ve watched over my relatively short life, the real thing is much more depressing than the fake Hollywood stories. For obvious reasons.

  Duke continues his search of the facility. He heads toward the rear of the structure.

  “Don’t stray too far away, boy,” I call out.

  He pauses briefly, and looks back my way before continuing his investigation.

  A low buzzing noise emits from the overhead lights that are fighting to stay alive. The ever-persistent annoyance keeps me motivated to work as diligently as I possibly can before I’m left in the darkness. Not ideal for sure.

  Desk after desk is cleared. My eyes skim over each document that I feel could be of possible value. Most are laden with jargon that is either lost on me or doesn’t contain the location of the other facility that I’m after.

  I growl under my breath.

  Christ! Damn it!

  My arm sweeps the contents off the desk. Papers flutter in the air. Office supplies clatter off the grated floor.

  Duke stops. His head cuts back toward me as his ears stand on end. His left paw springs up off the floor as he stares at me. I can only imagine what is going through his head. He’s probably wondering which one of us is the animal in this scenario.

  He continues scouring the facility. I stand there for a moment with my hands on my hips. The tension and anger that I was able to quell is coming back with a vengeance. Taking in the mountain of work kills any good vibes trying to bring me back from the mouth of madness.

  Wait. What is that?

  Across the way from me a larger map is fixed to a wall. I narrow my eyes and skim it over. It looks to encompass not only Oregon, but a few of the surrounding states to the north, east, and south.

  I give in to my curiosity. Nothing else I’ve dug through has born any edible fruit.

  I walk over to the desk across from me. I give a quick look to Duke who enters the narrow hallway between the two sets of walls. His matted and dirty, yellowish fur fades in and out of the flickering lights.

  Pushing the chair away from the front of the desk, I rest the machete on its top. Both palms lay flat on the scattered papers. I lean forward for a closer look. The amount of red marks is much less than what I have seen thus far, and don’t encompass most of the towns and cities. Could these be other military installations that the government has set up to battle the infection?

  My finger struggles to hone in on our current location. It’s hard to make out clearly because of the intermittent lights going out, but I manage to finally find us by the red X that is circled just south of Portland.

  The tip of my finger remains pressed on the X as my eyes glide down Interstate 5 into California. Town after town is passed until I come to another red X close to the Interstate. Yreka. Is that it?

  There are two more located further south along the same route, plus a bunch more that populate the rest of the state. It’s hard to tell if Yreka is the right one or not, but I’m willing to find out. If it’s not, I’ll move on to the next one.

  A deep seated growl and brief sharp bark escapes Duke’s snout, which snares my focus away from the map. I crane my neck toward the back of the facility. I can’t get a good look at him from where I stand.

  I rip the map off the wall and haphazardly fold it up. The crinkled, large paper is shoved into my back-pant pocket with little care of its condition. I reach for the machete as he continues his short burst of deep ruffs.

  “What is it, boy?”

  I move away from the desk and position myself in the middle of the facility where I have a clear line of sight at Duke. His head is trained toward the bottom of a door as he sniffs and paws at the wood. I look up at the lights, unsure how much life they have left.

  “Duke, come on. Let’s go.”

  He ignores me, his attention on the door.

  My voice grows curt as I dial up the volume of my tone. “Duke. Now. I’m not playing. Let’s go.” My free hand raps against my upper thigh twice, hard. He pauses and stares at me before going back to scratching at the door.

  Ugh.

  “There better be something amazing in there, dude.” I quickly make my way toward him through the mess of tipped over furniture and the other tech equipment that has been ransacked—a narrow trail for me to follow through.

  The closer I get to the narrow hallway that runs the remaining length of the facility, the more a sinking feeling swirls in the depths of my stomach. A sense of dread washes over me as I pause at the opening.

  Duke’s two doors down on the right. He isn’t focused on anything else except for that particular space.

  Come on, dude.

  What remainder of power the structure was sucking from the generator finally stops, and my world instantly goes black. I gasp. My body clenches up as I draw a sharp breath of panic that swells inside of me.

  The glow of something off to my left catches my attention, followed by a beeping noise that sounds off every couple of seconds. I search for the source and find a computer monitor on its side. The insistent beeping could be a battery backup supplying what power it can before it fails.

  The screen’s radiance shoots up through the turned over chairs and other damaged equipment toward the hallway. Contorted shadows are cast over the walls, which look more like demonic arms stretched out wide.

  I summon what courage is needed and make my way down the hall. After all, I’m James the punisher, the executioner of the wicked demons.

  The machete stays up and at the ready. I try to grasp it tighter, but it’s virtually impossible to do so. My eyes train to the left,
then the right quickly. The doors appear to be shut, but I don’t test the latches.

  I reach Duke who finally stops. My fingers encircle his collar and I pull him back from the door, scolding him. A thin shred of light from the screen reveals a set of fingers wiggling under the door.

  The tips are bloody. Most of the meat is gone, leaving only the bony ends. Subtle grunts and growls sift through the door’s wooden grain. Curious, Duke pushes forward as his snout reaches for the fidgeting digits. I hold him at bay, and try to remain silent as the door vibrates slightly. No words are spoken from the other side. No pleas for help or distress. Just the annoyance of not being able to break free of its prison.

  I leave the creature alone. I turn Duke’s attention in the direction of the entrance of the facility. He resists at first, pulling against me, but finally complies.

  The chaser trapped inside the space bangs against the door harder and harder. I guess it has figured out that something worthwhile lingers just beyond its reach.

  I peer over my shoulder and down toward the floor. Although difficult to see now, as my body is blocking out a chunk of the light, I cannot spot the chaser’s fingers anymore. With each punishing blow and growl, the chaser’s excitement gains in volume. What was once subtle raps against the wood is now more volatile. More intense.

  “Come on, boy. Let’s-”

  The door to my left bursts open, causing us to freeze in place and take a step back. The ghastly gray silhouette of a figure stumbles out into the narrow space and slams into the adjacent wall, blocking any sort of retreat.

  Duke barks and growls in the figure’s direction. I can’t get a clear view of its face, but I don’t think that’s overly necessary. What little bit I can make out tells me all I need to know.

  The vague hint of damaged flesh and moist skin fills my gaze. Rapid spates of grunts and anger escape through its lips. Its chest heaves swiftly as it comes for me.

  I go to strike the chaser with the machete. I manage to only get the blade lifted above my head before it collides with me, and shoves me back into the wall. The dull sounding thud of our bulk colliding with the wall resonates through the silent space. A slight yelp escapes my lips. The air briefly pulls from my lungs as disorientation overtakes me.