Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  I’ve lost sight of Duke, but can hear him growling and barking loudly now. His angry tone becomes muffled, more intermittent as I notice the chaser’s body being pulled and jolted about.

  The creature pays him no mind. His focus and shaded, grim face remain fixed on me. His teeth clatter rapidly as he forces his bulk toward me. The foul stench of death escapes the chaser’s lips. With wide eyes, that look more like hollow, endless pits that span into nothingness, he comes for my neck.

  My meager arms tremble in response. The machete is pinned above my head by the creature’s hand. I fight against the creature’s strength, pushing forward with the hopes that I’ll overtake him. It’s strong, and unwilling to yield to me. My fingers wrap around his moist throat as I attempt to push him back and add some space between us.

  The rage and determination to feast has the chaser’s system surging past any normal point. It’s difficult to combat. Even with Duke latched to its leg, pulling and tugging with all of his vicious grit, the chaser is not deterred.

  Still, I remain as collected as I can.

  Adrenaline fills my veins. The haunting images of my mother and father linger next to the creature’s shadowy face as Cindy’s sweet, innocent voice whimpers in my ear, “Don’t let me die, James. Please, save me.”

  Sadness, guilt, and a multitude of feelings pelt me all at once with an unrelenting aggression that I cannot defend against. My eyes narrow at the chaser as each becomes glassy. My jaw clamps shut. So much pressure is applied to my teeth that they feel as though they could shatter at any moment.

  The chaser who is trapped a few spaces down to my right continues its campaign. I cut my eyes briefly in the direction of the upheaval. The door surges violently as the wood starts to crack and give. I need to do something now or I’m a goner.

  I release a roar through teary eyes that sounds more like the creatures. My fingers separate from its damp, clammy throat. I quickly step to the right, allowing the chaser to lunge face first into the wall with a dull, blunt thud.

  The arm wielding the machete comes free just as the door behind me breaks loose. Splintered wood cracks and pops, filling the cacophony of chaos that has engulfed the hallway. The scared boy I was when this apocalyptic event first started gives way to a less timid, violent animal.

  Swept up in the mayhem and darkness, I strike with the machete hard and fast. I hack at the back of the chaser’s neck repeatedly in the same spot. Through flesh and bone, the broad blade slices its way through the meat of the chaser’s body until its neck detaches from its lower half.

  Duke continues jerking at the creature’s leg. It slumps against the wall lifeless, and slides down the façade to the floor.

  The bumbling footing and quick pace of a chaser enters the hallway directly behind me. I turn on my heels, ready to engage the creature. Its bulk slams into me. I thrust forward, but keep myself from tripping over the dead chaser on the ground.

  Its arms snare me from around my chest. I can feel its rotting, balmy breath brush over my sweaty skin and fill my nose. The gut-wrenching odor turns my stomach over and ties it in knots as it fights to bite me.

  Not today, a-hole.

  I bend over as far as I can, placing as much distance between the chaser’s mouth and my flesh. Still clutching the blade tightly, I tilt to the left some and ram the tip of the machete into what I hope is the creature’s head.

  The blade hits something solid but pliable, squishing loudly before it pushes past and continues on. The crunching of bone fills my ears, followed by a squishing sound. The edacious pleas of the chaser muffle, and quickly lessens to nothing more than a few simple gasps of the creature taking its last breath.

  Gripping the handle of the machete, I yank it toward me. The full brunt of the chaser’s bulk hangs on my back like a weighted down backpack. Its body slides down my backside and to the floor as I take a step forward. Panting, I stand there for a second to collect myself.

  Duke sniffs the headless corpse before resting on his hind legs. I turn back toward the chaser. It’s outfitted in what appears to be military fatigues.

  Heavy footsteps from the front of the facility snare my attention. My head snaps back over my shoulder. I spot Duke twisting sharply around as well. A deep growl escapes his mouth. An unstable light source bounces over the dark walls that the screen’s glare cannot reach. Flooded with the taste of vengeance, I’m poised to dish out more killing.

  Fingers wet with the creature’s tainted blood reposition over the soggy handle. I spin about and raise the machete in the air to thwart the incoming threat. The intense glow of the yellow light beams me square in the face, blotting out the figure advancing toward us.

  “James! Are you ok?” Cassie worriedly asks.

  The machete remains in the air. I’m blinded by the intense strife that I just had with the headless creature bleeding out on the floor before me.

  It takes me a moment to register that it’s Cassie, and not a threat. I lower the blade slowly, and expel a sigh of spent energy from my lips. I nod wearily.

  The light moves away from my face and down toward the floor, illuminating the dispatched bodies of the military personnel. Duke lowers his ears and walks up to Cassie. She rubs his head and under his snout. He eats it up.

  Bent over, with the heels of my palms resting on my thighs, I share the good news. “I think I found out where they are keeping my sister.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Man. I’m tired.

  That is all I can think while standing among the deceased chasers that I put out of their misery. The high I was riding is coming to a grinding halt. I’m still pissed and livid at the world, but my body is feeling the brunt of my strenuous, and intense engagement. Any energy reserves that I had stored are nearly depleted.

  The news of finding some possible locations of where Cindy may have been taken in California has brought a smile to Cassie’s face. Although somewhat obscured by the shadow that is cast over a portion of her face, it is still nice to see.

  “Man, you look like hammered dog crap,” she observes. “Perhaps it’s all that carrying on and acting like you’ve lost your mind that has you so beat. Among other things, which would make sense.”

  I nod in agreement. I can’t deny anything she is saying. It’s all true. The constant bombardment of what the chasers have reduced me to, is a weight that is slowly crushing me—not only physically, but emotionally as well. The glint of hope that hangs on the horizon is my sister.

  “Do you have a map showing the locations?” Cassie inquires.

  I reach for my back pocket, and pull free the folded up thick paper. I start to unfolded it when the faint report of a gunshot echoes from outside the structure.

  We both freeze, and stare at one another. Cassie spins around to face the swinging doors toward the front. She retrieves the pistol from behind her back and trains the barrel at the entrance.

  Duke stays poised and on high alert next to her side. He hunches down some and growls under his breath.

  The waning of my energy is curbed for the moment as I find a pocket of stamina. My body tenses up, muscles surging with angst that causes me to breathe hard and heavy. Wielding the machete, I step over the dead bodies, and take my place to Cassie’s right. We offer one another a quick glance, and a subtle nod as heavy footsteps creep up.

  The outline of a figure rushing headlong at the doors comes into view through the slightly opened, dense plastic doors. Cassie has her flashlight trained at the entryway with the pistol resting on top of her wrist. A focused and intense gaze lingers on her face.

  The doors fly wildly open as Scott charges in. Cassie releases a sigh of relief as she lowers her weapon. “Christ,” she hisses. “I could’ve shot you.”

  Panic clouds his sweaty face. He peers back over his left shoulder, and side steps to the left as he nearly collides with a chair resting on its side. He loses his balance as his legs struggle to stay under him, but he manages to correct himself before stumbling into the mound
of wood and steel.

  “They’re coming! I told you, they were coming!” he frantically rants.

  We work our way through the pathway toward Scott who’s panting as if he just ran a marathon. His eyes are wide. Chest pulsating in and out as if it’s being inflated rapidly. He points at the doors sternly as if to warn of a coming threat.

  “What’s wrong?” I inquire.

  Cassie tilts the beam of the light up from the floor and in the direction of his face. He continues to point at the entrance as his legs fret in place. Beads of sweat race down from his thick grungy hair, which appears to be... red.

  Is that, blood? My mind races as I think of the only person who isn’t here. Lucas.

  Another gunshot sounds off, much closer this time.

  I grab him by the shoulders with a firm grip. He continues speaking faster than what I can keep up with as he points at the entrance. It all bleeds together with no pause or break to breathe.

  “Scott. Where is Lucas at? What’s going on out there?”

  He turns toward me and grabs me by the scruff of my jacket. He pulls me close, and looks at me with large, crazy eyes. “The chasers. More of them are out there. I don’t know how many. All I could see were shadowy figures moving within the darkness.”

  Duke bears his teeth, and barks and growls at Scott. I knock Scott’s hands free of my clothing, and take a step back.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I growl. “Whose blood is that on your face, and where in the hell is Lucas?”

  Cassie nudges my arm lightly. She focuses the light on the inside of Scott’s right forearm, highlighting the indentions and mangled flesh from a fresh bite mark.

  “One of those things tried to get me, but your friend saved my life,” Scott franticly says. “We need to get out of here now! There are some Humvees parked in the parking lot to the east. If we go now, I think we can make it.”

  He walks toward the door, but stops suddenly. His hands move up in front of him. I can’t see what he’s doing. He paces back and forth as if consumed by indecision. His manic behavior is causing the both of us to proceed with caution. After all, he’s been bitten. I don’t think he even realizes it with the way he’s acting.

  Cassie keeps her finger over the trigger of her pistol. Her eyes shift to me then back to Scott. He walks back toward us. She brings the pistol to bear.

  He halts, a look of shock flooding his face. His lips tremble with fear as he raises his hands in the air. “What the hell is this all about?”

  Cassie holds him at bay with the barrel of the pistol trained at his head. He takes a step forward as she bears down with the pistol. “Don’t come any closer, Scott,” she warns. “The inside of your right forearm. You’ve been bitten.”

  Confusion swirls in his eyes. He offers a brief look to his left first, then to his right. It takes a moment for the reality of what has happened to sink in.

  Blood drips from the tattered skin. His eyes widen with panic as tears stream down his dirty, flushed cheeks. He lifts his head up to us with a frantic, doomed look. “You’ve got to help me, please.”

  “What are we supposed to do?” Cassie inquires. “You’re already infected.”

  I snare Duke’s collar, and hold him in place. I don’t want him charging Scott unless absolutely necessary. Don’t want to take the risk.

  His trembling fingers play over his quivering lips as he tries to come up with the words to respond.

  The double doors at the entrance fly open as Lucas rushes in. Startled, Scott flinches and releases a frightful squeal as his body tenses up. Duke barks at first from the sudden surprise, but quickly halts his aggressive growling.

  “We need to leave, now,” Lucas says through panted breathing. He hurriedly gets back to the double doors and peers through the narrow slit. “I just took out a handful of those things. They seem to be coming out from every direction.”

  Glancing around Scott, I crane my neck in Lucas’s direction.

  “Can we make it to the truck?”

  He shakes his head, then shrugs. “Not sure, but I wouldn’t want to risk it. I think I saw more of the chasers moving about the vehicles in the street that runs in front of the school. It was hard to tell for sure because it’s dark.” He cuts his gaze back over his shoulder. A confused expression washes over him as he points to Scott. “Um, what’s going on here? Why do you have the pistol on him?”

  Scott advances toward Lucas.

  Cassie’s sweet, soothing voice morphs to that of a horse growl that stops him dead in his tracks. “I don’t want to kill you, but if you take one more step, I’ll place a slug in that head of yours.”

  Scott turns to his side. His eyes shift to us first, then to Lucas as he proceeds to plead his case. “Help me, please. Those kids have lost their minds. They’re trying to kill me.”

  Lucas diverts his gaze from Scott to me.

  “He’s been bitten. Inside right forearm,” I advise. Lucas shifts his eyes to Scott’s arm. Scott tries to conceal the gnarled flesh by bringing it closer to his body. “Could’ve happened earlier when you saved him from the chasers who were attacking him.”

  Lucas brings his shotgun up. He trains the barrels of the stout weapon at Scott’s chest. “Great. What’s our play here?”

  My fingers release from around Duke’s collar, and motion for him to stay put. I point to the left in the direction of the parking lot in front of the school.

  “Scott said that there are some Humvees out front of the school’s main entrance. Since we can’t get to the truck, we might try one of them.”

  “There could be more of them out that way as well,” Lucas counters.

  Cassie adds in her two cents. “True, but we really don’t have a choice here. We need to do something before we become completely overrun. I say we go for it.”

  Scott lowers his arms. He pleads with Lucas through sobbing teary muffles of sadness and desperation.

  “Please don’t leave me. Take me with you. Perhaps I’m not infected, and I’m like his sister. I don’t want to die here!”

  “You’re already dead,” I flatly say.

  Grunts from the chasers circulating around the main entrance of the structure capture our attention.

  Keeping the shotgun trained on Scott, Lucas tries to ascertain the creatures’ whereabouts. “What if we take him with us to the Humvees? He can take one, and we’ll take the other.”

  Scott shakes his head emphatically. “I won’t last two seconds out there on my own. The reason I survived here was because I was hiding, and it was quiet. That is, until you three showed up and started causing all sorts of unnecessary noise.”

  I’m done debating this. We need to leave now. Whatever happens to Scott is solely on his shoulders.

  “We’re done with this. It’s time to-”

  Heavy footsteps rush into the entrance of the building. Multiple grunts and growls fill the space. Lucas twists on his heels, and brings the shotgun to bear as the chasers throw open the doors.

  His shotgun belches fire from the barrels, illuminating the enraged chasers’ faces in a portrait of madness. The repercussion of the throaty blast batters my skull like a sledgehammer.

  The pellets rip through a chaser’s chest, and exit out through his back. It stumbles and drops to one knee briefly before trying to get going again.

  Scott tucks tail and bolts to the left. I flinch and bring the machete up in the air. He disappears through a set of doors that lead to another section of the facility.

  Chasers flood forward, slamming into Lucas. He’s thrown to the floor, air rushing from lungs in a whoosh. Prone on his back, he struggles to get his feet under him as the chasers go in for the kill.

  He kicks his legs at the creatures, knocking some back and off balance as they quickly regain their footing and come surging back.

  Duke takes off and engages one of the chasers wrestling with Lucas on the ground. His teeth try to find their mark on any portion of the chaser’s body that he can. He trie
s to bite the creature to our right on the leg, but is thwarted by a heavy hand that swats him in the head. A yelp escapes his snout. His body reels from the impact as he dumps over to his side.

  Cassie keeps the light trained on Lucas and the creatures. The barrel of the pistol pivots about.

  “I can’t get a clear shot!” she screams out.

  Lucas grunts as both of his hands keep the deranged chasers at bay. Wielding the machete, I strike with blind fury at the chasers’ limbs. The broad blade hacks and chops through the meaty portions.

  “Take Duke and get to the Humvees!” I shout. “We’ll be close behind!”

  Cassie’s lips purse. She has the pistol trained at the chasers attacking Lucas, searching for a clear shot that will avoid striking Lucas. I catch sight of her legs as she shuffles in place. “Come on, Duke.”

  Duke gets back to all fours as a deep-seated growl of pure animal rage looms through his throat.

  “No! Go with Cassie,” I harshly snap.

  Duke continues growling for a bit more before Cassie pats her leg sternly and calls his name. He complies with her command.

  They both leave out through the doors to our left—the same way that Scott did. The bright luminescence of the flashlight’s beam is reduced a dim glow from the dumped over computer screens.

  Lucas manages to bring his legs up to his chest. The soles of his boots press against the chaser’s lacerated chest. Fighting to get past, the chaser forces the full brunt of its weight down on him.

  “Damn things,” Lucas angrily spews through clenched teeth.

  The machete finally cleaves through the chaser’s arm that I’m working on. The limb plops to the floor next to Lucas. My free hand wraps around the side of its head and yanks toward me. It’s body dumps over onto its side. Dark fluid pumps from the missing appendage in bursts.

  Lucas brings the chaser closer before thrusting his legs hard forward. The creature flies back, crashing backward through the set of double doors. It crashes into the wall close by the opening to the building.