Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  I leave it at that and walk away. Like all things now, I’ll have to improvise and do my best with what I’ve got, which is literally nothing. Oh well. It is what it is, I guess.

  I unlatch the door and carefully crack it open. I peer out into the space between the two buildings, checking to make sure the area is clear of any chasers or those people. There isn’t a soul in sight. I peer out and around the edge of the door toward the rear of the building. No movement.

  My hands push the door open far enough for me to slip through. I step clear of the building, and allow the door to close. I trudge through the overgrown weeds, and make for the street.

  Something moves behind me.

  I stop and spin about on the heels of my boots. I bring the machete up over my head with the intention of slaying whatever might be there.

  Shane pauses and puts his hands up. “Whoa, man. Chill. It’s just me.”

  I sigh, and lower the dense blade. “What do you want, Shane? I don’t have any more time for your crap, man.”

  He lowers his hands, and relaxes his defensive posture. His furrowed brow and angered face have all but changed to that of guilt and embarrassment. Another look that I’m familiar with.

  “I’m not here to fight or argue with you,” he says.

  “Then why are you here?”

  Shane tugs at the pump action on the shotgun. He stares at me with an intense gaze. “I’m coming with you.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Did I hear him correctly?

  Perhaps my pointed words jabbed him deep enough for him to take action, and stop being an ass. I’m not sure if it will change that last part, but at least now, I can hopefully get what I need.

  “You’re coming with me?” I clarify. I’m a bit taken back by his words. I know he has been chomping at the bit to go after his brother and sister, but he hasn’t wanted to leave because of his family who are here. “What about your mom and grandfather?”

  Shane tilts his head forward. He removes the black beanie and digs his fingernails into the back of his scalp, as if to relieve a bothersome itch. He pulls back his semi-long strands of black hair, and secures the beanie back in place.

  “To be honest, my mother is more than capable of taking care of herself. She’s killed a number of those chasers on her own. I know she may look fragile and unintimidating, but when push comes to shove, she has no problem throwing down if need be.”

  I’m not one to underestimate anyone’s skillset in this hostile environment. Every person I come across is assumed to be able to handle themselves in a fight. I’d rather size people up that way than to be foolish, and think that they are meager just because of their looks. One thing I have learned so far in the apocalypse is that women are just as capable of taking care of themselves as men.

  “Then why haven’t you gone to look for your brother and sister?” I pose.

  I recall the conversation that Beverly and I had earlier about him, and I get it. Shane’s being pulled in two different directions. He’s trying to find some magical way of being able to protect his family here while also trying to save his siblings. It’s a tightrope that he must walk. I hope he doesn’t ask my opinion on the matter, though, as I am the last person in this world he needs to pump for advice. I’m doing what I think is best for me and my remaining family. I might be wrong, but it is my decision to make.

  “Honestly, I’m scared. Not so much of the chasers, or the people that have my sister, but scared of what I might find,” he sincerely replies. “Not going out and searching for them maintains the hopeful illusion that they’re still alive. If I do find them, and they are dead or turned into those abominations, I’m not sure I can handle that. I guess that’s why I’ve stayed put.”

  Man. I wasn’t expecting all of that from a guy his age. Not that this cataclysmic event doesn’t have everyone left alive, and uninfected, scared to the marrow. We’re all battling demons that won’t leave us be. It’s a tiresome fight, and one that completely drains a person. Almost like a parasite that sucks every last bit of strength and resolve one might have.

  “Listen, you do what you feel you need to do. Come or don’t. Doesn’t matter to me as long as you can just tell me where to go,” I respond point blank. “I have no doubts that your mother is more than capable of handling any threat that could arise. Besides, Lucas and my dog are up there as well. They will protect them if it comes to that.”

  Shane smirks, and runs his fingers over the stubble sprouting around his mouth. “Man. You sure don’t act like any kid I’ve ever met before. Not even Jenny’s friends, who are about the same age, acted the way you do.”

  “Everything has changed. The world isn’t what it was. I’ve had to grow up really fast over these past few months. Survive or die. That’s the name of the game now. I’ve got friends and family who are counting on me. I can’t let them down.”

  Shane nods. “They’re lucky to have you then, James.”

  I return the gesture in kind. Not that I needed it, but it does feel kind of nice to have Shane tagging along. Not only does he know where we’re going, but an extra set of eyes keen to the chasers and those people will certainly come in handy.

  “Now that we have that settled, care to lead the way?” I step to the side and lean back against the wood siding of the building, allowing Shane to slip past me. I trail him out onto the street.

  The warmth of the sun slices through the morning clouds overhead and splashes us in the face. It’s still a bit cold and all, but having the strident rays is a nice change of pace. I prefer the daylight over the darkness anyway. It may not be as safe, but the nighttime still gives me the creeps.

  Shane glances along the street that Lucas and I barreled down not too long ago, then straight ahead at a passage that leads behind some buildings.

  “How far away is the place where they’re keeping them?” I inquire.

  He points diagonally to the north. “On the other side of town. Donny said it was some old, abandoned factory or something like that.”

  “Are there many chasers around these parts? Some of the towns we have been through have been hit or miss.”

  Shane shrugs. “Not entirely sure. We were just passing through when those a-holes got the jump on us. Aside from the small horde of chasers who came upon us when they took Jenny, we haven’t seen too many more since then.”

  For me, I like to think everywhere we go is going to be infested with the creatures. I’d rather be ready for them than to have my guard down, and think that we are in the clear when we’re not.

  I point toward the back end of the buildings. “Probably should stick close to the structures. Stay out of sight in case they come back trolling for us.”

  “Agreed.” Shane takes point and heads across the street with his shotgun clutched tightly in his hands. I follow close behind with the machete ready to hack and cleave if need be. The rifle is still slung across my body. I meant to leave it with Lucas as I don’t plan on using it. Oh well. I guess I’ll hold onto it just in case we get into a bind, and I find some use for it. The last thing we need to do is attract any unwanted attention. Speaking of which…

  “Hey, do you have any other weapons on you besides that shotgun?” I pose.

  Our thick-soled boots crunch over the loose gravel. We trudge along the makeshift road with the old, haggard buildings shielding us from prying eyes.

  “Only other thing I’ve got is this knife on my hip. That’s about it. Why?” Shane says.

  I scan each structure and check for any chasers who may be lurking within the dark spaces. Each is void of any gaunt bodies waiting to charge out and attack.

  “We really want to minimize any noise that might draw attention to us,” I retort. “Discharging that shotgun will be like ringing the dinner bell. I would only use it as a last resort, and stick with your knife. Silent and efficient. Stab them in the head, and the rest is gravy.”

  “Good call. Most times, I’m more of a sledgehammer guy than anything else.”
Shane turns to face me while still walking backwards. He trains the shotgun off to this left and pretends to fire. He makes the noise and everything. “Just one of the many ways I like to relieve stress. Removing their freaking heads with blunt force. Did you ever see Gallagher do any standup?”

  Shane lowers the shotgun. He slips the attached strap over his shoulder, and removes the hefty hunting knife from the sheath fixed to his waist.

  “The name sounds familiar, but I don’t recall ever watching it.” I think Dad used to watch some of his stuff when I was younger. Not sure, though.

  Shane’s mouth gapes open, and his eyes bulge from his skull. “I know you’re young and all, James, but the dude was freaking great. You’ve definitely missed out. He always did this bit with bringing out a variety of food and these large watermelons. He would get his makeshift hammer and smash them to bits with it. Chunks of food would fly out in every direction. Kind of makes me wish I had that beast of a tool here with me now. It would definitely make short work of any chasers.”

  He presses his hands together and acts out the creature’s head being smashed and blown out in every direction. Not exactly what I would call fun or exciting, but to each their own, I guess.

  I offer a half-smile just to shut Shane up. He spins back around with the knife in his hand. This guy is nothing short of a basket case. He’s all over the place mentally, acting as though killing the chasers is some sort of sport or comedy special. Listening to him makes it that much harder to really concentrate on our environment. I’m more concerned with navigating this town and getting Cassie and the others away from those people as fast and quietly as possible. Although, I’m not opposed to pointless banter, now is not the time I want to do that.

  Wow, listening to those words rattle loosely about inside my skull makes me sound like Dad. It’s not a bad thing by any means. The more I take from the words of wisdom that he bestowed upon me over the years, the better off I’ve been. I’m still alive and breathing. Right now, that’s job one.

  We continue on through the town. Shane has refrained from any more chatter that isn’t dire to what our current situation requires. I’m thankful for that. I’m not sure I could stand another word before I lose my mind. I think he picked up on my lack of enthusiasm, though. I’m not looking to chum it up with anyone right now. I am focused on what needs to happen. That is all.

  Taking in the abandoned town brings a sense to me that makes me feel as though we are on another planet. It’s really strange to not see any sort of daily life happening. People shopping, or kids going to school. The humming of cars and trucks bustling up and down the streets and highways. The smell of exhaust. I never put too much thought into those small, trivial things. Not until their absence was really felt, and dare I say it, missed. Perhaps one day everything will get back to normal, whatever that may be.

  “Whoa, hold up for a minute.” Shane’s hand springs up into the air. He slows his pace and stops. He takes a few steps to his left, and hugs the reddish brick wall of the building we’re traveling behind.

  I follow suit. “What’s wrong?”

  He places his finger firmly to his lips to silence me. I find that ironic, given his random babbling from earlier. He points toward the street we’re coming up on. “Thought I heard something.”

  I listen closely. It’s faint, and barely audible, which makes me think of one thing. Chasers.

  “There may be some chasers close by. We need to be careful.”

  Shane flips the knife around with the tip pointing toward me and the serrated blade facing the ground. He brings it up into a defensive position as he carefully steps to the corner of the building.

  Slow and steady, he inches his way along the wall to the corner. He pauses, but only briefly. He braces himself, for whatever might be on the side, and takes in a sharp breath before glancing out into the street.

  I grip the machete’s handle tighter. I take in a big gulp of air, and slowly vent it through my nose and mouth. Whether there is one or a hundred, I’ll plow through them if necessary. Whatever it takes.

  “I count maybe six chasers total. Four in the street and two on the sidewalk close to... Oh crap.” Shane reels his head back in as panic sets on his flush face. His chest heaves slightly, breathing elevated as his body presses against the brick wall. The sudden movement makes me bring the machete up into the air.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  He glances past the corner as far as he can without giving away our position to the creatures.

  “I think one of the chasers on the sidewalk may have seen me. He turned and glanced back this way, but it was hard to tell if he actually noticed me. He was missing one eye and the other look like chewed dog meat, so I don’t know.”

  I grab Shane’s arm and move him down the wall past me. I hug the rigid surface of the brick wall with my left shoulder while keeping the machete up and ready to strike a lethal blow. I near the edge of the structure, and peer out far enough to get eyes on the chasers.

  The ones in the street are ambling about. Their shoulders droop forward with their heads dangling toward the ground as if they have no purpose or will to move with haste. Each step they make looks laborious at best.

  My gaze shifts to the left, past the dust-covered green sedan, to the two chasers meandering along the sidewalk. The one closest to us shuffles its tattered white shoes in our direction. It stops. It’s head tilts back slightly with its mangled nose trained in the air. It stays frozen in that position for a few seconds before lowering its head back down. I don’t think it can actually see or detect us as it doesn’t look directly at the corner of the building. I think it’s responding to some movement that it might have heard.

  I lean against the wall, and shift my attention back to Shane who looks ready to throw down. His arms are up in the air in front of him. Wrinkles form above his brow as a serious, focused look washes over his face.

  “I don’t think that one can see. If it had spotted you, it would’ve signaled in some way. It’s not advancing toward us,” I say.

  Shane points the end of his blade across the street at the buildings that line the opposite side of the road. “I’m not sure running across the street would be a wise decision. I see no outlet over there, and I’m not sure exactly sure what’s inside those buildings.”

  I nod in agreement.

  Rushing into a building with no clue what is lurking inside is never a good idea. Especially when you run the risk of having a pack of chasers hot on your butt. It could prove to be fatal.

  “Is there no other way we could go?”

  Shane scratches at the scruff on his chin and the side of his face. He shifts his gaze to the right, and down the street. More buildings continue on along the long, desolate road.

  “We could try to make our way down there, but I’m not sure where we would go after crossing behind that last building. Could be a ton more chasers over there.”

  Crap. Not what I wanted to hear.

  I’m not looking to add any more time to this venture. Cassie can’t afford it, and neither can my sister. The longer things take, the more I feel as though the people I care about are one step closer to being in the grave, or worse yet, turned by the creatures. I can’t have that happen. Not again.

  Do whatever it takes to get to them. Just make it happen.

  I glance back to Shane, and turn my hat backward on my head. There’s really only one way for us to tackle this. We’re going to have to go through them. I’m not sure if he’s going to be down to go along or not, but he really doesn’t have a choice. He made the choice to come, and if he wants to rescue his family, he’s going to have to do whatever is necessary to ensure that happens.

  The chasers are in our way, and I plan on plowing the road.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “You want to do what again?” Shane lifts his right eyebrow slightly in the air. He exhales a deep sigh of uncertainty through his taut lips. He shakes his head and offers a single nod.

 
“We do this right, and we’ll be able to manage their numbers easier than if we were to run out there, and try to take them all on at once,” I reassure. “It’s not the best approach, but the only one we’ve got to work with.”

  “All right. Let’s do this.”

  I take the side of the machete, and gently rap it against the side of the brick building. I peer far enough around the corner to watch their response. I hope that we’ll be able to attract the two who are on the sidewalk, without snaring the other four’s attention.

  At first, the chasers appear to be deaf to the noise. They continue their mindless stumbling about. I try again, but tap the blade a tad bit harder against the edge of the building. The one closest to us stops once more and turns back this way. There is no wondering if it heard a noise or not. It instantly heads this way. It’s not in a dead sprint, but more of a fast-paced stumbling walk due to its meager legs that are riddled with large gashes, and chunks of muscle, and flesh that look to have been torn free.

  I step back from the corner, and ready myself with the machete. Shane stands just behind me and off to my right with his knife in the air.

  The chaser’s shallow growls grow louder as it nears the corner. My heartrate increases with every yowl that escapes its lips. I remain in control, though, not letting loose the desire to savagely attack the creature.

  The chaser stumbles into view and spots us. It’s once clunky movement and lack of violent behavior instantly shifts to a frenzied rage of hunger. Its blood-stained mouth widens, revealing the discolored and rotting teeth festering inside its gaping cavity. Dirt and grime coat the chaser’s face as it roars.

  It reaches out for me, fingers fidgeting with the hopes of snaring my jacket. I bury the sharp edge of the machete in the front part of its decomposing skull. It doesn’t take much force to penetrate its head. The bone crunches, followed by a squishing sound. A steady stream of blood races down the middle of its face.