Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  The remainder of the hospital staff, and what few soldiers remain, are clustered in front of the nurses’ station ahead of us. Commander Reynolds stands before everyone. He cranes his neck and peers in our direction. He waves his hand, motioning for us to move faster.

  We pick up the pace, and trot down the hallway. Jacobson makes his way to the commander’s side as we gather at the back of the small crowd of people.

  The air is dense with tension. The grim looking expressions staring at Commander Reynolds through the shadows shows their apprehensiveness. Any subtle noise causes them to jump with wide, fearful eyes searching for the infected within the murk.

  Ms. Jones turns and looks over to me. Her head is fixed with a white bandage that has a red spot showing through the material. She glances down to Cindy, winks, and offers a half-smile that looks forced. I applaud the effort, presenting her with a thankful tilt of my head.

  The commander clears his throat. All eyes are honed in on his stern face. He doesn’t appear to be worried, at least not that I can tell. He looks focused, with lips taut and his gaze focused on his rag tag bunch of survivors that’s about to face a formidable foe.

  “I’m not going to sugarcoat anything. The next few hours are going be dicey. Not only are we facing the infected who are already down on the lower levels, but we have a much larger horde heading this direction. HQ is sending birds to evac us now, but it is going to take them some time to arrive. With that being said, our plan is to move to the top floor and hold out until they arrive. We’ll fortify any entry points and dig in.”

  Commander Reynolds sweeps over the crowd of faces hanging on his every word. Silent worries of doom and panic loom large, but everyone stays in control.

  I imagine that before coming on such a mission, a disclaimer of the risk involved would have been presented to everyone here.

  “Have we been able to gather up all of the hard drives, and files that need to come with us?” the commander inquires.

  Debbie raises her hand. “We’ve gathered most everything we can. There are a few drives and files that are still on the fifth floor that have not been recovered.”

  Commander Reynolds looks to Jacobson.

  The radio crackles. “The far stairwell is no good! I repeat, the far stairwell has been compromised with infected!” A panicked voice shouts from the speaker. It’s strained and filled with what sounds like yowls from the chasers.

  The commander removes it from his hip and brings it up to his mouth.

  “Say again, Private?”

  “Secure that damn door!” the private yells.

  “I’m trying, but I can’t get the damn thing to latch!” another voice growls.

  “Private, what’s-”

  Gunfire erupts from the speaker of the radio, followed by screams of panic. The combined yowls of the chasers loom in the air. The soldiers continue to fire. They’re screaming out to anyone that will listen, but it’s difficult to make out.

  The line goes dead. White noise filters out from the radio. A look of shock and doubt floods the commander’s face.

  A faint yowl taints the air and causes everyone to gasp with fright. Every head in the crowd twists down the hallway in the direction of the ominous sound. My heart skips a beat; my body flinches and muscles tighten as the noise repeats once more.

  It’s coming from down the hall to our right where the soldiers encountered more chasers. Mumbles of panic and whimpers of the end meld with the sound of the dead.

  We’re out of time. The chasers are here. We have to move now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Oh Christ! They’re heading this way!” a voice, from the cluster of people screams out loud.

  What few weapons we have are brought to bear. The Carbines slip free from our bodies, and we shoulder them. Multiple beams, from the lights mounted under the barrels, train in the direction of the chasers.

  “What do we do?” a strained voice cries out.

  “Everybody, fall back to the other stairwell!” Commander Reynolds orders. He removes the pistol from its holster. His stance is rigid with both hands tightly wrapped around the grip. “It’s the only other way that we can get to the upper floors. Now move!”

  “What if more of those things are behind the door?” another panicked voice calls out.

  “Then we’ll deal with it, but we have to move!” the commander hisses.

  I look to Cindy who’s breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide with fright, lips trembling uncontrollably.

  “No matter what happens, you keep by my side. Am I understood?” I say.

  She whimpers. Tears stream down her face as she nods.

  Duke barks and growls. He places himself between us and the chasers who are rushing this way. I can’t spot them within the thick blackness that paints the corridor. Their yowls grow louder, more defined.

  The hospital staff and soldiers retreat. They make a mad dash for the stairwell to our left. Footsteps trample the linoleum floor. We sprint after them.

  “Duke. Come on, boy,” I yell out.

  He continues to bark and growl as he turns about and gallops after us. Commander Reynolds and Lieutenant Jacobson bring up the rear.

  “How are we looking, Private?” the commander shouts.

  The soldier approaches the stairwell entrance. He presses the side of his head against the surface, and listens.

  “I think we’re clear. I’m not detecting any movement.” He steps back and opens the door with his Carbine trained at the entrance. He moves inside and vanishes from our sight. One by one, everyone funnels into the stairwell. They push and shove, trying to make the person in front of them move faster.

  Multiple shrills call out from the stairwell we’re running into. Gunfire erupts, followed by screams of terror.

  “Private, talk to me!” Commander Reynolds yells.

  We approach the entrance with weapons trained at the landing. A handful of hospital staff and soldiers are huddled about on the stairs.

  Blood is smeared over the floor, and trails off to the left. I step to the right and find a mound of bodies slumped over onto each other. It’s hard to make out who it is, but it appears they got attacked by the dead.

  Cassie moves in front of me and heads in first. She steps over the pool of blood and moves to the right. She reaches out her hand and motions for Cindy to come to her.

  “Come on, sweetie,” she beseeches as calmly as she can.

  Cindy latches to my side like an abnormal growth. She shakes her head and refuses to budge.

  “Come on, Sis. We need to keep moving.” I pull her free of my body. She holds tight around my neck and doesn’t want to let go. Her arms cinch down further, her fingers laced together. I push against Cindy until she releases her hold. I force her over to Cassie. She screams and cries aloud as she scrambles around the blood.

  “Contact!” Jacobson yells out.

  I glance back over my shoulder, and find a mass of dark figures rushing our way. The light barely reaches their gaunt frames and rage-filled faces.

  I move inside with Lucas close behind. The crowd of people on the stairs has disappeared. Cassie latches her fingers over Cindy’s wrist and heads for the stairs. More yowls sound from below us. The landing we’re standing on subtly vibrates.

  Damn it.

  I peer over the railing and find chasers racing up the damaged staircase—a stampede of dead bodies that fight for position to be in front of the others.

  Screw this.

  I take aim with the Carbine and open fire. The recoil from the rifle punishes my shoulder. The end of the barrel breathes fire. I spray left to right, trying to take out the ones in the lead. Gouts of blood burst from the chasers’ bodies, spraying the others and the walls with their fluids.

  Lucas moves off to my right as Commander Reynolds rushes into the stairwell.

  He slaps my shoulder and pulls me back toward him. “Save it, son. We need to keep heading up!”

  My finger moves away from the trigger, and
I lower the rifle.

  Jacobson back peddles inside the stairwell with his Carbine still trained in the direction of the chasers surging down the hallway. The dead climb over the fallen bodies in their way. Jacobson reaches for the door and shifts his body out of the way, but stumbles over the leg of one of the dead nurses. He loses his balance and falls down flat on his back.

  A macabre corpse reaches out for him from the flight of stairs near us. I step over Jacobson, and slam the stock end of the Carbine into the side of the chaser’s head. It stumbles to the right and collides with the wall. I slam the rigid sole of my boot into its face, knocking it off balance. Its head snaps back, the deformed nose that is missing a chunk of flesh from the tip crunches upon impact.

  The reanimated corpse falls backward into the other chasers who are close behind, knocking them to the stairs. The infected flail on the ground, trying to get up and continue their pursuit as other chasers fight to get through. It buys us a bit of time.

  Lucas pulls Jacobson from the floor.

  “Move!” Jacobson shoves Lucas to the left just as the horde of undead arrive. He slams the door shut, but an arm slips through the narrow opening, keeping it from latching.

  “Go! I’ll hold them off!” Jacobson pushes with everything he has as another arm emerges through the tight space.

  “No! You’re coming with us!” I charge and slam the full brunt of my weight into the door.

  The chasers force the door open farther. More limbs of the creatures materialize from the darkness beyond. We’re losing ground.

  Lucas lines his Carbine up with the opening of the door and opens fires at the infected. The arms retreat back to the hallway as the door slams shut.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. The chasers pound and ram the obstacle in their way which makes the door swell with every headlong rush.

  “This isn’t going to hold them back!” Jacobson calls out. “Go! Get the hell out of here. I’ll buy you as much time as I can!”

  Lucas grabs my arm and yanks me from the door. “We have to move now, James.”

  More gunfire echoes throughout the hollow space above.

  Cindy.

  My head tilts back. More chasers make their way up the stairs to our right.

  Shit.

  Jacobson belches a determined roar. He growls and snarls as he bears down as hard as he can. He flips around and leans against the door. Facing us, he bends over and retrieves his Carbine from the landing.

  “Good luck, kid.”

  Jacobson shoulders the rifle and opens fire just as rapacious hands reach for his clothing. Brain matter explodes from the backs of the chasers’ heads in a mist that is narrowly caught by the flashlight’s beam. Their bodies crumple to the landing.

  Lucas retreats up the stairs with me in tow. Our feet punish each step. I offer one last look down the stairs, and find the door pushing open farther.

  Chasers squeeze through the gap and attack Jacobson as we make the bend. The hammering of his Carbine subsides. The insatiable yowls of the dead are all that remain.

  A yell of pain and agony reaches out from the blackness behind us. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I cringe. The sound quickly fades away, consumed by the chaser’s ravenous delights.

  The door to the fifth floor is wide open. Lucas trains his Carbine at the opening and slows his pace. The light washes over the door, revealing multiple bloody hand prints that swipe across the surface from left to right.

  “Cindy!” I whisper softly.

  “They probably kept moving up the floors. She’s fine, James,” Lucas assures.

  More blood is slathered across the landing. Two bodies of the infected soldiers who were trapped on the fifth floor, lay on top of a soldier who is prone on his back. His eyes are wide, filled with terror. Blood coats his face. A single hole is visible in the middle of his skull.

  Lucas nudges the bodies, checking for any signs of life. They remain motionless.

  Heavy footsteps pound each step behind us. The dead are moving up the stairs.

  Lucas cranes his neck, and scans over the hallway. Two more soldiers lay face first in a pool of their own blood.

  Lucas steps over the dispatched bodies and continues up the next flight of stairs. I stay close to his six and forge ahead.

  “How far do you think they went up?” The muscles in my legs burn. Every step I make feels as though they are being probed with a hot poker that sends a searing pain coursing throughout my body.

  “I don’t know, but we’ll keep heading up until we find them.”

  “James!” A voice calls out from the blackness above.

  I stop, and lean to the left. I look up through the narrow opening between the flights of stairs, and find Cassie waving her hands down at us.

  “Is Cindy with you?” I call out. “Is she ok?”

  “She’s fine. Just move your butts and get up here!”

  I glance down and shine the light toward the lower levels. The chasers funnel up the stairs, unwilling to give up their pursuit. They’re a flight below us and closing in fast.

  We run hard, trying to put as much distance between us and the dead as possible. Floor after floor, we clear without a moment’s rest. My lungs plead for a reprieve which I cannot extend. They ignite with an intense stinging pain, almost as if they are being doused with a vat of acid.

  I pick up the faint sound of Duke barking, which increases with every step we make. Lights up ahead illuminate our way. I have no clue what floor we’re on. They all look the same at this point.

  Commander Reynolds comes into view on the landing before us. His pistol is trained in our direction. His light washes over our worn and sweaty faces.

  Cassie is off to his left with Duke by her side. She motions with her hand for us to move faster. As if I’m not already going as fast as I can.

  Duke lowers his ears and greets us with a single bark.

  Commander Reynolds steps to the right, clearing a path for us to dash right past him. Duke groans in excitement. His body shakes, and his rear end shimmies from side to side with joy.

  Cassie hugs Lucas, then moves over to me. “I’m glad the two of you are ok.”

  “Where’s Lieutenant Jacobson?” Commander Reynolds inquires. “He was right behind me.”

  Lucas cuts his gaze over to me. “He... he didn’t make it.”

  Commander Reynolds grumbles, muttering something that I can’t make out. His lips purse and his brow furrows.

  The caterwauls of the chasers echo up the stairwell. The commander’s hands reposition over the grip of the pistol as we make for the open door. He back peddles toward us. The gleam from his light brings to life the gaunt, bloody faces of the dead racing up the stairs. He grabs the handle of the stairwell door, and slams it shut just as the chasers hit the landing.

  For now, we are safe. How long that will last is yet to be seen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Trapped like rats, we’re at the end of our maze. There is no place else to go. Nowhere for us to flee from the clamoring of the undead horde. If they somehow find a way in, we will die.

  The thought tries to tear into my soul like a savage beast, hell bent on feasting upon my fear—a smorgasbord of delectable suffering. I battle it’s will, trying to remain optimistic that the military will arrive before the chasers bust down the door.

  A lull of silence fills the void among what few survivors are left. We sit in the hallway, scattered about within the bleakness of the night. Our final resting place before we’re consumed, or worse yet, turned.

  All of the soldiers have died. The commander is the only one who hasn’t fallen. I don’t spot Nurse Debbie. I fear that she is one of the bodies I spotted in the stairwell. Ms. Jones and Doctor Harper have made it, along with two other nurses who sit huddled together. Our numbers are few now. Weapons to defend ourselves, even less.

  The chasers have blocked our path to the landing pad that is a floor above us. They rotting corpses have filled the stairwell.
We’re so close, yet so far away at this point.

  Commander Reynolds left to sweep the floor for any infected. He hasn’t returned, which has caused most of us to worry. Lucas volunteered to help, but was asked to stay and help look after everyone. I’m glad he didn’t go.

  Cindy is by my side, resting on the tile floor. Duke is down by my feet. His head rests on the fronts of his paws as his ears twitch from the groans of the chasers that seep in through the wafer thin slits around the entrance to the stairwell.

  Sitting here, I can’t help but think of Jacobson, and how surreal his departing was. Flashbacks of Mack play out in front of me like a vivid replay within the darkness. What happened to the lieutenant is almost the exact same scenario as when Mack died.

  He was faced with a similar predicament—a horde of chasers fighting to get inside that auto parts store. Mack held them at bay for as long as he could, offering us a chance to survive. He never made it back to us. The guilt of Cassie’s loss still weighs heavy on me. I’ll never forget his sacrifice and bravery. Despite how I felt about Jacobson, he gave his life so that we could live. I’ll be forever grateful for that.

  “How long have we been sitting here?” Cassie asks. “It feels like it’s been forever.” Her body is slumped over on the floor. The Carbine lays across her legs that are stretched out before her. Her fingers tightly grip the barrel and the stock as she watches the stairwell door with great intent.

  “At least an hour. Probably more,” Lucas answers.

  I glance to his injured arm. He doesn’t seem to be favoring it as much as he did.

  “How’s the arm feeling?”

  He tilts his head to the left and peers down. “Still hurts, but I’m managing.”

  Cindy groans in discomfort, shifting her weight from side to side. “Are we going to die, James? I don’t want to die.” Her words are brushed with defeat, her tone lifeless and without a hint of hope for me to draw off of.