Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  My hand sifts through his matted fur as I rub his side. He groans, and shifts his weight. He’s alive! He wags his bushy tail and lifts his head up from the floor.

  I collapse on top of him, and wrap my arms around his body. I squeeze him tight as he tries to lick my face. “I’m so sorry, boy. This is all my fault.”

  The wooden planks creak behind me—a subtle sound that chills my blood. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Whatever’s there has me dead to rights.

  I turn around to engage whoever is flanking me, but something blunt smashes into the back of my skull. I’m thrown forward, and hit the jamb with my forehead. The flashlight pops free of my hand as I crumble to the floor. I roll to my back while cradling my head. Through blurry vision, I squint at the dark figure towering over me.

  He shines the light on his face, and gives me a wink and a smirk before I blackout for good.

  A brief recap of the events that have transpired since the virus had been released upon the world plays through my head on a loop. From the day Dad, Duke, and me went hunting to when I discovered Mom was infected and I had to put her at ease. It ends with us on the chopper, and the terrified look Cindy had as we plummeted toward the earth. She reaches out for me, begging that we survive what is about to happen. Everything goes dark, and it replays again from the beginning.

  Something blunt slaps my face, and rips me from the tormenting dreams I’m caught in. The skin stings and my jaw aches from the blow.

  “Hey there. Time to wake up, sunshine.” The voice sounds jovial, almost as if he’s pleased with himself. “Come on, now. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bacy.”

  If I didn’t have a headache before, I do now. My head rests on the floor, the hard-wooden planks digging into my arm. It takes me a moment to realize what has happened and where I was last. That piece of crap wacked me with something that knocked me out, and now, I’m at his mercy.

  I try to move my arms, but the rough rope around them refuses to budge. In a fit of panic, I tug harder. The rope bites deeper into my wrists.

  My captor’s tepid breath blasts me in the face as he snickers. He grabs me by my shoulders and yanks me off the unforgiving floor. I slam against the wall with a dense thud. Pain lances up through my neck to the base of my skull.

  “Hey! Leave the kid alone!” Bill barks in protest.

  My eyes crack open just as the man stands up and turns away from me. He struts across the floor toward Bill who is strung up by his wrists from the ceiling. The rope is pulled taut with the tips of his boots searching for the ground.

  The lantern’s flame dances against the wall. It illuminates the drab loft we’re in. Through blurred vision, I spot two other guys flanking the man who knocked me out, and Bill hanging by his wrists from the rafters, but I don’t see Duke.

  The space is sparse of any furnishings. Just piles of sheetrock and clumps of the ceiling litter the floor.

  I blink a few times, trying to erase the dizziness that plagues my mind. The back of my head hurts. My hair is matted together with something that is now stiff. Is that blood?

  Duke barks, then growls. I glance about the open space, and find him chained by the neck next to a beam. He’s up on all fours, pacing back and forth. He turns and races toward the man who attacked us in the hall as he walks by him. The chain snaps taut and keeps him from going any farther.

  The man points to one of his cohorts, then to Duke. “Keep an eye on that dog, will ya? You know how vicious animals can get when they’re wounded or frightened.”

  The portly man nods and leaves Bill’s side. He waddles toward Duke and trains his rifle at his head. His sausage size fingers wrap around the stock as he snorts and clears his throat.

  “Get that gun away from my dog, now!” I snap at the unscrupulous, fat thug.

  He shoulders the rifle and bears down on Duke. Duke snarls and lowers his ears. He presents his fangs and crouches low to the ground as he sets his gaze on the armed man.

  Bill looks to me through his one good eye that isn’t black and blue or puffy. Blood trickles down the sides of his lip and races from his flared nostrils. His breathing is labored as he grimaces in pain.

  “I see you haven’t risen above hurting kids, Shane. Not sure if that makes you a piece of trash or a piece of crap,” Bill remarks. “Guess it doesn’t matter much since they both mean the same. To me, you’re nothing more than a dead man walking.”

  You’d think Bill’s harsh, but true, statement would pull a violent or aggressive response from the piece of crap that stands before him. A show of dominance that would make one cringe from the mere sight. Instead, the man chuckles as if it were a joke.

  “Same old William. Mr. holier-than-thou himself. So, is this the role you’re playing? The vengeful, jaded loaner who is out to right the wrongs of the world? If it is, then that is the biggest joke of all.”

  Bill watches Shane with contempt as he strolls around Bill. The gunman next to Bill keeps his sidearm trained at Bill’s head.

  “Better to be that than running with you clowns any longer. At least now, I’m no longer part of the problem. If you haven’t noticed, things aren’t getting any better out there. Especially now that the chasers have become smarter and can adapt. Your plans for trying to seize control of any territory and causing the government problems is pointless now. Like I told Ranger, you may as well help out, and be part of the solution instead of making things worse. The dead are taking care of that.”

  Shane bobs his head as he chews on Bill’s searing response. He stops on a dime and punches him hard in the kidneys. Bill grunts and winces. His body sways from side to side as the tips of his boots scrape along the wooden planks.

  Duke barks and growls, baring his fangs at the obese man.

  Shane steps away from Bill and points at Duke. “I’m telling you right now, Bobby, if that dog gets lose and bites me, your fat ass is going to be on the chopping block.”

  Bobby shoots him a worried stare that shows his words aren’t full of hot air. He gulps, then turns his attention back to Duke. “Shut the hell up before I make you, you dumb animal.”

  Bill spits a wad of blood to the floor that splatters over the planks near Shane. “You haven’t changed any. You still hit like a little bitch. Guess it’s fitting, considering you’re Ranger’s bitch and all.”

  Shane looks to Bobby, who’s face floods with shock. He glances over to the other gunmen who licks his lips and shoves the barrel of his canon against Bill’s temple.

  “Let me do him now, Shane,” the scrawny man pleads. “Shut this traitor up once and for all.” His fingers re-position over the grip as he waits for the go ahead.

  “Not yet, Mark. Just hold on,” Shane snaps. “I want that traitor to suffer first. A bullet to the skull would be too good for him.”

  He turns toward me, then points at Bill. “Has he been like this with you, kid?”

  I shrug. “From my experience, most people now are dicks. Bill hasn’t been too bad, though. I guess it’s just a matter of what you’re willing to stand. Like you, for instance. I don’t know you, or your two lackies, but what I’ve gathered so far is that you three are a bunch of dick bags. I wouldn’t lose any sleep if a pack of chasers came in here right now and tore through you. I’d call that justice.”

  Shane looks to Bill whose face is bloody, and his right eye appears to be swollen. “I see you’ve found someone who’s as big of a pain in the ass as you. He’s about as mouthy as that chick we nabbed from the military chopper.”

  He has to be referring to Cassie. She’s a whole other level of angry when she gets pissed off.

  Shane squares off with Bill and lays into him. A right cross to the jaw, followed up with two lower body shots that rip the air clean from his lungs.

  Bill’s body sways to and fro as he coughs and whines from the punishing blows.

  “Hot damn, William. You can still take a beating like a champ, brother.” Shane cradles his hand, then shakes it as if the beating punished him instead.
He turns toward me as Bill hangs limply by his wrists. Shane’s knuckles are fresh with Bill’s blood. Shane digs his other hand into the back pocket of his jeans and grabs a black bandana.

  “Mark, take William into the other room while I speak with our young friend. Tune him up some more. I’ll come in shortly to finish him off, but not before we have some final words.”

  “Sure thing, boss man.” Mark holsters his sidearm and walks past Bill. He heads for a post that has the end of the rope tied off to it. He fiddles with the knot and loosens it up. The rope unwinds, and drops Bill’s battered body hard to the floor. He hits with a thump and doesn’t move a muscle.

  Shane nods at Bill. “To be honest, kid, you’re better off without him. He’d have gotten you killed sooner than later. Hell, it may be sooner than you think.”

  Mark shoves his boot into Bill’s back. He doesn’t flinch. “Come on, get up, now, and move!”

  Bill remains motionless on the floor. Mark probes his body once more with his boot, but gets no reaction.

  Shane sighs, then rolls his eyes in frustration. “Why don’t you pick him up and drag him to the other room, then?”

  Mark looks at Bill, then back up to Shane as if the request is some sort of joke. He doesn’t say as much, but the unsure look on his face more than conveys that message.

  Shane whistles at Bobby, then nods over at Mark. “Give him a hand, will ya? The pooch will be fine for a few.”

  Bobby lowers his rifle and slings the black strap over his thick arms. He waddles over to Mark who’s hunched over Bill. His meager arms try to lift Bill’s bulk free of the floor, but Bill doesn’t budge. He grunts and strains, but fails to move him.

  Both men tag team Bill, and drag him by the shoulders through an open door on the far side of the room. They vanish into the darkness and slam the door behind them, leaving just Shane, me, and Duke in the main room.

  He shakes his head, then rubs his palm up and down his face as if he’s annoyed. The three of them remind me of Frank and his clan of rejects who we faced off with back in Oregon.

  The faint glow of light radiates out from under the door and around the jamb. I wonder what they plan to do to Bill in there.

  “I tell you what, finding good men who are worth their salt in this day and age can be hard. At the end of the day, guess one must work with what they’ve got,” Shane rattles off.

  I glare at him. “You know, I came across a group back in Oregon that you three remind me off.”

  “Is that so?” Shane retorts.

  “Yeah. Some militant, backwoods group who were trying to hit military depots and such. Their leader, Frank, threatened to kill us if the army guy we were with at the time didn’t give him what he wanted. They wouldn’t be affiliated with your little band of rejects, would they?”

  Shane snickers, then steps away. He retrieves a rickety-wooden chair to my left. I look to Duke who remains on all fours with his fiery gaze locked on Shane.

  I move my arms back and forth, trying to free my wrists from the rope that binds them in place. The coarse material bites deeper into my skin. It stings, but I persist.

  The chair plops down right in front of me as Shane straddles the seat. I flinch and scooch back like a worm. His arms rest on the back as he stares down at me.

  “They were a branch of Hive. They went dark some months back. Haven’t heard from them since. What, did you and your mutt over there kill them or something?” Shane smirks.

  He must find it amusing. I don’t.

  “No. The chasers did. Tore through the lot of them like they were nothing. Served them right since they killed my best friend. I have to say, watching that Chaser bite into Frank was gratifying. One less evil in the world, if you ask me.”

  Shane nods, then rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “To be honest, James, and I hate to say this, but the outlook for your friends could be a bit dicey. Much like Frank and his crews’ fate, their future is unknown at this point. To be honest, I’m a bit surprised to see that you’re still alive. We figured the chasers would have finished you off. Survival rates around here are pretty low, so color me impressed.”

  A thud resonates from the room where Bill was taken. I cut my eyes over to the room, wondering what they’re doing to him.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much more about William. He’s going to be getting what is owed to him soon. Believe me, it will be well deserved. Besides, you have your own set of problems to contend with.”

  I set my sights back to Shane, who has his smug expression plastered on his face. It’s one that I have seen many times when the bad guys think they have the upper hand against me. Funny enough, I’m still alive, and the rest of them are dead.

  With a tug and the subtle shift of my arms, my wrists become less bound by the dense rope. In the end, persistence pays off.

  “Why did you take my family from that chopper anyway?” I probe. “Not sure what use they’d be to you. I doubt the government is concerned with the demands of a bunch of nobodies with hostages. They have bigger problems at the moment than that—you know, with the dead out there killing and turning everyone.”

  “Everyone has a purpose in this world, James. Even that bratty sister of yours and that loud mouth chick who is with her. As far as the old guy you were with, Lucas I think it was, well, he didn’t want to listen and decided to play Mr. Hero. He almost got away with the girls, but a bullet to the stomach shut that plan down fast. I imagine he’s either a chaser by now or a pile of tattered, bloody rags.”

  My nostrils flair and my lips purse. His words are like a dagger that burrows into my side. Every word he speaks sends the dull blade further in. I’m going to enjoy making him pay for that.

  “So, what’s the grand plan here? What are you after? Money? Weapons?”

  “The grand plan?” Shane parrots. “The answer may surprise you.”

  I chuckle. “Try me. I doubt it will.”

  “Simply put, we want out of here.”

  I give Shane a baffled stare. “Out of here? As in, out of the city?”

  He tilts his head. “The city. The country. Any place that isn’t infested with those things. The government, more so the military, are the only ones who can make that happen.”

  “Not what I was expecting,” I respond. “I figured it would be a bit more ambitious than that considering Frank wanted to attack military outposts. At least, that’s what I gathered from what he said.”

  Shane glances down to the watch on his wrist.

  “Late for an appointment?” I inquire.

  He looks to me, then Duke. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Which means our little banter session has come to an end.” Shane slaps his hands on top of the chair, then stands up. He scoots it out of the way and towers over me.

  I gulp, but maintain my composure as best I can. “Like I said earlier, the government isn’t going to give two craps about what you want. They’re not going to take you anywhere except maybe a six-foot grave if you’re lucky.

  That same smirk slithers across his self-satisfied face. Shane feels pretty confident in their plan. I wonder what he knows that I don’t.

  Shane steps closer to me and stoops down. He grabs a handful of my jacket and rips me off the floor. I sit flat on my ass to where we are eye level. Duke growls and inches toward us, but the chain pulls tight.

  “Oh, the military will listen to what we want since we have something they need.”

  I probe for an answer. The big reveal. It has to be Commander Reynolds, no, wait, Cindy. That’s the only logical choice that springs to mind. But if he doesn’t know about my sister, I’m not about to tell him.

  “I doubt the commander will be that big of a bargaining chip with the military. After all, they don’t negotiate with terrorists,” I say while my arms continue to move back and forth.

  Shane looks me dead in my eyes. “I’m not referring to just the commander, but your immune sister as well.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The mere mention
of my little sister as a means to an end boils my blood. The only saving grace is they won’t kill her, seeing as they need her, for now.

  Shane slaps my leg, then stands back up. “You should be relieved, James. She has a purpose to serve, and won’t die, just as long as we get what we want. The military refuses, and well, she loses her value.”

  The noise from the other room grows louder. Voices become angered and shouting ensues. Shane stares at the door. I jerk my hands in opposite directions behind my back, and get them free of the rope.

  “Hey! What the hell is going on in there?” Shane barks. “Can you two idiots not handle a busted up has been? Christ, it’s not that hard.” Shane reaches behind his back and retrieves a large pistol from his waistband. He cycles a round, then rubs his hand over his face.

  Multiple gunshots pop off, one right after the other. Two dense thuds hit the floor. Shane’s amiable demeanor evaporates in a blink as confusion fills his face. He turns on his heels and stares at the door. He’s no longer concerned with me.

  Shane heads for the other room. He walks with a cautious step as he trains the pistol at the door. “Fellas. Everything all right in there?”

  Here’s my chance to make my move. It’s now or never.

  I sit up from the floor. My eyes stay glued to Shane and every subtle twitch he makes. This needs to happen fast. Once I commit, there is no going back.

  I grab the flimsy chair, and charge Shane. It isn’t heavy, but weighs enough to at least disorient him. The floor gives me away as the rapping of my boots over the planks makes Shane look over his shoulder. It’s too late, though. He’s already in my crosshairs.

  A look of utter shock floods Shane’s face. His eyes go wide and he mouths some unsavory words. He pivots on his heels to try and defend himself. I swing the chair with all of my might as he takes a step back. The legs smash his shoulder, and catch the side of his face. Wood splinters and a squelch of pain, that quickly turns to a hoarse growl, escapes his lips.

  The pistol in his hand pops off a round, and strikes the floor by my feet. He stumbles about with unsure footing and reels from the blow. I keep attacking with the chair. More wood snaps and breaks. Shane reaches for the chair, trying to fend me off as best he can. He loses his grip on the pistol. It bounces off the floor away from him.