Dead State Box Set [0-5]

by Shupert, Derek

  “Damn thing needs new batteries. Not sure how long it’s going to last.”

  I pat down the pockets of my coat for mine. They’re empty. It could be stuffed in the pack, but there’s no time to look.

  Bill stops at the entrance and listens. I stand off to the side, just behind the rickety door.

  “Do you think that was Shane?” I ask.

  Bill shrugs. “Maybe. Didn’t sound like the chasers. Either way, it’s not good. I was hoping we could slip out of here to the street, sight unseen. Guess all of the ruckus we caused drew the chasers in.”

  I imagine Shane has met a more than nasty demise; nothing but karma being dealt to a bad person who deserved a violent end.

  I don’t probe for a plan or any words of wisdom. It’s pretty straightforward. Get to the street as fast as possible without dying. Then again, that’s always the goal.

  There is one question that springs to mind. Kind of a biggy. “You do know where Fifth Street is, right?”

  More shrills and yowls echo through the corridor. Bill mashes a portion of his palm against the light, snuffing it out. “More or less. If we can’t locate it, we can use the alarm on the key fob as a last-ditch effort to find it.”

  I’m hoping it won’t come to that.

  Bill steps out into the hall with part of his body still inside the loft. I push out from behind the door, and push it back against the wall. The hinges squeak which causes me to cringe and stop.

  Duke stays planted near the wall. I can only make out a vague outline of his body. His panting lets me know where he is.

  Bill sweeps the hall with the light from side to side before covering it back up. “Clear that way. I don’t see any chasers or Shane’s body for that matter.”

  He pivots on his heels and shines the light down the other end of the hallway. I crane my neck, and peer out through the door in the same direction.

  The light washes over a blob of pale, shirtless infected who are skulking down the hallway. There is no mindless wandering, but more of a low, crouched posture as if they’re lying in wait. For us.

  Bill pulls the trigger and sweeps the hall. His canon barks, and fire spits from the end of the muzzle. The chasers’ yowls are hard to hear over the report of the pistol.

  Duke and I funnel out of the loft and behind Bill as he lays down cover fire. It’s dim, but light enough for us to make out the shadowy bodies of the infected.

  Bill moves from target to target, taking out most of the infected with headshots.

  The chasers’ heads snap back in a blink as each round rips through their skulls. Bodies crumble to the floor in heaps of decayed flesh and tattered rags. Others are hammered in the chest or go wide, which draws a hoarse growl from Bill.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  The floor behind us creaks, signaling a warning that something is approaching. I turn about face, but can’t see what’s coming.

  “I think we have more inbound from this way as well,” I caution.

  Bill’s sidearm clicks empty as he bumps into me. We back away in the direction of the noise looming from down the hall and head into another unseen nightmare. What infected remain mobile growl and grunt as they advance on us.

  “Here. Take the flashlight.” Bill shoves the Maglite into my hand and ejects the spent magazine.

  I train the beam and Glock at the wall of murk before me. The light pierces the endless void and reveals not one, but a handful of chasers advancing up the hallway. “We’ve got more infected this way!”

  Duke barks at the creatures as they rush at us in a dead sprint. The floor trembles beneath my feet. The clamoring from the chasers’ open mouths sends a wave of fright down my spine.

  Bill continues to push against me as we’re sandwiched between the infected.

  I hold tough, and swallow the lump of fear in my throat. I pick my targets at random and open fire. Each shot hammers in my ears, but I don’t stop pulling the trigger. A few headshots are made, but most strike the chasers in the upper torso or miss them all together.

  “We need to find another way out of here, or we aren’t leaving this place at all!” I advise.

  The yowls from the infected bombard us from every angle. It’s hard to think straight or devise a plan of action with all of the commotion that we’re drowning in.

  “Your guess is as good as mine!” Bill yells.

  The few infected I manage to take down doesn’t stop the rest of the dead from charging us. There’s an opening within the hallway to our right. I train the Maglite away from the chasers and discover another hallway.

  “Come on! I think I found a way out of here!”

  Bill turns around as we veer to the side of the passageway. I fire while on the run, which is futile at best. Each shot goes wide and doesn’t aid us in the least. I’m wasting precious ammo at this point.

  In a full out sprint, we skirt the corner of the wall without checking for any threats. The dark hallway appears to be clear.

  The chasers collide behind us, and merge into one large horde. A solid wall of chattering teeth and outstretched arms reach for us.

  The gear on our backs bounces up and down with every step we make. The contents inside rattle about and shift as we maintain our hastened pace.

  So far, it’s clear up ahead. No infected are seen. They seem to be trailing us, which is good.

  Duke pulls ahead as we near another junction. The hallway to our right is blocked. A portion of the ceiling has caved in, leaving only one way for us to go.

  Macabre arms push through the rubble where the ceiling collapsed as rapacious fingers bat the air. I fight the urge to peer back at the horde of flesh-eating horrors bearing down on us. It feels like they’re only a few paces behind us, and that we’re not going to make it out alive.

  Like a race car driver, Duke hugs the corner and goes wide. Bill and I follow his path, trying to keep pace with his gallop. We brush along the deteriorating surface of the wall, kicking up debris. Tiny particles cling to my face, and filter in through my nose. I cough and hack, trying to rid my system of the debris.

  The chasers slam into the wall at full speed, cratering in the rotting surface. It slows them down some, but not enough to make much of a difference.

  The floor up ahead is missing—a blackhole that descends down to the lower levels. I scan over the walls in search of another way for us to go, but find no alternative route.

  “What are we going to do?” I pose.

  Bill maintains his heading right for the hole in the floor. “Jump!” he answers.

  “We’re going to do what?” I guffaw.

  “Just keep running, and jump when you hit the edge.”

  Duke veers toward the wall and skirts along the rail-thin piece of flooring, then hops to the other side. Bill pulls ahead of me by a scant inch. We jump at the same time, launching into the air as the chasers close the gap. I stay focused on the other side of the floor.

  The pit is cleared by a good foot or so as we hit with a dense thud. My legs give out, and I tumble to the floor. Bill grabs a handful of my coat and yanks me off the ground without pause. He pulls me along as we scurry away from the chasers.

  The first line of infected pay no mind to the black abyss before them and fall into the hole in the floor. Two vanish to the lower levels which offers a bit of hope that the rest will follow.

  Great.

  Hard and fast, our feet punish the wooden planks. I have no clue if we’re heading in the right direction or just rushing into a dead end.

  The Maglite dims, then flickers. I pound the steel casing against my palm until the light grows brighter. I spot a banister to our right that runs alongside the edge of the hallway. There doesn’t appear to be any chasers in the direction we’re heading.

  We skirt the railing, and fly down the stairs in a mad dash. A festering, stabbing sensation burrows into my side. When we hit the landing, I collapse against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

  Bill pants and breathes heavily. He wi
nces and squints his eyes, but he keeps moving just the same. “Come on, James. We can’t stop now.” He peels me off the wall and drags me down the next flight as the infected trample the stairs above us.

  I shine the light over the railing, and find that we’re not more than two floors away from what looks to be the lobby. I spy no movement from any infected, or henchmen for that matter, which offers a bit of relief.

  We clear another flight, and trample down the last set of stairs. The growling and angered yowls of the chasers keep me going at a good clip, whether I want to or not.

  The infected slam into the walls on the landing above. I flinch and lose my footing. I. Something dense hits me from behind and sends me tumbling down the remainder of the steps. I can hear the chaser’s teeth chattering as it tries to bite me, but can’t find the mark.

  “James!” Bill calls out.

  Each rigid step punishes my body. I’m helpless to stop my descent. The infected snarls in my ears and keeps a tight grip on my shoulders. The world spins, and I’m lost as to where we are. The Maglite pops free of my hand and clatters down the rest of the stairs.

  Entangled with the infected, I hit the ground floor. The chaser’s boney frame cushions my landing. It doesn’t lose its grip from around me as we tumble across the floor.

  Bill’s gun barks a sharp report, one right after the other with no pause in between. I can’t see where he is, but the brief flashes of white fire spewing from the barrel of his gun lets me know he’s close at hand.

  My head is spinning. I fight to get my feet under me, but the persistent chaser is now on top of me.

  Greedy hands grab at my coat, and keep me from scooting away. I kick my legs and lift my hips, trying to rid myself of the vile creature clawing at me. The chaser falls to the side, offering me a chance to get away. It reaches for my foot. The heel of my boot connects with the infected’s face.

  I’m still holding onto the Glock with a tight grip as I slide along the dust-covered planks of wood. I take aim at the chaser.

  The Maglite’s gleam shines from behind me, and casts the creature’s gaunt shadow along the wall. I lay eyes on Bill firing at the other infected barreling down the steps. Scores of dead topple down the stairs to the landing of the ground floor.

  The chaser shakes off the blow and crawls after me. Duke latches onto the fiend’s ankle and jerks his head from side to side.

  I line my shot up as best I can and pull the trigger. A single round strikes the chaser in the middle of the head. It collapses to the floor with a hand latched onto the front part of my boot.

  Bill’s sidearm clicks empty. He scoots back to me and reaches down. “Come on!”

  A chaser tramples the dead infected and rushes at Bill. I unload on the incoming threat. Two in the chest and one that goes wide. The bullet grazes the chaser’s face, removing a portion of the creature’s cheek. It stumbles to the ground and skids across the floor.

  “Duke, come on!”

  He drops the chaser’s leg, that was attacking me, and races to my side.

  Bill retrieves the flashlight from the floor as the dead wallow about. “Here! I think I found us a way out!”

  I take out two more chasers at the knees. They fall and crawl along the floor.

  It takes me a moment to realize that we’re in the lobby of the building we chased Shane into. I lose sight of Bill and Duke, then spot them running for the long stretch of hallway that we originally came in through.

  I turn around and race after them, leaving the infected in my wake.

  Ouch!

  My ankle hurts which causes me to run with a slight limp. Must have twisted it or something when tumbling down the stairs. A nagging pain lances up my arm through my left elbow that throbs with every step. Christ. I’m a battered mess, but I’m still in this fight.

  We bolt down the familiar corridor to the exit of the building. The dead are still within earshot, but seem to be far behind us. Their yowls are faint, and I don’t register any footfalls trailing us.

  We emerge from the building, and step out into the gloom of the eerie night. I sweep the alley in both directions for any threats, infected or otherwise. Nothing but the ruined buildings and fluttering trash meets my gaze.

  Bill grabs the door, and slams it shut. The side of his body deflates against the surface, tired and spent. Each breath he takes is labored.

  We’ve escaped the cold, boney clutches of the reaper more times than I can remember. I feel as though I’m on borrowed time, and that soon, my luck is going to run out.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The will to live and protect the ones you love must trump the pain you feel, or those that matter most will perish.

  When the weight of the world is placed on your shoulders, and you feel like you can’t take another step, you dig deep, man up, and rise to the occasion.

  Standing in that dark alley, battling the pain probing each muscle strand in my body, I can hear Dad’s voice beckon me from the great beyond—a reassuring pep talk that I’ll make it through this horrid nightmare. After all, there’s still work that needs to be done. Cindy needs me, and I cannot, will not, let her down.

  “How far away are we from the Jeep?” I ask while doubled over.

  Bill turns to face me. He presses his back against the door. His mouth slags open, and he draws in as much air as he can. “A few blocks down the alleyway there. That is, if he was telling the truth.”

  Either way, we need to check it out. Trudging through this city on foot isn’t going to save Cindy and Cassie’s hides. I’m not going to let them die.

  Duke waits by my side on his hind legs. His tongue drapes out the side of his snout as he pants. I rub the top of his head as Bill pushes away from the building.

  A dense thud smashes the door from the other side and sends him spinning on his heels. He stumbles over to me and Duke as the hammering of fists and screams of rage filter through the seams around the door. That’s our cue to leave. Break time is over.

  We bolt down the alley as fast as possible, putting as much distance between us and the chasers as we can. Given their proclivity to problem solving now, they’ll get through that door sooner rather than later.

  I’m so tired of running. It’s such a chore and is worse when you’re hurt and tired. I push on, though, and keep my pace consistent with Duke and Bill.

  With the sun gone down, the air has grown crisp. The wind washes over my sweaty face and cools my body. That’s about the only saving grace I can think of. The infected are bad during the day, but at least you can see them coming.

  Bill moves ahead of me, and veers off to the left toward the building we’re running alongside. He slows from a sprint to a slight jog as we near the cross street. He toes the edge and peers out around the corner.

  I glance back the way we came in search of any chasers who may be hot on our trail. The alley is void of any infected. I can only hope that the door will hold them back for a bit longer.

  “Looks clear. Let’s move.” Bill waves us onward.

  We funnel out of the alleyway and across the street to the row of buildings. I pivot my head from side to side, searching for any chasers hiding within the bleakness of the silent, dark city.

  Nothing but large blobs of black objects that I can only assume are vehicles fill the street in either direction.

  Bill hits the sidewalk and slips behind a minivan. He presses his hand against the side of the large vehicle and winces.

  “Damn side is killing me,” he grumbles.

  Duke stands at attention while staring at the alleyway we just left. He’s focused on something. His ears twitch and hone in on whatever it is he picked up. A growl looms from this throat.

  The shrills from the chasers calls out from the passageway—a mixture of voices that fills the desolate night air.

  I grab Duke by the collar and pull. “Come on, boy.”

  His body is taut and attention focused on the alleyway. He growls in response to the ominous sound. I tug a bi
t harder, insisting that he obey.

  Duke breaks his rigid stance and follows by my side. I keep hold of his collar until I’m sure he’s not going to turn tail and run in the direction of the infected.

  Bill joins us, and we’re back on the move, sprinting at a good clip down the sidewalk. He points in the direction we’re heading.

  “At this next intersection, hook a right. Fifth street should be the next block over, I think,” Bill says.

  I focus on the street ahead of us and nothing else. The light in Bill’s hand is unsteady. It bounces every which as it plays over the trash-filled sidewalk. Loose newspapers and other debris carpet the concrete.

  A growl looms from the building we’re running past, followed by angry fists that hammer the tempered storefront window. Inside, two infected stand in the dark abyss with their faces smooshed against the glass.

  The intersection is nothing but a cluttered mess of cars–a parking lot of abandoned steel. I spy no ghastly gray bodies lurking within the maze of vehicles.

  We skirt the corner of the brick building and continue sprinting down the sidewalk alongside the outer edge of the structure. I think, for now, we have given the infected the slip.

  Bill trains the Maglite at the street sign ahead of us. The gleam washes over the green-tinted metal and illuminates the wording, Fifth St.

  We slow down as we hit the next intersection. Now that we’re here, I can’t remember where Shane said their Jeep was parked.

  Think, James, think.

  My brain is mush, and I’m struggling to recall where the damn vehicle is.

  “Do you remember where he said they left the Jeep?” I ask.

  Bill scans over the street, shinning the light over the vehicles that line the sidewalks. “He didn’t say. Just that it was on Fifth St.”

  Great. My knowledge of vehicle brands is sparse at best.

  A thought gels in my head. The keys Shane gave us had an alarm attached with it, I think. “The keys. Don’t they have a remote alarm, or whatever it’s called on them?”