In the Dead: Volume 1

by Jesse Petersen

The girl inside fell backward and then there was only silence in the room.

  It took a minute for Ashley and Meghan to get the barriers down off the door and get inside. Once they did, they both stopped and stared.

  The zombie daughter had torn the room apart in her lust to escape. The walls were battered and bloodied, the furniture overturned in mindless fury and worst, the corpse of the floor was missing all her fingers. She had worn them down to the knuckles over the weeks with her attempts to claw out of the room.

  “Look for the picture,” Ashley said as she stepped over the dead girl in the doorway. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  Meghan joined her sister and they cleared through the mess in the room. Behind what had once been an end table next to the bed, Meghan found what they were looking for. The family picture had been in a nice frame, but that got smashed pretty early on. She swept away the broken glass and then opened the back of the frame to retrieve the picture.

  “Our family,” she read on the back. “Alice, Chelsea (20), Polly (22) and Vern.”

  “Vern,” Ashley repeated as she sat down on the bed to look over Meghan’s shoulder at the picture when she turned it over. They were a nice family. Vern/Mac standing behind the girls next to his wife. They were smiling.

  Tears stung Meghan’s eyes at she stared at the happy faces, completely unaware of what was about to happen to them. In a way, they were her own family,. They represented everything she lost.

  But also everything she still had.

  “Let’s go,” she said as she got to her feet. “But we’re not going to tell Mac about this. We’re not going to tell him his daughters were trapped in the house for the last two months, okay?”

  Ashley pondered that, then nodded. “He doesn’t need to know.”

  #

  It was almost dark when they pulled the motorcycle back up to the fence around the old farmhouse. Meghan didn’t even have to push the green button before the gate opened to allow them in.

  She parked the motorcycle and smiled. Mac had already parked a reinforced SUV with a small trailer attached to the back next to the junk pile. For them, she assumed.

  He came down the hill from the house. “You find it?”

  Ashley pulled the picture from her backpack and held it out. He hesitated and he was blinking a lot. Meghan cleared her throat and looked away to let him have his tears in private.

  “How was the house?” he asked.

  The girls exchanged a quick glance and then Ashley shrugged. “Quiet.”

  He smiled and there was relief on his face. “Good. Good.”

  Finally, he took the picture, but he left it facing down in his hand. Meghan grabbed her sister’s arm. “Hey, do you mind if we freshen up a bit?”

  He nodded without looking at them. He was just reading the back of the picture. Meghan dragged Ashley into the house and they sat down at the kitchen counter to wait for him. After a few minutes, he came inside. The picture was folded in his front pocket and his eyes were clear.

  “Well, thank you. This means a lot to me.” He sat down across from them. “You saw the SUV?”

  Meghan nodded. “It’s for us?”

  “Yup. And I loaded up the trailer with a few necessities. Including your solar generator, Ms. Negotiator.”

  Ashley smiled.

  “Then we should head out tomorrow morning,” Meghan said.

  “You should come with us,” Ashley added as she looked across the counter at Mac.

  Meghan stared at her. They hadn’t discussed that.

  “Look, we’re not stupid,” Ashley continued. “I know we’re probably not going to find out parents.”

  Meghan flinched. That was another subject they hadn’t brought up. She’d thought she was protecting Ashley by not bringing up that touchy fact, but her sister was not stupid. Just fifteen.

  “And we could use a man like you,” Ashley said with a smile for Mac. “And I think you might need us, too.”

  “Leave here?” Mac repeated as he stared at the girls. “But this is my home.”

  Meghan reached across the table and touched his hand. “No. It’s not.”

  He thought about it for a long moment. “Well, I’d hate to see you girls get hurt all alone out there. And I am getting sick of having everybody stop by here demanding my services.”

  “So you’ll come?” Ashley asked.

  He opened his mouth and shut it again. “Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this but… yeah. It might be nice to see Colorado again. I’ll come with you.”

  Meghan grinned at her sister. “So do we still have to call you Mac?” she asked.

  He pulled the picture from his pocket and stared at it for a long moment.

  “Naw. I think you’d better just call me Vern.”

  Reality Bites

  “Network Z has seen advertising revenue fall by fifty percent in the last three months,” Frank Rose screamed in his usual red-faced, angry executive way. “Why?”

  Caroline fought the urge to sigh and once more motioned to the graph that explained exactly why.

  “Mr. Rose, as you can see, public interest in the zombie outbreak peaked right around the time the wall was built. But once they felt “safe” from the infected, their desire to watch a 24-hour news network dedicated to zombie news faded considerably. And since new television programming is being produced out of Indianapolis now and limited internet access is again available, they have other options for entertainment.”

  Rose squeezed his eyes shut. He was turning purple. Caroline would have been worried about him if she didn’t hate him so much. He was just… awful. The worst person she’d ever worked for. But with the movement of the Hollywood establishment (or what was left of it) to Indianapolis after the Outbreak, she didn’t have all that many choices.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck about what viewers want,” Rose barked. “I want my money. Fix it.”

  Caroline swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I was just about to get into that.”

  She glanced at her co-workers. All of them were pale, Annalise was crying (no help at all for their cause) and Roy had that expression on his face that said, “I’m going to throw you under the bus if I feel like this goes south.”

  So she was basically on her own.

  “Get to it faster.” Rose gripped his pen so hard that Caroline was surprised it didn’t explode all over the table and his starched white shirt.

  “Yes, sir. We have done a great deal of research and we think that the answer to this problem is original programming.”

  Rose opened his mouth with a big gasp of air, like he was going to start screaming, but then he hesitated. “Go on,” he said, his voice low for the first time since the meeting started.

  She smiled, but her armpits felt really sweaty.

  “When the original networks started to feel the pinch in advertising and budgetary concerns, they turned to reality television. Shows like Survivor and Amazing Race and others really saved their bacon until they could rebalance their scripted shows.”

  Rose rubbed his chin. “Yes. I was a junior executive at a big three at the time. You’re right about reality television.”

  “Good, I was sure you’d understand,” Caroline said with a sweet smile that made her sick. Brownoser. She was a total brownnoser. “What we propose is the same route. We continue our news coverage, of course, but we also start presenting a few reality shows which still fit with our overall theme of All Zombie, All the Time.”

  “Such as?”

  Before Caroline could answer, Roy was on his feet. “Well sir-”

  “Sit down Simmons,” Rose said with a wave of his fat hand. “Let Caroline finish.”

  Roy paled and then did as he’d been told. Caroline wanted to high five her boss, but she was pretty sure she’d be left hanging.

  “There are several B and C-list celebrities who made it to Indianapolis. Obviously some of them got picked up by networks to fill in spots or create shows that were vacated by dead stars, but
a few are still lower ranking. If they lost someone in the Outbreak, we could follow them around and tell their stories.”

  “Real Housewives of Z-County,” Rose said with a nod. “All right. What else?”

  “We have tons of existing footage from over the Wall and to be honest, sometimes zombies are funny. They stagger around, take ball shots, the usual infantile stuff that America loves.” She smiled. “We could do a Badlands Funniest Zombies-type show. Add funny sound effects and let the watcher have a chance to win some money or a trip.”

  “Good.” Rose wasn’t red anymore. “Anything else?”

  “Well, this last one is a little… out there,” Caroline said. Nervousness flooded her. If Rose hated it, she was probably out of job. It was that kind of out there.

  He arched a brow and leaned back in his chair.

  “So, I have it on good authority that the government has a few… prisoners who they might be willing to part with to help us start a reality show with humans battling zombies. They fight it out. If they get turned into zombies, great. They are become new grist for the wheel, so to speak. If they win… they get set free into the Badlands to survive on their own.”

  Both Rose’s eyebrows lifted now and he stared at her in silent shock for a few moments. Long enough that poor Roy couldn’t contain himself anymore.

  “I told her it wasn’t a great idea,” he burst out as he jumped to his feet. “But she doesn’t listen, sir.”

  Rose glared at him. “You’re an idiot, Simmons. I love it. It’s a great idea. And you’re fired.”

  Roy blinked. “F-fired.”

  “Yes. Get out.”

  Roy’s lip quivered as he gathered up some papers and made for the door.

  Once he was gone, Rose looked at Caroline again. “How long until you can spin this up?”

  “That’s the beauty of reality, sir,” she said with a smile. “We can be up and broadcasting any one of these shows within a week, maybe two for the battle show.”

  “Good.” Rose leaned back. “Then let’s do it.”

  #

  The fog in Chris’s brain blurred his vision as he opened his eyes. His ears were ringing. His mouth tasted like cotton balls dipped in three-day old cat litter. And when he lifted his head…

  “Ow,” he groaned and lowered it back to the cold concrete.

  It took a minute for that to sink in. Cold. Concrete.

  He opened his eyes and tried to force some focus. The room was bright, lit by what seemed like a hundred blazing lights. The floor was concrete as were the walls. He lifted his head up from the hard floor and saw that there were three other people, a woman, a teenaged boy and an older man lying in the room. All of them were in various stages of stirring and all of them were wearing bright orange jumpsuits.

  He looked down at himself. Jumpsuits just like his. He didn’t remember putting it on.

  He pushed to his knees. What was the last thing he did remember?

  “What is this place?” the woman asked as she grabbed for the wall closest to her and pulled herself up. “And why do I feel like I was on a bender last night?”

  Chris shook his head. “I don’t know. Hey, are you two all right?”

  The kid stared up at him sullenly. He was a bit pudgy and his jumpsuit strained against his belly as he got up. The older man staggered when he tried to stand and Chris moved to his side to give him a hand.

  “Thank you.” The old man stretched his back. “I’m Gus Hardwick.”

  “Chris Lloyd.”

  He glanced at the woman. “Kelsey Quick.”

  “The news reporter?” the teenager asked.

  She nodded and Chris looked closer. Yeah that was her all right. Just without her normal shellacking of make-up. She actually looked better in person.

  “What about you, young man?” Gus asked. “Who are you?”

  “Tyler.” The kid shrugged.

  “So what the hell are we all doing here?” Chris asked. “Anyone have a guess? Anyone remember what they were doing before they woke up here?”

  Tyler nodded. “I was on my computer.”

  “Doing what?” Kelsey asked.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Not looking at porn if that’s what you mean!”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t, but now it is.”

  “I was…” Tyler looked around and dropped his voice. “Hacking the governmental firewall.”

  “Whoa.” Chris whistled his approval. “Nice. I was developing some pictures.”

  “Of?” Kelsey pressed.

  “Of survivors on the other side of the wall.”

  “Funny.” Kelsey shrugged. “I was writing a story about the very same thing. Gus, can I assume you were involved in something similar?”

  He nodded. “I connect with some underground people via ham radio, yes.”

  “I guess that answers our question about why we’re here,” Chris muttered. “We’re all trying to break the barrier the government has put between the people and the truth of the Outbreak. But that doesn’t answer where we are.”

  High above them a crackling sound burst from the concrete walls, bouncing off and around them in an eerie echo.

  “What is that?” Gus asked.

  Tyler looked up. “Speakers. They’re attached up near the top of the… cell or whatever.”

  “Tonight on Zombie Wars:” came a game show host voice full of false excitement and perfect pronunciation “Four convicted criminals fight ravenous zombies for a chance at a new life outside the wall.”

  “What?” Kelsey screeched. “Convicted? I wasn’t convicted of anything! I’m a reporter. I have First Amendment Rights. I demand a lawyer.”

  “I see mikes up there,” Tyler said, craning his neck. “But I don’t think they’re on. They’re probably filming but people at home can’t hear us. If this is a TV show.”

  “They’ll be provided limited weaponry,” the voice from the speakers continued. “And unlimited zombies in a timed set of rounds.”

  “Oh shit,” Chris muttered. “This is bad.”

  “Are they serious?” Kelsey turned toward the others. Her eyes were wide and wild.

  “I think they are, my dear,” Gus said with a sigh. “So we had best get ready.”

  Heavy music played and Chris could just imagine that they were showing credits now, maybe even flashing pictures of him and his fellow “contestants” doing God knew what kind of criminal acts. He doubted that the producers of this “show” were telling the audience that all of them were working against the lies of the government.

  Robbery, murder, treason… sure, he would guess that would get an audience worked up. They might even root for the zombies.

  A bunch of rattling, banging sound echoed from above and the sound of metal doors slamming open.

  All four of them jerked their gazes upward. A shadow was descending and Chris’s heart started to pound against his ribcage so hard that it hurt. What the hell was coming toward them? A platform of zombies? A bunch of makeup and wardrobe people?

  The answer came soon enough. The platform stopped at about shoulder height and revealed weapons. Three weapons. A machete, a crossbow with about ten arrows and a baseball bat.

  “There are four of us,” Tyler said. “And only three weapons.”

  For a moment all of them looked at each other, then the teen snatched up the crossbow and arrows and headed across the cell.

  “What the fuck, kid?” Chris barked.

  “Stay back!” Tyler lifted his crossbow and loaded an arrow. “Don’t make me use this.”

  “Asshole,” Kelsey said. “Okay, two weapons and three of us. What to do?”

  “The prisoners have thirty seconds before insertion of zombies,” the voice from the speakers announced. There was a thrill from the voice. Like this was awesome.

  It was not awesome.

  “Chris should take one,” Gus said. “I’m a bit weak on my right side, I’m not sure I would do well.”

  Chris glanced at Kelsey, who shr
ugged, so he grabbed the machete. She took the bat. With a smile for Gus, she said, “Stay close to us. We’ll try to keep you safe.”

  Gus nodded. “Thank you, dear.”

  The platform that had held the weaponry rose up and away and then there was more banging. And it was joined by growling.

  “They’re coming,” Gus whispered as he backed closer to Kelsey.

  She nodded and maneuvered herself in front of him. One of the cement panels lifted with a grinding sound and revealed four zombies. They were half-rotten ones, obviously turned months before. Their clothing was tattered and dropped around their emaciated bodies. They were so decomposed that it was hard to tell if they had once been men or women.

  Not that it mattered. Zombies were zombies. Sex, religion, color… none of that mattered. Undeath was the ultimate equalizer. As the door clanged against the ceiling, the zombies turned and the caught sight of the four humans. They growled in unison and rushed in toward them.

  “Fight!” the announcer ordered from the speakers.

  “You don’t have to tell us twice, asshole!” Kelsey snapped as she swung the bat toward the first zombie who came close to her. She connected squarely, although only with an arm that went flying across the room like a boomerang.

  “The head, right?” Chris said with a glare in her direction.

  “You think I don’t know that after all this time?” Kelsey barked and swung again. This time her shot was true and she collapsed the skull of the zombie, crushing it like a tin can. “Ha!”

  Chris switched his attention to the three remaining zombies as he did his best to keep unarmed Gus behind him and away from harm. One of the zombies lumbered toward him, whimpering and grumbling in that annoying and repetitive way the creatures had. He slashed the machete toward him and neatly separated his rotting head from his decomposing neck. Across the room, Tyler fired his crossbow wildly.

  “Watch it, kid,” Gus said. “You don’t want to shoot us. Aim!”

  Tyler fired again and this time he hit his target right between the eyes. Kelsey finished a second zombie with her bat and the room was quiet again.

  But only for a moment. The speaker high above crackled again. “All our contestants have survived the first round. When we come back, the second wave of zombies! After this word from our sponsors.”