Dead Sector (Book 2): Denver

by Jason Hartwell

  “No worries,” Chase said handing over the bottle, “I don’t even know why it bothered me. Take it easy, this is the last one.”

  Janice nodded, took a small sip and handed it back.

  “I think it is just cabin fever. Sick baby or not we need to get out of here.”

  “Yeah, well at least you have your girlfriend along.”

  Chase smiled, “I can’t complain about that part.”

  “I know, I heard.”

  “Sorry, we tried to be discreet, but this is still a two bedroom apartment.”

  “No need to apologize, how long have guys been dating?”

  “A week.”

  Janice laughed, “True love at the end of the world.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Did she ever tell you why she was running around downtown Denver with an assault rifle?”

  “No, and I’m not asking again.”

  “Sore point?”

  “Yeah, I have a feeling it is a sad story.”

  "You know she may be the first young woman in the history of our species who refused to hold a baby."

  "If you say so," Chase said going back to looking at the map.

  “Anything changed since the last time you looked at it?”

  “No.”

  The map had been studied thoroughly since Don drug it out of the closet. Any way they turned it, there was twenty miles between them and Red Rocks. Three miles through surface streets they could see were teeming with ravenous creatures with a taste for human flesh, to get to Interstate seventy, then a fourteen mile straight shot to highway ninety three, another two miles to the Morrison exit, then another mile or so to the actual amphitheater. Without traffic a thirty minute drive, but even if they had a car, the road was graveyard of abandoned vehicles, many like Don and Donna’s smashed up and inoperable. There was a good chance the interstate was just as bad if not worse.

  They would have a tough time making it the three miles to I-70, assuming they made it out of the building.

  The problem was staying in the penthouse was no longer a viable option. The food was long gone, and if not for a few afternoon thunderstorms the water would have run out too. Add to everything else Don Jr. was struggling. Born around eight pounds, he was down to around six. The breast milk of a malnourished mother was not enough. More than once during the past week, they thought he was gone. Dr. Stills revived him twice with CPR, and one time after they had all given up, he coughed twice and snapped back to life.

  Don and Dr. Stills advocated for a supply run, a recon mission into neighboring apartments, or maybe into the street to get food and possibly medicine. They both felt there would be a rescue at some point and the smart play would be to stay hunkered down and wait for it. Dr. Stills like to say, “The best thing to do when lost in the woods is to stay put and let them find you, and I think that advice applies here too.”

  Chase and Jennifer lobbied for going all the way, seeing the idea of a supply run as a temporary fix. They felt if they were going to take the barricade down and face the hungry horde waiting for them below they might as well try to make it all the way to Red Rocks. They did not think a rescue was coming, and with every passing hour without anyone showing up they seemed to have more of a point.

  When the discussion became heated, Donna found another place for her and her baby to be. Janice assumed she was with Don on this, but she had not heard Donna express an opinion one way or the other.

  Janice changed her mind depending on the hour.

  Don emerged from the bedroom and saw Chase looking at the map. Janice braced herself for another argument over the best course of action.

  Chase did not say anything, he just pointed at the bottle of water.

  Don picked it up and took a small sip. He went to the window and looked at the blue cloudless sky.

  “We have to do something,” he said, “and we have to do it today.”

  “Shall we put it to a vote?” Chase said, “Jennifer and I will do whatever the majority decides.”

  “Donna will side with me, and I assume Jennifer has not changed her mind, and I doubt Dr. Sills has had a change of heart.”

  He paused to look at Janice. Chase did the same.

  “It’s up to you.”

  “No, no way. I tell people the time and the weather while a second rate comic makes dick jokes on the radio. I’m not qualified for this kind of decision.”

  “So what, I sold cars. You are as qualified as any of us.”

  “That is kind of terrifying.”

  “Doesn’t make it less true,” Don added.

  “Well. . .” Janice began, but the crackle of the shortwave interrupted her.

  “D.J. Janice?” a voice said through the short waves tiny speaker.

  Janice scooped up the microphone, “This is D.J. Janice, who is this?”

  “This is Derrick, co-commander the EDZRT.”

  “The what?”

  “East Denver Zombie Response Team.”

  “Are you with the military?”

  “No, independent citizen organization.”

  “Like a militia?”

  “I guess.”

  “How old are you Co-Commander Derrick?”

  “Old enough to still be alive and well during a zombie apocalypse.”

  “He sounds about fifteen, but he has a point.” Chase said.

  “How can I help you Co-Commander Derrick?”

  “Well, I was hoping we could help each other.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t need much, let’s start with you. Is there something I can do to help you?”

  “There is, but I don’t know what you can do, it’s a tough one.”

  “Try me.”

  “Well me and six other people are trapped on the top floor of an apartment building downtown.”

  “Building infested?”

  “Completely.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Seriously?”

  “We’re the EDZRT, this is what we do.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “I say so.”

  Everyone in the apartment was in the room now, gathered around Janice’s radio.

  “Ask what he wants from us,” Jennifer said.

  “From the sound of his voice, he probably wants someone to buy him some beer,” Don added.

  “What do you want from us?” Janice asked.

  “Gas money.”

  Chapter 5

  The EDZRT - day one

  Derrick drove the Suzuki and Dwayne took the suburban. Lita, Fat, Luis, and even Gilbert and Thomas were waiting at the Circle K.

  Fat was sipping on a extra large Mountain Dew, saying “The sugar and caffeine will heighten my senses.”

  “It will also make you have to pee.” Lita told him.

  Thomas brushed a strand of greasy hair from his face before saying, “I know I have not been going to all the training and shit but I assume you guys have like a gun and shit for me.”

  “Dude, you haven’t been a member for like six years,” Gilbert said.

  “You’re one to talk, you haven’t been showing up much lately yourself,” Luis told his brother.

  “Technically Luis, neither have you,” Lita said.

  “More than these two.”

  “Shit man, I started this whole thing, without me there isn’t even a Zombie team and shit.” Thomas said.

  “You ever shot a gun dude?” Fat asked Thomas.

  “Of course.”

  “That fired something other than plastic B.B.’s?”

  “No, but it is more or less the same thing and shit.”

  “No one is giving you a gun,” Lita said.

  Before Thomas could argue Dwayne pulled up.

  “Who is this and shit?” Thomas asked.

  No one answered. Dwayne opened the trunk and started passing out gear, starting with the battle armor. While Dwayne was distributing the gear, Derrick pulled up in the Suzuki.

  “Wha
t about us?” Gilbert asked as the others started putting on their armor.

  No one answered him either. Derrick and Dwayne quickly got their stuff on, looking like they were getting ready to do some serious mountain biking, until instead of a bike they pulled the homemade turret with an AK-47 attached out of the trunk.

  They mounted it on the Suzuki. Dwayne slapped an extended magazine in the stock in front of the trigger and chambered a round.

  “Can I fire that one and shit?” Thomas asked.

  “No,” everyone, even Gilbert, said at once.

  “What am I going to use then?”

  Fat finished holstering a pair of Glock Seventeens and tossed him a baseball bat, “Don’t hit yourself, or any of us with it.”

  Lita manned the gun on top of the Suzuki, her height and marksmanship made her the perfect candidate to man the turret. Fat rode shotgun, literally, since he was armed with a shotgun, and Derrick drove the Suzuki. Dwayne and everybody else took the Suburban.

  Traffic was light on the I-70 west. On the radio they heard it was closed and people were being advised to stay indoors. They were about half way there when they came to the roadblock set up by the police. Lita realized if they saw her with the AK on the roof they could end up having a battle with the cops instead of the undead. She ducked down and did her best to squeeze into what was left of the backseat.

  “What the hell are you?” one of the officers said as they approached.

  “East Denver Zombie Response Team,” Derrick said as he put his guns under the seat and exited the vehicle, “we are here to help.”

  “We don’t need your help,” the cop said as he pointed to a place where they had made a turnaround so people going West on the freeway could get their vehicles going the opposite direction. “Go home and do it now, if I had time I would arrest all of you.”

  Derrick looked over and saw the other side was blocked too. They were letting cars out, but everyone was getting a once over by the police before they were allowed to go through.

  Derrick looked back at Dwayne, who had pulled in behind him. Dwayne looked ready to shoot it out with the cops.

  “Let’s do as he says,” Lita said, “we did not train to kill cops.”

  “Or more likely be killed by them,” Fat added, pointing towards the armored vehicles on both sides of the road and the small army of guys in tactical gear milling around the scene.

  “This sucks,” Derrick said getting back in the car.

  “We would be better off patrolling our own neighborhood anyway. It may need it. All the cops are here,” Lita said.

  “I guess,” Derrick said, “still feels like we are getting shut out of the action.”

  “Hey,” the cop said pointing at the turnaround, “get out of here, and do it now.”

  Derrick began swinging the Suzuki towards the turnaround. Dwayne and the suburban waited until the cop yelled at him and then followed.

  Fat finished his soda and turned to Lita, “You were right, I’ve got to pee something fierce.” He turned back to Derrick, “Don’t take it so hard, this shit may be far from over with.”

  Derrick was about to respond when commotion at the roadblock on the east side of the freeway caught his attention. A car slammed into the roadblock, at the same time the person on the passenger side of one of the cars at the checkpoint grabbed the cop looking in the car and sunk her teeth into his neck. The driver of the car jumped out and tried to run.

  Derrick had the feeling he was running from his own passenger, and was shocked when the police shot him dead.

  Derrick grabbed his spotting scope from the pocket he had sewn for it in his armor. People were leaving their cars and running to the checkpoint. A cop on a bullhorn ordered everyone back in their vehicles. When no one complied right away the police began opening fire.

  After the first wave fell under the police bullets the second wave started running the other way. Another car tried to run the checkpoint and it came to a stop quickly as the cops turned the car into a rolling piece of Swiss cheese.

  For a moment things seemed to have come to a stop. It appeared order may indeed have been restored by the bullets of law enforcement. Then the dead started getting back up.

  ****

  Dwayne was already in a bad mood having to haul around what was basically the ‘B’ team. Derrick liked to think of himself as the leader, and Dwayne let him, confident when things got hairy Derrick would be smart enough to defer to Dwayne's experience.

  The fact the only people Dwayne could find who could see a world changing event was inevitable were some goofy kids just out of high school just made the already cynical Dwayne even more pessimistic. It wasn’t like gun gathering paranoids did not exist in the area, but most of them were terribly redneck and some just a step away from being white supremacist groups. A guy with Dwaynes skin tone had trouble feeling welcome with them, even if they made an effort to be friendly.

  So he was stuck with Derrick and his crew. They were dweebs, but Dwayne had seen plenty of people who were down around the first rung on the high school social ladder become excellent soldiers. Dwayne did not like to admit it, but he was not exactly dating the prom queen himself back in high school. All it took was motivation, Derrick had plenty of that and so did the rest to varying degrees, and training. Dwayne felt he had provided the training.

  When things started going crazy in front of them, he remembered some of his own training and took a glance at what was behind them. He was glad he did. People were jumping the barrier between the East and West side of the road and coming at the roadblock on the West side.

  Unlike the group on the East side, who seemed to be primed for trouble and were quick on the trigger when things started to turn ugly, the west side group hesitated. Dwayne saw a man running like a dog on all fours jump the roadblock and tackle a cop. Another officer went to help him, instead of shooting the attacker he smacked him with his baton. The attacker was on him in a flash.

  “Did that dude just like bite a cop and shit?” Thomas asked.

  “Time to step up boys,” Dwayne said as he grabbed his rifle and opened his car door, “shit has gone down.”

  “Should we like get out and shit?” Thomas asked.

  Luis and Gilbert watched the first cop who had been attacked rise up and start biting a fellow officer about the face.

  “I’m thinking we get the fuck out of here,” Gilbert said crawling over the front seat and taking the wheel. In his haste to get into the action Dwayne had left the keys.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Luis told him, as he opened his door, “Don’t leave until I get back with Dwayne.”

  “Fuck that. . .” Gilbert started to say, but shut his mouth when Luis drew a big blue Smith and Wesson revolver from the holster under his arm.

  “Like I said, don’t even think about it.”

  “You’d kill your own brother?”

  “No, but I would blow his big toe off,” Luis said pointing the gun at his brother’s foot.

  “All right I’m staying,” Gilbert said moving his hands away from the wheel.

  Luis exited and scanned the street looking for signs of the undead.

  The first attacker turned his way and got into a crouch. Luis was not sure if this was a zombie but it certainly looked like it meant him harm. He unloaded his pistol towards it, actually connecting with three of the six bullets. The thing fell over but popped right back up. Luis had a speedloader handy, but in his haste to replenish his ammunition he dropped it. He reached down and saw the crouching man was almost on top of him.

  Dwayne smashed it with his club, an aluminum baseball bat with four axe blades welded around the top. It went down, but was on it’s way back up when Dwayne crushed its head with his blade bat. He left the blade bat stuck in the things head and brought the AR-15 hanging from a strap on his shoulder up into firing position.

  “Get down,” he told Luis, who did so just before Dwayne fired taking out a man running on all fours toward them.


  “Headshots,” Dwayne told him, as he swiveled and took out another man stumbling around like a classic slow moving zombie.

  Luis was just picking up his speed-loader when he saw Dwayne take down two cops with yellow eyes and blood dripping from their mouths.

  “I’m empty,” Dwayne said, “cover me.”

  Luis did not want to tell him his gun was not loaded either, and Dwayne was too busy slapping in a new magazine to ask. Luis saw another one with yellow eyes and a bloody face crouching to charge. He could see Dwayne was not ready and neither was he.

  Before it moved Thomas brained it from behind with his baseball bat.

  “I just killed a motherfucking zombie and shit,” he shouted waving his bat in the air.

  While he was celebrating, one of the zombies jumped on his back and tore off his ear with its teeth.

  Thomas tried to hit it with his bat, but soon went down. Thomas falling to the pavement gave Luis a clear view as his brother drove the Suburban away.

  “What the Hell?” Luis said.

  Dwayne put three bullets into the one munching on Thomas, “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t worry about it? We’re screwed.”

  “Yep, but there is nothing we can do about but keep killing these yellow eyed bastards, so concentrate on that.”

  Luis nodded. He saw one the things on top of a cop, a bunch a skin in its teeth as it pulled off a piece of the peace officer’s face. He sighted up and put a bullet between its yellow eyes.

  ****

  Unlike Dwayne, the EDZRT in the Suzuki had not looked back.

  “I think these cops might actually need our help,” Lita said.

  “Yeah,” Derrick responded, he looked at Fat, “See that lever in the bar welded to the front, the car? you should be able to reach it through the window."

  "What does it do?"

  Derrick smiled reached out his window for the lever on his side, "Just do it."

  They pulled the levers and metal spikes shot out of the front of the vehicle.

  "Is that another lever on my door?" Fat asked as a huge grin grew on his face.

  "Damn right."

  They pulled the levers and Derricks Suzuki grew more spikes as the custom armor he and Dwayne had worked hard to install came to life. A person charged them, moving on all fours with its mouth wide open.