Contamination Box Set [Books 0-7]

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  It had been Quinn’s suggestion to stay here—and in hindsight, a damn good one.

  Howard’s home was equipped with steel doors on either side. Each had a quarter-inch metal bar that fit snugly into threaded supports along the frame. The windows contained thick metal borders, and each was made of bulletproof glass. The officer had stockpiled food throughout the house. The second bedroom contained three shelves full of dry goods, and the basement contained several freezers and refrigerators. The man had been prepared for what happened.

  Since arriving, Dan had rummaged through the whole house, searching for clues as to what was happening. In the process, he had uncovered several garbage bags full of unused groceries in the trashcan out back. He had quickly identified a pattern.

  All the new food had been purchased in the last two weeks. Everything else had been discarded.

  Whatever was happening to St. Matthews seemed to be connected to the food and water supply. So far, Dan and Quinn hadn’t been affected, but he wondered if it was a matter of time.

  After their arrival, Dan had ventured outside three times, but close calls with the creatures had sent him back into the house in a hurry. He hadn’t seen any signs of other survivors. The power was still on, but he wasn’t sure how long it would last.

  He had warned Quinn to stay away from the windows. In fact, they had kept the blinds closed throughout the house to avoid being seen by the creatures. A few times, they had watched some of the things hunting around the neighborhood, creeping in corners and sliding along walls. Dan had located a pair of binoculars in one of the drawers, and he studied the creature’s movements with growing dread. If they had been infected with some disease, they showed no signs of slowing down.

  Dan stood up from the couch, tiptoeing past his sleeping daughter, and parted the living room blinds. The night was still. There were only a few other houses on the street, and their lights remained off. He hadn’t seen a hint of movement inside them for the past few days. He felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t checked all of them, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his daughter alone. He had already lost her once.

  Dan thought back to what Quinn had told him— about the text message she had seen on Howard’s phone.

  Every last one must go.

  Somewhere, others knew what was coming, as well. They had planned this. The thought made him sick to his stomach. Dan heard his daughter stir from behind him. He let go of the blinds and returned to her side.

  Breakfast was jelly on bread, untoasted, and a bowl of Cheerios in milk. Dan had been avoiding the oven and the toaster, afraid that the smells might draw the attention of the creatures. The milk in Howard’s fridge hadn’t yet expired. It made sense to use it up. They had enough food in the house to last for a while, but he knew they couldn’t stay there forever.

  Sooner or later, they’d need to make their escape. They needed to get help.

  Howard didn’t have a phone in the house. On his few journeys out, Dan had tried to call for help—using both landlines and his cellphone. Not a single call had gone through. It was as if the whole world was dead. Try as he might, he was unable to push the awful thought from his mind.

  Quinn sat across from him at the kitchen table, her mouth full of Cheerios. For a split second, Dan felt a sense of normalcy, as if today could have been any other day, as if she would soon head off to school and he to work.

  “Are we going to put more food in the car, Daddy?”

  “Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” he said.

  Over the past few days, they had been transferring food from Howard’s house to the Outback. Dan wanted to stock it up in case they had to leave suddenly. It was best to stay prepared.

  So far, they hadn’t run into any trouble, but Dan knew that their luck could change at any minute. Which was why they needed to leave St. Matthews. It wasn’t safe here. He held out hope that somewhere beyond the White Mountains, things were better. That he could provide safety for his daughter.

  That he could come to terms with his wife’s death.

  In the chaos and insanity, Dan hadn’t had time to accept the reality of Julie’s passing. Hell—he hadn’t even been given a chance to grieve. There had been little discussion of returning home. It wasn’t safe, and he didn’t want Quinn to see her mother’s body. The girl had been through enough.

  Quinn gulped down the last bite of her Cheerios, and tilted the bowl to drink the milk from the bottom. At home, Julie would have told her to mind her manners. Now, Dan let out a guarded smile.

  “Good to the last drop, huh?”

  She nodded. Quinn stood, bowl in hand, and headed towards the sink. She rinsed the bowl quietly and then placed it on the counter. The spoon fell from her grip, and pinged off the basin below.

  “Shhhh…” he warned.

  “I know, Daddy,” she returned.

  She reached over to the window above the sink and parted the blinds.

  “I wish we could go outside,” she said. “It seems like such a beautiful day.”

  A ray of sunshine cleared the countertop and hit the floor. Dan followed it back up to the window, smiling.

  He bolted upright in his chair.

  One of the creatures was pressing its face against the pane, eyes glazed and overcast. It rapped at the glass with its knuckles, feeling for a way in. Quinn stifled a scream.

  They had been discovered.

  Dan crept to the living room and grabbed a pistol, then snuck over to the front blinds. He peered outside, looking for signs of movement. The road was empty, the houses across the street undisturbed. The Outback sat in the driveway. There was no sign of the thing from the backyard.

  But he was sure it would make its way around front eventually.

  Hopefully, it would lose interest and leave. The last thing he wanted was for it to draw others.

  Quinn stood behind him, holding the back of his shirt.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered.

  “It’s not your fault, Quinn,” he said.

  And he meant it. None of it was. Not one single thing.

  “Why don’t you get the cooler ready? Pack it as full as you can,” he instructed, hoping to keep her busy. “And bring it back to the living room. Stay clear of the blinds.”

  She nodded and started upstairs. Dan followed the windows one by one to the back of the house, scanning for the intruder. He finally found it, hovering by the side of the house. It looked up at him through the glass, seeming to sense his presence. Its teeth were caked with yellow and red, its skin a dull gray. The creatures were changing. It seemed like they were growing more grotesque by the day. The thing reached up towards him and groped at the window. He dropped the blinds. With only one creature outside, they should still be safe. They’d wait it out until the thing left. It shouldn’t be able to get inside.

  He heard a bang from upstairs.

  “Are you all right up there?” he called.

  “Yes, Dad. I’m almost done.”

  He made his way back to the living room. A black tote bag lay on the floor next to the weapons. He filled it with as much as he could carry: ammunition, guns, and batons, as well as a bulletproof vest. When he finished, he lifted the bag and deposited it near the front door. It was best to be prepared. He returned to the windows.

  This time Dan did a double take. A horde of creatures was making its way down the road, headed in their direction. Arms and legs swayed back and forth, heads bobbed, and limbs tangled as they moved in one mass. Although he was unable to count them all, he guessed there were at least twenty of the things.

  He sucked in a breath, envisioning their lives in the days to come. They could hide in the house for a while, living off the food that Howard had left. Wait for help to arrive. But what if the creatures kept coming, and what if they found a w
ay in? And more importantly, what if no help came? Try as he might, Dan couldn’t help but envision the house as their tomb.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  He needed to get his daughter to safety, no matter what it took. This might be their last chance to escape St. Matthews.

  “Quinn, it’s time!” he yelled, trying his best to sound calm.

  “Coming!”

  She bounded down the stairs, the cooler swinging in front of her.

  “What are you looking at? What do you see, Dad?” she asked, inching closer.

  “Listen, Quinn. I’m going to need your help here. We need to move fast,” he began. She started to shake. He locked eyes with her. “When I open this door, I need you to get to the car and get inside. Don’t look around—just lock the doors. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Dad, I’m scared!”

  “We’re going to get out of here, and we’re going to get help,” he assured her.

  She clung on to his shirt, crying. His heart felt like a stone in his chest. She looked into his eyes and nodded. Dan moved towards the front door, carrying the tote bag. He lifted the metal rod from the holders and unlocked it. Through the screen, he could see the swarm of creatures getting closer.

  “Oh my God…” Quinn whispered.

  “Don’t look. When I open the door, run straight to the car.”

  He handed her the key, and gave her one last look before pushing open the screen door. His daughter took off in front of him. Dan threw the tote bag into the front yard, and retrieved the pistol from the floor. He then slammed the door shut behind him and stepped outside.

  Quinn was almost at the car already, her legs pumping against the walkway. She carried the cooler in front of her. She was at the passenger’s side door now, unlocking the vehicle. The creatures broke into a run, fanning out across the street. Dan grabbed the weapons bag and began to sprint. Adrenaline coursed through his arms, and he held the pistol sideways at the approaching mob.

  The tote bag tangled in something, and he stopped short, losing his grip. He glanced behind him. The creature from the backyard had snagged it, and the thing dove into him, clawing at his leg, pulling him onto the grass. Dan yelled in surprise, and the pistol he was holding flew from his hands.

  “Daddy!”

  Quinn had opened the car door, but instead of getting inside, she stood next to it and yelled his name.

  “Get in and lock the doors!” he cried out.

  The creature locked its grip on his pants, and he felt nails dig into his pants. He kicked backwards at it. He was pinned. Quinn got back in the car and shut the door behind her.

  Footsteps hit the grass around him. The others had entered the property, and he heard them groaning in unison. He pushed up from the ground, trying to shake the thing loose. The creature clung on to his back, unrelenting.

  The car horn sounded.

  Dan looked to his left. A few of the creatures moved towards the vehicle.

  “Quinn—no! Don’t draw their attention!”

  He wrenched his back to the side, and the creature loosened its grasp. He swung an elbow backwards, felt the crunch of bone behind him as it connected with the thing’s face. Suddenly he was free.

  Dan regained his footing and stumbled toward the car. Several other creatures lunged in his direction, but he weaved from side to side, dodging them.

  Finally he reached the driver’s side door. Quinn stopped hitting the horn, and she threw open the door to allow him access. He jumped inside.

  Quinn had already started the engine. Dan threw the vehicle into reverse and careened out of the driveway, the car door still swinging open behind him.

  19

  Dan maneuvered the Outback through St. Matthews, the streets lifeless and empty. Even in the daylight, porch lights still burned in front of some of the houses. Doors were left open; windows were smashed. Quinn sat upright in the passenger seat next to him biting her nails.

  They passed by a carcass on the side of the road. A few birds picked at the remains, and then scattered at the sight of the approaching car. Farther ahead, a creature emerged from a driveway, holding a fistful of hair. Quinn stared, unable to look away.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t.

  Dan continued driving toward the outskirts of town. The houses grew more infrequent. He looked down at the gas gauge, which showed that the tank was half empty. They would need more than that to have a fighting chance. There was a gas station about a mile up the road—the last one in town before heading into the White Mountains.

  He saw it now, up ahead, and he pulled into the parking lot next to the pumps, hoping they were still operational. He drew his pistol and left the car running. Although he had lost the tote bag at the house, he had hidden one gun in the car. Thank God, he thought.

  The gas station was deserted. The front windows had been smashed, and items of food and clothing were strewn across the front entrance. Dan scanned in all directions, finding nothing. He opened the car door, gripping the weapon, and popped the gas tank.

  The pumps appeared functional—their lights indicated the price of gas, and options for payment. Dan pulled his wallet out and removed his debit card. He chuckled slightly. Even at the end of existence, the oil companies were still making out like bandits. He contemplated going inside to search for supplies, but decided against it. He had risked enough. They needed to get as far away from St. Matthews as possible.

  Dan topped off the tank, and then opened the trunk, where he kept a gas can. He filled it to the top, replaced the spout cap, and put it back in the vehicle. He got back into the car and locked the door.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  “Away from here. Things will be better once we get out of town,” he said.

  “Do you promise?” Quinn looked at him, her eyes wide.

  “I promise.”

  Dan pulled out from the gas station and into the road. Up ahead, Route 191 wound up into the mountains, providing a bridge to the outside world. He hit the gas and felt the car accelerate, then rolled his window down, letting in the fresh morning air.

  They have to get better, he told himself. They sure as hell couldn’t get any worse.

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  Contamination 1: The Onset follows another group of survivors as they struggle to escape the chaos…and to discover the truth about what is happening.

  Dan and Quinn return in Contamination 2: Crossroads!

  BOOK ONE: THE ONSET

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to CED, for your never-ending support, and to CBA for setting this thing into motion.

  PART ONE – EXODUS

  1

  White Mist, New Mexico

  Population: 1

  Surrounded by whipping sand and dust, the brown sign stood resilient at the town’s perimeter. Sam Cook could still make out the faded sticker that had been placed over the single numeric digit on its face, even though it had been a few years. That was how the DOT amended things these days. If a change were small enough, a patch would suffice to update the information.

  He could’ve requested a new sign—hell, he was now the only resident of the town. But the thin border around the number reminded him of the sign’s previous digit. It was one he did not want to forget.

  He imagined a line that should have been placed underneath:

  White Mist, New Mexico

  Former Population: 3.

  Sam had only lived in town with his wife and daughter for two years before the tragedy had occurred. Together, they’d rebuilt the historic log cabin store, turning it into a small-scale tourist attraction. Purchasing the town had been a lifelong dream, and they’d poured all their efforts into it.


  Because the White Mist store contained a post office, it qualified for its own zip code. Several families had once resided there, but they’d long since relocated. The previous owners were an elderly couple from Iowa. They’d decided to sell the property when the upkeep became too much to handle.

  Sam’s family had spent long hours renovating the property, and he was proud of what they had accomplished. He liked to think that after a few short years, the White Mist Trading Post had become not only a pit stop for gas and beverages, but a piece of history and a symbol of the American West.

  A bit of a stretch, perhaps. But now the store was all he had.

  The shelves were adorned with a variety of commemorative merchandise: White Mist shirts, mugs, key chains, and hats. It didn’t cost much to produce them, and they helped tremendously in keeping the place afloat and in keeping his family clothed and fed.

  Of course, now there was only one mouth to feed.

  At the moment, the store was empty. Sam wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow and paused. In front of him was a half-empty shelf of dried noodles. On the floor was a case of replenishments. He needed a break.

  He moved towards the screen door at the entrance, listening to the floor squeak underneath him. The door seemed ready to expire; it creaked on its hinges, begging for relief. The place needed work. He tried his best to keep it up, but there was only so much he could do alone.

  He surveyed the empty parking lot in front of him. Beyond it was an equally deserted portion of I-40. The southwestern desert stretched endlessly for miles, composed of scorching, earthy landscape, with occasional patches of green that helped offset the brown scenery. In the distance, a few mountains rose skyward.