Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4

by Picott, Camille

  “Kate!” Caleb drops his artillery pack to the ground.

  “Caleb!” Ash screams, but he’s already leaped into the water.

  “Fuck this.” Ben drops his pack. He doesn’t give a shit if he drowns. If he loses Kate, there’s no reason to keep going.

  As he splashes into the ocean, he finds Reed by his side. The boy’s mouth is set, eyes narrowed in concentration.

  “We are not losing Mama,” he states.

  “Fucking right we’re not losing her,” Ben snarls.

  A wave rushes them. He and Reed grab onto one another. Ben bends his knees and braces himself.

  The cold descends, sucking the breath from his lungs. It yanks at him, trying to haul him out to sea. Ben digs his nails into Reed’s arms and leans back, fighting the pull of the water.

  The wave is gone almost as quickly as it arrives. He and Reed sputter in the surf, still hanging onto one another like lifelines.

  Ben searches the waves. There. He sees Kate’s cropped hair. It disappears, sucked under by a wave. A second later he sees the sleeve of her pink shirt

  Caleb cuts through the waves, snagging the flash of pink. Kate’s head appears as Caleb drags her upright. The younger man battles the waves, trying to drag them both to shore.

  “Come on!” Reed cries. Caleb and Kate are no more than ten feet away, struggling toward them.

  Ben and Reed fight their way through the surf to Kate and Caleb. Kate’s face is set, the fight in every muscle. Caleb looks like a spawn of Poseidon rising out of the surf, one hand still tangled in Kate’s shirt as saltwater streams down his face. Reed and Ben each grab one of Kate’s arms, freeing Caleb to steady himself.

  The four of them fight their way through the waves that suck at their feet and legs. Kate heaves, throwing up water even as she forces her feet to carry her back to the shore.

  As soon as they exit the water, she croaks out a single word: “Move!”

  Everyone stares at her as she vomits up more seawater. “Move!” she snaps. “Reed, lead them.”

  “But—”

  “Go!” she screams.

  Reed takes off, leading the pack. Ben takes up the rear with Kate, shouldering the pack of weapons.

  “Leave it,” she wheezes beside him. “Too heavy.”

  “No.”

  She coughs, taking a few staggering steps forward. She should be wrapped in a blanket by a fire with something warm to drink, not trying to run down this godforsaken stretch of beach.

  “You’re not dying for that shit,” she tells him.

  “I’m not dying. Move, Kate.”

  She glares at him, though not with any heat. He watches her set her jaw and plow forward. He glues himself to her side, matching her pace.

  Now, finally, he has a true understanding of what she’s been training them for. Why she talked about the importance of relegating pain to a distant part of the mind and pushing on. Why she insisted they all be able to run for four hours straight without being tired or sore the next day. Why she made them run up and down the bleacher stairs. Why she made them sprint around the track.

  It was all for this. So that when the day came, they could keep themselves alive.

  The terrain is complete shit. It wasn’t made for running. Kate makes it look easy, springing along beside him. She might look like a drowned cat, but she moves like a gazelle.

  Ben lumbers along, lungs burning. The pack drags on his shoulders. He refuses to let it slow him down. He’s hauled packs every bit as heavy as this before. Granted, he wasn’t running for his life from the goddamn ocean, but he’s logged lots of hours with heavy gear packs. They’re getting out of this place with their guns, no matter what.

  Water splashes around his feet. Dammit. The tide has crept up even farther, pushing them up against the cliffs. He grits his teeth, moving several inches away from the water. They can’t afford to play chicken with the surf. It cost them precious minutes to save Kate. They might not be so lucky a second time.

  The bleached remains of an enormous tree looms before them, ejected from the ocean on the Lost Coast. It sits perpendicular to the shore, blocking their path. The trunk is three feet in some places. Those in front of them clamber over before disappearing down the far side.

  He and Kate tackle the tree, the two of them grappling with the smooth bark. Kate flings one leg sideways and slides over. Ben follows suit. They land on the other side and keep running, catching up with the rest of the group.

  “See that spit of land?” Susan points, never slowing her pace. She limps on her twisted ankle, but manages to keep up with the rest of the group. “Just on the other side of those boulders. We’ll be safe there.”

  “That’s at least a mile away,” Eric says.

  No one has a reply to that. The water pushes them closer and closer toward the cliff. Motherfucker.

  He grits his teeth and throws all his concentration into running. Left foot, right foot, watch that rock, left foot, sidestep that chunk of driftwood, right foot. His legs burn. His chest burns. His shoulders ache. He’s wet. He’s cold.

  But he’s alive. He intends to stay that way. The pain and discomfort of trying to sprint down a rocky beach can go fuck itself.

  Eric trips on a rock and sprawls. Ben grabs him by the back of his pack, hauling him up. The side of his cheek has a gash. The front of his shirt is torn.

  “Don’t stop” Kate huffs. “Shake it off, Eric.”

  He nods, pushes up his glasses, and keeps running.

  Kate has conditioned the shit out of these kids. He doesn’t know any other barely-twenty idiot who could push hard like this without complaint.

  Who would have thought that running for his life along a beach in the middle of nowhere would make him admire Kate even more than he already does? Life can be fucked up like that.

  “Push!” Kate screams. “Run with everything you’ve got.” She follows her own order, picking up her pace.

  Ben struggles to keep up. It’s obvious why she’s ratcheting up the tension.

  The last five hundred yards is a field of massive boulders. Once they hit those rocks, it will be a full-out scramble.

  And most of them are already covered with water.

  54

  Impassable Zone

  KATE

  I’m wet. I’m cold. I’m terrified.

  Worries scroll through my brain. What if someone falls and breaks something? What if another sneaker wave comes? What if the weapon packs are too heavy? What if we can’t cross the boulders in time? Whatif-whatif-whatif ...

  I feel like I’m running in Jell-O. I know what my body is capable of, but the terrain holds me back. And every millisecond of delay brings the tide closer to us.

  I drop back behind Ben, determined to see every last one of my people out of the impassable zone.

  “Stay next to me,” Ben snaps, wheezing as he sucks in air. “I can’t see you—”

  “It’s too narrow,” I snap back, maintaining my position behind him. Running side by side will mean one of us will be in the water, which is too dangerous. “I’ll be fine. Keep moving.”

  He grinds to a halt. “I need to be able to see you—”

  “Move, god dammit,” I scream at him.

  He gives me a solid glare before turning his back on me and resuming his run.

  Our stretch of beach abruptly disappears, depositing us at the foot of the boulder field. Ben scrambles onto them, pausing only long enough to make sure I’m still behind him.

  I leap up after him, legs bent and arms stretched forward for balance. I move like a giant crab, leaping from rock to rock. Each time I land, I crouch only long enough to secure my balance with my hands. Then I leap for the next stone.

  “I’m too old for this shit,” Ben gasps. Despite his complaining, he moves with the same dexterity as the younger men. Even with the giant pack on his back, his balance is solid. His active life in the military has kept him in great shape.

  I scramble and leap along with him. The oc
ean pounds the rocks directly to our right, sending up spray and gouts of water. Our path narrows as the water reaches steadily for us.

  Ahead of us, a huge wave rears over the shore. It looms directly over Ash and Caleb. The rest of the crew is only a short distance ahead of them.

  “Look out!” I shriek.

  Their reflexes are whip-quick. Ash drops down between two large rocks and wedges herself between them. Caleb throws his arms around a boulder. Reed, Eric, and Susan dash forward, cranking hard to get ahead of the water.

  Caleb and Ash are lost in a crash of gray water and white flecks of sea foam. I freeze where I am, crouched on a giant black boulder beside Ben. I hold my breath, waiting for the tide to recede.

  The water rolls back. I let out a cry of relief when Ash and Caleb pop up from the rocks and continue their frantic scramble. We catch up to them, the four of us spidering together over the rocks. The others have reached the safe zone.

  Ben slips. He tips sideways with a shout.

  “Got you!” I grab his arm, counterbalancing him with my own weight.

  “Thanks.” He shoves a neighboring boulder with his foot, righting himself.

  I leap for the next rock right as another wave rears up. “Get back,” I cry, lunging closer to the cliff wall. Ben, Caleb, and Ash all do the same.

  I reach out and latch onto Ben’s hand just as the wave hits us. The water pulls at his body. Digging my nails into his flesh, I hang on, refusing to let go. I wedge my feet between two rocks, bending my knees for leverage.

  Shivering and terrified, I shake my head to clear water from my eyes as the wave recedes. Ash crouches beside me. Ben is draped on the rocks by my feet, both of my arms wrapped around his forearm.

  “Caleb!” Ash scrambles to where he lays on his back in the valley between several rocks. “Caleb!”

  Keeping one eye on the water, I join Ash. Ben is right behind me. We reach Caleb as he picks himself up. A nasty, jagged cut gushes blood across his thigh.

  “You’re okay,” I tell him, looping an arm under one armpit to lever him up. Ash grabs his other arm while Ben grabs the back of his pack. “You’re okay, Caleb.”

  I have no idea if he really is okay. I only know that he has to be okay enough to make it another two hundred and fifty yards to the end of the impassable zone. Reed, Susan, and Eric have all made it. They wave their arms and yell as us from a safe spot well away from the water.

  “Incoming!” Reed bellows.

  I look up just as another wave hits us. I throw my arms around Caleb, clinging to him. I have a brief flash of Ben and Ash doing the same thing.

  The four of us hang on for dear life as another wave closes over our heads. We’re pushed sideways toward the cliff. Stone presses into my side. Water rushes over my face. I refuse to let go.

  As soon as the water clears, we hurry to right ourselves. Caleb sits up, lifting himself off me. Ben picks himself up off the rocks. Ash removes herself from the top of Caleb’s bad leg where she fell.

  “You’re okay,” I murmur to Caleb. “Two hundred and fifty yards. You’ve got this.”

  “I’ve got this,” he growls in agreement, jaw set with determination. He lifts himself up, springing forward with more agility than I would have thought possible considering his wound.

  By this time, we’re forced to hug the side of the cliff, scrambling over the boulders as fast as we can as waves collide into the rocks at our feet. My back aches from the constant crouch. My quads burn from the squatting. I ignore the pain, throwing all my focus at safety.

  Safety. It’s no more than two hundred yards away.

  A surge of water rises around us, soaking us up to our ankles. The world beneath our feet becomes inky black. We’re forced to halt and wait for the water to recede so we can see where to step.

  “Don’t stop!” Eric yells. “Hurry!”

  I grind my teeth, resisting the urge to shout back. As soon as the water clears, we’re off again. Ash leads the way, springing from rock to rock like a gymnast. She doesn’t even have to lean forward to balance with her hands like the rest of us.

  One-hundred-fifty yards. We’re almost there.

  Another surge of water gushes forward, this time rushing all the way up to our knees. I grab onto the side of the cliff for balance as the tide sucks back out, leaning and fighting for balance.

  One-hundred yards.

  Caleb stumbles on his injured leg. Ben catches him, keeping him upright. Seeing the two men work together gives me a surge of pride.

  The feeling is short-lived as water once again gushes forward. This time, it comes up to our thighs.

  This time, it doesn’t recede.

  “Shit,” I snarl. To my people, I bark, “Move! The tide is in. Swim!”

  Ash, still in the lead, is the first to splash down into the surf. The tide pulls at her. She fights to stay on course for the safe zone on the far side of the rocks.

  Fifty yards. That’s all that lies between us and safety.

  “Drop the packs,” I order. “Now.”

  Caleb doesn’t hesitate. He slings off his weapons pack and chucks it as hard as he can in the surf. With any luck, it will wash up onto shore. Honestly, I don’t care what happens to the weapons so long as Caleb is okay. He jumps after Ash, long, sure strokes cutting through the water.

  Ben hesitates.

  There is no time for arguing. I summon every ounce of Mama Bear authority.

  “Drop it, Ben. Right now!”

  Cursing, he flings the pack into the water. He crouches against the cliff, fear plain on his face. I recall he’s not a strong swimmer.

  “Hang onto me,” I order, grabbing his hand. “Don’t let go.”

  I drag him forward into the surf. The tide is unyielding. First, it sucks us out toward the ocean, only seconds later to shove us back toward the cliff.

  I do my best to stay upright, kicking off the rocks beneath my feet. I paddle with my free hand, gripping Ben’s hand in the other. Together, the two of us fight our way forward.

  Twenty-five yards.

  It’s the longest sprint of my life. Half running, half swimming through water, I hang onto my friend as the ocean tosses us back and forth like pieces of driftwood.

  “Let go of me,” Ben gasps, sputtering as a wave douses him in the face.

  “Not an option,” I grind out in response.

  A wave rushes toward us. I coil my legs in readiness. Right before the breaker hits us, I push off, dragging Ben after me.

  The water picks us up, hurling us toward the shore—

  —and right into the waiting arms of Eric and Reed.

  “We got you,” Eric yells, grabbing Ben by the neckline of his shirt.

  “Come on, Mama.” Reed wraps both arms around me, dragging me toward safety.

  Another wave hits us. The four of us tumble backward. A searing pain rips across my right hip as I’m sucked over a rock.

  Reed and I tumble free of the surf, rolling onto a rocky shoreline. A heartbeat later, Eric and Ben wash up beside us.

  Susan, Ash, and Caleb are all there. They help us to our feet.

  Half staggering, half running, we rush away from the water. I nearly sob with relief when my feet hit sand. Granted, it’s not the fine sand you find at a tropical beach. It’s a thick-grained sand made up of hundreds of tiny pebbles. But it’s still sand.

  As soon as there’s a hundred yards between us and the surf, we collapse in a heap. Wet, injured, and exhausted, we lay in a silent, gasping heap.

  And just when I think we’ve finally earned a reprieve, it starts to rain.

  55

  Inventory

  KATE

  Tiny black pebbles press into my cheek as the first raindrops hit me.

  My chest heaves. My body shivers with the cold. The arrival of the rain almost makes me sob. I swallow back the despair that presses at my gut. My people need me. I can’t let them know how scared and worried I am.

  And just because I can’t resist torturing my
self, I look at my watch arm. It reads twelve hours. It’s been twelve hours since the clock started ticking on Fort Ross.

  Even though we technically just traveled four miles closer to Alvarez and his people, I don’t feel any further along. In fact, knowing more miles of the Lost Coast lie before us makes me feel like crying all over again.

  Keep it together, I scold myself. Lives depend on you.

  Sometime during our frantic flight across the impassable zone, fog has boiled up. Sea spray and rain clouds turn the sky to dull gray.

  At least we’ll have daylight to travel the remainder of the Lost Coast. It’s the only positive thing I can find right now. It will have to be enough.

  I sit up, brushing sand off my soggy clothes. “Inventory.” My voice comes out as a croak. “Inventory.”

  “What?” Ash blinks up at me from where she’s sprawled on the sand. Even wet and covered with bits of seaweed from our near-death experience, she still looks like a CrossFit model.

  “Inventory,” I say again. “I need everyone’s inventory.”

  When everyone stares at me in confused silence, I realize I’ve slipped into running jargon.

  “I mean, I need everyone to take stock of their bodies and report. Ash, you first.”

  The list isn’t pretty. There isn’t a single one of us without some sort of wound.

  Ash has a bad scrape on one arm and a tender ankle.

  Susan’s ankle is already swollen from her fall on the rocks.

  The gash on Caleb’s thigh oozes blood.

  Eric has gashes on his face and hands.

  Reed took a header with a rock. Blood covers half his face.

  Ben’s clothes are ripped in several places, blood seeping through.

  I have a scrape on my right hip, the jagged, bloody skin showing through.

  It could be worse, I tell myself, ignoring the despair that threatens to suck me under. There are no broken bones. None of us got swept out to sea. We’re all alive.

  “Hey, look!” Caleb points. “One of the weapon packs!”

  Sure enough, one of the weapon packs has washed onto shore. Ben limps up to the edge of the surf to retrieve it.