Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4

by Picott, Camille

  The zombie crashes down on top of Ash.

  Ben and Caleb act fast, the two of them like a well-oiled machine. Caleb stabs the zombie in the face while Ben grabs it by the ankles and flings it over the edge. Ash shrieks, batting at the bits of flame that sprang up on her shoulder. Eric jumps in and smothers it with his backpack.

  “Are you okay?” Caleb grabs Ash by her good arm and turns her so he can inspect her shoulder.

  “Si.” Her voice is shaky as she bats at the burned fabric. Beneath it is red, blistered flesh.

  “Let me see.” Ben pulls out a small first aid kit. He cuts away the burned fabric, applies ointment to her wound, and wraps it with a clean bandage.

  As he works, another zombie pitches over the cliff. It’s twenty feet away, burning from head to toe. It plummets into the ocean below, hissing all the way down.

  “Um, guys? There’s more.” Reed raises a finger, pointing to the line of tottering bodies above us.

  There’s at least a dozen of them. As we watch, another two fall off the ledge, burning as they fall into the ocean.

  “Fuck me.” Ben glares up at the clifftop. “Zombie rain.”

  One by one, they continue to walk over the edge. Most of their falls are silent, accompanied only by the customary growling and snarling. They’re smashed to pieces on the rocks below, blood and body parts littering the shoreline. If I had any notions of trying to climb down, the pulverized zombies change my mind.

  Luckily, no others land on our tiny little slice of the world, though there isn’t one of us who doesn’t keep an eye toward the sky.

  There’s nothing to do except wait out the firestorm. Fire and ash rain down on us. Smoke pours over the side of the cliff in a gray-and-white tumble.

  We all cough. I pull my shirt up over my nose to block out the worst of it. The others do the same, a few of them pulling out bandanas.

  “Put water on the cloth you’re breathing through,” Ben says. He takes a drink out of his pack and spits the water out on his bandana.

  I squint my eyes in an effort to protect them from the smoke and ash. Of all the things I’ve encountered on a run, this is the first time I’ve come up against a wildfire.

  We huddle together, waiting out the firestorm. It feels like days. According to my watch, several hours have passed.

  We might die out here. Right here, on this ledge over the ocean with fire raging above us. I squeeze Ben’s hand and lean into him. He puts his arm around me and holds me tight, resting his forehead against the back of my neck.

  I regret not taking advantage of the big bed when I had the chance with him. I’d let my brain get in the way. I make a silent promise not to let that happen again. If I have the chance to be with him—even if it’s on some dirty floor in a cold shed—I’m not going to miss out.

  “Did you guys feel that?” Ash holds out both hands. “Is that rain?”

  I squint into the smoke. A second later, a cold sting hits the top of my head. Another few seconds pass. Three drops hit the narrow space between me and Ben.

  “God damn,” Ben exclaims. “We may survive after all.” He plants a kiss on my lips.

  I’m so relieved that I grab him around the neck and kiss him back, just because I can. Because we’re both alive.

  “Good thing we got chased by zombies and fire,” Reed remarks. “If not for near-death experiences, you two would never make out.”

  Good-natured laughter fills the air. I can’t help laughing myself as I squeeze Ben tight with both arms.

  The rain begins to fall in cold earnest. Thunder rolls through the sky, sending vibrations through the earth.

  Never in my life have I been so happy for rain. I turn my face skyward, letting the fat, cold drops hit my skin. A fork of lightning flashes above us.

  The wind picks up, whipping across our bodies. It isn’t long before we’re all shivering in the rain. I crane my neck, trying to gauge the severity of the fire above us.

  The heat of the flames is gone. The ash that falls is sodden. There’s still smoke, though most of it has turned into steam.

  We have to get off this ledge and find shelter, or we’re all going to be hypothermic. It would be nice to have a day where we’re not being yo-yoed between hypothermia and burning to death.

  I shield my eyes from the ash and study the cliff face. “Any of you expert rock climbers?”

  Five pairs of eyes turn in my direction. Everyone shakes their heads.

  “All right,” I mutter. “Looney Tunes escape plan it is.” I survey our group. “Caleb, Reed.” I gesture to the two young men. They’re the tallest among us. Reed is the lighter of the two, his build lean while Caleb is the stronger.

  “Caleb, you need to boost Reed up to the road. Reed, once you get to the top, you’re going to have pull us up, one by one.”

  They stare at me.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Caleb says.

  “Dead serious. Unless one of you knows someone who can pick us up in a helicopter, that’s the only way any of us is getting off this ledge.”

  “I can always count on a big dose of crazy with you.” Ben slaps me on the shoulder. To the rest, he barks, “What you waiting for? You heard the woman. Let’s get the fuck off this ledge.”

  23

  Wet Run

  ERIC

  Sooty, scraped, and exhausted, the six of us soon find ourselves back on Highway 1.

  The beams of our headlamps reveal road scarred with ash. All the grassland on the east side of the road has been reduced to scorched earth. The wildfire tore through everything in sight, turning the land black. A quarter mile down the road is an abandoned car that’s been reduced to a crispy shell. Farther down the road is the remains of a house that still flickers with flame.

  Smoke and steam trail into the sky amid the wet sky. Despite the chill that’s settled into my body, I feel nothing but whole-hearted love for the rain. I’d rather be cold and drenched than dead.

  “Now what?” Ben asks.

  “Now?” Kate wipes rainwater out of her eyes. “Now, we run. The town of Mendocino is only a few miles away. We can look for shelter and regroup once we get there.”

  We slog down the road at a steady lope. Grit and ash rush down the road as rain sloughs down. Water splashes up with every step I take. I’m forced to shorten the angle of my headlamp to better see the road directly in front of me through the rain. The hat I picked up in Braggs keeps my glasses from being a smeary mess.

  Zombie corpses are everywhere. Huge piles of them litter the road in charred heaps.

  “That’s an efficient way to get rid of zoms,” Ben says as we veer around a pile of bodies.

  “Yeah, if you’re not worried about burning your town down,” Reed replies.

  The rain is miserable. I narrow my focus to the road, concentrating on each step. One foot in front of the next. It’s the only thing I can do. It’s what Kate taught me to do.

  My fingers are the first things to go numb, followed shortly by my toes, then both of my feet. Black water splashes up from the road with every step, soaking me all the way up to my waist. The windbreaker I’d donned in Braggs is plastered to my body.

  Lila never would have made it out here.

  I hate the thought as soon as it forms. Yes, Lila didn’t handle the apocalypse well. Yes, at one point it got so bad she refused to leave Creekside. Yes, there were days when she wouldn’t even leave our dorm room.

  I wrote her off. I hate myself for that. In my mind, I never saw her surviving more than a year. Two, tops.

  Sometimes, it feels like she’s still here. Her almond eyes—always alive with fear—follow me around like hunting hounds.

  It had been like that when she was alive. Looking at her was like staring fear in the face.

  The only exception was when she argued with me. Whenever we bickered, she didn’t look afraid. That was part of the reason why I liked riling her up. It was also fun to banter with her, but mostly I liked seeing her not afraid.
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br />   Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. I focus on the essential rhythm of moving forward.

  The road seems to stretch on, and on, and on. It doesn’t help that rain clouds have blotted out all the stars. If not for our six headlamps, we’d be in complete darkness.

  I think about Fort Ross, about the people counting on us. I might be wet, cold, and tired, but at least I’m not being held at gunpoint. I have it easy in comparison. What’s a little physical discomfort in comparison to the hell they’re probably enduring right now?

  A green road sign leaps out of the darkness, the reflective letters catching the headlight beams.

  Mendocino. Population 1,008.

  A large house comes into view. It looks like it may have been a bed and breakfast, gauging by the burned sign in front of the two-story gingerbread house. Though the building wasn’t completely destroyed by the fire, it doesn’t look entirely stable, either.

  “Stay alert,” Kate calls. “Be on the lookout for anything that looks safe enough to give us some shelter.”

  The downpour coats my skin with an icy overcoat. My fingers shake with cold. Only running keeps me from succumbing to the chill completely.

  My friends don’t look any better. They’re all as numb and exhausted as I am.

  Then I see another green road sign. Even through the rain slurring my glasses, it’s impossible to miss.

  Fort Ross. 75 miles.

  I stop dead, staring at the sign. Everyone halts in the middle of the road, all of us taking in the enormity of that green sign.

  Seventy-five miles. I swallow. We’ve probably already gone over forty on foot.

  Do we have another seventy-five miles in us?

  The doubt feels like a betrayal of Kate and everything she’s done for us. I know better than to let that kind of thinking sneak in. Kate warned us about it many times.

  Ultras are finished with the mind, not the body. How many times has Kate said that to us? More times than I can count. If she says we can run another seventy-five miles, that’s what we’ll do.

  “Look.” Kate raises a hand, pointing through the damp. She adjusts her headlamp, sending the beam out into the darkness. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s get out of the rain and regroup.”

  It takes me a minute to see what she’s talking about. I’m looking for a building or a house of some sort, but I don’t see any.

  Then I spot it. In a roadside turnout is a big blue semi-truck with orange flames on the side. The trailer is scorched black from the wildfire, but the cab is miraculously intact. Not only will it get us out of the rain, it will keep us safe from any stray zombies that might be around.

  I pick up the pace, angling toward the semi.

  Ben is the first of us to reach it. The side of the driver’s door is painted with the words Wild Thing. The edges of the letters are highlighted with flames.

  He has a knife out when he opens the door. A zombie in a bloody flannel tumbles out, snarling and raking the air with stubby hands. Ben makes short work of it with a knife through its nose. When no other zombies emerge, we clamber inside.

  The stench of rot is strong inside the semi, but we’re all used to it by now. There’s a small bed in the back of the truck cab. I pile onto it with Reed, Caleb, and Ash. Ben and Kate take the front seats.

  The first thing I do is take off my shoes and turn them upside down. A stream of water runs out of them. I root around in my running pack. The extra pair of socks I packed are also wet. Oh, well. Not that I really had a chance at having dry feet with that rainstorm outside. At least it’s not drumming down on my head anymore.

  I peel off my shirt, attempting to wring out the damp. I glance up to see Ben and Kate staring at each other. He’s in the sweatpants he picked up in Braggs; she’s in a sports bra and stretchy black pants. Both are shivering like the rest of us. From the looks on both their faces, the gap between the two front seats may as well be the English Channel.

  “I forgot my Dating for Dummies handbook back at Creekside,” Reed says, twisting his shirt between both hands. “But I read that thing cover to cover five times and I know for a fact that on page one-hundred sixty-seven, it says you can hold your woman when you’re both half naked and shivering. It’s totally legit. Even with all of us around.”

  Ben flushes and grumbles a string of curse words. Kate wrinkles her nose with embarrassment before sidling out of the driver’s seat and into Ben’s lap.

  These two might be the oldest among us, and they might be apocalypse badasses, but they’re worse than teenage virgins. If not for that bear, I’m not sure they’d have ever gotten together.

  Kate lets out of small sigh of contentment as Ben’s arms wrap around her. In spite of everything, she looks happy. Seeing them together makes me remember how much I miss Lila.

  “Here’s some towels and dry clothes.” Ash pulls out a handful of dry cloth from an overhead compartment.

  I grab one of the T-shirts, glad for a chance to dry my skin.

  Now what? The unspoken question rests on the tip of my tongue. Do we take a short breather then resume our run through the rain?

  Fort Ross. 75 miles.

  Up until this point, I’ve embraced the running. It hasn’t always been fun and it sure as shit isn’t easy, but there’s a quiet satisfaction in knowing I can make it.

  For the first time, I find my confidence wavering.

  Suck it up, loser. That’s what Lila would say. Don’t be a weanie.

  Tom wouldn’t roll over and throw in the towel, that’s for sure. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m cut from the same cloth as my big brother. He wouldn’t give up. Neither will I. Lives depend on us. If I have to drag my sorry ass another seventy-five miles, that’s what I’m going to do.

  I dry my glasses and return them to my face. That’s when I spot the CB radio.

  A jolt goes through my body. Leaving my sodden clothes in a pile on the floor, I shoulder my way into the front. Ben frowns as I wedge myself between the front seats. I’m too excited to explain.

  I snatch the CB microphone, my thumb pressing the switch on the side. My other hand reaches out to spin the dial on the display.

  “Dude.” Reed has seen what I’m doing. He leans forward, his body filling the tiny egress between the front and back part of the semi.

  “If we can get it working, we may be able to talk to Creekside.” Just saying those words sends a bolt of excitement through me. “If we can contact Carter and the others, they might have an update on Fort Ross. They may even be able to get a message to Alvarez and let him know we’re coming. Ben, did you check that zombie truck driver for keys?”

  “Do I look like an amateur?” Ben pulls a set of keys from his pocket.

  “Wait.” Kate grabs the keys out of his hand. “That could bring zombies. Semis aren’t exactly quiet.”

  “I think most of the zombies were burned up in the fire,” I reply. “You saw the big piles of them on the road while we were running.”

  She hesitates, glancing out the dark window.

  “I think it’s worth the risk,” I say. “Any information we can get could help us.”

  “The kid has a point,” Ben says.

  Still, Kate hesitates. “It’s not just zombies we could attract.”

  That sobers everyone. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I for one am thinking of Mr. Rosario. If any of her people are out here, firing up the semi would be equivalent to shooting off a flare gun.

  But that seems like a small risk. Fort Ross is seventy-five miles away. Presumably all of Rosario’s people are there. The likelihood of any of them being around here is slim. The chances of reaching Creekside are high if I can get the semi to fire up.

  “Okay.” Kate nods. “We’ll try it. Ben and Ash, you two take up a position on the north side of the truck. Caleb and Reed, you take the south. Protect this truck.”

  Wordlessly, everyone pulls on wet shoes before climbing out of the truck.

  Ben passes out Glocks
to everyone. “Just in case,” he says. “Knives and zom bats are the first line of defense, but don’t hesitate to use the Glocks if shit goes south.”

  Kate gives a tight-lipped nod of approval. She dislike guns almost as much as she disapproves of engines. But if you’re going to use one, might as well use the other.

  The rain is still dumping as Ben, Ash, Reed, and Caleb exit the truck.

  Reed flips me a good-natured middle finger. “Next time, I get to mess with the radio.”

  As soon as the door closes, I count to one hundred, giving everyone a chance to get into position around the truck. Then I slide the keys into the ignition.

  I step on the break and turn the key. To my delight, the engine groans and turns over—then promptly dies.

  I turn the key again and pump the brake. Again the engine protests, snorting and murmuring like a sleepy teenager.

  “Come on, boy,” I murmur, turning the key a third time. “You can do it. Come on. Lives are depending on you, man.”

  The engine snorts and roars to life. Blue lights flare to life across the console.

  “Yes!” I slap the dashboard, grinning. “That a boy!”

  Kate doesn’t share my elation. She’s too busy staring off into the dark after Ben.

  I remember her reaction when he almost died saving my sorry ass. Having lost Lila, I understand her terror and anger.

  I want to apologize to her for nearly getting Ben killed. But when I open my mouth and speak, unexpected words tumble forth. “I don’t regret loving her.”

  Kate’s head whips in my direction. She doesn’t play dumb, but just looks at me. The fear is plain in her eyes.

  “It hurts like a motherfucker, but I don’t regret it. Not for a second.” Lila was, hands down, the most amazing girl I ever met.

  A shudder goes through Kate. “I already lost one love in my life. If anything happens to Ben, it will break me.”

  My throat tightens with emotion. “I’d do it all again, Kate. I’d take the pain all over again just to have one more day with her.” Tears press against the back of my eyes, but I hold them back.

  Kate looks away, but her hand reaches out and squeezes mine. “Thanks, Eric.”