Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4

by Picott, Camille

  I at last fumble open my front pocket. My hand closes around the grenade—

  “Freeze, motherfuckers.”

  One of Rosario’s women stops fifty feet away from us, pointing a shotgun in our direction. Flanking her are two more men, each of them also armed with shotguns.

  The woman smiles cruelly at us. Her dirty blond dreadlocks are held back by a handkerchief. She wears a shirt that reads There’s no cure for being a cunt.

  “I still have three rounds,” she calls. “One for each of you dickheads. Caesar? Timo?How many rounds do you guys have?”

  “Two,” says a man with a shaved head and a full beard.

  “I have three,” says the other man.

  “How about that?” The woman’s smile broadens. “There are three of you and eight unspent shotgun shells.” Hard eyes take us in. “All we need to do is aim in your general direction. Lay down your weapons and come with us, or die. You have until the count of three to make your decision. I really don’t give a fuck what you choose. One.”

  I grit my teeth, hand tightening around the grenade still in my front pocket. Fuck this shit. I’m ready to risk it all. Maybe I can get one of them before I’m taken down. If Ben can get the others—

  “Two.”

  “Stand down,” Ben barks. He throws his gun to the ground.

  His words stun me. The command in his voice makes my fingers loosen around the grenade.

  In a softer voice, Ben says, “You’ll never get the pin out before they gun you down, son. Stand down. Now.”

  I release the grenade and raise my hands in a sign of surrender.

  The woman’s face curls into a full, nasty smile. “That’s what I thought. Get on your knees, dickheads. You’re about to meet Mr. Rosario.”

  This statement is followed by laughter from the two lackeys. It sends a spear of dread down my spine. It makes me think that, right about now, I might be better off dead.

  29

  Reunion

  KATE

  Gunfire. Screaming.

  Hot dread fires in my veins. I break into a run, tearing through the cypress grove on the northwest side of the fort.

  “Kate,” Caleb hisses. “Kate, wait!”

  I ignore him. Panic mounts within me. Ben. Eric. Ash. Without a doubt, I know they’re caught up in whatever is going on. The trees are obscuring my view. I race through them.

  Before I realize what I’m doing, I find my gun gripped in both hands. I raise it, finger poised over the trigger.

  More gunfire. More screaming.

  Ben. Eric. Ash.

  What’s happening?

  I hear voices. Pounding feet.

  I drop behind a tree for cover. I widen my stance, putting one foot slightly behind the other for extra support. Just like Ben taught me. The gun balances in front of me, pointed in the direction of the noise.

  Caleb and Reed catch up to me. They take cover behind two trees of their own.

  We wait. Voices and footsteps hurtle toward us.

  The first person I see is a short woman in clothes that had probably once been tight on her. They now hang on her shoulders, revealing a thin frame. She can’t be much older than me.

  One look at her eyes tells me she’s terrified. She doesn’t have the look of Rosario’s people. Still, I’m not willing to risk my life—or the lives of my people—on an assumption.

  “Stop.” My voice cracks through the trees.

  The woman grinds to a halt, looking around with wide eyes. Another half dozen people rush into view, all of them right on her heels.

  “Stop right there,” I command.

  More people appear, almost a dozen in all. There are no children, only men and women between the ages of twenty and forty. A few of them are armed. They halt as they catch sight of me, Caleb, and Reed. All three of us have our weapons drawn.

  “Who are you?” I demand.

  A man with dark hair pushes to the front of the pack, both hands wrapped around the handle of a gun. My finger tenses on the trigger of my gun.

  The man gives me a hard look, showing no sign of backing down. He’s joined on either side by two women, both of whom are also armed.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” he says. “There are people after us. Let us through and we’ll be on our way.”

  My mouth falls open. I know that voice. I recognize it from months and months of speaking to him over the ham radio.

  What I don’t recognize is the authoritative young man who stands before me. Dark skin, handsome face, black stubble. By the way those around him look at him, it’s clear they turn to him for guidance.

  “Let us pass,” he says. “There’s no need for trouble.”

  “Alvarez.” His name falls from my lips. I step out from behind the tree, lowering my weapon. “Alvarez.” My voice shakes with emotion. “It’s me.”

  Our eyes meet. His mouth falls open. “Mama Bear,” he breathes. “You came.”

  A shot rings out. A person at the back of the cluster falls to the ground with a cry.

  Four people with guns burst into view. I immediately recognize them as Rosario’s people. The mismatched clothing, the unkempt hair, and the feral eyes are all a dead giveaway.

  “Down!” I shout, raising my gun.

  Alvarez and his people don’t have to be told twice. They throw themselves to the ground as Caleb, Reed, and I open fire.

  I was never a great shot, but I am decent at close range.

  Rosario’s people have handguns, but they don’t have the protection of a cypress. Their shots thunk into the trees as our guns crack through the clearing.

  I’ve killed people before. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, sick with the knowledge of what I did to Johnson and his people.

  I expect to feel the same cold dread I felt when I set the zombies loose on him and his people.

  It’s different this time. This time, all I feel is hot rage. These people tried to hurt me and Frederico. Since taking over the fort, who knows what ungodly things they’ve done to Alvarez and his people.

  I pull the trigger again, and again, and again. Rage pumps through my fingertips and propels each bullet from the chamber.

  In less than thirty seconds, it’s over. Silence fills the clearing. Rosario’s people lay dead. Ben would be proud.

  Somewhere nearby is more shouting and gunfire.

  Reed, Caleb, and I rush to the edge of the tree line for a better look, taking cover so we can’t be seen. The north side of Fort Ross comes into view. The gates are open. Scattered across the grassland are half a dozen bikes, all of them overturned or laying on their sides like dead animals. Dead people are scattered across the meadow—Rosario’s people, and people from Fort Ross.

  Six figures move in the direction of the fort. Two of them walk with their hands clasped behind their heads. A third person walks hunched over, clasping an arm against her chest.

  My lungs stop working. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. All I can do is stare at the figures of Ben, Eric, and Ash. The three of them are herded like cattle at gunpoint.

  I’m sucked back to that moment in Braggs when I thought for sure Ben was lost to me. Panic and despair rise up and threaten to suffocate me. The pain of losing Kyle hits me all over again.

  I fight against the darkness. It won’t help Ben. I have to be strong.

  I bury the remembered pain, throwing all my focus into the present. Ben isn’t dead. He hasn’t left me. I need to bring my A-game if I want to figure out a way to keep him alive.

  I wish I had a rifle. I’m too far away for my gun to be any use. I finger one of my grenades, studying the foremost of those harassing my friends.

  I get a good look at her. Dirty blond dreadlocks. A sneering profile.

  Jeanie. I’d recognize that bitch anywhere.

  That woman had captured me and Frederico and taken us to Mr. Rosario.

  And now she has Ben. Rage bubbles up.

  “Mama.” Reed nudges me with his elbow. “No grenade.”
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  “They have Ben,” I snap.

  “And Ash and Eric.” Caleb’s eyes are alight with fury.

  “It’s too far,” Reed says. “All you’ll do is alert them to our presence.”

  “They have Ben,” I repeat.

  Alvarez and his people creep through the trees, coming to stand near us in a scattered ring. From the protection of the trees, they watch my people being taken into the fort.

  “They don’t know about us,” Reed says. “We have to get Alvarez and his people away. We jeopardize their chances if we draw attention to ourselves.”

  I straighten. “Fuck that.”

  Reed’s brow furrows. “Mama?”

  “We can’t run,” I say. “Not now. That will only give Rosario a chance to circle the wagons. We need to strike now while she’s off-balance.”

  Alvarez regards me, mouth tight. “I don’t suppose you guys brought any weapons?”

  Caleb pulls two grenades from his running pack and hands them to the bony woman in baggy clothes. I can see from the look on his face that he’s as desperate to get to Ash as I am to get to Ben. He’ll do anything to get to her.

  “We brought weapons,” I say. “We have to attack, and we have to attack now. The element of surprise is still on our side.” I pass an extra Glock and spare cartridge to Alvarez. He takes the gun and ammo from me with a look of reverence, a grim smile stretching across his face.

  “We also have a semi and zombies,” I tell him. “You take your people and circle around to the south side of the fort with our grenades. When you see me coming from the north, I want you to blow the south wall. We’ll take them from two sides.”

  Alvarez stares at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “That’s insane. We can’t destroy the walls of the fort. We can’t bring zombies here.”

  “We can, and we will. We have to strike hard and fast.” I’ll rain holy hell down on Fort Ross to save Ben and the others. “The longer we wait, the more people are going to die.”

  Alvarez stares at me. I see the calculations whirling behind his dark eyes. Our attack will jeopardize the home he’s worked so hard to build.

  “You’ll lose the fort completely if you don’t do this,” I say softly.

  “We can’t bring zombies here,” Alvarez says. “We’ve worked hard to clear this area. We—”

  I shake my head, cutting him off. “Rosario has us out-gunned. A surprise attack won’t be enough on its own. The only thing that will tip the balance in our favor is the zombies. They’ll cause confusion and give us a chance to gain the upper hand.”

  “If you bring zombies to Fort Ross, innocent people will die,” says a man from Alvarez’s group.

  “What do you think will happen if we run and hide?” Caleb’s jaw ripples with tension. “Rosario will want retribution for what’s just happened. She won’t stop at killing our people. She’ll punish yours, too.”

  Alvarez’s eyes grow distant. In that split instant, I know he has someone back in the fort he cares for.

  “We have a secret weapon,” I say. “A way to control the zombies with alpha language. There isn’t time to fill you in on all the details. I need you to trust me, Alvarez.”

  “If you knew the shit we went through to get here, you’d know how badly we want to save your asses,” Reed adds.

  Alvarez’s black eyes settle on my face. In the last ten seconds, they’ve hardened with conviction. He nods at me. “Okay. We’ll follow your plan. My people have weapons stashed around the fort. This counter attack is sooner than they expected, but they’re ready to fight. There’s a small beach just north of here accessible by a trail. It’s hard to find if you don’t know it’s there. Rosario’s people haven’t found it yet. I keep a row boat stashed there. Steve, I need you to take our people around the cove and come up from the back. Will you do that?”

  “Yeah.” A lean, muscular man steps to the front of the crowd. “You can count on me.”

  Alvarez scans his people. “I need volunteers to go with Steve. You can leave if you want to. I won’t force anyone to stay and fight.”

  No one budges. His people are scared—who isn’t?—but I see resolve in their faces.

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Caleb swings off his pack and unzips it. “I have three more grenades and two extra guns. Who wants weapons?”

  Alvarez’s face flashes pride as his people crowd in. Reed and I join Caleb, handing out grenades and extra weapons. By the time I’m finished, all I have is my knife, zom bat, and Glock.

  I hang onto the gun for Ben. He’d want me to have it.

  Steve leads his group toward the cliffside beach where the boat is hidden. To my surprise, Alvarez stays behind.

  “I’m coming with you,” Alvarez says. “If I’m going to allow zombies into Fort Ross, I need to be the one to bring them here. We’re playing for keeps here, Mama Bear.”

  “I don’t intend to lose.” I look north, back toward Highway 1. “I hope you’re ready to run your ass off.”

  “You’re fucking crazy, do you know that?”

  “I’ve been told that once or twice.”

  Alvarez flashes me a grin. I see a trace of the young soldier I met at the beginning of the outbreak. My heart swells with affection.

  He wraps me in a bear hug. “Thanks for coming, Kate.”

  I hug him back. “We have to look out for each other. It’s the only way we’re going to survive.”

  Reed bounces on his toes, something he often does when he’s getting ready to run. “I’m ready to sow seeds of death and destruction,” he says cheerfully.

  Caleb cracks his knuckles, nostrils flaring as he stares in the direction of the fort. “I’m ready to blow some shit up.”

  “You’ll get a chance to do both,” I assure them. “But first, we have to get the semi. And the zombies.”

  We set out together, the four of us running hard. The cypress grove conceals us from anyone who might be watching from the fort.

  I’m coming, Ben. Just hold on until I get there.

  30

  Closer

  JESSICA

  Twenty-four hours.

  It’s only been twenty-four hours since Rosario has taken over Fort Ross. Twenty hours feels like twenty-four years when you’re living in hell.

  I’m alone at the moment, locked inside the dinky RV. The only company left to me are my thoughts, my dying ex-husband staked outside to a laundry pole, and the monsters who come to visit me.

  My body hurts in new and awful ways. I do my best to ignore it, grateful for my IUD. At least I won’t get pregnant. There’s no telling what else might happen to my body, but at least I won’t bring a child into this nightmare.

  I count them off on my fingers in the morning light.

  Crooked Dick. Homer Simpson. Shit Stain. Joe Dirt. Limp Dick. Chimney Sweep.

  Six. Six assholes and I’ve named every one. I stare at the memory of their faces on my closed eyelids, focusing on them. Forcing myself to remember the awful details.

  Focus on the prospect. That’s what Shaun used to say when he went calling on a new account. Focus on the prospect and visualize closing the sale. That’s what it’s all about. Visualizing the close.

  There was a reason Shaun made six figures at his job. The man could close any deal. Sometimes that meant getting shit faced and partying with a prospect until three in the morning. Sometimes that meant getting someone a pair of baseball tickets to a Giant’s game. Sometimes it meant patronizing a restaurant and leaving your calling card—for three years.

  Shaun was never one to be put off by rejection or obstacles. He was the closer.

  It’s time for me to take a page out of his book. It’s time for me to close. Fuck the obstacles. If Shaun could sell wine in a dry Kentucky county, I can figure out a way to obliterate each of the men who have come and gone from the RV.

  I already have the weapon. My tennis racket. My last gift from Shaun, enhanced with the gift from Alvarez. It’s just a matter of waitin
g for Alvarez to make his move. Then I intend to use my racket for maximum destruction.

  “Jessie.” My name slurs softly from my ex-husband’s mouth.

  I look in Shaun’s direction. It’s sickening that he’s still alive, suffering and dying slowly tied to the laundry pole. The morning sheds light on pallid skin slick with sweat. Flies have gathered on his body in a dark mass, writhing on the bloodstains on his shirt and pants. More encrust the wound on his shoulder. He’s too far away for me to see if there are any maggots in the open sores, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there are.

  He sees me watching him. “I don’t regret marrying you and having a family.” The words spill slowly from his mouth, thick like syrup. “I wouldn’t trade my memories of Claire and May for anything. The only thing I regret is ... is hurting you.”

  My mouth tightens. I look away, but I don’t close the window.

  “I’m so sorry, Jessie.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “I know. It never seems like enough.”

  “It isn’t.” Nothing he says can make up for what he did. Even if he says it when he’s dying on a laundry pole from a zombie bite.

  Gunfire rips through the air. I leap to my feet, heart racing. I sweep my gaze along all the open windows of the motorhome, searching for the source of the sound.

  The interior of the fort bursts into activity. Rosario’s people boil forth from buildings and motorhomes, every last one of them armed. Several of them herd a cluster of our people back into the Rotchev House, locking them inside. Bella is among them.

  For once, Steph isn’t with her. She left the fort at sunrise with Alvarez and the rest of the garden crew.

  More gunfire. This time, I discern its direction. North. Outside the fort. Someone is shooting outside the fort.

  Alvarez. Steph.

  They’re on the north side of the fort. That’s where the gardens are.

  Alvarez. Steph.

  I slam my hand into the back of the driver’s seat in fear and frustration.

  “What’s going on?” Shaun slurs.

  “Someone is shooting on the north side of the fort.”

  Shaun groans. “Alvarez.”