Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4

by Picott, Camille

  “I left them a note. They’ll try to talk me into staying if I tell them in person.”

  Ben studies her. “You’re looking for a fresh start. A place away from the memories here.”

  Bella nods.

  I recall her friendship over the ham radio with Johnny. Maybe she has a future in Creekside. I can’t deny it to her if it’s really what she wants.

  “You’re welcome in Creekside,” I tell her. “But are you sure this is what you want? It could be a permanent decision, Bella. It’s not like we can just hop in the car and drive you back here if you change your mind.”

  Bella doesn’t hesitate. “I’m sure. I love Jessica and Alvarez, but I need to start over.”

  I look one more time down Highway 1. Reed has completely disappeared from sight. It makes my heart heavy.

  I let out a long sigh. Ben is right. I need to let him go. I can only hope his journey into grief isn’t as dark as mine had been. Regardless, I have to let him have his journey.

  Just as I need to let Bella have hers. “Welcome to the Creekside Crew,” I tell her.

  44

  Neighbors

  KATE

  A day later, the town of Westport comes into view. In the time that has passed since we were last here, the wood and corrugated metal wall has more than doubled in size. They’ve even installed an impressive gate made of the same material.

  The cages with Rosario’s dead still hang from the telephone poles at the entrance to the town. They don’t even bother me anymore. After all that Rosario and her people did, I wouldn’t care if the lot of them were strung up in cages.

  We jog in a tight cluster up Highway 101. The sun is out. A cool breeze slides in from the ocean, chilling my lips, the top of my nose, and my fingertips.

  We’ve been on foot ever since we crossed through the town of Braggs a second time. Our pace is a moderate, easy lope. Every ten minutes, I give the group a walking break. Mostly for Bella’s benefit, but in truth, we’re all still exhausted and beat-up from our ordeal. Bella’s cheeks are ruddy with the effort. I can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s determined not to complain. She’ll be a good addition to Creekside.

  “You ran your first half marathon today,” I tell Bella.

  She blinks at me in surprise. “Really?”

  “It’s fifteen miles from Braggs to Westport. A half marathon is thirteen-point-one miles.”

  “You logged a few more miles getting through Braggs,” Caleb adds. “You’re probably at twenty miles or so."

  A satisfied smile pulls at Bella’s lips. It doesn’t touch her eyes. Even so, it’s more expression than she’s shown in the last day with us.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Ben says. “You won’t be able to walk for a week.”

  I poke him in the arm. “Killjoy.”

  “Someone has to tell her the truth.” His voice is flat, but I see the twinkle in his eye. He’s messing with me.

  “He’s joking,” I tell Bella.

  “No, he isn’t. But it’s pretty cool to say you ran your first ultra.” Caleb grins up at the sky.

  The friendly banter makes me miss Reed and Eric more than ever. The two of them would be in the thick of this conversation.

  I try not to think too hard about where Reed might be right now and what dangers he might be facing. He made his choice. There’s nothing I can do. I can only hope he’ll come back to us one day.

  As for Eric ...

  My heart tightens. I breathe through the sadness.

  “Just be glad you didn’t have to fight a bear.” Ash gives Ben a sly wink. “That’s what the old man had to do on his first ultra.”

  “Your hypothermia was pretty shitty,” Ben replies. “I’d take an angry bear over that any day.”

  Bella soaks in our words without comment. All her focus appears to be in putting one foot in front of the other.

  Smart girl.

  Distant shouting from Westport draws my attention. A figure slips out from behind the new gate.

  “Kate!” Susan waves her arm in the air as she races down the blacktop in our direction. “Kate!”

  A grin splits my face. I pick up the pace, racing toward Susan. We collide in a hug, grabbing onto one another like our lives depend on it.

  “I knew you’d be back.” Susan dabs at tears that run down her cheeks. “No one believed me. But I knew Mama Bear would be back.”

  I lean back to study Susan. “Are you okay? Did John keep his promise?”

  Susan nods. “He’s not a bad guy.” She wrinkles her nose. “He’s kind of scary, but so are you.” She throws her arms around me for another hug. “God, I’m glad you’re back. I want to go home.”

  Home. I want to go home, too.

  “Well, well. I have to admit, I never thought I’d see any of you again.” Medieval John saunters down the road in our direction. Fanning out behind him are half a dozen armed men and women.

  “I told you she’d be back,” Susan says, hands on her hips.

  “Indeed, you did.”

  “We’re not that easy to kill,” I reply.

  John grins at me. “Apparently not. Did you kill Rosario?”

  “Yep.”

  “Everyone at Fort Ross is okay?” Susan asks. “They ...” Her voice trails off at the look on my face.

  “Eric didn’t make it,” I tell her. “Reed ... Reed decided not to come home. Fort Ross lost people, too.

  Grief flashes across Susan’s face. “Eric and Reed are gone?”

  I nod.

  “But Fort Ross is free of Rosario?”

  I nod again.

  “No one was gonna get out of that fight for free.” Medieval John slaps me on the shoulder. “You did good, Kate. This calls for a feast.”

  My mouth waters at the thought of food, but I’m careful not to let my eagerness show. “Are you offering a trade?”

  His smile is disarming. “Everything is a trade, Kate. But I’ll make this one easy for you. All I want in exchange is every gory detail of how that bitch died.”

  Susan leans over to whisper in my ear. “That’s a good trade. They just brought in a big haul from a root cellar in a nearby house. The people have enough canned fruits and tomato sauce to stock a small convenience store. They’re making spaghetti tonight.”

  John watches this exchange with a wry twist to his lips. “Loose lips sink ships, Susan.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Not when you have a ship captain on hand.”

  The last thing I want is a long, drawn-out affair in Westport. But I’d be an idiot to blow off a hearty meal. Besides, as eager as everyone is to get back to Creekside, we’re all hungry and tired.

  And so it is that I find myself sitting at a large table in an elementary school cafeteria, shoveling food into my mouth while my companions and I relate the story of Fort Ross.

  With us at the table are John and a handful of his scarier looking people. Most of them look like they could crush rocks with their bare hands. These were probably the people who helped him keep his pot business secure before the world went to hell.

  More people from Westport crowd around us, many of them standing while they eat, eager for the story. It’s nice to see that John welcomes them all.

  I wish Reed were here. He was the best storyteller among us. Ash, Ben, and Caleb do their best to help me as I recount the story, but none of us has Reed’s charisma.

  Bella doesn’t say a word during the whole ordeal. The young woman sits at the far end of the table, inhaling food like she hasn’t eaten in a week. I don’t miss the stiff way she moves, even while sitting. No doubt she hurts from head to toe after our journey here from Fort Ross.

  “Tell that one part again.” John waves a hand at me, dabbing sauce off his mustache.

  “Which one?”

  “The part about the woman with the tennis racket.”

  The audience cheers when I recount the way Jessica bashed in heads with her tennis racket. They hush with awe when I tell them why she killed with suc
h a vengeance. Bella seems to fold in on herself as I tell the story again. I make it a point to leave her out of it, even though she’d been the avenging angel’s sidekick.

  “Did you say she’s married to the leader of the fort?” John asks when I finish.

  “Basically.” I don’t want John thinking he might have a shot with Jessica. She’s with Alvarez.

  John sighs dramatically. “Too bad. She sounds like a fine woman.” He takes that moment to look me up a down. “There is a shortage of fine women out there.”

  Ben scoots close to me, giving John a pointed stare. “All the good ones are taken. Sucks to be you.”

  I elbow him in the ribs while John roars with laughter. Ben just glares and snugs an arm around my waist.

  “So.” John takes a sip of the clear liquid in a shot glass before him. Apparently, there’s moonshine production taking place in Westport. “What’s your next move, Mama Bear.”

  I put my fork down. I’ve been waiting for this. By the look on John’s face, so has he.

  No reason to beat around the bush. “We want to go home to Arcata. As quickly as possible. I want one of your boats.”

  John’s expression is that of a very satisfied cat who’s found himself a plump mouse. “You’d like one of my boats.”

  “Yes.” Without a boat, there’s no fast way back to Arcata. We’ll have to go miles and miles out of our way. Medieval John knows this.

  “I rather liked that cannabis salve you gave me on your last trip through here. I’d like the recipe.”

  “I’ve got something better.” I push my empty bowl aside, resting my elbows on the table.

  “What might that be?”

  The table has fallen quiet. The people of Westport lean forward, eagerly watching the open negotiation. The only one who appears uninterested in the whole affair is Ben, who helps himself to another generous portion of pasta.

  “I’ll give you alpha zom recordings.” During the entirety of my tale, I noticed John made no comment about them. That alone was enough for me to gauge his interest. He wants them.

  But he’s not about to come out and admit that. “That might be of interest.”

  God, he’s such a bullshitter. “I’ll give you all three of them, plus the next two commands my people uncover in the future.”

  “How do you know they’ll uncover more in the future?”

  It’s my turn to give him a flat stare. “You wouldn’t ask that if you knew the guys on the job.”

  “One of whom happens to be my husband,” Susan adds.

  “Trust me when I say they’ll uncover more commands. Do you have a ham radio?”

  “Not here. But I know of a few places where I might acquire one.”

  “We have a working one in Arcata. Dial us up when you get one and we’ll pass on the commands when we have them.”

  The alpha recordings could be the difference between life and death. It’s a good fucking deal. John knows it.

  But that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try and get more. “Let’s talk some more about the cannabis salve.”

  For some reason, this rankles. No fucking way will I give him Lila’s recipe. It feels too much like giving a piece away of her. I won’t do it. Besides, it could be a precious Creekside commodity in the future. I would be an idiot to give John everything of value in our first serious trade negotiation.

  “Let’s talk about the alpha recordings instead,” I reply. “Those are the only things on the table. We both know five of them are worth more than one boat, but that’s all I’m asking for.”

  “But you’re only giving me three. You don’t have the other two yet. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, you know.”

  He’s not going to make this easy. We spend the next fifteen minutes arguing the point. John keeps pushing for the salve. I keep refusing.

  Just when my temper starts to steam, Ben interrupts us.

  “I got something to sweeten the deal.” He pushes away his empty spaghetti bowl.

  Medieval John raises an eyebrow. “Something sweeter than a cannabis salve recipe?”

  “Yep.” Ben downs the shot of moonshine on the table in front of him. “It’s something you don’t know about Rosario.”

  “What’s that?

  “She’d died thinking Medieval John was the reason for her undoing.”

  The crowd had been silent up until now. Or at least, I thought it was silent. The moment Ben speaks, a hush falls over the entire cafeteria.

  John’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. “Did she, now?”

  “Yep. When she captured me and beat the shit out of me and tied me to a pole so that I could be eaten alive by zombies, I told her I was sent by Medieval John. She died without ever finding out it was complete bullshit.”

  “You told Rosario that I sent you to Fort Ross?”

  “Yep.” Ben helps himself to another shot of moonshine. No one stops him.

  “He did,” Ash confirms. “They beat the shit out of both of us when he told her that.” She rubs at the bruises still darkening her face.

  “Let’s say I believe you,” John says. “Why would you tell her that?”

  Ben gives John a flat stare. “I was hoping that if I gave her the answer she wanted to hear, she wouldn’t try to beat the answer out of us.” He shrugs. “She beat us anyway. Basically, I got the shit kicked out of me in your name. And Rosario died thinking you were her undoing. If that’s not worth a ride home, I don’t know what is.”

  Medieval John throws back his head and roars with laughter. He laughs so hard tears stream down his face. The tough guys at our table guffaw with him, slapping one another on the back as though they’ve all just heard the best joke of the century.

  I study Ben’s face, trying to discern if he’s bullshitting. One look in his eyes and I know he’s not.

  “My friends,” Medieval John says at last, “you got yourselves a deal. One boat in exchange for five alpha recordings and the the sweet, sweet knowledge that Rosario died thinking I was the one responsible for fucking up her grand plan.” He slams both fists on the table so hard, all the bowls and silverware rattle. “Damn, I like you guys. I foresee a hearty trade between our communities in the future. Now, tell me all the details. I want to know everything.”

  “Sure.” Ben pours himself another shot of moonshine. He downs it, pours himself one more, then launches into the story. There’s a flush to his cheeks and his eyes are bright.

  I can’t help but laugh as John makes him tell the story not once, not twice, but three times. Each telling is accompanied by another few shots, so that by the time Ben gets to the third re-telling the bottle on the table is empty. He doesn’t even slur. I guess my boyfriend can hold his liquor.

  His story becomes more lurid and detailed. He has everyone in the cafeteria hanging on his every word. They ooh and ahh and wince at all the right places. They cheer every time when he retells the part about Alvarez putting a bullet in Rosario’s head, skillfully driving home the point that she died thinking John had come to take the fort from her.

  Who knew Ben could spin a good story? I guess hidden talents come out when a person has moonshine. Lots of it. It’s practically a miracle drug.

  Under the table, Ben squeezes my knee. I give him a grateful smile and return the squeeze.

  We’ve done it. With his help, we’ve closed the deal with Medieval John.

  We’re finally going home.

  Epilogue

  Right Here, Right Now

  KATE

  “What are you doing?”

  Two days after our return to Creekside, I stand in the doorway to my dorm room watching Ben wrestle a second bed into the tiny space.

  He grunts, kicking aside a pair of shoes that are in his way. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “It looks like you’re moving a second bed into a room only designed to hold one bed.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “Is that what it looks like? I thought it looked like I’m moving in with yo
u.”

  I lean against the doorframe, refusing to help him. The leg of the second bed gets stuck in a pile of dirty clothes I left on the floor. Ben scowls in my direction as he levers the pile to one side with his foot.

  “You’re going to have to learn how to use a laundry basket.” He opens the closet, glowering as he comes face to face with the previous owner’s clothing. “And we’re getting rid of this guy’s clothes. The only man’s clothes that are going to be in this room will be mine.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  I suppress a smile. This playful side of Ben has been coming out more and more lately. I like it that he lets his guard down enough to banter with me. Caleb said it had something to do with him getting laid, but I pretended not to hear that.

  “Were you going to ask me about any of this before you decided to move in?” I ask.

  “I thought about it.” He gives the bed a shove, grunting in satisfaction as it slides into place.

  “You thought about it and ... what? Decided not to bother asking?”

  He slides around the bed and comes to stand in front of me. My blood heats as he looks down at me. He presses me up against the doorframe and kisses me until my knees are weak.

  “I decided I was moving in regardless of what you said.”

  I huff as he breaks away. He turns around to tackle the closet, yanking out armloads of things that belonged to the previous occupant.

  “I told you I wasn’t dropping this thing between us.” He flings out baggy jeans and T-shirts with pithy slogans on them. “This is me not dropping it.”

  I decide to quit pretending that I’m mad. I like that he’s making space for himself in my life. Even if that leaves us a mere eleven inches between the bed and the closet. Walkways are overrated anyway.

  “Hey, Ben.”

  “What?”

  “I’d take a bullet for you.”

  He extracts his head from the closet. His eyes crinkle around the edges as he gazes at me. “I’d take a bullet for you, too. Any day of the week, Kate. Don’t ever forget it.”

  He returns to his task of emptying the closet.