Undead Ultra (Book 3): Lost Coast

by Picott, Camille

  Carter fires up the engine and throws the car into drive. Ben finds himself flung forward. He sprawls on top of Caleb as Skip makes a hard left. Johnny squawks as he lands on top of Ben.

  “Ben, we need the details of the plan,” Kate says.

  “Four teams,” Ben barks, attempting to right himself as Carter hauls ass around Creekside and out into the parking lot. “Eric, you’re on sniper duty in the rec center. Jesus, you’re with Eric. You watch his back while he takes out the alphas. It’s imperative the alphas are taken down.

  “Caleb, Ash, and I lead three teams to plant the C-4 while the rest of you cover us. Kate and Reed, you’re with me.”

  Assigning Kate to his team is selfish, but he can’t protect her if she isn’t near. He might die today, but he’s going to do his damnedest to make sure she lives.

  “Susan and Johnny, you cover Ash,” he continues. “Jenna, you’re with Caleb. Caleb’s team takes out the east building. Ash’s team takes center. My team takes out the west building. Concentrate your explosives on the west side of the buildings. We bring them down and create a path that takes the zoms away from campus and down onto the freeway.”

  “What about me?” Carter asks.

  “You stay with the van,” Ben replies. “Keep it running and keep it away from the horde. If things go to shit, we fall back to Skip and try to outrun them.”

  The look Kate gives him is anguished. They both know that if they can’t divert the swarm, their chance of survival is slim to none. It’s slim to none now. The horde is too big, too all-encompassing. The noise of the van will bring them down like wildfire. Attempting to run with so many hundreds out there will be equally disastrous.

  They have one shot at this. They’ll make their stand at College Creek. They’ll either live, or die.

  As Carter hits a curb and sends the van into a state of airborne, Ben experiences a moment of calm. Even with Caleb’s ass currently in his ribcage, he has a clear view of Kate. Her eyes are fierce, her jaw set. She’s drenched in sweat and grime and looks like she’s ready to take on the entire swarm singlehandedly. It’s the most arresting sight he’s ever seen.

  If he dies today, he’ll carry the memory of her ferocity into the afterlife.

  20

  Stand

  KATE

  The van tears past the Depot, the only place on campus that sold beer before the apocalypse. Steely determination sweeps through me. I take a good look at my apocalypse family, giving myself ten seconds to focus on how much I care about each and every one of them.

  Carter. Jenna. Reed. Eric. Johnny. Jesus. Ash. Caleb. Ben. And Lila. These ten people are my reason for living.

  “Listen up.” I pitch my voice loud enough to fill the cramped interior. “We can do this. This isn’t the hardest or the scariest thing we’ve come up against. It’s just another obstacle to get past. When you see the swarm, just give them a big fuck you and blast them to hell. You got it?”

  “Fuck you, zombies!” Reed shouts.

  “Fuck the undead, Mamita!” Jesus adds.

  Within seconds, everyone is yelling and fist pounding the air. Jenna turns back and gives me a wild-eyed grin before adding her scream to the mix. Carter beats his fist on the steering wheel even as he swerves around several undead that lumber toward the car. Ben wears a wild grimace as he bellows fuck you at the top of his lungs.

  Carter whips the van around an abandoned car and skids to a halt outside College Creek.

  My chest seizes.

  We’re too late.

  The thought pings around my head as I gape out the window.

  Dozens of undead spill forth around the dorms, hands outstretched as they beeline for the humming engine of the minivan. It’s a beacon in their blindness.

  And they just keep coming. Leading them is one of the alphas, a teenage girl with dark hair and a Victoria’s Secret sweatshirt. Tight clumps of zombies cluster at the heels of the alpha.

  “Everyone out!” Carter cries. “I’ll lead them away.”

  There’s no time to argue. No time to debate. There is only time for action.

  In under sixty seconds, we’ve emptied out of the van. I fall into step beside Ben and Reed. Ben leads the way, charging toward the dorm buildings on the western-most side.

  He hugs a box of C-4 to his chest. The giant rocket launcher—which I’ve never fired—bounces against my back. It feels strange to have a knife and a screwdriver in either hand with an enormous gun on my back.

  Music blares, stinging my ears with its intensity. Carter blasts a loud rap song. Keens pepper the air. Every zombie stumbles toward him, white eyes reflecting the morning sun. I spot the teenage alpha with zombies frothing around her as she leads them toward Carter.

  Everything inside me screams to go back to Carter, to protect him. This basic motherly instinct beats at me. I ignore it, knowing the best way to protect Carter is to stick with the plan. Reed and I have to cover Ben and take out the western-most building.

  With one last look back in my son’s direction, I turn to my task.

  I run in a tight cluster with Ben and Reed. We dodge around a pack of zombies, bee-lining to our assigned building. With the music blaring from Skip, the zoms stumble past us without turning in our direction.

  Ben crouches in the lee of an abandoned dorm with a piece of C-4 in hand. He smacks it in place and races to the next section of wall.

  “Don’t you need wires or a detonator?” I leap forward to block two zombies that stray in his direction. My screwdriver takes one through the ear. Reed slams his knife in the skull of the second.

  “This shit will blow to high heaven when we shoot off the rocket launchers,” Ben replies. “We just need to plant it.”

  More and more zombies pour around the sides of the building. I can’t see Carter anymore, but music continues to pelt the air.

  “Mama,” Reed yells.

  I spin around as three zombies reach us. One reaches for Ben, jagged fingernails pricking his scalp.

  I tackle the thing to the ground. My screwdriver punches through his skull. I roll sideways as a second zombie swipes at me. It trips on the dead one and tumbles forward.

  Reed is there. He stabs the creature and shoves it aside. I spring to my feet, wiping blood from my face with the back of my hand.

  I freeze as a pack of five lumber by, following the sound of the rap music from Carter. I swallow my breath, struggling not to rasp. The zombies moan and growl, but continue past us without ever turning in our direction.

  Stealth, I realize. That’s our biggest asset. Our only asset. We have to move quietly enough to avoid their attention and let Carter’s distraction do the rest.

  In theory, this is a great idea. In practice, it’s difficult when there are so many zombies. More and more of them stagger into sight with each passing second.

  Reed and I dodge through the melee with one another, sticking close to Ben as he slaps another stick of explosive to the wall. Half a dozen zombies are dangerously close to us. I have to draw them away from Ben and give him more time.

  I scoop up a rock and hurl it as hard as I can at a first-floor dorm window. It cracks the glass, but doesn’t shatter it.

  Reed gives me a look of profound sympathy before hefting his own rock. His pitch shatters the glass.

  The cluster of zombies veers away from us, heading for the broken window. Reed and I attack them from behind, dropping them with our knives, zom bats, and screwdrivers.

  We rush back to Ben, putting our backs to him with our weapons raised as he works. Once finished with this area, we scurry across a breezeway to another part of the building. The crack of Eric’s rifle fills the air. I can only hope he’s successfully taking out the alphas.

  As we pass the breezeway, I hear the rattle of iron. I glance at the tall wrought iron gate that separates College Creek from the large athlestic field on the other side. Though many zombies have fallen during our target practice sessions, there are still a lot out there.

  Th
e rattle of the field gate draws the attention of another cluster of undead that fumble their way down the breezeway. They veer in the direction of the gate, moaning in response to the noise of their brethren on the other side. They reach the gate, latching onto the bars and rattling them. The wrought-iron fence begins to rocks in its cement foundation.

  As much as the scene worries me, at the moment it’s not a threat. What is an immediate concern is a zombie woman with two broken legs who claws her way in our direction. Reed dispatches her with a blow to the head.

  “Done,” Ben says, dropping his empty box of explosives and turning to us. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  We turn, the three of us shoulder-to-shoulder—only to stop dead in our tracks. Between us and the way out is a massive wall of undead. At their forefront, leading the pack straight toward us, is the teenage alpha zombie in the Victoria’s Secret sweatshirt.

  21

  No Way Out

  BEN

  “Run,” Ben says, turning to Kate and Reed. “I’ll blow the buildings.”

  “Fuck that. We’re not leaving you,” Kate replies. Without another word, she lifts the rocket launcher onto her shoulder, taking aim at the mass descending on them.

  Ben only has time to scream “No!” before she pulls the trigger.

  The force of the rocket launcher throws her flat against the ground. The rocket shoots out at a wild angle, making a curlicue through the air before striking.

  Her rocket flies into the flank of the undead closing in on us. The ground explodes, sending out a cloud of grit, smoke, and undead body parts.

  The explosion sets off the zombies. They stampede straight for the noise, falling and tripping in their haste to reach the sound. Not even the teenage alpha zombie can rein them in.

  A path opens up. Ben spins around to find Kate groaning on the ground. She rubs at the back of her head, her hand coming away sticky with fresh blood. The sight of it freezes his guts.

  “Come on, Mama.” Reed helps her up.

  Ben pulls the rocket launcher from around her shoulder. “I’ll take that,” he growls. “You’re going to bring a damn building down on us.”

  Kate’s eyes are glazed from her fall, but Ben notes the stiffening of her jaw. She might hurt like hell, but she’s still in this fight. Good.

  The three of them make their way away from the dorms in a tight cluster, heading for the opening created by Kate’s rocket. In the confusion, most of the zombies don’t notice them. They take out any who get too close with a knife through the ear or eye.

  A new explosion rocks the ground to the east. Following hard on the heels of the first explosion are three more in rapid succession. The dorm on the eastern-most edge of the cluster disintegrates in a reverse mushroom cloud.

  The force of the blast throws Ben sideways. He smacks straight into several zombies.

  A hand latches onto his arm. Another grabs his knee. Ben’s nostrils flare in rage and fear as he tries to twist away.

  Reed leaps into the fray, landing on the back of an undead just as it raises its mouth to bite down on Ben’s thigh. A whip-quick strike across the back of the neck severs the brain stem and drops the monster.

  Reed springs toward the next nearest zombie, executing the same lethal move. The kid is as fast with his knife as he is with his feet.

  Ben kicks the rest of the way free and clambers to his feet, searching for Kate.

  He finds her facing off against four undead, wielding her zombie club like a demon. Her face is painted in red blood, her eyes wild. He rushes toward her with Reed on his heels, the three of them dispatching the zombies

  He’s about to tell them both to get the hell out of there when another succession of explosions rips through the air. This time, it’s the centerline dorm. Ben barely has time to register the impending collapse before a wave of soot and smoke rushes over them.

  He reaches for Kate, throwing himself on top of her to shelter her from the blast. Reed dog piles in with them, the three of them going down.

  The spray of debris is like acid across his skin, cutting through his clothes. A piece of shrapnel embeds itself into his shoulder, hurting like a motherfucker. He wipes grit out of his eyes, searching the cloudy landscape. His ears ring and his eyes burn.

  Another building down. Another wall between the campus and the undead swarm.

  The last building is on the west side—his building. He has to take it down. The C-4 is all in place, but fuck, they’re too close to it.

  His searches through the debris for an opening, but there are none. It’s a seething mess of undead and rubble, and it’s only getting worse.

  How ironic. They might indeed save the campus if they manage to get this building down, but they might all die in the process.

  “Reed.” Kate’s voice comes out in a gasp. She helps the slender boy sit up. A huge gash mars his forehead, spilling blood down his face and soaking his clothes.

  “Get him out of here,” Ben says. “Take cover. We can’t wait any longer.”

  “What about you?” Her eyes are anguished as she looks to him.

  “Move it!” he barks.

  Kate loops her hands under Reed’s arm and helps him to the protective shelter of a large fountain. He waits just long enough to see them hunker down on the far side.

  Then he spins around, raises the rocket launcher, and fires.

  The first missile strikes the side of the farthest building. Ben reloads and fires a second time, then a third, and then a fourth.

  The backlash from the buildings is thunderous and absolute. A billowing wall of smoke and grit engulfs him, swallowing him whole.

  The world goes dark.

  22

  Improvise

  KATE

  The ringing in my ears is the only thing I hear. Something heavy sits on my back and shoulders. Reed’s body is slack underneath me.

  I attempt to open my eyes. My effort is rewarded by a blast of debris right in the face. I try to breathe, but all I get is a lungful of grit. Coughing bends me in half.

  I try again. Pushing my nose into the sleeve of my shirt, I suck for air. I’m rewarded with a meager lungful. I suck a second time, getting more oxygen.

  Bracing my knees against the hard stone beneath me, I shove. Something slides off my back with a sick wet sound. It’s a zombie body. The head and the right arm are both missing, the orifices oozing black blood all over me.

  Beneath me, Reed stirs. His eyes flutter open, then snap shut as he’s assaulted by the same grime that hit me.

  I crouch and press a hand to Reed’s cheek in a silent question. He nods, mouth moving in answer, but I still can’t hear. We help each other stand, holding onto one another. I wipe blood from the side of his eye. Or, I try to. All I manage to do is smear grit into the blood. Reed shakes his head back and forth, sending droplets of fresh red showering to the ground.

  Absolute destruction surrounds us. The College Creek dorms lie in enormous piles of rubble. Whether by sheer dumb luck or precise calculation under pressure, Ben managed to place the explosives in just the right place on our building. The dorms on the west tipped the right way, completely barricading any entrance into the campus on this side.

  I scrutinize the settling dust, alert for danger. Hands and feet move in the rubble. Only a few undead still stand nearby, moaning and turning in small circles of confusion. None are close enough to be an immediate threat.

  To the east, the rest of the buildings have fallen. And emerging from the gritty air is the remaining zombie pack. They’ve reassembled around the teenage alpha zom, at least a hundred strong. She and her pack miraculously survived the explosions and are once again pushing into the campus.

  The alpha clicks and keens a series of instructions. The pack spreads out on either side of her, sweeping straight for the heart of Humboldt University.

  Where is everyone? Ash? Jesus? Carter? Johnny? Eric? Ben? I don’t see anyone. I can’t see my fami
ly.

  I swallow against my dry, gritty throat. There has to be something I can do. Something to protect the campus. I don’t know who’s left alive, but hell if I’m going to roll over and let the swarm take Humboldt.

  The buzzing in my ears recedes, allowing a new sound to make its way to my ears. Music. I hear music.

  Carter.

  A robin’s egg blue Caravan charges through the ruined landscape, heading straight for us. Jenna hangs out the window, waving her arms at us. Carter leans over the wheel, eyes intent.

  Tears of joy leak from the side of my eyes. Carter. Jenna. Reed. Three of my kids are still alive.

  Movement in my periphery. Johnny staggers out from behind a pile of rubble. Ash, Jesus, and Eric are with him. Susan extracts herself from the bottom of a metal table that somehow survived the blasts.

  We all converge on the minivan as it slams to a halt.

  “Mom.” Carter leaps out of the car and crushes me in a bear hug. I throw my arms around him, using the moment to dry my tears on his shoulder and gather myself. We’re not out of the woods yet.

  “I took out three alphas,” Eric reports. “The fourth one had already moved past the library and was out of my line of sight when I got the rec center. I’m sorry, I couldn’t get her.”

  I give his shoulder a squeeze. “You did good, Eric.” Three was better than one or none. That still leaves us with the problem of the last alpha, though. The teenage alpha.

  I stare past the ruins, my eyes taking in the seething swarm that continues to boil onto the campus. If we stand here much longer, we’ll be blotted from the face of the earth.

  I have to do something.

  “Ben is missing.” Jenna scans the area, brow creased in worry.

  I refuse to believe Ben is dead. He’s too tough and too grumpy to die.

  “Go find Ben for me.” I kiss Carter’s cheek. Not giving myself a second to reconsider the half-baked plan taking shape in my brain, I shoulder past him and jump into the driver’s seat of Skip. It’s time to improvise.