“You plan on using that shotgun?” I yell back.
“It’s just for protection against the chasers. Wasn’t sure if there was any close by or not. You can’t be too careful.” He moves his head in such a way that I think he’s trying to locate where I am.
“How ’bout you toss that bad boy to the side and maybe we’ll continue our conversation,” I suggest.
“Sure thing.” He tosses the shotgun to the side while keeping his hands high in the air. He still doesn’t know where I am, his head searching every window in the front. I figure he’s probably thinking he’s dealing with a grown man instead of a kid and his dog.
I ask, “What do you want?”
He looks about in no particular direction. “I noticed the smoke and thought there might be people here.”
“And?”
“And I thought if there was, maybe they’d be kind enough to let me join them. Power in numbers, right?” he responds.
Yeah, right.
“You alone?”
He gets silent. I can’t tell if he’s going to try something or what. “Yes.”
“What do you think, boy?” I say.
Duke groans and moans. His ears fold down on top of his mangy coat. He scratches at the door playfully.
He’s getting soft.
“We could use that truck. Seems to run and all. Could help us get to Mom and Cindy,” I say.
Duke barks and licks himself. I’m never too sure what his signals mean, especially the licking himself part.
“All right, stay right there and keep those hands held high where we can see them. If he moves an inch, kill him,” I yell to the fictional people living here.
I head to the front door with the rifle in hand. Duke gets excited. He turns around in place and wags his tail as I grip the doorknob.
I glance down at Duke. “Now, don’t go out there and lick him or roll over like some weenie. Bear some teeth and growl. Show this stranger you’re one bad mother and that he better not try anything stupid, ok?”
Bark!
I rip open the door and Duke dashes out, making a beeline for the stranger. He growls and barks but only for a minute. He stops at the man’s feet and rolls over onto his side, then his back, exposing his privates to him.
“Really?” I mutter in disgust.
“Keep them high, friend,” I yell. I step out onto the porch.
The man looks in my direction with his long matted black hair still covering a good portion of his face. He doesn’t say a word, but his head follows me as I make for his shotgun.
“I hope you know I mean you no harm,” the man says flatly.
“Duke, come!” I snap, retrieving the gun and pointing both in the man’s direction. Duke gets off the ground and runs over to me. “A lot of people have told me that here lately, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t exactly drop my guns.”
“I understand.” He nods toward the house. “How many are in the house with you?”
“Enough to cut you in half if you try anything stupid.” I step slowly and cautiously over to his truck. I peer inside the dingy cab. It’s empty except for trash and a box of shotgun shells strewn across the bench seat.
“Is the truck in decent shape? You were riding it pretty hard over that hill.”
“Yeah. It starts and gets me around. Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass. The radiator can be a bit temperamental, but hasn’t let me down yet.”
I nod my head, my mind working overtime. So many different thoughts and scenarios of what I’m about to ask play through my mind. I’m hopeful he’ll oblige and do as I ask. Either way, it’s going to happen.
“How do you feel about going to Portland?”
Dead State: Survival Road – Coming 05-16-2019.
CHAPTER ONE
If Dad could see me now, what would he think? Would he be proud of my resolve, and how I’ve handled myself since the virus ripped him away from my family? Forced my hand to do the unthinkable.
To be perfectly honest, I don’t really know. He taught me to be strong. To be resilient. Sometimes, doing the right thing is hard.
I always thought he’d be around forever. Guess life had other plans.
The burly man before me shifts his eyes down to his shotgun which is clutched in my left hand. He remains still, though. Motionless. He’s getting antsy, though, from the slight twitch of his fingers and shifting of his weight. He tries to maintain his collected demeanor, but his fingers twitch. Lips purse together as he subtly shifts his weight from his left to his right leg. I double down, and hold the rifle firm in his direction. No head shots, just center mass placement for the living. Placing a bullet in the brains of the infected is really the only sure-fire way I have found to take them down quickly.
Duke, my faithful dog and companion in this nightmare, stays by my side—obedient, for now.
The man points at me. “Listen, kid, I’m not going to hurt you. I’d feel a bit more open to talk, though, if you pointed that rifle away from me. I’d hate for you to get excited, and accidently shoot me.”
Is it bad that I find his remark insulting? A sarcastic response tiptoes the edge of my tongue, but I hold my words.
“You’re not going to have to worry about that. I know how to handle a rifle.” My face remains stern, malevolent eyes locked with his. Life has taught me lessons that I never thought I would have to learn. Especially at this young of an age. But it has, and I fear the lesson is only beginning.
He glances back over his shoulder to his truck, then back to me. “I’m not sure why you want to go to Portland, but if you lower the weapon, we can talk about it.”
I’m hesitant to relinquish my advantage, but given the circumstances, and the lack of transportation options, I don’t have a choice.
I sling the shotgun over my shoulder, and train the rifle away from him. My finger remains over the trigger, ready to fire if need be.
“Just to let you know, I have no problem killing you if you try something. So, I’d keep that in mind,” I say.
He cuts his eyes to the cabin. No doubt in search of the other armed men that I told him were positioned at the windows. A little white lie to keep him from trying anything stupid.
He nods, and slowly lowers his arms down to his side. “Fair enough. You mind telling the others to lower their weapons as well?”
I briefly glance at the cabin.
“There’s no one else in there. It’s just us.”
The man cranes his neck, and narrows his eyes past me. Guess he felt I was being deceitful. “Well played.”
Duke groans. His back-leg springs up, and his paw digs into his dense, yellow fur. He works his way up his back to the side of his head.
The man points toward Duke. “I had a dog similar to him way back when. They can be headstrong, but great companions.”
My eyes cut down to Duke, who ceases his vigorous scratching. He glances up to me and licks around his snout. “Yeah. He can be a pain in the butt for sure, but he’s my pain in the butt.”
The man takes a single cautious step toward us. He extends his hand out. “My name is Lucas, by the way.”
Cautiously, I reciprocate the gesture. “James. This is Duke.”
Lucas trains his attention on Duke, who remains alert, with his ears on end, but doesn’t bear his teeth or crouch down. “May I?”
“Yeah. He doesn’t seem to think you’re a threat. After all, he did run up to you and roll over onto his back. Not exactly intimidating when they flash their junk at you.”
Lucas takes a few steps toward Duke and bends down. He extends his arm out slowly, gauging Duke’s temperament. A low, muffled growl emits from Duke, but only briefly. Lucas pauses. His fingers gently move in front of Duke’s face.
Duke’s nose tests Lucas’ scent. He licks the ends of Lucas’ dingy fingers. Duke leans forward, allowing Lucas’ palm to stroke the back of his head.
I scoff under my breath. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re going soft there, boy.”<
br />
Duke’s ears stand on end and twitch. He gets up to all fours, and trains his attention to the woods to our right. No growling, but just a rigid, concentrated stance.
“Something wrong?” Lucas shoots up and follows his gaze.
“Probably just an animal. Generally, if there are chasers close by, he’ll get into more of a defensive position.” I lean the rifle against my shoulder, and place the side of my right hand just above my brow. I skim over the tree line, trying to penetrate the dense green and brown foliage.
Befuddled, Lucas cuts his gaze over to me. “Chasers?”
“Yeah. That’s what they’re called. At least, that is what I heard them called on the news back when all this first started. Seems fitting since they chase after you.”
Duke bolts toward the trees. His pace hastens. He closes the distance to the tree line fast.
“Guess he found something worth investigating,” Lucas mentions.
“Appears so.” I don’t give a second thought to Duke running into the unknown. He’s a smart dog.
Besides, since this nightmare began, I’ve had to change my view on things. More has happened to me in the last month than in my entire life. People I have loved were taken from me. Friends, new and old, are now just a thought that I carry with me. I’m not the scared, timid little boy that I was.
This event, whatever it is, has forced me to evolve. Forced me to harden my feelings, and not allow the sadness to cripple me.
Lucas focuses his attention back to me. “So, what’s in Portland?”
“Family.”
Author Notes
Written March 15, 2019
I have to admit, I love the post-apocalyptic genre. It’s one of my favorites out there. I also like military science fiction, horror, vampires, and the list goes on and on. My love, though, for the end of the world type stories remains my favorite. Probably why each time I start deciding on what series I’m going to write next, I always drift back towards this setting.
Afterall, what’s not to love? A cataclysmic event that pushes normal everyday people to the brink of doing what is needed to just survive. Whether it be by a volcano erupting, an emp pulse that sends us back to the stone age, or, my favorite, the dead rising to feast on the flesh of the living. There are many ways of approaching each, and bringing a different spin to the way the story is told is always exciting.
I’ve had numerous influences on my writing. From amazing authors of the past to movies that really inspired me to push my idea’s and imagination in uncharted waters. That is part of the fun with being in this line of work. Being able to tell a story that grips the reader and won’t let them go. To be honest, the stories I write are the ones that sink their fangs into me and won’t let me go until I tell their tale. When it hits me, it generally hits me hard.
I have many more stories that I so want to create in a world that is plagued by some earth-shattering event. There are a few that I have currently in the works, and some that are in the early stages of being flesh out and looked over. Who knows, it may involve that emp blast or a nuclear bomb sending us into a doomed future.
Either way, I hope you enjoy the tales of people fighting through the decimation with the hopes of a brighter future. Until next time, stay prepared and ready for the end. You never know when it may actually happen.
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Dead State Series
Catalyst (Prequel) (Coming 06-13-2019)
Fallout
Survival Road (Coming 05-16-2019)
Executioner (Coming 07-11-2019)
Immune (Coming Soon)
Evolved (Coming Soon)
Survive the End Series
Survive the End
The Huntress Bane
Lycan Rising (Coming Soon)
Afflicted Series
Genesis
Patient Zero
RipTide
Dead Reckoning
Afflicted Series Boxset (Books 0-1)
Afflicted Series Boxset (Books 2-3)
Ballistic Mech Series
Division
Inferno
Extinction
Payback
Also by Derek Shupert
Sentry Squad
About the Author
Derek Shupert is an emerging Science Fiction Author known for his captivating dystopian storylines and post-apocalyptic-laden plots. With various books and anthologies underway, he is also the author of the Afflicted series and Sentry Squad.
Outside of the fantastical world of sci-fi, Derek serves as the Vice President at Woodforest National Bank. During his free time, he enjoys reading, exercising, and watching apocalyptic movies and TV shows like Mad Max and The Walking Dead. Above all, he is a family man who cherishes nothing more than quality time spent with his loved ones.
To find out more about Derek Shupert and his forthcoming publications, visit his official website at www.derekshupert.com.
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