Ultimate Undead Collection: The Zombie Apocalypse Best Sellers Boxed Set (10 Books)

by Joe McKinney

  Dad was next.

  #

  Hungry, tired and cold, Jackson approached the school.

  More bodies.

  Something must be happening around here.

  What’s the attraction? Why this place? I need to rest and I need food. Think I’ll take a look around.

  #

  Skin dragged his father’s body through the creamy, barely recognisable remains of the music teacher. Using skipping ropes which he’d found alongside the weight training equipment, he lashed the corpse’s thrashing arms and legs to a wooden climbing frame bolted to the gym wall. His knots weren’t particularly good but Dad was weak and couldn’t escape.

  Just look at the state of you, he thought as he stared at what was left of his father. The thing squirmed on the wooden frame like it had been crucified. You used to tell me you were somebody I should look up to, and now look at you. You used to tell me that I should aspire to be like you, to do the things you did and to believe in the things that you believed in. Now look at you. A pathetic lump of rotting meat that’s about to be destroyed. Now you look at me. I took so much shit from you because of how I dressed, what I did and who I did it with. And why? What was so good about doing things your way? What made your values any better than mine? If you were so fucking clever, why aren’t you the one who’s stood here now? If I was so got it so wrong, how come I’m in control?

  Skin had edged closer and closer so that he was now just inches away from his dead father’s face. He stared deep into the corpse’s cold, black eyes and he hoped, bizarrely, to see a flicker of recognition or emotion. He wanted his father to know what was happening. He wanted him to see and feel everything he was about to do to him. He wanted him to understand and to be able to admit that Skin was right and he’d been wrong.

  Nothing.

  Stupid fucking thing.

  In a fit of temper Skin picked up a metal-framed chair and swung it at his father’s remains. Two of the chair’s metal legs scraped across the rotting flesh covering the creature’s abdomen and ripped it open, practically disembowelling it. Partially decomposed organs began to slip, slide and ooze from the open body cavity and dripped onto the floor under its thrashing feet.

  Skin dropped to his knees and watched as what was left of his dad began to slowly fall apart.

  #

  It must be somewhere around here. This is where the bodies are heading. Was this a school or a college or something?

  Jackson crept around the outskirts of the school campus. Something had definitely happened here. There were far too many bodies for it to just be coincidence. It couldn’t have been looters because there’d be nothing worth taking here. Most likely survivors had been using it for shelter. Interesting. He’d only come across a handful of other people in all the time he’d been travelling. He’d found evidence of them having been around and he’d come across their remains when the bodies had got to them before he had, but he’d seen very few actually managing to survive. He’d done his best to keep out of their way. The more of you there are, he’d decided, the more noise you’ll make and the more chance you’ll have of being caught and killed. Stay alone and stay alive was rapidly becoming his motto.

  A door nearby was open. Jackson went inside then stopped and listened carefully to the sounds echoing around the vast, stinking building. He heard the odd distant shuffle and crash of bodies but nothing too ominous. He decided to risk spending a little more time looking around.

  Whenever Jackson found a staircase in a place like this, he climbed it. Stairs give you an advantage over the dead, he’d long since decided. The bodies had trouble climbing (although they’d manage it if you gave them long enough and if they had enough of an incentive). Also, the higher you go, the better view you had of whatever’s going on around you.

  What Jackson saw from the top of this particular staircase confused him. There was a grassy courtyard in the middle of the campus directly below, and it was filled with bodies. In the dark, however, he couldn’t immediately see what was drawing them there. He’d come across huge gatherings before, some which had been caused by the most ridiculous of things: a squeaky hinge or rainwater dripping from a broken gutter, for example. Were these bodies trapped? He’d found large numbers of corpses which had managed to get themselves stuck, usually when there was only one way in and out, and those still coming in were preventing the rest from getting back out. He watched the crowd for a little while longer, trying to analyse their movements.

  Then he saw it.

  There were bodies trapped in a gym on the other side of the grass-covered quadrant. Perhaps the noise of them moving around in there was creating enough of a disturbance to keep the hundreds of surrounding corpses close. It was possible, but unlikely. Whatever the reason, he decided that was where he was going to make his attack. Just a very quick run in and out. Enough to cause a little damage and get a decent fire going. And once the building was properly alight he could concentrate on getting himself sorted out. He was starving. He hadn’t eaten for more than a day. There’d be shops nearby. The fire would distract the bodies and when enough of them had come here he’d go scavenging through the shadows they’d left behind.

  How to get close? The buildings surrounding the courtyard appeared to be connected. He decided he’d work his way around until he got as close as he could to the gym, then he’d cause a minor distraction and make a run for it. It wasn’t going to be easy but he’d done it before. He took his rucksack off his back and scrabbled around inside for the various items he’d need. A small plastic bottle of paraffin and a cigarette lighter. Simple.

  The best thing he’d found to use as a distraction was a well dried-out but still mobile body. If he could find one that had been trapped indoors for a decent length of time, that would be ideal. The bodies were always attracted to fire, and if he managed to set one of them alight, its movements would add to the confusion and dramatically increase the impact. Although the infection had originally struck before school had started for the day, he had no trouble finding a suitably emaciated cadaver. The young boy was scrambling around pathetically in the shadows of a second floor classroom. He grabbed the body by the scruff of its neck and carried it back down to ground level.

  There’s no room for sentimentality any longer, he thought as he held the body at arm’s length and doused it with paraffin. Whatever this thing used to be, its character, personality and every other attribute which made it a unique and individual human being died with it on that Tuesday morning, more than four weeks ago. This thing isn’t someone’s son, brother or friend anymore, it’s just a skin-sack, dead flesh and bone. I’ll be doing it a favour. Putting it out of its misery.

  Jackson checked that the door to the grass courtyard was open, then lit the body. He gave it a few seconds for the flames to really take hold before pushing it out into the night. Hordes of bodies immediately began moving towards him, attracted first by the sound of the opening door, then by the brilliant, dancing flames. He grabbed hold of one of the dead boy’s arms and dragged it over to the diagonally opposite corner of the courtyard near the entrance to the gym building, then left it. Bizarrely oblivious to the fact it was on fire, it staggered into the mass of corpses which silently converged on it.

  Jackson took a deep breath and moved again. He ran back to the door he’d just emerged from and waited, wanting to be sure the distraction had worked before he risked running further from safety and deeper into the bodies.

  Perfect. It was working like a dream. The entire mass of diseased flesh was ignoring him and moving towards the bright flames about fifty metres away. Several bodies were burning now. Stupid bloody things. Relaxing slightly, he crept along the wall towards the entrance to the gym. He tried the door but it wouldn’t open. Strange. He looked down at the handle and shook it. Bloody hell, it had been barred from the inside.

  #

  There wasn’t much left of Dad.

  Skin had punched and kicked and slashed and ripped and pulled and spat at
the remains of his father until very little remained hanging from the wooden climbing frame. There was almost as much rotten flesh on him as there was left on the corpse. Dad’s head, neck, shoulders, spine and right arm still hung from the wood, but that was all.

  If the destruction of the teacher’s body had been strangely therapeutic, then this was bliss. Using climbing ropes and feeling no remorse, Skin had flogged his father’s corpse. Half-drunk, stoned and completely out of control, he tore into the body mercilessly. Nothing else mattered. Years of pent up adolescent frustrations were released in the space of a few brief minutes of revenge. He forgot about the other bodies in the gym, and he was so transfixed by the disintegration of his dead father that he didn’t see the fires burning outside. Feeling invincible again, he returned his attention to Dawn. Once more he dragged her body over the barrier and out into the middle of the room. He grabbed her from behind (it felt good to do this in front of his father) and ran his hands over her flesh. Her skin felt alternately wet and curiously dry and brittle, but that didn’t matter. He gently caressed her still feminine shape as he decided how he would dismember her. In a state of semi-arousal and drink- and drug-fuelled euphoria, he didn’t hear the glass smash and the gym door being forced open.

  ‘What the hell are you doing, you sick bastard?’ Jackson shouted as he burst into the blood-soaked gym. He shone a torch at Skin who immediately let go of Dawn’s body and pushed it away, ashamed. Christ, Jackson thought, he’d seen some pretty unpleasant things over the last few weeks, but nothing like this… a stupid, fired-up teenager torturing and molesting the dead. He knew that he’d just done something pretty unpleasant to a dead school boy outside, but that had been different. There had been a reason for doing that, but what this kid was doing here was just sick… bordering on necrophilia. Twisted, evil and sick.

  Skin stood in front of his crucified father, dumbstruck, feeling like he had the day Dad had caught him wanking in his bedroom. Behind him, the body still twitched. Its head rolled from side to side.

  ‘I…’ he began to say, ‘I was just…’

  Jackson shone his torch around the blood-soaked room, unable to quite believe what he’d found. He glanced back over his shoulder as the bodies from outside began to pour into the building through the door he’d left hanging open. He’d only intended being inside for a matter of seconds. ‘What the hell have you been doing?’ he demanded. ‘Is there something wrong with you? I know what these things are and what they do, but this… this is wrong.’

  Skin wasn’t listening. How dare this man come into his world and start questioning his actions and decisions. Did he know who he was? Did he not realise how strong he was now? Did he know that upstairs he’d got guns and knives and that he’d killed massive numbers of corpses over the last few weeks? To Skin, Jackson represented everything he despised about the world before the apocalypse. He saw the authority he’d rebelled against and he saw the common-sense and rule-following that he detested. He couldn’t let it go on. This man was a threat to his new found independence and freedom. He had to make a stand or it would have all been for nothing. He grabbed the metal bar he’d used to bludgeon the music teacher and ran at him.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ Jackson yelled as the desperate, half-drunk teenager charged. Skin lifted the bar high, ready to strike. With twice his speed Jackson let rip with a single jab to his face, catching him square on the nose and sending him reeling back. He dropped the bar and it clattered loudly to the ground.

  Jackson looked around anxiously. By breaking into the building he’d opened it up to the bodies outside and they were now streaming inside in huge numbers.

  ‘Time to leave,’ he suggested to Skin who still sat in a heap on the floor, blood pouring down his face. ‘Unless you like this sort of thing, of course,’ he added. ‘Could have yourself a real party now, you sick little bastard.’

  Skin couldn’t move. Jackson reached out his hand to pull him up but he didn’t take it. He couldn’t speak. He felt crushed. He watched in silence as Jackson turned and shoulder-charged his way through the dead and back out into the night. There were still a couple of bodies burning nearby. That, coupled with the movement around the gym, was enough of a distraction to enable him to slip away into the darkness.

  What about the kid?

  Forget him. Stay alone and stay alive.

  #

  Skin slowly stood up and stared at what was left of his father. It stared back at him. He stood in the middle of the gym, drenched with blood, completely still and, for a time, ignored by the hundreds of bodies which were now inside.

  The room was filling up quickly.

  Skin was scared. He needed help. He looked around for Dawn but she’d gone, swallowed up by the faceless crowd. There must be someone who can help me, he thought? With tears of sadness and humiliation running down his face he walked deeper into the gym. He reached the barrier he’d built and looked over the mass of chairs and equipment. In the darkness he could see what remained of his friends and teachers. Over his shoulder an ever-growing mass of cadavers moved closer.

  Skin climbed over the barrier and collided with the body of Miss Charles. He had to look twice before he was sure it was her. He began to talk to her. Wiping blood and tears from his face he tried to apologise for what he’d done and how he’d behaved. But Miss Charles wasn’t listening. Along with the remaining seventeen bodies of his teachers and his friends, she tore him apart.

  #

  Jackson watched from a hillside overlooking the school as it burned. It was a dry night and the fire spread quickly. The whole bloody place was in flames now.

  Good.

  He lay on the grass for a while, watching as more bodies stumbled past him, heading towards the bright light in the distance, not even aware he was there. When enough of them have disappeared, he decided, I’ll go and get myself something to eat.

  DAY THIRTY-EIGHT

  ANNIE NELSON

  After I left the community centre, I came home. There didn’t seem to be much any point doing anything else. I had nowhere else to go. That was just over weeks ago, I think. I’m not exactly sure. It’s getting harder to keep track of the days.

  I never felt safe in that community centre. The people there used to talk about surviving, but none of them actually did anything about it. There were always people crying, arguing and fighting but no one did anything constructive. When I first got there I thought we might all bond together and make a go of things like we used to if there was a war or crisis, but we didn’t. Most people were too scared to even try. You see, everyone had lost someone. Everyone had their own problems that needed sorting out before they tried to help anyone else. Most of them couldn’t see the point of trying to pick up the pieces.

  I spent most of my time there with my friend Jessie. She said she couldn’t ever see things getting any better. I kept telling her they had to, and I said what was the point of thinking like that? No matter how bad things get, you always get yourself sorted out in the end, don’t you? It might be a struggle, but you’ll always manage it if you think positive and don’t give up. I should know. Sometimes my life’s felt like one long struggle, not that I’m complaining, of course. Poor old Jessie. She’d always had everything on a plate, and it never did her any good in the end. I lost her when those things got into the building. She tried to get away with the others, but she hadn’t got any fight left in her. Don’t suppose I’ll ever find out what happened to her now. I gave her my address. I keep hoping she’ll call.

  There were a few people in that community centre who were like ticking bombs, just waiting to go off. It was only a matter of time before what happened, happened. I’ve never been so frightened as when the fighting started and the doors opened. It was all I could do to keep out of the way. I curled myself into a ball and lay under a table as the room filled up with those horrible, dirty, stinking things from outside. I know that they used to be people and that I should have shown them some respect, but honestly, they were dis
gusting. They made me feel sick to the stomach. We all have to go someday, but I hope and pray that I don’t go like that. I just want to go to sleep one night and not wake up again.

  I looked out for Jessie when the building started filling up but she must have already gone. Most people were trying to get out through the back and she was probably dragged out with them. I hope she’s all right. I just kept my head low and waited for things to calm down again. I kept as still as I could and watched those horrible creatures as they walked around and around and around the room. My old bones were killing me but I knew I couldn’t risk moving. I couldn’t let them see me. It must have been the best part of a day before I finally saw a gap in the crowds. I stood up, as quiet as I could, and sneaked out the building. I did my best to stay out of sight but I never expected it to work. I’ll never know how I managed to get past them. Maybe they just weren’t bothered about an old girl like me?

  It was good to get home.

  I let myself in, and suddenly everything felt better. I wish I’d just stayed there from the start. It was just like I’d left it. The washing up was still in the bowl, and my clothes were still on the line in the yard.

  I collected up all the food and drink I could find, then dragged the mattress out of the spare bedroom down to the cellar. That’s where I’ve stayed since then. It’s cold and dark down here but at least I’m home and at least I’m safe. I’ve got a torch and candles and matches for light and I’ve managed to find plenty to do to keep me occupied. I’ll stay down here as long as I have to. I’ve got books to read and I can knit and sew if I want to. Shame there isn’t any music. I miss the radio. I miss the voices. The radio used to keep me company but I know I have to stay quiet now. If I make too much noise they’ll find out where I am. Sometimes I can hear them moving around up there. Sometimes I can even hear them in my house.