Stay Dead: A Novel

by Steve Wands

  Dane's expression grew grim. His only desire was to get home to Susan, pop on the television and watch nothing remotely interesting as the aroma of fresh coffee filtered in from the kitchen. Those daydreams came to a quick end when the gristle and gray matter started spattering on his cruiser. A scream came from the right of where Dane was standing. It was punctuated by the sounds of gunfire and the grunting of the dead, but it was a scream nonetheless. Dane couldn't see who it was. His vision was blurred and he was close to passing out. So much madness in such a short time, it was hell and hell was getting really hot.

  Most of the men never had to fire their weapons at anything other than targets and bottles, yet they were now putting holes into heads. Some found they enjoyed it, the violence was so addictive and enthralling. For most, though, death stayed a taboo, one big question mark at the end of a life. Killing was now a right of passage for the men of the new world if they planned to survive.

  More screams broke the monotony of the gunfire. Someone else had fallen, another guy Davis had coerced into bearing arms against the living dead. There were few dead things left and with a few well-placed shots the numbers finally dwindled to zero.

  Alan began torching the remains of the creatures and the few who fell victim to them. Thick black smoke rose from the ground. The smell was awful. Dane wiped his sweaty forehead, pulling chunks of flesh, and dried blood off himself. He wanted to go home and shower, wrap his arms around Susan and feel like a human being again. Instead he felt like a hollowed out husk, a rusty robot in dire need of oil and lubrication.

  Davis grabbed his talkie, his leathered face covered in sweat. "South Roadblock come in." He paused, waiting for a reply.

  "Sheriff, this is south. What's up?"

  "How you guys holding up? We just had ourselves a helluva firefight."

  "What? Is everyone okay?" the voice from the other end asked.

  "No, we lost a few guys...we're going to need something more than a roadblock if more of these fuckers come to town. Get your guys and meet me at George's lot," said Davis.

  "See ya there. Over."

  All the men at the North roadblock were either huddled together or else in their vehicles as Davis pulled up. He opened his door, standing a head above his truck while using the door for leverage, "Listen up," he yelled, "Finish torching these dead fucks and everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, meet me at George's lot! This shit's only begun."

  ***

  Jeff had just finished his sandwich, dipping his last bit of roll into some hummus. His father had a room temperature bottle of Budweiser lingering off his lip. The kids were eating peanut butter and jelly. Apart from everyone chewing, the only sound you could hear was the wind crashing against the boarded-up windows. Barbara and Maria were eating some pasta left over from the night before and Laura was having a bit of everything. Barbara was tense and wanted to say something, she actually wanted to breakdown and cry, but she kept herself in check. The adults had agreed to keep cool in front of the kids (there was no need to scare them more than they already were). And they'd be in bed soon enough, leaving the adults to talk and curse and cry all they wanted. Lunch was a late one and should have been called dinner.

  Walter and Jeff went out to the porch, beers in hand, and looked up at the sky. It was almost dark.

  Walter looked at his son. "Let's take a stroll around the house. Give it one last look." He put the beer up to his lip and kicked it back.

  Jeff followed suit and they both took a casual walk around the house. All the boards looked good, and there was nothing in the distance besides the faint scent of smoke. A drop of rain fell, then another. A line of cars passed the road in the distance, Davis's pickup leading the way. A rumble was heard in the sky, lightning struck and thunder rolled.

  Jeff and his father finished up their walk around and ended right back on the porch. Walter looked up at the sky and Jeff looked at his father. Jeff's son, Tommy, came out to the porch as well. Jeff put his arm around him and pulled him closer. He had no idea what was going on, but he sure loved a thunderstorm.

  Everyone one was back in the family room with their stomachs full. The rain started to come down heavier, it wasn't pouring, but it was more than a trickle on the roof. The kids were getting antsy, so Maria decided to bring them upstairs. She took a big flashlight and led the way. She lit a few candles on the way to the room as well, and another inside the room so the kids wouldn't get too scared. Just for peace-of-mind she left the flashlight with them. Tommy grabbed it and gave it to Sandra, and then Sandra gave it to little Wally.

  They weren't quite ready for bed so they started building a fort and playing with their toys. Maria sat in the room and just watched. She loved them so much, and couldn't bear to think about what may lay ahead for them.

  They started building a fort around her as Sandra sat on her lap making goofy faces with the flashlight under her chin. Maria started laughing and crying at the same time. Maria wrapped her arms around Sandra and tackled the rest of them into the halfway-built fort and brought the sheets down with her. You could hear the laughter from the family room. The others smiled. The rain continued to fall.

  CHAPTER 4: The road to Hell

  The two groups sat together in the warehouse on pallets and crates, exchanging ideas and information. Ben's group was small; there were only two others, a guy that worked at Mal-Mart, Chung-Hee, and a fellow truck driver, Shorty, whom he picked up along the way. Shorty was an older man with a big goatee and tattoos over most of his visible skin, Chung-Hee was in his late teens, Korean, and he wore glasses and looked fairly athletic. Ben and Shorty, who clearly was not short, had been on the road since day one. Shorty was on his short band radio calling for help after his truck ran out of gas when Ben got the call and made the trip to get him. By the time Ben got there Shorty was on top of the truck with his bag, wearing his unloading gloves and swinging a crowbar at every dead hand that reached for him. Ben pulled up alongside the truck, mowing down some of the creatures in the process. Shorty nearly fell as he jumped onto the hood of the cab and Ben told him to hold on as they went down the road a bit, before could get inside the truck safely.

  The next day they docked at the seemingly vacant store and came across Chung-Hee, who had been surviving up on the roof and in some isolated parts of the store. After getting together, the trio had been working together to gather up whatever supplies they could.

  "I'm telling' you, the safe zones are bullshit deathtraps," Ben yelled.

  "It's the best thing to do, there's a group of us, and with a lot of kids--" Gerty defended, before getting cut off.

  "To get to the closest military guarded safe zone from here would mean going into Titan City, or Haddonfield. Both of which would be suicide," Ben said.

  "Let's not forget, that any bridge at this point would be totally fucked, not to mention the tunnel," Shorty added.

  "No matter where we go we'll have to use a bridge eventually," Eddie chimed in.

  "Either way you cut it, it's a raw deal. But the way I see it, I can only count on ME to look out for me" Ben said, his eyes pleading. "Do you really think the government can take care of us? We gotta take care of ourselves."

  "Look, we're at the campgrounds," Gerty said. "You're more than welcome to come and join us before you split, and we can all talk some more. We should get out of here." Then as she turned and headed back and the further she moved away from him the better she felt.

  "Hey, wait a minute! Are there any weapons in the store?" Frankie asked.

  "Yeah. Not much. By layaway... but be careful: there are more of those deaders around," Chung-Hee said.

  "I'll go with you, I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier," Shorty said, feeling stupid.

  "I'm going to keep loading the truck," Ben said. "I think we'll follow you guys to your camp, so swing around when you're ready, if you don't mind. Hopefully I can talk you out of a death sentence."

  "Not a problem," Eddie replied.

  Shorty and Frankie had
made it to the sporting goods section near the layaway department, Jon-Jon and Dawn following along. The glass showcases were smashed. Jon-Jon walked around looking at the area; he saw no signs of lurkers, or deaders as Chung-Hee called them. Frankie rummaged through the cases and only found three small knives. Behind the counter was a row of locked storage compartments. Shorty broke the locks with his crowbar, revealing a treasure trove of hunting knives. Jon-Jon came across some hunting and archery gear. He picked up a Crossbow and whatever arrows he could find. He also grabbed a few Compound Bows and whatever other bows were lying around. He wasn't sure what went with what, but figured someone at the campgrounds would know what to do with them. Dawn was looking through the hunting gear. She put on a camouflage cap and continued looking. Gerty came from around the corner of an aisle with Eddie, Frankie, and Joseph. They had bags upon bags around their shoulders.

  Eddie looked at Jon-Jon's haul and smiled, "crossbow?"

  "Hell, yeah."

  "Nice."

  Eddie headed toward the layaway area, which was just beyond the showcases. He slowly crept up to the dim area, passing a return rack. He peeked into the area, locating the doors: two were clearly bathrooms, and the other for an employee lounge. He sniffed the air and whatever crawled up his nose told him to quickly back up and leave. He did just that, if he learned anything lately, it was to trust his instincts.

  "We need to get out of here," Eddie said, almost whispering, but was clearly serious.

  "What's up?" Asked his brother, Joseph.

  "I can smell them, who knows how many are back there? Let's just fuckin' go! We got plenty of shit," Eddie insisted.

  They followed behind him, no arguments, jogging as quietly as possible. Eddie popped through the doors, startling Ben who was quick to pull his gun, which in turn stopped Eddie in his tracks. Chung-Hee looked whiter than a ghost, but ready to bolt if need be.

  "Sorry didn't mean to scare you guys, just wanted to let you know we're getting the hell outta here," Eddie said. "We'll meet you out back in a few."

  "All right, thanks. We'll be waiting," Ben said, as he put his gun down.

  Shorty came through the door with a gun tucked into his pants, his crowbar in hand and a hunter's bag slung over his shoulder. Ben and Chung-Hee were done and pulling the door down. Eddie took off out the door and headed toward the entrance where Big Cups was waiting the whole time. The gang followed behind, Gerty at the rear. When they reached the door Big Cups was standing against the wall, his breath smelled of peanut butter and chocolate but his expression was not of satisfaction but of total fear. He dropped the walkie-talkie and everybody could clearly see why. In the distance was a sea of grey--a virtual army of the dead, ranks upon ranks of them. Groans and grunts filled the air. Joseph grabbed the walkie-talkie and headed toward the vehicles, as did the rest of them.

  As they reached the rear of store where they were to meet Ben, Shorty, and Chung-Hee, they heard the moans grow louder and now could smell the lurking bastards. Ben heard it too, and Chung-Hee grew whiter still, though any whiter he'd be a sheet of paper. Shorty just looked tired, the hard lines of his face sat like gouges.

  "Lead the way!" Shorty yelled to them.

  Frankie was halfway out of the parking lot. Gerty followed behind in the new SUV, and Ben was right on her ass. Ben looked in the oversized rear view mirror that barely hung to the driver's side of the truck. His jaw hit the floor and came back up in time to help his lower lip quiver. He was seeing the sea of grey behind him washing over the parking lot where they had just been. The dead were in the street as well, probably in the woods too, but it was too hard to tell. They were everywhere.

  "Boone, you there?" Asked Joseph, in the SUV with Gerty.

  "Yeah, how you guys making out?"

  "Not good, we got like a million lurkers behind us. Any sign of them there?" he asked.

  "It's been clear, why?"

  "Make sure you guys are ready to leave--they just came out of nowhere, they're everywhere!" Joseph replied "They're a few miles behind us now, but I don't think we should stick around."

  "Fuck. All right, shit. How far away are you?"

  "Maybe...ten minutes, maybe a little less. We're moving pretty fast," Joseph said.

  "Tell that idiot not to get everybody worked up!" Gerty shouted.

  "Yeah, yeah, shhh," Joseph gestured to her with his hand to shut up.

  "What was that?" Boone asked.

  "Nothing, just keep everyone calm, over." Joseph put the walkie-talkie down.

  "Easier said than done, over and out."

  The three vehicles raced toward the camp. For most, the thought of reaching the Titan City safe zone seemed like an unrealistic possibility. At first, they thought it would be no problem, but now, just surviving was proving to be harder and harder. The creatures now crept from the road and direction they planned to take to get there. It was a possibility that these creatures all came from Titan City. However, there are plenty of other cities, and towns they could be from. By the looks of them it may have been the whole county. Few options remained for the group, but they were insistent on continuing with their initial plan, despite how difficult it would be, especially now.

  The creatures appeared to be staggering from the direction they needed to go. That alone raised a number of red flags and many questions that would remain unanswered. Most of the group couldn't stay where they were. Many had to flee, some were found, and others hope to find loved ones at Titan City, and other places along the way. Many towns organized their own safe zones at churches, schools, even hotels. But news reports stated that they were becoming overcrowded, and even had violent situations develop as a result.

  The media outlets would eventually report that the safest course of action was to stay home. Gerty had to flee her home, and sought sanctuary at her church. When she pulled up to it, people were banging on the door to get in. She drove off as soon as she heard the gunshots.

  Some of the other travelers had similar stories. Others left their homes to shack up with nearby relatives only to find them dead and hungry on arrival. Others had no real reason for traveling with the group other than to be a part of something, they were caught in the moment but the moment hadn't ended.

  Everyone had stories.

  It had been days, closing in on weeks since anyone had seen a live television broadcast and days since a live radio broadcast. They had been sporadic since the start, the last one ending abruptly just over a day ago. The last of the media coverage coupled with everyone's experiences over the last few days would lead one, or all, to suggest that going ahead to a safe zone was not the safest idea, nor was it the best solution. With the media coverage suggesting staying home as the best thing to do, and everyone knew people who did so, but most of them just couldn't see going back home as a solution either. Some had to run from their homes. For many it was too late to turn back, and the heart doesn't know what the head does. They might be headed down the wrong path but with enough perseverance and hope they can turn the wrong path into the right one. Or, the devil be damned, survive it.

  Boone, for the most part, was the group's leader--a role he fell into. It wasn't something he felt comfortable with at first, if at all, but it wasn't his choice anymore. He spoke his mind and everything he said just made perfect sense. So when he told the people at the camp to be ready to move out in ten minutes, they listened. Boone stood, holding a shotgun, in front of the hodgepodge of a convoy that was lined up and ready to roll out. Next to Boone were Sarah and Milah, his immediate traveling companions. Scott and Judy walked up to the three of them. They seemed almost unaffected by their situation, maybe it was acceptance of it, but it was something that most people found off putting. Boone thought that they were probably this way before the dead forgot how to die, and he found it reassuring, as if he could've known them then. Scott and Judy came to Boone with a small idea, and he thought it was a good one.

  The three vehicles raced up the path toward Boone and the others. Frankie p
arked and jumped out of his truck. Gerty did the same. Eventually almost everyone was out of their vehicles again and crowding around.

  "What's going on, guys?" Judy asked.

  "There's gotta be a thousand of those things, maybe more," Frankie said wildly.

  "Thousands," Boone barely whispered.

  "We've got plenty of time to get out of here, but the thing is...they're coming from the direction we want to go," Gerty said, "Which means plan A is fucked, and I don't recall hearing a plan B."

  Everyone nodded in agreement. Scott followed up with, "well, we don't really have any choice, do we? We have to go back...or run right through them, either way..."

  "We're not running right through them! That would be suicide," Frankie said, cutting him off.

  "So we have to go back the other way, but before we go...I think we should set fire to the brush," Scott said. "They'll walk right into it and it could buy us some extra time."

  "How do you plan on doing that," Gerty said sarcastically.

  "We do have a pretty big bonfire over there," Judy said as she pointed toward the pile of burning cadavers and tree branches.

  "We need to worry about getting everybody out of here first," Frankie, becoming irritated, said as he looked at the rest of the group standing by their vehicles.

  "What's going on," yelled a woman's voice, as she stepped out of her car.

  "It's okay, Jan, we're just figuring out where to go," Frankie said.

  She didn't look very satisfied and Frankie knew if they didn't figure something out, this would become a very sticky situation. "Look, we need to get out of here now, we passed a liquor store before we set up camp here, maybe a half hour down the road. Let's go there and figure out something better."