Resistant Box Set

by Perrin Briar

  An arm flashed out to grab at her clothing, but Dana moved her leg in time to avoid it. She edged a little farther away.

  The undead reached for her again, arms flailing, and was pushed out the window and over the side, onto the crowd below.

  Its body was ripped apart within moments.

  Another body fell as met with the same fate. Soon a steady stream was falling through the window and onto the ravenous crowd below.

  The undead were a sea. The entire street was packed with the undead. Hundreds more rounded the corner and approached, joining the great ocean.

  One false move and Dana was dead.

  She edged along the building and got to the concrete barricade wall.

  This was as far as she’d planned.

  She wanted to get to the barricade, and then hope there was an easy way down on the other side…

  But there wasn’t one.

  At least there were no undead on this side. The choice of which side of the barricade to drop down on was at least an easy decision to make.

  Dana had expected a ladder or some other way for soldiers to descend from the wall. Apparently, they hadn’t allowed soldiers to perch on top of it.

  Then Dana saw her way out.

  The barricade had been built to ensure the undead could not break through the buildings on one side. Just Dana’s luck to have emerged on that side.

  The other side was normal and had not been fortified. The army had planned on the undead coming from that one direction and didn’t plan on defending their rear.

  That had been their blunder. Dana could see the vehicles that had been broken into, peeled open like tin cans. The splash of blood across the hood and tarmac.

  To her left, the wall had been shot out. There was a large scar on the side of the building. No way Dana could leap across that space. Even if she could, the ledge was far too small to allow her to grip hold of.

  She would head toward the building on the other side of the barricade instead. It appeared not to have been overly damaged.

  But that meant she had to walk across the barricade.

  Dana was careful to place her feet as she did so. Her foot was better, but still sometimes twisted oddly. She didn’t want to fall flat on her face, or worse, over the side and onto the roving mass below.

  She limped forward. With every step she took, the undead below followed her, eyes fastened on her every movement. Their feet shuffled to keep up.

  Their outstretched hands reached up to grasp at her, as if at an invisible piece of meat. They were desperate for her, but they would not get her.

  Not today.

  Dana got to the other end of the barricade. She took off her boot, placed her hand inside it, and used it to smash the window. She ran it around the edge to ensure no sharp edges, and then replaced her boot.

  She leaned in through the gap and turned her head side to side to listen to anything that might be inside. Confident there was nothing, she stepped through the window.

  The house was dark, silent. It felt to her like the entire house was watching her.

  The house had been built with the same blueprints as the one opposite.

  This time, she worked backward, walking down the stairs. The front door was on her left. But she didn’t reach for it, not yet.

  She checked right first. She would make no movements, make no mistakes, until she was well and truly safe. She would take nothing for granted. These creatures could drop on her at any moment. She was safe nowhere.

  She edged down the short entrance hall and checked the rooms on either side. On the left, a reasonably sized front room, tastefully decorated with carved wooden items on the walls. On the right, a small downstairs toilet.

  Dana edged backward, her heart in her throat, and returned to the front door. She reached for the locks and threw them open.

  She turned the door handle.

  The door opened.

  But she wasn’t home free yet.

  She calmed herself, staying her itching feet.

  The most dangerous part of any mission was the moment you thought you were safe when you thought you were home dry.

  There would be a zombie right outside the door. It would be standing there, waiting for her.

  Dana edged forward and waved a hand, certain the undead could not deny themselves the pleasure of her flesh. So willingly given.

  But nothing happened.

  Dana waited a moment. Then she edged forward again, inch by laborious inch, until she could stretch out her neck and peer down the street.

  There was nothing there. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Splat!

  Dana leaped back, heart near exploding out of her chest.

  What had that been?

  She threw the door open, leaped over the threshold, and edged down the street, away from the wall. Instinctively, she sensed the sound had come from the wall.

  But where?

  Splat!

  A little farther away this time.

  And there was movement. On the ground.

  An arm reached up for her. The creature was unable to walk, its legs crushed.

  The creature began to pull itself along the ground, dragging its dead weight behind it.

  Dana caught sight of movement out the corner of her eye. On top of the barricade.

  The undead are up there!

  How could that be? Had they managed to creep along the window as she had? Or had they pried open the metal defenses with their hands the way she had with the machine gun?

  No. She couldn’t believe that.

  Then the figures fell from the barricade.

  Splat!

  These were not smart creatures. They couldn’t even negotiate the stairs, something every child mastered by the age of five. Then how were they reaching the barricade?

  The answer came when three more figures pulled themselves up in their ungainly form onto the top of the barricade. Then immediately proceeded forward and fell on the other side with matching Splats!

  There were so many undead they were crawling over each other, forming a column that allowed them to spill onto the other side.

  They were falling, if not to their death, then at least incapacitating themselves. But that wouldn’t last long.

  Splat! Splat! Splat!

  The more that fell, the more cushion would form, until the creatures could walk down the other side.

  It didn’t matter how many of them it took to create that cushion, but it was going to happen. Eventually.

  Dana didn’t intend on hanging around to find out.

  She took off at a run, into the dark streets and beyond.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  HUGO, POO POO HEAD and Debbie’s trip to the sailing club was uneventful. The majority of the undead were chasing Dana. They met a few straggler zombies, but nothing Hugo couldn’t take care of.

  Nothing Hugo couldn’t take care of!

  Hugo could hardly believe what he was thinking!

  A few days ago he couldn’t say boo to a ghost. Now, he was sliding pieces of sharpened steel into zombie eye sockets.

  Funny what a few days at the end of the world will do to a person.

  They arrived at the sailing club. They hadn’t been there five minutes before Debbie said for the first time that she thought they should go.

  “We’re not leaving until Dana comes,” Hugo said, and repeated every time Debbie made the same comment.

  “It’s no good waiting for someone who is already dead,” Debbie said.

  “Dana’s not dead,” Hugo said.

  He couldn’t know this of course, but he hoped it was true.

  It seemed to him that people with purpose, a reason to keep going, were the ones who survived. And boy, did Dana have a powerful purpose. He supposed there was little else more motivating than the safety of a loved one. Hugo would have felt the same. If he had anyone to care about.

  Then he realized he did have someone to care about. She didn’t care about him the same
way he did about her, but that didn’t matter. He cared for Dana. He needed her to be safe.

  And I let her go into the city, alone, chased by a horde of ravenous undead.

  He shook his head. How could he have been so careless and stupid? How could anyone say they cared for someone when they let them go running off like that? They couldn’t.

  He was talking bullshit.

  And yet, would he have made a different decision if faced with the same dilemma?

  No. It was the only plan they had, and it wasn’t like he could stop Dana from doing whatever she wanted. He supposed accepting people and letting them do what they wanted was a part of caring for them, in a way.

  He had to let her know he would be there to pick up the pieces if anything went wrong.

  And yes, Hugo thought. He would keep his promise to Dana. He would continue chasing after Max. He needed purpose too.

  That was if he didn’t know exactly where she was already…

  If only he hadn’t seen what he had in the basement of the university…

  A cloud darkened Hugo’s brow. He was beginning to wonder if Debbie’s constant predictions weren’t right. Still, he kept watch out the window.

  Every half an hour or so he saw figures. Sometimes they lurched with the wayward approach of the undead, necks slumped in their classical pose, thick drool hanging from their lips. They were floating pieces of detritus on an ever-moving shore.

  And other times he thought he saw others, rushing with the hurried gait of fellow survivors, crouched low and creeping. But he didn’t flag them down. The last thing he needed was to make their situation even more complicated.

  Poo Poo Head took to fingering the nameplates and calligraphy stencils used to name ships. He worked his way from one font to another, and then another.

  Then the door opened.

  Hugo started from his reverie, jumped to his feet, prepared to fight—undead or living—before he saw who stood before him.

  “Dana!” he said.

  He hugged her.

  “What are you doing?” Dana said, pushing him away.

  “Sorry,” Hugo said. “I just… I’m glad you’re all right.”

  Dana didn’t look all right. She was covered in a new layer of blood, grime, and sweat.

  Debbie screwed up her mouth. She didn’t share Hugo’s excitement.

  “We have to go,” Dana said.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  THE NEIGHBORHOOD AROUND the sailing club was, as expected, an affluent suburb. The houses were large and impressive. They looked great to live into Dana, even if they were a little exposed.

  She disliked being out at night with no streetlamps. It was the first night of real darkness they’d experienced. Anything could come out of it at any time.

  “Are you sure you remember where it is?” Dana said to Debbie.

  The old lady grunted, growling under her breath.

  “I take that as a yes,” Dana said.

  She did not trust the old hag so far as she could throw her. And she wished she could throw her.

  Into the waiting jaws a thousand undead.

  The thought brought a smile to Dana’s lips.

  Halfway up the street, they came to a wood. It seemed to come from nowhere. There were houses on either side of it. It was not large, about the same size as the plots of land in the vicinity.

  Debbie led them through it, her movements slow and pained. Whoever owned this place sure valued their privacy.

  A single dirt path wound through the trees. It was difficult to see in the darkness. Dana trusted her feet to find it for her.

  The trees petered out until they came to a house surrounded by a tall wall. Only the upper floors of the house were visible over it. It was an expensive house made of glass.

  On the wall, written in a flowing font, was the property’s name.

  Sanctuary.

  “Not another wall,” Dana mumbled under her breath.

  “What was that?” Hugo said.

  “Nothing,” Dana said.

  The wall had to be ten, no, twelve feet high. There were no handholds or any other items that would make climbing it easier. A series of cameras stood perched like ravens at the corner of each wall. The tree branches had been sawn back so they didn’t come close to the wall. Although time had passed and the branches swayed dangerously close, they were not yet long enough to make the climb over the walls easier.

  “Looks secure,” Hugo said. “Maybe too secure. How are we supposed to get in?”

  The gate swung open on perfectly maintained hinges. Poo Poo Head whimpered.

  “I told you, I work here,” Debbie said through her toothy grin.

  Hideous.

  She’d input the passcode. Hugo and Dana stood ready with their weapons, half-standing, half-crouching in their fighting poses.

  Anything inside was sure to come directly at them.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Nothing came charging at them. Neither Dana nor Hugo relaxed. They were too used to being surprised to let it happen again.

  They stepped through the open gate, crouching down, ready to swing their blades at a moment’s notice.

  Nothing lurched at them.

  They entered the complex, Debbie at their head. She seemed to come alive, full of excited energy. She shut the gate behind them and input the code. Dana watched carefully.

  2171.

  They crossed the perfectly manicured lawn. It wrapped around the entire house. Flowers and foreign trees ran along the perimeter. Cherry blossoms in full bloom.

  Debbie froze. Ahead of her were a pair of undead. They came at them in a slow gait, having been bitten deep and hard on the neck. A pair of security officers.

  Both Dana and Hugo approached, not wishing to take any chances.

  “Hey!” Dana said.

  The first, larger creature turned toward her.

  Hugo crept behind the monster, shouting when he was within a few feet. He ducked under the man’s arms as they came around to seize him. He thrust his blade up through its neck.

  “Missed,” Hugo said.

  But the security guard’s weight was already boring down on him.

  Hugo quickly withdrew the blade and sent it up again, slicing into the creature’s eye socket.

  His body went limp. He fell forward. Hugo stiffened his grip and stepped forward, twisting the blade so the undead’s body slid off the blade and onto the lawn.

  “Nice work,” Dana said.

  Hugo couldn’t tell if she was being serious or sarcastic. He was still alive, so he supposed it didn’t really matter.

  He wiped his blade on the guard’s uniform.

  Dana stepped up to the next undead, another security guard, this one much smaller than the first. She held out her blade. She let the zombie impale itself through the eye and slide deeper onto it. It dropped to the ground.

  Dana cleaned her own blade on the grass, and then looked up. She smiled at what she saw.

  “Hey Hugo,” Dana said. “I think you’ll want to handle this one. If you know what I mean.”

  Hugo joined Dana, his eyes near-popping out of their sockets. Before him, dressed in a bright pink bikini was the sexiest zombie he had ever seen. Those two words—sexy and zombie—ought never be put together in the same sentence, but here she was.

  A blonde bombshell with huge talent. Her face ruined the effect somewhat, with her hair hanging in her eyes, her face as pale as snow, claret running from her blood-red lips.

  “Why don’t you take care of her while I check inside?” Dana said. “Try not to have too much fun.”

  “You’re sick,” Hugo said.

  He approached the woman on the other side of the pool, standing between two deck chairs.

  Dana moved to a side door that led into the house.

  “Wow,” Dana said.

  She couldn’t stop the word from escaping her lips. This house was…

  Wow. There was no other way to describe it.

  Whoever
had been the owner had to have been a very rich person indeed. The space was wide and an antique staircase curled up to the next floor like a demon’s horns. A crystal chandelier reached down to kiss it.

  Despite the size of the place, there were surprisingly few rooms. It had been designed to be open and airy, with lots of open space. Dana loved it immediately. She doubted there were many people who wouldn’t.

  Dana turned to Debbie.

  “You go around that way,” she said, pointing to another door that led into the next room. “While I go this way. If there’s anything here, I don’t want to miss it because of a blind spot.”

  Debbie grumbled under her breath but did as Dana asked.

  Dana approached her own doorway and leaned inside the room, keeping all her senses turned up to full.

  On the other side of the wall was a large kitchen. It was decked with all the modern conveniences, made of the finest expensive marble. It looked like something that belonged on the front cover of a magazine.

  Debbie appeared on the other side of the kitchen, spoiling the view. The room was empty.

  There was a thud upstairs, on the roof of the kitchen. Dana turned and headed back to the staircase. Something was up there. It might have been a dog or cat, but she wouldn’t let herself assume anything until she saw it with her own eyes.

  “Debbie,” Dana said. “Wait here, at the bottom of the stairs. Understand? Poo Poo Head, you wait with her. If anything comes, run up the stairs and find me, okay?”

  Poo Poo Head nodded. Dana knew she could trust him, at least.

  She walked up the staircase and saw a family portrait, large and obscene on the wall. It showed the buxom blonde Hugo was now dealing with, and a stern but powerful man in a throne-like armchair. Their two kids stood on either side. They were all likely in this house, still to be vanquished and cleared out.

  At the top of the stairs were a set of bedrooms. Dana opened each room, one at a time. They were perfectly designed and well-appointed. Only a professional designer could have created something so picturesque.

  Finally, she came to the largest bedroom, twice the size of the others. And for obvious reasons. It would be for the two kids of the family to share. Dana glanced back at the portrait and saw the kids. Small hopeful smiles on their faces.