DEAD: Onset: Book One of the New DEAD series

by TW Brown

  I looked into my pack and saw the few meager things that I’d managed to grab and realized that returning now simply was not reasonable. Despite the fact that Chewie meant more to me than any of those people, I needed to make this run outside the relative safety of our walls count for something.

  I could not help myself as I watched that pathetic creature climb those stairs and make its way inside the house. Was it operating on instinct like we assumed the undead were doing? Was it hoping to find the zombie versions of its master inside? And if it did eventually come across its former owner, would it then follow him or her around?

  I shook all that from my head and ventured into the next house. The sliding glass door was intact. I could see one zombie roaming around in the living room through an arch that separated a dining room with a beautiful cabinet that had miraculously remained intact so far. I could see a fancy gold-trimmed china set on display inside.

  Giving the sliding glass door a tug, I was hit with an overwhelming wave of stench when I managed to get it open. Staggering back, I turned just in time to lean over the rail and be sick. I heaved twice more before I could get myself together. When I turned around, I almost fell over backwards. As it was, I basically stumbled into that rail I’d just been leaning over with enough force to cause my back to pop loudly.

  Standing in the frame of the sliding glass door was a zombie. She was completely naked. I averted my gaze out of reflex as my brain still issued commands from an old world where modesty existed. Still, I’d noticed bindings dangling from both her wrists before I’d done so. That added more depth to the nightmare I’d been hearing unfold in this little housing complex before the zombies came and busted up the party.

  I reminded myself that this creature was no longer living. I doubted she was experiencing any sense of embarrassment or shame at her nakedness. I turned back to this creature as it slapped feebly at the glass. I saw what looked like phone charging cables still tied around each ankle. They had cut deep into the flesh and left a nasty stain from where the blood had dried and then flaked away.

  With the door open just a crack, I could hear the moans as the creature gnawed impotently at the glass. A disgusting smear of thick mucus and blood fouled the glass as she continued trying to get at me.

  Steeling myself, I jerked the slider the rest of the way open and stepped aside as she tumbled out and landed hard on the wooden deck. With one stroke, I brought the axe down onto the back of the zombie’s head, ending its suffering once and for all.

  Now that she was dead and no longer a threat, my eyes made a cursory inspection. What I saw sickened me. I had no doubts as to what her fate had been before the undead arrived. Part of me believed that perhaps the zombies had been a bit of a mercy. I also had the time to hope that her tormentors and captors had suffered a gruesome ending.

  Stepping into the dining room, a noise to my left caused me to glance over into the kitchen which was just through another archway. On the floor was a man who’d met just the sort of grisly ending that I’d wished for just a handful of seconds ago in regards to the raiders or whatever they were that had descended on this little community. His left arm had been wrenched off, leaving a nub of bone sticking out where it had once been connected to the shoulder. His throat was a gaping black hole and his nose had also been ripped off his face. His right leg was missing and his stomach had been ripped open so that the zombies that had feasted on him could get at the soft inner bits. The finishing touch rested in his being naked from the waist down. There was nothing but copious amounts of dried blood down below the waist, and I didn’t have to look too closely to know that he was missing his twig and berries.

  Still, it wasn’t that sight that had me frozen in place. Sitting beside the sprawled figure was a zombie child. I guessed him to be perhaps four or five. He was holding a large two-pronged fork that had probably once been used at the barbecue grill or to hold a roast in place while it was being carved. I quickly noticed a few dozen punctures up and down the little boy’s arms that probably matched the spacing of the tines on the fork he was holding.

  Currently, that fork was plunged into the left eye socket of the zombified man on the floor. A viscous goo trickled down the man’s cheek. I waited for the child to get up and come for me, but it simply stared up at me as it pulled the fork free and then slowly plunged it down again. This time, it punctured the man’s cheek causing the moan to be cut short and transform into more of a gurgle. I could actually see one of the tines stick out near the back of the jaw.

  I stepped away as I heard noise from deeper within the house. I did not think it was worth the risk to venture in any further. I made a very slow retreat out the sliding door, pushing it shut once I was back on the porch. That entire time, the child had made no move for me. He’d simply continued to watch me with what almost seemed like curiosity and fascination.

  As soon as I was over the back fence of this house and in the yard of the next one, I took a few minutes to settle myself down. Both my hands were trembling and I felt like I would hyperventilate soon if I didn’t get my breathing under control.

  At last, I was able to approach the next house. It actually looked totally untouched. I didn’t see anything moving around through any of the windows as I drew closer. Once I reached the small back deck, I eased a covered barbecue out of the way and cupped my hands to the window so I could get a good look.

  Nothing.

  I tried the door and it was locked. I moved around to the first window I came to and pressed my palms flat against the glass to try and open it. No luck. That would mean exiting the backyard and trying the garage or perhaps the front door. That last one was the least enticing choice as far as I was concerned.

  I opened the gate and slowly stuck my head out to get a look. I didn’t see anything, and the moans I did hear were not close. I stuck near to the side of the house as I moved to the front. Once I reached the corner, I had to actually work up the nerve to look around it.

  The street was littered with debris. Also, the gentle breeze would occasionally shift and send a streamer of smoke wafting past from two of the houses smoldering across the way. A single zombie was standing in the middle of the road about two houses up past me. It seemed to be staring up at the sky for no apparent reason.

  I eased around the corner and ducked behind the car parked in the driveway. Once I reached the end of my cover, I took another good look around. I had about five long steps to get me to that front door. I made sure that nothing was looking my way and then scurried to the door. I reached it, turned the knob and felt a surge of relief when it opened.

  I slipped inside, shut the door behind me, and froze in my tracks. Despite there being no sign of any activity inside this house, I could smell the very distinct and rancid odor of the undead.

  The ground floor took me a few minutes to clear as I crept through the halls and peeked in a living room, dining room, kitchen, and what turned out to be a small office by the looks of things. That meant that wherever this zombie was “hiding” had to be upstairs.

  As soon as my foot touched the bottom stair, I heard it: a soft moan along with a strange squeak. I crept up the stairs and stopped in front of a closed door where I waited until I heard the noise again. It was coming from the other side of the door. Gripping my hand axe, I braced myself and then threw the door open.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” I managed to breathe as I staggered back a few steps and threw my arm over my face.

  11

  Discoveries

  I had no idea what had happened to this poor man, but a lot could be guessed. Judging by the small sizes of the bite marks I could make out up and down his arms, he’d been attacked by the child version of the undead. In my mind, there was nothing more horrifying.

  I flashed back to that child with the large two-pronged fork. It had sat there regarding me and made no attempt to come after me. Yet, there had been something in the way that it watched me. I was certain that it was studying me and waiting for…someth
ing.

  This man was middle-aged, and had thinning blonde hair that clung to the fringes, but had mostly abandoned the top of his head. He was wearing baggy shorts and a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off and looked like maybe he’d just come back from the gym.

  His left arm was torn up between shoulder and elbow, and you could see several bites up and down his right arm that either barely broke the skin or just left a nasty bruise. Only one bite on the apex of the right bicep looked to have torn away any meat.

  The worst injury was on his face. The left cheek had a nasty rip and I could see his teeth gnashing through the hole. Sinews of flesh stretched and retracted as the creature opened and shut its mouth in frustration at my arrival. A single flap dangled but seemed to have gone slightly stiff.

  The man had obviously retreated to this bathroom before actually dying. He’d had the presence of mind to zip tie his stockinged feet together and then slip his head through a belt that he’d secured to some kind of vertical handle mounted on the back wall of the shower.

  I imagine that his shedding of his shoes had something to do with trying to hasten his obvious suicide. Maybe he did it in order to prevent being able to gain any solid footing in the tub when he’d hung himself. He now sat at an awkward angle in the tub with his body cocked to the left as I faced him.

  This pathetic creature would swipe at me, try to regain his feet, then tumble one way or the other since he had no use of his legs to remain steady. I moved to one side and got a look at that handle. My best guess was that it was to help a person stand up if they were seated in the tub. As somebody who worked in construction and had built my share of homes, I was sort of impressed with the mounting job the builder had done on this single feature. If not for all the gore and stench, I might’ve actually been able to enjoy the craftsmanship a bit more.

  All the various bodily fluids and seeping blood had fouled the bottom of the tub’s basin and then dried into a sticky coating that allowed this zombie to almost struggle to his knees; albeit precariously with his bound feet. I could not imagine the nightmare this poor man had endured. All I could do for him was step up and end his existence. I pulled the knife from my belt and plunged it into the side of the head. The body slumped forward, the belt tightening one final time around the throat of the inert corpse. I quickly grabbed the few things of any use before leaving.

  I exited the bathroom and shut the door. That was when I heard the scrabbling on one of the doors at the end of the hall. Besides the sounds of nails scratching on wood, I also heard low growls, hisses, and moans.

  I approached the door, and my eyes went to the crack between the bottom of that door and the floor. I could see dark shadows flitting about. After a brief moment of consideration, I decided that I could forgo whatever might be behind that door. I had no doubt there was more than one zombie on the other side. I glanced back at the bathroom door where I’d left that poor man’s body. Something told me that his killers lurked here. If there were children in there, I wanted no part of it.

  I headed down the stairs and exited out the back. The next three houses were uneventful due to them being empty. I was now approaching the end of what the sign told me was SE Scott Park Circle. Next would be the four houses along SE Scott Park Lane. The ones in the middle were all devastated by the fires that had burned here and they would not likely offer up anything useful. Plus, since they were mostly burned all the way down, there was little cover to be had. It was best to stick to the houses along the edge. At least that was my conclusion.

  Making my way up the gradual slope, I saw a single zombie pause and then turn to look in my general direction. For a moment, I believed that it would just go about its business. When it began to trudge towards me, its arms reaching and its mouth opening and closing like it was warming up for some serious ripping and chewing, I knew I’d been spotted.

  I needed to take this one down before it drew too much attention to me. This would be a job for my axe and I deftly brought it to bear as I rushed over. One swing and a loud thud and crack put this creature down for good. I planted my foot on its shoulder and pulled my weapon free just as a chorus of moans erupted from my left in the direction I’d been heading.

  “You might’ve just saved my life,” I whispered to the corpse at my feet.

  Coming down the street were several of the walking dead. They had no apparent goal or destination and were simply moving along, following the easy curve of the road. I waited until the tail end of the small mob was past before coming up to a crouch and rushing to that group of four houses on the right.

  This group had no actual backyard. They had nothing more than back decks a floor above the dead-end street that ran behind them. The first one had a door on the ground level and I rushed to it.

  The door had been pried open at some point and I entered very cautiously. Sticking my head inside, I gave a sniff. Nothing jumped out at me to make me think there might be zombies inside, but I wasn’t going to take that for granted and start making assumptions.

  I found myself in a dark stairwell. There was a narrow and very dark hall with a door at the end and one on each side. Since it was so terribly dark, I chose to pass on being that brave.

  Moving up the stairs, I reached another door that had a nasty smear that looked like somebody’s bloody hand had swiped down it diagonally. I gave another experimental sniff, but still did not get even a hint of the awful stench seemingly unique to the walking dead.

  I eased the door open very carefully and found myself in a hall running to the left and right from where I stood. To the right, I saw a kitchen. To the left, I saw an intersecting hallway. Since I was confident of what I was likely to find in the kitchen, I decided to go left.

  In moments, I had cleared out a downstairs bathroom that had little more than a few soft soap dispensers and hand towels. I glanced in the living room and saw nothing that caught my eye, so I ventured upstairs. I was only halfway up when I began to smell something nasty. It wasn’t the stink that I knew from the zombies. This was much heavier with feces and a coppery hint that I was certain had to be blood.

  I peeked over the lip as soon as my eyes were at a point where I could scan the area from floor height. I saw nothing and heard not so much as the tiniest creak that might be somebody moving. There were four doors up here. One was open and I saw a larger bathroom.

  What I did not want to have happen was for me to snoop around and have something occur that made me run for my life. If I had to bolt suddenly, I might leave behind all the potential goodies in there. I went in and emptied out the medicine cabinet, the drawers with toothpaste, toothbrushes, mouthwash, and feminine products that I almost left until I remembered that we had one grown up and one tween version of a female in our little band of survivors.

  Now that I had the important stuff, I felt okay with exploring further. I let my nose lead me to what I figured to be the source of the smell up here. I turned the knob, my free hand cocked back and ready just in case my theory on the unique smell of zombies proved to be inaccurate.

  I winced at what I discovered. This had once been a young girl’s bedroom judging by the abundance of Disney princesses and overwhelming pink color scheme. Sitting on the floor just to the right of the window that looked out at the neighborhood sat a man. More precisely, what remained of him. Most of his head was sprayed up the pastel pink wall from where he’d blown his brains and most of his head away.

  I walked in and looked around to make sure there were no surprises and then pried the double-barrel shotgun from the stiff hands that held it in their dead grip; that accomplished, I grabbed the box of shells that sat beside the man.

  Glancing out the window, I stood there for several seconds. Eventually I realized that I was standing with my mouth open, so I shut it. My eyes continued to track the group of zombies as they moved along with slow steadiness. I almost laughed at what I was seeing.

  The zombies were rounding the corner to my right, and I could see the entire group from
this vantage point. I could also see the trail they were leaving behind. Bits and pieces of loose meat fell to the road and was trampled underfoot, creating a nasty, dark stain. What had me so amused was the fact that this particular group was simply following the road as it wrapped around in a circle.

  They were doing laps.

  “Coming from the inside, we have Bubba One-arm…right on his heels is Spandex girl and then the rest of the pack. It looks like we have a battle for third between Girl-who-needs-a-sandwich and Gas Station Attendant. And…oh…Spandex girl has taken a tumble. This could be the big one. Yes, three more stumble over the body and now we have zombies swerving everywhere to try and get around this terrible accident,” I droned in my best race announcer’s voice. I wasn’t entirely sure what a race announcer sounded like, but that didn’t stop me.

  I watched as the zombies that fell eventually made it to their feet again and rejoined the pack. They all shambled past and eventually rounded the corner to my left. I tracked them as they came in and out of my sight while moving down the street that was parallel to the one out in front of this house. I noticed a street that, if they turned sharp left just before rounding the corner and coming back by my location, would take them out of this part of the housing complex. Apparently they were not so inclined and eventually rounded the corner to my right again and started along the street below.

  I watched in morbid fascination until I realized that an incredible amount of time had passed as that pack did two complete revolutions of the development. I had no idea how long they would do what they were doing, but it was just another thing to catalog for further contemplation later.

  I looked in my pack and tried not to feel discouraged. I’d been to a handful of homes and had barely managed to fill the pack to the halfway point. I could search the other houses along this strip, but Carl had made it clear that I had to be back before it got dark or he would come searching for me. I needed more than what I was finding in these homes. I guess it was time to make my move to that clinic we’d passed.