DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

by Brown, TW

  She untied the string and opened the package to discover an Irish flag. At first she was confused. Her mind had gone so far off the rails that she had actually forgotten their wager. She looked back at Paddy who was still smiling.

  “Really?” She cocked an eyebrow at the man. Surely that was not his priority at a moment like this.

  “A bet is a bet.”

  “You are as mad as a hatter,” she hissed, her voice dropping to a whisper as a few of the people filing in past her shot concerned or confused looks in her direction.

  Paddy opened his mouth to say something, but Vix held up her hand to silence him. An inspiration struck. It only strengthened as she saw the same expression on every single face. These people already knew. Of course they did, word traveled fast, but a person only need look outside to the north or east to know what was happening.

  Death was marching towards them, and it would not be denied. Only a miracle could save them. Miracles were for stories. They were forced into movies despite the improbability so that people could walk out of the cinema and feel hope.

  Without another word, Vix handed the flag to Paddy and began tugging at the laces of her boots. Setting them neatly against the wall, she removed her socks and tucked them in before unclasping her belt. It took only a minute, and the last stragglers walking in gave her a wide berth and deservedly odd looks as they passed her in the entry alcove that opened to the auditorium.

  Standing naked, she reached for the flag and had to snap her fingers to get Paddy to come out of his trance. The man handed the flag to her and she wrapped it around her shoulders before striding down the center aisle and towards the stage. After a wink over her shoulder, and in a clear voice, she began to sing.

  “Seo dhibh a cháirde duan Oglaigh, Cathréimeach bríomhar ceolmhar, ár dtinte cnámh go buacach táid, ’S an spéir go mín réaltógach…”

  “I’ll be damned,” Paddy said with a tear in his eye. “The lass went and learned it in true Irish.” Giving his pants a tug, he added his own voice to hers just as she reached the chorus. He followed her to the stage where Mike was standing with his jaw practically bouncing off the floor and his eyes bugging from their sockets.

  “…Sinne Finna Fáil, Atá fá gheall ag Éirinn, buion dár slua, Thar túinn do ráinig chugainn, fámhórd bheith saor…”

  ***

  Chad felt helpless as he watched the zombie emerge from the snow. His eyes were drawn to the trench in the snow that it had created as it dragged itself along. She looked like she was one of the dome zombies. She was obviously fresh, relatively speaking when it came to most zombies encountered these days, and had been ripped almost in half.

  He banked hard and made a straight-on approach with the zombie, hoping that Ronni could fight it off long enough for him to arrive. His wish was granted as he watched his daughter catch the woman by the throat and shove her head up and away as she tried desperately to move her legs. The problem with that came in the fact that the snowboard simply gouged up more snow which made moving all that much more difficult.

  Chad arrived and ducked low at the last second, launching himself forward into the creature. He hit it solid with one shoulder and flipped it back. The downside came when he felt his board connect with something solid. Ronni’s yelp of pain informed him of what his board connected with.

  As fast as he could, Chad grabbed the zombie and shoved it away. He was riding a massive adrenaline rush and barely noticed the index and middle finger of his left hand snap awkwardly to the right when they snagged in a rip in the heavy hemp shirt the zombie wore. Quickly ridding himself of his snowboard, Chad rolled over and promptly sunk almost to his waist in the white powder.

  The zombie was mewling and pawing at the air as it struggled to roll back over and get at him. Fortunately, Chad had strapped on his belt knife. It had been a thing of habit despite the fact that they were supposedly in a secure area. Getting his feet under him as best he could, he heard the moans of several zombies to his right and whipped his head around just as three of them tumbled from the rocky crag just beyond the trees.

  He looked over at Ronni and saw that she was finally making her way back up and could actually hop over and escape. Predictably, she reached for him.

  “Dad! C’mon, let’s go.”

  “You go now, I have your back. Tell Mark that there is a breach in their security. I will be right behind you,” Chad slapped her hand away as he scooped some of the snow away from where he stood.

  “But—” Ronni began, only to have Chad cut her off with a harsh bark.

  “I said go, young lady! Get help. I will be right behind you.” He already knew that was a lie as his eyes darted over just in time to see at least a dozen more of the undead tumble off the rocks and land in the snow.

  With a scream of frustration, Ronni hopped her board to the left and nosed into the fall line that would bring her to the base of the run. From there, she would be within shouting distance of the compound. He watched her dip over the ridge and vanish; as soon as she was out of sight, he returned his attention to the creeper that was already within striking range. He reached out and grabbed it by the hair, yanking it close and driving his knife into its temple.

  Now that the closest one was dealt with, Chad pulled his board over. He would need to wade over to the tree that was about ten feet away. Once there, he would be out of the snow enough so that he could step back into the bindings on his snowboard and then make his escape.

  He had to duck walk his way up onto the snow, and his eyes were searching for the first line that would start him on his way. The sounds of the dead closing in had his heart slamming in his chest. When the pain came, he knew what it was instantly.

  His left hand went numb and he felt like a thousand bees were stinging the entire arm. Chad fell to his knees but continued to try and crawl. The snow began to act like quicksand and he could not seem to make any progress. There was a sound that seemed to echo in his head. He knew it was bad, but his mind was clouding and he could not control his thoughts to get himself to focus on the situation.

  A cold hand slapped the side of his face and Chad felt himself being pushed down deeper into the snow. To make it worse, his feet were now above his head. He knew that was bad, but he was helpless to do anything about it.

  Something pulled him sideways and he could feel several hands starting to paw at him. He wanted to laugh as he was shoved back and forth to no avail by the growing number of undead that were now trying to get at him. And then the hands began to fall away. Yet, he remained face down in the snow and basically helpless to do anything. The snow was no longer melting around his face and it was compacting to the point where it was becoming harder to draw a breath.

  Chad felt a sense of warmth and calm settle over him as things began to fade into a pleasant darkness. A very small voice in the back of his head told him to fight it, but that voice was so distant that it became easier and easier to ignore as the warmth seeped into every part of his being.

  When he opened his eyes again, he was in a room that was partitioned off by heavy curtains. He tried to move and found his limbs unresponsive. He blinked and tried to speak, but his voice would not come. A familiar face suddenly loomed over his and smiled.

  “Hi, Dad,” Ronni whispered. “You had me worried for a while there.”

  Again Chad tried to speak but found he could not. Slowly, everything began to line up and march across his memory. He realized what had happened before Ronni spoke and confirmed it.

  “You had a heart attack. Also, the doctor tells me that part of why you are so weak is due to the possibility of cancer. He wanted to do the tests, but I told him to leave you be. Is that why you have been acting so strange?” Ronni brushed a lock of hair from his face and kissed him on the cheek. “That is what this trip was about, wasn’t it?”

  Chad tried to nod, but nothing seemed to happen. He felt tears well up in his eyes and was not sure which emotion was the chief cause. It could have been the frustration
or the sadness that his daughter would now be aware of his condition and probably try to baby him.

  “I see our patient is awake,” a strange man said as he pushed the curtain aside and entered the cubicle.

  “I don’t think he can talk,” Ronni said, taking Chad’s hand in hers as she turned to face the man.

  “That is very possible. Partial paralysis is often a side-effect of a massive heart attack like what your dad had. It is possible that it may lessen over time, but with everything else his body is dealing with, I would not place my expectations too high.”

  Chad tried to squeeze his daughter’s hand, but he was not sure he succeeded until she spoke.

  “He is right here, let’s not talk about him like he isn’t, okay.” Ronni gave her dad’s hand a strong squeeze in response as she spoke, letting him know that, whether or not she felt his attempt at communicating, she knew him well enough to know his wishes.

  “Absolutely.” The doctor stepped up beside the bed and began examining Chad. He listened to his heart as well as his lungs and belly. Chad saw his expression go stony as he completed the exam. “I am going to be frank, your dad is in bad shape. Our policy, due to constraints and limitations of this world we live in that is seriously lacking in pharmaceuticals, is to do our best to make a patient comfortable. But I am afraid there is nothing we can really do for him.”

  “Excuse me?” Ronni blurted, her voice going tight and sounding just a bit strangled as she obviously struggled with holding back the tears.

  Once again, Chad tried to squeeze his daughter’s hand. He knew the situation all too well. That was almost the same thing he had heard back home when the compound’s doctor had told him that he probably had cancer. He had already had plenty of time to accept what was happening. That had been part of the reason for this trip/vacation with his daughter. He planned on finding the right time and letting her know. This had not been how he had wanted it to happen.

  He felt his daughter’s hand still squeezing his, and he could hear her voice, but it seemed like it was growing more distant with each beat of his heart, which he now felt all too clearly. The pain was returning, and this time, he knew what it was and found that he had no energy to fight it.

  Ronni’s voice came to him from far away, and he strained to hear the words as everything began to turn gray, and then darken. It was like entering a tunnel, but instead of that distant light at the end growing brighter and larger, it did exactly the opposite. Eventually, it was down to a pinhole, and Chad found he was having an increasingly difficult time staving off the pain.

  For an instant, he felt the softest press of lips on his temple. Then, from a million miles away, he heard a familiar voice whisper in his ear.

  “I love you, Daddy. I always will…and I will always be your little girl.”

  Chad finally let go of the tether that he had clung to so tightly, allowing the darkness to come fully and cover that last pinhole.

  ***

  “I realize that many of you feel strongly that this is the wrong course of action,” Jody said. His eyes scanned the crowd that represented the population of Hope as well as most of those who called the corridor area their home. It had been a week since he and Jess returned and the tension in the community was so pervasive that it was becoming almost a physical presence.

  “Why does it always come down to fighting?” somebody called from the assemblage.

  “I wish I had an answer,” Jody replied. He hated that he was basically forced to respond in single sentences and short phrases. It was the only way to ensure that everybody heard the message clearly. He suddenly felt a bit foolish for not having grabbed the megaphone from the house.

  “Are we even sure that these people will do anything?” another person shouted to be heard over the low murmur.

  “Nope.” Jody saw no reason to lie. “We only know that they are less than twenty miles from here and they have much the same sort of security in place that we do. They were in league with George and Margarita. Bill Pitts is dead and these people, if they did not have a direct hand in it, were complicit.”

  That caused another murmur to sweep the crowd. It was obvious that he would not have unanimous support, but it did seem as if the majority was on his side. He would assemble his people and they would march on this other compound. He knew that could be risky, but he honestly believed leaving them unchecked would result in their being attacked. Already, some of the people working the farms were reporting seeing people on the fringes of the fences. Anytime they were approached, whoever it was would take off. He was about to ask for all wishing to volunteer to step forward when shouts were heard from outside the meeting hall.

  A moment later, one of the security details entered escorting two people who looked like they had been rolled in filth, dipped in gore, and then left to dry in the sun.

  “Jody, I think you need to hear these people,” one of the guards announced as he stepped forward from the group.

  “A herd!” the man gasped, yanking his arm free from the security person who had been holding him.

  The crowd went deathly silent. All eyes shifted to the pair of individuals that were now standing a few feet in front of their escort; neither being restrained in any way after Jody gave a curt nod indicating that it was okay.

  “Alright,” Jody said, letting that word draw out a bit. “Herds are pesky, but we have withstood our share over time.”

  “Not like this one,” the woman who had remained silent up to this point said as she stepped up beside the man. “And…”

  She started to say something else, but her voice faded and she dropped her head. The man put an arm around her and whispered something in her ear; she nodded and then visibly shook as she began to cry.

  “This is not like any other, and it is our fault. But something went wrong…they…” Once again the man’s voice faded and now he dropped his head like the woman beside him. After a moment, he lifted his head and wiped at his face.

  Jody stepped to the front of the platform. A sick feeling began to rise in his stomach. He had a notion that he already knew what this person was going to say, but he needed to hear it.

  “Go on,” Jody said. He did not have to raise his voice since the auditorium was almost perfectly silent.

  “A few months ago, a group arrived and told us about a settlement near ours that was gearing up to conquer everything in the area. A few of our people were brought to a watch tower of some sort that belonged to these people. This man had our people watch as he tried to approach. You would have thought this man was a gang of blood-thirsty raiders the way the folks in that tower responded. Thank God our people had gone on horseback or our fear was that they would have all been killed.”

  “That group was not led by a George Rosamilia and a woman named Margarita?” Jody scoffed, and then scolded himself; now was not the time for being petty.

  “I think you know they were,” the woman shot back with her own hint of venom. “And I know that your people led an attack on one of our outposts very recently, killing four of our people and I believe you even abducted one since no body was recovered and the woman you took was not on our immune registry, so it is unlikely that she just wandered away.”

  “Please,” Jody prompted, “continue with what you came here to tell us.”

  “Came here to tell you!” the man barked. “We were simply running for our lives and ended up here. Your roving patrol gave us no option other than to come with them. Since they had crossbows and we only had our blades, there was no real choice on our part.”

  “Okay,” Jody fought the urge to dress this man down, but obviously there was something about this herd that made it more dangerous than others. Or…maybe that other community was a bit weaker and not up to the task of dealing with a large herd. “Please continue.”

  “The leading edge arrived the day after you left. There were some that started saying you and your people actually funneled them at our town.”

  That received a series of
shouts and protests from the group. Jody admitted that such a thing could be done, but they had not resorted to such tactics. None of their charts had shown a herd within a few hundred miles in any case, so it was mostly a moot point; or at least that was what he’d thought up until now. He raised his hands and silenced the crowd before urging the pair to continue with their narrative.

  “They were brought from Memphis,” the woman lifted her head and spoke. Her voice was strangled and Jody could not tell if it was from anger or sadness. “We found out too late.”

  “Memphis?” Jody was confused. Again, the charts showed nothing in that vicinity when it came to a sizeable herd.

  “One of Mr. Rosamilia’s people flipped. I guess he was not clued in on the final plan and when he discovered it, he came to us.” Now the woman spoke with a certain air of authority. Jody had a feeling about the woman and had it confirmed a second later when she continued. “I have been the mayor of Free City for six years. Honestly, we had no idea there was a community so close. If we had, we would have sent an emissary and tried to arrange some sort of accord with you a long time ago.”

  “Then why did your people come out with George and attack one of our satellite farms? Children were murdered!” Jess shoved her way through the crowd and actually had to be stopped by one of the security escorts as she seemed to almost lunge at the pair.

  “This Mr. Rosamilia was very persuasive. We were trying to protect ourselves.” The woman turned and actually addressed Jess when she gave that answer. “We were led to believe that your people were a direct threat to our way of life.”

  “So, we can talk about all of this later, tell us about this herd,” Jody pressed.

  “They came, as I said, just after your departure. There were so many. Our trenches have always been enough to stop any threat. Much like yours, they circle our entire town. Granted, we don’t circle the farmland, and maybe we should have. Maybe if we would have had an outer ring we would not have fallen so fast.”