The Complete Deadland Saga

by Rachel Aukes

  With a chuckle, I plugged his MP3 into the audio input and kicked off the playlist he always listened to on our scouting runs. Flying was one of the few times we could listen to music without fear of zeds, and we always played rock-paper-scissors to see whose music would be played. Though, listening to any music was nice. Pop music filtered through our headsets, and I turned up the volume.

  We flew for an hour, everyone given the same task: search for herds. I kept the plane three thousand feet off the ground so that any herds would be easier to spot. Bill nervously chattered, his voice cutting over the music. Once I threated to pull the plug on his headset, he was a better passenger.

  The air was smooth and cool, and the sky was clear. It was an absolutely perfect flying day, and I found myself feeling lighter and breathing easier. There was something surreal about being in the sky, removed from the death and destruction below. It was the only time I could still feel completely at peace. After all, the sky was the only place left without man-eating predators.

  “There’s one! Down there, below!” Bill exclaimed.

  “Down where?” I cranked my head around to see him pointing out the window to my right. I looked, searching for zeds. My gaze narrowed on a field of dirt that seemed to go on forever in the distance, and I turned the plane in that direction. As we approached, the dirt morphed into what looked like a giant, flat anthill. Chills covered my body because this was no anthill.

  “Holy bejeezus,” Jase said. “That’s no herd. That’s…that’s…”

  “Fuck,” Clutch muttered.

  “Yeah,” I added, my jaws lax. As we drew closer, the movement began to split into individual humanoid shapes all moving together like fans at a music concert, only far bigger than any concert or sporting event could be. The herd was larger than I could’ve possibly imagined. Hell had opened up and spurted forth millions of demons from its gorge.

  “I told you guys these herds were huge. And it looks like another one in the distance out there,” Bill said from the backseat. “Now that you’ve seen it, can we check on my family?”

  “Hold on,” I said, as I continued to stare at the mass of zeds below us.

  “I wasn’t expecting a herd like that,” Jase said. “What could we possibly do if it found the park?”

  After a tense moment of silence, I pulled off to return to our flight path.

  A heavy stone was already growing in my gut. I found it hard to breathe, and my chest pounded like I was about to have a heart attack. I could already guess their trajectory from seeing the relatively straight trodden path over a half-mile wide that went on for as far as I could see. Camp Fox didn’t stand a chance.

  As I flew north, parallel to the zed path, Clutch continually updated the map while muttering under his breath every few seconds. The herd had crushed all the grass and fields in its path. We lost the path a couple times when we flew over larger towns, but quickly found the path again on the other side.

  “God,” I sighed. “There’s another one.”

  Clutch looked up and followed my finger. “Jesus.”

  Another herd, at least half the size of the first, looked like it was only thirty miles or so behind and headed the same direction.

  “I’ll mark it down,” Clutch said as I tried to stay focused on my heading, but my eyes kept darting back to the herd. Worse, not ten miles later, another herd appeared in the distance.

  “How can there be so many?” Jase asked from the backseat.

  No one answered. In fact, no one spoke for many long minutes. I gripped the yoke and twisted my hands around it. Clutch scribbled on the map. I couldn’t tell what Jase and Bill were doing behind me. My mind was too busy dealing with shock. I didn’t need to be an actuary to do the math. There was nothing we could do to defend Camp Fox against such numbers.

  We were absolutely, completely fucked.

  My brows furrowed as I held back a sob. The unfairness of it all pissed me off. We worked so hard to survive. We’d finally gotten to the point where we felt a step ahead of the zeds.

  And now this?

  Like Manny’s group, we could only run, but where could we go? The massive herds seemed to cover an entire line of latitude as they moved south.

  Bill lunged forward and pointed straight ahead. “There,” he said, wagging his finger. “See that? The university is coming up.”

  I jumped, startled. “Get buckled in!”

  “It’s SMSU. We’re there,” he said, not moving.

  I squinted and made out the connected buildings. We were still at least five miles out and I throttled back to slow the plane and descend. “All right, guys. Keep an eye out for zeds.”

  “They would’ve all left with the herds,” Bill said.

  “Do you know that for sure?” I countered, adding in flaps to slow the plane to near stall speed.

  He said nothing.

  I sighed. “Where’s that street I can land on, Bill?”

  He leaned forward more. “Birch Street,” he said as if I could read street signs from up here. “It’s just to the south of the dorms. We kept it clear in case we had to pull out.”

  “It’s east-west, right?” I asked, looking once more at his roughly drawn map.

  “What?”

  I made a motion with my hand. “Does the road go north and south or east and west?”

  “Oh, east and west. You can’t miss it. It’s the main street for the university.”

  As we neared the small university, I slowed the plane and dropped in as much flaps as I could without stalling. Once I had the street in sight, I nodded. “I’ve got it.”

  I frowned as I took in the university. During a typical scouting run, zeds dotted streets of any town I flew over. Here, other than the random zed crawling across the ground or a rotting corpse, I saw nothing. The entire university seemed devoid of zeds. “You guys see anything?” I asked.

  “Nothing yet. Just a few stragglers,” Jase said.

  “Same here,” Clutch said. “From what I can tell, those stragglers look pretty decrepit.”

  “You’re going past the street. Down there! Down there!”

  I flipped off the intercom but could still hear Bill’s yelling even through my headset. The street was narrow, only two lanes lined with trees and streetlamps. It had a ninety-degree curve on the eastern edge and a forty-five on the west. I could make it work, but there wasn’t much room for error, and no room for a late-decision go-around.

  Clutch squeezed my knee, and I turned. “You sure you want to try it?” he yelled since I’d turned off the intercom.

  I looked back down at the street. I had to make the call. If I continued to circle, the engine noise would draw all remaining zeds into the area. I glanced at Bill. His eyes were wide and pleading. It would’ve been easy to fly over and drop a bag, letting the survivors make their way to their families and friends on their own. But, if I were in Bill’s shoes, this close to my family…

  “Damn it,” I muttered and dropped in the rest of the flaps. There was no way I couldn’t not land. I may have lost my parents, but if it was Clutch or Jase down there, I would have to see for myself. Bill deserved the same.

  I lined up for a long final approach. I wanted to land as short as possible because neither the length nor the width of the street was forgiving for a botched landing. My grip was firm on the yoke. I had to get it right. The stall warning sounded, and the ground came up quickly. The wheels hit hard. The plane bounced before settling down. I stepped on the brakes to stop faster than I could with a taildragger.

  I pulled off my headset and looked around to find no zeds running out to greet us. I bit my lip. “Well, that wasn’t my finest landing.”

  “We didn’t crash, so I consider it a success,” Clutch said.

  Jase tapped my shoulder. “I’ll cover you while you get lined up for takeoff.”

  I nodded and opened the door. I brought my seat forward. He squeezed out from behind me and hopped outside. Bill leaned between Clutch and me as I started to ta
xi back the opposite direction I’d landed. Jase walked alongside the Cessna as I taxied, ready to take out any random zed that came at us.

  “What are you doing?” Bill asked. “You’re going past the dorms.”

  “We’ll check them out on foot. First, I need the plane ready in case we need to make a quick takeoff.”

  He muttered something and leaned back. Suddenly, I found myself pressed forward against the yoke as he squeezed passed me. “Hey!”

  Bill jumped out of the plane and ran back toward the dorms, carrying the bag of letters.

  “Idiot,” Clutch muttered.

  I shook my head. “He’s going to get himself killed.” I taxied the plane all the way back to the eastern edge of the street and turned around, setting the plane up for an immediate takeoff. “I’m half tempted to just leave him and head back.”

  As I cut the engine, Jase walked around the front, still scanning the area.

  Clutch grabbed his rifle.

  I put my hand on his forearm and fought to say the words I needed to say. “You should stay with the plane, in case we need to make a quick takeoff.” I inhaled before he had a chance to speak. “You know us. Jase and I won’t do anything stupid. We’re just going to check on the dorms, that’s it.”

  “I know. I trust both of you. It’s the other guy I don’t trust.”

  “We’ll be wheels up in ten minutes. You stay here and sweep for us in case zeds start trickling this way. Okay?”

  He sat there, gripping his rifle. After a moment, he hit his legs, startling me.

  “I hate this. I fucking hate this,” he said before tilting his head back against the headrest.

  My heart ached for him. “I know,” I said softly and touched his cheek. “This is a temporary inconvenience, that’s all. You’ll be walking soon. I know it. We just have to take it one day at a time.”

  His lips tightened. “I’ll see you in ten.”

  After a moment, I dropped my hand, unbuckled, grabbed my gear, and climbed out.

  “Be careful,” he said suddenly. “I’ve got a bad vibe about this place.”

  I gave a small nod and walked away, glancing back to see Clutch already focused on scanning the area.

  Jase came up to my side. Looking around, he gave an exaggerated shiver. “This place gives me the creeps. Everything’s been trampled. There’s not even a shrub left.”

  To my right was a parking lot filled with cars. Most were parked askew, as though they’d been forcibly shoved out of their parking space and into the spot next to them. A couple had even been rolled over. I hadn’t seen any mobile zeds, but no survivors came out to greet us, either. Both would’ve heard us fly over.

  I slung my spear onto my shoulder and kept my rifle ready. “Let’s make this quick.”

  We walked toward the dorms where Bill had headed. We took slow steps, constantly scanning our full three-sixty, though I knew Clutch had our six covered. While I wanted to get the hell out of there, I didn’t rush. Just because Bill had run in half-cocked didn’t mean that we had to put ourselves at risk.

  A zed without legs reached out like a beggar. I stepped to the side, and it tried to drag itself to us. I didn’t waste energy killing it; it was in such bad shape that the only way it could latch onto a victim was if someone fell on it.

  The ominous feeling in my gut grew worse as we approached the first dorm. The doors were propped wide open by a mangled corpse. Bones, tufts of hair, and cloth shreds were about all that remained.

  Jase and I eyed each other. With a deep inhalation, he stepped inside first. Glass crunched under my boots as I stepped around the corpse. We walked as carefully and quietly as we could, pausing to listen after every few steps.

  Something fell on the floor in a nearby room. I swung my rifle around.

  We moved as one toward the open door. I listened for any other sounds, but could only hear movement in the one room. When we reached the door, I twisted around and aimed. I lowered my weapon with a sigh. “Jesus, Bill. I nearly blew your head off.”

  He continued to rifle through papers on the table. “They’re not here. I don’t understand it. There’s no note.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before he looked up and over his shoulder. “They must still be in the student center.”

  “Hold up,” I said, reaching for him. That no one had cleaned up the body in the building they lived was a serious red flag. “They probably had to run and didn’t get a chance to get back here to leave a note.”

  “Bill, hold on, man,” Jase echoed.

  He pushed open the door. “It’s lunchtime. Everyone eats at the student center.” He headed outside.

  “He’s a real pain in the ass,” I muttered, not caring if Bill heard me or not.

  “The idea of ditching him and heading back is getting pretty appealing,” Jase added.

  I glanced at my watch. Six minutes to go. I sucked in a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

  We followed Bill as he jogged down a sidewalk and up to a brick building with large glass windows.

  “Hold up,” I said and grabbed his arm before he opened the door.

  He yanked out of my grip. “Everyone will be inside. It’s okay.”

  “Look,” Jase said and pointed.

  “What?” Bill asked, and then he frowned. He cupped his hands against the glass and squinted. He let out a gasp. “No.”

  Inside, the student center was a mess. Tables were overturned, chairs were scattered. There was nobody eating lunch. There was nobody, period.

  “They must’ve run,” I said hopefully.

  Bill grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. As he ran inside, I lowered my head and shook it slowly. After taking a deep breath, I followed, staying protectively at Jase’s side.

  There were no zeds, not even any bodies littering the floors. The ominous feeling in my gut had morphed into fear.

  Bill was doing a three-sixty, looking around. “Katie!” he called out. “Jan!”

  “Sh,” I hissed. “Keep it down.”

  A thump came from somewhere off to my left, confirming my suspicion. There were zeds still around here, all right.

  A smile broke out on Bill’s face, and the tension fell from his shoulders. “Oh, they’re in the theater. Thank God.”

  “Don’t,” I warned.

  Bill turned back to us. “It’s all right. The theater is our emergency shelter. They’ve probably been staying in there until someone came to give them the all-clear.”

  “Then why is there a steel pipe through the door?” Jase asked, but Bill either didn’t hear or didn’t care because he rushed across the open space and to that exact door.

  “I don’t like this,” I said, slowly walking toward Bill.

  “I think we should get out of here,” Jase said.

  “Agreed.”

  “I’m coming!” Bill called out and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t understand. This is part of our emergency procedures. Someone probably locked them in here for safety, so that zeds couldn’t get to them. But now they can’t get out unless we unlock it for them.”

  “Then why didn’t they lock the door from the other side,” Jase asked dubiously.

  Bill slid the pipe out from the handles and pulled open the door. He stood there, staring into the darkness. “Katie? Jan?”

  Moans echoed. Jase and I both lunged for the door the same time a zed tumbled from the darkness. Bill cried out and shoved it down. Jase slammed the door shut, and I slid the bar back into place. I spun on my heel to see Bill holding the zed back with his hands pressing against its shoulders.

  Hundreds, if not thousands, of fists pounded against the metal door. It sounded like the entire theater was filled with zeds.

  Jase swung his machete, taking off the top of the zed’s skull, and it collapsed.

  “Holy shit,” Jase said, sucking in a breath.

  “Yeah,” I said breathlessly before turning around to find Bill frozen behind us. After wiping sweat from my face,
I grabbed his arm. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

  Both Jase and I pulled at him, but he dug in his heels. “The theater was safe. No windows. How’d the zeds find them?”

  “Someone was probably infected before going in there,” I answered.

  “That door isn’t going to hold them for long,” Jase tacked on. “We need to get out of here. Because those are going to be some fresh and fast zeds in there.”

  Bill collapsed onto the floor with his head between his knees, hugging himself. “I never should’ve left. I should’ve come earlier.”

  Jase and I looked at each other, hopeless. Neither of us spoke. I didn’t voice the truth, that his family had probably never stood a chance.

  The sounds of fists pounding against the doors echoed through the center. The bar through the door handles clanged as the door moved against it in a rhythmic wave. It would take minutes, at most, for them to break free.

  I nudged Bill. “We have to go.”

  He shook his head. “What’s the use in going on?” He looked up, tears running down his cheeks. “It’s my fault. I should’ve come for them.” His voice grew louder with every word, and I tried to shush him. Bill shook his fist at the theater. “You bastards! You’re all bastards!”

  I eyed Jase and he nodded. “We need to go now,” he said, enunciating every word.

  I nodded. We each grabbed one of Bill’s arms and pulled him to his feet.

  He tore away. “No!” He fell back onto his butt and sobbed.

  I pursed my lips. “Bill, it’s not your fault what happened.”

  “There’s nothing you can do, Bill. Your family would want you to save yourself.”

  Bill didn’t respond, instead he continued to sob.

  We tried to pull him up again, but he shoved away and fell back down. The zeds’ moaning and pounding were growing louder, echoing throughout the student center.

  This time when I eyed Jase, his features hardened, and he shook his head slowly. I swallowed and glanced down at Bill one more time. The man had reached his breaking point. He’d chosen to give up rather than to keep on living. I wanted to yank him along with us, but I knew it would be pointless. If we took the time to drag him, we’d never get out of there alive.