Dead Summit (Book 1): Dead Summit

by Loubier, Daniel

  And then he stood there, motionless except for the heaving in and out of his chest as he tried to control his breathing. Grace and Charlie stood away from him, farther up the trail, huddled together. Grace thought about what was going to happen next. She remembered what Joe had said earlier about being bitten by one of those things. She wondered if in fact this meant that Joe was going to “turn,” whatever that meant.

  Joe continued to stare off over the cliff. He was slowly calming down; his breathing had returned to normal. He now seemed pensive as he looked off into the distance. Grace tried to imagine what he was thinking.

  “You know,” he said, a tear forming in the corner of his eye, “I could have turned and walked the other way back there by the hut.” He must have been referring to when he met them in the woods earlier in the morning. Grace wondered if he regretted his decision to join them. He turned his head, and looked directly at Grace.

  “But if I did, you guys wouldn’t know how to handle these things, right?” The slightest hint of a smile began to form on his lips.

  “We wouldn’t have made it this far without you,” Grace said humbly. “Charlie’s leg...he may not be able to make it very far.” Her voice wavered as tears began to fill her eyes. She looked down at the gun and held it out by her side. “And I don’t even know how to use this thing. I don’t—”

  “It’s okay,” Joe cut her off softly. “You don’t have to.”

  Grace just nodded. Joe’s eyes welled up again.

  “You guys will be just fine,” he said, wiping away a tear as he spoke. “You just stay on the trail, okay? No more venturing off into the woods.” Grace nodded. She was sobbing much harder now.

  She finally understood.

  “What’s going on?” Charlie asked. He looked over at Grace. Tears streamed down her cheeks and over her lips. He looked at Joe. “You’re not coming to the summit?” Joe looked away without responding. “Where are you going?”

  He turned to Charlie. “You’ve got a strong woman here,” he said. Charlie narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, confused.

  Joe looked back to Grace. “You think you can do better with this?” he asked, holding up the machete.

  Grace hardly responded. She simply reached out her hand. Joe wiped the machete along the leg of his shorts, removing as much of the blood as he could. Grace turned her head away and squeezed her eyes closed, tried to hold back the river of tears that fought against her eyelids.

  “Why are you giving us the machete?” Charlie asked. “If you’re not coming to the summit, you’re still going to need protection on the way back down.”

  Grace looked at Charlie. He turned to her, a quizzical look on his face. Grace only half-smiled as she reached out and held his hand. Charlie turned back to Joe.

  “Are you going back?” he asked.

  Joe didn’t respond. He finished wiping the blade and sheathed the machete. He walked up the trail, removed the weapon from his waist, and handed it to Grace. She accepted it reluctantly. He then rested his bloodied hands on his hips and stared at the weapon in Grace’s hands.

  “My father told me this might happen one day,” Joe said. He stepped back to the edge of the trail. He looked out into the distance, seemingly admiring the view.

  “He told me what to do if I should ever be injured by one of them,” Joe said. “He made me promise. He told me, ‘Joey, you do what I tell you, or else you ain’t helping anybody.’”

  Charlie was visibly confused now. He stepped toward Joe.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he said. “What are you doing?”

  Joe closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. He exhaled slowly and held his arms out like wings. His fingers splayed out and he let his head tilt back and forth with the swirling wind. He looked like every image of Jesus hanging from the cross.

  He opened his eyes again and stared at Charlie.

  “I’m saving your lives,” he said.

  It happened so quickly. Joe stepped forward. Charlie lunged, a reflexive reaction to Joe leaping over the edge. But Joe’s body fell fast into the abyss. Grace wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching as Joe approached the bottom of the ravine. His body tumbled in the air as he descended faster and faster, closing in on the hard, granite bottom.

  Seconds after he stepped off the cliff, Joe made contact with a large, smooth boulder below—headfirst, just as he’d hoped. His body exploded against the rock like a bug on a windshield. Even from this altitude, they could still hear the bones shatter against the solid ground. Grace finally turned away upon impact and buried her face in her hands. Charlie, still shocked, held her close as he stared at the blood cascading down the rock. Having heard the sound of Joe’s body hitting ground from up high, Grace was certain that others would have heard it too.

  “Come on,” Charlie said absently. Grace was sobbing hard. Her tears had begun to mix with the sweat that had soaked through his shirt sleeve. “We have to go.”

  Grace wasn’t sure where Charlie had found the energy to move (Adrenaline? Fear?), but somehow he’d stood up and was now helping her to move on. Grace was sure his knee ached like hell, as he continued on with a severe limp, but she was mentally broken, and willing to let Charlie play the man this time.

  And though they had spent just a short time with him, Joe had served as their protector when they needed him most.

  As they made their way up the loose rock and pebble, a thought crossed Grace’s mind: Who would be their protector now?

  Chapter 10

  The sun was still missing, stowed behind a cloud-filled sky, and it was hard to determine the time of day. To Grace, it felt like it was past noon. Neither she nor Charlie had a watch, but she was certain they’d been climbing for at least an hour since Joe had leaped off the trail to his death.

  The temperature had also dropped another ten degrees. The forecast had predicted low 40s, but combined with the wind chill, Grace knew it was much colder. They certainly weren’t dressed for this part of the climb, either—Charlie in his cargo shorts and T-shirt, Grace in her track shorts and tank top. They had expected to make the three-hour climb from the hut to the summit in half the time. What they hadn’t anticipated was running into Joe. They also didn’t expect to see so many of the undead this high up in altitude.

  The journey to the summit had left them drained of nearly all their energy. They still hadn’t eaten a thing since the night before. Grace’s insides churned and bubbled, twisted and gurgled. The retching she’d experienced for much of the day had abated, but now dehydration was a factor. They hadn’t found any water during the trip up the mountain. Neither of them was salivating. Grace’s throat was sore and dry, and her muscles were beginning to tighten. Charlie had simply decided to not talk, assuming he would save energy and retain fluids that way.

  Grace’s headache was also still very much in charge of her movements. She tried to time her steps in between throbs. Sometimes she would lose her footing and have to reach quickly for another rock to step on. And when she lost her rhythm, she’d double over, folding up onto the ground as she strained against the disabling hurt that surged through her.

  She began to pray.

  She prayed that her family would never have to know what happened to her. She didn’t want them to have to bear the burden of knowing what she and Charlie had gone through. She prayed that they’d both make it home safe, that they would have children who would never know what happened here, now or at any other time in history.

  And then, in her mind, she spoke directly to God. She asked Him why he would allow such a thing to happen. She asked God why He would allow these people to be resurrected from the dead to serve no other purpose than hunting and devouring the living.

  She cursed Him. She called Him a coward for not having the courage to save her and Charlie from this evil.

  She called Him a bully, because bullies preyed on the weak, injured, and less fortunate. And, by definition, she and Charlie were we
ak and injured. They were certainly less than fortunate, as they weren’t equipped to fight off the undead. They had Charlie’s gun and Joe’s machete, but two weapons, one of which would soon run out of bullets, would be no match for the numbers of undead she dreaded they might find once they reached the summit.

  Then she challenged God. She challenged Him to provide a sign that everything would work out in their favor. She demanded that He make an offering of good faith, anything that might give them reason to believe this would all be over soon, and they would leave this place unharmed.

  Grace had become so consumed by her anger and defiance toward God that she hadn’t noticed her pace had quickened considerably. She also hadn’t noticed that Charlie was now laughing.

  What the hell is he laughing about? What the hell is so fucking funny?

  She continued to climb uphill on her hands and knees with her head down, driven now only by her anger.

  “Look up, Grace,” Charlie said. His voice was cracking, but there was a slight resolve in his tone. Grace stopped climbing and stubbornly looked up. Her back muscles, stiff and dehydrated, fought against her. But what she saw brought a wave of relief, a warm sensation that crashed over her, from her head down her back and through her legs.

  They had reached the summit.

  For a moment, she wondered if it was a mirage. She closed her eyes for ten seconds, took several deep breaths, and opened her eyes again. And smiled. Tears of relief filled her eyes. She saw Charlie and noticed a tear fall down his cheek. They’d made it. Alive.

  There was a long wrap-around boardwalk with a large building in its center: the summit shops. Along the boardwalk at intervals were several lookouts that offered views of the landscape. Immediately in front of Grace and Charlie was a small parking lot. Those who were unable to climb the mountain could drive up the access road. The road ran from the parking lot, around the opposite side of the summit, and down to the base of the mountain.

  But Grace noticed something else, something that quickly turned her joy into trepidation.

  The summit was deserted.

  There were no other climbers, no other hikers that they could see. The summits of oft-hiked mountains like this one typically generated a lot of daily traffic, however; on this day, there was none.

  Grace felt another hunger pang slice through her stomach. They had to find some food and water.

  “Let’s get inside,” she said, throwing Charlie’s arm over her shoulders and helping him to the building.

  They entered through a glass door into what appeared to be a small outdoor recreation boutique. The lights were off, as if the store was closed. There were no employees. On the far left wall, backpacks and Camelbaks hung from various fixtures. There was a small selection of hiking shoes and ropes. On the floor in front of them, three small hiking tents were set up for display along with two sleeping mattresses. Ice climbing equipment hung from the other wall to their right. Ahead of them, past the tents, was the check-out counter.

  Grace walked toward the back of the store. She had hoped there would be some kind of cafeteria inside, but she was willing to settle for any type of sustenance the store might provide. When she reached the glass counter, she looked around, hoping to find a display of Snickers bars, peanuts, anything.

  There was nothing. The feeling of despair once again crept up her back. She felt the stress and disappointment spread over her shoulders and through her neck like a pair of strong hands pushing her down. Her palms and forehead began to sweat. Her stomach twisted around like a damp washcloth being wrung out. They were in desperate need of food—or at the very least, water.

  She closed her eyes and tried to keep from panicking. She would be of no use to herself or Charlie if she was unable to keep it together now. After all, she’d come too far to give up.

  She rested her hands on the glass counter and took several deep breaths. When she opened her eyes, she saw something through the glass cabinet. Just past the counter, behind the register on the floor, was an unopened box of energy bars. Excitement and relief filled her chest. She turned to Charlie. He was standing over by the ice climbing equipment, wielding an ice axe.

  “Charlie!” she whispered loudly. She could barely contain her excitement. Charlie whipped his head around in her direction. She waved him over to the counter. “I found food!” she whispered again. Charlie dropped the ice axe and raced across the store.

  Grace walked quickly around the glass counter, toward the register. She knelt down on the floor and opened the box. There were at least a dozen bars. She grabbed a handful and stood up. She spread them on the counter in front of them both.

  She and Charlie each grabbed one and fiendishly opened the wrappers. They stared at each other as they inhaled their first bars. Grace even used her fingers to collect the crumbs left in the wrapper. She picked up another one, tore open the foil, and bit into it. This time she savored the taste, the feeling of food in her mouth. It might as well have been prime rib—all she was missing was a glass of pinot noir. Charlie was enjoying his second bar, too.

  They continued to stare at each other, watching each other chew every bite. Grace smiled and pushed the chewed-up bar through her teeth, her eyes wide and crazy. Charlie nearly spit out his bar when he laughed. Now we just need something to drink, Grace thought.

  She ducked down below the counter, next to the glass cabinet. She saw a bottle of Poland Spring sitting inside. She tried to slide the glass door open, but the cabinet was locked.

  “Think we can smash this open without anyone knowing?” she asked.

  Charlie tapped a fingernail on the counter.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” Grace asked.

  Charlie tapped again.

  Grace stood up abruptly. “What?” she asked.

  The grin on Charlie’s face was gone. His mouth was still full, but he’d stopped chewing. He stared at Grace for a second before his eyes darted left and then came back to hers. Grace looked to her right.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  The woman held a rifle aimed at Grace’s head. Grace stood still. She averted her eyes so as not to stare directly into the barrel. Oh my God, this is how it’s going to end, she thought. Her eyes moved over to Charlie. She searched his face for any clue as to how they were going to get out of there. But Charlie didn’t have any answers. He simply stood there, motionless.

  It had been about fifteen seconds before Grace realized she hadn’t taken a breath. “We came from the hut,” she blurted out, her voice low. “We haven’t eaten since last night. We’re starving and thirsty.” She continued to stare at Charlie, waiting for the woman to respond. “Please don’t kill us,” she said.

  “You two have any followers on your way up here?” the woman asked. Grace turned her head slightly, her eyebrows scrunched. She and Charlie exchanged a look of bemusement. Grace shook her head and shrugged, not sure what to say.

  “Zombies!” the woman said, her voice louder now. “Did any of them follow you up here?”

  “I don’t...think so,” Grace said confused. “I thought they were ‘undead?’”

  “What do you think a zombie is?” the woman asked.

  “We ran into a few of them,” Charlie cut in, “but we managed to kill them all.”

  “You killed them? All of them?” the woman asked dubiously. “And just how’d you manage that?”

  “I have a gun,” Charlie said.

  “Congratulations,” the woman said. “Drop it on the ground. Slowly.” Charlie reached behind his back and carefully removed the gun. “Nothing fancy, or your girl gets two in the head,” the woman said. Charlie dropped the gun on the floor and pushed it toward the woman using his foot. “And I assume you used a machete?” the woman asked Grace. Grace shook her head. “Uh-huh. And do you mind explaining that?”

  “Well, we had a third,” Charlie said. He struggled to find the words to explain what had happened to Joe. “But...he didn’t make it.”

  “Wonderful
,” the woman said. “And is he out there running around now, trying to find something that looks like us to eat?” she asked.

  “No,” Grace said, defensively. Her fear started to turn into anger over the woman’s incessant and superfluous line of questioning. “He jumped off a cliff and smashed his body into the bottom of the ravine.”

  “Smart man,” the woman said. “Maybe smarter if he had taken you both with him.”

  Grace had had enough, her patience worn thin. If this woman was going to kill them, she would have done it by now.

  She turned to face her. “Are you planning on shooting us? Because clearly we’re not two of those things. And your little power trip is getting old. We’re hungry, we’re thirsty and we’re tired. And we’ve been fighting those fucking monsters all morning with nothing but pure adrenaline.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes. Grace could feel her stare, as if she was looking through her soul. Grace tried to hide her nerves, but she could feel her heart pounding against her ribs.

  The woman lowered the rifle, and a smile began to crease one side of her mouth.

  “All right, get in here. I’ve got drinks and food in the office.”

  She turned and walked back into the small room behind the register. Grace and Charlie stood still for a moment. When the woman no longer felt their presence, she stopped and turned around.

  “You coming?”

  Grace shot Charlie a look of concern. He nodded slowly. I hope you’re right, Grace thought.

  Chapter 11

  The woman introduced herself as Rose. Rose was very fit for her age, which Grace estimated to be early to mid-forties. She had arrived at the summit earlier in the week and was staying for two weeks total. She explained that summit employees often worked weekly or biweekly shifts.