Dead Drop Series (Book 1): Dead Drop (Rise of the Elites)

by K. S. Black

  “¡Chinga tu madre, cabron! Why don’t you come out like a man and stop pissing your pants?” The Mexican accent was thick. The taunt was followed by a peal of laughter.

  With his back against a set of shelves, Cooper rose slowly. He lined up his sights and controlled his breathing. Another potted plant exploded behind him, but he remained steady. “You suck! Where’d you learn how to shoot? Your abuelita?”

  Cooper took another breath, not worried about the shooter inside the store. He fired a single round from his Tavor, hitting one of the men on his Humvee. The man fell to the ground. Cooper wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive. The other man jumped off and hid behind the vehicle.

  He lined up a second shot and took out the driver of the pickup parked next to the Humvee. The man slumped out of view, but Cooper assumed he was alive. Making his way towards the door, he scanned the store but couldn’t find a shooter. Once outside, he made sure he wasn’t going to get shot from behind and popped ten rounds of automatic fire through the engine compartment of the pickup. He pulled a knife from the pocket on his right calf and punctured the front tires.

  Two gangbangers ran out of the store toward a closed up hotdog stand. He fired five shots but missed. They disappeared behind the stand.

  A black SUV pulled up to the curb but didn’t come to a complete stop. The passenger door flew open and the two gangbangers from behind the hotdog stand dove in, followed by a third man who had been inside the store. The vehicle picked up speed. The passengers emptied their guns in Cooper’s direction before it turned away.

  Stepping behind a large column, he changed out his empty magazine. With most of his body protected by the column, he shot blindly at the SUV.

  The rear window shattered, but the SUV continued to race across the parking lot. When it got to the street, the vehicle headed west. The driver stuck his head out the window and shouted something Cooper couldn’t understand. But he understood the message the gangbanger was sending with his middle finger salute.

  * * *

  After retrieving his shopping cart, Cooper made a beeline to the Humvee. The first man Cooper had shot looked about twentysomething. He was on the ground next to the rear tire on the passenger side. Cooper nudged his head with the Tavor to make sure he was dead.

  In the driver’s seat of the pickup truck was another young gangbanger about the same age. He had an entrance wound under his left eye, next to his nose but was alive and trying to pick up the revolver on the seat next to his thigh. He was having difficulty moving his arms. Another entrance wound was mid-chest. The bullet must have hit his spinal cord.

  “There’s enough for everyone. Why are you trying to kill me?”

  “Tucson belongs to us! I’ve killed many gringos and fucked your women. You’re all going to die.” He tried to put on a show of machismo but coughed up blood instead.

  Cooper opened the passenger door. He grabbed the revolver and put it in the dying man’s hand. “Shoot me.”

  The gangbanger looked down at the gun as if he was willing his arm and his hand to work. He remained motionless, but his body twitched involuntarily. “You’re dead, puta!” Blood sprayed from his mouth as he tried to yell.

  Cooper didn’t bother to respond. He replaced the propane tanks on his roof rack and used one of the tarps and some rope to make sure everything stayed in place.

  When he was done, he went to the hotdog stand and removed the white board and brought it back to the Humvee. Fishing around in the glove compartment, he found the permanent marker he was looking for. He erased the menu items from the board and wrote:

  Your friend was still alive when I set the car on fire.

  He cried like a little girl.

  I know who you are.

  If I ever see you again, I will kill you!

  I am not alone.

  He found a pair of latex gloves in one of his pockets. He put them on before he pulled the filthy bandana off the gangbanger’s head and wiped the blood from his ashen face. With the bloody cloth, he drew a giant smiley face under the message.

  He turned the board so that the young man could read the message. When the words registered, the dying man tried to scream, but a sickening gurgle escaped his mouth instead.

  * * *

  Cooper moved the Humvee into the parking lot a good distance away from the pickup. He left the sign propped up against a light pole so it would be visible. The other dead gangbanger was lying near the pickup. He hefted the body into the truck next to his friend who had faded into oblivion moments before.

  Drawing a Kimber from its holster, he shot the gas tank twice and stuffed the bloody bandana partway inside before lighting the end with a lighter he fished from his jacket pocket.

  He hurried to the Humvee and closed the door, not proud of what he had done. Maybe they would keep their distance now. He couldn’t turn away as the flame snaked its way under the pickup igniting the gas tank and engulfing the truck with fire.

  CHAPTER 29

  May 13 – near Austin, TX

  The dirt road leading to Jake’s family home stretched out in front of him. The Double J Ranch sat on two hundred and twenty-five acres of good grazing land. The front pasture where the horses were usually kept during the day was empty. He sucked in a breath and prepared himself for the worst. Better to expect the worst than be surprised by it, his father always said.

  It had been over a year since he’d seen his parents and his kid sister, Charlotte. He had saved up enough leave to spend the entire month of December at home, but his Afghanistan deployment had been extended. His mother and sister cried on Skype when he had told them he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. His dad even brushed away a tear. The old man had only cried once before that he knew of.

  After Afghanistan and some post-deployment reintegration, a couple of buddies convinced him to join them in Maui for a few days of R&R to get into a better headspace before heading back to Twenty-nine Palms for advanced training and testing of the new LAV-25s. They’d party and maybe get laid. He swore to his parents he’d be home for the Fourth of July. Two more months. He’d been counting the days.

  The air was hot and dry when he got out of the LAV. He took a quick look around for Duke and Lady, his father’s Australian shepherds. They weren’t there to greet him. Maybe they were inside. He called out for his mother and father. The silence that he had experienced at almost every stop during his trip seemed more unsettling here.

  Uneasiness crept its way up to his chest from the pit of his stomach. The screen door burst open. His mother ran towards him. Her arms reached out for him as she ran. She came at him so fast he didn’t know what was happening. Instead of the hugs and kisses he was expecting, she had wrapped her arms around him and tried to sink her teeth into his neck, but her teeth connected with the edge of his body armor.

  Reflexively, he rotated his body and pushed her to the ground. Not wanting to believe what had happened to her, he stepped forward to help her up. She lunged at him, her blood red eyes focused on him.

  “Mom! Stop!”

  She shrieked at him. He moved away from her and pointed his .45 at her head. Tears ran down his face. “Mama, no. Please, no . . .” When she was an arm’s length away, he pulled the trigger, and she crumpled to the ground. He dropped to his knees inches from her lifeless body.

  After he regained his composure, he walked to the house. From outside the screen door, he called for his father and his younger sister. No dogs. No voices. Only silence. Moving frantically through the house, he searched each room. What was left of his father lay in his parents’ bed. He shut the door and had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting.

  He couldn’t find Charlotte anywhere in the house. When they were younger, he’d sneak into her room, move things around, or throw his dirty socks on her bed just to watch her freak out. She’d never leave her room in the state of chaos he found it in. Clothes, shoes, and books were scattered across the floor along with two suitcases that she must have decided were too large to carry
.

  Was she hiding out somewhere until things got better? Did the evacuation buses make it out here? Even if they did, there was no way she’d get on one. She was too smart—smarter than him.

  After Charlotte had graduated from college, she came back home to help their parents run the ranch. He wanted to see the world outside of Texas. But in some ways, he had envied her.

  Tears welled up in his eyes again. He couldn’t stop them even if he tried so he sat down on her bed and sobbed.

  * * *

  Jake stripped off his cammies. He found his father’s coveralls hanging on a peg near the work bench in the shed. His old waders were in the shed too, right where he had left them. He put those on over top of the coveralls and pulled on a pair of waterproof work gloves, before retrieving his gas mask from the LAV.

  He laid his parents to rest in the side pasture with a view of the entire ranch and used river stones from his mother’s flower garden to mark their graves.

  Too many times to count, he and his father had stood in the same spot looking out at the land and the livestock. His father had wanted him to take over the ranch one day. But his heart wasn’t in it. The only thing he had ever wanted to be was a marine. No one could change his mind.

  Back inside the house, he gathered up the bedding, area rugs, and other contaminated items and carried everything outside. He doused the items with lighter fluid and lit the pile on fire. Next, he stripped off the waders, coveralls, gloves, and even his underwear. He threw everything but the waders into the fire and kept his gas mask on. He put his cammies back on and watched everything burn.

  After the fire died, he went to the kitchen and pulled on a pair of yellow rubber gloves that his mother kept under the sink. They were snug, but he still managed to get them on. He traded his gas mask for a disposable N-95 mask he had found. He opened every window to air out the house. For the next five hours, he cleaned and scrubbed the counters, floors, door knobs and every other surface his mother or father might have touched throughout the entire house.

  When he was done, he headed to the bathroom. Exhausted, he sat down inside the tub. His father had put in a solar powered water system several years back, so at least he could take a warm shower. He turned on the water and let the spray hit his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about Charlotte. Where was she? She was alive—she had to be.

  CHAPTER 30

  May 14 – Tucson

  “I think I saw something,” Kevin said. “Back up to that house with the three saguaro cactuses in the front. Look.” He pointed at the window. “He’s still there, top window on the right. Do you see him?”

  Cooper got out of the Humvee with the binoculars. “I don’t see anyone.” He had parked on the road in front of the house.

  “I know I saw a boy. We should see if he needs help.”

  Cooper handed the binoculars to Kevin and a picked up his Tavor. "I'll go check."

  “Hey dude, you can’t go in there with a freakin’ rifle. Give me that, or you’ll scare him.”

  “You’re joking, right?

  “If it’s a kid, you’re going to scare him.”

  “He’s going to be scared already. What if he’s infected? And what if he’s not the only one in there?”

  “I’ll back you up.” Kevin stuck his hand out for the rifle.

  “Damn it, Kevin.” Cooper handed over his Tavor against his better judgement. But Kevin might be right about scaring the kid if he went up to the house with the Tavor. He had his Kimbers anyway.

  He walked across the xeriscaped front yard to the house. He knocked, waited, and knocked again. He turned to face Kevin. “Well, smartass, what should I do now?”

  “Knock again. Maybe he’s too scared to open the door. Tell him you want to help.”

  After a second try with the same results, he pressed his face up to the glass of the living room window in time to see a boy he estimated to be about twelve running towards him. There was no time to get out of the way. The impact was greater than he anticipated as the boy broke through the window and knocked him on his back. Glass shards rained down on them.

  The boy rolled past Cooper into a small island of decorative rocks and barrel cacti. The rocks bloodied his hands and bare knees. Cactus spines covered his right side. But he continued moving, not a single whine or a whimper for his injuries.

  Cooper got to his hands and knees. The boy was already on his feet and charged at him.

  “Shoot him! Shoot him!”

  Kevin was frozen in place and wide-eyed inside the Humvee.

  Grabbing both Kimbers, Cooper fired five shots at the boy while scrambling to his feet. None of the bullets hit center mass, but they knocked the boy backwards onto the ground. Shaking his head, he got up. Blood oozed from three gunshot wounds to his upper body.

  “Kevin, damn it! Shoot him!” Cooper was almost to the Humvee.

  “How’s he getting up?”

  “I don’t care! Shoot!”

  The boy squinted and pawed at his eyes. His scalp was visible through patches of dark, oily hair. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out; blood gurgled up instead, and it dripped down his chin.

  Kevin fired the Python but missed. The boy’s head whipped towards the Humvee. He charged at Kevin who was leaning out the window trying to aim in again.

  The boy’s head jerked backwards as Cooper rounded the Humvee on the driver’s side. He opened the door and spat out his words between ragged breaths. “What were you waiting for?”

  “He was just a kid.” Kevin stared at the gun in his shaking hand. “I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s nothing like the movies.”

  Cooper got in the Humvee and calmed himself down before he spoke again. “Young or old it doesn’t matter. Once someone is infected with Dante's and survives, we become prey. It’s us or them.”

  He took the gun out of Kevin’s hand and placed it on the console between them. “You’re right. It’s nothing like the movies. But I don’t see any alternatives to what we’re doing. I’m not going to lie down and let them come get me. Are you?”

  * * *

  Cooper entered the house first and wanted to use the opportunity to learn more about the infected. Kevin trailed a few steps behind. Kevin dry heaved with his respirator on but remained inside.

  Trapped in the house, the boy ate the decomposing bodies of his parents to stay alive. A professional photograph of the three of them hung on the wall. Smiling faces from a happier time.

  What remained of the father’s body lay near the front door along with two cloth shopping bags. A gaping hole in man’s upper torso exposed the lack of internal organs. Only his intestines remained, and they lay in a blackened, rotting heap next to his body. His right thigh had been eaten to the bone. The rest of his leg was missing.

  Kevin gave the body a wide berth. Empty cans were scattered across the floor, some with their jagged lids still attached. He grabbed an umbrella from beside the door and used the tip to pick up an empty can from off the floor.

  “Check this out. Looks like he ripped the top off with his teeth. They must have some problem-solving abilities left. Damn, they’ll eat pretty much anything as long as it’s some kind of food.” Kevin held up the empty green bean can for him to see. Then he tossed it and the umbrella aside.

  Cooper headed up the stairs. “You coming?”

  “I don’t know how much more gore I can handle, dude. I’m going to stay down here. Please hurry.”

  Upstairs, he found the mother’s body in the boy’s room, near the bed and in roughly the same condition as the father’s. He spoke as he descended the stairs. "I found his mother. She doesn't show any signs of being infected either. The kid probably killed her first. Then he attacked his father after he returned home with the groceries."

  “Do you think a lot of infected are stuck inside their houses or in buildings because they can’t figure out how to get out?”

  “Maybe. I guess they could be like animals in that respect. They might try to claw their way
out, but the thought of breaking a window or opening a door is beyond their reasoning abilities. Unless they see an opportunity. I don’t know, though. I don’t want to underestimate what they’re capable of. I do know that the boy was so focused on me that he probably didn’t even notice the window.”

  * * *

  After leaving the house, Cooper put on a pair of latex gloves and laid the two spoons he had taken from the kitchen on the ground next to the boy.

  Kevin eyed the spoons from a few feet away but didn’t ask any questions.

  Dressed in pajama bottoms covered in brown stains, the boy smelled like death with a vague odor of rotting bananas and an even stronger odor of human waste. Part of his forehead had caved in from the bullet impact. His mouth was still intact although his lips had deep cuts crusted over with blood. His bottom lip was split down the middle.

  Not wanting to take the chance that the dead boy’s jagged teeth would clamp down on his fingers, Cooper used the spoons to pry his jaw apart so he could get a better look inside.

  Kevin hesitated before moving closer. The boy’s bloodshot eyes focused vacantly in the distance. “His eyes are practically glowing red, and look at all those little veins around his pupils. That’s just gross.”

  “You think that’s messed up—look at this.” All the boy’s front teeth were chipped or broken. Two were missing.

  “Shit.” Kevin brought his hand near his mouth but quickly moved it away.

  “That’s not what I want you to see. Step in closer.”

  Cooper opened the boy’s mouth wider.

  “What the fuck is that? That’s not right.” He backed up a few steps.

  The boy’s mouth was a dentist’s nightmare of broken, chipped, and split teeth with small strands of rotting flesh caught in between the gaps. Most surprising were the supernumerary teeth. Behind the first row of teeth was another row that looked like small, pointed chisels. Behind the second row was a collection of miniature sized molars that covered the rest of his hard pallet.

  “Do you think he was born that way?”