Dying Days Ultimate Box Set 1

by Armand Rosamilia

  He made his way along the building and across Palm Harbor Parkway to a cluster of buildings that had been condominiums in a former life. The buildings were arranged in a “U” shape and he walked behind the easternmost building, being careful not to get too close to doors and windows.

  Separating the end building from the bridge was an eight-foot high row of thick hedges. He paused at the corner of the building and checked the area for undesirables. When he was certain he was not walking into a dangerous situation he trotted to the hedge and knelt to scan the area.

  Seeing no signs of danger, he low-walked slowly to the west, along the hedge line.

  * * * * *

  Ike and Darlene crouched at the parapet assessing the situation.

  “We can hop over the wall here, get to that hedge and move to the far end,” Ike said.

  “Then behind the far building, out to the road, across, and approach the compound from the southeast,” Darlene finished.

  “Right on,” Ike said. “Let’s brief John and Angel.”

  They scrambled back to the toll booth and informed John and Angel of the plan.

  “Angel and I will take this side of the hedge, you two take the other side,” Ike said.

  They all nodded their understanding and Ike took Angel by the hand and led her to the barrier.

  “It’s about an eight-foot drop,” he said. “When you hit the ground, roll with it and get to the hedge as fast as you can.”

  “Okay,” she said, with no trace of fear.

  Ike helped her over the barrier and followed. They met at the hedge and Ike gave her a shhh sign.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “Stay low, move slowly and keep an eye on our six.”

  “Our what?” she asked.

  “Our six,” he said. “Six-o’clock…behind us.”

  “Oh, got it.”

  He took her hand and they started walking east.

  * * * * *

  Darlene and John made it to the hedge and began moving west.

  Thirty feet to their right stood the condo building. Most of the windows were broken, doors hung crookedly on hinges and stucco had fallen off in chunks.

  “I’ll bet we can get a good deal on one of these units,” Darlene said.

  “You asking me to play house with you?” John asked. “I’m not that kind of guy.”

  “You are if I tell you so,” Darlene quipped.

  “Yes, dear,” John said, reaching back to squeeze her hand. “Now, can we can the chit-chat?”

  “Consider it canned.”

  They moved slowly along the hedges, John in front, Darlene watching their back and keeping an eye on the condos.

  After ten minutes John stopped and dropped to his belly. Darlene nearly tripped over him.

  “What the hell?” she asked.

  “Shhh. There’s a bend in the hedge line fifty feet ahead—can’t see around it. You stay here. I’ll make sure it’s clear.”

  “Go for it,” she said.

  He belly crawled away, leaving her to look at the empty condos.

  * * * * *

  Brewski’s legs were beginning to tremble from walking in the slow crouch. He stopped to rest at a large tree, standing between it and the hedges. He wiped the sweat from his head and wished he had a cold beer.

  After a minute or two he returned to his crouch and was preparing to move out when he heard a swishing sound followed by a thunk. He turned his head to see an arrow embedded in the tree trunk, still vibrating slightly.

  He dropped to the ground.

  “Who the hell is that?” he yelled. “Hold your fucking fire!”

  He thrust his Glock in front of him, looking for signs of movement.

  Nothing.

  * * * * *

  Ike heard the yell and recognized Brewski’s voice immediately. Not having heard a gunshot, he assumed the shooting in question was one of John’s arrows.

  “Shit,” he said to Angel. “We gotta go.”

  He took off in a sprint, with Angel hot on his heels. They rounded the hedge and headed west toward Brewski.

  Ike spotted his friend lying prone next to a tree, gun at the ready.

  “Brewski,” he yelled. “Stand down, it’s me.”

  Brewski looked back over his shoulder.

  “Don’t tell me to stand down,” he said as Ike arrived. “I’m not the one who thinks he’s fucking Robin Hood.”

  Brewski spotted Angel behind Ike.

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked.

  “Jesus,” Ike said. “Relax, will you? Let’s make sure we don’t get skewered first.”

  Ike moved in front of Brewski, tight to the hedge.

  “John,” he yelled. “It’s Ike. Hold your fire.”

  “Okay,” John called back. “We’re coming out.”

  Ike, Angel and Brewski stood up.

  “Angel, this is Brewski,” Ike said. “You’ve heard about him, you’ve read about him.”

  They shook hands.

  “All lies,” Brewski said. “I’m not half as bad as he says I am—either that or I’m twice as good, whichever applies.”

  Angel laughed and Ike admired her smile… again.

  “It’s a pleasure,” she said.

  John arrived, panting.

  “She’s gone,” he said.

  “Who’s gone?” Ike asked.

  “Darlene,” he said. “I told her to stay put while I scouted ahead. When I went back…”

  “You left her alone?” Ike asked.

  “Who’s Darlene?” Brewski asked.

  “Later,” Ike said. “Let’s go. She couldn’t have gone very far.”

  They moved west, eyes peeled for signs of Darlene. They reached the spot where John had last seen her.

  “She was right here,” he said.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Ike asked.

  “I was only going fifty feet,” he said. “I didn’t think…”

  “Move!” Brewski yelled, pushing John aside and bringing his gun up.

  His first shot thunked into the stucco next to the open door of the building. Darlene dropped to the ground.

  “What the…” she said.

  Brewski’s second shot hit the zombie in the mouth and tore the top half of its head off. The carcass swayed for a few seconds before falling back into the building.

  Darlene hopped up, her pants undone.

  “Where the hell were you?” John asked.

  “I had to pee,” she said. “I’m sick of leaning against trees—I figured it would be nice to sit on a toilet for a change.”

  “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” John complained.

  “Oh, relax, I was only gone for…”

  “Uhhh, maybe we should talk about this later,” Angel said, pointing toward the building where dozens of zombies were shuffling in their direction.

  “Shit,” Ike said. “Let’s do it in the road.”

  They sprinted for the road and toward the entrance to the compound. The sentry recognized Brewski and opened the gate, slamming it quickly behind them.

  They stopped in the walkway to catch their breath.

  “Okay,” Ike said. “Brewski, this is Darlene.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Darlene said as she fastened her pants.

  “Same here,” Brewski said. “Don’t do that on my account.”

  Darlene smiled and glanced at John, who was giving Brewski the hairy eyeball. As Darlene finished with her pants, she opened her mouth to speak, but her thought was interrupted by the blast of an air horn.

  Ky

  Ky needed another shot of whiskey. Or three. His leg was propped on a chair in Europa and it was throbbing. The dishrags Ambroz and Doc Parkes had wrapped around the wound were soaked with blood.

  "We need to talk," Tiki said as he entered with his girlfriend in tow. Or whatever she is to him, Ky thought. In this day and age, who could really say if titles mattered? Were he and Lisa still married in the eyes of God? Was there a God?

  "Sit
," Ky said. He closed his eyes, feeling suddenly nauseous. When his head stopped spinning and he got his bearings, he opened his eyes and was not surprised to see Ambroz hovering over his right shoulder.

  "We need to leave this compound," Tiki said. "Before it’s too late."

  "And what would be the point of that? Where would we go? If we stay here, we have food, supplies, and a safe haven." Ky pointed to the door. "Out there is only death, ruin."

  "Don't you think you're being dramatic?" Crista asked, seated next to Tiki.

  Ky smiled, despite the pain. "Me being dramatic? I've heard your speeches, out there in the courtyard, like some Prophet of Disaster. You missed your calling, Mark. You would have been a fine actor. But inciting the masses to rally against me hasn't worked, has it? Especially when the ones you are trying to gather to your side are loyal to me."

  Bethany DeVore came to mind. She'd been telling Ky everything Tiki was saying. And, apparently, smiling at Tiki with her big blue eyes and nodding along with the other sheep. But when push came to shove (and it looked like it was going to), Ky would have the last word.

  "There are those loyal to me as well," Tiki said through gritted teeth.

  Ky grinned. He had him now. The worst thing you could do in a negotiation is show emotion, like anger. Tiki's pride was wounded, which could be mined to crush him. He needed to strike, despite the pain running up and down his leg. "How many, bartender? Not enough to survive in the wild."

  Tiki went to rise but Crista gripped his shoulder. Ambroz was also ready to strike.

  Ky put his hands up. "This is getting us nowhere, is it? I can't let you leave and take some of the able bodies with you. Can I? It would split the survivors and make two weak groups instead of a unified front."

  "You can't stop me," Tiki said in nearly a whisper.

  Ky leaned forward and gave Tiki a hard look. "Do you doubt me? I will do whatever it takes to keep European Village from falling to the zombies. That includes dealing harshly with you."

  Tiki smiled, but Ky could see he was sweating. "Is that a threat?"

  "That is a promise." Ky sat back in his chair, easing off his leg and the pain spidering up his calf. "I don't make idle threats, bartender."

  "I came to you to be nice. I'm not here to ask for your permission."

  "Good, because you don't have it. All you have is your enforcer here." Ky smiled at Crista. She was a pretty girl and Ky knew Tiki was probably fighting to keep her at arm's length. Ky knew she was his weakness right now, and his mind spun with ways to manipulate the situation for his own benefit. And the benefit of European Village. "You need to think on what you are doing. How will your conscience feel after you leave and march people into certain doom, on your way to a magic land that doesn't exist, and also killing everyone here in the process. Can you handle that?"

  "Sitting here while we're slowly being surrounded by enemies and dying off is not my idea of living. Can your conscience handle that, Ky?"

  Ky was about to retort when the air horn sounded on the roof.

  "Who's up there?" Tiki asked.

  "Cesar," Ambroz said. "He was told never to use the air horn unless there was a big attack coming."

  The air horn went off again, this time in a longer duration.

  "Ky, what is happening?" Lisa asked from the back stairs.

  "Baby, go back upstairs and get some rest."

  Lisa looked horrified. "What happened to your leg?"

  Ky smiled. "It's just a flesh wound."

  The air horn went off again.

  "Get everyone to the courtyard. I think we're in trouble," Ky said. He turned to Tiki. "I think we need to squash this for now and see what is going on."

  "Agreed," Tiki said, and helped Ky get out of his chair.

  Lisa looked sick, her lovely face pale and her eyes sad. Ky wanted to hug his wife and tell her it would be alright, but he didn't know if it would be a lie. Had their luck finally run out?

  As Ky got to the outside seating area with the help of Tiki and Ambroz, a group of unfamiliar people came walking up.

  And Ky could hear the chain-link fence blocking the closet exit to the parking lot begin to shake.

  Cesar

  Cesar was admiring the scenery around him, the lush trees and fragrant smells, and wishing this was all a bad dream. He missed New York's actual changing seasons and good food. "Staten Island pizza and mini-bagel sandwiches in Brooklyn," he said out loud. He missed the days of playing his guitar in dingy clubs in Hell's Kitchen and jamming with jazz and blues legends. He missed…

  Movement below, on Palm Harbor Parkway, caught his eye. He knew there were scavenging teams out there, so he was about to ignore it, when he did a double-take.

  There were at least a dozen zombies moving toward European Village, silently shuffling along. He relaxed. They would go past or someone would dispatch them, quickly, from the safety of the courtyard's barriers.

  Except, he noticed another dozen joined them as they cleared the trees and moved into his sight. And there were more behind them. And still more and more. Then he spotted the five people sprinting for the entrance and he recognized Brewski among them.

  He guessed a hundred or more zombies were down there. And they were heading right at them.

  Cesar fumbled with the air horn before raising it and letting out a blast.

  That's when he noticed the sailboat coming down the Intracoastal and the group of scavengers being assaulted on the docks.

  This is bad, very bad, he thought. He blasted the air horn again.

  He needed to tell Ky but refused to panic and give up his spot on the roof. He was worth more on the roof, keeping track of the zombie's movements, and coordinating if they needed to find an escape route.

  Cesar blasted again for effect and looked over the edge into the courtyard, where he could see everyone gathering. He saw Ky stumbling from Europa below into the mass of refugees.

  "There must be a hundred zombies surrounding us," Cesar shouted down. "And there is a sailboat coming down the Intracoastal. It's a big one."

  Cesar hoped it was coming to save them, and they kept a seat warm for him.

  He went back to monitoring the grim situation.

  Didi

  During a break in the hurling, Didi moved to the toilet. When her system had finished purging itself, she absently tried to flush, obeying 47 years of habit. Nothing happened.

  She went to the balcony for some air. The stench of Uncle Brian was no better than the smell of her own vomit, but at least there was outside air to dilute it.

  As her head began to clear and the dizziness and nausea receded, she placed her hands on the rail and took several deep breaths.

  Fucking cigars, she thought, I guess you’re not supposed to inhale them.

  She closed her eyes and fantasized about a carton of Marlboro lights. If she could get her hands on one, she’d savor them the way rich people savor wine.

  The sound of the air horn snapped her out of the reverie.

  “What the fuck?” she said to herself.

  The horn sounded again, then a third time.

  Ky, Ambroz and several others gathered in the courtyard outside Europa and Cesar said something to them from the roof. She didn’t hear what he said, but she knew it meant the shit was hitting the fan…again.

  From the other side of the compound, she spotted the cigar store chick walking toward the commotion. The last thing she needed was for Ky to get pissed at her for stealing his precious fucking cigars.

  “Son of a bitch,” she said.

  She stepped over Uncle Brian and went down the stairs as fast as she could. In the courtyard, the cigar chick was walking toward the action. Didi wanted to get there first and diffuse any fallout. She moved faster than her still-trembling legs wanted her to.

  Ky and Ambroz were in the courtyard with the bartender guy and his woman. Ky’s wife was there too, looking like a zombie herself. Didi and the cigar chick arrived almost simultaneously.

  “K
y,” the cigar chick said, “She stole your cigars. I tried to stop her.”

  “I’ll give the fucking things back,” Didi said. “What’s the big deal?”

  Ky looked at cigar chick. “Sarah,” he said, “We have bigger things to worry about right now.”

  Sarah took in the scene, realized the cigars were not going to be a priority, and backed off. Didi breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Jesus Christ, Didi,” she heard. “What are you getting into now?”

  She looked past Ky and the crowd to see Brewski walking toward the scene with Ike and three other people in tow.

  Darlene

  Darlene gripped John's hand when the first air horn sounded from the roof. They were immediately swarmed with a couple dozen survivors currently making European Village home.

  "I hope there are more people here than this," John said.

  "Me, too." Ike pointed at the hobbling Ky. "That must be their fearless leader. God help us."

  Darlene again heard the air horn from the roof and winced. It wasn't the fact it was loud. It was more because it was such a bad omen. There was no way these people had survived this long being noisy. The only reason to sound such an alarm was immediate and big danger.

  As if in answer, she heard the chain-link fence around the corner begin to clatter, and saw a wall of zombies pressed against it. She didn't know if it would hold. She put her baseball bat on her shoulder and made sure her machete was still within easy reach.

  When Cesar yelled down the bad news about the horde but good news about the sailboat, she had mixed feelings.

  "The sailboat might be looters," John said as if reading her mind. "I take that as more bad news piled on top of bad news."

  Ike laughed. "I can sail a boat. My only question is whether or not the captain, currently aboard, will let me freely, or if I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

  "Where the hell did Didi go? Do you see her?" Brewski asked.

  "I think you'd know if she was out here," Ike said.