Dying Days Ultimate Box Set 1

by Armand Rosamilia

  His apartment was on the third floor. He didn't bother to unlock the door, kicking it in and, suddenly, feeling manly for doing so. "Might as well have some fun right before you fucking die," he said. "Here goes nothing."

  From the closet, he pulled out the two cases of alcohol, mixed bottles of brandy, rum and tequila. Tiki had hidden them when the attacks first occurred and he was trapped in European Village, with the sole purpose of either drinking them or using them to barter at a later date. He supposed using them would work right now.

  He grabbed two of his Mad Gringo shirts from the drawer, as well as his lighter, and hefted one of the cases. He'd need two trips, which didn't make him happy. But he needed to hurry up. Tiki ran down the hall, carrying the cardboard box, not looking down at the horde of zombies in the parking lot.

  He took the stairs, two steps at a time, to the fourth floor and moved down the hall, his arms killing him. Malnourished and weary, he was winded by the time he got to the last door. He put the alcohol down and tried to kick the door in, but it didn't budge at first. "What the hell?"

  A second kick knocked the door open and he stepped into an empty apartment, glad there were no zombies hiding, or dead people and the requisite smell. He put the box near the locked balcony doors and went back for the other one.

  On his way, he looked down and almost gasped. There were hundreds of zombies surrounding the compound. What chance did they have of escaping, or fighting through them? He decided not to think about it.

  Instead, he spit over the side and gave a Double Middle Finger Salute to them.

  Then it was back down to the third floor and his apartment, where he gripped the second box and turned to trot back upstairs.

  This time he didn't look down, trying to keep from dropping the bottles.

  Back upstairs, he resisted kicking open the balcony doors. He swung them open and pushed the boxes to the balcony, looking down at the chaos.

  The zombies were at least fifteen deep in spots, crowding against the chain-link fence. But Tiki was happy to see behind the lines, the zombies had moved on around the building, so there was a break between them and the ones at the Intracoastal docks.

  We just need to eliminate the group below, Tiki thought. And I have just the right solution.

  He knew he needed to hurry, when he noticed the fence was moving under the weight of the zombies pressing against it. It wouldn't hold for long.

  There was screaming inside the courtyard and he saw the other two exits falling to the zombies, with bodies going down amidst the fighting. He knew even if he hurried, he'd be trapped up here. Ironic, if I somehow help them and screw myself in the deal, dying in this place I've been trying to escape from for weeks.

  He began ripping pieces of his shirts and opening the alcohol bottles. He stuffed the rags into the tops, dousing them with some rum, as he went.

  A glance down at the action and he saw the courtyard was now a battle zone. He also made eye contact with Crista, who was standing below and looking like she wanted to cry. She threw up her hands at him.

  He smiled and motioned her to come up. If he was going to die, he wanted to do it with her by his side. Enough of the games and enough of holding back how he felt.

  When she ran out of sight and into the building, he went back to work preparing the bottles.

  He didn't need to look to see the chain-link fence twisting under the weight. He pulled his lighter from his pocket and stuffed a strip of Hawaiian shirt into the neck of the bottle. He lit it, let it catch, and then stepped to the balcony and set his feet.

  Tiki was Kerry Wood of the Chicago Cubs, about to strike out twenty and tie the major league record. He was in the zone and into his windup, letting loose a fastball that streaked across the sky and exploded in the thick of the zombies outside the gate.

  By the time he had lit and tossed three more, Crista was at his side. She gave him a long kiss on the lips, with a smile, before getting next to him and feeding the Molotov cocktails into his pitching hand.

  "I'd rather die up here with you, than down there with those fools any day of the week," Crista said.

  "I'd rather be lying on Flagler Beach, with one of these bottles of rum getting guzzled with some Coke." Tiki laughed. "And I wish you were there with me."

  David & Jill

  Shibumi tugged gently on the anchor chain as the current tried to push her north. David and Jill watched as a swarm of zombies shuffled toward European Village. Their hopes of being able to tie-up at the dock were dashed when they realized that many of the zombies were staying behind…possibly sensing that there was fresh meat on the boat.

  They heard three blasts from an air horn from the village.

  “There must be survivors in there,” David said. “Their alarm.”

  “Those poor souls,” Jill said. “I wish there was something we could do.”

  David hung his head slightly and exhaled. What could they possibly do? The only thing anybody could do these days was to keep finding ways to stay alive and, as much as he would like to help whoever was inside European Village, he was powerless to do so.

  “I wish so, too,” he said. “But we’re not much better off than they are. They’re trapped in there and we’re trapped on Shibumi. The only difference is we’re more mobile, but we’re not invincible.”

  “What should we do?” Jill asked.

  “We could wait it out,” David said. “When the zombies move on, we can go ashore and see if there’s anybody who needs help. If there are no survivors, there may be some supplies we can use.”

  Jill collapsed onto a bench on the starboard side, leaned her head back, closed her eyes and sighed. David could tell the stress was getting to her, but she refused to give in. He admired her inner strength as much as her ageless beauty.

  “I know you’re looking at me,” she said with a wide grin.

  “Oh?” he said. “And just how do you know that?”

  “After 17 years together and the past eternity on this boat alone, I know what you’re doing before you decide to do it.”

  David sat next to her and kissed her.

  “You have to admit,” he said. “It’s been a pretty good eternity.”

  “All things considered, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Even the zombies?”

  She thought for a second and smiled, still not opening her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, “even the zombies.”

  “”Wow,” he said. “You’re something else.”

  “It’s taken you long enough to notice,” she said with a giggle.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Since we can’t do anything, why don’t we have a little libation and then see what else happens?”

  Jill nodded and said “Mmmm, that sounds like a fantastic idea. Especially the ‘see what else happens’ part.”

  David went below and came back with a bottle of Nassau Royale liquere. They had been trying to conserve their precious fluid since they didn’t know when they’d find more, but it had been over a week since they’d partaken and this seemed like as good a time as any.

  He opened the bottle and handed it to Jill. She took a belt and handed it back to him. After three healthy shots each, he sealed it up and set the bottle on the deck. They leaned into each other on the bench, eyes closed, and waited for the magic to happen.

  “Yeah,” David said, as he nuzzled her neck and ear. “This is more like it.”

  “It’s the only way to fly,” she said.

  David nibbled on her ear and kissed her neck.

  “Oh my god,” she said.

  “Wow,” he said with a grin, “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

  She stood up quickly and pointed to the east bank.

  “No, I mean, Oh my God,” she said. “Look.”

  David followed her point and, for a split second, hoped it was the rum playing with his eyesight. Dozens of zombies, on the opposite side, were emerging from between houses and shuffling toward the edge of the water.<
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  “Holy shit,” he said. “Will it ever end?”

  Jill offered no answer, since neither of them knew.

  They watched in silence as the zombies made their way toward the shore.

  “Are they going to…” Jill started.

  “Walk into the water?” David finished. “I don’t…oh man, I guess they are.”

  The zombies walked into the Intracoastal without hesitation. The water rose up their legs as they got further from shore. When they were twenty feet out, their heads went under.

  “Can they…” Jill said.

  “It would appear so,” David answered.

  “What do we do?” she asked.

  “Start the engine,” he said. “I’ll weigh anchor and let’s reverse course. Time to head back north.”

  David went to the bow and hauled the anchor up. The engine came to life and Jill began maneuvering Shibumi to head north, as David returned to the helm.

  “I’ll take it,” he said.

  Jill yielded the wheel to him and watched as more zombies walked blindly into the water on the east bank. As Shibumi came about slowly, Jill looked at the west bank.

  “Oh my God, David,” she said. “People.”

  “I see that,” David said, watching a small band of people racing toward the dock and right toward the waiting zombies there.

  He pushed the throttle forward, almost completely through the turn.

  “David, we have to do something,” Jill said.

  David’s gut told him to go full steam ahead, survival first…but he was unable to convince his heart. He throttled back and killed the engine.

  He went to the rail and called to the shore, waving his arms.

  “They see us,” Jill said.

  David and Jill waved their arms, motioning for the survivors to come to them.

  Darlene

  Darlene put her hands up, but the flames were so intense and so sudden, she felt her face grow hot and her breath catch. She stepped down off the bench, white orbs blinding her for a few seconds.

  "You alright?" John asked her as he took her place on the bench.

  "I'll be fine," she mumbled. She almost went down on one knee but shook it off. There was no time to be weak now. "What happened?"

  Ike laughed. "The bartender, with the goatee, is tossing Molotov cocktails like they’re hot potatoes."

  "Hot potatoes?"

  Ike shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything better. Sue me." He went back to the fence but it was already getting ripped apart in several spots.

  Darlene turned to see zombies crossing the courtyard, one slow step closer at a time. They would be fighting on two fronts in a matter of minutes.

  A flaming rum bottle sailed into the nearest cluster of zombies, setting clothing and limbs on fire. Darlene looked up and gave a thumb up to Tiki and Crista, even though they were too busy to notice. Another projectile shattered and flames engulfed three more zombies, but there were too many still approaching.

  The fence fell, but there were only about a dozen undead left now.

  Ky, with his wife in his arms, shouted a rally cry to get to the water.

  Darlene ran to John and Brewski, who were back to back and dispatching zombies. She waded into the remainder with her machete, cleaving arms and necks as she went.

  "This way!" Ike yelled, moving methodically out of European Village, with Angel and Didi on either side of him. "Form a wedge behind me."

  Darlene stepped off the curb onto the street and sliced through another zombie's neck before kicking it to the ground. She turned to see only a few refugees left.

  There were screams coming from the courtyard as a few stragglers were pulled down and bitten. There are too few left, she thought. Only a handful of survivors.

  John streaked past her and buried his machete in a dead woman creeping up on Darlene. "You owe me one," he said and grinned despite the obvious fatigue on his face.

  "I owe you more than one," she said. "If we survive this mess, I'll happily pay you back."

  "Are you asking me out?"

  Darlene stretched her tired arms. "Just get us out of here alive and we'll see."

  "Deal." John swung at another zombie. "They are thinning out."

  Darlene knew he was right, but there were still dozens singly wandering toward the group, and the vast majority of the horde now inside European Village. With any luck, they could get to the sailboat and get away.

  Another man, who Darlene didn't know, went down when a zombie, on the ground, reached up and gripped his leg before biting and rending a chunk of kneecap.

  Ike crushed the man's skull, mercifully, before he was in more pain or turned into an enemy.

  They made their way across the street, everyone spread out and fending off the zombies, moving inexorably to the goal of the docks.

  "I sure hope the pirates are friendly, or we're screwed," Ike said.

  Darlene had to agree. Although, at this point, their momentum was carrying them to the boat no matter what. Friend or foe, the goal was to get on the sailboat before it sailed away or they died trying.

  The woman beside Darlene, holding a broken chair leg, swung and missed the zombie near her. It moved in and bit through her fingers.

  Darlene dispatched both the zombie and the woman, choking back tears as she did. They were killing the living, as much as the zombies now, before they turned.

  They were down to less than a dozen survivors.

  The docks beckoned them, but there were still zombies between freedom and death. Darlene wasn't surprised to see another large horde down the road, approaching.

  "Get everyone together and we'll make a push to the water. This is it, people," Ike said.

  Darlene knew he was right. This was really it.

  Ky

  Ky was sweating. His leg was driving spikes of pain up his thigh and through his side and he wanted to lie down, curl up and die, but he gripped Lisa instead.

  "I don't feel so good," Lisa whispered to her husband. Her green eyes fluttered.

  "We're almost there, honey." Ky held the pipe limply in his hand but tried to weave in and out of the fighting around them. He knew, if he let go of his wife to strike, she would collapse and he probably didn't have enough strength to be effective.

  But Ky wasn't about to give up. He owed the remaining people every last ounce of energy he possessed.

  There was another explosion behind them, as another Molotov cocktail was used. Ky smiled wearily. After all was said and done, Tiki hadn't abandoned European Village. In fact, it looked like he might be going down with the ship, after all.

  Ky focused on pleasant thoughts: smoking a good cigar in the Humidor, eating meatball parmigiana sliders at Mezzaluna's Pizza, drinking a banana bread beer at Farley's Irish Pub and a Flagler Spirits vodka shot at Europa.

  And he thought of Lisa, smiling and happy and vibrant, the woman that he'd married and vowed to love and protect.

  "What's up?" Lisa asked.

  "Just thinking about better days, honey." Ky felt a resurgence in his strength as they approached the docks.

  Darlene and Brewski cleared the zombies off the dock itself, while the rest of them struck those standing in the knee-deep water, trying to attack.

  Lisa tripped but Ky had her and lifted her up, their faces now only inches apart. He smiled at his beautiful wife and pushed her hair from her face, gently kissing her burning lips. "I love you."

  "The captain is waving at us," Didi said.

  "I take it as a good sign," Ike yelled. "Now we just need to figure out how to get to the boat."

  Ky got onto the dock and gently leaned Lisa against the wooden railing. He stretched and hefted the pipe in his hand. "I want you to go with them."

  Lisa looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

  Ky looked down at his bleeding leg. "I can't swim. I'll never make it. But I need you to survive. Go with them." He turned to the survivors. "I need someone to make sure my wife gets onto the boat."

&
nbsp; "What about you?" Darlene asked.

  Ky shook his head. "I'll never make it. But I need her to be safe. I'm going to stay here and guard the dock."

  "You're insane," Brewski said.

  "There are too many of them, and they won't stop coming. I can buy us some needed time. Now stop talking and figure out how you're going to get onto the sailboat."

  They all turned when they heard the splash as Didi jumped into the Intracoastal.

  Didi

  The water was thick, brown and tasted like salty crap but Didi didn’t care…her goal was to get to that boat. Nothing else mattered. She didn’t know what those idiots on the dock were waiting for, maybe they were behind her.

  Whatever. If they made it, they made it. If not…

  She felt something against her leg. A fish? There were no sharks in the Intracoastal…were there?

  She kicked on.

  She felt it again, or at least she thought she did—probably just her imagination…or seaweed.

  A few seconds later, when she was halfway to the boat, she realized it wasn’t her imagination.

  A hand gripped her ankle and she had to kick hard to break free from it.

  She continued on, trying to swim faster than her soaked jeans and sneakers would allow; another hand on her leg, then another. A fourth hand latched onto her other leg. She felt herself being pulled under. She thrashed wildly, like a fish caught on a hook, while her mind replayed the opening scene of Jaws in an endless sadistic loop.

  She could see a woman with red hair on the deck of the boat 50 feet away with her hands over her mouth, watching on in terror.

  Don’t just fucking stand there, bitch, she thought, fucking HELP ME!!

  Didi felt more hands grabbing her. She couldn’t move her legs and, when she felt a hand grab her belt, she knew there was nothing she could do.

  As her head sank beneath the surface and all became dark, she wished she had a cigarette.

  David and Jill

  David and Jill watched the woman dive from the dock and swim toward them. David started the engine and reversed the boat to get closer. Jill watched in horror as the woman was dragged under after getting halfway to the boat.