by J. Thorn
Before Alex said anything to Billy, she looked at the old man. “Is the invitation open? Will we have an open door at anytime?”
“Yes,” he replied gently. “Anytime. You are not coming in?”
She shook her head and crouched down to be at Billy’s level. “Be good. I won’t be long,” she whispered.
“Why?” Billy asked.
“When I protected you, Mack knew I didn’t die. He said he felt it. Billy … I don’t feel that Mack is dead. I don’t feel that he’s gone. I really don’t. He’s out there, somewhere. I have to look until I know or until I feel it.”
“I understand.” He embraced Alex. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be back,” she said, “I promise you.” She stepped away.
Del scratched the back of his head and looked at Joshua. “You going in?”
“I’m not gonna leave her to look for Mack by herself.”
“Yeah, me either,” Del said.
The old man glanced curiously at Del. “You’re not entering?”
“Not yet,” Del replied. “I’ll take that open-door policy as well. I’m just not satisfied about Mack either.”
Del took a second to say a goodbye to Billy, then he took Alex’s hand.
The old man reiterated that they were welcome, and then he slipped into the city with Billy.
The gates closed.
“Well,” Del exhaled.
“Well,” Joshua said.
“Thank you,” Alex grabbed on to Del.
Del shrugged. “I’m not feeling the city yet.”
“Where do we start?” Alex asked.
“We start …” Del nodded a few times in thought, looked outward, then back to Alex. “By following the floodwaters and looking for Mack.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Dude?” Del asked Joshua.
“Hey, I’m the newcomer. I go with the flow. No pun intended to the flood. It sounds like a plan.”
“Doesn’t it?” Del smiled, walked to the vehicle and opened the door for Alex. After Alex and Joshua got in, Del looked up at the sky. “I just had a thought. What did Raphael say? We inherited the Earth. I’m also thinking … Maybe while we’re at it, we should go collect our inheritance.”
Soft, and with a hint of sadness, Alex said, “Sounds like a plan.”
“We’re rolling.” A warm smile transferred between him and Alex. Del shut the door. He glanced once more up to the sky, got in Humvee, and began to drive.
He didn’t know if they’d ever find Mack, or if they’d even succeed in Cleansing the Earth.
None of them did.
But they could hope.
That was a start.
++++
Face it...you really wanted to like the DEAD series, but the jumping around was simply too dang distracting. "Just give me one story to follow!" you screamed. Well...your request was heard. This collection of books strip away all those other pesky tales and gives you 18 chapters of Steve's Story, The Geeks, or the Vignettes.
Each special edition allows you to sink into a DEAD world with your favorite people and not be "distracted" by those long absences as other stories intrude and get in the way. A special edition has been released for all three of the story lines that exist in the DEAD books--DEAD: Vignettes, DEAD: The Geeks & DEAD: Steve's Story.
Steve’s Story
Written by: TW Brown
© Dead: Steve’s Story
The split-tree logo is a registered trademark of May December Publications LLC
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author or May December Publications LLC.
Printed in the U.S.A.
Foreword
Ordinary men make up the world.
What makes them incredible is what they do under extreme pressure.
What you’re about to embark upon is a story of one extraordinary man named “Steve” who found a reason to rise up to be more than just another survivor. It’s written by Todd Brown, a man who is becoming synonymous for writing vivid, action packed, character driven zombie apocalypse novels. I personally came to know Todd through the dark journalistic stylings of Zomblog and have followed his writing career up and through becoming published myself with the Brown’s company, May December Publications.
This is a tale of an average guy who is changed by events that unfurl around him. Todd writes a portrait of what we all might hope, wish, strive, and be willing to die for. It’s basic relatable material, and in this case, at Brown’s capable fingertips, a solid story told at its finest.
When I said “ordinary men make up the world,” I wasn’t being sexist. This is Steve’s story, after all, but really what I mean is, “ordinary people make up the world.”
Chances are…you, me, your friendly neighborhood office worker; we all have lives that no one could call sublime. Most of us would find that, only in dire straits, we find out what we’re made of.
Do or die.
Run or fight.
Some of us could step up and make the hard choices, and some of us would find safety and structure in the idea that someone else is willing to do the unpleasant jobs for us.
Which one would you be?
I don’t blame you if you don’t know. Most of us have never been put in a circumstance where we would need to know exactly where our chips would fall. That’s the beauty of a zombie apocalypse book. We can read about it, instead. We can live a little of it without even getting our feet wet (maybe just our cheeks, if the story provokes a deep enough emotional response).
In Steve’s case, he faces tough calls and hard choices. He makes decisions to protect the ones he’s come to love in this newly scarred world. He may not have been that guy before. May not have wanted to be the kind of person it takes, but circumstances seized him and recreated a survivor who can provide and thrive in a bruised landscape.
This is Steve’s story. This is Todd Brown’s story. This is one fun, engaging, and entertaining story. So I hope you have some time on your hands. I think you may find that the book will suck you in and hold fast until the very end. Enjoy.
-DA Chaney, Author
April, 2012
This book is dedicated to Donna Chaney
and everyone with a zombie story to tell
Author’s note:
When the DEAD series began, I had no idea how far I intended to take the story. It went from a trilogy, to maybe five, to at least ten. I finally settled on twelve. Is that number hard, fast, and etched in the cosmos? No. But it seems like a good number and so that is the one I am keeping in my head as I write. However, that number is a bit misleading.
What you have here is the first Special Edition release of the DEAD series. These don't count against the magic number twelve. Instead, think of this like a “Greatest Hits” release from a band you like. It has the hits, plus some previously unreleased tracks.
One of the things that make this series different is the format. You have Steve’s story, the Geeks’ story, and the Vignettes. The chapters rotate, pulling you along for the ride. My inspiration (stealing is such a dirty word) for this format comes from George R. R. Martin. Those of you who have read his amazing Song of Ice and Fire series that the Game of Thrones is based upon have seen his masterful ability to jump from one perspective to another. While I am no Martin, I have enjoyed this format as a storyteller.
There have been a few people who have complained about my approach to the DEAD series. So, when I chose twelve as my magic number for books, and eighteen was established as my number of chapters, I realized that I could break my s
eries up into three-book arcs. At the end of those arcs, I could compile the individual stories into one volume and offer it to the reader who would like to just spend time with Steve, or Kevin...or Juan, or Garrett. However, I also started receiving some of my first fan letters around the time I made this decision.
It should be made clear that I write for YOU. While I would never change my story, I do listen to you. The very first question that I ever received was what happened to the friend who called Steve that fateful night. In that respect, YOU inspired me. So, in these special editions, you will find some “bonus” material. Ever wonder about how Garrett’s journey began? (One of you did.) How about that fateful trip to Pittsburgh that caused the rift in The Geeks?
What you hold here is the compiled story line from DEAD: The Ugly Beginning, DEAD: Revelations and DEAD: Fortunes & Failures plus close to 10,000 words of additional material that you have asked for. Some may criticize this as a cheap and tawdry way to squeeze more money from my readers. To them I say a couple of things: First, musicians put out collections of their hits all the time, why should a writer not be able to do the same?; Second, I write for a living (not much of one...but I pay the rent) and I don’t complain about your job.
I’ve said it before, and I will again...I write for each one of you. Whether we’ve ever met or not isn’t important. When you get into a series, you enter a relationship with the writer. My part in this is to give you what you want. I can’t promise to always hit the mark...but I will always do my best.
I have so many people to thank. Nickie, Christina, Vix...you are the ONLY girlfriends I have that my wife approves of. I cherish each of you for different reasons, but in equal amounts. To all of you who have taken the time to read my stuff, email me, write reviews...I hope to never become so self-absorbed that I forget that it is you who gave me the opportunity to do what I love for a living. I may not always do what you ask, but I will always listen to what you have to say.
TW Brown
May 2012
DEAD: Steve’s Story
Chapter 1 – The Ugly Beginning
Chapter 2 – Radio Traffic
Chapter 3 – Still Running
Chapter 4 – Tranquility Base
Chapter 5 – Illusions
Chapter 6 – Tough Choices
Chapter 7 – Francis?
Chapter 8 – New Attitudes
Chapter 9 – “I Love You…”
Chapter 10 – Digging In
Chapter 11 – Revelation
Chapter 12 – Breaking Point
Chapter 13 – Home Sweet Home
Chapter 14 – Death Knocks
Chapter 15 – More Good News
Chapter 16 – Win Some…Lose Some
Chapter 17– Problems Solved
Chapter 18– “We are Gathered…”
1
The Ugly Beginnings
I ain’t no hero. I never thought of being one. When I was young, I didn’t dream about being a police or fireman. I never considered joining the military, even after 9-11 when so many others my age flocked to the recruiter’s office.
Hell, I was the guy who picked a desk in the middle of the classroom on the first day of school when all the Brains rushed for front row seats and the Jocks and Stoners roamed to the back. I didn’t play sports, at least not in any organized way. When sides were chosen (even if it was just a pick-up game with my buddies), I was pointed out someplace in the middle. Sometimes I would pull off a play in football, basketball, kickball…whatever, which was only amazing because it was me doing it.
I had my share of girlfriends. I lost my virginity my senior year. On prom night. To a girl who played flute in the high school marching band. Her name was Kerri or Kathy…or Kari or Cathy.
So you’re starting to get the point. Right?
I worked in an office complex after I graduated college …B minus GPA. Never married, but I was engaged a few times. My one bedroom apartment was small, but it suited me and my dog just fine. Well, that was until the horror movies jumped off the screen and landed right in the middle of an atypically un-believing real world.
Some of the stuff about zombies proved to be true.
Some not.
Most of how humanity was predicted to act was drastically underestimated. The best. The worst. Sometimes I wonder how in the hell we’ve survived as a species.
That will likely be answered definitively sooner than I would like.
It may seem corny, but no one I’ve met since it began can give me a solid answer as to how it all rolled into motion. Sure, there are theories: Government Bio-weapon gone awry; Super-virus; alien particles from space; demons from Hell; and global warming. Each gets equal billing when you hear the topic come up. Maybe it’s a mix of all of the above. Or, maybe God got tired of us messing up his toy. And if you don’t believe in God…well then you can refer back to the list and pick your favorite. Honestly, I don’t give a damn. I’m too tired from running. How I ended up leading a band of survivors in this Romero-Hell is my new reality. The time for blame has long passed.
Since things began, I’ve seen…we’ve all seen…things best forgotten. Yet, I, as well as anybody still alive, know that forgetting is impossible. The best you can hope for now is sleep without the nightmares coming back to refresh those images you desperately try to shove into a hard to reach spot in your mind. There are some things that the movies missed, or could not accurately convey. The biggest would be the smell; that, and the psychological toll of hearing a person scream as they are ripped apart and fed upon.
***
“…seem to see no pattern in what is being called The Blue Plague, due to the discoloration common in the final stages where it is theorized that the body is starved for oxygen.”
Click.
“SARS. West Nile. Crap. What’s next?” I turned off the television and tossed the remote onto a stack of unread magazines scattered across my coffee table.
Pluck, my Basset Hound, twitched a big, floppy ear and closed his eyes in disinterest. I scratched him behind one of those ears, earning a contented doggie sound.
I got off the couch and made one of those habitual trips to the fridge. I popped it open knowing deep down that I didn’t really want anything. A thud from the living room signaled that Pluck was on his way, just in case I might produce some tasty treat that would undoubtedly be shared. I’m pretty sure Pavlov’s dogs are hidden somewhere in Pluck’s family tree.
As is often the case when I’m about to make a major life choice, this one being leftover Chinese take-out, or last night’s pizza, the phone rang. I passed Pluck just as his paws smacked the linoleum with a scrabble of clicking claws that were in dire need of trimming. His exasperated huff caused his thick jowls to flutter.
“Yeah?” No need for formality since I could see Bill Wright, a friend of mine’s name, in the caller ID on my phone.
“Steve, are you watching this?” My friend Bill was naturally excitable, but something in his voice was off.
“Is this sports related?” I made no attempt to hide how totally not interested I was. “Unless it involves a female gymnast losing some or all of her outfit—”
“Turn to Channel Seven now!”
The near-hysterical timbre in his voice had me grabbing my remote before I realized it. I punched the buttons with my thumb. The green volume bar inched across the bottom of my screen as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.
“…of the local police force along with a detachment from the National Guard have set up around the town’s perimeter. No contact has been established with any of the residents up to this point. Reports from the air indicate that it is unlikely that any survivors exist.”
The buzzing in my ear reminded me that I was still on the phone with Bill. Also, my arm remained extended towards the television. My hand was empty because, at some point, I had dropped the remote.
“Another 9-11?” I felt my chest tighten.
“I don’t think so,” Bill said. I could hear
his keyboard rattling in the background. “This shit is all over the place. And not just in our country. It’s global!”
“What the hell is going on?”
“Straight-up horror movie shit!”
“Uh-huh.” My enthusiasm and interest began to recede quickly.
“Dude, I’m totally serious! Packs of crazed people are going on rampages and just tearing people apart. YouTube already has like a thousand postings under “Zombie Attack” that show some twisted stuff. At least it did until the site locked up and crashed.”
“So you’re telling me that zombies are out there going all George Romero on the unsuspecting citizens of the world?” I was still watching my now muted television while sitting on my coffee table rubbing Pluck’s head as it rested on my knee. It wasn’t showing me any zombies, just a talking head and a caption that read: Possible Small Town Epidemic.
“If you saw any of these clips, you’d be grabbin’ a gun and headin’ to the nearest shopping mall!”
No, I didn’t believe Bill in the slightest. That was mostly due to the hours he, I, and others spent imagining just such a scenario; usually after viewing any of the Dead flicks. Take your pick…Night, Dawn, Day, Land. Original. Remake. We’d seen them all enough to recite lines like Rocky Horror fans. It always led to the “what if” conversation.
One of the oldest, most overused sayings is, “Be careful what you ask for…” You know the rest. So, I did what anybody else would do if their friend called to say that the zombies were coming. I hung up.
