Dead Man's Party
Robert Fox
Copyright © 2012 Robert Fox
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13: 978-1719188388
DEDICATION
For my Dad, who most frequenty asked, “but what happed to Mike.”
And for the Fan who continues to seek me out at A-kon.
Letter From the Author
An obscene amount of time has passed since I released Dead Come Home into the wilds of the reading world. I believe nine years, to put an exact number to it. I foolishly believed that writing a sequel would be slightly less challenging than the original work.
I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.
So many technical aspects for which I utterly failed to account. Simply recapturing the stylistic voices of two writers was a challenge. Then life threw a few wrenches in — Namely joining the Army, and an all-expenses-paid tour of Afghanistan.
Yet throughout it all, I still love these characters, and this story. It has been my catharsis, another reason to learn about explosives (I mean C4 is really cool, ok), a brief lesson in Spanish, an escape, a return, a lot of fun, and, most importantly, long overdue.
Thank you to all of you who have patiently, and impatiently, waited so long. I hope you enjoy this installment of my Dead World.
So, to finally answer the question, “But what happened to Mike?” I give you my... extended reply.
Prologue
The Last Transmission
From: Office of □□□□□□□□□□
To: Emerg█ncy Command □█□eland Security
Subject: □□li□□□y □□□p□□□ to □□█□█□□□ S□□█□□█□□
In the time it takes me to write this there will be 5000 or more new reanimates in the streets. No amount of manpower is going to change the situation in the near future.
Between re□□urces on the gro□□□ and c□□□□□an news feeds, □□□□□□ confirm the □□□□□□□□□□□□ reanimates in N□□ Y□□k City, □█□□□□█□□□ DC, Dallas, Houston, San □█□□█□o, Chicago, Indianapolis, M□□□i, □□□ Angeles, Ph□□█□x, □█□□█iego, Seattle, □□□□□□□□□□□□□the Eastern □□□□□□□□□. Internationally □□□□□□□ confirmed To□yo, Mexico □█□□, Paris, Lon□□█, Berlin, □□█□ Iraq. They're pretty much everywhere.
There’s no one left to recall. All units have been recalled for deployment. The units that hadn’t been deployed as of 0800 (Day 3) are AWOL. The units that were deployed have stopped transmitting: either KIA or AWOL.
Of the more than 500 rescue stations initially deployed, only 75 are still active. The active stations are reporting hordes approaching.
Nu□□□ar and Air □□□□□ resources are unresp□□□□□□. □□□□□□□█□□□□□□□□□█□□ most other posts.
Emerg□□□□ □□□□dca□□ □□□tems transmitting □□□□□□□station lists □□□□□□□□□ disabled □□□□□□□□□□□□□█□□□□□□walking into death □□□□□. Only □o□ can help us now, assuming □□□□□□█□□□ forsaken us.
I can hear them outside. It’s □□□□□□█□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□they get in.
The power and water resources will continue running on automation □□□□□□□□□□□█□□□□□□□ wrong or they are directly hit □□█□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□.
Heaven help us all.
Signed
□□□□□█□□□□
FEMA
Emergency Co□□□□□□ations Hub.
Chapter 1
Hell Hath No Fury…
Lily drove away from Athena, Or. straining to watch the road in the glow of her truck's running lights. Bright light seemed to attract more trouble; to Lily that made driving sans headlights worth the risk. A breeze rustled the pom-pom outline of trees lining the road. She lost track of time. With nothing but static on the radio and a lack of other vehicles on the road, her cell phone was the only way to find out how long she had been creeping along.
What difference does it make? I'll stop when I am tired enough to sleep.
A large square sign slid by, reflecting just enough to catch Lily's eye. She stopped the truck and backed up to read the sign.
“Welcome to Washington.”
Lily stared at the sign. Oh, god. I've been driving the wrong direction. Her head bumped against the steering wheel. You have to start thinking things through or you're never getting home. She pulled a battered road atlas from under her seat and turned on the dome light. It took her a moment to find her place on the map, equidistant from Walla Walla and Milton Freewater.
When did I go through Milton? Damn. Damnit girl, you better get your head straight.
She looked at the main highways heading south. Interstate 84 would normally be the fastest route; it just required her to drive through every major city from Pendleton to Salt Lake City. What do you expect, that's what highways do, connect places. I just need to avoid the big places.
A yawn broke her concentration on the map. Lily looked at the barely lit road ahead of her and flipped the map shut. She took a moment to pull completely off the road and turned off the truck to sleep. Tomorrow morning, when she could see and think, she would figure out her next step.
Several miles out side of Elgin, Oregon, Lily passed a group of a couple dozen zombies surrounding a cluster of cars. Her truck bounced along as her right tires dropped off the small lip off the shoulder. Inconveniences like that and the one a few miles earlier reinforced her decision to avoid the primary Interstates. All it would take to put the brakes on this little road trip is something like that across a bridge.
“No,” she shook her head with the word, “Don't start thinking like that. Just...” She expected a little bump as she eased her truck back onto the black top as soon as her lane cleared.
The wheel pulled against her grip. Her truck slewed to the right as Lily fought to keep the truck straight. Lily counted her blessings that she had slowed down to avoid the cluster of cars, certain she would have lost control or rolled her truck. She took a couple long deep breaths before she let go of the wheel and climbed out.
“Gotta make this quick,” she said, pulling the heavy car jack and tire iron from their place behind the cab. She had no doubt the group of zombies she just passed would be moving her direction soon enough. The pile of cars sat maybe three football fields away. “Plenty of time, if I don't lollygag.”
Despite the jack's plastic case, rust attacked the bolts and the top of the lifting arm. Lily worried the rust might have affected other parts. The lift arm smoothly inched upward as she jacked it up. She removed the flat tire and set it under the frame, just like her dad always insisted, before she wriggled under the truck to get the spare.
“What asshole decided under the truck was a good place to store the spare?”
The wheel slid down against the giant wing nut despite her effort to hold it up. After a few minutes struggle, she tossed the securing nut to the side and eased the spare down to her chest then to the side so she could crawl out again.
Lily sat up and saw the group of zombies moving steadily toward her crippled truck. She still had time to make a clean get away, if she hurried. It took shoving her head and shoulder under the tailgate to drag the spare out. Trying to push herself to work faster cost her precious seconds when she dropped lug nuts or slipped her hold on the tire iron and had to re-seat it. From side-ward glances, she watched the zombies close on her truck.
/> She let the jack all the way down at once, causing the truck to rock on its suspension. Without pause, Lily started the final tightening of the lug nuts, desperate to finish before the zombies reached her. Already she heard the scrape of gravel as they shuffled closer. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she tried to tighten the last two lug nuts.
A hand grabbed her shirt and pulled. Lily swung the tire iron, catching the rotting man in the chin, shattering half his teeth and sending him sideways. She swung twice more, crushing its temple. Two more reached for her.
“NO!” she shrieked, reaching to her waistline for a pistol that wasn't there. “Shit!” She swung the tire iron in a wide arc. The zombie she hit staggered into his buddy. Her panic deepened as she realized she was looking at far too many zombies to fight off with just a tire iron. The zombie closest to her reached out again.
Lily back peddled. A rock shifted under foot. Tree tops and blue sky catapulted into view just before her head hit the asphalt. Between the terror and the pain, she couldn't think. She kicked randomly and flailed with the tire iron while she waited for her head to stop ringing. Her heel connected with something. Lily scrambled to her feet.
The two zombies stood just out of arms reach. A group surrounded her truck and moved to join the two in front of her. If she could keep them spaced out so she only had to deal with one or two at a time, she could eventually work through the whole group or at least thin them out enough to get in her truck.
“I can do this.” She swung at the closer zombie's temple. Its head snapped to the side from the impact. Lily hit the top of its head, knocking the blood-caked monster to the ground then stomped its face into the pavement. The second zombie lunged toward her. She jumped away. Before it could recover and grab at her again, she smashed the tire iron into the bridge of its nose, crushing its face and ruining its eyes.
Lily raised her weapon to finish it off. A woman grabbed Lily's arm like a hydraulic clamp. No amount of swinging or pulling tore her arm from the woman's grasp. With her own arm in the way, Lily couldn't swing the tire iron hard enough to hurt the woman. She jammed the chisel end of the tire iron into the woman's mouth as she tried to take a bite. The zombie went limp and ripped the tire iron from Lily's hand as she fell.
“Shit!”
Three more zombies came toward her, stepping on the bodies of the two men Lily just finished. Lily looked for anything to fight with as she backed away. At the edge of the road she found a head sized rock. She stood with the rock in both hands, ready to swing.
“Leave. Me. ALONE!” Lily swung her rock up into the jaw of the first zombie to reach her. She hit it again. The rock landed with a dull thud that sprayed goo on Lily's pant legs.
She looked for the other two zombies that should have been on her by now and found them laying on the ground. Someone walked toward the advancing zombies with his arms raised. Brown-black muck sprinkled with white chunks splattered across the grill of her truck. She watched as the back of another zombie's head exploded.
The bang of gunshots and enraged screams finally registered. Not far from the gunman, a second man leveled zombies with a sledge hammer. Lily watched as the pair offed a half-dozen undead before she recovered enough to pull her tire iron from under the corpse of the woman.
Four zombies remained when the shooter ran out of ammo. Lily stepped in front of him as he reloaded and crushed the skull of an approaching zombie. The shooter's friend smashed two more as Lily hit the last zombie from behind. Lily rested her hands on her knees and took a few deep breaths.
“Thank you,” Lily said, standing up. “That got a little out of hand.”
“MMM. Damn,” the gunman said in a husky voice.
“Jesus, Phil. Excuse my friend; he's a bit short on manners,” the sledgehammer wielding man said, resting the hammer on his shoulder. “I'm Dan. You OK? You didn't get bit did ya?”
“No. I have a headache, but other than that I'm fine.” Lily dropped the tire iron in the bed of the truck and opened the passenger door. “Phil was it? Lemme see that empty magazine. Least I can do is replace your ammo.”
Phil looked her up and down before pulling an empty magazine from his back pocket. Lily took the magazine and didn't trust the look on his face. She pulled her pistol from the backpack as well as a loaded magazine to give to Phil.
“Why don't you come back to town with us. You can clean up and relax a bit. Maybe we can have some fun,” Phil said. “What do you say?”
Lily shook her head. “Thanks, but—” Phil punched her in the gut.
“What the fuck are you doing!”
“Wasn't a request, sweetheart. I risked my life to save your pretty little ass, and I'm going to get a reward,” Phil said as he slammed her head against the side of the truck. “Don't back out on me now, Dan. This was the fucking plan.” Lily's vision turned gray then narrowed and faded entirely.
***
Pain greeted Lily as she came to. Her right foot throbbed, drumming out the increasing rhythm of her pulse that echoed in her head as she became aware of her situation. Her left shoulder burned, and stabbing pains lanced across her back. She whimpered softly as dull, consistent waves of pain washed over her body every time she tried to move.
She opened her eyes. Heavy blackness continued to envelope her. She forced her eyes shut and quickly opened them again.
This means one of two things. A. It’s still dark out. Or B. There’s no window in this room.
Lily’s mind jumped into high gear as she grappled between trying to stay calm and feeling the cool, smooth wood floor against the bare skin of her hip. She knew wasn’t in her truck, and that terrified her. The last thing she remembered was nearly breaking her ankle as she tried to get away from a nice old woman’s house, and changing a flat on the side of the road.
She rolled her shoulder to bring back feeling from resting awkwardly on her arm as she moved to rub her eyes and check the lumps on her head. Something bit her wrists. Reflexively she yanked her arm away only to find it pulled on her other arm. She wanted to scream, but the last few days had taught her to check such feelings.
Panic kills.
Lily repeated the thought to the exclusion of all else. After moment, she slowed her racing thoughts and started walking through the problem.
First she had to get her hands in front of her. Since rolling her arms over her head was out of the question, she had to stretch her hands down, under her butt, while bringing her knees to her chest. It wasn't comfortable, and it required stretching in a way she hadn't in a while. At one point she nearly panicked because she felt stuck, but she was able to thread her feet between her arms and slowly unfold herself.
Now, with her hands in front of her again, she could work on figuring out where she was and what to do about it. Still laying on the floor, she stretched out. Her hands and feet ran into hard walls. She rolled onto her hands and knees and ran her fingers around the baseboards of the small closet, until the knuckles hit cold hard steel. To her horror, she realized it was the door.
Why is the door metal?
Outside she heard the muffled voices of two men. Lily came to two possible conclusions: To keep people out, or to keep her in. She only entertained the first conclusion to try to make herself feel better.
It didn’t work.
Suddenly the world and the darkness became stiflingly close. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps.
Panic kills. Panic kills.
She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to calm down. Yes she was tied up, naked in a closet with her attackers outside, but if she wanted to escape, she knew she had to stay calm and think.
Panic kills.
Lily took a deep breath and held it for a moment. By the time she counted to twelve, she felt collected enough to try to find a way out of her predicament.
She brought her wrists to her lips trying to find the knot. After a minute of searching by feel she couldn’t even feel rope around her wrists. The panic started to surge through her once aga
in. Then she felt plastic brush sharply against her lips. They had used zip ties and left just enough room for circulation. For effort sake, she tried to pull against the zip ties; it didn’t surprise her when it didn’t give.
Fine. I’ll just chew through the goddamned thing.
She twisted her wrists, trying to find enough slack to chew on the plastic. It didn’t take long for her to rule out chewing the restraint off. There just wasn’t a place where she could get her teeth sunk in.
Lily sat there for a moment, naked in the closet, and thought about crying. She thought of having to tell her father that on her way across a country taken over by a couple million undead cannibals, two men had gotten the best of her. That turned her fear to determination fueled by anger at wasted time.
I don’t even know how long I’ve been in here. My parents are waiting for me, and these assholes are standing in the way, dammit. Now, get up!
Lily stood up slowly, sliding up along the side wall. Something sharp bit her shoulder. Instead of jerking away, she kept her shoulder next to the cause of the blissful pain until her fingers touched the cut off nail. In a grotesque pirouette, she turned to face the wall, hitting her head on the hanger bar as she finished standing up.
It took a long while to grind through the plastic zip-tie. Her wrists and fingers oozed fresh blood as she scraped the plastic against the rough edge of the nail. The band popped so suddenly that Lily couldn’t help hitting herself in the chin. She winced as pins and needles danced along her hands.
She ran her hands around the walls looking for the end of the hanger bar she'd found with her head. The lip at the wall went all the way around the dowel rod. She slid her hand along the bar to the other end and found the half-cup. With the barest whisper of metal sliding against wood, she lifted the end of the hanger rod out and pulled her make-shift weapon to her side.
Dead Man's Party Page 1
