City of the Dead

CITY OF THE DEAD

BY

BRIAN KEENE

i HIGH PRAISE FOR BRIAN KEENE AND THE RISING!

"[Brian Keene's] first novel, The Rising, is a postapocalyptic narrative that revels in its blunt and visceral descriptions of the undead."

-The New York Times Book Review

"[The Rising is] the most brilliant and scariest book ever written. Brian Keene is the next Stephen King."

-The Horror Review

"The Rising is more terrifying than anything currently

on the shelf or screen." n ?,

-Rue Morgue

"The Rising is chock-full of gore and violence...an

apocalyptic epic." ^

r J -Fangona

"The Rising by master wordsmith and storyteller Brian Keene is a gruesome and macabre tale of horrific madness sweeping across the civilized world."

-Midwest Book Review

"An apocalyptic epic packed with violence, gore, scares and moral dilemmas. Brian Keene has given

zombies their next upgrade." ?, ^

-Cemetery Dance

"Hoping for a good night's sleep? Stay away from The Rising. It'll keep you awake, then fill your dreams with lurching, hungry corpses wanting to eat you." -Richard Laymon, author of Resurrection Dreams

"More power to Brian Keene. He reminds us that horror fiction can deal with fear, not just indulge it." -Ramsey Campbell, author of The Overnight

ii MORE PRAISE FOR BRIAN KEENE AND THE RISING

"Quite simply, the first great horror novel of the new millennium!" _Dark Fiuidity

"Brian Keene is one of the best new writers in the horror genre. Period."

-Edward Lee, author of Flesh Gothic

"With The Rising, Brian Keene has forever raised the bar for extreme horror; this novel is not only gloriously grotesque, it's also smart, literate, exceptionally written, and filled with fully-realized characters that readers can actually care about. It doesn't get much better than this."

-Gary A. Braunbeck, author of In Silent Graves

"With Keene at.the wheel, horror will never be the same" -Hellnotes

"Stephen King meets Brian Lumley. Keene will keep you turning the pages to the very end."

-Terror Tales

"Different, unique and cool-this one doesn't

disappoint!"

-Domain of the Dead

"Definitely transcends your basic run-of-the-mill

horror." ~, ? . ,

-The Haunted

"A must-read for fans of the living dead. Fresh, innovative and full of suspense!"

-All Things Zombie

iii CITY BEAD

BRIAN MINE

LEISURE BOOKS

NEW YORK CITY

iv For Devon. Thanks for making

your Uncle Brian believe again...you saved

my life and only you and I know it.

A LEISURE BOOK�

June 2005

Published by

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

200 Madison Avenue New York, NY 10016

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware \ that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

Copyright �2005 by Brian Keene

This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

"Our Dream," lyrics by Tony d'Mattia. Copyright �2003 by Fiz. Used by permission.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

ISBN 0-8439-5415-9

The name "Leisure Books" and the stylized "L" with design are!

trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

Printed in the United States of America.

Visit us on the web at www.dorchesterpub.com

v ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks to: Cassandra; Shane Staley; Don D'Auria; the Cabal; my fellow Necrophobiacs Mike, John and Brett; my overworked bodyguard Big Joe; Mark, Matt and Deena for once again being my eyes and ears; John, Shane and Chris of Drop of Water Productions; Greg Nicotero and Chad Savage (they know why); Ken Foree; Gary Klar; Reggie Bannister; Fiz, for the use of his lyrics; Alan Clark; Lisa, Ron and Kevin, winners of the fan club contest; Rich and Tim, who know what time it is; Jon Merz and Sean Terwilliger for their technical assistance; Ryan Harding for a really cool idea; and finally, to all the fans who read The Rising and wrote to me about how much the ending pissed them off...

vi Other Leisure books by Brian Keene: THE RISING

vii AUTHOR'S NOTE

Although New York City and New Jersey are real, I have taken fictional liberties with them. So if you live there, don't look for your house or your favorite coffee shop. You won't find it, and probably wouldn't want to know what lives there now.

viii "What is best of all is beyond your reach

forever; not to be born, not to be, to be nothing. But

the second best for you-is quickly to die."

-Silenus

"During those days men will seek

death, but will not find it; they will long to

die, but death will elude them."

-Book of Revelation, Chapter 9, Verse 6

"I know that we will rise."

-Fiz, "Our Dream"

"And the city of nations fell... for the plague was exceedingly great."

-Book of Revelation, Chapter 16, Verse 19

1 ONE

Standing next to their battered Humvee, Jim, Martin, and Frankie stared into the distance. A cemetery stretched off to the horizon along both sides of New Jersey's Garden State Parkway, and the highway cut right through the graveyard's center. Thousands of tombstones thrust upward to the sky, surrounded by tenements and overgrown vacant lots. Tombs and crypts also dotted the landscape, but the sheer number of gravestones almost overwhelmed them.

Jim said, "I remember this place. It used to freak me out every time I drove up here to pick up Danny or drop him off. Creepy, isn't it?"

"It's something all right," Frankie gasped. "I've never seen so many tombstones in one place. It's fucking huge!"

The old preacher whispered something beneath his breath.

"What'd you say, Martin?"

He stared across the sea of marble and granite.

"I said that this is our world now. Surrounded on all sides by the dead."

2

Frankie nodded in agreement. "As far as the eye can see."

"How long after all these buildings crumble," Martin sighed, "will these tombstones remain standing? How long after we're gone will the dead remain?"

Martin shook his head sadly. They finished examining the Humvee for any damage suffered during their last battle with the dead, at a government research facility in Hellertown, Pennsylvania. It was an experiment at this facility that had led to the dead coming back to life in the first place. Jim and the others had been attacked outside the facility and barely escaped, and now they were back on their journey to save Jim's young son, Danny.

Satisfied that the Humvee hadn't suffered major damage, they continued on their way.

As the sun began to set, its last faint rays shone upon the sign in front of them.

BLOOMINGTON-NEXT EXIT

Jim began to hyperventilate.

"Take that exit."

Martin turned around, concerned.

"Are you okay, Jim? What is it?"

Jim clenched the seat, gasping for air. He felt nauseous!

His pulse pounded in his chest and his skin grew cold. "I'm scared," he whispered. "Martin, I'm just so scared. I don't know what's going to happen."

Frankie cruised down the exit ramp and flicked on the headlights. The tollbooths stood empty, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Which way?" Jim didn't answer, and they were unsure whether he'd even heard her. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he'd begun to tremble.

"Hey," Frankie shouted from the front seat, "you

3

want to see your kid again? Snap the fuck out of it and get your shit together. Now which way?"

Jim opened his eyes. "Sorry, you're right. Go to the bottom of the ramp and make a left at the light. Go up three blocks and then make a right onto Chestnut. There's a big church and a video store on the corner."

Jim exhaled, long and deep, and began to move again. He sat the rifles aside and double-checked the pistol, shoving it back into the holster after he was satisfied. He pressed himself into the seat and waited, while his son's neighborhood flashed by outside.

A zombie wearing a tattered delivery uniform jumped out from behind a cluster of bushes. It clutched a baseball bat in its grimy hands.

"There's one." Martin rolled down the window enough to squeeze off a shot.

"No," Frankie said, stopping him. "Don't shoot at them unless they directly threaten us or look like they're following."

"But that one will tell others," he protested. "The last thing we need to do is attract more!"

"Which is exactly why you don't need to be shooting at it, preacher. By the time it tells its rotten little friends that the lunch wagon is here, we can grab his boy and get the fuck out. You start shooting and every zombie in this town is gonna know we're here and where to come find us!"

"You're right." Martin nodded, and rolled the window back up. "Good thinking."

An obese zombie waddled by, dressed in a kimono and pulling a child's red wagon behind her. Another one sat perched in the wagon, its lower half missing and few remaining entrails and yellow curds of fat spilling out around it. Both creatures grew agitated as they sped by,

4

and the fat zombie loped along behind them, fists raised in anger.

Frankie slammed on the brake, slammed the Humvee into reverse, and backed up, crushing both the zombies and the wagon under the wheels. The vehicle rocked from the jolt.

She grinned at Martin. "Now wasn't that much quieter than a gunshot?"

The preacher shuddered. Jim barely noticed either of his companions. His pulse continued to race, but the nausea was gone, replaced with a hollow emptiness.

How many times had he driven down this same suburban street, either to pick Danny up or to take him home? Dozens, but never suspecting that one day he'd do so armed to the teeth and riding in a hijacked military vehicle with a preacher and an ex-hooker. He remembered the first time, right after his first complete summer with Danny. Danny started crying when Jim turned onto Chestnut, not wanting his father to leave. The big tears rolled down his little face when they pulled into the driveway, and were still flowing when Jim reluctantly drove away. He'd watched Danny through the rear-view mirror and waited until he was out of sight before he pulled over and broke down himself.

He thought of Danny's birth. The doctor placed him in his arms for the first time. He'd been so small and tiny, his pink skin still wet. His infant son crying then too, and when Jim cooed to him, Danny opened his eyes and smiled. The doctors and Tammy insisted it wasn't a smile, that babies couldn't smile; but deep down inside, Jim had known better.

He thought of the summers that he and his second wife, Carrie, spent with Danny. The three of them had played Uno, and Danny and Carrie caught him cheating,

5

hiding Draw Four cards under the table in his lap. They'd wrestled him to the floor, tickling him till he admitted the deception. Later, they sat on the couch together, eating popcorn and watching Godzilla and Mecha-Godzilla trash Tokyo.

The message that Danny had left on his cell phone a week ago echoed through his mind as they turned a corner.

"I'm on Chestnut," Frankie reported. "Now what?"

"I'm scared, Daddy. I know we shouldn't leave the attic, but Mommy's sick and I don't know how to make her better. I hear things outside the house. Sometimes they just go by and other times I think they're trying to get in. I think Rick is with them."

"Jim? JIM!"

Jim's voice was quiet and far away. "Past O'Rourke and Fischer, then make a left onto Platt Street. It's the last house on the left."

In his head, Danny was crying.

"Daddy, you promised to call me! I'm scared and I don't know what to do ..."

"Platt Street," Frankie announced and made the turn. She drove past the houses, each lined up in neat rows, each one identical to the next, save for the color of their shutters or the curtains hanging in the vacant windows. "We're here."

She put the Humvee in park and left the engine running.

"... and I love you more than Spider-Man and more than Pikachu and more than Michael Jordan and more than 'finity, Daddy. I love you more than infinity."

The phrase had haunted him over the last few days, resonating with double meaning. It had been a game he and Danny had shared, something to ease the pain of

6

long-distance phone calls from West Virginia to New Jersey. But one of the zombie's he'd faced during the trip had also used the phrase.

"We are many. Our number is greater than the stars. We are more than infinity."