DEAD (Book 12): End (42 page)

“What is the job?” Lisa moved past me into my room and plopped down on my bed. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t buying any of what I was selling.

“Just something up in Estacada. I will head there tonight and be back before morning most likely.”

“So is it werewolves?” Lisa said that with way too much enthusiasm. I guess this was all just a big adventure to her. She still was not really in tune with the whole “we are monsters” part of things. If she knew how close she’d come to being a late-night snack to Belinda back when we first started hanging out together…perhaps she would be a little more concerned with her own safety.

“No.” I closed my bedroom door. A little bit of dim gray light was starting to spill across the floor of my hallway.

“Then maybe you can let me know what it is, and
I
can decide if it is too dangerous for me or not.” Lisa folded her arms across her chest and cocked one hip. That was teenage girl body language for ‘I ain’t budging until you talk.’

“Zombies,” I said.

Seriously, what could it hurt? In fact, we’d watched a bunch of those movies. Even went to some author’s book signing. Marvin, or Mark, or Mel Tufo…something like that—he had some series that she was just crazy about. She got home that night and wrapped the book in plastic like it was a priceless artifact. I was certain that when I told her it might be zombies that she would see the logic in sitting this one out. After all, I am a ghoul. I was pretty sure I am off the menu.

I could not have been more wrong.

The End?

There are many adventures to come in the
DEAD
world. Perhaps YOUR town will be next…

Turn the page for a sneak preview of

DEAD: Snapshot—Portland, Oregon

Ken ducked instinctively and felt something swish through the air where his head had been just a second ago. Kicking backwards, his foot struck something solid and was greeted with a loud “oof”.

Turning, he saw the punks from inside the store. The one that had reached him first was already doubled over, but he had no chance to defend against the next and took a booted foot to the shoulder. He slammed into the rear of the truck and ended up down on his knees. He could hear the dog barking from the cab of the truck.

“Get him!” Jinks yelled, obviously not the one to lead the charge.

Ken saw the boot coming and moved his head just enough to take little more than a grazing blow to the cheek. His hand was going for his gun as the rest of his attackers arrived. He rolled under the rear of his truck, pulling himself into the fetal position in order to do so.

A set of legs appeared just past the rear tires and Ken brought his gun around. He fired and winced at the loud report. A body fell, the person clutching their wounded leg and rolling back and forth. If not for the ringing in his ears, he would have heard the wail of pain.

Looking to the rear of the truck where the attack had begun, he spied the person that he’d kicked as he or she struggled to reach their feet. Lining up his next shot, he fired again; the person flopped backwards and was still. Scuttling back just a little further, he saw another set of legs. The owner had obviously decided to give up on the attack and was turning to leave. Once more Ken fired. He saw the body sprawl in a pool of blue radiance from one of the parking lot lights.

Waiting a second to ensure there were no other attackers, Ken slowly emerged from under the pickup. His hearing was still hampered, but he heard the cries of the person he’d shot in the leg. He walked over and looked down to discover the young lady with the crewcut.

“P-p-please don’t shoot me!” she wailed, holding up her hands.

Ken looked around to see if anybody might be paying any attention. When he realized that nobody was coming to investigate, he leaned down to the girl and examined her more closely. She was filthy and smelled like it had been a good long while since she’d had a shower.

“I’m not going to shoot you…again,” he added that last word as he tucked his gun back in his belt.

He saw the other two that he’d shot lying where they’d fallen. He also saw a few figures moving with that slow, awkward walk in his general direction. Reaching down, he scooped the girl up. She yelped and struggled weakly in his grasp.

“Shut up, I’m not going to hurt you. You need to see a doctor,” he hissed.

“Just let me go!” she insisted.

Ken looked back at the advancing figures. Turning slightly, he pointed them out. “You want me to leave you to them?”

She seemed to consider her choices and then leaned into his side. He walked her to the front of the truck and opened the door. He cast a look of longing over his shoulder. There was still so much inside the store that he could use, but he needed to check on his mother and get this girl some help. He knew that Legacy Hospital was not too far away. He could drop the girl off at the emergency entrance and then head to his mother’s.

Moving around the car, he heard a scream and, as he unlocked his door, he saw three figures falling on the prone body of one of his attackers. He actually felt sorry for the person. He’d heard that scream from Gina Glendon and could only imagine what was happening to whichever of the male attackers he’d shot.

Climbing into the cab, he was instantly met by the snuffling face of the retriever. He eased in and nudged the dog back into the extended part of the cab behind the front seats. The scream rose in pitch and then went silent in an instant.

“What was that?” the girl asked, sounding for the first time like a frightened young lady.

“Something bad,” was Ken’s reply as he started the truck and headed for the exit. “Now buckle up. I am taking you to the hospital.”

***

Rose backed away. Frank stood, his insides spilling from a rip in his belly. Before she could take another step, Rose heaved, the contents of her stomach making a splash on the hardwood floor of her living room.

Her mind struggled to process what she was seeing, but nothing made any sense. As she fought to get her mind to wrap around what was happening, the two men began to draw closer. Standing in the entry hall, the sounds of frantic barking came from her bedroom where Imp and Circe were shut away.

The two figures, Frank and the neighbor, took step after agonizing step towards her. As the intensity of the barking increased, Frank’s head turned in a jerky movement that was almost inhuman in the way it twitched; very nearly like that of a bird. Rose could not allow them to head down the hallway to her bedroom. She had no idea if they could open a door or not, but she needed to get these two men out of her house.

“Hey!” Rose yelled. Frank’s head came back around and he started towards her once again.

Rose backed to the front door, reaching behind her to open it. She had to actually step closer to the advancing monstrosities for just a second as she pulled her door open. At last she was able to slip around it as the neighbor’s hand swiped at her and missed by just a few inches.

Stepping outside, Rose backed down her stairs and looked around. The entire neighborhood was strangely quiet. It was only late afternoon, and not even children could be seen playing outside or walking down the street. It was as if she were the only person actually at home.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Rose backed down the path once the neighbor and Frank both exited her house. The neighbor reached the first stair and stumbled, landing with a sickening crack as he struck the concrete and tumbled down the three stairs. Frank did not seem to notice and followed in the neighbor’s footsteps. The only thing that was different was that Frank landed on the neighbor who was struggling to try and roll over.

As the two men became disentangled, and the neighbor crawled free, Rose noticed that the man’s arm now had an obscene break in the forearm. Bone jutted through skin, but he took no notice and actually tried to use the arm as he struggled to his feet. Rose had to battle with her rising gorge as she saw the broken forearm bend at the midpoint and then snap in half. The arm was, at this point, totally useless, as the lower half of the forearm was now barely connected by skin and ruined muscle.

Rose walked out into the street and waited as Frank and the neighbor, through some miracle, managed to make it to their feet and continue to pursue her at their slow, awkward pace. Once they reached the end of her driveway, Rose was actually at a loss as to what to do. It wasn’t like she could continue to act as some sort of Pied Piper. She had to figure out a way to ditch the pair and get back to her home.

Then what?
she thought as she backed down the middle of the street.

Almost on cue, her phone rang. She knew by the ringtone that it was her sister. Grabbing the phone from her pocket, Rose thumbed it and answered.

“Hello? Violet?”

“Rose!” Her sister’s voice was frantic. But there was something else about it that sounded off. She couldn’t place it, but there was definitely something off.

“Violet, Frank is here, and there is something wrong—” she began, but her sister cut her off.

“Don’t let him in, Rose. This is every—”

And then the line went dead.

***

“
Dios mio
,” the voice sighed.

Jason had hit the brakes and spun to look in back. Juanita was climbing up from the floor where she had tumbled. He was pretty sure that zombies didn’t talk. Sure, some of the more peculiar books had that going on. He didn’t much care for those, but who knew where the line was drawn between fact and fiction. He would have laughed at the idea of zombies as early as this morning, but events were proving that perhaps truth was as strange as fiction…or something like that.

“Juanita?” Jason asked tentatively. One hand was opening and closing in a tight fist; the other was gripping the door latch. He was pretty sure that he could escape before she bit him.

“Where are we?” the woman asked, rubbing her head tenderly and wincing.

“The hospital.” Jason paused before making his admission. “I thought you might be dead. I was bringing you here to be sure.”

Juanita was silent for a moment before she finally spoke again. “Then you must not have seen what I saw.”

“You mean about the zombies?” Jason blurted. As soon as the word left his mouth he wished that he could get it back. He had already given Juanita enough reasons to ditch him. Showing that he was nuts in the head would not do him any favors.

“So you have seen them,” Juanita whispered.

“Don’t tell me that you think…” His voice trailed off as a woman walked past the car.

They were parked so that they could see the sidewalk that ran along the front of the parking lot where the street went past. The streetlights were all coming on as the light sensors activated them to push back the gloom of the growing darkness of night.

The woman was a bloody mess. There was a strand of what could only be intestine trailing behind her, and as she passed directly under the light, the knife jutting from her chest drew the focus from the missing flesh of her cheek. Her walk was a sort of drag step that reminded Jason of an old man he knew in prison that had suffered a massive stroke. One side of him was partially paralyzed, so his walk was this incredibly awkward gait. Unfortunately, inside, that made him not only a target of ridicule, but also of the general population’s bullies.

“But when I listened to your chest, I didn’t hear a heartbeat,” Jason said weakly.

“Well, I can promise you that I am not a zombie,” Juanita replied as she climbed over the seat.

“So what do we do?”

Juanita thought it over for a moment before turning to face Jason. “I don’t think going into the hospital is a good idea.”

“But your head.”

“I’m fine,” Juanita brushed aside his concern.

“It wouldn’t hurt to be sure,” Jason insisted.

The two craned their necks around to look back at the hospital entrance. Despite the fact that the lot was packed and three ambulances sat in the entry bay with lights on and back doors open, the warm glow of the entrance did not seem to bode ill.

“I will stay right by your side,” Juanita said, patting Jason on the arm.

Together, they took another look around to ensure that there were no more zombies walking past. Once they were fairly certain that the coast was clear, they exited the car, both taking special care to shut the door as quietly as possible.

Without realizing it, they clutched each other’s hand and started toward the entrance to the hospital emergency room. They were just crossing the last crosswalk where the main entrance allowed access to the parking lot when the roar of an engine sounded and the bright headlights of an oncoming vehicle chased away the darkness in a blinding flash. The tires screeched as the driver had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the pair.

So this is what a deer feels like
, a muted voice said from somewhere in the back of Jason’s mind.