Dead World (Book 1): Dead Come Home (16 page)

Joseph straightened up some, as though he was a little proud of himself. Mike went to the hall closet and pulled out an old blanket. He threw it at Joseph and jerked his thumb towards the kitchen window. Joseph didn’t argue.

Mike grabbed some of the better blankets and the sleeping bag and carried them to the master bedroom. Joseph waited for him in the living room.

“While we’re at it, let’s round up a few more things from around the house,” Mike said. “In the near bedroom closet there are some backpacks and overnight duffle bags.”

Joseph stalked down the hall. Mike went into the bathroom and emptied the medicine cabinet. There wasn’t much, but he did find a bottle of aspirin, some chewable
Pepto-Bismol
, a half-bottle of antibiotics, and some heavy-duty painkillers. He stopped at the hall closet again. He bent down to the bottom shelf where he knew there should be a first-aid kit and a couple
Mag-Lite
flashlights.

They met back in the master bedroom. Mike thought for a moment. He went into the closet again. He came back out with two leather jackets. Both the jackets were in good condition and about the same size.

Joseph slung the jacket on and zipped it half way up. Mike did the same then picked up the Winchester. Joseph reached down and grabbed the bat.

“We go out the front door, take care of the three around the truck, get the helmets and come back.”

Joseph nodded.

Mike walked out of the room and stopped a few paces in front of the door. Joseph slipped past him and unlocked the door. He turned and looked at Mike. Mike brought the rifle to his shoulder and nodded.

Joseph pulled the door open and followed Mike outside.

Mike stepped through the door and away from the Blazer. Joseph barreled through the door and swung at the one looking at its reflection in the truck window. Its head sandwiched between the bat and the window, which, luckily, did not break. The middle-aged man stood there for nearly a second. Joseph reared back to swing again. The man slid down the window and landed in a heap.

Mike watched as Joseph opened the passenger door, climbed halfway in and grabbed the helmets. He could see Joseph panic as a woman with part of her face chewed off and missing most of the fingers on her right hand started to come around the front end of the Blazer. Mike took a breath, sighted and calmly blew off the woman’s mangled head. He shifted his aim to the back of the truck where another one was running straight at him. Mike rushed to pull the trigger. The adolescent spun around from the shoulder impact.

In what seemed like slow motion, he cocked the rifle and pulled back the hammer. His target had already recovered and was coming at him again. He waited until the boy was almost on top of him. The round went in his open mouth and exploded the back of its neck, severing the spinal cord. The boy dropped like a sack of potatoes. Mike stepped up and used the rifle butt to shove the boy’s nose into his brain.

Joseph shut the door and handed Mike one of the helmets. They hurried back inside and shut the door.

“Don’t lock it. We’ll be going back out that door soon,” Mike said, walking to the sliding glass door in the master bedroom. “Give me a hand.”

Joseph put down the bat and the helmet. They flipped the mattress back onto the bed and out of the way.

“Put on the helmet and leave the bat,” Mike said, opening the back door.

Joseph slipped the helmet over his head and followed Mike into the back yard. The shed was less than twenty feet from the main house. Mike reached to his belt for his keys. He couldn’t find them where they were supposed to be. He wondered where he could have left them, especially since the Blazer’s keys were on the same D-ring as his house keys.

Joseph stepped up behind him and pulled the D-ring off his belt loop. It was heavily muffled, but Mike thought he said “Sorry.”

Mike took the keys and unlocked the door to the shed. He stepped to the side so Joseph could go in. With his back to the door, he took his left hand off the rifle and pointed at two boxes on the floor.

Joseph stepped in and grabbed one of the boxes. He carried it wordlessly into the master bedroom. Mike waited for Joseph to come back and get the second box. Given what they had just picked up at the store, the MREs weren’t essential, but Mike figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

Joseph came back a moment later and picked up the second box. Mike backed through the door behind Joseph. Mike set the rifle against the wall and closed the sliding glass door. He reached over and set the lock bar into place.

Joseph returned by the time he was ready to move the barricade back into place. Mike picked up the rifle and signaled Joseph to follow him to the bedroom.

Mike opened one of the backpacks and one of the boxes. He shoved a half-dozen MREs into the bottom of the pack. He grabbed another backpack and put a half-dozen MREs in it.

“Joe, in the closet on the shelf are a couple boxes of rounds for the Winchester.”

Joseph walked to the closet before Mike could actually ask him to get the boxes. He came out of the closet and dropped one box of rounds into the two backpacks and the third into one of the empty duffle bags.

Mike partially unfolded and then rolled two of the blankets. He put one blanket in each backpack, making sure to keep the ammo on the top. He scooped the handful of medications into the backpack he planned to keep. He put the first-aid kit in Joseph’s backpack. He then secured one flashlight in the side slot of each pack.

Joseph opened the second box of MREs and started loading them into the other duffle bags. He packed the remaining blankets.

“What else?”

Mike turned and went into the closet again. He returned with a couple pairs of boots and some long-sleeved shirts. He made a second trip and came back with an armload of jeans and cargo pants. Joseph grabbed his jeans and shoes out of the bathtub. They shoved it all in one duffle bag.

Suddenly, something beat on the front door. Joseph jumped. Mike listened. The pounding was rhythmic, as if someone or a group of people were trying to beat the door in.

“It was only a matter of time after all the noise we made earlier,” Mike said standing up. “Put your helmet back on. And take the axe, too.”

Joseph put on his helmet, picked up an axe, and followed Mike into the living room. Mike set the rifle on the floor behind the barricade, went into the kitchen, and started walking the refrigerator out of its spot on the wall. He had it far enough out for him to unplug it by the time that Joseph had propped his weapons against the inside of the barricade they made earlier.

Mike spun the fridge so he was pulling and Joseph was pushing. They maneuvered it to extend the wall between kitchen and the entryway. Mike realized that if the things really wanted through, the fridge wouldn’t slow them down much, but he was counting on them to follow the funnel, now the path of least resistance.

“Joe, I’m going to open the door. When they come in, I’ll be in the living room with the rifle. You be ready to help me if there are too many.”

“Are you craz …” Joseph didn’t get to finish before the door opened. Mike ran for the living room and jumped over the barricade.

Mike slipped as he landed. He rolled over, grabbed the rifle, and stood ready to shoot.

Two of the “things,” Mike refused to think of them as “people” anymore since they displayed none of the characteristics of humanity, charged through the door. Had he been any slower getting back to the barricade, they would have been right on top of him. For the first time, Mike realized it had become rather dark in the house. Aiming wasn’t impossible, just harder than he would have liked. Light was coming in from the front door, but it only backlit his targets, making it that much harder to aim.

He shot once. His target dropped and stayed down. Mike lined up for the second shot. The thing was close enough for Mike to smell coagulated blood. He lined up the shot and fired.

“Joe, light switch behind you, hit it.”

He looked at the floor for a second as harsh fluorescent light flooded the room. He brought his gaze back up and realized four more were coming at him. Mike shot the one furthest from the kitchen first.

He heard a wet thud sound followed by choked gurgling. Joseph had cut one’s head almost in half with the axe. A second one turned toward Joseph while the third kept coming at Mike.

Mike took a step back and shot the one approaching him in the throat. It fell backwards. From the corner of his eye, Mike saw Joseph dislodge the axe, and in the same motion, use the hammer side to crush the skull of another that had turned toward him. Mike came around the barricade and shot one that was trying to get up.

Two more came through the door, both at a run. Joseph was already halfway around the island counter when they collided with Mike. One fell to the ground with Mike. Mike shoved the body of the rifle into the thing’s mouth.

The other one lunged towards Joseph. He sidestepped and buried a hatchet into its head.

“Clam up,” Joseph yelled through the muffling helmet.

Mike closed his eyes and mouth and turned his head away. Joseph swung the axe, blunt end first, like a golf club. He swung a little higher than he would have liked so he wouldn’t damage the rifle that was clamped between the zombie’s teeth.

The axe caught the middle-aged man just behind the temple and lifted him partially off of Mike. As soon as Mike felt the pressure on the rifle change, he pushed up hard, giving Joseph a second, clearer shot.

Joseph didn’t hesitate, but circled the axe back around and caught the man square in the forehead. Mike rolled the body off of him. Joseph extended his hand to help Mike up.

Mike led the way out the door with the Desert Eagle in hand. There weren’t any more of the things in immediate sight. He signaled Joseph to come out. Joseph stuck his head out first and looked around, then followed Mike to the rear of the SUV.

Mike opened the glass. He checked to the outside of the truck as Joseph slung the duffels into the trunk. Joseph disappeared, leaving Mike to guard the truck. Mike wondered at the change that had come over Joseph in the last two or three hours. When he first met Joseph, it was amazing the young man got out of wherever he’d come from in one piece. Now, Joseph had taken out almost as many of these things as he had, and he’d done it without a gun. He hadn’t done one with his bare hands yet, but it was clear that Joseph was a survivor, the kind of person Hanse would have said should be kept breathing.

Joseph came back and slung the last duffel bag into the truck. Mike closed the glass and prepared to go back inside. Joseph stood stock-still.

“Mike, I know it looks like a couple of kids but please do something; my weapons are inside,” Joseph whispered without moving.

Mike inched around Joseph’s shoulder and saw the kids from across the street staring at them. He forced himself not to think about it as he aimed and shot both in the head, one then the other.

“Joe, since we’re out here, clear the bodies away from the truck.”

Joseph grabbed the shirt of the one by the back tires and, careful to step over the beheaded corpse of the dead woman, dragged it past the front door, just under the kitchen window. He went back and got the other one from the front of the truck. Not eager for a repeat of the esophagus incident, he grabbed her ankles and dragged her out of the way. Joseph finished his grizzly task with the man that he had clubbed against the window.

Mike turned away when he recognized what was left of the father of the children he’d just shot.

They went back inside, chained the door, and threw the deadbolt.

Mike tucked the Desert Eagle away while Joseph continued his morbid job of clearing the bodies from areas they would need. He was shocked by the sudden realization that he hadn’t even heard Joseph so much as gag. In fact, the young civilian now seemed about as cool as a cucumber.

Mike pushed the refrigerator and kitchen table barricade into the center of the living room so they wouldn’t have to go the long way around to get to the kitchen later.

Dead Come Home

Chapter 7

The Monsters Out There

Joseph sat in the middle of the master bedroom on one of the kitchen chairs, with his feet propped up on a second chair, watching the news. Mike walked into the room, dropped a
Beretta
9mm handgun in his lap, and took a few steps towards the small bathroom on the far side.

“What’s this, you trust me with a gun again?” Joseph asked sitting up. Mike turned to face him, removing the
Desert Eagle
from his waistband before dropping out the magazine and inspecting it.

“If you’re coming with me, I better get a warm-and-fuzzy that you know what you’re doing with a weapon,” Mike said, slamming the clip back home and chambering a round. “Well?”

Joseph stood up with the gun in his right hand, his index finger already on the trigger.

“Stop,” Mike shook his head. “What’re you doing? Getting ready to shoot me? You’ve never held a gun before in your fuckin’ life, have you? And you didn’t think this was an important bit of information to pass on to me?”