State of the Dead - pt. 1

State of the Dead - pt. 1(Brendan Quinn) STATE OF THE DEAD pt.1

By: Brendan E. Quinn


Chapter 1

Billerica, MA
May, 2011

I walked into the 7-11 as I did every morning before work. It was just around the corner from my house so, the convenience store was convenient for me. Plus I got a little exercise. It was about 5:30am, yes I am an early bird, and there was only one car in the parking lot besides the Boston Globe dropping off the paper of the day.

As I walked in, I heard the “ding-dong” of the door bell, a familiar sound to me. I waved to Rasheed at the counter and he nodded back. Towards the back of the store I grabbed a liter of Mountain Dew and headed to the counter. The person who was from the other car was in front of me buying two packs of Marlboro Cigarettes. He even smelled like smoke and it was making me sick. I wasn’t going to say anything because the guy was about seven feet tall, covered in tattoos and bursting with muscles.
When Smokey left I dropped my drink on the counter and pulled out my wallet. I said “hey” to Rasheed. He just kind of grunted.

After I had paid for the drink I would usually buy some lottery tickets, but I took a closer look at Rasheed first. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale. Plus, I missed his usual greetings; whenever I walked into the store he would say “How’s it buddy?”
“You alright?” I asked.
He looked up at me and said, “Huh? Yeah. I’m good. Have a nice day.”
“Ok,” I said. “Later.”

I left the store wondering what was wrong with him. I mean he had owned the store for six years and was always in good spirits. When I was just walking around the corner, I did another one of my routines. I always pet my neighbor’s dog Pooch. He was a scrawny little thing. A mutt of some sort. I walked over to the fence and said, “hey Poochy!”

Then as I reached over the fence to pet him, he started to snarl and bark furiously at me. I flinched back my hand as fast as I could.
“Jeez Pooch! What’s up with you?”

I looked at Pooch’s white coat and saw that some of his belly was red like some type of rash. Even worse than a rash. It looked as if the skin was falling off. I should tell his owner Mr. Johnston.

I walked up the drive and ranged his bell. No answer. Then I knocked for about a minute. I shrugged and figured he was asleep or not at home.

After leaving Johnston’s drive I headed home. I walked in and my dad was sleeping on the couch. Must have been kicked out of the bedroom for snoring again. He would be getting up in an hour for work and mom in a couple more for work.

See their bedroom was downstairs along with the master bath, kitchen, dining and living room. I paid rent to live upstairs. I had my own room, a half bath and a den. Plus a little guest room. Being 25 I had to pay.
In my room I did all my writing work. I had a few degrees in writing and editing. I wrote articles, columns and short stories. Stuff like that.

I was working on a sci-fi story now about vampires. Everyone is into vampires these days. My problem was, I never had any money to publish any of my work and I was saving my money. I needed 8000 to start. In my savings I only had just above 2000.

After typing for five hours straight, I was out like a light sitting up in my chair until I woke up to look at my clock to see that it was around noon.

I got up to crack my back and go downstairs to get a snack and check on the mail.



Chapter 2

I walked downstairs and headed out the door. The flag on the mailbox was down now. It was up earlier so I guess the mailman came already. I walked down the path and opened the box. Junk mail.

When I came back in the house I didn’t see our dog Molly in her usual napping places: the couch, under the table, or under the window on the back door where the sun shone in.

I suspiciously and slowly stepped into the kitchen where I found blood smeared on the floor. The blood smelled, stinging my eyes. When I walked into my parent’s bedroom, I was terrified at what I saw. Molly, our sixty pound dog, her fur almost completely stripped from her body, was ripping pieces of my parents bodies apart. I couldn’t bear the sight. Foolishly I said lightly, “Mom…”

As I said that, Molly turned and saw me, showing razor sharp teeth with flesh stuck between them.

She lunged at me, but I was quick enough to close the bedroom door. She hit the door with such a force that I was knocked onto the bloodied ground.

Without a thought I ran outside. This time through the back door. The garage was opened and I looked inside for a weapon. Finally I came up with an aluminum baseball bat.

I walked down the side of my house and out the gate. There was nobody on the road. Not that I could see at the moment. Then I saw Mr. Johnston.
“Hey! Mr. Johnston! It’s me Brendan. Something happened with my dog and my parents. I need help.”

He turned and looked at me and I could see his face. It was bloody like the dog’s. He gave a slurring growl and sprinted at me.

“Oh shit,” I yelled. Five feet from me he leapt and I swung the bat. He was knocked into the fence. Blood was dripping from all over him, but it seemed he wouldn’t die. Before he got another chance to get up, I swung the bat again and smashed his head like it was rotten fruit.

I stared at the body lying against the fence. And I thought about the dog eating flesh. Even how Rasheed looked this morning. Was this really what I thought it was? Undead walking or some kind of virus?

I’ll have to admit I’ve seen my share of zombie movies. What was going on was similar. I needed some help from someone to make sure I wasn’t going insane.

My neighbor Ed was a security guard once. I think I should check out his house first.

Ed lived right next to me with his wife. I knocked on the porch door and there was no answer. I tried the latch and it was unlocked. So I let myself in. I was afraid of what I got a whiff of when I went inside. Rotting flesh, just like my family at home.

Before I entered the house, it just really hit me that my parents were gone. I must’ve been in shock. I sat on the front porch of Ed’s house and cried for a few minutes until I made myself pull it together. If I was gonna make it and not become a human steak I needed to get help some way.

I opened the door and saw Ed’s wife lying on the floor, her throat was ripped out. If I knew anything about zombie movies you have to sever the head or puncture it. I knew she was coming back so I took a kitchen knife and shoved it into the back of her skull. It made a loud “squish” sound.

After doing something I don’t do on a regular basis, I went into the den and lo and behold was Big Ed. He weighed about 350 pounds and was wearing only jeans, belly flab spilling over the top of them. Plus the blood and slobber dripping from his mouth.

I wasted no time and slammed the bat at his temple and he dropped like a rock. Actually like a boulder.

Now I wanted to see if he still kept a gun in the house. But before I left the den, I saw, mounted on the wall was a Samurai sword. I lifted it off the rack and pulled the sword from its sheath. Its steal shone beautifully in the light coming through the window. I sheathed the sword and carried it and the bat to the master bedroom.

I checked under the bed and the drawers and found nothing. Then at the top of the closet was a lockbox. I pulled it down. Definitely something inside. Of course I didn’t know the combination so I just beat the shit out of it with the bat.

When the latch finally broke open after five minutes of beating, it revealed a gun. I picked it up. It was a .357 revolver. Along with a box of shell. I opened up the cylinder and loaded it.

As I turned I looked into the bedroom mirror. My clothes were covered in blood as well as my upper arms. No blood near my eyes or opened wounds so I don’t think I would be infected.

But I couldn’t go around like this. So I stripped my clothes off, dropped my weapons and headed to Ed’s shower. It took me about half an hour to wash off the blood. As I was showering I had found the washing machine to get whatever blood stains off my clothes I could.



Chapter 3

When my clothes and I were washed, well my black shirt and jeans still had some stains, I decided to look for my friends.

I left the bat, but I slung the sword around my back and tucked the revolver in my belt. The shells I put in my back pocket. I counted around thirty of them.

Jim and Joe, twins who are a couple years younger than me, live two houses across the street. I’ve known them all my life. I hope they’re alive.

Walking down the road I pulled the gun just in case someone or something tries to eat me. Right at the end of the street there are two cars crashed into each other. I can see the driver of one of the cars bleeding all over the steering wheel. Smoke is rising between them.

Unfortunately, the two cars are blocking the entrance to the twin’s house entrance. I tucked the gun into my belt and leaped over the fence into their backyard. Walking up the back porch steps, I moved slowly.
The door is open, but there is no sign of a struggle and no death stench.
I pulled the gun. “Jim? Joe?”
Suddenly, “Boom!”
A huge chunk of the wall in front of me was blown away.
I dove backwards on the floor in surprise. “Whoa! Wait!”
“Oh shit! Sorry Brendan!”
I looked up. It was Nikki standing there with a shotgun. Next to her was Jenna. Nikki is the twin’s cousin. She had a dark complexion and dark hair. Jenna is her friend. She is almost the exact opposite with blonde hair. Both skinny and not the types you would see with a shotgun.
“Where did you get a shotgun Nikki?”
“Oh, uh it’s my dad’s. Or it was.”
“Your parents too huh? Hey Jen.”
Jenna’s eyes were red from crying. Didn’t blame her.
“Why are you in Jim’s house?”
“Well they’re going to Uncle Steve’s house to see if he has any guns.”
Nikki and her family lived next door to Jim and Joe in a duplex. Their uncle lived down the street. He was an ex-cop.

Speak of the devils, the two of them walked in.
Jim and Joe looked exactly the same. Big from wrestling and playing football. Only difference was Jim had blonde hair and Joe was a redhead.
“Hey Brendan. What are you doing here?” asked Jim.
“Actually I came to see if you guys are okay.”
“Well we found these,” Joe held out a bolt action rifle and Jim had a double barrel shotgun.
“Enough ammo?” I asked.
“Not really,” said Joe.
“I need to check up on some people. I think I can get us some weapons,” I said. “Let’s see what we can do about getting some vehicles.”
“We’ll get on it,” said Joe.
“Okay. Wait. Damn, I left my cell at home.”
“Here,” said Nikki. “Take mine.”
She handed me a bedazzled flip phone.
“Thanks,” I told her.
I walked outside and called my friend Sam. She’s my best friend and I know for a fact that her father is a hunter.
The phone rang four times before she picked it up.
“Brendan! Thank God you called. Everything is going crazy here.”
Sam lives in the Northern part of town where there aren’t many people. I’m surprised that she’s seen any mayhem yet.
“Listen,” I said, “You have to get to your van and get any of your father’s hunting guns. Then head to my place. It looks safe around here now. And hurry.”


Chapter 4

I had called Sam at about 3 o’clock. It was about 7 now. I was getting worried. However, it was calm around here. We took turns circling the house for signs of flesh eaters. Nothing.
At about 10 I fell asleep on the front porch chair until I heard a car screech up in front of the house. It was Sam’s van. I rushed over to see if she was okay.
Out the driver’s door I saw her stumble out. She was okay. Thank God.
“What happened?” I asked her.
“The road’s a mess. Crashed cars everywhere. Fires and dead bodies. It’s a madhouse in the north part of town.”
“Well go inside the house. I’ll grab the weapons. Are they in the back of the van?”
“Yeah. I have two shotguns and two rifles. Not much ammo though. My dad’s been hunting a lot. I gotta get a drink.”
“Go ask one of the guys in the house for something and they’ll get it for you.”
She nodded and headed inside, up the porch steps. I went into the back of the van and found two bolt action rifles and two shotguns. One was a double barrel and one was a pump action. In a gym bag was a couple cases of shells for each guns.
After taking the guns inside I put Jim on duty and then Joe would take over after him so we could do four hour shifts and get sleep.
I went into one of the twins’ bedrooms and rested my shotgun against the wall and took the pistol from my belt and laid it on the side table. Once I hit the bed I was out like a light.


Chapter 5

I was awoken by Joe who said I needed to see something right away. I put on my shirt and grabbed my guns. He led me to the front porch. I didn’t need him to tell me what was so urgent. The open parking lot of the church across the way had about fifteen undead walkers coming toward the house.
“What do you think they’re coming here for?” asked Jim.
“Maybe they are coming for us. Wait. Who has the rifle?” I said.
“I do,” said Sam.
“Let me see for a sec.” She handed it to me. I looked out at the zombies through the scope on the rifle and recognized some of them. “The fat guy in the overalls. That’s Buddy the mechanic. And Rasheed from the 7-11. I can make out about seven or eight of these guys. We’re gonna have to fend them off if they come closer.”
“We can’t stay here Brendan,” said Sam. “I have a bad feeling. I mean we have no provisions.”
“And I’m no soldier over here,” piped up Jenna, grasping a rifle with sweaty palms.
“Soldiers….,” I whispered. “Sean. Sam do you have a CB in the van?”
“Yeah I do actually.”
“Good I need to use it. While I do, I need you two,” I pointed at Jim and Joe,” to see if you can get that truck working.”
As they went looking for the keys for the truck, I headed for the van. I knew my friend Sean’s frequency for his CB at his house. He was a soldier and served two terms in Iraq. I tuned in the knobs till I got his voice.
“Sean, Sean come in this is Brendan. Sean can you hear me?”
“Brendan? Thank God someone else is alive. I’m stuck in my basement with Mike, Justin and Brian. Everyone is a zombie or something. Is it the same with you?”
“Yeah but it’s not as bad down here. I have a plan. I’m gonna come get you. I need your experience if I can make this work. Do you have any weapons?”
“Just my M4. The other guys are unarmed. But I know where to get weapons. The police station. That is if it isn’t run over.”
“Right. Expect us in about four to five hours. Don’t shoot. Over and out.”


Chapter 6

Sean’s house was a good ten miles away. Jim drove the pickup truck while Joe and I sat in the bed and picked off stray dead walkers with rifles, while Sam and the girls followed in the van.
He was right about being blocked in by the zombies. He lived on a strip of houses but his was the first on the beginning of the block. His one floor house had a sedan crashed into the front door. It was completely in flames. Looking down the block I could see a lot of dead people on the ground but none were walking.
I told the girls to wait in the van. The boys and I grabbed shotguns and fully loaded them. I’d been to Sean’s house enough to know where the basement entrance was. Behind the house was a hatch. Unfortunately there were six undead standing around it. One was his mother. I shivered because I remembered how sweet she was and I thought of my mother too. But I had to deal with the now.
“Aim for the heads,” I told the guys.
After several loud shots they were put down. I approached the hatch leading to the basement. I banged on it with the butt of the gun and yelled for Sean.
With a squeak it opened and there was my friend with his assault rifle.
“Are you in need of assistance?” I asked sarcastically.
“Funny,” he said.
He came out and Mike, Justin and Brian followed.
“Come on. Hop in the truck and let’s head to the police station.”
After a short ten mile drive to the station we all got out of the cars and entered a very quiet building.
“You said there were guns here Sean?” I said after looking everywhere for half an hour.
“Hey it’s a police station. Cops have guns.”
Just when we were giving up hope Jim called from the back room.
“Guys. Come here!”
We all went to where he was. There was a door that said Weapons Room. I walked over to it and turned the knob. It was locked. I wasted no time and pulled out my pistol and blew the lock off and kicked the door open.
I walked inside to see automatic rifles, machine guns, shotguns, pistols, grenades and gear.
“Jackpot,” I whispered.


Chapter 7

It was four months after being in Billerica Massachusetts. There were nine of us now. Together we created a group that helped each other and watched out for each other making sure neither one of us would be attacked.
In our little convoy, we had Sam’s van with two small bunks in the back, an RV we found abandoned, and a flatbed truck which we held our supplies.
Every day we would look for food. The flatbed at the time was only half full of canned goods and bottles of water and other imperishable foods. We even seemed to be blessed with a few toiletries. The shower in the RV was just alright but not very cozy.
The first thing we did was raid the supermarket. When we went in it looked as though other people had the same idea about grabbing as much food as they could. So it wasn’t a homerun, but we did hit a few convenience stores.
The food wasn’t the biggest problem. A week ago we were about a mile from a group of survivors in a bunch of cars like we had. Then we heard gunshots. Sean and I looked through a few pair of binoculars we took from the Billerica station.
“There’s no zombies,” said Sean.
“Look to the left,” I told him.
We were all out of our cars when we saw a group of men on motorcycles and a large pickup truck. They were armed with shotguns and pistols. It turned out that they were the ones doing the shooting. We took the chance of looking for a few more minutes as the men took all the supplies and loaded it into their truck.

After that we turned and ran with our tails between our legs. They were about 3o in number, with large muscles and tattooed to the max. And besides the fact that we were armed to the teeth, we were all in our early 20s. We called the men Stealers.
When we reached the town of Andover and stopped at six for the night, we did our usual rounds. There was no need for looking for ammo. But down the strip of stores was a small health food store, a gas station with a snack place and a convenience store.
I had taken charge of all of us with Sean by my side.
“Alright, I want volunteers. I’m taking the grocery store with Sean. I want three others with me.”
Mike, Justin and Joe said they’ll come. After that Brian went to check out the gas station, the girls went to the corner store and Jim was left to guard the vehicles, giving three shots off if there was any trouble.
As the three of us entered the sliding doors with a broken window, I loaded my M4 and cocked my berretta and put it into my hip holster. The others did the same with their rifles and shotguns.
“Ok,” I said, “I’m gonna take the left side of the store and I’m taking Joe with me. The rest of you go right.”
Nobody disagreed. We went our separate ways.

When Joe and I turned the corner shelves there was a zombie eating the guts out of a fellow co-worker. It heard us, looked up and leaped toward us. Joe and I fired a few shots and took him down.
In the background I assumed the other three ran into a few undead as I heard some gunshots.
“Here,” said Joe. He handed me a shopping cart and then grabbed his own. Half an hour later the five of us left the store with as much food and water as we could.
Suddenly we heard three shots.
“That’s Jim!” I shouted.
We left the shopping carts and headed to the cars. Jim was on the flatbed firing shots off at about 20 zombies. Immediately the five of us opened fire as we came close enough. Blood and flesh went flying everywhere. Finally the zombies went down as I ran out of ammo and grabbed a new magazine and slapped it in.
“Where are the girls? And Brian?” I yelled
“Over here,” I heard Sam yelling as he, Jenna and Nikki came running towards us. “Sorry but we got here as fast as we could.”
“As long as you’re safe.”
I looked around and noticed we weren’t all there
As if reading my mind Sean said,” Where’s Brian?”
“The gas station. I’ll see what’s up,” I told him.” Get all this stuff loaded into the truck, okay. Come and get me if I’m not back in 20.”
I jogged down the road and reached the Mobil station. Opening the door was the familiar ring of the bell from the 7-11. I saw Brian’s shotgun on the floor. Curious. Behind the snack shelf, which was empty, I heard a rustling.
With my gun raised I turned around the shelf and saw Brian with his back to me. But his shirt was covered in blood.
“Brian?” I asked quietly.
He turned and I was horrified to see the dead look on his face. He was turned. Without thinking I shot him in the forehead. Down he went.
As he was on the floor I checked his body and my suspicion was right. He was bitten on the arm. Must have been some time last week when we had a run in with ten zombies at the North Reading food store. By our calculations it takes only a few hours to a week to turn depending on the bite.
“Sorry man,” I said as I left the store.
I jogged back to the vehicles and Sean was the first to realize that he was dead.
Mike spoke up. “That gunshot. You killed him?”
“I had to, he turned. He was bitten. Can’t do anything for him now. Come on let’s leave this place. It’s not safe to sleep here.”


Chapter 8

Two weeks later, we were doing fine. We made our way to some crap town in New York. Our goal of the day was to actually raid a Wal-Mart. We needed new clothes and toiletries.
Mike stayed behind to guard the cars as the rest of us went inside. Surprisingly, everything was in perfect condition. Now undead everywhere.
The girls went to try on clothes and the guys and I went to see what was in the men’s section. We also loaded up on medicine like Aspirin and shampoo which was a luxury to us.
I called Sean to the side while the others continued to grab things.
“I have a theory. As we have been going west we have been seeing less zombies. Now it could be just this area but maybe, just maybe, west is better. What do you think?”
He scratched his scruffy unshaved face. “Well I guess we can try. We still have plenty of ammo and rations. Yeah let’s do it.”
“Okay,” I said.
When we were done we left the door for the parking lot. Right in front of the flatbed was a large man in leathers with a bowie knife to Mike’s throat.
Surrounding the man were others who were dressed similar. They looked like a bigger gang. A gang that was pointing shotguns and pistols at us. I counted eight of them.
“Drop your weapons kid. Or I’ll slit this one’s throat,” said the man with the knife.
“We don’t want any trouble,” I told him as I dropped my rifle and pistol.
“You the man in charge?” he asked me.
“Yes. Can you let my boy go? You can take what you want.”
“I’ll be giving the orders around here,” he said, throwing Mike to the ground and pulling a revolver from his waist band and pointing it at me.
His men approached us.
“Turn and get up against the wall. Tell the good Lord Big Zeke and his crew sent you.”
I heard several things at once. The girls whimpering, Sean saying a small prayer, and the cocking of the men’s guns.
Then I heard gunfire.
But I wasn’t dead. I just head Zeke yell “Oh shit!”
I turned and three of his men went down. Zeke and the rest hightailed it to their bikes and the truck and skidded out of there.
“Where the hell did those shots come from?” asked Justin.
“I don’t know,” said Sean.
I saw four men come from the side of the store. Behind them was a truck with one man inside driving. The man in front approached me. He was carrying an Uzi.
“You can pick up your weapons. We don’t mean any harm.”
He was about my age with spiky hair and glasses. The other men had their weapons lowered.
“I owe you thanks my friend,” I told the stranger. “Name’s Brendan and this is my crew.”
“Tim,” he replied. “This is Paul, Artie, Rich, and Matt in the truck. We’ve been scrounging around for food and weapons. Those biker guys already took two thirds of our supplies and killed three of us before.”
“We saw them from afar,” I told him. “We figured we might run into them sometime. I owe you for saving us.”
“Well I really shouldn’t, but could you spare a couple guns?”
“Yeah, we raided a S.W.A.T. team weapons room.”
Mike and Joe went to the flatbed and pulled out two shotguns, a pistol and a rifle.”
“Many thanks,” said Tim. “Where are you headed now?”
“We are headed west. We figured the further west we go the less undead we see.”
“Negative. We have come all the way from California. Still the same everywhere.”
“Shit,” I said under my breath. “Alright man. Thanks from keeping us from getting killed. Where are you headed by the way?”
“South. I heard there is a place where there is no infection. No zombies.”
“Well good luck.”
I shook his hand and we departed our separate ways.


Continued in Part 2...