Dead To US: Episode 2: Infected States Of America, #2

By Aaliyah Abdul

"We know how the virus began, and why. Now we need to survive the aftermath, the living, and the dead."

Determined to save their family and friends, Alex and City return to Broken Horn, only to find more dead than living. Meanwhile, Thaddeus' group encounter old and new faces as the effects of the Nero Virus continue to spread.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aaliyah Abdul
• Release date: May 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498984997

Aaliyah Abdul

As a fan of the zombie and horror genres, I've made it my goal as a writer to craft interesting and unforgettable stories and realistic characters. To the reader(s), thank you for joining me on this endeavor. I hope you enjoy the ride.

Book preview

The story so far:

In the season premier of the new zombie/infected series, Dead To US, the story began on a small Native American community in North Dakota where a deadly new flu strain, which only affected people under the age of 25, had gripped a handful of states.

With communications as dead as the older generation in his community, and winter fast approaching, 22 year old City Morrisseau knew the situation was grim. But after receiving a cryptic message from a dying member of the community, City was certain that things were only going to worsen.

On their last tank of gas, City and his sister's fiancé, Alex Little, decided to depart for Bismarck in search of a vaccine. Their journey is met with new friends, a clandestine military group, and the truth about the deadly virus.

EPISODE II:

CASEY

ONE

Three hours ago

A shovel pierced the snow covered ground.

Soil parted and crumbled as Troy Yates drove the shovel deeper with the arch of his boot. A black bandana patterned with small red petals covered his face from his cleft chin to his broad nose. But the thin fabric wasn’t enough to keep the smell of death out of his nostrils. As if it mattered.

After weeks of burying the dead the stench of burnt flesh was like an unwelcomed guest in Troy’s lungs that was in no hurry to leave.

Eight feet of charred bodies were piled up in the open grave to his right. More dead were waiting inside of the hospital’s morgue. Troy was joined by two other men from the community the day before. Today, it was just him.

The contagious virus was determined to rid the population of anyone old enough to drink alcohol, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. At the age of twenty-eight, Troy knew it was only a matter of time before someone else was throwing dirt on his diseased carcass. He just hoped it wouldn’t be his young son. 

A layer of grey clouds hovered overhead, sealing in the air of despair that choked Broken Horn. Troy thrust the shovel into the dirt mound, and wiped his brow. He peered past the empty field, and beyond the old road that the residents of Broken Horn had used so many times.

City Morrisseau and Alex Little were expected to return any time now with a vaccine Troy doubted existed. He came to the conclusion long ago that there was no easy way out of this mess, no miracle cure to save the living from a fate worse than death.

As Troy loaded the shovel, and began covering the grave again, the crackling sound of moving joints grabbed his attention. Troy’s heart nearly stopped as he turned in the direction of the noise. Burned and blackened, the remains of the dead moved around in the grave as if they were trying to escape. His olive skin turned ghastly white in an instant, his eyes shuddered with disbelief as skeletons grabbed, and clawed their way out of the grave.

Troy’s legs began to tremble and buckle, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dead. Before he realized it, the fear crawling through his nerves had pulled him to the ground. Snow dug into his fingernails as he fixed his eyes on the first carcass to poke its charred head out of the hole in the ground. A few strands of dark hair protruded from strips of crispy skin that clung to the body of the carcass.

With elongated fingers, the carcass slowly pulled itself closer to Troy. Its teeth were locked in what Troy thought was a gruesome grin. Troy swallowed the lump of fear in his throat, and took hold of the shovel. As he shuffled to his feet, two more carcasses dragged themselves out of the shallow grave.

Is this...second death?

There were few people in the reservation who hadn’t heard of CrowGhost’s claim, second death seeking out the living. But, like most, Troy hadn’t given the old man’s words much thought, until now.

The living corpse before Troy gnashed its teeth, and raised its charred arm towards him. Troy slammed his eyes shut, pulled back the shovel, and plunged it into the corpse’s skull again and again. When he opened his eyes the corpse had stopped its advance, tiny spores flew from its shattered skull like tossed flour. Troy backed away as a second corpse darted towards him, dismissing the metal plates, and pins that held its left kneecap together.

Jake?

Jake Cordero, a forty-one year old father of two, had suffered from a shattered femur after a nasty skiing accident two winters ago. Jake was always there when someone needed an extra six feet of muscle. He was up at the break of dawn, and escorted his children to the school bus, and was always there to pick them up.

As a third grade teacher, Jake never had much money to spare, but he was wealthy when it came to friendship. His wife, Rita, packed up their children, and left the reservation shortly after his death.

Troy leveled the wooden end of the shovel to Jake’s ribs. Jake, stop! It’s me,Troy! He didn’t know why those words flew from his mouth. Jake was burned beyond recognition, and before that, a virus had sucked the life from his body. To Troy’s dismay, Jake’s reanimated corpse had shunned whatever camaraderie he held for his living friends.

Jake’s corpse snarled and staggered forward, ignoring the shovel’s handle as it drove deeper, snapping his rib cage. Heart beating in his ears, breath frozen in his chest, Troy placed his boot against the corpse’s chest, and kicked the handle free. As Jake’s corpse tumbled to the ground, Troy swung the shovel around.

Forgive me, old friend, he said before fracturing Jake’s skull with the sharp end of the shovel. Troy’s gaze skipped over the half a dozen crispy corpses that had escaped the open grave, and the dozens more that were eager to join them.

If the dead returned in this condition, what was stopping the recently deceased, the bodies in the morgue, and the hospital, from awakening? What’s stopping them from attacking my son, and others?

Troy dashed in the path of the walking corpses, and, with a father’s determination, swung the shovel like a baseball bat.

*  *  *

A quarter sized rock whistled between two empty cans of beans, missing the one on the left by just an inch.

Almost, eight year old Richard Yates noted, his shoulder length black hair protruding from his