Dead State (Book 5): Evolved Read online

  BOOK 5

  BY

  Copyright

  Evolved

  Copyright © 2020 by Derek Shupert

  Cover design by Derek Shupert

  Cover art by Covers by Christian

  Cover Copyright © 2020 by Derek Shupert

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictionally and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For information contact :

  Derek Shupert

  www.derekshupert.com

  First Edition

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Author Notes

  Enjoy the book? Spread the word…

  Dead State Series

  The Huntress Bane Series

  Afflicted Series

  Ballistic Mech Series

  Also by Derek Shupert

  About the Author

  Dedication

  I wouldn’t be able to write without those who support me. I thank you for your encouragement and being there for me.

  To those that read my books, I thank you for your support.

  Evolved

  Beta Readers – My deepest gratitude for your help !

  Patti Holycross

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Nothing lasts forever. Despite how hard we fight, a gruesome end is inevitable.

  That’s all I can think as the military chopper plummets toward the ground, and I am helpless to stop it.

  The bleating of sirens hammers in my ears. The whimpers of my sister, Cindy, and our friend, Cassie, merge with the blaring sirens and strained voices of the soldiers as I brace for impact. My dog cowers in their laps. Lucas double-checks his harness, yanking at the bulky straps. He pulls them tighter as we plummet to the ground.

  That is the last thing I remember before we crash, and my world goes black.

  A sharp breath escapes my mouth as I snap out of my unconscious state. My body jolts, but my movement is restricted by something of considerable weight. My heart races. It takes me a moment to calm down, and remember what happened.

  Christ. Did we make it?

  The subtle beeping from the aircraft’s cockpit has ebbed to silence. I hear no voices or other sounds. Am I the lone survivor?

  My head swells with a pulsating headache that won’t let up. Each breath I take makes it throb more. The rich scent of fuel and smoke fills my nose. It’s hard to breathe without inhaling the toxic fumes.

  I’m flat on my back. Something heavy is pinning me to the rigid steel floor of the chopper. My eyes crack open. A thick haze coats my vision. I blink, trying to erase the film. It persists.

  “Cindy? Are you all right?” I groan. She doesn’t answer. “Sis, are you ok?”

  I’m met with more silence.

  I lift my head off the floor of the chopper. It feels like it’s weighed down with cinder blocks. Something wet trickles down the side my face. My temple hurts.

  The haze clears from my vision. I skim over the empty cabin of the aircraft for Cindy and the others. There’s no one here but me. I look down to my waist, and find one of the soldiers draped across me. He’s looking right at me, his face is slathered in blood. It sends a shiver of panic down my spine.

  A large gash runs from the top of his brow down across his face. His eyes are wide open, but he doesn’t appear to be alive. He offers no movements or hints that he survived the crash. I check his neck for a pulse, but find none.

  I push against his shoulders, struggling to remove his dead weight from me. He doesn’t budge. I try once more with as much strength as my meager arms can muster. He moves a fraction more before falling back into place.

  “Lucas!” I call out to the man, who has been with me and Duke from near the beginning of our journey, hoping that he’s close by. I get no reply. “Cassie? Commander Reynolds? Anyone?”

  My pleas for help go unanswered.

  I hear something shuffling about outside the chopper. It’s subtle, but loud enough to grab my attention.

  I turn my head to the open door of the aircraft, and look out into the dimness of the building we crashed into. All I can see is the reddish-brown brick wall on the far side of the structure. The ramshackle ceiling has large cracks and is littered with gaping holes that allow light in.

  “Hello?” I call out. “I’m stuck in the cabin up here, and can’t free myself! Can you help me?”

  The noise stops.

  Did I get their attention or scare them off?

  I wiggle my body from side to side and lean toward the opening. My arm stretches out to the edge of the chopper as I try to see who might be down there.

  Busted brick and wooden beams rest at the base of the aircraft. I crane my neck, and strain to see who is there when I hear rubble being shifted about. It sounds as though whoever it is, is heading this way.

  “Yes, I’m in-”

  Panted breathing tickles my ears, sealing my lips. Grunts taint the air. It doesn’t sound like Duke, but more like... the chasers.

  Oh no.

  My mouth slags open, and I hold my breath. I’m flush with panic, and I don’t know what to do. I’m trapped under this soldier with a ghoulish fiend scaling a mountain of rubble to investigate a potential meal.

  Christ!

  I push harder at the dead soldier’s bulk as I keep watch on the opening. Muscles flood with adrenaline. The thought of being eaten alive by the creature makes me dig deeper, and lift with all of my might.

  The soldier flips over onto his stomach and rests on my knees. I’m winded, but I can’t stop. The chaser’s grunts won’t allow it. They become clearer with every passing second.

  Move faster, James!

  I pull my legs toward me and fight to wiggle them free of the corpse. One leg slips out, but the other remains trapped. The chaser is almost here. I’m out of time.

  The soldier’s rifle is draped across his body. I tug at the strap, but the rif
le is wedged under the soldier. I can’t get it freed in time. Across the cabin, a M4 carbine is secured to the wall. I reach for the rifle with my fingers wiggling for the strap that dangles in the air.

  The creature’s scarred, bald head emerges from the base of the chopper. Bloody hands reach for the aircraft. They land on the steel plate floor. The dark fluid is smeared over the rigid surface.

  It pauses.

  A flutter of panic escapes my trembling lips.

  The chaser skims over the cabin. Strands of moist flesh cling to its chin. Teeth grind, and chew on the meaty mess that’s crammed into its mouth. It slurps up the morsels that hang from its lips. It spots me and growls.

  I pat the soldier down, hoping to score a knife or something else that I can defend myself with.

  The chaser crouches low and slinks into the cabin. Blood drips from the fiend’s chin and splatters the floor of the aircraft.

  It crawls closer to me. Controlled breaths leave its mouth. The chaser moves cautiously—almost like a predator investigating an odd noise.

  What is it doing? The creatures don’t normally act like this.

  I continue searching the soldier, checking around his waist for any weapons. The chaser inches closer. Sweat bubbles from my brow, and races down my face. Whimpers of panic and impending doom slip from my lips.

  Come on!

  The chaser’s chest pulsates in and out at a rapid pace. Hollow sockets loom at me. Sallow cheeks are painted with the blood of a recent victim.

  Bark!

  Duke?

  The chaser stops. He turns to the side, tilts his head back, and tests the air with his deformed nose.

  Bark!

  The gaunt creature trains his attention back to me and snarls. His mouth opens wide, and he lunges at me.

  I throw my hands up in front of me, ready to fight the undead fiend until the bitter end.

  The creature manages to get but a scant inch away from my person before a single report crackles within the building.

  A bullet bursts from the center of the chaser’s skull. A fine-red mist trails close behind. The round zips past me and out of the cabin of the chopper.

  The chaser’s body collapses to the floor of the aircraft. Blood and brain matter ooze from the gaping hole in its skull and pools under the creature’s body.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Once more, I’ve escaped the boney fingers of death.

  The barking grows louder. I push the dead soldier off my other leg. I lean forward, and retrieve the M4 carbine from the wall.

  “Duke, I’m in here, boy!”

  I shoulder the rifle, and crawl over the dispatched chaser. On hands and knees, I emerge from the chopper. At the base of the rubble, I spot Duke. He spins about in circles while barking and wagging his tail.

  A smile cracks across my face. I slide down the mountain of busted brick, and spot a man heading toward me. He’s wearing a camo jacket with the hood draped over his head, and a rifle slung over his shoulder.

  The loose chunks of brick shift under my feet. I stumble, and ride the tidal wave down to my eager dog.

  I hit the base of the pile, and drop to my knees before my excited pup. I’m greeted with a tongue bath that licks me from ear to ear. I hug Duke’s neck, and rub his side as the mysterious man looms over us.

  My gaze flits to the ominous man as my body grows tense. I stare at his rifle, and watch his movements, making sure he doesn’t try anything.

  Duke groans and refuses to let up.

  “Ok, boy. I’m glad to see you’re okay as well.”

  He stops and steps back, giving me a reprieve from his loving gesture.

  The cloaked man looks away as I get to my feet. I extend my hand out to him.

  “Thanks for-”

  His hand springs up and silences me. “We need to find cover. More dead are coming.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Great. The dead are here.

  The cloaked man shoulders his sniper rifle. He peers through the scope and turns about in a circle. Duke barks and growls.

  “You need to shut him up.” Our new friend’s voice is deep, and coarse. It reminds me of those people who have smoked cigarettes for most of their lives, and their throats are trashed.

  I present my palm to Duke and say, “Heel!”

  Duke groans and licks around his snout. He obeys without fault.

  “Who are you and have you-”

  “Later,” he snaps. “Did you not hear me when I said we have more dead inbound.”

  A snappy response to his more than curt reply reaches my lips before I hear footsteps. Lots of footsteps. The carbine springs up and presses to my shoulder. The side of my face rests against the rifle as I peer through the scope.

  We stay close to each other as we move from sound to sound. I skim over the mounds of rubble in search of a gaunt body racing toward us, but don’t find any. I catch brief flashes of something darting from the busted timbers and other piles of rubble and debris. Why are they not just charging us?

  “I’ve got movement all over, but they don’t seem to want to charge us,” I say. “Maybe they don’t see us.”

  “They see us all right,” the man responds. “They’re just hunting us. Sneaky bastards.”

  Hunting us? The chasers have never done that before.

  He looks across the building to the far wall and points to a doorway with busted brick. “Come on. We need to move before they cut us off.”

  The defunct space is littered with numerous places for the chasers to emerge from. He keeps his sniper rifle trained, and back peddles toward the opening.

  As soon as he reaches it, he takes off in a mad dash.

  Duke and I chase after him. He moves at a good clip, his boots hammering the ground. The chasers’ yowls increase in volume, growing louder with each step we take. I glance to either side of us, and spot their bony, pale bodies materializing from every nook and hidden spot within the building.

  Each step sends a jolt of pain up my leg that punishes my body. My side hurts, and my head thumps. The will to survive pushes my legs on. I can’t afford to fall behind this guy. He could leave me behind.

  The chasers race out into the opening, and funnel in behind us. The man before me keeps his steady, brisk pace. Duke is hot on his heels with me being the anchor. Just listening to the grunts and growls of the undead creatures makes me panic.

  He darts inside the doorway. Duke follows suit. I slip through the opening behind them.

  “Down here!” he calls out from my right. He waves his arm from down the hall.

  I hustle down the drab passageway as the chasers cram their bodies through the doorway.

  Their squalls combine into one terrifying trumpet of rage. The multitude of dead charging the halls shakes the ground beneath my feet.

  More chasers appear in the direction we’re heading. The man comes to a screeching halt and opens fire. The sharp report of the rifle is boisterous in the close quarters. He chambers off three shots.

  The heads of the three chasers in front snap back, and they stumble to the unkempt floor. The dead behind them trip over the fallen, and block off the other dead.

  He spins around and trains the rifle in my direction. He doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. The white flash from the muzzle fills my gaze as the incoming round zips past my head. I duck and hear the thud of a body crashing to the floor behind me.

  He stands up and darts up the stairs to his left. Duke stays on his tail and races after him. The chasers behind me bulldoze their way over the dead bodies and charge on. I reach out, and grab the edge of the wall. I keep my feverish pace up the staircase.

  Situated on the landing, the man stands with a four-drawer, black filing cabinet in front of him. He waves me on as the tidal wave of dead collide into one another at the base of the steps.

  “Get the lead out, young blood! I don’t want you to be in this thing’s way!” he calls to me.

  I pant, struggling to catch my breath. My legs are being bi
tten by the soreness gnawing at the muscles. Duke barks from the top of the stairs.

  The chasers charge up after us. The combined bulk tests the steps’ resilience. The planks creak and pop, acting as though they could snap at any moment.

  I slip past the man, and take cover behind him. I double over, and place the heel of my palms on the top part of each knee. A knot forms in my chest and the stabbing pain in my side will not let up. It hurts to breathe, but I fight through the discomfort.

  “I knew this damn thing would come in handy at some point. It was just a bitch to move over here without creating too much noise!”

  He grabs the bulky filing cabinet and tilts it forward. He grunts and strains to tip it, but manages to do so. It crashes on the stairs and races toward the wave of chasers.

  I watch with delight, reveling in the fact that the creatures will be plowed over by the dense metal object.

  The man turns and slaps the side of my arm. “Come on. We need to keep moving. That’s only going to slow them down a short bit.” He maneuvers around the banister and runs down the long stretch of walkway.

  I stand up straight, and crane my neck to see the dead get plowed by the cabinet.

  A handful of the chasers dart out of the way. Their rail-thin frames suck against the wall and railing as it flies past them. The chasers behind them collide with the filing cabinet. Howls belch from their mouths as they’re thrown down the stairs.

  The chasers who dodged the filing cabinet train their gaze down to the crushed and battered bodies at the base of the stairs. I’ve never seen the creatures do that before.

  Duke barks, snapping me out of my entranced state.

  I slip around the banister as the chasers shrill, and sprint up the remaining flight of stairs.

  I don’t spot the man or Duke for that matter on the next flight of stairs. His barks are growing faint from the floor above me.

  Heavy footsteps tromp the wooden floor, and send me dashing up the steps. I take two at a time. My hand glides along the railing, then takes hold to pull me forward.