Dead America - New York Tales - Collection 1 (Dead America Box Sets Book 22) by Derek Slaton

Author:Derek Slaton [Slaton, Derek]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-27T00:00:00+00:00

4. The Maniacs

Chapter One

Day Zero +4

As the sun crested the horizon, casting a faint glow over the post-apocalyptic world, Mason and Hudson, brothers bound by blood and survival, toiled away within the confines of their mechanic's haven nestled deep in the heart of Brooklyn.

Their figures towered, each standing over six feet tall, their frames chiseled and hardened like ancient statues hewn from granite. The rhythm of their labor was matched only by the beat of their hearts, as they forged the tools necessary for their continued existence in a world overrun by the undead.

With their own business as their sanctuary, they had honed not only their skills but also their bodies, dedicating countless hours to sculpting the physical fortitude required to endure the trials of their new reality. Beyond mere strength, they understood the importance of agility and combat prowess, a knowledge gleaned from nights spent training at a renowned mixed martial arts academy.

Though the allure of the ring beckoned, their commitments to their garage outweighed the desire for glory, relegating their skills to the realm of necessity rather than spectacle.

The garage boasted a modest expanse, offering shelter for up to three vehicles under its roof, secured by the descent of heavy doors. However, on this fateful day, the aftermath of sluggish business prior to the arrival of the undead left only a solitary vehicle within its confines, its front axle fractured, a casualty of neglect.

In one bay, Mason meticulously wielded a hand welder, fusing a filed-down bolt to a length of chain, fashioning a makeshift weapon. Across the empty space, Hudson's silhouette danced amidst cardboard adversaries, his grip firm on a crimson fire axe as he methodically cleaved through imaginary foes adorned with crudely drawn undead features.

Amidst the cacophony of metal on metal, a relentless pounding echoed from beyond the confines of their sanctuary, a grim reminder of the horrors lurking just beyond their reach.

With each swing, Hudson's battle cries pierced the air, his blows landing with satisfying thuds against the illustrated heads of his make-believe adversaries. Closing the distance to his brother, his inquiry cut through the din of their work.

"How's your project coming along, bro?" Hudson asked.

With precision, Mason's torch met the metal, a burst of light and heat melding the components together before he extinguished the flame, setting the tool aside. Raising the finished product for inspection, he presented the chain, its form compact yet deadly, with an eight-inch bolt at its core, honed to a lethal point.

"I call it the aerator," Mason declared, his voice carrying a note of grim satisfaction. "One punch, and the air's going straight to the brain."

Hudson's nod of approval mirrored the gleam in his brother's eyes. "I like it. Did you make one for me?"

A grin spread across Mason's features as he gestured towards a nearby cardboard box, its contents revealed to hold several replicas of the makeshift weapon.

"I figured we might have to let one go if it gets stuck. So, I made us a few spares." Mason explained.

Hudson's

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