“There’s not much here,” Bree said, her eyes on the buildings on the far side of the snow covered road. “Maybe we should start back.”
Rowan considered it. Bree was cautious but by no means a coward. He found himself in a constant struggle between a need to protect the young group and a desire to stay away from Canaan. He looked to the others for confirmation.
“We still have time,” Jonah said. “Let’s at least have a look around before we head back.”
Rowan took another look at the sky. He guessed they had the time for a quick search of the area but not much more. He started to give directions when something caught his eye.
“What is that?” He pulled at Jonah’s coat to get a better look at the hand drawn symbol on his shoulder. The centerpiece was an open mouth skull, backed by two crossing arrows.
Jonah smiled sheepishly. “It’s our symbol,” he said.
“Our, who?” Rowan asked.
He found the symbol on Bree’s long coat and again on Gabriel’s before Jonah had a chance to respond. The other boys revealed theirs.
“We’re the Knights of Rowan,” Bale said matter-a-factly.
The sound of it made Rowan laugh. He swallowed his snicker once he realized none of the kids were smiling.
“What do you have to do with my nights?” he asked.
“Not that kind of night. They were protectors,” Tate said, “A long time ago, in the old world.”
“Mia used to read me books about them,” Jonah said. “When we still had books.”
Rowan could read, barely, but Mia had taken to it. They were given access to a wide assortment of books from the old world in the home of their former tribe before the infected took it all away. He wasn’t sure what to make of the group naming themselves, so he decided to let it be.
“We’ll head for the buildings across the street,” he said and then nodded to Bree. “But if we don’t find anything promising, we’ll head back.”
He let Jonah lead them. Bale was next, moving with an arrow notched and his bowstring up close to his face, ready to fire. The other three went as a group, and Rowan followed them across the street. He was halfway to their destination when a series of murmurs brought him to a sliding stop.
Jonah and Bale were already leaning against the building, Jonah peeking around the corner. The others stopped before they reached the destination. Rowan broke off his straight line and headed for Jonah, waving Bree forward as he did. He took Jonah’s place, and the moment he slid his eyes around the corner, the sound of crunching steps in the snow echoed clearly between the two buildings.
Rowan stepped forward, motioning for the others to stay where they were. He was near the front of the building when the sounds behind him said neither Jonah nor the rest of the newly christened Knights of Rowan followed his directions. His first glimpse of the open area beyond the buildings was a confusing picture. The row of structures he expected to see was replaced by a series of wide circular cuts in the ground surrounded by a tall fence. The odd scene kept him still, and it wasn’t until Jonah shoved him from behind that he realized the footsteps were closing in on them from the opposite side of the building.
“Spread out,” Rowan said. “Bree, take Gabriel and Tate and slide along the face of this building.” He tapped the exterior of the wall behind him. “We’ll go out wide in case they rush us.”
The use of the word they heightened the tension of the situation. The moment they stepped out from their position, the footsteps slowed and then stopped. Rowan’s eyes were on the corner of the far end of the building. He tried to work through his options if a pack of the dead or worse a group of infected rushed out toward them. Silence covered the area and the stillness heightened the fear.
Rowan drew his bowstring back until his hand touched his cheek. Bree was midway across the face of the building when the footsteps started forward again. Rowan nearly released his arrow when a fuzzy bunny leapt out into the open. It took him a moment to process what he was looking at. The sudden release of tension came out in a snort he couldn’t control. The kids broke into laughter and the burst of sound caused the rabbit to jump off in the direction it came.
“I think we’ve reached our limit,” Rowan said between laughs. “There’s not much out here.”
Bale chimed in with an astute inspiration. “We should’ve shot the rabbit.”
He was right, but the effort wasn’t worth the time it would take to clean it. Rowan was content to end the hunt for the day. Chances were he’d need to get out of Canaan soon in order to avoid another one of the council’s meetings. There was also a good chance Jonah and the others would be itching to go with him.
“All right, let’s head back.”
He took one step before a new sound reached the opening between the buildings and the fence. The thud of footsteps was lost under a rising growl. Rowan took one more step before he spotted the crimson splotches of blood on the otherwise unblemished snow. The bloodstains were lost under the first step of a decomposing foot as the dead pushed out into the open.
“Get back.”
Rowan was moving backwards, keeping his eyes and his bow trained on the growing crowd. The mob swelled until there were more zombies than anyone cared to count. Bree led Gabriel and Tate away from the front of the building, catching up with the others in the center of the street. Rowan stole a glance at his compatriots and found the faces of the Knights of Rowan full of panic.
“Move around the far side of the next building and try and lead us out the way we came.”
Nobody moved and he was forced to take his eyes off the advancing dead. He grabbed Jonah’s jacket and made the boy look at him.
“I need you to lead the way.”
It took a moment for Jonah to blink out of his rattled haze. Rowan waited until he got a reassuring nod and then pushed him off in the direction he wanted them to go. He was calling out orders when he reengaged with the advancing mob.
“Bree and Bale stay close to me,” he shouted. “Gabriel and Tate keep up with Jonah.” He pulled his bowstring back as he took aim. “Make sure you can see one another at all times.”
Bree fired first and Bale was right behind her. Both hit their mark, but neither took one of the walking dead down. The mob moved at a slow pace, most of them barely audible beyond a few feet. Their decomposing husks were in a terrible state of rot. Most of them were picked clean of the clothes from their former lives, exposing their skin to the elements. Purple and blue decorated most of their limbs, the bare tissue a withering black.
“Save your arrows,” he ordered.
He urged the others to turn and run, figuring they could easily outpace the dead once they got into the open. His calculation was interrupted the moment he spun around.
“Rowan!”
He heard Jonah’s cry but couldn’t see him. Gabriel and Tate stopped at the edge of a building, but Jonah had already rounded the corner. The two boys were backing away, and the open air was met with a clear call of dead-speak carrying on the wind. Tate tried to fire an arrow at something between the buildings, but Gabriel staggered into him and the shot went straight up in the air. Rowan didn’t need to see what was coming.
“Run. Run now,” he yelled. “Straight ahead.”
Bree and Bale sprinted off ahead of him. They slowed down long enough to grab Gabriel and get him moving. Rowan forced Tate to go and then took in the full view of what was pushing through the alley between the buildings. Jonah stood a few feet ahead of him firing the last of his arrows.
The full sight of a pack of infected was enough to freeze a man’s heart. Jonah had seen more horrors in his young life than most, but even he had his limits. They were not truly dead, each with a heart still beating in their chest. It was the blood they craved over the flesh and the dark traversing veins beneath their graying skin showed the infection rushing through their bodies. Rowan counted five of them running toward him, each of them screaming, blaring out in their perverse tongue.
He g
rabbed Jonah by the collar, and the boy spun around ready to strike. Jonah’s mind made a recognition a split second before he slammed his fist into Rowan’s jaw. There was no time to speak; Rowan flung the boy into motion and turned himself as he did. They were running a moment later down the center of the snow-covered street, the pack of infected close behind and the mass of dead beyond them.
“Stay out in front of me.”
The order was unnecessary. Rowan took a few steps and realized Jonah was as fast as him. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what they were going to do. They could outrun the dead, he was sure, but they would never outlast the infected. It didn’t take him long to realize they were going to have to make a stand.
The surrounding buildings came and went at a blur and before they knew it, they were out in the open. Rowan’s mind was swirling too fast to figure if they were running in the right direction. Panic rose up into his chest as he fought to remain in control. His heart thundered in his ears. Bale was yelling something, but he couldn’t make it out; instead, he locked onto Bree motioning toward a large outcropping of trees. She veered off toward them and Rowan knew in an instant what she meant to do.
The infected did not move well in close quarters. Their infection caused their limbs to twitch and spasm erratically. The crammed space among the dense woods would slow them down. It wasn’t much, but Rowan figured it might be enough to keep them alive. He shouted out his final order as the shadow of the trees swept over them.
“Fire your bows, then go.”
They followed the instructions to the letter, each of them spinning around at the wood line and releasing several shots at the advancing infected before plunging into the underbrush. Rowan was the last to fire. His eyes widened when he realized the pack were within arm’s reach. He got one shot off before he was forced to drop his bow and pull the long knife from his belt.
He backed into the woods as the infected rushed in after him. Only three remained, the others lying dead out in the snow. The mob of undead were still making their way out beyond the buildings. Rowan prepared himself and brought his knife up ready to strike.
The infected burst into the woods shrieking out in their foul dead-speak. One of them locked onto Rowan and charged directly toward him. There was no time to strike without absorbing the impact, so Rowan did the next best thing. He waited until he could feel the breath of the infected man and then dropped down, bending at the waist. The man’s momentum kept him moving forward, and Rowan drove his shoulder into his gut and stood straight up. The result sent the infected man into the air, flipping once, and then slamming into the tree behind them.
Rowan spun around and dropped to his knee as the infected man tried to get up. Lines of spit gushed from his jaws as he bit at the air. Dark stains of dried blood covered his neck and the top of his frayed shirt. Rowan’s move was quick, plunging his knife into the infected man’s throat. A hard pull ripped the blade out one side, almost slicing the head clean off in the process.
Rowan was up, but before he could gather his senses, he was knocked back to the ground as something bowled into him from behind. He heard the nefarious growl as his face struck the frozen ground. The hit blurred his vision, but his instincts kept him moving. Rowan rolled onto his back a moment before another of the infected leapt down on top of him. The impact forced the air from his lungs and knocked the knife from his hand. Rowan lay defenseless as the vile woman wrapped both hands around his face and leaned in for the kill.
The golden hue of her eyes held Rowan in place, sheer terror shocking his senses. He felt the tug of her teeth against the side of his throat. The moment the pressure of the bite began, it stopped. The infected woman’s full weight came down on his chest, and it took him a moment to realize she’d stop moving.
The haze cleared from his eyes, and then he pushed up and rolled the woman’s lifeless body to one side. Blood spurted from a sizable wound in the side of her head. Bree leaned over the body and gave her another stab for good measure. Bale was behind her, the last of the infected at his feet.
Rowan sat up on his butt and then took Jonah’s outstretched hand. He found his knife and slid it back into his belt as Gabriel and Tate stepped out from behind the trees. They were all smiling at him, and he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of their enjoyment of the situation. Rowan took a deep gulp of air and focused on Jonah. He pulled him close and relayed a new and important instruction.
“Don’t tell your sister.”
4
The moon hung high in the sky, which signaled that Rowan was officially late. Mia took her time, escorting Sara back to the tribal council’s conference room, partly because the older woman was in no hurry, but mostly because she had a gut feeling Rowan wasn’t going to be there when she returned. Mia was standing at the edge of the wide hole in the ground that acted as the entrance to hive one, staring off in the distance. The small device hanging from a string around her neck was the only source of light.
Mia had never seen artificial light prior to reaching Canaan some four months ago, but now she couldn’t imagine living without it. She’d read about the old world and all of its wonders in the books kept by her tribe before the destruction of their home. She never once imagined she’d get to see a few of those wonders firsthand.
The personal lights were a gift from the former commission of Canaan, left behind in their haste to abandon the compound. Most of the members of the newly christened Canaan tribe had one. The problem was that the lights were slowly dying, and bit by bit, the excavated sections of the habitable hives were being consumed by darkness. Mia’s focus on the light and the other concerns brewing in her mind were merely a distraction. She was doing her best not to think about all of the reasons Rowan, her brother Jonah, and his friends had not yet returned. A familiar whistle shook her from her thoughts.
“You might have noticed the sun went down some time ago,” she said.
Mia couldn’t see him yet, but she knew he was there. A quick look around the remains of Canaan’s once proud walls focused her to the west. She couldn’t count the outlines, but there was a group of people making their way over the snow-covered ruins. Rowan’s response was a familiar yet tiring one.
“Sorry.”
Mia held her tongue and waited. She couldn’t stop herself from tapping her foot in the snow. She wrapped her arms around herself and nervously counted the personal lights as they popped on one by one. She took a long breath when she was finished, satisfied the entire troop had returned.
They were a dirty bunch from Rowan to Bree, each of them with scratches and splotches of dirt smeared on their clothes. Bale, Tate, and Gabriel smiled politely before dashing down the makeshift stairs and disappearing into the hive. Bree gave Jonah a playful shove and then ran off after the others. Jonah stood by Rowan, each looking as guilty as a thief.
“I don’t suppose you wanna tell me about your hunting trip?” she asked.
Jonah and Rowan gave one another a sideways glance.
“Not much out there today,” Rowan said.
“Yep,” Jonah added, sheepishly. “Boring as can be.”
The boy tried to get past his sister before she peppered him with any other questions. Mia gave up on him and focused her attention and renewing frustration on Rowan. Her brother gave a less than supportive parting shot.
“Good luck.”
Rowan smiled but kept his eyes on her. “Did I miss something today?”
The question set Mia’s hair on fire.
“How can you—” She stopped, recognizing she was yelling. A two count and a deep breath convinced her that she could continue without shouting. “How can you ask that? You know damn well that I needed you here today.” Rowan’s face soured. “Don’t you realize how serious this is?”
He started toward the stairs, motioning for her to follow him. “Of course I do, but that’s for the council to decide.”
“You’re a part of the council,” she reminded him.
He chuckled to himse
lf. “Only because you asked for me to be on it,” he said. “They don’t care what I think.”
“They care.” She realized the moment she said it that her words were hollow. “They do,” she added trying to convince herself.
Rowan offered her his arm, and they moved down the stairs and into the main passage. Mia wasn’t finished, but the people milling about the halls held her tongue in place. The wide array of lanterns and personal lights illuminated the lengthy space. Mia lowered her voice.
“The scouts returned.”
The update got Rowan’s attention. He stopped and turned her to look at him.
“Why didn’t you say so?” he asked. “What’s the news?”
Mia looked up and then down the hall before relaying the report. “The horde is moving directly toward us,” she whispered although the information wasn’t necessarily a secret. There was still hope the horde of the dead might go around them, but the new information told a different story. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
Rowan’s face softened. It was his turn to look up and down the hall, but then he took a few steps and moved in close to her. Mia could feel the heat of his breath. She felt compelled to grab his hands. A closer look revealed the concern in his eyes, and she was grateful to see it.
“Then let’s get out of here,” he said.
He’d been a firm supporter of leaving from the beginning. He had no interest in staying in Canaan even before the hope of getting the generators back on faded. Mia nodded. She tried to get her hands to stop shaking.
“I know,” she said, “but we have to decide as a group.”
Rowan let her hands go as his face drew up in a frustrated scowl. “Why?” he asked. “We can take care of ourselves. You, me, Jonah, hell whoever else wants to come. I don’t care.”
The Decaying World Saga Box Set [Prequel #1-#2 & Books #1-#2] Page 71