The Decay of Humanity Series (Book 3): Demise of Humanity

by Dawn, M. K.

  Axel chuckled. “You’re over-thinking this. Bad things happen and we learn to move on, to be happy after the pain. When my daughter died, I never thought I would ever love another child the way I loved her. But then, I met Molly, Blake, and Chase and grew to love them like they are my own. Doesn’t mean I loved her any less.”

  Britney’s heart melted at his confession. She never doubted his love for her children but hearing him compare his love for them to that of Sabrina meant the world to her. “Some days, I wake up thinking, he’s too good to be true.”

  The corner of Axel’s mouth twitched. “And then, I open my mouth, and it all fades away.”

  “Pretty much.” Britney poked him in the ribs.

  Axel flinched. “Ouch.”

  “Please, I know that didn’t hurt.”

  “Only my pride.” Axel took her hand. “Ready to get something to eat?”

  Britney made a show of turning over her empty glass. “And some more wine.”

  The hours passed quickly. With the dancing and music, the wine, food and cake, people were loosening up, enjoying themselves more than they had in months. The kids ran around playing, like kids are supposed to do. People grouped together, laughing and telling stories about the good old days.

  Even Britney, with all her anxiety, relaxed and stayed in the moment. “I love this. Once we get everything back in order, we need to do this more often.”

  “Get married?” Axel teased.

  “No.” Britney threw back her head and stared up at the stars as they danced. “Have a party. Everyone is havin’ such a good time. People who haven’t spoken in weeks are gettin’ along with each other. It’s perfect, just perfect.”

  “Maybe once every few months?”

  Britney spun around, shaking her hips to an old pop song. “Once a month! That’s my final offer.”

  Axel pulled her in his arms as the music slowed. “I think someone is enjoying the wine tonight.”

  “I feel good. Not drunk, but not sober either. Relaxed. More like myself than I’ve felt in a very, very, very long time.”

  “Good.” Axel froze. “Do you smell smoke?”

  Britney took a big whiff of the cold air then busted out laughing. “Of course you smell smoke, silly. There are bonfires all around us.”

  Axel frowned and sniffed the air again. “This is something different.”

  “Ugh.” Britney forced him to start dancing again. “I think the whiskey’s messing with your head.”

  “I’m not drinking.” Axel kept his focus on the horizon, and his eyes squinted as he scanned the area.

  “What about the bottle Archer said he saved for you?” She tugged on his shirt when he didn’t respond. “Axel? Axel?”

  He pointed past the barns. “There’s smoke over there.”

  Britney whirled around, not to look at the smoke but for her kids. She had just seen them, but now, there were too many people, too many glasses of wine affecting her senses.

  Just as she was about to call out for them, an explosion went off. Britney covered her ears as Axel forced her to the ground.

  Chaos erupted. People ran in every direction. Screams of terror, of fear, filled the night sky.

  Britney scrambled to her feet, desperate to find her children. “Molly! Blake! Carson!”

  Axel grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Are you okay?”

  “What was th—” Britney whirled around. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear wh...holy shit” Axel shoved Britney toward the house. “Run! Everyone take cover! Infested!”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sloan pushed through the crowd, desperately trying to get to Britney. She had spotted her sister just after Axel had told everyone to run and knew she was on the verge of a panic attack.

  “Britney, you have to go to the house!” Sloan heard Axel scream as she ran up on them.

  Sloan lay a hand on Axel’s arm. “I’ve got her. Go!”

  “The kids.” Britney’s voice quivered as she gasped for air. “The infested. They’re everywhere. The kids.”

  “Look at me.” Sloan grasped Britney’s shoulders and shook her, not hard but enough to get her attention. “The kids are heading to the house, just like you taught them, just like they’ve practiced a hundred times over.”

  “Are you sure?” Britney sobbed. “Did you see them?”

  “I haven’t seen them.” Sloan had thought about lying but in the off chance the kids weren’t there, she didn’t want to cause more panic. “But I trust that they did what they were supposed to do. The only way to know for sure is if we go to the house ourselves.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  Sloan grabbed her sister’s arm. “I don’t know, but we can’t stay here. We have to run. You have to run, Britney. Come on. Let’s go.”

  They took off for the house, Sloan keeping an eye on their backs. She tried not to focus on the bodies that already lay dead on the ground. Instead, she focused on the infested, who moved slower than normal due to the cold, but still rivaled that of any human.

  “Watch the stairs.” They didn’t need for Britney to trip and draw blood. The infested hadn’t made it this far, but the smell of blood would draw them in.

  “The door’s locked.” Britney jiggled the handle, still sobbing. “Hello! It’s Mommy. Kids!”

  The lock clicked, and Carson threw open the door. “Mom! Aunt Sloan.”

  Sloan pushed them inside and threw the lock.

  Britney fell to the ground as three sets of arms wrapped around her neck. “Thank God. Thank God. Are you okay? Is everyone okay?”

  Sloan went to check on the other kids, who huddled together around Juliet and Diego.

  “I did just like you taught us, Mom,” Carson explained. “All the kids did. We all ran for the house after the explosion. Juliet and Diego made sure we were all here, and we locked the door.”

  Sloan smiled to the teenagers. “Good job. Now you all need to head for the basement and stay there until it’s safe.”

  Britney rose to her feet. “I’m going to change and get my gun and some extra bullets.”

  “Juliet, Diego, go ahead and start heading down with the kids. Britney will be right behind you.”

  “You’re coming with us, Mommy?” Blake asked.

  Sloan patted his head. “She is. Now, hurry.”

  Britney turned to Sloan. “No. I’m not goin’ to hide while everyone else is out there riskin’ their lives.”

  “You’ve had too much to drink, Brit.”

  “Everybody was drinkin’!” she snapped.

  Sloan guided Britney toward the basement. “Not everyone.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears welled in Britney’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have been either. It was stupid and irresponsible.”

  “It’s your wedding day.” Sloan paused at the top of the stairs. “Be with your kids. We have this under control.”

  Britney lowered her eyes. “Be careful.”

  “Lock the door. Don’t let anyone else in.”

  “I won’t.”

  Sloan rushed out the front door, gun in hand. The sound of gunfire and screaming assaulted her ears, making it nearly impossible to distinguish a safe path to run.

  She raced off the porch, determined not to let fear get the best of her. They had to stop the infested before more people were killed. Before the dead turned into more infested.

  Sloan skidded to a stop as she rounded the house, frozen by the sight before her. At least twenty people lay dead on the ground. She didn’t have time to count the number of dead infested. But that wasn’t what scared her; it was the sight of so many more infested still running around.

  How many had gotten in? And how? She knew the answers wouldn’t do them any good now, but she couldn’t help but think of them in the moment.

  Trying to keep her panic at bay, she focused on what she could do. She’d faced a worse hoard of infested before, in The Bunker, and she could do it now. With a shaky hand, she raised her gun and ai
med at the nearest infested, but it moved out of her line of sight quicker than she expected.

  “Slash!” Archer ran toward her. “Come on! We need to take cover.”

  Sloan followed him between two barns, where they lay in wait. “They can’t see us. Why are we hiding?”

  “They can smell us. The scent of the manure will help keep us hidden.” Archer fired a shot, hitting a nearby infested in the chest.

  “Do you know how many people are down? I saw twenty, at least.”

  Archer kept his eyes on area, firing at will. “A lot.”

  Sloan’s heartbeat thrashed in ears. “How many infested?”

  “Too many.”

  She leaned against the side of the barn, listening to countless rounds of ammunition being fired. Ammunition that they were in short supply of already. “There’s a lot of gunfire.”

  “We have to stop them, or they’ll overrun us.”

  “Help.” A weak voice broke through the chaos. “Please, help.”

  Sloan peeked around the corner and spotted Jesus struggling to walk, his hand grasping his chest. “He’s injured!”

  “Slash, wait!” Archer tried to stop her as she rushed to Jesus’ aid.

  “I got you.” Sloan threw Jesus’ arm over her shoulder and helped him between the two barns. “What happened? Were you bitten?”

  Jesus slumped to the ground. “Shot.”

  “What?” Sloan glanced up at Archer. “Who shot you?”

  “I don’t know.” Blood coated Jesus’ teeth and tongue. “Came out of nowhere.”

  He struggled to speak, which probably meant the bullet hit his lungs.

  “Lay down and I’m going to roll you over to your side to see if the bullet went out the back.”

  Jesus did as she asked, groaning at even the slightest of movements.

  “How bad is it?” Archer asked from over his shoulder.

  Sloan helped Jesus lay back. “There’s no exit wound. The bullet’s still in there.”

  Jesus gasped for a breath as more blood pooled around the hand still clutched against his chest wound. “How bad is it, Doc?”

  She made it a point never to lie to patients. Didn’t think it was fair to give them false hope when there wasn’t any. It pained her to say the words, but he needed to know. “There’s nothing I can do. I’m so sorry, Jesus.”

  Tears streamed from the corner of his eyes. “It’s cool, Doc. Least I wasn’t bitten.”

  Sloan bobbed her head, too choked up to speak.

  Jesus’ breathing slowed, and Sloan took his free hand in hers. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He lasted only a few minutes longer. Sloan closed his eyes and fell to her bottom, still shocked over his death.

  “Slash,” Archer called out to her, “I know this is hard, but I could really use your help.”

  She wiped her nose and cheeks on the sleeve of her shirt, her bloody hands on her jeans, and scooted next to Archer, sitting on her knees. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Take the left and I’ll take the right. Try not to miss.”

  Sloan finished off the rounds in her semi-automatic pistol, taking out a least four infested. “I’m out.”

  Archer tossed her a magazine. “That’s all we got. Make each shot count.”

  She removed the empty mag and tossed it to the ground. A pain radiated up her legs.

  Sloan screamed, dropping the gun as she spun around. Sharp claws of an infested dug deep into her skin, and the monster snapped its jaws in her direction, crawling closer. “Archer!”

  “Fuck!” He jumped over her and kicked the infested, firing two bullets in its chest, killing it. Dropping beside Sloan, he examined her leg. “Were you bitten?”

  She shook her head, unable to take her eyes off the infested. “That’s Jesus.”

  “You’re losing a lot of blood, Slash.” Archer removed his flannel shirt and wrapped it around her leg.

  “How did he turn?” Sloan ignored him, her mind still comprehending what happened to Jesus. “He wasn’t bitten.”

  “Must have been and didn’t say anything.”

  “No.” Sloan shoved Archer away and proceeded to examine the body. “He wasn’t. Those were his last words.”

  “Slash, we don’t have time for this.” Archer moved back to his spot and fired his weapon a couple more times.

  “He wasn’t bitten. There are no bite marks on his body. How the hell did this happen? And so quickly.”

  “Maybe he healed already,” Archer snapped.

  Sloan checked Jesus’ chest wound. Blood mixed with the infested’s black substance seeped from the wound. “He hasn’t healed.”

  Archer glanced back at her. “What are you saying, that he turned without being bitten?”

  Sloan stared up at Archer, more confused than ever. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  ***

  Archer helped Sloan to the clinic after Jesus’ attack. The puncture wound on her leg had clotted, but the smell of blood made it impossible for them to hide from the infested. She also needed to clean and cover the wound to prevent infection.

  Before heading back out, Archer promised to bring her Jesus’ body as soon as he could. A few hours after daybreak, Archer made good on that promise. And even though Archer tried to talk her into waiting to do the autopsy, Sloan had started on it almost immediately. She needed to know how Jesus turned without being bitten.

  It took the town well into morning to eliminate all the infested. About a hundred had found their way inside. How? They still didn’t know.

  Archer and Axel had left with a small group a few hours ago to inspect the fence line. Sloan expected them to return any minute with an update. Plus, she had news of her own the Council needed to hear. News that would change everything they knew about the world.

  The clinic door swung open, and Britney hurried inside. “We have a problem.”

  Sloan flipped off her microscope and swiveled around in the chair. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everyone’s gone fuckin’ crazy! They’re packin’ up their campers, tryin’ to break into the house and the barns to get food and supplies. We had to post armed guards at the house and each of the barns. Not that I’m sure we can trust the people standing guard. Oh, God, what if they’re just pretendin’ to be on our side and then let people in? I need to go.”

  “Slow down and tell me exactly how this started.”

  “They’re sayin’ this place isn’t safe anymore. That they’re leavin’. And because they’ve worked this farm for so long, the supplies we’ve collected are theirs to take.”

  Sloan snapped off her gloves and threw them in the waste basket next to her desk. “They’re scared.”

  “We’re all scared! The damn gas tank blew up and the infested attacked! Thirty people died.” Britney threw her hands in the air. “But where do they think the infested came from? Beyond the gate! It’s not like they were livin’ on the farm, waitin’ for the perfect time to strike.”

  Sloan slipped on her jacket. “I’m sure we can talk some sense into them.” The truth about Jesus might be enough to change all their minds.

  “Where are you goin’?” Britney followed her outside.

  “To try and reason with them. Leaving is not the answer. They need time to grieve, to think things through. We need to find a way for them to see that.”

  Britney huffed. “Good luck with that. They’re beyond reason.”

  “Have you tried to reason with them?” Based on Britney’s initial reaction, Sloan figured she didn’t approach them with the calmest demeanor.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Britney breathed through her nose, proving Sloan’s point.

  “You’re upset and not hiding it well.”

  Britney stuck her hands on her hips. “Well, you’d be upset too if someone came knockin’ at your door first thing in the mornin’ demandin’ food.”

  Sloan slowed her pace as they approached the house, counting in her head the number
of people gathered on the porch. “Ten people isn’t too bad.”

  “The rest are at the supply barn, tryin’ to pull the same shit.”

  They’d never resolve the situation in a civilized manner if Britney didn’t calm down. “Let me do the talking. Please. We’ve lost enough people already.”

  “Fine, fine.” Britney waved her off. “I’ll hang off to the side and let you handle things.”

  “Let us in, Angie!” Sam shouted as Sloan approached the house. “We have as much right to the food as you do!”

  Angie pointed a shotgun at Sam. “Ain’t nobody getting in here, sugar. You best get your happy ass off the porch. Don’t make me have to tell you again.”

  “That’s enough.” Sloan squeezed between Sam and Angie. Standing so close to the barrel of the gun made her stomach queasy. “Put the gun down. We’re on the same side, remember?”

  Angie lowered her weapon. “They’re the ones that came up here looking for a fight. Banging on the door, scaring the children. Poor things started bawling all over again.”

  Sloan kept her back to Angie and addressed the packed porch. “Why are you all here?”

  “We came to collect supplies,” Sam said. He tended to speak on behalf of the group.

  “Supplies for what?” Sloan knew the answer but wanted to make Sam feel as if he were in charge of the situation.

  “We’re leaving the farm.” Heads nodded behind Sam.

  Sloan’s eyes wandered as if contemplating their decision. “You have every right to leave, but I’m curious why you would all of a sudden want to do so.”

  Sam’s brow furrowed. “Are you kidding me? After what happened last night? After all that’s happened for weeks? This place isn’t the safe haven it once was.”

  His logic seemed a bit skewed, and Sloan was determined to call him on it. “Compared to the outside world? Where the infested came from? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Upwards of thirty people were killed last night.” Sam dropped his head. “Eighteen of them were ours. We never had that kind of death toll when we were out there.”

  Sloan mustered up all the empathy she could manage. “I understand. The rest of the casualties came from The Bunker. But Sam, it’s been less than twelve hours since the attacks. This isn’t the time to make a rash decision. We haven’t even said a proper goodbye.”