Season of the Dead

by Adams, Lucia

  The helicopter hovered a few feet above the yard, blowing a hurricane of wind and snow every which way as a squad of dark shapes jumped out one by one. The lead soldiers immediately began firing at everything. The house was riddled, glass smashed, and chunks of timber splintered in the air. The truck exploded in a hail of gunfire. Then from the far side of the yard, Gerry reappeared. It soon became evident what was in the green case he had snatched from the trailer. He dropped to one knee balancing an R.P.G. on one shoulder. Oh fuck. A rocket whistled through the air, and the helicopter turned into a ball of roaring flame. The blast sent a wave of heat in my direction, forcing me to duck and look away.

  Soldiers flew through the air, many engulfed in flame. Most of those who survived the inferno searched out the source of the rocket. Fierce gunfire was coming from the far side of the lodge now. I remembered the Glock stowed at my shoulder. I took it out, and after a moment’s hesitation, started firing.

  I’d become pretty desensitised to the sight of blood and the letting of same, but this was different. Those soldiers, although they were trying to kill me, were living, breathing people. It was one thing to hack at one of the resurrected—they were already dead. It was another thing to shoot at the living. I got over it and stepped from the trees. I shot two of the soldiers before they even realised I was there. The heat around the wreckage was colossal. Thick black smoke drifted in a dark pillar to the heavens—Gerry’s gift to the gods.

  Gerry emerged from the smoke on the other side, and we met in the middle. There were still some soldiers moving around, but the fight was gone out of most of them. Even so, we backed towards the house, firing at any that showed signs of getting up. We made it onto the porch, and I saw Lucia was inside. She looked pretty banged up; the cut on her head was bleeding, and I noticed her limping. Then I saw a dark stain on the leg of her trousers. I opened my mouth to ask her if she was okay, but she shushed me with a gesture and made for the stairs.

  Smoke from the blazing wreck was drifting over us and into the house, making it difficult to see or even breathe. Then I saw the dark shape of a soldier in the house. Bastard must have gone in the back door. I aimed the Glock and fired… Nothing. I really needed to start counting down the bullets. I ran in and intercepted him at the bottom of the stairs. A trail of blood led up the steps… Lucia’s.

  He fumbled for his sidearm when he saw me; I didn’t wait. I stepped in, ignoring the pain in my back, and smashed him in the face with my fist. He went sprawling against a desk, scattering tourist leaflets all over the floor. He came up with a wicked looking knife in his hand.

  I gulped in smoke-tainted air in ragged breaths. I never did understand what had happened to the world. Sharon had explained much of it to us, but to be honest, most of it went over my head. I still could not get my head around the idea that dead people were reanimating and trying to eat me. I did what I had to do to survive. I wasn’t proud of a lot of the shit I’d done, nor was I ashamed. That’s the way the world rolled now. The gun thing I was getting better at. I’d never even held one in my hand up until the previous couple of days. In time, I’m sure it would become the most natural thing in the world to be permanently carrying a firearm. But I grew up on the streets of Dublin, and having little shits come at me with knives was practically a hobby where I lived and did my thing.

  The young soldier slashed at me with the knife. I grabbed his wrist and stepped in, snapped my head back and then buried my forehead into his face. I felt a crunch as his nose exploded in a spray of red. I jammed my knee between his legs with all the force I could muster. He crumpled to the floor and lay quivering

  The knife dropped from his hand, and I picked it up. It was agony for me to bend down, but I did, and I rolled him onto his back. He was no longer a kid; he was not even human in my eyes. He was just a uniform with a gun. The world was fucked; the only rule now was to live. It no longer mattered how. My home was gone, overrun by flesh eating zombies. My family were either dead or walking dead. All I had were the people in this house, two American girls, a Canadian, and a couple of kids. They were my family now, and we were under attack. I knelt on the soldier’s chest and dragged the blade across his throat.

  I snatched up his gun and made for the stairs, each step shooting daggers down my back. I heard a crash that sounded suspiciously like a door being kicked in. Lucia was on the landing, she held her gun in both hands, taking aim. I could see her target, a soldier was framed by the open doorway of Sharon’s room. I realised she’d frozen, it’s no easy thing to kill a man, even one trying to kill you. I pushed past her and fired. A crimson spray painted the wall of the bedroom, and the soldier, first dropped to his knees, and then fell face forward.

  Lucia looked at me with eyes wide. I heard screaming coming from the bedroom, but the words made no sense to me. The thunderous roar of gunfire, from outside, had ceased, leaving only the sounds of sobbing washing over me. I felt dizzy, staggered back against the wall and slid down into a seated position on the floor. I had nothing left, my body would give me no more.

  CHAPTER 48

  Lucia

  The cut at my hairline was bleeding into my left eye, blurring my vision. My ears rang from the sonic boom of the rocket launcher going off. The forest roared—now on fire, and I didn't know how long it would be until it spread to the lodge. I decided that if I could get to the roof through the hatch door we'd cut, I'd have a better aim at everyone on the ground—the soldiers and the once-dead. My hand was covered in wet blood and the gun kept slipping from my grasp. I fell against the doorway, my chest heaving as the smoke choked the air out of my lungs. Gerry and Paul retreated towards me, mowing down those that threatened us as they inched backwards.

  I realized the door had been open when I got there.Kitty… Parker… Sharon… were they still inside? Had anything or one gotten inside?Snot choked in the back of my throat, and I struggled to yell for them, but nothing came. I shuffled towards the couch and grabbed a toss pillow. I wiped the blood from my eye and tried to blink the red away. I cleaned the blood from my hands and as what remained dried, my gun felt stuck to my grasp. The pillow was ruined. I dropped it on the floor.At least it’s my blood. Sharon will be mad. Maybe I can wash it before she sees.I shook the thought away. There would be no lodge left by the time the fire burned itself out.Maybe.

  Earlier, when I had fallen outside, one of the sharpened sticks we’d driven into the ground had imbedded into my thigh. Blood ran down my leg and filled my shoe. I shook my head—I knew one of us would eventually become hurt from the booby traps.I’m glad it was me.

  The house was silent. I wanted to yell out for Sharon, but I knew better. As the cut on my head began to run into my eye again, I limped into the kitchen and my foot squished my blood between my toes with every step. A dish towel sat on the counter. I picked it up and pressed it against my head. Kitty’s goth-bunny hat was on the table. I held the towel in place and pulled the hat down over it, securing it to my head.

  Through the cracks in the boarded-up window, I could see Gerry and Paul had made it onto the deck of the porch. The seconds between their shots grew as their kill shot numbers increased.

  The second step on the stairs sounded a loud, mewing creak. When I heard it, I knew someone was going upstairs. I grabbed my gun and slid alongside the wall until I could peek around the corner. A soldier was slowly climbing the stairs. I didn't have a clear shot.Sharon could make that shot. Or Gerry, or Paul. Fuck! Probably even Kitty could.

  I watched as he disappeared up the stairs and turned the corner to walk down the hall. I crouched low and crept until I was at the bottom of the stairs. I climbed them slowly, skipping the second step all together. I could hear him opening each door and checking the rooms. He had started in the back. If Sharon and the kids were in a room, it was at the closer end, and within seconds, he’d be there.

  Paul was near the door now, and he shot a glance at me. I held my finger to my lips and pointed upstairs. Panic wiped across his face. I continued
up the stairs as the soldier neared the end of his search.You have to do it.

  He tried the door to Sharon’s room. It was locked.They are in there. He stepped back to kick the door open and I bounded up the last four steps, two at a time. The lock broke and the door splintered open. I had a clear shot at his head, but I hesitated pulling the trigger. Paul pushed past me and fired. The man dropped, revealing Sharon, Kitty, and Parker in the bedroom. Sharon stood ready with a shotgun aimed at the door. Kitty was huddled in a corner, her body covering Parker’s. She moved aside and Parker jumped up.

  “Daddy!”

  CHAPTER 49

  Sharon

  When the fireball lit up the sky and the helicopter fell from the heavens, the percussion of the blast threw me backwards into the lodge. I landed hard on my elbow; pain danced up my arm, temporarily paralyzing it. My Glock skittered across the wood planks and slid under the couch.

  I blinked for a few moments as the world danced away. A cloak of blessed peace settled upon me. The temptation to take comfort in its welcome embrace was strong. It would be so much easier to just let go of it all. The pain, the grief, the guilt.

  This group of people had all shown up here just looking for a safe place. Unbeknownst to them, I had brought the war with me. The soldiers out there were here to either kill me or take me with them. And they didn’t care who they had to murder to accomplish their mission. And just like that, I was pissed. Well and truly angry.

  I fanned the heat of that flame and let it grow into an inferno that beat back the beckoning darkness. I took a deep breath and then coughed as my lungs filled with smoke. The forest was on fire. Hell had been loosed on earth.

  Mankind was now an endangered species. We should be helping each other, not adding to the body count. And that too, pissed me off. My friends were outside fighting for their lives and ours. I’d not thank them by lying down and dying.

  I stood; the room swayed as my vision swam. I reached up and touched my head; it came away sticky with blood. I’d lost a bit of skin, but the blood was not pulsing—that was a good sign. My rifle strap was tangled around me. I straightened it and went in search of my Glock. I could get another gun, but dammit, this one was mine and I wanted it.

  I shoved the sofa out of the way. The brushed steel of the barrel gleamed at me. I grabbed it and ran upstairs. What was going on outside wouldn’t swing one way or another with the addition of me.

  If I thought that walking out there would satisfy the soldiers that had come for me, and if that would ensure that they would leave my friends alive, I would have. But they had been sent to kill, not retrieve. We would just be another group of people that had died during the zombie apocalypse…added to the tally that numbered in the billions.

  I walked up the stairs towards my room and pounded on the door. “Kitty, Parker,” I called. “It’s me, Sharon. Let me in.” The door opened, revealing Kitty holding my second handgun.

  “You’re gonna want to load that,” I said, closing the door behind me. I yanked the trunk where I kept my weapons and spare ammunition out from under my bed. I found a set of headgear that protected the ears. Rob gave them to me to wear when I went to the firing range.

  “Parker, under the bed,” I said, tossing his pillow under there. My voice brooked no argument and he didn’t offer any. I’d keep these kids safe with my last breath. It was all that mattered now. My life had been refined to this, and that is what I’d do. “Put these on,” I said, handing him the headset. “Stay under there until I pull you out. Okay?” He nodded, his eyes huge and frightened.

  Kitty had a small .22 revolver in her hand. I dug out the shells and showed her how to load it. Then I loaded my extra magazine, found some more ammunition for the rifle, and sat down on the bed.

  I leaned back against the wall, rested the rifle on my knee, and sighted the door. If anything came through there, I’d take them out. I glanced over at Kitty. She looked back with grim resolve. I’ll not draw comparisons with last stands, but this was ours. I could see by the look in her eyes that she intended to survive it. So did I.

  The gunfire had slowed. I glanced out the window to see the blazing remains of Mr. Kowalski’s prized possession. I grimaced— it was a shame. But I’d lament its loss later. I had more important things to consider right now.

  I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, making my hands shake. I evened out my breathing, and focused. I heard glass break downstairs. They were in the lodge now, I realized. Footsteps sounded on the stairs; a board squeaked. That was the second stair from the bottom. It had a loose nail. I had planned to fix it.

  The doorknob turned, painfully slow, meeting the resistance of the lock. A heartbeat, two, and then the door exploded inward. Kitty screamed.

  I met the eyes of the man through the scope and gasped. He looked back; shock blossomed over his face when he recognized me.

  “Holy fuck, Sharon,” Jameson said, taking a step forward. I jumped off the bed, motioning Kitty to stay.

  “Jamie?” I asked. I knew it was him, but the shock of it made me slow.

  “Sharon you have to run and hide. The government is falling apart. The military is in control. General Daniels is dead, and the bastard that took his place didn’t wait for the disease to kill him. They know you know what’s on those files, and they aren’t going to leave anyone alive who can jeopardize their grab for power.

  “Why are you here?” I asked. “You work for Global Weather.”

  “I volunteered for this mission when I heard your name,” he said, taking another step into the room. “We have to go, now.” His voice was urgent.

  “Jamie, I have Parker,” I said, and then there was an explosion. Time slowed down. My breath was loud in my ears; my heart raced. Blood splattered across my face. Some of it got in my mouth. The taste of iron was heavy on my tongue. Jamie fell to the floor dead, and time resumed its course.

  “Daddy!” Parker screamed and scooted out from under the bed. Kitty launched herself at him and pulled him to her before he could reach Jameson. I looked up to see Lucia standing in the doorway.

  Her eyes widened when she realized who the assassin had been. Parker was on the floor sobbing so hard there was no sound. Kitty cried along with him, finally giving vent to the loss that she had endured. Paul appeared behind Lucia. He staggered back against the wall and slid to the floor, his body pushed beyond its limits.

  “What happened?” Gerry asked as his presence filled the doorframe.

  I bent down and picked up Parker, bringing Kitty with me.

  “Are you all okay?” I asked, looking at them, searching for injuries. They nodded. Lucia’s eyes were bright with tears. She was trying not to blink, but it was a losing battle. She nodded and closed her eyes, trying to hide the pain that this messed up world had visited upon us.

  “We can’t stay here. They’ll keep coming,” I said, looking at the body of my friend. Jamie had risked his life to come here and warn me. He didn’t know I had his son; he was just trying to do the right thing. What he had told me about those who sought to control what was left of mankind wasn’t a shock. I suspected that civilization would break down, but I didn’t expect to become a target. As I stood there holding Kitty and feeling Parker’s tiny body shake with sobs, my resolve grew. I had endangered them all trying to find those files. I knew I couldn’t find a cure. And if I was honest, I knew I wasn’t capable of synthesizing a vaccine. It had been a desperate hope of finding redemption on my part. It had been a fool’s errand, but I’d not jeopardize them again.

  We left the lodge that night under the cover of darkness. The UPS truck had not made it, but the bus had managed to escape any serious damage. We loaded up what supplies we could and headed north, leaving behind carnage. We didn’t know where we were going or what awaited us once we got there, but that wasn’t the point. We were together, and everyone was alive. Bandaged and bleeding from wounds that were both visible and unseen, but whole, and uninfected, we had
all fought and killed for one another and if that wasn’t family, then I didn’t know what was.

  * * *

  It is said that to everything there is a season. A season to laugh and a season to weep, a season to heal and a season to kill. A season to live and a season to die. These are the stories of a group of survivors during the Season of the Dead.

  Also Available From Spore Press

  LYKAIA

  by Sharon Van Orman

  Co-Author of Season of the Dead

  5 Stars on barnesandnoble.com

  4.9 Stars on Amazon.com

  4.65 Stars on GoodReads.com

  “I'm afraid I won't be able to properly express my fascination with LYKAIA. It was such an awesome read I would definitely recommend it to all who'd love to spend some quality time with a really well-written book.

  The main character, forensic pathologist Sophia Katsaros gets a phone call from Greece and finds out that her brothers have been missing for two months. She goes there to start an investigation of her own that might not end well for her.

  This book has everything in it to satisfy a fastidious reader: really well thought-through plot line, fleshed out characters, tension, suspense, and more. I read the second half of the novel in one sitting, so riveting it was. I enjoyed Sharon's manner of writing. It is of the highest quality.”

  -Amazon Review