by Joseph Souza
A hundred yards away, he saw a member of his team landing in an open space located just outside the gates. He could tell from the soldier’s approach that it was Crozier. Another group of the diseased rushed over and gathered below Crozier, waiting for the soldier to land. Gritz sprinted towards him, shouting at the top of his lungs for him to shoot the diseased people dead. For a second, he wondered if he’d misread the demands of the mob? Maybe all they wanted was food or assistance. Gritz envisioned himself facing a court martial for having killed innocent civilians. But right now, he didn’t care.
He shouted for Crozier to take out his rifle and fire at them, but the soldier couldn’t hear him; the diseased were screaming so loud that it blocked all noise out. Gritz realized that if he fired a burst now, he risked hitting his fellow soldier. Crozier landed and disappeared into the diseased crowd. Sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him, Gritz prayed that the people crowding around him were merely begging for help. Off in the distance, he could see the remainder of his platoon gliding gently to earth. In a matter of minutes, his men would have the entire facility surrounded.
Despite the sixty-pound pack attached to his back, Gritz arrived at the spot where Crozier had landed. About a dozen of the radiated people huddled around him, shielding the soldier from view. But what were they doing to him? The thought even crossed his mind that they were thanking Crozier for coming to their rescue. Upon reaching him, however, he was horrified by what he saw. They were squatting over his body and taking bites out of his flesh, making loud grunting noises like hyenas fighting for the choicest morsels.
But Crozier was still alive and fighting for life. He flailed his arms and legs madly, trying to keep the monsters at bay. But it didn’t stop them from sinking their teeth into his flesh and ripping away chunks of skin. Gritz lifted his rifle and fired off a couple of rounds, decapitating the sick bastards. Certain he’d killed all of them, he ran over to the young soldier and squatted down next to him. The sight of the young man nearly made Gritz vomit. The kid’s stomach had been ripped apart, and his entrails gushed out. Two of his ribs were exposed, and his face was covered with bite marks and scratches. His left eye was missing, and the top part of his head had been torn off as if scalped. Gritz could see the outer layer of Crozier’s brain.
“Over and out, T,” Crozier uttered. “Go help the others, T. You ain’t doing me any good now.”
“Close your eyes, kid, and it’ll be over soon.”
“Don’t feel no pain anyway. Say a prayer for me, T.”
“I will, kid.”
Crozier closed his eyes, took a quick gasp of breath, and then succumbed to his massive injuries. Gritz had experienced much death and dying in his twenty-odd years in Special Forces, but this one had left him unprepared for the raw emotions he now felt. He stared down at the dead soldier, saying a quick prayer despite the fact that he was not a religious man. Never before had he seen injuries quite like the ones this kid had suffered. He glanced over and examined the headless savages who had done this to him. They looked sickly and ravished, as if they’d contracted some kind of disease. Their skin looked gray and unwholesome. He wondered if radiation poison could cause people to go insane and make them want to consume human flesh? Or maybe it was a biological weapon that had affected their brains. Was that the reason he had been called here in the first place?
He ran around the perimeter of the fence, searching for the others in his unit. Where had they gone? Near another grove of trees he discovered some discarded parachutes along the ground. At least some of his men had made it down safely. Suddenly, he heard a noise high above. He looked up and noticed Crooker hanging from one of the trees, struggling to cut one of the lines that had snagged on a branch. Suspended in the air, he couldn’t quite cut himself loose.
“Hold on,” Gritz shouted up. “I’ll climb up there and cut you down.”
“If you cut the top line, T, I can swing down and grab the branch just below me.”
“Sounds good.”
“What happened to all the others?”
“I saw them land safely. Beyond that, I don’t know where they went.”
Gritz scampered up the tree. It took a bit longer than expected because of the backpack and the rifle. Once he’d made it up to the line, he removed his pack and secured it to the branch just above his head. Leaning down to cut the line, he noticed something moving below him.
“What the hell are you doing, T?”
“Shhh. Down below.”
They stared down at the ground and saw a large group of people moving below them. The group staggered slowly as if lost, grunting and snorting like wild animals. Gritz counted at least thirty of them, which wouldn’t have been a problem but for the fact that he now guessed that there were many more of them loitering around. The two men waited in silence as the group moved past.
“What the hell kind of terrorists are these clowns?” Crooker whispered. “Not a very smart bunch, moving out in the open like that. We’ll have a field day mowing those dumb bastards down.”
“It’s not terrorists we’re up against,” Gritz said. “I’m afraid it’s much worse than that.”
“Who could it be, then?”
“Our own people. American citizens.”
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank my family for the love and support they gave me while I was writing this novel, especially my son, Danny, who read the book straight through and gave me many great comments. Thanks, Marleigh and Allie, for cheering me on.
To all the members of my writing group who provided me with valuable feedback during the process, and that includes you Bryan, Julie, Lisa, PJ, Gab, Steve and Rachael. Your support and fellowship means everything to me. And a special thanks goes out to Steve Konkoly, a talented novelist, who helped me in more ways than I can mention here.
A shout out goes to my editor Felicia A. Sullivan for her concise editing skills and sage advice. Her assistance was invaluable in getting this project published, and I look forward to working with her on the future installments of this trilogy. And also to artist Jeroen ten Barge for listening to my needs and creating a memorable cover.
And a special thanks to my mother who instilled in me a love of reading and all things related to books.
Thanks to all!
Table of Contents
Copyright
About the Author
THE REAWAKENING
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Excerpt from The Living Dead Trilogy Book II: Darpocalypse
Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Copyright
About the Author
THE REAWAKENING
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter
25
Excerpt from The Living Dead Trilogy Book II: Darpocalypse
Acknowledgments