The Sixth Extinction America Omnibus [Books 1-12]

by Johnson, Glen

  There are plenty of women and men onboard. Yes, some are older than others, but wasn’t Sarah in her nineties, and Abraham a hundred when they gave birth to Isaac? Age is no obstacle to the Almighty Lord.

  Troy had never sat down and read the bible, as if it was a paperback to be digested. He cursed himself for his previous lack of faith and wasted years.

  He remembered a few things from bible school when he was a child. Things that must have registered because the information flowed through him now, guided by the Holy Spirit.

  All the years I wasted, drinking, gambling and watching TV, when I could’ve been studying His Word.

  If I make it back, I will ask the priest for his bible to read. Maybe the pastor could teach me.

  He can imagine his beautiful wife smiling down from her heavenly position, happy at his new mindset.

  The years I wasted from a broken heart, when I could have been doing something useful to further the Lords work. However, this is my time. The Lord has called me forth, and I have answered.

  Troy heard a bang behind him, as if a heavy metal door swung shut.

  Surely, Smokie would have sent others by now. Probably the King brothers.

  If it is Gods will, I will reach them first.

  Troy picked up his pace.

  259

  Stu, Soozie and the children

  On a beach

  Somewhere on the shore in New York State

  “Let her go!” Soozie shouted over the roar of the outboard motor, and the screaming infected. “She’s dead!”

  However, the man in his grief-stricken state refused to release the dead female. If anything, his grip tightened.

  The boat was curving in a large arc; the drag in the water of the two bodies was pulling the craft to the left, right back to the beach.

  Behind her, the boy was trying to reach past Soozie and pull the man into the boat.

  The young girl was curled up in a ball, with her hands gripping her flowing mane of red hair.

  “Release him, Soozie!” Stu shouted. “It’s either them, or all of us!”

  “NO!” the boy screamed.

  With the drag, Stu had the rudder turned in the complete opposite direction. It had no effect; the bodies were displacing more water than the rudder.

  The infected reached the shoreline and churned into the ocean. The mass of naked bodies piled into the water, frothing the waves.

  Stu’s head was thumping from a headache, from when he was knocked unconscious on the same beach, what seemed like weeks ago.

  What was I thinking, returning here? I must have had a breakdown.

  He knew he saw someone that looked like his missing daughter, Hanna, and that triggered some kind of crazy reaction. Stu just hoped he lived through this to regret his actions.

  All that can wait, Stu thought, right now Soozie has to let the man go, or nothing else will matter.

  “SOOZIE!” Stu shouted.

  Soozie had no choice, as her hands unhooked and the man slipped through her fingers she fell back into the boat, knocking the boy onto his butt.

  “NOOOOO!” the boy’s screams intensified as he scrambled to the side, reaching out. “MOTHER! FATHER!”

  Soozie wrapped her arms around him, stopping him from jumping in after them.

  The man tried to keep hold of the woman, but the waves took him. As Stu gunned the engine, and raced away to open water, the man and dead woman vanished in their wake.

  260

  Alex and Terrance

  Down inside the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  Alex gripped the Berretta handgun. He didn’t feel any safer holding the weapon. He had seen how hectic and ravenous the infected could be. He would rather have no weapon and be locked in a secure room. What he wouldn’t give to swap places with one of those safe back inside the superstructure.

  If they missed a man on this vast vessel, what else could be lurking behind the next hatch? Sue seemed confidence that Tia would have sniffed anyone or anything out. However, the small dog seemed to love everyone. She was more likely to lick someone to death that ever attempt to bite them. Apart from Naomi. For some reason, the little dog whimpered when she was close.

  Terrance walked with confidence. He also held the shotgun as if it wasn’t the first time he had used one.

  “Do you have it in you to shoot someone not fully changed?” Terrance asked over his shoulder, as they made their way towards the stern.

  “If I have to,” Alex muttered.

  “Just make sure you don’t shoot me in the back of the head, or get in the way of my shotgun blast.”

  Because the stern was close to the superstructure, it wasn’t long before they were turned around and heading towards the bow.

  They were right over the massive engines, and the vibration rattled their teeth and numbed their feet.

  Alex knew it would be different shooting a person that wasn’t fully changed. Once they were fully infected, they acted more like a crazed animal than a human. It felt like he was doing them a favour putting them out of their misery. However, if they still had some semblance of humanity left – could still speak and beg for mercy – what would he do? Could he still kill them?

  He had killed more infected than he cared to remember. He used baseball bats, pipes, chunks of wood, anything as a blunt force weapon to achieve the desired effects. If anything, a gun would be easier – no physical contact – less personal and more distance.

  Alex remembered the first days wandering around after the outbreak. Like everyone else, he was confused. The world turned upside-down in a matter of days. Everything he was raised to believe – everything he thought he knew, was now useless. It was everyone for themselves.

  A bang up ahead made Alex jump and pull him out of his reminiscing.

  Terrance made a fist and motioned for Alex to stop walking and stay quiet, just like he saw in hundreds of movies.

  No more sounds echoed down the corridor, just the humming and vibrations of the powerful engines.

  Terrance pointed along the metal passageway and nodded in that direction.

  As if there’s dozens of options – just forward or back, Alex thought. Terrance is going a little overboard. What does he think he is, a Navy Seal?

  Just then, the loud ship’s horn blasted, resounding throughout the ship like a klaxon.

  261

  Lindell and Mollee

  Down inside the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  Lindell led the way. He had to keep looking back to check the young girl was still following him; her bare feet made no sound on the metal decking.

  Mollee’s moody, silent presence was unsettling. Her head was always slightly lowered, as if masking her anger, and it was difficult to see what she was looking at. He didn’t feel threatened by her presence, but it did unnerve him.

  Someone so young having so much rage.

  He also knew it was a different world now; people had to toughen up, or they wouldn’t last long. It just made him sad to see it. However, he understood; she had lost, close loved ones – they all had. That changes a person forever.

  Lindell thought about his own daughter and where she might be. He just prayed her stepfather was keeping her safe. The fact he had no idea where she was, or even if she was still alive was eating him up inside.

  He pushed the thoughts aside.

  Concentrate.

  They were making good progress. The inside of the vast vessel was pretty much one continuous corridor that made a circle around the complete ship. There were few hatches off the main passageway, but they checked each one to be sure the stranger hadn’t dragged Naomi inside.

  Soon they would meet up with his brother and Alex.

  They had opened five of the main cargo hold hatches – three were stacked full of canned vegetable oil, and some with Chinese New Year decorations.

  They stood in silence and strained their hearing inside each vas
t hold, in case they could hear Naomi struggling or screaming.

  So far, all was quiet.

  Unless the man has already slit her throat and left her in a pool of blood? Lindell reasoned.

  Suddenly, there was a loud bang up ahead.

  Lindell crouched with his weapon raised.

  Mollee stood motionless, staring over Lindell’s head.

  They waited for what felt like hours. There were no other sounds.

  Just as Lindell got to his feet and continued on, the ships loud horn resounded around them.

  Ah, great. Now what? Lindell wondered.

  262

  Frank and the others

  Inside the superstructure of the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  The coffee was stone cold in Frank’s hand. He was still in the same seat at the back of the mess hall. The four had been sent out to hopefully get Naomi back, and the others had gathered into small groups to chat about the situation they now found themselves in.

  No one asked him to join their group. His theatrical running around with a bottle of wine in one hand and the bible in the other made people move away from him.

  Frank’s head was still pounding.

  I deserve the hangover, he told himself. I deserve everything that is coming to me. That’s what I get for putting my belief in a higher power – the so-called ultimate power in the universe. He made a snorting sound.

  A few people gave him a quick glance.

  He ignored them and their judgment.

  Frank slowly stood and placed the cold coffee on a table as he headed for the exit.

  A few people were outside. Some were smoking.

  Even with everything that has happened, and is happening, they still have the nicotine addiction. Where do they get the cigarettes? he mused.

  There was a person on each end of the walkway with weapons raised to protect the entrance. A group of four smokers huddled together against the wind that had picked up.

  Frank glanced heavenwards as a force of habit. He noticed the circling seagulls.

  Strange, they are so silent.

  He had lived by the coast for many years, and the most familiar sound was that of the cawing seagulls. To see so many circling far above, in silence was strange.

  Maybe the sound of the engines and waves is blocking them out; he reasoned.

  He then decided they might not be seagulls after all, they didn’t look that white from a distance. He had no idea what other seafaring birds gathered in a large group around ships.

  He gave it little thought and stared down the length of the vessel.

  The walkway was many stories above the deck below, and he had a perfect view across the ship.

  So many containers.

  He wondered what they could possibly hold.

  Maybe I will offer to help break into the containers with Emma and Sue; he reasoned. I might as well be useful. It’s not as if anyone needs a priest.

  No one asked him why God was allowing the pandemic. No one asked him to pray for them. In fact, people went out of their way to avoid talking to him.

  He felt the weight of the bible in his large pocket. He adjusted the dressing gown, pulling it closer to his body against the biting cold.

  Why should they care what an invisible deity has to say, in a book that is thousands of years old? What possible good could words penned in a different era make?

  Sixty-six small books joined to make one. Written by over forty different people, ranging from kings, priests, tax collectors, Shepard’s and doctors. Stories of events thousands of years in the past.

  Frank gave a sigh.

  The smell of the cigarettes reminded him of the time when he used to smoke, before he transformed his life. Even now, over a decade later, he could still remember the taste of them.

  “Bloody cold,” Frank muttered as he gripped the handle and pulled open the hatch.

  Suddenly, people were pointing up at the sky, while taking a step back away from the railings.

  Frank looked up.

  The seagulls were no longer circling far above; they were diving directly towards those on the walkway.

  Frank was halfway inside the hatch, in the process of closing the door behind himself when the first seagull slammed into the window. It was quickly followed by another.

  Emma, higher up in the wheelhouse, was pulling on the ships loud horn, warning people of the bird’s odd behaviour.

  263

  Smokie and the others

  Inside the superstructure of the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  Smokie tapped a finger against the magnolia folder. She had flicked through it twice. Nothing jogged her memory, or why something felt wrong.

  She sipped her coffee with whisky. It soothed her muscles and backache.

  I could do with a few hours sleep. Hell, a few days would be nice.

  She muttered the port names one after another. For some reason, Madagascar rung a bell.

  That can wait. One problem at a time.

  She would first wait until the King brothers, and Mollee and Alex found Naomi and sorted out the infected stranger. Then she could worry about the ships manifest, after she got some much-needed sleep.

  Four against one was good odds, and they had guns, when the stranger only had a knife. It was only a matter of time before the situation was sorted out, one way or another.

  She knew the King brothers understood the situation. They would dispose of the stranger’s body over the side of the ship – along with Naomi’s as well, if she was infected.

  Maybe then we can relax a little and start rebuilding.

  We have survived the end of the world. The attack on the island when the water drained away. We survived the road to the beach, and then the fight on the shoreline, only to reach the vessel and get attacked by other humans who have used the pandemic to their own advantage. We are on the home stretch now, just one infected to deal with, and then we can put the worst behind us.

  Smokie gripped her chest out of force of habit.

  Before the outbreak, she was seeing her doctor about irregular heart palpitations, along with dizziness and tightness in the chest area. Over the months leading up to the pandemic, she had been taking a regiment of tablets. However, once the world ended, and she ran out of medication, she was worried the pain would restart. So far, she felt okay – apart from exhaustion.

  The doctor did say I needed more exercise.

  She started to go on long walks through the parks and around the neighbourhood. Regardless of where she walked, or what exercise she tried, she felt like something was missing.

  She arranged a relaxing boat trip down the Hudson River, which would take her from New York to Montreal, Canada.

  The change of scenery, and the sound of the water will do me some good; she reasoned at the time.

  She often wondered what would have happened if she had been at home in her apartment when the outbreak occurred, rather than on a pleasure cruise down the Hudson. She believed being away from the mass population saved her life.

  She also chuckled to herself when she wondered if hacking an infected to bit’s counted as ‘good’ exercise.

  The sound of something slamming into the window drew Smokie’s attention. There were people outside smoking. They were flinging their arms around as something rained down from the sky.

  Smokie jumped to her feet, dropping her coffee as she raced to the hatch.

  Just then, the vessel’s loud horn echoed throughout the ship.

  What’s going on?

  Frank lay inside the hatch, having fallen backwards in his haste to get inside.

  “What’s happening?” Smokie shouted. However, no one could hear her over the sound of the ship’s horn.

  Just then, a bird slapped its wings against the metal hull, trying to get itself inside the gap of the open hatch.

  “Jesus Christ!” she shouted when she saw the seagull.

&
nbsp; It had no head, just a collection of withering black tentacles. Its once white body was smeared in black, dripping goo.

  “It’s infected!” she screamed as she pulled an axe from her belt and cleaved the creature in half.

  She gripped the door handle and stared outside. The six people were lying on the walkway, their bodies convulsing, as the infected avian hosts attacked them.

  Smokie swung the hatch closed after kicking the body of the seagull out of the way. As the door slammed, she hooked the catch shut tight.

  There’s nothing we can do for them outside. I have to think of those left inside.

  “Make sure all the windows are closed,” she shouted into the mess hall now the ship’s horn had stopped.

  The others started to race around, shutting any open windows.

  Tia pranced back and forth, barking at the infected birds.

  Outside she could hear the screams of the six people as the birds continued to pummel against the thick glass.

  264

  Emma, Bachman, Ralph and Pete

  Zone 6

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  The group continued up the steep concrete steps. The spaced-out lights above flickered from time to time.

  “Are we there yet?” Pete muttered. Sweat poured down his forehead and back. The Smell of the grime and dry blood over his clothes was making him, and the others feel sick in such a confined space.

  No one bothered replying.

  After what seemed like hours, Ralph said, “We can get to Zone 8 through Zone 6 and 7. It will be riskier, but we have no choice.”

  “Will this place ever give us a fucking break?” Emma asked out of breath. She was using the mop handle as a walking aid.

  “It’s okay; I think we’re wearing the creatures down,” Bachman muttered.

  “Twat!” Emma said with a hint of a smile.