The Salvation Plague | Book 1 |The Turning

by Masters, A. L.

“My name is Anna Collins,” she said, offering her hand.

  “Sten Halvorsen,” he said, shaking hers gently.

  He leaned completely in the window and offered his hand to Jared. He took up the entire space. She squeezed herself back against the seat, a little exasperated. He had an honest-to-goodness axe slung on his back. It was not a woodcutting axe.

  Okay, that was unexpected.

  Oddly enough, he didn’t stink like she thought he would. He smelled slightly of sweat, but mostly of the woods with a hint of woodsmoke. It was actually sort of pleasant. She was certain that it didn’t come from a bottle.

  “Jared Carson,” Jared told him.

  He backed out of the window and waved at the man closest to the dump truck. He jumped in and moved the truck out of their way. Jared looked at Sten expectantly.

  “Mind if I ride in back?”

  “Go ahead,” Jared said.

  Sten jumped in and carefully shifted their gear over a little. They both had their weapons in the front seat with them, otherwise she might have been a bit more wary. She couldn’t say that she was particularly thrilled to have a stranger in the backseat with a shotgun though.

  He didn’t seem like a bad guy, but she could be wrong.

  “Drive straight on through. Watch for the little ones,” he said.

  “Kids?” she asked.

  “Yep, we’ve got a bunch of youngsters running around here.”

  He wasn’t kidding. The road that was revealed was covered in sidewalk chalk. Symbols, names, smiley faces, and hopscotch squares took up every square inch. It was pretty and slightly disturbing. That would have taken a lot of kids.

  “I hate driving over their pictures,” Jared said.

  “Nah, we wash it off every day so they can do it again,” Sten said, waving away his concern.

  “Wow.”

  They drove straight through the community. The small gas station and market at the corner of the intersection was bustling. They had set it up as a kind of food storage facility. Fresh produce and meat lined the counters inside. Two horses were tied up outside. One even had a small cart attached to the traces. These people were prepared.

  “You guys had any trouble with those biters?” she asked.

  “The draug? A bit. The next town down is full of them. I’ll warn you now to roll on through without slowing down. They were a bunch of no-good addicts anyway. We always had trouble with them before, and it’s no different now. Least we don’t have to deal with them messing with our kids anymore.”

  “Huh.” What could she say to that?

  “Did you say draug? Like on the videogame?” Jared asked. Leave it to Jared to know something like that.

  “I don’t know about any videogame. Waste of time staring at a television screen. The draug are what we call the sick ones that turned. We had a couple of draugs here, but we took care of them quickly. They were old ones. Most of us didn’t get sick.”

  They passed houses closer to the road and she saw armed mothers with babies. Some younger kids even had smaller weapons. She had no doubt that they knew how to use them too. They had an army here. They saw another dump truck parked across the road on this side of town and Jared slowed.

  “This is fine,” Sten said and jumped out.

  He waved at the trees and a man appeared to move the obstruction. Sten turned back to them again.

  “Remember, drive on through that town up there. Don’t stop or you’ll never leave. Don’t tell anyone about us,” he warned.

  “We won’t. Thanks, Sten. It was nice to meet you,” she said.

  He gave her small half-smile and she was fascinated to see that he was a handsome man behind the threatening and grim demeanor. Interesting. He walked off into the woods and they drove on. Behind them, the dump truck moved back into place.

  “That was—”

  “Badass,” Jared finished for her.

  “I was going to say a little weird,” she replied.

  “Badass. Did you hear him? They call those things draugs! That’s perfect. That’s what we’ll call them.”

  “Draugs or draug?” she asked.

  “Draug is a group or a single one based on article usage, I assume.”

  She raised her head slowly in a single nod.

  “I had no idea that we had Vikings around here,” he said.

  She gave him a grimacing smile. She wasn’t going to say a word.

  ◆◆◆

  The town full of draug— draugs? — was another twenty or so miles down the road. They had some time to prepare, though they didn’t plan to stop. They passed the random, odd house. Most were only marked by driveways and set far back off the road. She wondered if the people who lived in them were still there, and if so, were they normal or sick?

  Clouds rolled overhead and provided a nice respite from the heat. It was a blistering 103 degrees in the sun, as reported by Jared’s truck. She hoped they would get a cooler spell soon. She leaned back and closed her eyes. The motion of the truck was lulling, and she found that her nerves and anticipation had abated. She could actually sleep.

  ◆◆◆

  “Damn,” she heard from the driver’s seat. “Anna.”

  She opened her eyes and sat up. “What?”

  “We have to stop. The truck is overheating. I need you to keep watch while I see what’s going on.”

  She shook off the groggy tiredness and felt dread settle on her shoulders. Was everything they set out to do destined to go wrong?

  If he couldn’t fix it, what would they do? They were at least ten miles from Oak Grove, and she wasn’t even sure Sten would help them. Ten miles ahead also wasn’t much of an option, not unless they wanted to die quickly. The little town was full of the sick, according to Sten.

  She got out and walked around the truck, keeping her eyes on the tree line to either side, and the road to the front and back. She didn’t hear anything but birds chirping. That was a good sign.

  She heard a sigh from under the hood. “This truck isn’t going anywhere.”

  “What? Why? You can’t fix it?” she said.

  “Smell that?” he asked.

  She sniffed, taking in a lungful of the hot, humid air. She smelled a familiar odor, like pungent maple syrup. “Antifreeze?”

  “Yep. Radiator hose is leaking. It’s shooting out all over the place under here. We try to drive it and the engine will seize up for sure.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Get your stuff. We’ll have to walk back to one of those houses and maybe find a vehicle. Hopefully, we won’t get killed in the process,” he said.

  “I could run back to Oak Grove—”

  “No. I don’t want you going that far alone. Anyway, I doubt they’ll welcome another intrusion by us. No, we’ll search the houses.”

  She nodded and grabbed her bag, slinging it on her back. She was grateful she had listened when he said not to pack more than one bag. As it was, they were going to be loaded down with as much ammo and water as they could carry.

  Jared locked the truck up, but with nothing but plastic covering the back window she knew it wouldn’t keep anyone out for long. There was nothing they could do about it now. He started walking and she followed, trotting a little to catch up to his longer strides. They needed to get this done quickly and get back on the road.

  The clouds were still rolling in overhead. They gave them some much-needed protection from the sun. The air was hot and still. The slight breeze was too hot to cool them off.

  Random animals made noises in the woods on either side. Quick darts in the underbrush told her that they had startled something small, perhaps a snake or even a rabbit or squirrel. The leaves on the trees were flipped and showed their light green undersides. It was going to storm for sure.

  The first option they came to was an ill-kept driveway. She looked at the rusted mailbox skeptically but followed Jared down anyway. The road was badly rutted, with vegetation encroaching on either side. There was no evidence o
f power lines or telephone lines.

  “Don’t think we’re going to find anything here,” he said, stopping at the first bend in the road.

  “Yeah, let’s try the next one. It had newer gravel.”

  They went back and walked on. The next driveway was further along, perhaps a half-mile if her distance gauging was correct. Being a runner, it usually was.

  Sweat trickled from her hairline and down her face. Her shirt was quickly becoming drenched. This kind of heat and humidity wasn’t fit for anyone to be walking in. The pavement held in heat and made for a more miserable walking surface, but the shoulder was virtually non-existent. It was thigh-high with grass and vegetation. That was a good way to get a snake bite.

  She got a bottle of water out and drank half. Hydration was going to be an issue if they didn’t find a vehicle soon. She took mental stock of their supply. They each carried four liters, but that wouldn’t last long if they were going to have to keep walking. Jared also carried some electrolyte sticks to mix in the water. They would need to use one each when they stopped.

  “Do you hear that?” he asked, stopping suddenly.

  She stopped. “Chickens?!”

  “Yep, it’s coming from the woods there. I bet these people have chickens,” he said.

  “How ever did you deduce that, Sherlock?” she asked with a grin.

  “Can it, Sweet Corn,” he said, and gently bumped her good shoulder. Their light banter ended as the mailbox came into view.

  “I wonder if anyone is home?”

  “We’re about to find out,” he said grimly.

  That is what she was worried about. She didn’t want to get shot again. Her arm still ached though it was much better than it was. She had a few more days left on her antibiotics.

  Her stomach grumbled and she covered it with her hand. She probably should have eaten breakfast. Taking food for granted these days was not smart.

  They sped up as they reached the light grey gravel. The mailbox was in good repair and freshly painted. The drive was well-kept. They heard the chickens squawking more clearly now. She chewed her lip as they started down the short driveway.

  “Save some lip for later,” he said in a low voice. She stopped chewing.

  The house came into view as soon as they passed the boundary of manicured shrubbery and trees. It was an old white farmhouse, nicely kept and well maintained, though the grass was getting a little long. The shutters were a cheery green and the porch had an American flag fluttering idly in the breeze and many cozy-looking chairs. It was actually an exceptionally beautiful place. It felt restful.

  The wind was starting to pick up, bringing cooler air and a hint of wet asphalt. It was raining somewhere. As if to prove her correct, the low rumble of thunder echoed overhead. It would be a nice relief from the heat, but a new truck would be even better.

  “The doors and windows are closed. The blinds are shut,” she said.

  “There’s an SUV over there,” he said, nodding behind the house.

  So far, nothing moved. The chickens still complained in the back, but there was no other sign of life. She felt as if they should whisper. She was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

  “Maybe we should try somewhere else?” she said.

  He shook his head. “We’ve got to check here. I’m going to go knock on the door. You stay here and watch my back.”

  Fear made her heart race. She stood in the shade of a large snowball bush and watched the house nervously. She rested her hand on the holster at her thigh and wished Bradley and Stewart, or even Hank, were here to help watch Jared’s back. She felt extremely inadequate.

  Her scalp itched from the sweat and she heard mosquitoes buzzing in the air around her. She knew she’d probably be covered in the itchy bites later. She didn’t want to take her eyes off Jared for a second.

  He knocked on the door.

  “Hello?” he called out like it was just a normal day. She wanted to tell him to be quiet.

  “We had car trouble down the road,” he said a bit louder. “We don’t want any trouble.”

  That’s the first thing people intending to cause trouble would say…

  She spotted movement at the blinds near a large bay window. They smashed against the window and swayed wildly. She could see it from her place in the yard.

  But he couldn’t see it from his place on the recessed porch.

  “Jared, something’s not right!” she called out.

  He turned toward her, frowned, and walked down the steps. That was a mistake.

  At that very second a large, blurred shape smashed itself through the big window. Glass shattered instantly and in the glittering shards she saw the biter —draug— leap toward Jared with a shrill shriek.

  It wore dark blue overalls stained with portentous smudges of the desecration from inside the house. Something very bad had happened in there.

  Its skin had faded, oddly light, working itself into strange ridges and pale flecks. It was adopting the characteristics of the house behind it.

  Jared sidestepped the creature’s attack, but it whirled so quickly that he failed to evade it a second time. It lunged; jagged teeth bared in a menacing hiss. Jared grasped it by the straps of its overalls and twisted, throwing the mutated draug to the side.

  It scrabbled at Jared’s sides as it tried to reach his throat.

  The scene unfolded in mere seconds and Anna unfroze. She dashed closer to the monstrous thing, pulled her pistol, and automatically thumbed off the safety. She gripped it in both hands and fired twice. She resisted the insane urge to close her eyes.

  She saw black fluid splatter out. She had hit it in the shoulder. It staggered back a little and whipped its head toward her. It was crippled, but not dead. Jared’s arm shook violently as he held it back with one white-knuckled hand. With his other, he pulled his own pistol. He shoved the barrel forward, firing simultaneously.

  The draug’s head exploded out the back and splattered the ground beyond. The silence rang with the report. Even the chickens stopped their incessant bawking.

  Jared dropped his hold on the corpse’s overalls, and they watched it fall with a loud thud to the grass. It turned from a textured white to black, slowly losing its strange chameleon-like qualities. Jared’s face was red and sweaty; his eyes were wide and wild. He looked to her and held out his free arm. The other still held the pistol ready, just in case.

  She ran over to him and he wrapped his arm around her. She pulled him back to the shade of the now-incongruous snowball bush. Horrifying events shouldn’t take place in beautiful settings.

  “Are you okay? Jared?” she demanded.

  He took his eyes off the dead thing and looked at her. “Yeah, yeah. I think so.” He patted his stomach and raised his shirt a little. Red welts stood out on his skin. “It was really trying to claw me to death!”

  “Here,” she said, and held out a bottle of water. She unzipped a pouch at his waist and dumped in a packet of electrolytes before shaking it up. She made him drink the whole bottle. “We need to cool off and rest a moment.”

  “I need to clear the house. We need those keys,” he returned.

  He wiped his face with the cleanest part of his shirt and caught his breath. Thunder rippled again and they felt sprinkles of rain start to tap at their skin. It felt wonderful.

  She frowned and looked at the body.

  Maybe.

  “Anna! Don’t go any closer to the house!” he said, reaching out for her.

  “I’m not.”

  She swallowed thickly and reached down to the body. She patted the draug’s pockets until she felt a bundle. She prodded it gingerly and heard a clink. Bingo.

  She fished out the key and held it up to Jared with a smile. “Let’s go see the chickens.”

  ◆◆◆

  As it turned out, the owners of the place did have a good number of chickens and a couple of roosters. Jared searched the small shed near the coop and found a large can of feed. They fed the hungry bird
s and topped off their waterers from a blue rain barrel nearby. They had plenty of grass still, and a large pen.

  “They should be fine here until we get back from Thompsonville. Unless something gets to them,” she said, looking toward the house. It didn’t look so cheery and nice anymore.

  In fact, it looked like a house of horrors; cunningly innocuous on the outside…full of fiendish, murderous creatures on the inside.

  “I think they’ll be fine. I don’t think there is anything else in that house.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Did you see that draug’s overalls? All that blood had to come from somewhere.”

  She grimaced and felt pity for the person who lived here with that thing. The draug used to be a man, and the blood probably belonged to his wife. Their last days in that place must have been terrifying.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Aunt Mollie’s Pecan Pie

  They were back on the road, with half a tank of gas in their new ride, when the storm began to get worse. The trees lining both sides of the highway whipped back and forth in the maelstrom, their overturned leaves showing pale in the rapidly dimming light. Wet leaves broke from the branches overhead and stuck to the windshield. Jared fumbled with the unfamiliar controls until the wipers came on.

  “Looks like a bad one,” she said.

  “Yeah, hopefully it will blow over quickly. We needed the rain though.”

  They stopped at the truck and jumped out into the tumultuous weather. She stood in the stinging rain and kept watch on all sides as Jared transferred the rest of their gear and all his personal belongings from the pickup.

  With the fierce winds, the crashing thunder, and the pouring rain, they wouldn’t be able to hear an attacker moving. She made doubly sure not to get distracted or focus on one direction too long.

  He finished his task and signaled to her. She ran back to the truck. She was thoroughly soaked, and it felt awesome. He ran to the driver’s side and got in. He sat back for a moment.

  “I’m going to miss that truck. I had it paid off and everything.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe we can come back and fix it?” she suggested.