The Starborn Ascension: Books 1, 2, and 3 (The Starborn Saga)

by Jason D. Morrow

  “I’ve never brought anyone else here,” he said, staring up at the waterfall.

  We set our weapons on the ground and took off our shoes. The water was cold when we stepped into it, but it was refreshing. As we walked, I would occasionally pick up a pebble that looked particularly shiny, but then toss it back into the water, watching the tiny fish scatter. I tried to think about making a home here. There was plenty of water, and surely bigger fish came through, right? I pushed the thought from my head. That’s not what this place is for. This is just for today. Just for now. For us.

  “I found an arrowhead in here once,” Gilbert announced as he waded behind me.

  I smiled at him, thinking about all the times he must have been here in his own little world—a world that, if even briefly, he allowed me to enter.

  “You look a little hot,” he said with a devious grin.

  “Why, thank you,” I said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “No, I mean I think you could use a dip.”

  “Don’t you dare!” But it was too late. He rushed toward me and before I could run away he picked me up in his arms and I was at his mercy. “Don’t dip me, Gilbert! It’s cold!”

  He lowered me to the edge of the water, pretending like he was going to drop me but then pulled me up in the last second.

  “If I’m going under, you’re going with me,” I said.

  He stood there, seemingly thinking about the prospect. Then he shrugged. “Sounds good.”

  I barely let out a scream before we were both completely submerged in the icy stream. At first I felt shock and I wanted to swim up immediately, but after just a second, the water didn’t feel so cold. I decided to stay under and I opened my eyes to find that Gilbert was staying under with me. His mouth spread into a huge smile and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. I wished I could breathe under water because I didn’t want to go back up. This underwater world was safe from everything that haunted us on the outside. Here in this pool we were happy…alone…at peace.

  We decided to build a fire and try to somewhat dry off before heading back to the others in our group. We sat in full view of the waterfall. I marveled at how the water just kept pouring and never stopped. It felt infinite and alive.

  “This is what gives me hope,” Gilbert said.

  “The waterfall?” I asked.

  “The sense of it,” he answered. “To know that there is a place where I can feel completely safe and not worry means that other places can be that way too. The virus isn’t everywhere. It isn’t here. This is my happy memory.”

  I smiled, trying to think of my own happy memory. “I guess mine used to be my treehouse.”

  “Where you used to live?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I haven’t even been in it for years, but I loved that place when I was a kid. It was my spot to get away from my little sister mostly, but from the whole world too. Of course, it’s probably not safe anymore like here.”

  “You never know,” Gilbert said with a grin.

  “It can’t be.”

  “Well, make this your new place of hope,” he said. His hand reached to my wet, cold back and he pulled me in closer to him. “Make this your happy memory.”

  Our lips touched and despite the chilled clothes that clung to my skin, I never felt so warm. I never felt so safe. I never had so much hope.

  One Year Ago

  “But we aren’t that far,” I pleaded.

  Jerome looked at me and then shook his head. “It’s been two years, Remi. Your family won’t be there. And unless we’re going on a supply run, it would be suicide. Oakridge is more overrun than the Epicenter.”

  I found it hard to believe that he really knew that. Sure, everyone assumed that because Oakridge was a giant residential area that it was more overrun, but none of us had been there since the outbreak. I guessed it was something that I had to do for myself. I looked at Amy and Gene, but they averted their eyes. Only Gilbert agreed with me, but that wouldn’t help my case. All the others knew how he and I felt about each other.

  “I think we should go,” Gilbert said. “She has a right to know what happened to her family.”

  “Not all of us get that luxury,” Jerome said coldly.

  The night was cool, and the group was eager to fall asleep. The summer heat had been so terrible and tiring. At least we’d all be able to sleep better. The five of us had found a small house in the middle of nowhere. I knew we were only about twenty miles from my home, but Jerome’s plan to head west instead of north was not going to change.

  That night, I took first watch. I was always glad when I got first watch. That meant I would be able to sleep through the rest of the night without interruption. The only downside was that the person who got first watch would get last watch on the next night. And to me, last watch was the worst. I always had a feeling that Gene and Amy cheated a little whenever they had a shift in the middle of the night, sleeping when they were supposed to be alert.

  There had only been a few times over the past few months that we’ve had to wake the entire group over something moving in the distance. A couple of them were false alarms, but one of the instances set us on the run.

  Of course, recent times had not been nearly as bad as the beginning. Gilbert and I found Jerome, Amy, and Gene about a week after our meeting at the convenience store. The decision to join up with them was an easy one. Basically, they asked us if we had weapons and did we know how to use them? When we answered ‘yes’ then we were in. But all of us felt that five was enough. We were a small enough group that we could travel virtually unnoticed, but large enough to make shifts through the nights bearable.

  For the first little while, it seemed that we were all traveling without much of a purpose. There had been rumors of refugee camps and safety centers, but anytime we got near one, we learned of a new outbreak from within. The ‘safety’ centers seemed more dangerous than the outside world.

  But for the past two years, that was our life. We scavenged for food, fought off raiders, took out greyskins, but mostly we searched for safe haven. And we never found it.

  I held my rifle close to me as I sat on the porch swing at the front of the house, staring out into the darkness, ready to see anything move. I was happy for the moonlight because it allowed me to see much farther. Without it, there was hardly a reason to keep watch.

  I jumped when I heard a door creak behind me, but sighed when Gilbert walked out.

  “My shift isn’t over yet,” I said.

  He held a crowbar in his hands—not expecting a fight, just prepared for one. He sat in the porch swing next to me and we rocked gently.

  “I know,” he said. “I’m just making sure you are okay.”

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “I don’t need to go to Oakridge. In this world, two years is an eternity. I bet my family has moved on even if they are still alive.”

  “I’m willing to go with you,” Gilbert said.

  I turned my head toward him. The moon lit only half of his face, but I could tell that he was being sincere. I reached my hand out and rubbed his shoulder. It traveled from his shoulder to his neck, and then I pulled his face to me. Our lips pressed together and the warm feeling of the kiss seemed to make everything better. He kissed me back, his hands reaching my waist. I rested my forehead against his and I felt a single teardrop fall down my cheek.

  Gilbert reached up and wiped it away. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re good to me,” I said. “I’ve needed you from the beginning and you’re here. You’ve been here the whole time. That means everything to me.”

  “The others have been here the whole time too,” Gilbert said with a grin.

  “I’m grateful for them too.”

  “I couldn’t believe you still wanted me around after shooting at you that day at the convenience store.”

  “I just imagine you missed on purpose,” I said. “Otherwise, your shooting was terrible.”

  “I missed on purpose.”

  “Oh, I see�
��” I pull away from him, leaving my hand resting on his. It was weird to feel this way about a guy. At least, I’m sure it seemed weird to the others. Life was about surviving, not petty relationships. But this wasn’t petty at all. Gilbert and I had been a team from day…three, I guess. And that meant something.

  “I’m taking you to Oakridge,” he said.

  I shook my head at him. “There’s no point. Jerome is right. It would only be an unnecessary risk.”

  “Maybe not with just the two of us,” he said.

  “But really, if things are as bad out there as people say, then my family is long gone—whether they’re dead or undead.”

  “It would be a good chance for you to show me your old treehouse,” he said, standing from the swing.

  I look away from him, staring out into the night. “There’s no point.”

  “Yeah there is. I’ll talk to them in the morning. It’s only a day trip.”

  He left the porch before I could say anything else. I knew he was just trying to be nice to me, but I really didn’t want him to talk to the group. I had made my case and the decision had been final. We weren’t going to Oakridge. The next morning, despite my objections, Gilbert brought it up.

  “Not only would it be good for Remi to explore her old home,” he said, “but there are tons of houses which means there are tons of supplies.”

  “I disagree,” Gene said. He scratched at his blonde beard nervously. “It’s been two years since the outbreak. You know as well as anyone those houses are most likely ransacked.”

  “And if they’re not,” Amy added, “then they are too dangerous to try.”

  “I still agree with the others,” Jerome said. He looked at me. “I’m sorry, Remi. It’s three-to-two.”

  “Four-to-one, actually” I said, shaking my head. “All of you are right. There’s no point. If I haven’t found my family now, I probably never will.”

  The look Gilbert gave me sent daggers into my stomach. I betrayed him. All he wanted was to help me, but I made him look like the desperate one. I looked down at the floor, averting my eyes from his.

  We traveled in a caravan of vehicles. Jerome led the way in one, while Gene and Amy traveled in the third vehicle behind me and Gilbert. All the backs of the vehicles were filled with supplies like blankets, clothes and tools. None of us knew where we were going. I mean, we had an idea of what towns we wanted to hit up, hopefully ones with solid shelter and more supplies. I was driving the middle car with Gilbert in the front passenger seat and I could tell he was mad at me. We were supposed to be a team and he had tried to be on my side.

  “I’m sorry I went against you earlier,” I said.

  He stared out the window, saying nothing.

  “It’s just…I don’t know…part of me doesn’t even want to see if my family is there. What if I went and found the greyskin versions of my parents and sister? That would be far worse than not finding them at all. And I’ve already given up hope, so why bring hope back?”

  “How very cynical of you,” he said.

  “Have you seen the world we live in, Gilbert? Wake up! There’s no point in chasing after dreams. All we can do is our best to survive.”

  “You’ve changed,” Gilbert said, still staring out the window. “You used to be upbeat. Hopeful. You had a spark. You wanted more than to just survive. You wanted to try and build a life.” He turned his head to look at me. “What about the waterfall? Our happy memory? Have you just given up hope?”

  I don’t answer him for a long time. It might have been two minutes before I finally whispered, “Yes.”

  He let out a sigh. “I was afraid of that. I’ve seen it on the others’ faces. They’ve all given up hope of finding a place to settle. Of building a life. I hadn’t seen it on your face until this morning. Until right now.”

  “Then I guess you’re next,” I said. I instantly wished I hadn’t said it. It was like poison dripping out of my mouth. Here Gilbert was trying to talk of hope for the future and the only response I could think of was to tell him that he will one day give up that hope. I felt ashamed.

  We didn’t say another word to each other until we stopped the cars a few hours later. All of us got out to stretch our legs and survey the area. We were on the outskirts of a small town that seemed empty, but likely wasn’t.

  “Where are we?” Gene asked, popping his neck from side-to-side.

  Jerome looked down at his map. “A little town called Ledbetter. The nearest bigger place is Sudyka. It’s about sixty miles away.”

  “Is that where we’re headed?” I asked.

  Jerome nodded. “I was thinking we could stop here and see if there’s a place to rest and get supplies. Maybe even gas.”

  “Looks empty,” Gilbert said, nodding toward the town.

  It did look empty, though each of us knew that it probably wasn’t. There was a main street that cut through the middle of the town and several side streets with rundown shops and restaurants. It looked much like all the other places we had been over the past two years, but there was always a chance of finding gems like full tanks of gas or storerooms filled with canned goods. One time, we even stumbled upon an underground bunker that had been built for an occasion such as the outbreak. We found the owner moving around in his house up above. He apparently never made it to the bunker because he was already a greyskin. After we killed him, we used his bunker for more than a month. It was the best month I could remember. It was safe and had plenty of supplies. But with five of us, the supplies ran out, and we were forced to move on. Every time we went on trips like these, we always hoped to find another underground bunker situation, but we had never found one since.

  Jerome handed each of us a small lighter and a pouch of smoke bombs, and everyone knew what it meant. It meant we were splitting up. The smoke bomb wasn’t a bomb at all. It was about the size of a cherry with a tiny string hanging out the side. When lit, it would silently let off a cloud of colorful smoke that would rise high into the air, sending the others in the group a specific message. And it was perfect because with no noise, greyskins were rarely attracted to it.

  I looked through the colorful pouch. A blue smoke bomb meant that one of us had found a lot of supplies and the rest of the group needed to help them. The green smoke bombs meant that there was an excellent place for shelter—maybe not quite as awesome as the bunker, but something worth staying in for a few days at least. (The green ones were hardly used.)

  The yellow ones told us that we needed to be cautious about the area. Usually it meant that there were greyskins nearby but they were avoidable.

  Red meant that help was needed—danger. If red smoke went up, that meant the others had to get there as fast as possible because someone was trapped or about to die. The only problem with this one was that sometimes a person didn’t have time to light a smoke bomb. But if that was the case, gunshots were enough of an indication.

  Then there was the last color code. None of us have ever used it before. We’ve never had to. But if there was a combination of red and yellow, it meant that someone was trapped, but there is no way to help. Get to the vehicle and leave.

  Go on without me. The thought sent chills up and down my spine.

  All-in-all it was a pretty good way of communicating and it had worked well for us in the past. The only flaw was that it was useless at night, but when I mentioned this to Jerome, he simply said that if we were dumb enough to split up at night, we would deserve to get eaten. That made perfect sense to me.

  We went through the town on foot. I had a knife strapped to my belt and a rifle slung over my shoulder. The others carried various sharp or blunt weapons, with guns as a secondary. My natural instinct was never to go to the knife first. I hated getting close to the greyskins, but I knew it was stupid to fire off a weapon when there could be more of the undead nearby. Guns were always a last resort.

  The town, Ledbetter, was almost too small for splitting the group, but it was just big enough that we wouldn’t be able to
search the entire town before day’s end if we stayed together. The buildings were dense and closed in, which I hated. The closer the buildings were together—the smaller the streets—the harder it was to see what was ahead. Every corner posed a threat. And greyskins rarely made any noise if they weren’t alerted to another presence, so walking up on one by accident was likely. The only way out of that was to strike before the greyskin could.

  We didn’t get far before Jerome turned around and ordered each of us to go in different directions and meet back at the vehicles before sunset.

  Jerome, Gene, and Amy all headed in their own directions. Before Gilbert could go, I reached for his hand. “I just wanted to make sure we’re good,” I said.

  He nodded. “We’re good.”

  “If I light the red and yellow, you’re going to ignore it right? You’ll come anyway?” I asked with a grin.

  He smiled back at me. “How will I know it’s yours?”

  “Because I’ll be the last one to the vehicle.”

  “If you’re lighting the red and the yellow, then it sounds like you don’t want me to come and save you.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Save me? Believe me, if I light the red and the yellow, you won’t want to try. I’ll be dead by the time you get there. But I fully expect you to try.”

  He let go of my hand and shook his head as he started to walk away. “Remi, if you throw up the red and yellow, I’m out of here.”

  I rolled my eyes at his joke as I started to walk away.

  Little did I know, he wasn’t joking. Not at all.

  Chapter 17 - Remi

  One Year Ago

  I didn’t find anything for several hours and the sun was setting quickly. I was glad, though. I was ready to leave the crummy little town. There had been no smoke in the sky, so that was good news and bad. Good because no one had been attacked. Bad because no one found supplies or shelter.