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Catharsis: Outbreak Z: Books 1-4

Page 13

by Roberts, EM


  Ella jerked awake in the darkened bedroom. Her heart was pounding, and she felt a sick taste in her mouth. She’d had the same dream over and over, except sometimes, the woman in the car had her mother’s face. She’d begun to wonder if the dead were the lucky ones. Was this whole thing God’s idea of a sick joke? She’d seen so much death and destruction in the past six months. Would it ever get any better? There were more undead creatures walking the earth than there were survivors. Everything that had been good in the world was gone. Every day was a testament in survival. There was nothing to live for--except death.

  She sighed and rolled on her back, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d never told anyone about the woman. It was her burden. And to think, a few months back, her worries were so trivial. Now, she worried about food, shelter, and medicine. She worried the people she loved would die. She wouldn’t let her father or any of the others see how distressed she really was. Their resources couldn’t last forever. Even if they continued to raise and breed the animals and put in a garden, people would get sick, need medicine, and eventually there would be no gas for cars or generators, and then what would they do? She tried to hide her concern from the others with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel.

  She wondered if Roe were still awake. It seemed like lately they hadn’t the opportunity to talk very much. If anyone could pull her out of this depressed state, it would be Roe. Ella smiled in the darkness. Maybe, she’d tell Roe about Dean. Roe had become her best friend over the last year. She remembered when they’d met at Black Eyed Pete’s. Ella had walked into the bar and spotted Roe’s wild, curly hair right away. She’d walked up to the bar, ordered a vodka and cranberry and glanced over at the woman.

  “Don’t say it. I know, ‘What’s a girl like me doing in a place like this?’” Roe had quipped, smiling at Ella.

  “Well, now that you mention it, you do class up the joint a bit, doesn’t she Pete?” Ella had replied, smiling at the other woman.

  The two had started talking and become fast friends. Roe was the only one who knew about Ella’s affair from her military days. Ella knew some of Roe’s secrets as well. The two of them had become like sisters. They laughed, talked, and cried. My sister from another mister, Roe liked to joke. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her buddy, Roe.

  Ella stood and grabbed her robe from the edge of the bed. Wrapping it snugly over her short nightgown, she opened the door and walked toward Roe’s bedroom at the end of the hall. She noticed the door was slightly ajar and took that as a sign Roe was still awake. She opened the door and stepped into the room.

  The glint of the knife was Ella’s first indication something was wrong. A man stood by Roe, one hand over her mouth, the other clutching a wicked looking knife. At her entrance, the man looked up and smiled. Leaning down, he slid the knife over Roe’s throat, drawing blood. He turned and started toward Ella.

  She ran through the door and down the hallway to her room. Once there, she grabbed the handgun from the nightstand and turned, but the man was already upon her. He pinned her to the floor and the gun went sailing under the bed, far from her reach. Ella kicked and bucked trying to dislodge the man from atop her body. Even though her attacker was of slight build, he was strong.

  His hand grabbed her throat and he squeezed. Ella tried to breathe, but he’d effectively cut off her airway. He was strong and adamant, she’d give him that. She clawed at his arms and hands drawing blood, but he refused to let go.

  “Ella, Ella, I thought you might be my new bride, but you had to go and ruin that didn’t you? I heard you and that bone head Dean fucking like animals out in the dark. I knew then you weren’t worthy at all,” Griff, the schoolteacher, muttered as he continued to choke her.

  Ella could feel her consciousness fading. So this was what it was like to die, she thought in wonder. My life isn’t flashing before my eyes, she mused in surprise as she continued to struggle weakly. She supposed it was better to die this way than being ripped apart by the infected. Just as she was about to succumb to the darkness, she heard a loud boom, felt wetness on her face, and suddenly she was able to draw air into her starved lungs.

  “Baby-- baby girl, you okay? Breathe, Ella dammit breathe,” she heard her father command as she continued to suck in great gulps of air. It was the first time she thought she’d ever heard him curse.

  “Fine...I’m fine,” she whispered in a gravelly voice as she sat up and looked at the body beside her. Taking in her father’s gun, she could only surmise he’d heard the struggle and come to investigate. Ella smiled and hugged him.

  Chapter 11: The Return

  Parker sat on the front porch using one foot to propel the porch swing back and forth. There was a slight breeze, and the farm seemed calm in the daylight. Last night had been one hell of a night. Of all of the things to worry about in an apocalypse--a serial killer. At least that had been taken care of before anyone else had died. He felt bad for the poor woman who’d been the man’s wife. They’d learned that much from Roe. Apparently Griff had told her a few things as he was passing judgment on her. Parker smiled. It would take more than a sliced throat to kill Roe.

  When he’d heard the shot, he’d jumped up and ran to the house only to find that all hell had broken loose. Roe lay in her bed, bleeding profusely from a neck wound. Ella was cradled in her father’s arms with severe bruising to her throat, and Griff, his roommate, lay on the bedroom floor, his brains and skull splattered against the wall.

  With the help of Ava, they’d closed the wound on Roe’s neck. Fortunately, it was just a flesh wound and hadn’t gone deep enough to cause permanent injury. She had Ella’s interruption to thank for that. Roe would probably have an ugly scar because Ava was no plastic surgeon, but at least the wound had been closed. Even now, Roe was up and about talking about the “psycho, crazy white man” who’d invaded her bedchamber. She’d sworn off men for the rest of her life, she vowed.

  The screen door opened, and Ella walked onto the porch. In the daylight, the bruising around her neck was bolder and uglier, but it could have been worse--so much worse. In such a short amount of time, he’d come to care for these people, deeply. He was surprised at that. He’d planned to spend this journey staying away from people, yet here he was.

  Ella was wearing her standard casual wear. An olive-green, vee-necked tee worn under a denim shirt was accompanied by jeans, but she’d mixed it up and was wearing an old pair of leather moccasins today. He supposed she was taking a break from work after her ordeal. Her hair was in wild disarray, and Parker thought she looked beautiful. She smiled and sat down on the front step.

  “Hello,” she whispered making him cringe at the pain in her voice.

  “Hello to you, too. I hope you’re feeling better,” he replied, thinking she looked a lot better than she sounded.

  She gave him a brief smile to indicate that she was feeling better and took another sip of the tea. She nodded her head toward the end of the driveway where he noticed Jackie making his way to the house. As Jackie got closer, both Parker and Ella noticed the stagger in his gait. Parker stood and walked to the edge of the porch where Ella was now standing. The two waited for Jackie to come closer.

  As soon as he was within hearing distance, Parker yelled, “Jackie, man, are you okay?”

  “Don’t feel good, dude. Head’s pounding and my vision ain’t so good,” the heavyset man complained as he got closer.

  Parker could see the sweat on Jackie’s forehead and upper lip and became nauseated at the sense of foreboding he felt. The bad feeling became even more pronounced once he could clearly see Jackie’s eyes. They were bloodshot. Headache, blurred vision, and bloodshot eyes. All signs of the infection.

  “Jackie, did one of the creatures bite you?” Parker asked urgently.

  ‘Naw, man, I woke up this way. Thought it was just a cold, but now--not so sure,” the man replied, stumbling on the first step.

  “Let’s get him into bed,” Ella whispered, grabbing the Jackie�
�s arm.

  She and Parker helped Jackie into the house and to a spare bedroom on the first floor opposite the room where the woman had been killed last night. After removing Jackie’s boots and jacket, Ella leaned down, felt his head and immediately frowned. He was burning hot. This was definitely no good.

  “Fever,” she said briskly. Parker wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. She left the room in search of medicine and supplies.

  Upon returning and forcing Jackie to take some pain medicine and placing a cool towel on his forehead, Ella sat in a chair by the man’s bed, her face a mask of concern and sadness.

  “It’s the infection,” she whispered not bothering to look at him, her attention focused solely on Jackie.

  “It seems like it, but I thought he was immune. It’s been six months,” Parker replied.

  “Yeah, but some people still turned when they were bitten even after surviving the initial outbreak so being immune the first time around doesn’t mean anything,” she replied sadly.

  “What about Roe? She was bitten and didn’t turn,” he questioned.

  “Maybe Roe really is immune. There have to be some of us who truly are,” she whispered, frowning from the pain speaking was causing her.

  “Maybe the virus has mutated,” he hypothesized. If the infection were caused by a virus, viruses could mutate, couldn’t they? The flu virus did it all the time.

  The sweating man on the bed started grunting and growling, his teeth snapping in their direction. He attempted to move from his place on the bed. The infection had spread in his body much faster than it had in the victims six months ago. This was a whole new ball game, Parker thought as he reached for his handgun. Looking over at Ella, he noticed that she had done the same.

  The End---Book One

  ,

  Catharsis: Choosing Sides

  Book Two

  Table of Contents

  Prologue: In the Army Now

  Chapter 1: The Great Conspiracy Theory

  Chapter 2: The Second Great Awakening

  Chapter 3: The Rock Star’s Final Tour

  Chapter 4: Happy Birthday, Mr. President

  Chapter 5: In the Army Now-Part Two

  Chapter 6: Catch and Release

  Chapter 7: The Girl Who Was Forgotten

  Chapter 8: Trial and Torture

  Chapter 9: The Great Escape

  Chapter 10: An Epiphany

  Chapter 11: All Good Things Must End

  Prologue: In the Army Now

  Heads exploded one after another. There were about fifty creatures in all. It was almost like they were guarding the entrance to the small town, but he knew they were waiting for weary travelers. Lt. General Ford Adams watched the two snipers beside him take out one after another of the creatures. They’d learned in the last nine months that bombing the infected was effective only if their heads were detached from their bodies. He’d seen the bastards blown in half and still crawling around the debris. The most effective and simple way of killing them was a bullet to the brain.

  “Sir, all the targets have been taken care of. Do you want me to set Molly down,” the pilot asked, referring to the AH-64 Apache helicopter with the female moniker.

  “Yes, that’ll be fine. I’ll radio the men and tell them our coordinates.” The town pretty much looked like all the others he’d been to. It’d been a long road these last nine months, but he now had a troop of about a hundred men and women all willing to die for their country. He was adding to the ranks every day. These soldiers were loyal and dedicated to eradicating the country of its pestilence. They knew there was safety in numbers.

  It’d taken him two months to reach the burned out city of Washington, D.C. Before the outbreaks, he’d been on leave and visiting his daughter in Salt Lake City. He’d taken care of her and her family as one by one they’d become infected. After that, the bombings had started and travel was impossible. When he’d finally determined it safe, he’d commandeered a helicopter from the local armory and had flown it as far as possible. From there, he’d fought his way into the Capitol city and down to the bunker where he’d found various government officials in states of decomposition.

  He’d discovered the First Lady and the daughter, but no President. He supposed the President could have made his way to the White House and been killed there, and he had no way of knowing this since the building lay in ruins. He, however, had a niggling little feeling that Parker was alive. At least, he hoped the man was alive. Not because he cared about the President but because he wanted information only Parker could access.

  Parker possessed something that could make Ford the most powerful man alive. This was his chance to run things—his chance to run a country the way it should be run. He didn’t care about finding Parker and restoring the government. The government was long dead. This country needed one person to take charge and run things—no democracy—no Senate or Congree. He was glad the government had been destroyed because it had become too powerful. All he cared about was finding the President and making him give up the information Ford needed. And, he would do it by any means necessary.

  He hadn’t gotten to where he was by being nice and playing it safe. He’d learned long ago the only way to get ahead in the political game was to use information. He’d been using information to blackmail others for a long time. It was his time now. He deserved to be the one who made the decisions. He would be that man.

  Chapter 1: The Great Conspiracy Theory

  Parker Wallace stood in the oval office and looked around. It was the same as it’d been when he was governor of Illinois and had met with President Edwards. He didn’t really care for the color scheme of beige and light blue, so that would definitely have to go. He supposed he would change the desk as well. After all, it was expected of him. The current desk was the Resolute, but he thought he might like the C&O. It’d been used by Ford, Carter, and Reagan, and if it was good enough for them, he imagined it would be good enough for him. Plus, Bill Clinton had used the Resolute, and he didn’t want to think about what may or may not have happened on that desk.

  A soft tap came from the door, and it slowly opened without invitation. Former President Thomas Edwards walked into the room, his gait stately and precise. He crossed over and held out his hand.

  “A little imposing isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir, that is… that it is,” Parker replied, giving the former leader a firm, strong handshake.

  “Well, don’t let it get to you. You don’t have that much power. The people think you do, but you don’t. You’re just a pawn in the government’s game of chess.”

  The last eight years had taken its toll on the former president. His face was deeply lined making him look older than his 67 years. The gray in his hair was more pronounced than it had been when he’d been sworn into office. There was also a lot less of it. He looked like a man who’d been through the ringer. Parker had never really cared for the man, but he owed him his respect and stood silently waiting for the purpose of the visit.

  “I know you’ve heard the conspiracy theories about Area 51, and how each President passes his torch of knowledge onto the next. Being the sensible man you are, I know you don’t believe that,” Thomas said as he walked over to the desk.

  “No, sir, I don’t really believe in whole Presidential secret thing. That movie drove people wild with their conspiracies and all.”

  “Well, you should believe it. Not that there are aliens, of course. Although, a certain President claimed he might have seen one. But, there truly are certain secrets handed down from one President to the next. I’m about to give you some information that only you will be allowed to know.”

  This was sounding intriguing. What could possibly be so secretive that only he was allowed to know it?

  Thomas bent down to the leg of the desk and pressed inward. A small door swung open. Parker looked on in amazement as the man retrieved a small envelope no bigger than four square inches. He straightened, walked to Parker, and h
anded him the envelope.

  “If anything ever happens that threatens to end humanity, you are to use the contents this envelope. We’re talking a nuclear war, an asteroid, or some kind of biological attack on a massive scale.”

  Parker looked down at the small envelope in his hand. How could something so important fit in something the size of a credit card?

  “These are coordinates for a safe facility. You know it as The Yucca Mountain Nuclear Waste Repository. Only you can access the survival facility which is located underground. It was built there because people rarely try to snoop around an area like that. The code is in that envelope, and you are to never breathe this to another living soul until you exit this office and hand it over to the next person fool enough to want it.”

  Thomas stood and walked briskly to the door never once looking back. Parker wondered if the man were pulling his leg, or if he were truly serious. And, if he were the only person to know the code, what would happen if he were assassinated or died in office, God forbid? Those and a thousand other questions flitted through his mind. Thomas was probably playing a prank anyway. It was common knowledge the two of them didn’t get along, and he wouldn’t put it past Thomas to try and pull one on him. He would put it out of head, he supposed. He would just hide the envelope in one of the nooks and crannies purported to be in the C&O desk and forget it. After all, what could possibly happen to threaten the existence of over 6 billion humans?

  Almost Three Years Later…

  Parker looked at the blood and gore spread out on the floor. It’d been a struggle, but he’d finally wrestled the gun from Secret Service Agent Joe Spielman’s holster. The last two survivors in the bunker, he and Spielman had thought they were immune to the disease. This morning, however, the agent had started to exhibit signs of the infection. Spielman had locked himself in the room beside Parker’s, but when the delirium hit, he’d let himself out, looking for food to assuage his growing hunger.

 

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