The Apocalypse Chronicles (Book 2): New World [Undead]

by DeLeon, Jon

  The last boat owner that Chester needed to turn into an uncaring person, in order to execute his plan, was one he could not reach. She had family fighting alongside Kira’s companion up north. Her loyalty to Kira ran deep. Chester took another long draw on his cigar. Fate, it seemed, had intervened on his behalf. News of the death of Mr. Perld and the survival of Joe were all that he needed.

  Chester Almont had turned the world against Kira. Tonight Kira would find out why.

  Chester stood and walked away, down the ship deck. See you soon, Kira.

  The sun had set about an hour ago. Chester munched on a bag of chips. From his surveillance position, he watched as Kira served dinner and read a story to the three small children. Jack and Elizabeth had fallen asleep during the story. Kira carried them to bed, followed by Christine. A few minutes later, Kira returned to the main deck to clean up. She really was a good mother. Chester thought back to the wife and young son he had lost to a car accident about a year ago. A sense of gratitude overcame him. He was thankful they hadn’t seen this zombie world. He was even more thankful they wouldn’t witness what he was about to do.

  Kira put away the last of the dishes from tonight’s dinner. The plate was part of a matching set and fit neatly in a hideaway drawer. This boat had been really well designed. She was wiping off the table when a knocking at the back door made her jump. It was late, and no one had come over in days.

  Outside the door was a man she had never seen before. He was about forty years of age, large, wearing a T-shirt and overalls. On his face was a smile, and he waved welcomingly. Kira returned his look with one of a puzzled demeanor. Who was this guy? She walked over and opened the door.

  “Hello. Can I help you?” Kira asked.

  “I certainly hope so.” Chester nodded his head in an appreciative manner. “I was actually hoping we could help each other out.”

  “Okay.” Kira was still very confused.

  Chester looked around at the other yachts. “Well it’s something that can’t be discussed in the view of prying eyes. Can I come in?”

  Kira thought for a moment. As she looked around, she spotted a set of blinds moving. She stepped backward, waving him inside.

  Chester smiled and walked in. His plan had worked perfectly. Kira had grown suspicious of her neighbors. Her paranoia gave him his opportunity.

  Kira closed the door behind them and pushed a button, closing all the blinds around the ship.

  “So what did you want to discuss, Mister . . .”

  “Almont, Chester Almont.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You as well, Kira,” Chester said with an excited tone.

  Kira instantly furled her brow and grew suspicious. “How do you know my name?”

  “Oh, I’m a fisherman, and I deal with Frannie. I’ve seen you talking to her a few times.” Chester didn’t really deal with Frannie. He actually resented her. She was what was called a “freshwater conch.” People born in Key West proudly called themselves “conchs,” while anyone who relocated to the area after seven years could be known as a “freshwater conch.” Frannie had set up shop in town years ago, and her success had bankrupted two stores that were owned by born “conchs.” But Chester was not against dropping her name in a ploy to gain some report with Kira. It worked. Kira shoulders eased, and her posture became less tense.

  “Oh, okay. Well then, you said we could help each other out, how?” Kira asked.

  “Well we are both fisherman, and it has not gone unnoticed that you seem to bring in a massive haul every day.”

  Kira sat down. “And?”

  “And you have a very small boat.”

  Kira looked around the Marquis quizzically.

  “A small fishing boat, I mean.” Chester laughed. “No, your home is quite nice.”

  “Thanks. As for the fishing boat, it suits me fine.”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t hold much of a catch. What I want to do is offer you an opportunity, one that you really can’t say no to. I have a larger fishing boat with a much larger hold. You clearly have some sort of knowledge about where the fish are. So what I’m suggesting is that we team up. My boat, your fishing spots, together we can make a lot of money.”

  Kira thought for a moment. A larger source of income made sense. But something did not. Her intuition, or gut feeling, was saying no. She thought back to the last fishing team she had been a part of. How she had killed the man and taken his notebook. Did this man have the same plan? Was he really after the book? Would he kill her and take it? “I’ll have to think about it.” Kira stood and started walking to the door.

  Chester reached out and grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

  Kira tried to pull free of the man’s grasp but could not. “Let go of my arm.”

  Chester let go. “Sorry. Please. I need this. I’ve been having struggles. If I don’t get a big catch soon, I’m going to have real problems.”

  “I think you should go.”

  “I can’t. I need to catch fish. Look, I’m not catching enough. I’m barely getting enough fuel these days to run my big boat. You don’t use much fuel, but my boat does. You have to help me.”

  “I said you need to go.” Kira reached to open the back door.

  Chester slammed his hand into the glass. He spoke through clenched jaws. “You’re making this very difficult for me. I need this help.”

  “Get out of my house,” Kira said with fierce determination.

  “You’re seriously not going to team up with me?”

  “I’m not going fishing with you. We are not a team.”

  Chester grabbed her arm and pulled her close. He held hard, attempting to intimidate her. “Then give me the notebook.”

  “I knew it! That’s all you wanted me for! Well you aren’t getting it!” Kira said, determined and full of fury. Kira ripped her arm from Chester’s grasp.

  Chester slapped her hard across the face, sending Kira to the ground and stars into her eyes.

  “Why do you need to make this so hard? Just give me the notebook and I’ll be off. It’s as simple as that,” Chester said.

  “Never.” Kira scowled at Chester.

  “See now, little lady, you’re starting to make me angry. Give me the book and no one gets hurt.”

  “I won’t give you anything! You piece of shit!”

  Chester grabbed her off the ground, swinging her and throwing her hard onto the couch.

  Kira let out a gasp as she slammed into the couch. Her eyes and nostrils flared as an angry, wild feeling started to overtake her. She was not backing down.

  Chester noticed. “Tough one, are you? I wonder how thick your skin is if we were to involve the little ones.” He pointed down the stairs.

  Kira’s eyes grew wide as shock surged through her body.

  “Now you get it. So where is the notebook?”

  She was frozen with some emotion she hadn’t ever felt before. It was a need to protect, unconcerned for her own life all of a sudden.

  “Fine. I’ll wake the little ones up.” Chester took one step toward the stairs.

  Kira reacted. No one was going anywhere near her kids. She let out a scream as she jumped up from the ground and onto Chester’s back. Kira was a wild animal, biting and scratching at any exposed skin she could find. Chester threw her off and grabbed at his bloody ear. His face was a series of bloody lines from Kira’s fingernails.

  Kira was now standing between Chester and the stairs going down to the bottom deck of the boat. Chester winced in pain as he touched his ear again. “You bitch!”

  “Stay away from my kids!”

  Chester began breathing faster, his sea-strong chest heaving as his face turned red with wrathful anger.

  Kira attacked. She flung her whole mass at Chester. This time, she didn’t have the benefit of surprise.

  Chester caught her in his big hands and threw her down on the couch. He was on top of her, holding her arms down in a flash. “Where is it?!”

  Kira responded wit
h a well-placed spit in Chester’s eyes.

  Chester’s face turned red as blood vessels popped, and any string of tenuous restraint snapped. He moved his hands from her arms up to her throat. He began squeezing with all his might. Kira felt the life being pushed from her. She felt blood rush to her eyes, and her vision began to blur. Stars and blackness mixed in the corners of Kira’s eyes.

  “I can find it even if you’re dead. I know it’s here somewhere.”

  As her life drained away, she didn’t see a flashback of her life.

  All she saw was Joe.

  The Russian Wilderness:

  Outbreak Day +66

  Kurt woke and sat up straight with a massive amount of effort. He wiped the frost off his clothes and blinked the frozen sleep from his eyes. The icy cold of the Russian night had done everything it could to drain the last bit of warmth from Kurt as he slept. He cracked a crick out of his neck and absentmindedly stared at the hay-covered plywood floor.

  The hunting blind had been a lifesaver when he found it last night. He needed shelter, somewhere his body heat would stay trapped. After climbing in, he had grabbed what pine branches he could to close up the door and other openings. Combined with some mud, that had been just enough to hold back the freezing night. Kurt stared at a beetle crawling across the ground. His body may be awake, but mentally he was still asleep. He had just had a great, and strange, dream.

  He was trail running with his brother in South Florida. He could feel the heat on his shoulders and sweat pouring from his body as he raced Joe to the parking lot. It was heaven. Then at the end, Joe had been pulled from the dream, taken down a black hole, and disappeared. Panic had taken over Kurt as he tried to follow Joe. Before he could, his entire body froze. He could hardly move. Kurt looked down and saw himself trapped in an ice block. With all his mental strength, he fought the freeze as it enveloped his eyes. There was a moment where he almost gave up trying to open his eyelids again. The ice had too tight a hold, but he didn’t. He kept fighting and eventually woke up in the hunting blind.

  What did this all mean?

  Was Joe gone? Had he lost him? He refused to accept it. He must be alive. It was that thought that had given him the strength to keep fighting as he froze. It was the belief his brother was alive that allowed him to wake up. Kurt clenched his hands into fists and released them. They were a purplish blue color. After about a minute, the color began to return. The whole time, Kurt thought, wow, I almost died last night. I need to find better shelter and a fire soon or it won’t matter.

  After a few more minutes of some light exercises to force his blood to flow, Kurt pushed the branches aside. It was still early morning. The sun fought against the frosty dew of the end of winter, trying to hold onto its chill. It looked like the air itself was only a degree away from freezing solid. He climbed out of the blind and onto the forest floor. His feet crunched through the frozen mud that had turned into icy tundra overnight. He persevered through the trees. Even as the ground turned back to mud after a few hours and his progress slowed, as Kurt had to constantly pull his foot out of deep mud, he kept pushing. Kurt was determined to get out of this muck and find some sort of civilization by nightfall.

  The sun was getting close to setting as Kurt crouched by the edge of the tree line. He watched as his breath formed small spouts of smoky air. The temperature was already beginning to drop. Kurt had been hoofing it through the dense trees all day. His throat was parched, and his stomach was grumbling. He needed food, water and shelter, and he was staring at all three.

  Kurt was looking out across an open field at a Russian military installation. It appeared to be a smaller base with only a few concrete buildings, several bunkers and a very large satellite dish. The outside of the base was lined with chain-link fences and barbed wire. Outside the fence was open ground with one sign. Kurt couldn’t read Russian, but he knew what it stood for: a skull and crossbones in white paint emblazoned on a red sign, with Russian letters and an explosion graphic below it. Kurt’s eyes followed the fence line until he spotted a gate. From the gate, a road led into the woods to his left. Kurt skirted until he reached the road. It was a rather thin two-lane road. Kurt had doubts. He could see obvious signs of zombie attacks. There were blood trails, spent ammunition and body parts lying around.

  Kurt sat thinking about what to do next and saw a light appear in the window of the small, square building next to the satellite dish. He couldn’t see anyone inside, but it looked like a glinting fire. The light was definitely flickering. Kurt felt his heart skip a beat. Someone could be alive. He had to risk it.

  Kurt slowly worked his way through the damaged gate and up the long street into the compound. He crept along the side of buildings and through shadows of the fading light until he was next to his target building. He risked peering into the window. He couldn’t see anyone inside, but he could see the fire. It was clearly a man-made fire. A small teepee of sticks burned and gave off white smoke, which pooled around the ceiling. The smell of burning pine filled Kurt’s nose. Another pile of wood sat close to the blaze, waiting its turn in the fire. The small crackle of the fire could be heard. It made Kurt deaf to his surroundings.

  Behind him, Kurt heard a gun cock. A cold shiver ran up his spine. The barrel of a pistol was pressed to the back of his neck. That shiver now spread throughout his body.

  Kurt swallowed hard and forced out a weak plea. “Don’t shoot. I . . . I don’t mean any harm. I just saw the fire and—”

  “Kurt?”

  Kurt slowly turned his head around as the gun was pulled from his neck. Behind him, a young man stood holding a handgun. It was Tyler.

  Kurt felt his shoulders relax. He grabbed Tyler in a strong hug. He looked at the face of his friend.

  “Tyler! You made it! I thought you were a goner.”

  “Not yet.” Tyler laughed.

  “That’s great! Where’s Liz? Is she here too?” Kurt asked, looking over Tyler’s shoulder.

  “No. She . . . well she didn’t . . .”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Well this is a messed-up world, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well you better come inside. It’s gonna get cold soon.”

  Kurt looked around at the ghost town of the compound. “Is it safe here?”

  “I stayed here last night, and I’m still alive. So yeah, maybe. Come on, follow me.”

  Tyler led Kurt around the corner to where a steel door lay open. They stepped through, and Tyler secured a large deadbolt. Inside, a wall of warmth hit Kurt in the face. The small fire’s heat was trapped in the room nearly perfectly. The smell reminded Kurt of the last time he had gone camping. Around the room were scattered canteens and meal rations. The back wall was a giant circuit-board computer connected to the satellite. Its switches and dials all glowed red in the dark space.

  Tyler walked past Kurt and put one of the extra pieces of wood onto the fire. “Welcome to my new home. It’s warm, not super comfy, and the only thing to sleep on are some mats I pulled over from the barracks. But it is secure. The door locks from inside with a big metal lever and is the only way in or out. The only catch is, I have to vent smoke after a few hours or we’ll get choked to death. I had to keep opening it last night, and every time I did, I was afraid the light would attract some unwanted attention. But I haven’t seen any yet.”

  “It’s nice. Way better than where I stayed last night. Does this place still have power?”

  “It does now. Today after waking up, I scavenged the camp. Found the food and water first, and then found the camp’s generators. Luckily enough, they had been shut down with fuel remaining. So I just started them back up. Then I came back and found you.”

  “What is this place?”

  “Well from what I saw today, I would have to guess a missile base.”

  “A what?”

  “Yeah, I know, right? Not too long ago, this place was probably aiming at DC. Now it’s just nothing but some buildings. The underground sil
os are to the east.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, on the bright side, I think that with this dish and the broken sat phone, I may be able to make a phone call home.” Tyler held up the satellite phone, smiling. It had wires hanging from where the antenna used to be.

  “Really?” Kurt’s eyes grew wide with hope. He knew Joe never went anywhere without his satellite phone. If he was alive, Joe was only a phone call away.

  “Yeah.” Tyler bobbed his head up and down, and smiled. “No promises though. Remember, the main issue was that the antenna was fried. Well this building is connected to that massive satellite dish. Damn good antenna. If I can figure out what wires go where, I might be able to connect the phone to it. It’s not going to be easy with everything in Russian, but I have hopes.”

  “Well that would be nice,” Kurt said.

  “No joke, right! Figure out if anyone else is still alive out there,” Tyler said.

  Kurt looked lustfully at the canteen pile. “Can I grab some water?”

  “Of course. Are you hungry?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Here.” Tyler grabbed a meal box and threw it to Kurt. “They taste terrible, but they’ll keep your stomach from eating through your skin.”

  Kurt dug into his prepackaged meal, taking sips of water, as Tyler went to work on rewiring the input into the satellite dish. After a few hours, both men turned in for the night.

  The Russian Military Outpost: Outbreak Day +67

  The early morning light was beaming through the bulletproof glass windows as Kurt rolled up to a seated position. The last coals of the fire were dying. Tyler was deep into his wiring job. He heard Kurt stretching his body awake.

  “How did you sleep?”

  Kurt had slept better than he had in some time. “Amazing. It’s a lot easier to sleep well when you aren’t frozen.”

  Tyler laughed. “I’m sure that’s true.”

  Kurt looked at his watch. 05:00. “How long have you been awake?”

  Tyler responded, “This time? About an hour.”

  “This time?”