Unrelenting Tide: A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Adventure (Children of the Elements Book 4)

by Alexa Dare

  “Who’s we?” Within the nest of his bushy beard, Merv’s mouth drew down at the corners. “What vessel?”

  “Many dwell within this one form. Doc, Yates, and Roderick. Even the one who owned the body before, though he’s kept contained by us three.”

  “You’re trying to tell me,” said Merv, hugging the little brats closer to his chest, “that one body contains four of you.”

  “There’s not much left of the guy who occupied our hull.” Yates shrugged his broad manly shoulders. “Not a real strong personality.”

  “You folks are crazier than I thought. If I’d known, you’d never have gotten your hands on my nephews.”

  “Cantrell served us well, while Brody has been quite the problem.”

  With a wiggle of her molars, Nora eased the clench of her teeth. “Quiet. Both of you. I’m attempting to explain to my son. Vincent, it’s okay. I know it’s confusing, but this man’s body contains your father’s essence.”

  Vincent continued to stare at nothing his gaze fixed somewhere beyond Nora’s left shoulder.

  “What have you done to him?” she asked.

  “Nothing at all.” Hannah shook her head and back-crawled off the door. “You can’t say the same, can you?”

  Yates’ man grabbed the thirteen-year-old, clamping his hand over her mouth until her body slumped.

  “Hannah,” yelled Darcy Lynn, smacking the arms of the redheaded woman holding her back.

  Nora swayed stiffly in place. “My poor son. Bring him to me.”

  A woman stepped out of the shadows. The Siren held the wind-playing brat’s hand and slipped her other arm around Vincent’s waist.

  “Listen, Iona, you send him out, or I send the zombies in.” Nora detested the woman’s long red flyaway tendrils. Couldn’t stand to look at the too-perfect sheen of her smooth fairness. “It’s been a while since they fed. Your choice.”

  “Irene. Her name’s Irene,” Darcy Lynn said. “Not that you care.”

  “Dang, pretty rad, Yates.” Merv, carrying the little ones, shuffled behind Vincent, prodding Irene to bring the teenager forward. “My hat’s off to you. And Doc, of course.”

  “Merv, you old dog.” Yates yanked Peyton over to one side of his body.

  Her upper body jerking, the girl dropped to her knees.

  Yates gripped her and pinned her arms with one arm and fisted her hair. “Merv, come say hello to the new and improved me.” Yates forced the teen upright. “How’d you drill a hole in the steel?”

  “Acid-spewing fireflies,” Merv said.

  “You don’t say? .” Yates turned his face aside and lowered his voice. “Hard to tell over the decay, but what’s that? Some sort of sweet pickle stink?”

  “The militia taught me to use whatever’s on hand.”

  “Darn straight.” Yates chuckled.

  “You’ve found the ones you were seeking?” The dead librarian sloshed toward Nora over the sopping mildewed carpet. “Why do they pretend we undead are not here? Quite insulting.”

  “Thanks to your ability, “Nora said, “to sniff them out.”

  “Your sense of scenting the live ones gets better as you, er, age.” The old woman’s droopy lids hung halfway over her eyeballs as if she were stuck in mid-blink. “We simply keyed on the traces left in the old military tank.”

  “And the others?” asked Nora.

  “At last report, they were headed this way.” The area under the librarian’s neck wiggled like a wild turkey waddle.

  “Let’s get everyone to a more secure area. We have more guests that will be arriving soon.” Nora lifted the outer corners of her lips. The tautness there… She willed her outer mouth to go lax and dared not smile. “Hannah, you’ll be happy to be reunited with your brother.”

  “You leave my brother and the rest of them be.”

  “While I do enjoy your spunk, your ongoing need for conflict is grating. I can’t do that, no more than I can leave you to your own devices. You are much too valuable and your skills are in great demand.”

  While Yates intended to take over the world, Nora planned to get her life back. “Yates, if you are finished shaking hands like it’s old-home week, you can send a lookout up to the crow’s nest on top of the building to keep an eye on the weather. Also, we need to track the length of the cycles between power surges.”

  With the room emptied, Nora and Yates assessed the contents of the shelves.

  Yates grunted his approval.

  “Rations and supplies for the living.” Nora had no control of the drool sliding slippery between her lips. “I suggest you take a zombie party out for our kind of food, since you are well aware of our need to feed. More lamb might be in order.”

  The big, bearded man and the new Yates shoulder punched and backslapped each other.

  “Good to have you back, Merv.”

  “Pal, glad you’re still around.”

  Geez, the good old boys’ club meeting wasn’t over. Nora’s outer lips twitched, but she lined her lips straight and still. No frowning or smiling meant no flesh cracks or lost teeth.

  She glanced at the librarian.

  The old bat didn’t have the same concern for her own visage. A sappy smile shaped her outer mouth corners as the dead old maid stared gaga-eyed at Yates.

  “You’ll see to the search crew?” Nora asked.

  “We shall get our own new form soon.” The librarian and Nora hung back as the prisoners were taken toward the upper level.

  “Yates claims,” Nora hedged, “we could die in mid-transfer.”

  “We’ll ensure that doesn’t happen.” The fellow zombie leaned in, her reeking breath not near as appalling as it should have been. “Tell me, you know Yates well, what is his currency?”

  “Getting his way.” Nora tilted her head to the side, missing her earlobe greatly.

  “Then we will ensure he does.” The lady’s chuckle rasped burger meat ultra-rotten. “Until not getting what he wants, benefits us.”

  “For a librarian, you are quite devious.”

  “Oh, even for my age, I have vim and vigor. You know you should really branch out from eating lamb. There are other food sources that taste like chicken.” The librarian led the way down the hallway. Clumps of frizzed white hair drifted off the woman’s head. Like dust bunnies, the tufts stuck to the drenched blue carpet.

  The side of Nora’s dragging injured foot caught as she reached the dry area of the carpet.

  She stumbled but regained her step.

  Halting, she pulled the shoestring and released the bow of the plodding military boot. Her shoulder and elbow propped, ever so gently, against the wall, she slipped the sock-covered foot out of the confines of the high-topped shoe.

  Odd how the tan cotton sock toe flopped.

  Nora tugged off the sock by the toe seam.

  The bluish gray dead flesh of her foot canted outward. Her middle toe, the next, and the little toe no longer remained part of her foot.

  With the sock, cuff side down, she shook three marble-sized oblong shapes out. The blackish nubs fell and bounced over the carpet.

  “Nora, are you coming along?” the librarian called over her shoulder.

  “Yes, of course.” Nora replaced her sock and put her boot back on. Laces flopping, she nudged the discarded toes aside with the outer edge of the boot. With a sense of loss that sank much deeper than grief for dead appendages, she limped along behind.

  Chapter 26

  Herded through too many dark tunnels, where the soil-filled dampness hung like popcorn aroma at a movie theater snack counter, Brody and the frightened band of kids crowded before a set of concrete stairs leading upward through the shadows to a metal door.

  It had to be past sunrise, in a day where clouds forever shrouded.

  Tightness crimped under his ribs.

  In the white glow of lighted water bottles, Brody clutched a lidded kettle as if his life depended on it and stood at the bottom of the stairs and glanced back over his shoulder.


  Confused, he struggled to hold on to his thoughts as they rushed away like fallen leaves carried on the current of a mountain stream.

  One thing he knew was that the door at the top of the stairs wasn’t locked and some bad stuff waited on the opposite side.

  The passage narrowed to only a couple of yards wide. Concrete braced the ceilings and walls and floor and amped the echo of shuffling footsteps from behind.

  Liquid growls echoed, coming closer.

  At the noise, the group as a whole edged closer to him, pinning him in, brushing against him, sharing their warmth, as if both to protect him and to seek comfort.

  The oncoming, rotten stench worsened.

  A shiver brushed the nape of his neck.

  Little ones pressed against and clung to his legs, while those a bit older gripped his elbows and arms as if they never intended to let him go.

  Brody grasped the metal pot even more tightly.

  In the dim corridor under the ground, he wagged his head to sweep the cobwebs from his mind.

  Why was thinking like swimming through a vat of maple syrup?

  “Brody, what now?” The boy, dark-haired and maybe in his young teens, knew Brody’s name. Sure, that made sense, since there were lots of children and only one of him.

  When he could think right, he’d surely recall their names, but right now, the big question: Why were they there?

  The thirteen-year-old kid aimed his face in Brody’s direction, yet his sightless eyes never settled on Brody’s face.

  For some reason, the teenager couldn’t see.

  Brody blinked. Stared.

  Of course, his name was Abe, and he’d lost his vision. Onset of likely temporary blindness from…

  From what?

  Dang…

  Words, like fish under the surface of the lake where he’d first watched Darcy Lynn play with the wind, swam out of Brody’s reach.

  Okay, so the memory of the mess they were in was in his noggin. What the heck was the matter with Brody’s recall? There was a lot more that he should remember. But couldn’t.

  “Why do you think they brought us here?” asked Abe.

  “Huh?”

  “The zombies made us go in this direction, right?”

  “Right. Of course.” Like an unwanted and dreaded one-hundred-year flood, the recall of what happened soaked back into Brody’s brain. He swayed on his feet, but little hands held him upright. “Zombies. Regular ones and smart ones. Heaven help me, I remember.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Tonya, holding the pink blanket-wrapped baby, stepped onto the staircase’s first step. “You act like you’re having a major brain fart.”

  “I guess I kinda did.” He gulped. “I lost my thinking ability for the most part and even some of my memories.” A shudder rode his spine. “Some things would be best left forgotten.”

  Abe patted his shoulder. “They’re only a few yards behind us now. We don’t have our powers. Our only choice is that door.”

  “What do you think’s up there?” Tonya hugged the baby.

  “Can’t be good,” said Junior.

  The puppy wriggled out of one of the kid’s arms. It ran back and forth and barked down the tunnel.

  “Hem them in,” a muffled echoing voice rasped.

  “Smells like very fresh meat,” another zombie said.

  “Brain eaters are the worst, but when they talk… Ugh.” Tonya frowned in the eerie light.

  Junior widened his stance. His stained toes curled against concrete. No doubt, the ten-year-old sought to join with the ground. “I can’t work the earth, so we can’t block them from getting to us. We got no choice.”

  Yip. Yip. The puppy’s front legs bounced off the ground with each high-pitched yip.

  Groups of zombies lumbered into the range of their bottle light. Dead, but their faces and gazes held clever malice.

  “Tender vittles .” A man, skull caved in, chomped his teeth.

  Arms spread-out, a woman, with her entrails trailing like greasy sausage links, hissed, “Fresh meat.”

  In no time, a dozen or more zombies, teemed against one another in the narrow passage. Some with bones jutting where arms were missing. All streaked with blackish gore and dirt from the tunnel walls.

  The kids’ shrill shrieks rang out.

  The puppy, maybe part yellow lab, ran to nip the dead one’s ankles.

  “No,” yelled Brody.

  “Puppy,” the girl who said the dog followed her from her family’s farm.

  The foremost zombies dove for the brave little dog.

  First the girl, then the other kids screamed.

  While the smaller children clung to Brody, the rest barreled up the steps.

  The puppy yipped and dashed into the tunnels. Shuffles chased after him. Hopefully, the little guy would escape.

  One of the taller boys yanked on the pull-down latch. In grasping, frantic grabs, the group swung open the door and bolted into the unknown.

  A beam of light shined directly into their eyes.

  Brody clenched his eyelids shut and turned from the blinding bright.

  “Welcome.” A woman’s gurgling, raspy voice said. “We have been awaiting your arrival.”

  The kids that tried to enter what might be a building basement shrilled muffled screams. The little ones clasped Brody’s legs in pinching grabs. Their bawling drowned out growling from close behind.

  Squinting into the light, Brody winced.

  A dead woman stood, lax skin gray and tinged blue, in the doorway. Her face stretched out long-ways like the flesh sloughed from her skull. Most of her hair was gone, with a few frizzed clumps left.

  Her.

  With the jolt of shock at seeing the scientist in zombie form, the last of Brody’s brain fog swept away.

  If only he could look away, regain his former state of turmoil, and wander the maze of tunnels for the span of his short life.

  A shudder of fear jarred through him, and the stew pot lid clanked.

  Oh, right, the giant mutated black widow spider was trapped inside. Heart ramped, he wrapped his arm around the pot, and held the lid down tight with the press of his elbow.

  Even the spider didn’t creep him out as much as Nora.

  With part of one ear missing, she studied them without blinking.

  Then, as if the dead lady couldn’t help herself, her mouth opened and spread into a wide, toothy, garish smile. “Welcome home.”

  ***

  Forced to sit in the middle section on the first three rows of the theater part of the Rocky Top Observatory, Brody cringed, shoulder hunched, in the second row from the front.

  He, along with their not-so-merry band, was locked in.

  At least. he didn’t have the spider in the kettle to worry about. The guards had taken the pot from him.

  Potluck surprise indeed for Yates and Nora’s men.

  At present, the zombies, locals, militia, and what was left of Nora remained outside the sets of double doors on each side of the sound and lighting room at the rear of the huge auditorium.

  Finally, as the slam of the doors echoed, Brody headed out toward the aisle, tripping over children’s feet. Relieved that the musty, mildew of the blue carpet beat dead reek by a long shot, he stumbled over a first-row seatback.

  “Merv. Irene. Darcy Lynn. You guys are okay, and I recalled your names. There’s Hannah and Vincent too. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get my memory and my thoughts in order ever again. But we’re safe. I know who you are, although I wish I didn’t know why we’re here. Maybe knowing all kinds of stuff isn’t the best, but I’d rather know, wouldn’t you? Otherwise, the unknown can sneak up on you and bite you in the behind.”

  “Whoa, son.” Merv, his cheeks flushed bright pink and sweat beading on his face, chuckled. “Take a breath or two now and then.”

  Brody felt Merv’s clammy forehead, inhaled the cinnamon of the crumbles caught in his beard. “No fever, but you’re sick.”

  “Can’t seem t
o get myself stable. My need for food seems to have revved into overtime. This big daddy physique is wasting away, no matter how much I eat.”

  “Brody.” Darcy Lynn ran from the end of the first row. She jumped into Brody’s arms, clamped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist. “I knew you would come. I told them you’d fix things right up.”

  “I missed you, little bug.”

  “Don’t call me bug.” Darcy Lynn gave a delicate shudder in his arms.

  Hannah stood and made her way down toward them. “We had to fight off acid-making lightning bugs.”

  “We found crazy worms, fire-starting roaches, and black widow spiders the size of my two hands,” Junior hooked his thumbs and wiggled his eight fingers.

  “Eww. Spiders.” Darcy Lynn squirmed to get down.

  Setting her on her feet, Brody grinned as she threw herself so hard at Junior that she knocked him off balance and bounced off herself.

  “Okay, we’re all locked in here.” Brody asked, “So, what’s Nora up to?”

  “She was bad before, but now she stinks like a dead snake hung in a tree to make it rain.” Junior held on to a side stage railing and patted Darcy Lynn’s head.

  “I like your new haircut,” Abe hugged his twin. He knuckled her scalp with quick scrubs. “You look older, but only a tad wiser.”

  She smacked his hand away. “Look, don’t touch.”

  “Ah,” Abe said, “the Ice Princess reigns and rains.”

  “Whoa, if a glare could freeze a guy in place.” Brody welcomed the light inhale in his chest and the ease of his heart. Heck, he might not ever stop smiling. “Your brother would be stored in a freezer next to the vanilla ice cream.”

  “At least one of us has done some growing up.” Hannah flounced off to climb the stairs toward the back of the theater. Up top, she turned her back to the group.

  “The grand pout. You scored. But take my word for it, at some point, she’ll make you pay.” Abe’s eyes held happy glints as he hugged Irene. “Hannah doesn’t look so much like a kid anymore, does she?”

  From her seat beside Merv, Irene shook her head and smiled a closed-mouthed cautious smile.

  “Nope, she doesn’t.” Brody shoulder bumped the thirteen-year-old when he stood upright. “Glad you got your eyesight back.”