Affliction Z Series Books 1-3

by L. T. Ryan

  Closer.

  Surrounding him.

  Boxing him in.

  He had moments before the strongest of the afflicted reached him.

  Sean only had so much ammunition. Not enough to take out the horde he’d seen outside the clinic. Even if he did, they would overwhelm him.

  The thick bushes scratched his skin and dug into open wounds. Sean clawed through, ignoring the assault on his ravaged body. The pain held little power. He’d numbed himself to it.

  And when he found the ATV sitting where he’d left it, all he felt was hope.

  He fished the key from his pocket, and started the vehicle. The GPS slid onto its mount. The battery indicator flashed as it accepted the charge. Sean fumbled through the menu and reset his waypoint to the camp where Emma and the others waited.

  Alone.

  He hoped.

  Eighteen

  The tangle of branches, brush and vines strangled the ATV. Sean cursed at every obstacle, but pushed forward, navigating around when he could, and over when he couldn’t. He’d anticipated the difficult journey. With unknown assailants around, traveling on the road was not an option. But he neared the point where he would rather take his chances with them. The woods bogged his progress. The afflicted surely had gained on him. In limited encounters, they seemed an entirely different species when shielded by a canopy. They acted more aggressive and less reliant on numbers.

  Hearing their shrieks draw nearer, Sean navigated up the steep embankment onto the blacktop.

  He scanned the road. Saw it to be empty aside from a random parked car toward town, and a two-car accident to the west, but a bend in the road prevented him from seeing past that. He was tempted to cut the engine and listen for a few beats.

  Fear of those trailing him, and the desire to get back to his daughter pushed him forward.

  A few minutes later, he veered off road to eek past a nasty pile up. Mangled bodies in various stages of decomposition were trapped inside crumpled steel coffins. A slim blood-stained arm, possibly belonging to a child, poked out from an open window.

  Sean pulled back on the road. Something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He’d nearly missed the three afflicted. They stood fifty feet away from the crash, close to the trees. Their gazes were fixed elsewhere. Upward. Same as the afflicted he’d seen outside the clinic.

  The hell are they looking at?

  They paid Sean no attention. It was as though they didn’t register the sound of the ATV. Why? The beings he’d encountered eight years earlier were highly aware. Since the outbreak, Sean had assumed the government continued development of the virus after his initial encounter with it.

  Or had they?

  Maybe officials bowed out after Nigeria. The powers that be could have assumed the bombings alongside the information extracted from Turk and Sean had been enough to conclude that the virus had been wiped out. If the government had made such an error, then the only other answer was mutation. The virus lived on and slowly percolated throughout the sparsely populated areas of wild Africa, all the while morphing. It took years to achieve critical mass. But once it happened, well, all Sean had to do was look around to understand how that scenario played out.

  Sean cursed himself for dwelling on what ifs. It drained him mentally, which made it harder to push forward physically. He faced a losing battle. One that could eventually claim his life and those he swore to protect.

  One was already close to expiring.

  Clear your mind. Focus on the objective.

  Sean passed the afflicted and continued until he neared the overgrown dirt road that led to the camp where he ditched asphalt for the woods.

  He took his time navigating through the woods, easing around trees and rolling over branches and small bushes, until he reached the path. He eased into the two grass-covered ruts in the earth. The ATV dipped and pitched and bounced. His prosthetic banged against the side. While the engine didn’t appear to draw the afflicted in, he had seen the way his titanium leg slapping against the steel filing cabinet sound caught their attention.

  Could they detect the sound above the whine of the engine?

  He cut the ignition a few hundred yards away from the camp. No sense in giving away his exact position. He shifted into neutral, hopped out, and pushed the rest of the way.

  Tired, thirsty, exhausted, and hurting, Sean dug in and maneuvered the ATV up to the side of the concrete structure where Emma and the others waited.

  His lips tightened as a smile crossed his face. The first since he’d last seen his daughter. But it faded as he turned the corner and saw the door standing open. Positioned so that it prevented him from seeing the entrance to the structure.

  Sean fought his instincts and resisted the urge to rush forward. Instead, he dropped back, grabbed his M4 and slid it off his shoulder, pulled it around to the front. He dropped to his knee and listened.

  The tops of trees bent and leaves rustled against each other as the wind blew through. He noted that the breeze had picked up in the time since he’d left the clinic. A thunderstorm approaching, he figured.

  Whether the gusts drowned out other sounds, Sean didn’t know. But he heard nothing else.

  He scanned the clearing, sweeping left to right, then back again. A slower second pass allowed him time to linger and look deeper into the woods. No shapes or figures stood out amid the bushes and tall trees.

  Rising, the world spun and Sean leaned into the building with his shoulder to combat the lightheaded feeling. His heart pounded against his chest. It grew increasingly difficult to draw in a breath.

  No panic. Not now. Get it together, man. You’re no good to anyone otherwise.

  He knew better than to fight the feelings. That was the difference between those that allowed panic to cripple them, and those who conquered despite it. He pulled in as deep a breath as he could, expanding his clenched abdomen. Then, against instinct, he welcomed the sensations and gave himself permission to feel them for another fifteen seconds. And as he did so, the panic passed.

  Renewed, Sean rounded the corner and approached the open door, which hadn’t budged despite the heavy winds.

  “Emma,” he said in voice a few decibels above a whisper.

  No response.

  He called out again, this time louder.

  Still no response.

  He cursed under his breath and pushed forward, stopping behind the heavy door and scanning the clearing again. He counted down from three, then burst around the door and stepped into the building.

  “Emma? Addie?” His voice echoed throughout the chamber, but none of the women responded.

  The structure had showers on one side and bathroom stalls on the other. A wall divided the two down the middle. On either side of the wall were six or seven sinks. Sean veered to the right and checked each stall. All were empty. He continued around the divider. In the first shower stall, he found Barbara, lying on the floor, her head elevated on a branch. Blood pooled on the floor around her torso.

  “Barbara,” Sean said. He waited a few moments before repeating her name. “Where are the girls?”

  She said nothing and gave no indication that she had heard him. Her pale skin and lips didn’t twitch. Eyelids didn’t flutter.

  Had she passed? He could see the others being disturbed by the event, and leaving because of it.

  He strapped the M4 on his shoulder and slung it behind his back. The floor was dry and dirty. Mold and mildew blackened the grout between the tiles, and climbed the wall. A breeding ground for infection.

  Kneeling next to Barbara, Sean placed two fingers on her neck. The light pumps to indicate a heartbeat were non-existent. After a few seconds, he adjusted his hand. Still nothing.

  “Dammit, Barbara.”

  He’d given up hope. But as he slid his fingers off her neck, he felt a weak pounding. She was still alive. Barely.

  “Barbara, can you hear me?”

  She drew in a sharp breath as though he’d roused her from a
deep sleep. Her left eyelid cracked open. For a moment.

  “Where are the girls? Where’s Emma?”

  Scenarios raced through Sean’s mind. Someone had come along and found them. They assumed Barbara was dead and left her behind. The others they took. For what purpose? To protect? To enslave? Bait for the afflicted?

  “Think, Sean,” he said, rising. The sudden movement left him lightheaded for a couple seconds.

  He left the stall and walked past the other showers. He prayed he didn’t find the women in there now.

  Relief and panic battled when he reached the entrance. The others were not in there, face down in a pool of their own blood. But where were they? Where had Emma gone? Had Addison convinced Emma and Jenny to leave and head west? That made no sense. On foot, the journey would take days. Weeks, maybe. And it wasn't like Sean had been gone for days, leaving them out of hope for his return. It'd only been a few hours.

  The wind chilled his sweat coated his body as he stepped into the clearing. The sensation refreshed him, if only for a moment before stinging the wounds on his arms, shoulders and back.

  The clearing was void of any other structures. He saw six concrete pads for parking campers and a couple tent sites. Beyond that, the darkened forest.

  "Where'd you go, Em?"

  The shadowy woods offered no clues. Sean walked the perimeter but picked up no trails. Without an idea of which direction Emma and the others had gone, the only safe move was stay put. They must've left for a reason, and if so they'd be back. Plus, Barbara needed immediate medical attention. And Sean welcomed that distraction.

  He hurried across the clearing to the concrete building. The wind kicked up dust and dirt and other debris. It pelted his sweaty skin, sticking and creating a thin film of grime. He reached the structure and stopped at the door.

  He’d heard something. Faint, and not the wind. Sean tilted his head, closed his eyes, and listened. Again, the sound broke through the white noise.

  A dog barking.

  Sean turned in the direction he thought it came from. Several seconds passed with nothing but silence. Then the dog called out again. Sean adjusted his stance as he honed in on the source.

  His heart felt as though it skipped a beat. His stomach loosened then knotted. His hands clenched around the M4.

  Three shadows appeared amid tree trunks. An animal snaked through the shadows, a few feet ahead of the people.

  Sean extended the rifle but aimed it upward. He didn't want to accidentally shoot whoever approached.

  Marley was the first to emerge from the woods. His ears perked as he sniffed at the air. Then he spotted Sean and darted across the clearing.

  Jenny, Addison, and Emma stepped out together. Each armed with an M4. Relief swept across their faces when they spotted Sean. Emma handed her rifle to Addison, then sprinted across the clearing into her father's open arms.

  “Where the hell did you guys go?” Sean said, squeezing Emma hard against his chest. When she pulled away, dirt covered half her face. He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, mixing tears and grime into a salty paste.

  “Heard something out there,” Addison said. “The dog was acting sketchy, so I opened the door to take a peek. Turns out, Marley’s more fluff that fat, and a cracked door was all he needed to escape. None of us wanted to leave Barbara. But Jenny refused to let me go alone, and there was no way I was letting Emma stay behind. So we all went to find him.” She paused, then added, “Barbara’s in pretty bad shape. Have you seen her?”

  Sean nodded, trying to keep from expressing the inevitable.

  Addison continued. “Did you find anything?”

  He pulled the messenger bag strap over the top of his head and held it out. “Not a lot, but enough for now.” He paused for a moment. “Did you see anything out there, or find the source of the noise?”

  Addison shook her head. “Quiet out there. But, you know, it felt like someone watched us the whole time.”

  “Yeah, I know the feeling.” Sean stepped through the doorway. “Guess it’s best you two watch the door while Emma helps me with Barb. Once I get her patched up, we’ll leave this place.”

  “Hurry,” Addison said. “Like I said, feels like someone…something is out there. And it’s close.”

  Nineteen

  “He’s close.” Phil wiped a bead of sweat off the LCD screen. The dot that indicated the position of Ryder’s GPS unit hadn’t moved in fifteen minutes. “In the woods, but looks like we might be able to get close before having to huff it on foot.”

  Barton nodded as he shifted the truck into gear. They’d been stopped for close to half an hour, outside Chapel Hill. Waiting for Ryder to move. Watching the afflicted.

  Phil glanced around. “Only concern is they’ll hear us coming from a mile away. Not like anything out there makes a sound these days. What once would have sounded like normal traffic now is a dead giveaway.”

  “So we park these and walk. How far away is it?”

  Phil calculated the distance. “At least three miles. Too far to risk walking. We might get halfway there and then he takes off. We’d fall behind. We gave him enough fuel that there’s no way he’s out already. And I doubt he wasted much because it’s obvious he knew the area from my camp down to Danville. He stuck to those old logging roads most of the way.”

  “How do you know that?” Barton regarded Phil as though he thought Phil was in cahoots with Ryder.

  “Ralph was able to tell when he pulled up their location. Showed the route they took. Besides the point, though. What I’m getting at is maybe Sean has knowledge of the trails and old roads that wind through these forests, too. A guy like that, with special forces training and advanced warning of the virus, I wouldn’t put it past him to have had multiple escape routes planned.”

  “So you’re saying we walk from here, we might get caught with our dicks in our zippers.”

  “Eloquently put.”

  “I’m a redneck,” Barton said. “I only know one kind of eloquence.”

  The men shared a smile. It happened so infrequently now that Phil took note.

  “Okay,” Barton said. “Let’s drive as far as we can, then take the rest on foot.”

  During the drive, they devised a plan to limit opportunities for Ryder to escape. The four men inside Barton’s truck would walk the path. The others would split into four groups of two and stalk the woods. They should all hit the location of the GPS at the same time.

  They convened with the others and explained their roles. They split off, four to the right of the old dirt road. Four to the left. The rest stayed behind.

  Phil, Barton, Ralph and Justin walked shoulder to shoulder down the path. Flattened grass indicated a vehicle had passed through recently. Twenty or so feet on either side of them were two teams, providing cover. Should someone approach from the front or behind, they’d have no way of knowing there were four additional rifles trained on them. Every ten steps or so, Phil glanced down to verify the location of the other GPS hadn’t changed.

  They’d reached the half-way point. Phil estimated another ten minutes at their current pace.

  Not a bird or an insect made a sound. The wind blew mercilessly through the trees. Leaves cascaded and swirled on a sideways path to the ground.

  Storm coming. Everything took shelter.

  The clouds made it obvious. But Phil had encountered a similar situation after leaving his camp, when they’d stopped near the woods and moments later a pack of afflicted had made their presence known.

  Ice ran across his skin as unseen eyes stared him down.

  “Tighten up, boys,” Phil said as much to himself as to the men around him. “Something’s out there.”

  “Where?” Barton said.

  “Somewhere. Just be on your toes.”

  “Christ, Phil.” Barton cleared his throat and spit to the side. “Scared the tar out of me. Thought you’d seen something.”

  “It’s not what I’ve seen. It’s what I’m not hearing.”

>   They pushed forward. Gusts rolled through like crashing waves. The grass along the edge of the path swayed. A tree branch fell nearby. The thunderous sound drove a few crows from their resting places. Their squawks sounded like screams through a bullhorn. A little tension eased from Phil’s shoulders knowing that the birds hung around. Although he had no proof that they normally left when there were afflicted nearby. Only a hunch. And a smart one at that. Kept him in line and his head on a swivel.

  The doubled over grass led the way as the old dirt road curved to the right. Trees obscured their view. The men slowed to a shuffle. Ralph and Justin fell behind Phil and Barton. Stepping out from the cover of brush and trees, Phil raised his rifle.

  The square concrete structure before him looked as though it had been painted multiple times over the years. Along the building’s chipped facade, Phil spotted yellow, tan, red, and green.

  The other men fell in line. All clutched their rifles and scanned the building and surrounding area.

  Phil glanced at the GPS. “This is the spot. The ATV must be on the other side of the building. Ralph, you come with me. You two take the other side.”

  Phil pointed at the woods on either side and gestured for the men hidden in the shadows to keep moving.

  The men split into two groups and went to opposite corners at the rear of the structure, with Phil and Ralph taking the left side.

  “Stay right behind me, Ralph. When we reach the edge, I’m going to one knee. You come up behind me and we’ll move together with you covering ahead. Handle your assignment and we’ll be okay. Got it?”

  Ralph nodded and said nothing.

  They continued forward. Phil kept his right elbow in contact with the concrete building. Age had weathered the surface to sandpaper. It grated against his skin.

  He stopped a few feet shy of the corner. The deserted clearing ahead of them led to a few old spots for campers, and beyond that, the woods. Straight across he spotted another path wide enough it might be a road like the one they walked in on.

  “On three, Ralph,” he whispered. “One, two, three.”