The Decaying World Saga (Book 2): Season of Decay

by Michael W. Garza

  None of the sounds made sense. The moaning of the dead was everywhere until a gunshot shook him. Someone grabbed him and lifted him up off the ground. Jonah ran for a long time before he was tossed back to the ground. They lifted his sack once so he could take a drink of water, but he didn’t have time to look around.

  Jonah thought to call out for help, but figured he’d get a harsh punishment for the act. The fear was overwhelming. He cried in the darkness unable to control his emotions. Something told him he’d never see his sister, Rowan, or his friends ever again. The heartache grew with every passing moment.

  His captors kept quiet for the most part with one or two ever speaking above a whisper. Jonah was forced to walk, urged from time to time with a shove in the back. The sounds of the dead were long behind them when he guessed at their destination. Jonah knew they were far underground. He surmised the passage would have to start to climb at some point. He and the rest of the Knights of Rowan had explored much of the land surrounding Canaan with the group’s namesake. They’d never found anything that he could recall that might act as an exit for the underground tunnel. The logical conclusion said the passage must go on for a great distance before it reached its end.

  Jonah’s mind ran through all of the terrible possibilities of what might lay ahead. The darkness within the sack heightened his other senses, but the sounds provided little for him to go off. The first rising voice shook him so much that he nearly wet his pants.

  “Sit.”

  A hard push then a kick to the back of his leg followed the instruction. Jonah hit the ground on his knees. Someone pulled the hood off his head and a rush of light blinded him. He saw Tate a moment before he was tossed down next to him. The boys stared at each other with wide-eyed fear, neither willing to risk a word. Their captors were a mix of two distinct groups. Most of them were dressed in black uniforms, similar to those who used to walk the halls of Canaan. The others were a sad lot, haggard and filthy, that appeared to be slaves of some sort.

  Jonah quickly took in his surroundings and confirmed they were still somewhere underground. The tunnel was crudely carved, but wide enough for several men to stand shoulder to shoulder. He focused in on the lights of the soldiers and to his amazement found that they stretched up ahead of his position as far as he could see. The tall man who was apparently responsible for the captives was busy picking through a plump bag of rations. His uniform painted him as a soldier, but his thick glasses and rail thin build said otherwise. Jonah waited until the man found whatever it was he was searching for before leaning in closer to Tate.

  “Are you all right?”

  Tate turned toward him as if noticing he was there for the first time. He nodded, but refused to speak.

  “We’re going to get out of here,” Jonah said. He didn’t believe that, but he always felt it was his place to lead as best he could. “Somehow,” he added.

  Jonah peeked back at their watcher to find his beady eyes glaring at him.

  “Do you have something to share with the rest of us?” the man asked in a sickly-baritone. A number of the surrounding soldiers looked up from their rations to laugh. “Perhaps you can entertain us on the way back.”

  Jonah responded before his brain could stop him.

  “What do you want from us?”

  The question was enough to get the man to stomp forward. Jonah cringed, unable to protect himself. The man slapped him on the side of the head with enough force to send him face down on the ground.

  “I suggest you watch your tongue.”

  Jonah rolled onto his side and looked up at the man. One of the other soldiers spoke up as the rest of the group started to gather their gear as they prepared to move.

  “Why’d you bring them, Kagan?”

  He scowled down at Jonah.

  “We’re supposed to be looking for a boy and here we found two of them,” Kagan said.

  The other soldier slipped his backpack over his shoulder and started forward.

  “A dead boy,” he said. “They don’t look dead to me. You should slit their throats and be done with it.”

  The offhanded comment sent shivers down Jonah’s spine. Kagan leaned over and grabbed him by the hair. He yanked Jonah back up to his knees then stood in front of both boys. Kagan crouched down and forced them to look at his face.

  “If I have a problem with either of you, I’ll follow his advice.” He let the statement sink in before finishing. “You two understand me?”

  Jonah and Tate nodded. Kagan put his food away, his eyes never leaving the boys. He slipped Tate’s sack back over his head then Jonah’s. They were pulled up to their feet and the march began again.

  ♦

  The pace slowed and they stopped from time to time to eat, rest, and relieve themselves. Jonah never tried to speak again even when they removed his hood long enough to get a look around. They fed the boys scraps, barely enough to keep their energy up. The few views they got of their surroundings revealed little about their destination.

  The first sign of daylight was overpowering. Jonah could smell the fresh air long before his hood was removed. He couldn’t guess how long they were down in the tunnel, but his brief moments of sleep told him they’d been at the walk for at least a day. He couldn’t be certain of anything.

  The view gave him no hint of their location. The land was flat and covered in snow. Rolling hills covered the scene behind them and a distant forest ran along one side of a valley. Jonah found Tate and angled his steps to bring them closer together.

  A line of figures stretched out far ahead of them where Jonah got his first glimpse of horses and carts. The machines from the bowels of hive six lined the back of the carts stacked atop one another. The soldiers and workers spoke freely, with little concern for their surroundings. Jonah guessed their destination was near.

  The morning’s light snowfall worsened by midday. The boys struggled to keep their balance, marching through the snow with their hands bound behind them. Jonah fell a number of times, each one garnering a round of laughter from the group. He was near exhaustion when the first sign of civilization revealed itself ahead of them.

  Thick, black smoke rose up into the sky from several positions in the snow. The outline of squat dwellings lined the distant view from one side to the other. People moved about within the encampment as others road out in formation to greet the returning troops. Jonah marveled at the horses as they approached. He’d never seen such powerful animals. The horsemen guided the new arrivals in and the monstrous size of the encampment quickly swallowed the entire formation.

  The boys were kept close together with Kagan never far away. Jonah tried to take in as much detail as he could, hopeful that something might provide an opportunity for escape. A wide tent farm covered the backside of the encampment, each laid out in perfectly formed lines. The number of tents suggested the full size of the enemy force was much larger than what was at hand. A long fence lined the far end of the camp forming an open stable of sorts.

  They were led through the camp toward one of the larger tents. Smoke rose from an opening in its top and shadows danced across the exterior from the flames hidden within. A shove sent Jonah face first into the snow. He turned over in time to see Tate falling on top of him. They managed to right themselves as an echo of laughter erupted from the surrounding sea of soldiers. Kagan glared at the boys before ducking into the entrance of the larger tent.

  “What do you think they’re going to do with us?” Tate asked.

  His lips jittered in the cold. Jonah was hungry, tired, and scared. He didn’t have any answers and he wasn’t sure either of them would like the truth if they heard it. Jonah tried to gather his courage.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But, we’re alive for now. We have to be ready to move if the opportunity shows itself.”

  Tate stared back at him as if the thought of getting away never occurred to him.

  “What opportunity?”

  “Any opportunity,” Jonah insisted
. “We have to get out of here before they decide that we’re no use to them.”

  “I’m scared, Jonah.”

  The shock of his words hit Jonah in the chest. They’d built an aura for themselves within the creation of the Knights of Rowan and tried to push themselves beyond fear. To hear it plainly was profound. The admission suddenly reminded Jonah that he, too, was just a boy. He felt the fear take hold as his response forced its way out.

  “So am I.”

  “Rowan’s going to come get us, right?”

  Jonah wanted to believe that. He wanted so badly to believe that Rowan would be able to track them down and bring them back. Accepting the truth made the situation feel hopeless. He shook his head slowly.

  “No,” Jonah admitted. “We’re on our own.”

  Tate lowered his head, turning his face away. Jonah didn’t have to see him to know he was crying. The sound of his sobs were contagious. Jonah’s chest swelled as his emotions besieged him. The reappearance of Kagan stopped the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Kagan conjured up enough panic to shake him back to the moment, but the monstrous man that followed him nearly seized Jonah’s heart in his chest.

  Dr. Olric was difficult to miss and impossible to forget. The colossal figure had to bend over to get through the low opening in the tent. Standing at his full height, he towered over the boys grimacing down at them with one eye opened impossibly wide. The afternoon light revealed the horrible scars running along the side of his face.

  Jonah would never forget the terror he exuded. The shock in Tate’s eyes said the horror was not his alone. Dr. Olric had traded in his pristine white coat for a soldier’s uniform. His black fatigues were dotted with patches and insignias.

  “That one,” Dr. Olric said after studying the pair. He pointed a finger at Jonah. “I know your face.” He moved closer. “You came with him.”

  It took Jonah several deep breaths to find his voice.

  “Who?”

  Dr. Olric smiled a terrifying grin.

  “The one who stole the nexus from me.”

  Jonah had no idea what he was talking about, but he made a quick decision that it might be the one thing to keep him and Tate alive a while longer. He latched on to the moment when he’d first encountered the doctor.

  “Rowan,” Jonah said at nearly a whisper. “There was something special about Rowan’s blood.” Jonah didn’t remember much more than a handful of conversations he’d had with Rowan about the events surrounding the undead boy Dr. Olric called the nexus. “You wanted him.”

  Doctor Olric roared his response, stomping his boot in the snow.

  “The boy is mine.” He grabbed Jonah by the collar and lifted him off the ground. “He had no right to take him.”

  He tightened his giant paw and Jonah gagged as the force pressed in on his windpipe. He kicked his legs back and forth, striking Dr. Olric several times. The behemoth held him up in the air, watching in devilish glee as he struggled to breathe. Jonah’s vision faded, spots forming in his eyes as consciousness slowly slipped away.

  “Leave him alone.”

  Tate’s plea filtered through the darkness and Jonah felt a sudden rush before he crashed into the ground. He gasped for air and rolled onto his back. His vision slowly returned, but Dr. Olric was gone. He discovered the man already a good distance away, Kagan chasing after him, questioning his directions. It took a moment for Jonah to gather his wits, but once he did, he set his mind quickly.

  “We have to make a run for it.”

  Tate’s eyes opened wide.

  “What, now?”

  Jonah checked to make sure Dr. Olric and Kagan were still moving away from them. Kagan’s pace slowed and the hesitation spurred Jonah into action. He was up on his feet, urging Tate to follow his example.

  “We’ll head for those trees,” he said, motioning with his chin. “We’ll work on the binds when we get there.”

  He sprinted off before Tate had time to consider the lunacy of the plan. A series of yells echoed through the camp before Jonah managed his third step. He kept his sights set on the trees, rushing past the tents on either side of him. The last of the temporary dwellings was in view when the calls of alarm neared.

  Jonah risked a glance over his shoulder to find a terrorizing vision. Tate was nowhere to be seen; instead, a full patrol of soldiers, men and women alike had taken up pursuit, most of them growling in delight at the thrill of the chase. Jonah was out in the open when the first of his pursuers rushed in to bring him down. The soldier shouted a war-crying howl then left his feet. He hit Jonah square on the head, sending him tumbling forward. It was by pure chance that Jonah completed a full roll and the momentum forced him back up on his feet. The soldier fell face first to the ground with a solid thud. Jonah had a heartbeat worth of hope before the second of the two closest pursuers smashed her shoulder directly into his spine.

  Jonah was thrown forward several feet before his face hit the ground. The impact dazed him and he didn’t realize he’d been flung onto his back until the soldier mounted him like a horse. She was smiling as the rest of the trailing posse rushed in behind her. The woman never said a word, instead making her point with a single, yet devastating punch to the jaw.

  13

  There was no good reason to go down into the gorge alone. Rowan had argued against Mia’s point but he could admit, at least to himself, that she was right. The truth was he didn’t want to bear the burden of having to keep anyone else safe. He told himself that everyone else had something important to do. He told himself that the people of Canaan should be preparing to evacuate the hives.

  He and Mia parted at the confines of the supply room and headed in opposite directions. Rowan couldn’t get the encounter out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. He’d fantasized countless times, about what it would be like to explore her body, but the actual event was far more exhilarating than he ever imagined. It felt more like a dream than anything else.

  He was working through a series of things he needed to get done when he made the turn on to the main hall. The entrances into the sleeping areas were alive with movement. Rowan was trying to decide what gear he needed to take with him. Finding the undead boy Dr. Olric called the nexus felt like an impossible task. He had it in mind to close off the underground tunnel they’d used to gain entry once and for all.

  “When are we going?”

  Rowan was so intently focused on the items he wanted to gather that he barely took in the question.

  “As soon as I can get everything together,” he said then knelt down and flipped open his footlocker. “I need to talk to Asher and find out where he got the…” Rowan stopped with his arm leaning on the end of the bed. He peeked over his shoulder and centered on Bree and Bale now standing in the doorway. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “We’re going,” Bale said defiantly.

  Rowan shook his head before turning back to his task.

  “You can’t stop us,” Bree added.

  Rowan continued what he was doing until he had everything he figured he’d need. He crammed most of it into the backpack he had stashed under his cot. He slipped the pack over his shoulder then scooped up the lantern beside the footlocker before turning to face the onlookers. Neither of them moved out of the way.

  “How do you even know where I’m going?” he asked.

  Bree smiled.

  “I followed you and Mia to the tribal council meeting,” she said.

  Rowan thought about it.

  “You listened out in the hall, didn’t you?”

  Her smile widened then quickly vanished.

  “We have to do something,” she said as the air rushed from her lungs in a long sigh. “I can’t sit here and hope I see Jonah and Tate again.”

  “You know we can fight,” Bale said.

  “I know you can fight,” Rowan assured him. “But they’re not down there. If you heard me in the council meeting, you know that already.”

  The truth was Rowan couldn
’t stop either of them from doing whatever they wanted. Bale was a few years younger than he was but capable of going off on his own if he saw fit. Bree was another matter altogether. She was still young and needed the protection of the tribe to survive. Rowan saw something in the girl that reminded him of Mia’s strength and passion. None of his feelings about the duo changed his opinion on his descent into the bowels of hive six.

  “You won’t make it out alive,” Rowan said.

  “I could say the same to you,” Bree countered in a tone much too close to Mia’s for Rowan’s comfort. “We survived the last time.”

  Rowan had enough. He pushed in between them, knocking both aside as he stepped out into the hall. “I need you to do something for me,” he said as he walked away. He heard their stomping boots rushing to catch up with him. He was already at the turn before they stepped in stride with him. Rowan knew each of them well enough to know which strings to pull.

  “Do what?” Bale asked.

  “Do you have any idea how dangerous it’s going to be evacuating the hives?” Rowan asked as he carefully laid his trap.

  “I guess,” Bree said.

  “I need the remaining Knights of Rowan to provide an escort for the tribal council,” he said, “of course that includes Mia.” He had to suppress a smile. Their silence spoke volumes about how deeply they’d taken the bait. Rowan slowed as they reached the stairs leading down to the second level. He made sure their eyes were on him. “Do you think you could do that for me?”

  Bree slid a look at Bale before nodding. Bale grunted his confirmation. Rowan started down the stairs still holding back his grin. They followed him to the infirmary where they found Mia standing over Asher. His eyes were open and his voice cracked as he spoke.

  “It must be my lucky day,” Asher said.

  “I’d say that’s a fact,” Rowan said coming to a stop at Mia’s side. He slid one hand across her back and patted Asher on the shoulder with the other. “Good to see you’re still breathing.”

  “I was a little more concerned than I might have let on,” he admitted.