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

by Michael W. Garza

  “Get up. Get up now.”

  Kuru’s snarling voice shouted something from behind them, but Rowan couldn’t make it out. Connor’s face streaked with pain as he tried to remain standing. Rowan’s brain tried to calculate the time and distance between the gap in the wall behind him and the infected running toward him, but the panic made the equation impossible to crack. A flash of movement beyond the broken wall spoke to what was coming.

  Rowan was out of options. He pushed his heels down in one quick thrust as he yanked on Connor’s arm. The force got Connor up, yelling obscene objections as he went. The momentum flung Rowan backward with Connor close behind. The duo fell into the gap in the wall with Rowan taking the impact as they hit the floor on the other side.

  Kuru had a shoulder buried into a small, metal crate, shoving it across the face of the opening. The barrier slid into place as the face of an infected man flashed in front of the breach. A thunderous blast erupted from the far side of the crate as the body of the beast slammed into it. Rowan scrambled out from under Connor and stood up.

  The lines of light dotting the darkened interior provided few details about their surroundings. Rowan’s fear forced him to pull the lantern from his hip. He set it down on the ground and fumbled through his pockets for the tools to get it lit. Another more powerful bang hit the crate and caused him to drop everything in his hands.

  “Damn it,” he said, swiping his fingers across the floor.

  Kuru pulled on him, trying to get him to start moving again.

  “Forget it,” he said.

  Rowan shook him off.

  “I’m not running around here in the dark,” he spat back. “Help him up.”

  Kuru grabbed Connor’s arm but he slapped it away.

  “Get your filthy hands off of me.”

  Rowan found the rest of his scattered gear and quickly produced a spark. The lantern came to life as the pounding on the crate increased, so much so, that it pushed away from the wall.

  “We’re out of time,” Kuru said.

  The beam of light sprang from the lantern and filled the far side of the room. Rowan caught sight of figures moving toward him as he started forward. Hands reached out a moment before the moans of the dead marked their arrival. He kicked at the lumbering undead man and the strike at the knee tore through the remains of its pants and snapped the decaying bone beneath in two. The zombie fell and another quickly took its place. Connor’s cry for help filled the room when Kuru stepped ahead of them.

  “Back.”

  Rowan felt the release the moment Kuru cried out. The lantern’s light revealed the undead pushing into the space from across the room, each of them now frozen in place. There were more figures than Rowan cared to count. The state of decay was unnerving most of them either peeled, gouged, or partially eaten in some manner.

  “Stay close.”

  Kuru’s direction left little room for error. He walked forward, directly between the pack as Rowan helped Connor up in a hurry. The dead closed in around them, none of them willing to challenge whatever sway Kuru held over them, but their longing for flesh kept their rotting eyes focused squarely on the fleeing meal. The putrid flesh parted in a narrow path and Kuru led them through it. They broke free from the pack and Rowan pushed past their guide, pulling Connor with him.

  A loud screech told them the crate would not hold the infected back for much longer. The sound of the alarm was more than enough to get Rowan to pick up his pace. His desire to increase his speed came to a grinding halt when Connor pulled away. Gasping for air, he leaned against the wall and shook his head.

  “Go on,” he said between deep huffs. “You might as well shoot me.” He clenched his teeth and pressed against his knee. “I can’t run.”

  Rowan’s eyes went back to the crowd of dead slowly inching toward them. He was out of time and he knew it. He turned his gaze on Kuru.

  “How much farther?”

  “There’s another two levels,” he said. “Then we’ll have to survive long enough to reach the landing.”

  Rowan was stuck somewhere between his need to bring Connor back and a desperate necessity for self-preservation. It took another loud bang on the crate to snap him back to the moment. He held the lantern out for Kuru.

  “Take this and lead the way.”

  He didn’t leave time for details. Rowan grabbed Connor by the arm then got down on one knee. Rowan ducked in close to his chest, and before Connor could object, he grabbed his good leg and lifted straight up. The result left Connor lying across Rowan’s shoulders yelling at him for it. Rowan barked at Kuru again.

  “Lead the way.”

  Rowan struggled to keep up. For his part, Connor continued to complain. His new position left his mouth even with Rowan’s ear. Heat built in Rowan’s legs as the pain of his load increased with every step. He was forced to climb over a number of collapsed walls before he reached an erect barrier. Kuru slipped through a hole in the wall ahead of them and the sounds racing up from behind said they had no time to consider options.

  “I can’t climb through there with you,” Rowan said.

  Connor blared out some indiscernible response that included the dead and the infected behind them. Rowan had a good idea what it meant. He chose the only available alternative. He took a long step toward the wall then ducked, pushing up on Connor with both hands in the same motion.

  Connor yelled as he flew. Rowan’s aim was true with one minor degree of error. Connor slipped through the hole in the wall clipping his forehead as he passed. Rowan started in after him before Connor hit the ground on the other side.

  Connor wasn’t moving and a line of fresh blood running across his brow gave a hint as to why. Rowan knelt down and picked him up and he got a quick glimpse of what was behind them. There were more infected than he could count and what was worse, they were close. Rowan cradled Connor’s limp body between his arms and pressed on with a vague silhouette of Kuru in the distance to guide him.

  He forced himself to run. Connor’s dead weight felt like he’d gained a hundred pounds. The sounds of the infected breaching the hole behind them intensified with every step. The run ended in a collapsed room and sudden dread clung to Rowan as he searched for a way out.

  “Here. Up here.”

  Rowan spun around at the sound of Kuru’s voice and found him on the floor above. He shined the light at a mound of rock in the near corner.

  “Climb!”

  Rowan was already on the move. Every muscle in his arms screamed for release. He was sure he would drop Connor at any moment. The moment his foot hit level ground, he turned to find a row of countless figures scowling back at him. Guttural moans gave away their identity. The lantern’s beam highlighted one of them, its guts exposed by a gash below the belly button. The light shifted as Kuru held his hand up.

  “Go that way, quickly,” he said.

  Rowan ran blindly with a sliver of light to guide him, certain at any moment his strength would fail. The light shifted behind him as Kuru tried to catch up. Rowan reached a split in the hall when recognition struck him. He turned off the main passage, knowing the landing and his freedom were close at hand.

  Another turn exposed a wide ray of light cascading into the hall up ahead. Rowan didn’t look back until the edge of the doorway and the shattered wall was within reach. The lantern light zigzagged through the darkness as Kuru closed in. Rowan stepped across the room and out onto the landing where the immensity of the gorge was thrust into full view.

  Connor’s limbs hung lifeless as Rowan stopped. A flurry of movement ended with Rowan’s arms giving out and Connor falling down onto the metal grates. His eyes sprang open as a wave of horrible sounds filtered into the open space. Rowan shoved him into the center of the large flap of material he’d brought down with him.

  Kuru slipped into view as the sounds of countless infected flooded the landing. The last of the evening light caught Kuru’s face. The view was an instant reminder of what he truly was and more so, the pos
sibility of what he was capable of doing. Rowan hadn’t forgotten the fear of what Kuru had become. He’d allowed himself to push the thoughts aside for the sake of their mutual needs.

  “Get me out of–”

  Rowan pulled the edges of the sack up around Connor, muffling off his pleas. He gave the attached rope a yank and the entire contraption lifted off the landing. He wrapped his hand around the ropes and held on as it rose. Kuru spun around and Rowan met his stare. He took one step into the room and Rowan lifted his gun. Rowan kept the gun sight steady on Kuru until he was lifted from view.

  21

  They walked in a well-spaced line, two by two. Mia kept to the front of the formation with Marcus. Bree and Bale moved in step with her several paces behind. Weapons were at the ready with most of the group choosing to keep the few guns they had holstered.

  Silence was the key. Marcus was clear about his beliefs. Mia knew the truth in his warning. Getting caught in a building was far more dangerous than running into the dead or infected out in the open.

  Mia found her memories of Cheyenne far less useful than she’d imagined. Her knowledge of the streets didn’t provide much assistance on their approach through the outlands. It was left to Marcus to guide them. Time ticked by at a painfully slow rate as they halted for every distant whisper.

  The sun slipped from the sky and took the last bit of warmth with it. Mia pulled her coat tight around her chest and zipped it up. She kept her sword drawn, her eyes shifting between the first row of buildings to the south and the tree line in the north. Marcus was a step ahead of her, holding onto a contraption he called a crossbow. Mia was fascinated by it, although she didn’t fully understand how it worked.

  The formation climbed to the highest point of a ridgeline running between the city and the forest then looked down on an extensive open valley. The grass ran off straight ahead of them broken by a wide six-lane highway dotted with the husks of long-forgotten vehicles. The road led directly into the heart of Cheyenne.

  “Can you get us there from here?” Marcus asked and his breath rose up above his head.

  Mia nodded.

  “Not far now,” she said.

  Mia led them down the ridge and into the snowy grassland. They met the road as the last of the light vanished and an impressive display of stars took control of the sky. Mia skirted around the vehicles with a heightened sense of anxiety. Moonlit shadows reached out from the edge of the city creating a clear line of demarcation between the grassland and what awaited.

  The natural sounds of the valley disappeared the moment they reached the edge of the city. The group came to a stop and gathered in the darkness as they plotted a way forward. Mia kept her eyes on the way ahead. There was movement in the dim light between the first few rows of buildings. The slow, shambling forms reeked of the undead, but it was impossible to be sure.

  “We stay out of the buildings,” Marcus said. “We get to the gardens and do what we need to do, that’s it.”

  Mia wasn’t certain that getting into the gardens would be as easy as that. She believed a majority of the walls and barricades were in place, but the dead and infected had worked their way inside a long time ago. All they really needed to find out was if the defenses could be repaired in a hurry and if the tribe could make a stand if they needed to.

  The people of the Canaan tribe would have the gear and supplies to do the job as long as they could be protected long enough to fix the gaps in the barricades. The move would force them to start over as a tribe, to rebuild everything from the ground up. The thought of it was daunting, but Mia reminded herself that their options were dwindling with each passing moment.

  “This way.”

  A strange but familiar sensation crept through the back of her mind. She didn’t realize how much she missed Cheyenne. The impression brought with it a sadness that she hadn’t expected. Mia had a longing to see her home. Flashes of memories from the final view were marred with blood and flames.

  Mia kept the highway on one side, guiding her to their destination. They moved in quick spurts, highlighted by tense moments of waiting in the dark. The dead were active, but their numbers were few. There was no sign of the infected.

  “The next street over,” Mia announced.

  They cleared the block and the first glimpse of the gardens opened up before them. Stonewalls ran the length of the complex south and west highlighted by open gateways evenly placed along the border. Several rooftops pierced the campus, hinting at the structures hidden within. One glance revealed the true size of the space and provided hope that a home could be created inside.

  Marcus led them up to the wall then down to the nearest gate. One section of the entrance lay on the ground in the middle of the street with the other rusted side hanging onto the edge of the wall by a single clasp. He gave his instructions with silent commands, sending Bale and Bree across the opening for a better view at the interior. They continued the approach until Marcus and Mia were the last pair to enter the complex.

  The initial view took Mia by surprise. The interior structures were worse off than she’d imagined, few of them with four standing walls. A number of the roofs were collapsed, leaving the internal space open to the elements. Mia wasn’t sure what she expected, but the scene was disheartening.

  They worked their way between a series of small structures to reach the center of the complex. The remains of a wide field spread out on the far side of the buildings, running up to the southern barrier. There wasn’t much to see, but Mia envisioned a sustainable food source. The evidence of planting rows worked across the dirt from east to west.

  “There.”

  Marcus’ warning pulled everyone’s attention to the largest of the complex structures. The plantation-styled building set against the western wall, overlooking the interior grounds like a watchman. Busted-out windows lined all three stories from one side of the structure to the other. The first sign of movement came from a pair of openings on the second floor. Mia started toward the building before she realized the movements were far too quick to be counted among the dead. The recognition brought her to a stop. She grabbed Bree before the girl could get too far ahead of her then caught Marcus with a hand to the chest.

  “If we go in there,” she said, “we might not be able to get back out.”

  Marcus spotted the infected trolling the second floor.

  “We’re going to have to do some exterminating one way or another,” he said.

  His point was valid, but Mia disagreed with the timing.

  “Not now,” she said, “not running around in the dark.”

  “What more do you need to see?”

  Mia wasn’t sure. Her eyes drifted to the skyline along the southern portion of the wall. She couldn’t see them, but she knew the former high-rise home of her tribe was somewhere in the distance. Mia wondered if there was a chance she could bring her people home. Bale interrupted her train of thought.

  “I don’t think we’re going to have a choice.”

  All eyes were to the main building, and in particular, the double door entrance. The doors had long fallen away and a pair of twitching limbs pulled free from the darkness within the opening. Another figure joined the first, each rushing forward with a piercing cry. Bale released a pair of arrows before Mia brought her sword up in front of her face.

  The sound of impact told the value of Bale’s aim with a bow, but neither of the strikes put the lead figure down. Several more infected ran out from the darkness behind the first pair, bringing the count to half a dozen. Mia’s long stride to get out in front was bested by Bree. The young girl quickly placed herself between Mia and their attackers, sided by Bale and two others.

  The fight was brutally quick. Mia’s group spread out wide enough that the advancing infected had to focus on one at a time. The formation left them exposed to multiple attacks. Bale led the offensive with another series of arrows, followed closely by one of the other’s bow. There were three infected standing when the hand-to-hand
combat began.

  Mia didn’t get a good look at the attackers until Bree took a swing at one of them and left an opening for her to move forward. They were scrawny far beyond anything she’d ever seen. Dark, gaunt sockets exposed the haunting golden hue of their eyes, each marked by wild and ferocious blood lust. Unnatural spastic movements produced a horrifying vision.

  Bree’s advance put her directly in one of the men’s path. Mia saw the mistake, but couldn’t react fast enough before the two smacked into one another. The force of the impact lifted Bree’s slight frame off the ground, landing with the infected man on top of her. He had one hand on her face and the other around her throat as he bit at her chest. Mia plunged the tip of her sword into the base of his skull as his ghastly teeth tore into Bree’s clothes.

  “Get it off me,” Bree screamed as the full weight of the naked man pressed down on her. “Help.”

  She managed to roll the limp body off to the side before Mia could get a hand on it. The conflict was over by the time Bree was up and moving again.

  “Are you all right?” Mia asked, frantically pulling at her coat. “Were you bit?”

  The shock of the question struck Bree all at once and her eyes opened impossibly wide. She patted her hands across her chest, panting wildly. Her hands shook as she stopped, pulling her jacket open. Mia could see through a newly made hole in the shirt to the skin between her breasts. The vision of faint teeth imprints showed no sign of blood. Mia reached out for her and slipped her fingers over the mark.

  “It didn’t break the skin,” she said then let out a deep sigh.

  It took a moment for the news to break through Bree’s frightened haze. She still had her coat held open when Bale took notice. Mia stepped in front of the girl and pulled at the edges of her jacket.

  “She’s all right,” Mia said before taking a head count. “We’re all still here.”

  Marcus looked over the bodies littering the edge of the field. He knelt down beside a woman, turned her head to one side then slid his knife into her brain.