The Mortis Desolation (Book 1): Mortis

by Logan Rutherford

  A rabbit ran out from behind the desk, the sudden noise and movement causing me to jump a little. Other than that, the main lobby seemed to be deserted.

  I turned to where the rest of the group was hiding behind the shell of a burnt-up car, and waved them over. They crossed the parking lot staying dead silent. John and Daniel held Julia, who was close to passing out. Once we got behind the Johnny’s, Rachel was able to bandage up the wound with some of the supplies she’d brought. Still, Julia had lost a lot of blood, and Rachel still needed to stitch up the bullet holes.

  My thoughts went to my own bullet wound, and how much it hurt. It pulsated with pain, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to ignore it. I didn’t have the time for pain.

  “It looks clear,” I said once the group reached me. “There’s a couch in there we can put Julia on. Rachel,” I said as I turned to her. “You patch up Julia and then figure out some way to take care of Peter’s arm.” I turned to Peter, whose face was white and sweat dripped off his body. He was on the verge of passing out. “Daniel, John,” I said to them. “We’ll check out the rest of the building. Make sure it’s empty and safe. If so, we’ll set up camp deep inside it, out of sight.”

  They nodded their heads. “Sounds like a good plan to me,” Daniel said.

  We walked through the windows, the glass crunching beneath our feet. The cool night’s wind blew past us, blowing around a few stray papers, the sound of which echoed around the empty showroom. With the safety on my gun clicked off, I kept my finger ready to pull the trigger at any moment.

  We reached the couch, and John and Daniel set Julia down onto it with ease. Rachel crouched down next to her and took off her backpack. She began rummaging through it, getting right to work.

  Peter lay down on the other couch, wincing in pain as he settled in.

  “How’re you feeling?” I asked him.

  “Adrenaline is keeping most of the pain at bay,” he mumbled as his eyes bored into the ceiling. “If I don’t get this bone set and in a splint…” His voice trailed off as he didn’t have the energy to speak anymore, only focusing on not passing out.

  Rachel looked over her shoulder at him. “Shit,” she breathed under her breath.

  “Is everything going to be alright?” I asked.

  She nodded as she unwrapped Julia’s bandage and began to clean her wound. “They’ll both live, as long as nothing gets infected. I brought some pain meds, but we don’t have a lot. This isn’t going to be comfortable for anybody.”

  I sighed. “At least we’re alive. We’ll feel better after getting some rest.”

  “Which will be a while,” Daniel said.

  I nodded. “You’re right about that.” I looked toward the door that sat back and to my right. “There should be some office furniture back there we can use as beds.”

  “Can’t we just stay out here?” John asked.

  I shook my head. “We’re only a couple of blocks away from Jefferson. The Roves probably won’t come looking for us tonight, if at all. But if they do, we need to be out of sight. Staying out here is too open.”

  “Okay, into the lot it is, then, I guess.”

  I looked at the gash on John’s head and the similar one on Daniel’s. Both of the wounds had dried blood caked around them, while also slowly secreting more blood, as the bleeding had yet to fully stop.

  “Are you two going to be okay?” I asked as looked at their wounds.

  “I’m fine,” John said.

  “Me too. We’ll need them stitched up, but it can wait,” Daniel said, motioning to Rachel who was stitching up Julia. “She has more important things.”

  “Okay, well, let’s clear the area, then.” I pointed to the door that led to the offices. “Let’s just check whatever’s behind those doors for tonight. We’ll look around the rest of the place tomorrow when it’s daylight.”

  I walked past John and Daniel who both fell in line behind me. I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal doorknob and took a deep breath. Daniel and John had their guns up and flashlights on, pointing at the door.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Ready,” they both replied.

  I took another deep breath and opened the doorknob with a click. The door squeaked open, and I slowly pushed it against the wall, opening it fully. I raised my gun, my flashlight’s beam joining with Daniel’s and John’s.

  Our beams stopped on a door at the other end of the long hallway, with a sign that said Garage on the wall. The outside walls of the offices that faced the hallway were floor-to-ceiling windows, like the ones at the offices at Jefferson Memorial. From what I could tell by looking through the windows, the rest of the walls were bare, without even a window to the outside.

  We walked to the first office door on our right, and I opened the door. The room seemed clear, and was small. There was only a two-foot gap between the wall and the side of the desk, with barely enough room behind it for a computer chair. The office smelled musty and sour, causing my nose to wrinkle with disgust.

  I walked into the office, and shined my light underneath the desk. It was empty, so we moved on to the next office across the hall. That one too held nothing but a desk and a few chairs. As did the next, and the next, and the rest of them until we got to the one at the end of the hall.

  We opened the doors to the office at the end, and already I was expecting something different from the rest, which were all carbon copies of each other. This office had blinds on its windows, and looked to be larger than the others, at least from the outside.

  I opened the door, and my suspicions were confirmed. It seemed to be the office of the owner of the car lot. A large desk sat in the center of the room, with a large comfy computer chair sitting behind it. Two cushioned chairs sat across from the desk, while up against the wall to our right, was a couch with a mini fridge next to it.

  Dust-covered plaques and frames with certificates signifying various achievements and certifications hung on the walls, along with a painting of an Native American chief sitting on a horse atop a hill, looking out on the American Plains.

  We stepped into the office, the beams of light from our flashlight showing up clearly in the cloud of dust. I made my way over to the desk, intending to search beneath it. Before I could, however, the sound of a door slamming shut down the hallway outside reached my ears.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I TURNED and ran out of the office and into the hallway. The door at the end that led to the showroom that we left open was now closed. I sprinted for it, ignoring the pain in my leg. I threw the door open and raised my gun.

  My flashlight’s beam landed on Rachel right as she tackled a person to the ground. The person clawed at Rachel’s face, but Rachel grabbed the person’s wrist and pinned them to the ground.

  I ran over to Rachel’s side, and pointed my gun in the face of the attacker. It was a girl in her late teen years with long brunette hair that was in a mess. Parts of her hair covered her olive-skinned face, and billowed in and out as she breathed fast and hard. Her brown eyes darted between the two of us, frantic. She struggled against Rachel’s grip, but Rachel wasn’t letting go.

  “Stop fighting,” I said in a harsh whisper. “We aren’t going to hurt you, but you have to calm down. We can’t risk you bringing around any unwanted company, or else we will leave you here to deal with them.”

  She began breathing through her nose, trying to calm down. Her eyes stayed wide and alert, waiting for the moment for one of us to put our guard down so she could take advantage.

  “How many more of you are there?” I asked.

  She looked deep into my eyes, not saying a word.

  “How many more are there?” Daniel whispered, spit flying from his mouth as he did so.

  “Just me,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “Because if you’re lying, it’s not going to end well.”

  She nodded her head quickly.

  “If we let you go, do you promise not to r
un? We have some Roves that might be looking for us, and we’d hate if you ran off and helped them with their search,” I said, my tone of voice condescending.

  “Why would I not turn you in?” she asked through gritted teeth. “I could turn you over in exchange for some food and supplies for my people.” Her eyes went wide and she knew she’d just made a mistake.

  “You people?” I asked. I got closer to her face. “I thought you said there were no more of you.”

  “There aren’t anymore here,” she said, trying to make up for her mistake. “I’m a scout for the Brinn camp.”

  I sat back and chuckled. “You’re with Brinn?”

  She nodded her head. “Yes, I am.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Rachel’s going to let you go now. If you run, you won’t be able to make it out of this showroom, alright?”

  “Fine. Just get this woman off me.”

  Rachel let her go but didn’t break eye contact. Julia made a moaning sound, so Rachel got up and returned to tending to Julia’s wounds, but kept an eye on the girl.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her as she sat up and crossed her legs. I sat back a couple of feet and did the same, setting my gun down, but motioning for the others to do the same. I clicked off my flashlights, as did everyone else. We didn’t want to draw any attention to ourselves by shining lights all around, so we sat there in the light of the moon that filtered through the broken windows.

  “Mila,” she responded. Her breathing slowed, but she still looked at us with caution. A breeze blew through the room, causing her hair to move across her face. “Do you know of Brinn?” she asked.

  I nodded my head. “My name’s Miles. We’re with the Jefferson Memorial group.”

  Mila rolled her eyes and, like the flip of a switch, her caution turned to annoyance. “Oh god, really?” she sighed. “Great. What a bunch of arrogant pricks you lot are.”

  John flinched and Daniel tensed up. I turned and looked at them, giving them a look to calm down.

  I turned back to Mila. “I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t say that.”

  “My point exactly,” she mumbled.

  I scoffed. “Okay, so you don’t like us. Alright. But what are you doing all the way out here? Brinn’s twenty miles away, so what are you doing in our territory?”

  She chuckled. “Well, it’s not exactly your territory anymore. Seems like the Roves have moved in. Which is exactly why I was out here. We noticed their movement spreading outside of Dallas, so I was out here to see what they were up to. Apparently they liked your Wall and all the supplies you hoard behind it.” She said that last sentence with spite.

  “Look, whatever your personal feeling toward us and the way we do business may be, the fact of the matter is that the worst people on the planet are currently in control of our camp. That includes our people, our Wall, and all of our supplies, including our munitions,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “With all those supplies you’re so eager not to share, you’d think you’d be able to hold off a couple of Roves.”

  My body tensed and I could feel my skin flush with anger. “For someone who’s outnumbered, you sure are cocky.”

  Mila pushed part of her hair behind her ear and flashed a white smile. “You really mean it? Aww.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “It’s called acting, kid. I would’ve gotten out of here if it wasn’t for Miss Grabby over there,” she said, pointing at Rachel with the tip of her knife.

  “Whoa,” I said reaching for my gun. “Where’d you get the knife? Put it down.”

  Mila chuckled and set it down next to her. “You should be more observant of your surroundings,” she said. “Had you not told Rachel to get off me when you did, it would’ve been just a few more moments before I pulled the knife on her.”

  I tightened the grip on my gun, ready to defend myself if need be.

  “You wouldn’t try anything,” she said, her tone changing. “If I don’t report back soon, a group from Brinn will be sent out looking for me. When they find out that the Knights of Jefferson killed me from their high horses, you’ll have the Roves and my people hunting for you.”

  “Nobody ever said anything about killing,” I said, trying to bring the situation back under control. “That’s exactly why I got Rachel off you. I have no problem with Brinn and don’t want to start any. In fact, we could use your help.”

  “We what?” Daniel asked from behind me.

  I turned and looked up at him. “Yes, we could.” I turned back to Mila who looked at me, enjoying every moment. “We can’t just stay out here, especially not this close to the Roves.”

  “Awww, poor baby feels scared without his Wall and bullets?”

  “Right now, all I need is one,” I said, motioning toward my rifle. I was fed up with her being so condescending. Asking her for help was hard enough, I didn’t need her childish jabs.

  She rolled her eyes but said nothing more.

  “If we could use Brinn as a base of operations while we plan our retaliation, maybe use some of your supplies and people, it’d be very beneficial for the both of us.”

  “Oh yeah? How so?” Mila asked.

  I smiled and gave her a smug smile. I knew I was about to play my checkmate. “We’d reward you for your generosity, of course. Maybe spare you some of those munitions you’re so jealous of?”

  Mila scoffed and looked away. “Yeah, if there’s any left once the Roves get through with it,” she said, although with not as much snark as her earlier comments.

  “It’s a good plan,” John said. “Everybody wins, and the Roves lose.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “We’d drive the Roves away. Brinn wouldn’t be in danger from them, and if they ever did, not only would you have more weapons and ammunition to defend yourselves with, but we’d owe you one.”

  Mila perked up. She definitely liked the idea of us owing her and her people one. She smiled and nodded. “It’s not up to me, but I think that you and my people would be able to negotiate something that would be mutually beneficial,” she said, as if the whole thing was her idea.

  “Well, good then,” I said as I stood.

  I reached down to help her up, but Mila stood up on her own.

  “We’ll stay here tonight,” she said. “The journey to Brinn isn’t safe at night, with so many more zombies out.”

  “Sounds good, then,” I said. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE SUN’S warm morning rays filtered through the blinds of the general manager’s office of the car lot, waking me from me sleep. I sat up in the chair I slept in that was sitting in front of the office door, and reached for my assault rifle, making sure it was still there.

  I looked around and saw that everybody else was already awake and packing, save for the injured. Julia lay on the couch, still asleep. Her color was beginning to return, and Rachel said it probably wouldn’t get infected. Thankfully the bullet had a clean entry and exit wound, so there was no bullet inside of her. The wound on my leg was a clear example of that.

  I pulled up my pants’ leg and inspected the gauze and bandage that wrapped around my calf. A mixture of browns and reds had soaked through the bandage and dried. I would need a clean wrapping before we left, as long as there was enough left over once Julia’s bandages were taken care of. I rolled my pants’ leg back down and stood up.

  Peter was the first person I made eye contact with. He smiled at me, his face glazed over. “Morning,” he mumbled.

  I chuckled. “Morning, Peter.”

  Peter chuckled to himself, and then returned to his own little world.

  Rachel walked up beside me and laughed. “He’s so out of it.”

  I nodded my head. “You give him some of the painkillers?”

  “Yeah, I figured it might be a bumpy ride, so without the meds he’d be in a lot of pain.”

  I looked at the splint that Rachel made for his arm. She broke some office chairs and then taped them a
round his arm so he’d keep it straight. Then, using one of the extra T-shirts Daniel brought, she’d made a sling for him to put his arm in. I was impressed with Rachel’s ingenuity.

  “Is everybody almost ready?” I asked.

  Daniel put his backpack on and nodded his head, while John was putting the last of his things away.

  “My Range Rover is out back,” Mila said as she put her bag over her shoulder. “We should be able to fit everybody in there.”

  I quickly grabbed my bags and made sure my assault rifle was loaded and ready, just in case we ran into any problems. “Okay,” I said once I was ready.

  “Let’s go,” Mila said before I could get the chance to. She walked past me, moved my chair out of the way, opened the door, and disappeared out the hallway.

  I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go,” I said, somewhat defeated.

  * * *

  The car bumped up and down as we drove over some of the many potholes that littered the highway on the way toward Brinn.

  “The roads are better the closer we get to Brinn. We do our best to keep those maintained, we just don’t have supplies to take care of all these roads,” Mila said.

  I sat in the front seat, gripping the handle that sat above the window. My seatbelt stretched tight across me, keeping me from bumping up and down. I said nothing in response to Mila, I just kept my gaze straight ahead, trying to ignore the painful headache that racked my brain. Each bump sent another jolt of pain shooting through my head like an arrow.

  We drove by a pack of zombies that congregated around the corpse of a dead deer, tearing its flesh apart. Some of them turned to look at us as we went by, but turned back to their meal.

  “You get many zombies around here?” I asked.

  “There’s been an uptick recently, but not usually, no. It’s nothing we can’t handle,” Mila responded, her face staying as stone cold as her voice.

  “What do you do to keep them away? Shoot them?” John asked.