Tribes Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 1)

by Michael W. Garza

  “You lead,” Garret said. “I’m not going to end up like Darian, looking for you in the dark.”

  The remark was particularly harsh and Rowan had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping back. He slipped ahead of Barrick and caught Garret in the chest with his elbow as he past him on the stairs. Rowan kept moving, not wanting to give Garret time to make a fight of it. They were running a moment later, bounding up the stairs, pausing at each landing to make sure there wasn’t anyone or anything waiting for them.

  All of the doors leading into the stairway were barred from the inside. The building had no doubt been the last holding ground of some long lost group foolish enough to try to make a stand. The city was filled with the remnants of man, most of them now among the infected or the undead. There were others living in the city outside of the tribe and those drifters were often times the most dangerous encounters.

  The door to the roof opened with a loud screech. Rowan stepped out on to the blacktop and immediately drew his bow, holding the string back as he scanned the flat surface. Garret and Barrick moved out from behind him and the trio cleared the rooftop. Figures dotted the tops of the closest buildings all around them. Rowan found Arkin on the far side of the adjacent building, his eyes focused on the clearing. Rowan put his bow away and crept closer to the edge. He looked out beyond the remaining city block at the wide, lush lowland. He scanned the overgrown field all the way to the distant forest border. Rowan could barely breathe.

  The grassland was alive in a way none of them could have imagined it. The horror of what Rowan and Darian saw was in full view. The infected had laid siege on the edge of the city, taking over the buildings as they went. A sudden gasp for air from Garret told Rowan that he was not alone in his horror.

  “How could there be so many?”

  Rowan didn’t have an answer to the question. He was drawn to movement along the roofs of several of the buildings ahead of them. In a sudden panic, he looked down at the streets. Dark figures rushed from one building to the next and the vision was highlighted by a scream from somewhere in the distance behind them. Rowan’s concern turned to what only he knew.

  “Mia.”

  ♦

  Rowan tripped at the top of the first flight of stairs, but managed to keep himself upright by grabbing a hold of the railing. Garret was yelling at him from the top of the building, but Rowan’s mind was moving too fast to piece together the warning. He got down on the ground floor in a matter of seconds with no thought for his own safety. Another scream spurred him to move faster than his mind could process what he was doing.

  There was enough light to push back most of the shadows covering the street. Rowan saw movement rushing toward him from the buildings lining the edge of the city. He turned his back on them, his heart pounding in his ears. Rowan was focused on the last place he saw her.

  It was the dead-speak that let him know what was chasing him. He’d been right about the infected. The tribe would have to believe him, but none of that mattered now. Mia was in trouble and that single thought kept him moving. He raced through two intersections and slowed before he reached a building on the corner. He was aware of the movement behind him, but it was the shadows ahead that grabbed his attention.

  “Rowan.”

  He leapt forward at the sound of Mia’s cry. She was across the street, running wildly; one hand grasping a knife dripping with blood. Two figures lay slumped over in the middle of the road with two more sprinting after her. Rowan fired twice, both arrows finding their mark. One of the infected fell back and slammed onto the weed-covered pavement. The shafts of the projectiles buried deep into the pale skin, but the man was already picking himself up off the ground.

  The second figure crossed into the morning light and revealed itself as a woman. Her naked skin exuded the violet stains of her heinous acts, highlighted by the dark veins pumping the infection through her body. The woman closed in on Mia with unmatchable speed, but before Rowan could act, his damsel saved herself.

  Mia spun around with considerable force, bringing her knife across her body as she did. The blade caught the infected woman near the temple, the tip popping out the other side of her head. The woman froze for a moment, before her head slid off the blade and her body collapsed onto the ground. Rowan reached the man before he could get off the ground, sliding his knife beneath the base of his skull. He reached Mia a second later. Rowan tried to throw his arms around her, but she pushed him away, and then rushed back in the direction she’d come.

  “I can’t find him.”

  The sudden realization that Jonah was missing threw Rowan into a desperate panic. He looked back and forth along the street, unable to decide which way he should go. His eyes found a growing pack of infected racing toward them and he knew they had to move. He reached Mia in a few long strides, grabbed her by the arm and pulled. She started running with him, but the terror quickly consumed them.

  “We have to find him,” she screamed as tears ran down her cheeks. “I can’t leave him out here alone.”

  “Where was he?”

  Mia tugged against his grip, but he refused to let her go.

  “They rushed us from the other end of the building,” she explained. “I didn’t see them until they were right on top of us.”

  Rowan eyed the far end of the street and aimed them toward it. Sunlight had worked its way over the rising structures, but it gave no hint as to the whereabouts of the lost boy. They reached the next intersection and Rowan forced himself to stop. The echoing dead-speak grew louder by the second as the trailing group of infected appeared to double in size with every glance. A shifting movement several blocks to the north that caught his eye.

  “Jonah.”

  Rowan started off again, this time with a target in mind. He wasn’t certain if the figure was Jonah, but he guessed that if it was one of the infected that it was chasing something or someone. The sound of a fight erupted behind them and Rowan knew the hunting party had entered the fray. He didn’t want to consider how furious Arkin was going to be when he discovered that his children were out in the streets.

  The chase continued until they reached the last row of buildings. The sight of the decrepit road coming to an abrupt end was a shocking reminder of how far from safety they truly were. Rowan watched his target lunge into the high grass beyond the boundary and the yelp that followed caused him to push his legs to the brink. He came to a sliding stop where the concrete cracked and Mia nearly bowled into him from behind.

  “What are you—?”

  “Hush,” he said, sliding a finger to his lips. He scanned the edge of the grass before finally acknowledging her desire to press forward. “Whoever it was,” he whispered, “they’ve stopped moving.”

  Every member of the tribe had a fear of the city boundary. All of their lives they’d been warned that the outlands beyond the city belonged to the infected. Rowen eyed the towering grass, the imposing stalks standing taller than him by at least a foot. He hesitated as he tried to gather his courage.

  “Jonah’s in there,” Mia said. “We can’t leave him.”

  Rowan swallowed hard and forced himself to take a step forward. He tightened his grip around the hilt of his knife, squeezing until his knuckles turned white. It took several steps to reach the grass. Rowan took one last look at Mia’s anxious face then pulled the grass apart and walked into the outlands.

  4

  The tall grass absorbed the sounds of the dead city. The moment Rowan disappeared within the towering meadow, he felt disconnected from the world he’d known all his life. He’d never known anyone who’d ventured beyond the boundary except for the wanderers who claimed no allegiance to any of the tribes. Few of the wanderers remained and the tribes avoided most at all costs.

  Every step resonated in Rowan’s mind like a stomping giant. He was holding his breath and the heat built in his chest until he was forced to let it out. Rowan didn’t know what he was looking for, nor was he certain Jonah had come this way. He held hi
s knife out in front of his chest, ready to strike at the first sign of movement. In the end, a low, hoarse sound caused him to stop.

  It took a moment to piece the clatter together, but as best as he could tell, someone was talking. It was low, barely a whisper. Rowan focused in on the source and continued cautiously, sweeping the grass aside before every step. The sound grew louder and the words filtered in and out.

  “Go ahead.”

  Rowan froze again.

  “Red…go…”

  He scanned the grass line, finding no sign of movement, but the speaker continued sporadically.

  “Report.”

  Rowan took another series of steps and stopped. His pause had little to do with the stream of conversation and more to do with a clear sign of fresh blood. The grass parted at an open row running east and west. Rowan’s eyes were on a streak of crimson several feet down from where he stepped out. The voice spoke again and focused Rowan’s eyes on a spot beyond the blood.

  “Return and…”

  The words died abruptly, replaced by a continuous hushing noise. Rowan looked down both ends of the gap before risking a step out into the open. He crossed the small clearing with a few paces and pushed in behind the bloodstained grass. He found the source of the noise in one quick glance.

  A small black device lay on the ground, one end marked with blood. Rowan reached for it and the hushing noise cut off the moment he picked it up. It was heavier than he thought it should be with a series of small buttons across the top of one side. He flipped it over and discovered the other side cracked down the center. He shook it, but couldn’t get the sound to return. Rowan was about to toss the thing back on the ground when it suddenly sparked to life in a way he couldn’t possibly imagine.

  “Come in red two.”

  An astonishing fright caused Rowan to leap backwards, dropping the contraption as he did. He forgot all about the figure he was chasing for a moment. All he could think of was a single question. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the same question rolling around in his mind come echoing over his shoulder.

  “Did that thing just talk?”

  Rowan spun around to find Mia’s face peeking out through the grass into the clearing. Her eyes weren’t on him, instead focused on the thing he’d found.

  “Get over here,” he said. Mia stepped out and rushed to his side, her eyes still on the ground. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted and then scooped it up. “Whatever it is, it isn’t helping me find your brother.” He slipped it into his pack and grabbed her hand. “Stay close to me.”

  They hadn’t taken more than a few steps before a new spectacle caused them to pause. It was a boot or at least the bottom of one. The muddy sole stuck out between two patches of grass. Rowan held still for a long time, even as Mia tried to push past him. He could tell by the size of the boot that it wasn’t Jonah. He made Mia stay where she was and decided to get a closer look.

  Rowan crouched low toward the ground and pushed the grass aside. He heard Mia gasp as she crept up behind him and they caught sight of what was left of a man lying in the mud. He was dressed a bizarre set of shirt and pants, comprised of a dizzying number of small, stitched squares in the color families of green, brown, and black. There wasn’t much to look at above the collar. Most of the flesh around the skull was peeled away. The fresh blood said the kill was recent, but it didn’t explain why the attackers weren’t still feeding. Most important, the discovery wasn’t going to help them find Jonah. Both problems were solved a moment later.

  “Rowan?”

  He heard his whispered name a split second before two faces pushed out into the open on the other side of the body lying on the ground. Jonah’s terrified eyes locked on to Rowan before snapping toward another face pressing between the tall stalks of grass beside him. The infected man announced himself with a vicious roar and the eruption sent a striking panic through the unsuspecting onlookers.

  The violet lines beneath its dying skin pulsated with craving excitement as the infected man came to his feet. His abhorrent body was exposed in the light, revealing the details of the crisscrossing veins that marked its kind. The smears of blood and clumps of skin spread across his face gave the beast away as the recent feeder. He grabbed a hold of Jonah’s shirt before the boy’s mind could process what was happening.

  Rowan leapt forward without a thought for his own safety. His jump flung him directly into the side of the infected man and the impact dropped both of them directly on top of Jonah. Rowan tried to get to his knees, but the infected man was too quick, grabbing a hold of him and Jonah at with both hands. Rowan felt his leg yank out from under him and a second later he was lying on his back with Jonah kicking him in the face as the boy tried to run away.

  A flood of screams from Jonah mixed with his sister’s cries. Rowan came face to face with the creature as it crawled on top of him. He reached out, pushing Jonah away from the infected man as it lunged in for a bite. Rowan got his hand up on its chest before its rotting teeth could take a chunk out of his face. It wasn’t until that moment that Rowan realized he’d dropped his knife sometime between his heroic jump and his less than impressive landing.

  The rage-filled strength of the thing was far beyond Rowan’s and he knew at once that he couldn’t hold him off for more than a few seconds. Its jaws snapped over and again, each time drawing closer to Rowan’s skin. Lines of saliva dripped from its lips, crossing Rowan’s cheeks as it forced itself down on him. A foul stench poured out of its mouth and saturated every inch of the small, open space.

  Rowan was pinned. He turned his head to keep himself from getting eaten. The infected man finally won the war of attrition then it suddenly shuddered and roared in pain. Rowan saw his knife dug deep into its side as he scrambled to get out from under the infected man. Jonah held on to the hilt of the knife with his eyes impossibly wide. He pulled the blade free and then jabbed it in again, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “Get off him!”

  Rowan got to his knees, but couldn’t react fast enough to stop the infected’s response. The creature lashed out, hitting Jonah across the face with the back of his hand. It was up on its feet a second later, its bloodstained, naked body exposed for all to see. It lunged for the boy and Jonah stood frozen, his face etched in the horror consuming his mind.

  Mia knocked Rowan to the ground. She hit the infected man squarely in the back with the full force of her slender body. She clung to the vile thing, riding him to the ground, beating on its head with vicious blows, and stabbing it in the neck with her blade. The creature lay motionless by the time Rowan got to her, its head drowning in a pool of blood. Mia stared down at the body, sucking in gulps of air. Rowan pulled her away, grabbing Jonah as they turned. He got down on a knee and stared the boy in the eyes, forcing him to look away from the infected.

  “We made a lot of noise,” he explained in a measured tone. “There will be more of them and we can’t let them surround us.”

  Jonah didn’t say anything, but he managed a nod. He opened his hand and held out Rowan’s knife. The boy’s gaze was miles away, lost somewhere in the horror of what he’d done. Rowan took the knife and gave him a confident grin.

  “We’re going to be all right,” he added for good measure. “Take your sister’s hand and stay close.”

  Mia’s eyes were as wild as her brother’s, but she appeared to be able to keep it together. Rowan was struck by the image of her; in one hand she held on to the knife that brought the infected man down, her arm stained in crimson up to the elbow, and in the other hand she held on to the frightened boy. He motioned for them to go, and the trio pushed out into the open row in the tall grass and set their sights on the edge of the city and the buildings that promised some small measure of protection.

  They only managed a few steps before a new sound echoed over the top of the grass. The low guttural moan brought with it a chilling effect. The dead were closing in and it was impossible to tell which direction they were coming from.
Rowan moved in close to Mia, keeping Jonah between them. The chorus of moans grew louder with every step. The grass shifted from side to side all around them and the fear built in Rowan’s mind until he was unable to control it.

  “Go!”

  Rowan forced them to run, pushing both from behind. Hands reached out for them from all sides, pressing through the grass, trying to grab hold of anything. The death chant rose to a furious crescendo as the longing for flesh overcame the unseen mass. Hunched as low to the ground as she could manage, Mia burst out into the open screaming wildly. Jonah reached the end of the road next and was nearly run over by Rowan as he made his escape.

  The dead poured out of the grassland like an invading army. Half-eaten bodies staggered between those lucky enough to die with the full use of their limbs. A number of organs dragged along the ground as the first wave reached the street. Rowan spun around long enough to know he had to keep them moving.

  ♦

  The clouds parted and the light washed over the dead city as a wave of heat overtook the roadways. Mia kept to the center of the street. She never let go of Jonah’s hand nor did she bother to see if anything was following them. Rowan shouted out directions from time to time, keeping them on course. He waited until he was certain that they’d escaped the trailing pack of undead before his thoughts turned to Arkin and the hunting party he’d left behind. Rowan was convinced that Mia and Jonah had to reach the safety of the tribe before anyone knew they were missing.

  “I have to stop.”

  The declaration from Jonah was quickly followed by a projection of everything the boy had in his stomach. He bent at the waist, spewing onto the street as Mia stood beside him, gently rubbing his back. Rowan’s eyes were on the view behind them. He couldn’t hear the chorus of the dead or the dreadful speak of the infected, but there was no way to be certain that they were safe. Rowan hadn’t processed anything he’d seen and the sudden break in the hurried commotion brought with it a review of recent events.