Devour: Death & Decay Book 1

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Devour: Death & Decay Book 1 Page 1

by R. L. Blalock




  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and events in this book are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  © Copyright 2015 by R. L. Blalock

  All rights reserved. Neither this book, nor any parts within it may be sold or reproduced without permission.

  Cover Artwork by Biserka

  Editing by Scott Alexander Jones

  ISBN: 978-1532988509

  ASIN: B01IOPZ156

  For my daughter, Addy,

  Always know that your dreams are possible.

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people who have helped me out along the way. If I acknowledged all of them, we’d be here for days.

  Rachel: My best friend. My writing soulmate. Your encouragement has been everything. From writing weird—and, let’s admit it, crappy—stories in middle school to having our careers now, I couldn’t have done it without you.

  Craig: My other best friend. My loving and supportive husband who calms the beast when I panic and celebrates my successes with me. Without your support, I could never have accomplished this.

  Mom & Dad: Thank you for the support you have always given me in everything I do. And please don’t judge me by my writing. I promise I’m mostly mentally stable. I love you!

  Everyone else: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I couldn’t be happier with what I’m doing, and I couldn’t have done it without you

  Day 5

  2:31 pm

  The branches of the trees reached for Olivia like sharpened claws. Each one tore at her matted, coffee-colored hair and the thick, protective layers of clothing that covered her body. They scratched at her face as she crashed through the forest of silver maple and black oak in an attempt to escape the ferals.

  Leaves and twigs in the underbrush crunched under her feet like fireworks. A messenger bag with the few supplies she had left slapped her left thigh, punctuating each step.

  Her breath wheezed in and out raggedly as she struggled to breathe. White-hot pain seared through her side as she drew in each short breath. One of her ribs was broken.

  Her ivory skin was caked with blood and filth. The ill-fitting brown leather jacket and the jeans that were a size too big were not her own. She didn’t know who they had previously belonged to. Though Liv had never been slim, in a few short days she could already tell her frame was a few pounds lighter.

  The heavy layers made her skin sticky with sweat in the June humidity that the Midwest was known for. Without them, though, she would have been dead days ago.

  Lack of food. Lack of sleep. Too much running. Her body had readily consumed the precious energy it had stored.

  Behind her, horrors that Liv would never have thought possible outside of the movies reached for her. With one bite, they could take away everything. After five days of running for her life, though, nothing was impossible.

  Now she was finally close to her salvation.

  The family-owned farm spanned two hundred and fifty acres. It was self-sufficient and located far enough outside of Troy to hopefully be defendable. Though she wasn’t sure what she would find when she got there, now it was her only hope.

  A wail from just over Liv’s shoulder spurred her exhausted muscles to move faster. The journey had been excruciating, testing the limits of her mental and physical capabilities. When exhaustion crept in, she had persevered for the little creature that cried on her back.

  The eighteen-month-old bundle of endless joy and worry was Liv’s daughter Elisa. Elli let out another ear-piercing shriek, a sound that could only be made in the grips of pure terror. Elli had become Liv’s sole purpose for survival. She would not let Elli suffer the horrific fate that so many others had succumbed to.

  The trees broke and now Liv was sprinting through an open field filled with knee-high, dried Johnson grass, the tapered feathery heads shedding dust along her clothes.

  Figures moved around on the far side of the field near a large, gray brick farmhouse. At first, she wasn’t sure if they were human or feral. Then they began to point frantically in her direction and scramble about.

  Human.

  A wild laugh escaped her lips. Her legs felt like lead and her lungs burned, but they were here. Four of the figures had broken away from the house and were headed her direction.

  Suddenly, a jerk from behind spun Liv around. Without thought, her arm flew up to protect her face. The creature latched on and a scream ripped from her throat as teeth sank into her forearm.

  Liv was face to face with one of them, a feral. A pack of ten or twelve had been trailing them for an hour. She had come across the horde on the western edge of Troy and had been forced to sprint the rest of the way to Slag Stead.

  Pearly-white teeth smiled at her from where the man’s cheek had once been. Now, the skin on his face was missing from where his left ear would have been all the way to the bottom of his jaw.

  It had been torn away the same way he now tried to tear a chunk from her arm. His sandy-blond hair was streaked with blood and grime. His eyes looked in her direction but didn’t seem to see her. They were as blank and lifeless as a doll. In life, this man must have been physically fit because he moved fast for a feral. He had pushed Liv further and faster than she had ever thought she could run.

  As he tried to pull her over, she reached for the screwdriver strapped to her left thigh and jammed it into his eye. After a split second of resistance, the bony socket gave way and the screwdriver sank in to the handle. The man immediately went limp and fell to the ground, taking the weapon with him.

  Suddenly disarmed, Liv scrambled to pull the heavy mallet from her belt. She turned and swung at a feral woman whose outstretched arms reached for her. The woman’s face was twisted in a vicious snarl as she lunged for Liv. It was impossible to see beyond the savage expression to the person that lay beneath it.

  Blood darkened the fingernails of her left hand. The right arm ended at her wrist, white bone gleaming beneath a knot of crusted blood and dirt. The mallet didn’t hit its mark. Instead, it smashed into the woman’s shoulder. She spun and fell to the ground.

  Liv raised the mallet again with uncomfortable ease and brought it down squarely on the woman’s head. Over the past five days, the act was something she had done more times than she could count.

  As she dispatched the two ferals, the people from the farm had made quick work of the rest. They quickly surveyed the makeshift battlefield and ensured the ferals were truly dead. Liv’s eyes wandered across the haphazard bodies and she knew that she should have been horrified by the sight.

  Except, she wasn’t.

  Exhaustion took hold. Liv’s legs gave out and she fell to her knees. The last five days had not only been filled with horror and fear but also perpetual motion, with only a few hours of sleep at best. Every inch of her body ached from numerous mishaps and run-ins with the ferals. However, she was here. Slag Stead. A place that could provide sanctuary in a world filled to the brim with terror and pain.

  The unmistakable metallic clink of a gun hammer being cocked snapped Liv back into her surroundings. She looked up into the black barrel of a pump-action shotgun held by weathered hands. Dirt had worked itself into the lines of the fingers, callouses, and work-hardened skin. The hands were attached to a gruff man in his fifties. He was tall and beefy with short reddish-brown hair peppered with gray and a matching beard that rested against his broad chest. His face and arms were leathery and tanned from too much time in the sun. Liv suspected that if he had a mind to, the man could throw her like a rag doll.

  As imposing as this man seemed, his eyes were filled with s
adness as he looked down at her.

  “If you hand over your child, we’ll take care of him like he was our own and we’re better off here than most.” His words were deliberate and detached. “Your child will be safe here, but you’ve been bitten and there’s nothing we can do for you now besides offer you a quick death.”

  Liv released the mallet she’d been holding tightly in her hands and placed her palms on her knees. She hoped this would be taken as a sign of compliance because she wasn’t sure she could hold them up. “Please just wait a minute,” her voice quivered.

  Her heart sped up again. Perhaps it had never slowed. Perhaps it never would. Until it stopped for good.

  Day 1

  5:17 pm

  “You shouldn’t have come.” Colin’s words weren’t harsh, but true.

  “I needed to get out.” Liv shrugged nonchalantly. She hoisted Elli up onto her hip. The little girl’s fine, toffee-colored hair was matted with chunks of graham cracker. Even at its best, it always looked like she had just woken up. Her hair was long enough now that it started to curl ever so slightly at her neck and the sides of her round face, but not nearly long enough for Liv to do anything more than try to straighten it out with a brush. “I really didn’t want to just sit at home tonight.”

  Elli squirmed in Liv’s arms, too distracted by the unfamiliar environment to sit still. The mere hour here hadn’t given her enough time to explore. Her big, chocolate-brown eyes tried to take in everything at once.

  “Just be careful on your way home,” Colin sighed. Colin was only a couple inches taller than Liv, with a thin, wiry frame. His dark-brown hair was cut short and matched the dark brown of his eyes.

  Once a week, Liv made a point of bringing Elli out to Chesterfield to the videogame store where Colin worked so they could all have lunch together. It was a drive. The store was about thirty minutes from their home, though it seemed to take longer with Elli howling in the backseat. The time always seemed to come and go quicker than it should.

  The visits had come to a halt a few weeks ago, though. Protesting and rioting were everywhere. Half a dozen brutal shootings of unarmed civilians had left St. Louis in turmoil.

  Someone had captured one of these incidents with their phone. The video had instantly gone viral. The incident was already well underway when the video started. The video showed two uniformed officers mercilessly beating a man with their batons.

  Somehow, he had continued to rise. After a few quick seconds, the man, bloody and bruised, lunged forward and wrapped his arms tightly around one of the officer’s legs. The officer screamed as his partner jumped back, drawing and firing his weapon in one fluid motion. In the span of a few seconds, the officer unloaded his entire clip into the man.

  The video had lasted all of thirty seconds. Liv had watched it through her fingers, cringing with every strike and gunshot.

  When the video emerged, the tensions in St. Louis finally boiled over. Protesters gathered around stations, lobbing bricks and other debris through the windows. The riots cropped up at seemingly random locations.

  This morning, the news had spoken about an especially bloody riot that had taken place at Mercy Hospital. Dozens injured and several dead, at least. The numbers were rough and the information was sketchy at best.

  The police had set upon the hospital with every ounce of firepower they had and squashed the riot in under an hour. The large display of force had only further enraged the protesters.

  Liv shook her head, trying to wipe away the thoughts of what was happening.

  “Will you actually come home at eight?” Liv said, tension creeping into her voice. “You shouldn’t stay out late either.” They had such little time together. It was infuriating that he never seemed to leave the store on time.

  “I’ll try my best, but if they’re busy I can’t just leave,” Colin said tightly. Liv gritted her teeth in frustration but managed to hold back the angry words that rose in her throat.

  He walked them out to the car. Despite the sun nearing the horizon, the heat was sweltering and the humidity was oppressive. Colin strapped Elli into her car seat. Liv sighed and let the issue slip away.

  “Buh-bye!” Elli called. Liv watched as Elli nuzzled Colin’s shoulder and gave him a farewell kiss.

  “Thanks for coming.” He smiled and gave Liv a quick kiss. “I always enjoy seeing my two favorite ladies.” He tried to smooth over the tension between them.

  She smiled back, leaning into Colin as she wrapped her arms around him. “I just wish we had more time together than lunch breaks.” Liv was still in college. Elli had come along as a bit of a surprise. Now they worked opposite schedules so that they could care for Elli while Liv finished her degree.

  “Me too.” Colin pulled her into a hug. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Liv gave Colin another quick kiss as she got into the car. “I’ll see you at home.” She waved through the window as she pulled out of the parking lot.

  The night would go by quickly. It always did. Once they got home, Elli would need a bath to rinse off the assortment of food she had collected throughout the day. The house needed to be picked up. Liv would have to lay out her school supplies and work clothes for the next day. Finally, Elli would have to be put to bed.

  Being in school was difficult with Elli. Liv was in her second semester of the nursing program and it was grueling. She had always been a good student, but she had never worked so hard to keep her grades up before. There was so much to learn. And so many things depended upon her knowing just the right facts.

  The worst part was she was hardly ever home with Elli. She would often sit at a coffee shop all day, pouring over the huge stack of schoolbooks and homework while downing more coffee than she was sure was healthy. It was exhausting.

  Elli’s excitement had quickly turned to protesting screams as Liv and Colin said goodbye in the parking lot, but the small child calmed down shortly after the car started moving. Car rides were always a dice roll. Sometimes they went without so much as a peep. Other times, though, she would scream bloody murder until it was over. Elli was a good kid, but she liked interaction, and long car rides were not her idea of a good time.

  Shortly after getting on the highway, traffic began to slow down. Just after the Boone Bridge carried them over the Missouri River, the traffic stopped altogether. Liv sighed and looked at the clock. It would have been about the right time for the evening rush hour if it hadn’t been Saturday. The jam had probably been caused by an accident. Selfishly, she hoped it wasn’t too bad. It was less of a concern for the safety of others and more of a desire to get home.

  Liv’s eyes drifted across the window. Red brake lights glared at her through the windshield. She sat among a sea of immobile vehicles. Even beyond the cars, there wasn’t much to look at. On either side, the highway was bordered by tall, sun-dried wild grass speckled with tiny purple flowers. Beyond the grass stood tall, old oak trees that blocked out the rest of the gently rolling landscape. The deep, dark green of their leaves vibrant against the dried grass.

  Liv picked up her phone from the cup holder, opened one of the social media apps that cluttered the home screen, and began skimming through the posts. More and more of her newsfeed had begun to fill with pictures of other children, as many of her friends now had children of their own. Between the little smiling faces, articles cropped up. “7 of the Craziest Stories from Fast Food Workers” or “10 Amazing Ways to Declutter Your Apartment” and other mildly entertaining articles. Many of the articles that filled her newsfeed discussed the riots. She skimmed past them, as almost none of them ever said anything useful.

  “New Viral Outbreak in St. Louis.” Liv frowned and clicked on the article.

  In the back, Elli began to squawk again. Not quite screams, but letting her disapproval be known. In her opinion, the car had been stationary for too long, even though it had only been a couple of minutes. This meant it was time to bring up her complaints about the car seat once again.

&
nbsp; Liv dropped the phone back in the cup holder as she fished around blindly in the diaper bag for something to entertain the enraged tot.

  A loud thumping cut through the drone of the radio. Liv turned the volume down and glanced out the windows, anxiously looking for the source. A large, black helicopter raced over the cars, following the line of traffic.

  Liv sucked in a breath. It was flying incredibly low. Barely a few stories higher than the vehicles. Up ahead, the helicopter suddenly banked into a tight circle above the highway. The hairs on the back of Liv’s neck raised as she watched the helicopter circle around.

  This wasn’t an accident. So what was it? Another riot?

  Liv’s gut churned and she wished she had stayed home. She internally chastised herself for her recklessness. It was dangerous. Why had she thought it was a good idea to travel halfway across the city?

  The radio had been turned down low, but something managed to catch Liv’s attention. She cranked up the volume to hear over Elli howling.

  “…St. Joseph Hospital West, Barnes-Jewish St. Peters Hospital, and Mercy Hospital. Again, all patients are urged to seek medical attention elsewhere, if they can. For the time being, ambulances are being rerouted. Folks, I’ll do my best to keep you updated. At the moment, authorities are unsure as to the cause of these riots, but these areas are just not safe.” The concern in the man’s voice made Liv uncomfortable. St. Louis had its share of trouble, but she couldn’t imagine any reason for riots at a hospital, let alone multiple hospitals across the city. More than anything, she wanted to be out of this traffic and at home building block towers for Elli to knock over and eating tiny plastic food.

  Elli’s cries began to escalate once again. She didn’t take kindly to being ignored. Liv put the car in park, unbuckled her seatbelt, and turned around to fish for a binky or maybe a toy out of the diaper bag. As she groped through the bag, movement caught the corner of her eye. A woman was running between the cars against the flow of traffic. Liv frowned and swung herself around to face forward again, the small treasures forgotten.

 

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