by Jenika Snow
Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2015 Jenika Snow
ISBN: 978-1-77233-569-9
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This is to all the readers that asked for more in the Savages series.
BLACKBIRD’S FALL
Savages, 3
Jenika Snow
Copyright © 2015
Preface
It was a flu vaccine that collapsed civilization, which destroyed humanity.
What was supposed to help prevent a simple virus ended up being the cure for cancer. It had been hailed worldwide as a miracle, a medical breakthrough, one where the scientists had thought they had come across something monumental. They had, but what they brought to humans was a hell on earth. The ones who had gotten the vaccine started exhibiting signs of cannibalism and necrosis immediately. The infection was far too advanced and spread too quickly for a cure to be created.
Everyone thought they were safe if they stayed away and waited for the sickness to die off. The scientists and physicians refused to take responsibility for what they’d done, what they had created. They thought they were helping people, curing something that up until then was incurable.
They’d been wrong.
The infected had the ability to contaminate others through bite and scratch, and the virus spread at a monumental rate. They were not simply the sick, but the “infected”, becoming crazed, hungry for human flesh.
They were no longer considered human by any means. They were, in every sense, walking corpses.
The virus slowly killed them from the inside out, made their flesh rot, every orifice bleed, and all logical reasoning vanish. The infected focused only on the primal need to feed.
This was the world they lived in now, tried to survive in with each passing day. Starvation, death, rape, and being hunted by the infected were the world now, and the ones standing, the healthy, needed to be the strongest, and have no remorse in doing whatever they needed in order to survive.
Chapter One
The fall of civilization
It was the anarchy and chaos that were the most frightening at first, the fact humanity was slowly crumbling, and that nothing was ever going to be the same.
The news reports blared that people should go home and stay there until they got official word that everything was okay.
Maya knew it wasn’t going to be okay.
Those words were just something to placate society, to make everyone stay calm in an otherwise crazy situation. It was just something to keep everyone in line, but it wasn’t doing its job, not in the cities, at least.
There was no cure, would never be a cure, not given how fast the infection was being spread.
Bites.
Scratches.
Blood-borne infection.
That’s how it was spread. The healthy humans walking around with those little white paper masks probably thought they were safe, but they were far from it. That wouldn’t save them when the infection wasn’t airborne. The ones that thought they were safe were fools, especially when they got bitten, a chunk taken out of their body, and the infection pushed into their bloodstream and changed them from the inside out.
Maya had seen an infected, only once, but she knew as time passed that would change.
“Turn that off, sweetheart,” her father said from the bed.
Maya looked over at him, saw the ashen look on his face, the fact he had dark circles under his eyes, and that he was starting to bleed from his nose and mouth. She turned off the radio that was repeating an emergency broadcast about the infection, one that she’d heard countless times.
“How are you feeling?” she asked and moved toward him. The slight commotion of her mother in the kitchen couldn’t hide the noise coming from her father: the sound of dying.
He wheezed and pushed himself up on the bed. “How do I look?” he asked and tried to smile, but it looked weak, sickly.
“Honestly? Like shit.” She was teasing, but it was obviously the truth. Her father had always told her never to sugarcoat anything with him, that honesty was a genuine reaction.
Her father, before he got sick, had been full of life, always teasing, calling it like it was. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. To even think that he’d die, and most likely very soon, was too much for her. So Maya joked about it, and so did he. It was their way to cope.
He chuckled softly and reached for the glass of water beside him. She grabbed it before he could wrap his hand around it, held the straw for him, and brought it to his mouth. He took several long sips from the straw, but started to cough. Swirls of redness started to fill the glass, and she felt her chest clench painfully “I feel like shit.”
She grabbed a washcloth and dipped it in the cold water before wringing it out and bringing it to his mouth and wiping away the smear of blood. She cleaned it by repeating the action with the water, and placed the cloth on his forehead now. The silence stretched on as she didn’t respond to what he’d said. She didn’t want to acknowledge any of this, even if it was their reality and right in front of them. She was about to turn away and grab some fresh water when her father grabbed her arm gently, stopping her.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, and she told herself not to show emotion, not to break down right now. She knew what he was about to say, and as much as she didn’t want to hear it, she knew it was the truth, and the truth of the situation needed to be laid out.
“When it happens I want you to finish me off with my rifle, understand?”
She breathed out slowly and nodded.
“I don’t want to hurt you or your mother, or anyone else, and I don’t want to live like one of … those.”
Maya’s eyes were watering, but she didn’t let the tears fall. Her father had said this same statement over the last week, ever since he’d gone out to search for supplies for them and had gotten bitten.
Although they’d initially had food and water stocked up, had started stockpiling when they’d first heard about the infection rapidly spreading, among the three of them it was running low. That’s why her dad had gone out, despite Maya and her mother pleading with him to stay. Although there weren’t a lot of infected in the small town they lived in, what was more dangerous right now were the looters and rioters in the heart of town, and the ones migrating from the bigger cities. That’s what they’d been so worried about, but it seemed like it wasn’t the healthy that had gotten her dad, but the damn infected.
“I promise, Dad,” she said and sniffed, turning and grabbing the medical kit to look at his wound.
“I don’t like you even touching it, Maya,” her dad said, knowing what she was going to do. “There isn’t any point in cleaning it.”
She ignored his last comment. “You know it’s only spread through bites and scratches.”
“It’s blood-borne, sweetheart.”
“I’ll wear gloves, like I do every time. I’m not going to let it fester without trying to make you comfortable.”
Her dad smiled sadly, and didn’t argue anymore. Good, because she wouldn’t deviate from what she wanted to do.
“Here, honey,” her mother said as she walked into the room car
rying a bowl of steaming water. Her mom set it on the table and grabbed an apron. “Wear this, just in case.”
Maya put the apron on, triple-upped on the latex gloves, and pulled up the blanket. She exposed her father’s legs first, and continued lifting until she got to his thighs. He wore a pair of boxers, and the leg that had gotten the bite was patched with a thick, white bandage—one that was seeped through with black and red fluid. The smell was intense, that of rotting, decaying flesh. That was what happened with the infected, with someone who was bitten: the infection spread throughout their body quickly, turning usually happening within a week’s time.
The person rotted from the inside out … literally.
“Here,” her mother said and handed her a mask. “I don’t want any risk of you catching it.”
It wasn’t airborne, and although the likelihood of the blood or fluid getting into Maya’s mouth was low, she knew this had been her parents’ biggest fear since the infection spread. She was their only child, and with her father on the brink of turning, life seemed hopeless.
She held in her gag reflex as the wound was revealed. The bite mark had been nasty when he first got it, and now because of the infection spreading it was god-awful. Necrotic tissue was all the way around the wound, and spreading throughout his legs. Even the site of his veins, now black, was visible. There was blood and grey fluid oozing out, and the flesh that wasn’t grossly rotting was ashen, as if corpse-like.
She made quick work of cleaning it with peroxide and alcohol, of spreading ointment on it, and then bandaged it back up. Of course this wouldn’t heal or cure it, but she felt better knowing she was at least trying to keep it clean.
“How did it look?” her dad asked, but he sounded exhausted. When she looked at him she saw he had his eyes closed, the wear and tear of what was happening taking over him.
“The same,” she lied. It looked so much worse than it had just hours before. The infection was spreading fast.
“Even though my eyes are closed I can still tell when you’re lying.” Her father’s voice was distant, sleep taking control of him.
“Get some rest, Dad.”
Her father was asleep before she even got the rest of the words out.
“Come on, Maya. Let’s eat something.”
Maya followed her mom out of the room, shut the door behind her, and that’s when she couldn’t stop her tears. But she wiped them away, not wanting to start that floodgate.
“He won’t last much longer,” her mother said with a detached voice. She turned around and gestured for Maya to sit at the table.
Sherman, her old and greying black lab, came trotting into the kitchen and lay down by Maya’s feet. He was going on ten years, but he had a lot of energy and spirit still. She reached down and ran her hand over his head, scratching behind his ear.
Maya didn’t respond to her mother, because she knew that was the truth, but didn’t want to think about it. Her mother set some rationed food in front of her, and once Maya’s mom was seated they ate in silence. The sound of her father’s wheezing and gurgling as his lungs filled with the fluid, as he was dying, surrounded them.
This was her life, her reality, and the sooner she fully accepted that, the better chance she had of surviving.
Chapter Two
“This is fucked,” said Brandon, one of the scientists who had been working on the immunization from the ground up.
Marius was shoving items in a large backpack, intent on getting out of the bunker they’d been in for far longer than he could even comprehend.
Brandon was walking back and forth, pacing the small confines of the room. The underground bunker had been government issued, a place that held several scientists as they worked on a cure. But there was no cure, and despite telling the government officials that, informing the President that there was nothing that could be done, they’d still kept working. What else were they supposed to do this deep below the earth?
Besides, Marius didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to be a part of why humanity had fallen.
“We’ve done all we can, Brandon.” Marius kept his back to the other man as he shoved in bottles of water, canned and packaged food, and grabbed medical supplies.
“So you’re just leaving?”
Marius turned and faced Brandon. “I can’t stay here any longer. I need the fresh air, the sun. Besides, staying here with the supplies diminishing like they are will only make this our coffin.”
Brandon didn’t speak for several long moments.
“You can come with me. We can find a place above ground, try to find survivors, help them.”
Brandon shook his head. “I don’t want to run into those fuckers, Marius.” Brandon ran a hand over his face. “We already had to deal with that down here with Marie and Kyle.”
Just thinking about the two other scientists that had been put down here when they’d gotten infected made Marius sick. Marie had been infected with the virus when she’d accidently pricked herself with a needle, a rookie mistake that had cost Marie her life. But she hadn’t told anyone she was infected, and they hadn’t known until it was too late. She’d kept herself away from them as the infection ate away at her body, and when she finally did die and was resurrected as one of those walking corpses, she’d gone after Kyle.
Marius ran a hand over his face. He’d been the one to kill both of them before they got him or Brandon. It was something that had to be done, and he knew something he’d have to do above ground if he wanted to survive.
“Staying down here will be your ultimate death, Brandon. If you want to survive you need to get out while you can. If lack of food and water doesn’t kill you, the isolation will drive you insane.” Marius shook his head at the reality of that. “We haven’t heard any news from up above in weeks. That has to tell you something, tell you that we are now on our own.”
It took a moment for Brandon to move, or even speak, but he finally breathed out and nodded. “You’re right, I know that, and should be smart enough to understand it, but I can’t leave, Marius.”
Brandon was afraid, and rightly so, but staying down here really would bring about their deaths.
“What if we just get supplies and come back here?” Brandon sounded hopeful.
“Brandon, I need out of this fucking place. We’ve been down here for a long damn time, and I can’t take it anymore.” Marius grabbed the backpack and slipped it over his shoulders. He had his boots on, a couple changes of clothes, and, he hoped, enough food and fresh water packed that he could survive until he found something else.
“You’re welcome to come with me, to face the world above, but I can’t and won’t stay here.” Marius walked toward the man who had stood by him through all of this, since the very beginning. “I’ve left you enough food and water that you shouldn’t have to find any for a while, but Brandon,” he pleaded with the other man, “staying here will have you dying, too.”
Brandon sat down on the chair in front of Marius, and made this low, exhausted sound. “Good luck out there.”
And Marius knew Brandon wouldn’t come, not even with the knowledge that he would die down here if he didn’t at least try. The world anymore was hectic and deteriorating, but hiding in a bunker underground wasn’t the way to live, no matter what anyone said.
Marius held out his hand, and Brandon took it. The men shook, stayed silent, and then Marius nodded once, and turned to leave. He had to try to survive out there, try to see if he could help anyone. He knew about the virus, about every aspect of it—he’d been on the team that had helped create the initial vaccine, and that’s why he had such a sense of guilt after everything had fallen. He had to help, in any way he could, no matter what the risks were.
****
Maya didn’t know what had woken her at first, but as she opened her eyes her heart was already beating fast and hard. Sherman, who they kept in the room with them at night, started whimpering and scratching at the door. Maya turned her head to the side, saw the spot her mo
ther usually lay in was empty, and instantly sat up. Since everything had gone to shit she and her mom had been sharing a room, wanting to stay close. They’d set up her father in another bedroom, something he’d wanted, and the smart way to go given the fact he was sick.
“Mom?” Maya called out. There was silence in response, but after a moment the sound of something crashing came through, startling Maya.
Sherman started scratching on the door with more fervor, his growl low, threatening. She climbed out of bed, knowing something wasn’t right, and bent down to grab the baseball bat she had tucked underneath the bed. It hadn’t been planned to use on her father if he turned while they were asleep, because they kept their door locked and were “relatively” safe. They kept the door locked in case looters, rapists, or the humans that had gone insane because of the anarchy decided to break in.
She crept toward the door, reached out with her hand not holding the bat, and pulled it open slowly.
“Stay,” she whispered to Sherman. He whimpered again, but lay down, his face upward toward her. “Good boy.”
She opened the door a bit wider, and the old wood creaked slightly. Maya winced at the sound and held her breath, her pulse skyrocketing. The house was dark, but the sound of a crash from the kitchen told her all she needed to know. Maya’s heart raced, her muscles tightened, and the flight or fight instinct ran high in her.
She looked at her dog again. “Stay, Sherman,” she said once more, and stepped out into the hallway. Keeping her back to the wall, she tried to slow her breathing. She needed to be calm, to keep a level head. It wasn’t as though she was tough as nails, or one of those women that could take a man down. But Maya had grown up working on her grandfather’s farm and knew what it mean to stay strong in the face of a hectic, confused situation, and had always prided herself on using her brain in these matters.