The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  The Weak Shall Die:

  Complete Collection

  (Four Book Set)

  By

  Taylor Michaels

  Non-Fiction by Taylor Michaels

  Wine Cellar Construction: Tips and Techniques

  Wood Frame Greenhouse Construction: Tips and Techniques

  The World Traveler in Japan

  The World Traveler in France

  The World Traveler in Saudi Arabia,

  Bahrain, UAE and Egypt

  Novels by Taylor Michaels

  The American Wealth Wars

  The Sleeping Dragons of Texas

  Or The Teardrop of Death

  An American Wizard

  The Weak Shall Die: (Serial)

  The Gathering

  Prepping

  Surviving

  A New World

  The Weak Shall Die:

  Complete Collection

  Alien Possession: (Serial)

  Abduction

  Escape

  The Devastation of Earth

  Copyright 2015

  Taylor Michaels

  This novel is a work of fiction and is a product of the author's imagination. All people and places mentioned in this book are fictional. All persons depicted are imaginary, neither living nor dead. Any resemblance to actual people, places or events is coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  Rev. 1

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - The New Plague

  Chapter 2 - Spinning Backwards

  Chapter 3 - John Thompson

  Chapter 4 - The Inspector

  Chapter 5 - Ming Cho

  Chapter 6 - Escape

  Chapter 7 - Masako Hirakawa

  Chapter 8 - The Gathering, Japan

  Chapter 9 - The Gathering, Dubai

  Chapter 10 - Tom Porter

  Chapter 11 - The Gathering, England

  Chapter 12 - Francois and Marceau

  Chapter 13 - The Gathering, France

  Chapter 14 - The Crossing

  Chapter 15 - Fred and George

  Chapter 16 - Going Home

  Chapter 17 - Home

  Chapter 18 - Prepping

  Chapter 19 - Preppers

  Chapter 20 - Stocking Up

  Chapter 21 - A Visitor

  Chapter 22 - Panic

  Chapter 23 - More Panic

  Chapter 24 - Bugging In

  Chapter 25 - Wine

  Chapter 26 - Building tunnels

  Chapter 27 - Carla and Isaac

  Chapter 28 - New People

  Chapter 29 - The Virus Assaults

  Chapter 30 - The Dark Demon

  Chapter 31 - Problems

  Chapter 32 - Power Failure

  Chapter 33 - Voting

  Chapter 34 - The Lone Rider

  Chapter 35 - The Demon Rides Again

  Chapter 36 - The Distillery

  Chapter 37 - Hunting

  Chapter 38 - The Group Grows

  Chapter 39 - An Accident

  Chapter 40 - A Trip to Town

  Chapter 41 - Finding

  Chapter 42 - Different Strokes

  Chapter 43 - Another Trip to Town

  Chapter 44 - The K's

  Chapter 45 - Traders

  Chapter 46 - Gas Station Scavenging

  Chapter 47 - Future Technology

  Chapter 48 - The Thief

  Chapter 49 - Hunting and Trapping

  Chapter 50 - The Return

  Chapter 51 - Where's Charles?

  Chapter 52 - Leaders and Followers

  Chapter 53 - Partners

  Chapter 54 - Gas Station Scavenging II

  Chapter 55 - Fire and Wine

  Chapter 56 - The Virus

  Chapter 57 - A Ride in the Country

  Chapter 58 - A Vacation

  Chapter 59 - Homecoming Fireworks

  Chapter 60 - Attack

  Chapter 61 - The Battle

  Chapter 62 - The Service

  Chapter 63 - When Pigs Fly

  Chapter 64 - A Short Trip

  Chapter 65 - A Visitor

  Chapter 66 - Another Visitor

  Chapter 67 - The Return, Part II

  Chapter 68 - Little Guy & The Poison

  Chapter 69 - Here Piggy, Piggy

  Chapter 70 - The Spy

  Chapter 71 - The Maps

  Chapter 72 - The Followers

  Chapter 73 - The Fishing Trip

  Chapter 74 - A Walk in the Woods

  Chapter 75 - The Rabbit Man

  Chapter 76 - A New World

  Chapter 78 - A New Idea

  Chapter 79 - Another Threat

  Chapter 80 - A New Underworld

  Chapter 81 - Epilog

  Chapter 1 - The New Plague

  Over fourteen hundred years ago, the Plague of Justinian, the world's first recorded pandemic, originated in China and killed half the people in Europe. The government lost all control and the Plague did what thousands of enemy soldiers had failed to do. It destroyed the Roman Empire. The Plague thrust the world into the Dark Ages and civilization was hurled five hundred years into the past.

  Seven hundred years later, civilization had recovered when rumors from traders told of another plague devastating China, India and the Middle East. For one hundred years, the rumors spread and the people lived in fear of another devastating plague and another dark age. Finally, the traders bringing the rumors also brought death.

  The Black Death was transmitted at first by the bite of fleas from rodents filling the holds of ships, and later by the breath of the stricken. A man healthy one day could be dead the next. The unlucky took weeks to die from the painful black carbuncles, their skin turning black all the while. Doctors refused to see patients. Lawyers refused to see clients. Loved ones fled. The stricken died in pain and hunger, alone.

  The world flew swiftly out of control as The Black Plague struck again and again for the next fifty years. Ultimately, The Plague ravaged the world, killing over one hundred million in Europe alone.

  One hundred years ago, The Plague struck for a third time, devastating China and India, but that time it was contained in the Far East. That time, Man didn't make the same mistakes. Man had learned.

  From the beginning, Man has continually striven to surpass Mother Nature. Now, Man has fashioned new forms of death, based on viruses, far deadlier than anything Mother Nature was unlucky enough to produce. Viruses are difficult to kill, impossible to control and can lie dormant for months and years. They travel through the air with the ease of a wisp of smoke.

  Man has also learned to travel with great speed. Now, instead of ships taking a week to travel a thousand miles, infected people can be halfway around the world within hours -- before showing the first symptoms. Six hundred years ago, the plague ships arrived in port with most of the crew dead after weeks together at sea. The ship was quarantined and the death toll was lessened.

  Today, one plague-infested traveler infects hundreds of others, flying tightly packed in sealed metal boxes, shoulder to shoulder for hours and hours -- breathing the same air, over and over. The newly infected, impossible to detect, walk into airports and infect tens of thousands of others. Those newly infested board other airplanes and sit for hours, breathing the same air, and infecting hundreds of thousands more. In the space of half a day, a million can be infected with a horrific plague, and each will unknowingly and happily go home to their loved ones bringing with them the most devastating death ever conceived.

  Chapter 2 - Spinning Backwards

  April Fool's Day

  Some called it the day the earth began to spi
n backwards. The earth didn't actually change direction, of course, but civilization quickly began to spiral out of existence. The electronics import/export company where John Thompson worked in Ruhan, China, occupied the top floor of the building, with floor-to-ceiling windows covering the outer walls. The morning sky was bright and blue and it looked like a nice day as John sat at his desk watching the electronics factory across the street. Every day for the last week, he sat, blindly gazing out the window, contemplating his future, asking himself if he were wrong. He recalled the horrific things that his spying, his hired women, his drugs and his wild parties had only recently discovered. He now knew what was going to happen. He just didn't know when.

  Three ambulances screeched to a halt with lights flashing and sirens blaring, signaling a day that would not be nice. In seconds, people gathered at the windows to watch and Han Chung walked into John's cubicle.

  "What's going on, Big Guy? What's everybody looking at?" Chung said, standing on tiptoes to see over the window sill and down to the street. "I saw everybody standing by the window. I figured you would know. You always know what's going on."

  Han Chung spent his college years in the US and was the most westernized of all the Chinese people at the company. He never missed one of John's parties. He called John 'Big Guy' because John was nearly six feet tall and most Chinese weren't even close, especially Han Chung, who barely cleared five feet.

  "Three ambulances, a white box truck and three buses. A hundred soldiers wearing helmets and carrying rifles are taking positions edge to edge across the courtyard across the street."

  "I've seen that before. Something important is going on over there. Something the government doesn't want you sticking your long American nose into."

  "Or your short Chinese nose, either. Check out the men wearing the space suits with shiny helmets. Biohazard suits, I think. They're going into the factory with stretchers." No, this is not good, John thought. This is what I've predicted, this last piece of a horrific puzzle, now thrusting itself into place. I didn't think it would happen this soon. Next month or next year or, most likely, years after. Not today.

  The sirens and commotion brought half the office staff to the windows, staring out quietly, none saying a word, but all knowing what was happening. John watched the ghost-like reflections in the glass and wondered if they were the ghosts of the future. And was he destined to become one of those specters? Apparently, the rumor had already spread. After two long minutes of waiting, watching and worrying, a stretcher was carried out.

  "What's that?" said Chung, hopping up and down to see.

  "A large, black plastic bag on a stretcher. The size of a person. Damn. Not good. Not good at all. Why now? It's too soon. I'm just not ready." John pounded his desk with his fist, not noticing Chung and a few others staring at him.

  A second and a third stretcher quickly followed, each occupied by another large, black, lifeless plastic bag. Other men in plastic suits with backpack sprayers washed down the space suits and the black bags and the stretchers. They sprayed the doors of the building and then moved inside.

  "No, not good. All three stretchers are being placed into that small, plain white, box truck, not into the ambulances. That's even worse. That's a truck they're not going to use again. It's at least ten years old. No signs on it, not even any license plates. They'll drive it into a big hole in the ground and pour two meters of concrete on top. Perhaps put a 'Hazardous' sign above."

  As the truck drove off, John cracked open the window in front of his desk and cautiously sniffed the air.

  "Smell anything, Big Guy? Did the chemical plant release something nasty, again? The last time, I thought I was going to die. Couldn't breathe."

  "Afraid not. No hint of anything but the noodle shop two doors up the street. They're preparing lunch. I don't think they will have many customers today -- or tomorrow."

  "You like noodles more than most Americans. You must eat there two or three times a week."

  "Counting, are you? I meet a lot of interesting local people there. Nice folks." John turned and punched Chung lightly on the shoulder. "You want me to meet your people don't you? And for them to meet an American? A real American? I like them. They enjoy my parties. We all have fun. I'm an international ambassador of good will." John tried to keep the mood light, but it was difficult. The end of the world had just begun.

  "Yeah, and wine and women. You are looking for interesting people who work at Bug City. You think nobody notices, but I do. I see everything."

  John began to wonder who was the spy in this office. He was spying on the Chinese at Bug City. Was Chung spying on him? Possible.

  "Many of those people are interesting, but many others are too. Like that policeman who comes to the parties. He doesn't work at Bug City. What's his name, Ho? A nice guy. I really enjoy talking to him. He has a great sense of humor and tells the funniest stories."

  "You think he doesn't know you are giving your guests drugs? Mixed in with the drinks."

  John pointed to himself and the lines between his eyes deepened. "What drugs? Me? Only name brand alcohol. The best. But seriously, Chung. you think he really minds? We're all having fun. He enjoys the parties as much as anybody."

  "Almost as much as anybody. Some enjoy your parties far more than others, especially those in the back rooms, with Cho's friends. But, what do you think happened across the street? To those local people you care so much about?"

  "I do care about those local people. I've met many really nice people here. And they've all been nice to me. Helpful and kind. I don't want something bad to happen to them."

  "Like what, Big Guy?"

  The obvious answer was too horrible to imagine, but too obvious to ignore. "Maybe, it's just April Fool's Day. Only a joke? Right?"

  "Not a chance, Big Guy. I know you had the lecture on that. My people don't understand April Fool's Day, or at least, they don't appreciate it."

  "Yeah, I know. Most of mine don't appreciate it either. Unless the joke is played on someone they don't like. Maybe it's a drill or a practice run? That's possible, right?"

  "If it were a practice, they would put the black bags into the ambulances. But, they put them into a disposable old truck. This is not a practice run, Big Guy. This is the real thing. You know that. Even better than I do."

  Chung looked at John with a question on his face and in his eyes. John knew the question but decided not to answer it. Not yet. It was time for Chung to come out of his shell, to take charge and to be his own man. Now or never. He would no longer be able to lean on John. Chung was a nice guy, whether a spy or not. John hoped Chung would survive, but that would be up to Chung.

  Looking around at his coworkers gathered along the windows, John saw three people he knew well. Those in the West often said that Orientals were inscrutable, but those people were just not paying attention. Orientals were easy to read, but they had to be read in their own language.

  Chung saw John looking at his coworkers and followed suit. "Checkout Mr. Sun, Big Guy. He's not looking so good."

  Mr. Sun was six feet away, staring blindly into thin air. Mr. Sun had certainly heard of the virus and those rumors were, no doubt, filling his mind.

  "I think he's had a hard life, Chung." John had heard all the gossip. Maybe his hard life was the reason that, more than most, Mr. Sun loved John's parties and probably even had fantasies about Cho, the woman who now shared John's life. She said she could tell. When Mr. Sun looked into her eyes, he tended to glance away -- after a sly smile. Today, his eyelids were squinted tightly and his teeth were clinched. The muscles in Mr. Sun's face were straining and he was shaking ever so slightly. He was definitely scared, horrified, and maybe even in physical pain.

  "He has two children, you know, Big Guy. Both girls. Got special government permission. Don't know how. Maybe a relative. He wanted a boy so much."

  "Yes, his oldest is adorable and quite smart, for a ten year old. Mr. Sun hoped she would become a doctor." But now, Mr. Sun was p
robably wondering if either of his daughters would even see their next birthday. Mr. Sun turned to look at John, tears glistening in his eyes. That look was all that was needed. They both understood. John's eyes also began to glisten. Billions of lives were about to end. That was heartbreaking but there was nothing John could do. He would be lucky if he could save his own life. He would have to leave, soon, but he could not help one last look at the people who had shared the last three years with him.

  "And what about Mr. Wu, Big Guy? He looks sick. He's been worried about his wife. She's in the hospital. Maybe he caught something from her."

  Mr. Wu was a few feet further away, along the giant window. Mr. Wu was probably thinking this would end his wife's suffering. With a high probability, this is what was now causing his wife's suffering. He had developed a cough yesterday. Was it a symptom of pollen, too much alcohol or the end of the world? Sad when you don't know. But, John was even sadder because he did know. And to make matters worse, he cared.

  "Mr. Wu is a nice man. Always pleasant and always helpful. He helped me with a number of projects. I couldn't have done my job here without him." Now he will die, John thought. Probably in great pain.

  "Mr. Li doesn't look good either, Big Guy. Strange, because I saw him this morning and was he ever happy. Just received his wedding bonus check. Bigger than he expected. You coming to his bachelor party? I'm in charge of it. It's going to be great."

  "I already gave him his present, but if I'm in town, I promise to be there. Your parties are almost as good as mine."

  About twenty feet away, Mr. Li was leaning against the side wall. About John's age, sweat shown on his face like a mirror reflecting the sunlight. He was breathing heavily, gasping and was more pale than usual. His head was bent over and his thin body was heaving as he turned to face the wall, probably crying.

  He and his betrothed had been sampling marital bliss for several months. John helped by obtaining a one-room apartment on the other side of town and loaning it to Mr. Li. It was the best wedding present John could imagine. Far better than a toaster. John was now certain he made a great decision. His was the best wedding present Mr. Li would receive and probably the only one.