Forsaken World (Book 3): Rite of Passage

by Watson, Thomas A.

  FORSAKEN WORLD

  RITE OF PASSAGE

  Book Three

  THOMAS A WATSON

  Copyright © June 15, 2017

  THOMAS A WATSON

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Credits

  Sabrina Jean/Fast Track Editing

  Cover Art by Christian Bentulan

  This book is a work of fiction. People places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Thank you for acknowledging the hard work of this author. If you didn’t purchase this book or it wasn’t purchased for you, please go purchase your own copy now.

  Dedication

  To All My Fans, Friends and Family, Thank You.

  Synopsis

  After an asteroid from outside the solar system impacted the earth, mankind is going extinct. A microbe on the asteroid has delivered what many always laughed at. Zombies, or as they are known by those in this Forsaken World, Stinkers.

  When we last visited Forsaken World, Ian and Lance were fortifying the cabin and growing up very fast. Overcoming childish fears to be replaced by real ones and the parents made landfall.

  Lilly was allowed to stay and was trying her hardest to prove she should be allowed to stay. Though she is over a decade older, Lilly struggles to not become infatuated with Lance.

  Chapter 1

  April 6

  Shutting the engine of the small zodiac down, Johnathan looked at the dark shoreline. The sky was clear and filled with bright stars and a half-moon as the boat drifted toward shore. “You know we aren’t paddling up that river, right?” Bill said in a low voice.

  Staring at the mouth of the Klamath River, Johnathan nodded. “Yes,” Johnathan said. “I was just seeing if any infected had heard the motor and come out.”

  “Our son named them stinkers,” Sandy retorted. “Just shows you how smart he is with a name that is simple, accurate, and descriptive.”

  Having already killed several in Hawaii, they all had smelled the odor of the infected. That was the main reason Johnathan had moved them to the boat, realizing the hydrogen sulfide would build up around the house. One of the stinkers that had come to the house had been a cop. Johnathan and Bill had used clubs to take it and a few others out. That was the first mistake they’d made, by not moving the bodies. Then, they’d gone searching for the cop car, finding it a mile away.

  That was where they’d gotten the Glock, M4, and a shotgun. There wasn’t much ammo, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. When the next group of stinkers had shown up, Johnathan shot the three. And thirty minutes later was their second mistake, when eight more showed up. Grabbing the guns to take them out, Bill had looked down the road and spotted a very large group coming.

  “Cranking up,” Johnathan said, yanking the cord. The outboard fired up and Johnathan twisted the throttle, easing toward the mouth of the river. It wasn’t long until they saw a stinker stumbling up to the riverbank.

  “We damn sure aren’t shooting it,” Sandy said, holding a pipe.

  Keeping in the middle of the river, Johnathan nodded as Bill turned back to look at him. “I’m not keen on getting ‘hands on’ with them,” Bill grumbled, scratching his face. Both he and Johnathan had beards now and the itching was killing them.

  Looking at the bank as the stinker stopped and reached for them, Johnathan turned to Bill. “We avoid them until we can get a means to take them out quietly. We only use the guns as a last resort,” Johnathan said.

  Half a mile ahead they saw a roadside park and Johnathan guided the boat to the bank. They knew this area from coming here to camp and hike a few years ago. Turning the motor off, the boat slid up on the bank as they all looked around the area. They saw the reason that they’d wanted to stop here across the road from the park, a sporting goods store.

  “I don’t see any,” Mary whispered over the sound of the river.

  “More importantly, I can’t smell any close,” Bill added, getting out of the boat. Tying the boat off on a large tree, he turned back as the others got out, slinging the shotgun across his back. “There are only a few RVs in the camping area, let’s check them out first.”

  Slinging the M4 across his back, Johnathan grabbed a large crowbar from the boat. Mary checked the Glock shoved in her pants as she, Bill, and Sandy gripped the sections of pipes they had taken off the boat. “You lead with Mary and Sandy in the middle. I’ll bring up the rear,” Johnathan said in a low voice. Johnathan was in shape and no small man, but Bill was two inches taller and thirty pounds of muscle heavier.

  Able to see very well in the clear night, Bill turned and had to agree with what Ian always said now, it was spooky at night in the woods. Leading the group over to the campground, Bill only saw five RVs in the large campground. “Last time we were here all one hundred spots were taken,” he mumbled.

  Easing up to the first RV, Bill dropped down to look under the RV and didn’t see anything. Walking around, he saw a small car parked beside the RV. Moving to the door, Bill lightly tapped it. “What are you doing?” Mary asked in a low voice.

  “Making sure someone isn’t laid up inside,” Bill answered, not hearing anything.

  “Bill, zombies are running around, you really think someone would answer the door?” Mary asked.

  “No, but they would move,” he replied, reaching up for the handle and grimaced while pulling it. The door popped open and the smell of spoiled food flooded out. “Better than a stinker,” Bill mumbled, stepping inside.

  Making sure nothing was hiding in the RV, Bill stepped back out. Gliding past, Mary and Sandy moved inside and started going through the RV. With Bill keeping watch, Johnathan eased open the underside storage bins. Seeing two backpacks, Johnathan pulled them out.

  Setting them on the ground, he saw a double-headed axe and grabbed it. Clicking his tongue softly to get Bill’s attention, Johnathan held up the axe when Bill turned around. “I’ll take it,” Bill said, putting down the pipe.

  Gripping the fiberglass handle, Bill looked at the axe, feeling much better as Johnathan moved to the next bin. Not finding anything useful, Johnathan headed around the RV and stopped at the back, looking at two mountain bikes on a bike carrier. “Nice,” he said and then noticed the padlock.

  “Shit,” he mumbled and moved back to the door. Sticking his head in, he saw Mary looking through the cabinets. “Look for the keys,” Johnathan said softly.

  Jerking her head and staring at Johnathan in shock. “We aren’t taking it,” Mary snapped.

  “I know, but they have mountain bikes locked up on the back. I would prefer to unlock them and not break the lock,” Johnathan told her.

  With a slight nod of her head, Mary moved up to the front and pulled keys from the ignition. Tossing them to Johnathan, Mary watched him leave as Sandy came from the back carrying an armload of clothes. “These will fit us, but the man was tiny,” Sandy said, putting the clothes down.

  As Sandy put the clothes on the table, Mary saw a rifle on Sandy’s back. “You found a gun?” Mary asked, very shocked.

  “Yeah, it’s a Ruger 10/22, but I only found two ten-round magazines,” Sandy said, lifting up a light jacket.

  “I hate California,” Mary mumbled, moving over to look at the clothes.

  “Those hiking boots will fit you,” Sandy said, pointing at the table.


  Kicking off her tennis shoes, Mary sat down and pulled the boots on and noticed Sandy had on blue jeans and hiking boots. “Find some pants for me?” Mary asked, shoving her feet in the boots and finding them a little big.

  Reaching down, Sandy passed her a pair of pants. Checking the size, Mary nodded and kicked off her boots and shed her shorts. “I take it the rest of the women’s clothes in the suitcase were too small?” Mary asked, pulling the pants on.

  Giving a scoff, “Yeah, that woman couldn’t have been more than five-foot-tall, but had big ass feet,” Sandy said, pulling on a synthetic long-sleeved shirt.

  “I only found some bags of rice and a box of crackers,” Mary said, putting the boots back on.

  Grabbing the food and leaving the rest of the clothes, they walked out to see Johnathan strapping the hiking backpacks on the mountain bikes. As the realization of the distance filled her mind, “When we get home, I’m never riding a bike again,” Mary vowed.

  “Better than walking,” Sandy said with a shrug and Mary nodded. Mary and Sandy grabbed the bikes, pushing them to the next RV with Bill leading. The only thing they found worth taking was a machete. At the next RV they found four mountain bikes, but two were kids bikes.

  Grabbing the two adult bikes, they moved on after searching the RV. “This is weird,” Sandy said as they stopped at the next RV.

  “What?” Johnathan asked, moving up as Bill opened the door.

  “I can tell only a few things have been taken from these RVs. Why didn’t the people just drive their RVs off?” Sandy said as Bill came back out.

  Looking over at Sandy with a sad expression, “Honey, I’m sure the feds came through here and if not, people learned really fast that noise attracts them. There is a FEMA camp just eighty miles away in Medford, Oregon,” Johnathan said softly as Sandy moved inside with Mary.

  Moving over, Johnathan checked the outside storage as Bill moved out from the RV, pivoting his head and looking around. “I really thought there would be more RVs here,” Bill said. “Every RV we’ve checked is from Cali. I was hoping some good ole southern boys would be here.”

  “If there were some here, they probably hauled ass when this started. I figure the ones here are from big cities,” Johnathan said, not finding anything.

  Not long after that, Sandy and Mary came out with small bags of food. Moving to the last RV and not finding anything, Bill moved over to Johnathan. “How-,” Bill stopped as gunfire sounded off in the distance. Everyone dropped to one knee, looking north as more gunshots rang out and the tempo started picking up.

  “Don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Bill acknowledged.

  “It’s not here, so it doesn’t mean anything,” Johnathan said, figuring the shooting was well over a mile away.

  “How do you want to do the store?” Bill asked.

  “Leave Mary and Sandy out front while you and I clear,” Johnathan answered while getting up. “They can let us know if something is coming.”

  “Even with power out, I’m sure the alarm system has a backup,” Bill said, using the bike he’d been pushing to pull himself up.

  Nodding, Johnathan turned to look at the others, “If it goes off, we’ll have to move fast,” Johnathan said.

  “I’m ready to get out of my shorts,” Bill grinned and took off across the road, pushing his bike. The others followed, pushing their bikes in a jog.

  Reaching the store, Bill slowed his jog to a stop before letting out a groan. “Shit,” he growled, seeing the front glass door busted open. “Knew it would’ve been hit before we got here.”

  “I’m sure there is still stuff we can use,” Johnathan said, pushing his bike past Bill. Walking to the door Johnathan stopped, seeing a large notice nailed to the wall beside the door.

  All persons are to report to nearest FEMA center immediately. Anyone found outside of government controlled zones will be shot on sight. Bring food and weapons to turn in upon arrival.

  Reading the message, he saw a list of nearby cities. Johnathan shook his head as the others moved up to read the message. “Idiots,” Johnathan mumbled, putting the kickstand down and moving to the door. Sniffing the air, he relaxed and eased the door open.

  Bill and Johnathan quickly checked the store and came back out. “Let’s push the bikes inside,” Bill told them.

  “Much left inside?” Mary asked.

  “The only thing that seems to be gone are the guns behind the counter. There are skylights and you can see pretty good inside,” Bill replied as the gunfire to the north suddenly stopped. “You two can keep an eye out from inside.”

  Pushing the bikes in, Mary and Sandy stayed up front as Bill and Johnathan moved through the small store. Grabbing tote bags, they started filling them up, only stopping to grab pants and boots putting them on.

  “Can you keep an eye out? I want to see what’s in these backpacks before we lug them up a mountain,” Sandy said and Mary nodded.

  Searching one backpack, Sandy pulled out a metal propane cooking stove and sat it to the side. “Glad I checked,” she mumbled pulling clothes out. Leaving the camping gear, she moved to the next pack. Opening a side pouch, Sandy grinned and pulled out a Ruger 22/45 pistol. “I like it, just wish you were bigger,” she mumbled as Johnathan came up carrying an armload of gear.

  “Where did you get that?” he asked setting the stuff down, and Sandy noticed a compound bow and a recurve bow.

  Pointing at the backpack, “Here,” Sandy answered and Johnathan moved behind the counter and started pulling out boxes of ammo.

  When he was done, he moved to the door. “Bill and I will take these packs, there are some smaller ones on the back wall. Load up,” he said, opening several packages that held magazines for both models of Rugers that Sandy had found.

  Checking the pistol, Johnathan glanced up and then outside as Bill came up carrying a load. “I’ll pack, then you can,” he said, stuffing gear in the backpack. Using his foot, Bill got all the gear in and swapped out with Johnathan.

  “How many arrows?” Johnathan asked, packing his gear.

  “I figure sixty,” Bill answered, then grinned. “I do think the wives will be grabbing more. They were both pulling on recurves when I came up here.”

  Nodding at Bill and feeling much better about their chances, Johnathan turned to look south and stepped back. “Shit,” he hissed and Bill startled when he looked out front.

  “Get the wives and tell them to be quiet,” Johnathan breathed out, dropping to one knee as a large group of stinkers walked past the storefront heading north. Moving away in a low crouch, Bill crept to the back of the store as Johnathan kept watch.

  To the north, four gunshots sounded and Johnathan watched the slow saunter of the group turn into a fast trot. Johnathan pinched his nose closed as the smell blew in the broken window burning his lungs. Trying not to cough, Johnathan started counting.

  When the last of the group trotted past Johnathan shook his head. “Forty-seven,” he mumbled as another gunshot rang out.

  Feeling movement behind him, Johnathan turned to see the others moving to him. “Can we leave?” Sandy asked.

  “Strap your gear to your bike. I have more to grab,” Johnathan whispered and moved back in the store. Ten minutes later, Johnathan came back with a green duffle bag stuffed full and an empty one in his hands.

  “We are still stopping at that small hardware store?” Bill asked, taking the full duffle bag.

  “Yeah, if at all possible,” Johnathan said.

  Going out first, Bill moved to the road and saw it was clear, then moved back to grab his bike. Everyone climbed on their overloaded bikes and pedaled south, staying in single file. Coming to a small town, they climbed off and moved to the side of the road while pushing the bikes.

  Reaching a family-owned hardware store, Johnathan moved up to the door with his crowbar. Saying a prayer he pried the door open, and sighed when no alarm rang out. The others waited outside, looking around nervously.

  Fifteen minutes
later, Johnathan came out carrying PVC pipes and a stuffed duffel bag on his back. Strapping the pipes to his bike, Johnathan climbed back on as Bill led them through the small town.

  Half a mile down the road several stinkers came out of a house, but couldn’t keep up and were soon lost behind them as Bill turned left onto a dirt road. Johnathan looked at the road leading up into the mountains and stood up on the pedals. “Man, I’m glad we rode bikes for exercise,” he huffed, pedaling up the incline.

  Chapter Two

  April 7

  After riding up the dirt road into the mountains, Bill eventually led them off the road and they rested until morning. When the sun came up, they unpacked everything and went to work.

  Using a saw, Johnathan was cutting sections off the PVC pipe as Bill put cargo bags and racks on the bikes. Mary and Sandy were laying out everything in neat piles. “Holy crap, I forgot what it was like to pedal up a mountain,” Bill commented, moving to the next bike.

  “Hey, I’m glad we were pedaling and not walking,” Johnathan said, grabbing a smaller diameter PVC pipe and going to work with the saw. “There is no way we could’ve carried this much shit up here.”

  “Johnathan, why can’t we stay on paved roads here out west?” Sandy asked. “I can understand when we get east, but we will be traveling like five miles just to move one mile east.”

  Grabbing end caps and the manual hand drill, Johnathan put a bit in the chuck. “Honey, we have to stay in the sticks. When we get out of these mountains, I want to go cross country.”

  Leaning all the backpacks against a log, Sandy opened one of the cans of paint that Johnathan had gotten. Stirring the paint, “There’s nothing in Nevada and Utah where we are crossing. We’ve been there and for the most part, it’s empty land,” Sandy reminded him as she grabbed a paintbrush and began painting black stripes on the backpacks.

  “True, and that’s why we are avoiding the areas people would use; roads. Stinkers aren’t the only things we have to avoid. You were listening to the radio when we crossed the ocean and heard of people being attacked and calling out for help,” Johnathan said, drilling into the end cap. “Would the roads be faster? Yes, but faster for us to meet trouble. We don’t have the supplies to fight our way through.”