by Aline Riva
Deserted with the Dead
Book One : Frostbite
By
Aline Riva
and
Nathan Ward
Deserted with the Dead Book 1 Frostbite by Aline Riva and Nathan Ward
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
A Kindle Original 2016
Copyright © Aline Riva and Nathan Ward 2016
Cover Design Copyright © Nathan David Ward 2016
The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
All rights reserved. No part of this publication be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Deserted with the Dead
Book one : Frostbite
Introduction:
The world had come a long way since the outbreak had begun – a long way backwards into chaos as what remained of humanity hung on any way they could to survive. It was all wrecked, broken, that was how the world looked through the eyes of those who shared the planet with the new majority – the living dead.
The civilised world had been ripped apart and it reflected in the broken, littered streets and burned out cars, the houses with windows shattered where curtains flapped ghostly on the breeze and once carefully tended gardens had returned to the ramble of nature.
In this distorted nightmare where the living still saw the remnants of the past that were best not dwelt on in case the loss of those days drove them to insanity, a woman walked alone, her red hair fell to her shoulders and her dark clothing was dusty and worn from countless altercations, her boots were scuffed but the powerful handgun holstered at her side looked smooth and shining as the sunlight shone down on to an ugly world where threats lurked unseen in dark places, threats that could reach out at any moment – and she was ready for it. He was walking behind her, in that moment thinking on the beginning, how it had been a year since hell had broken loose and the world they used to know had been wiped out. She paused by overgrown hedgerow where a small fence and a rusted gate was barely visible.
“I think we should go back – no sign of survivors this way...David, did you hear what I said?”
He stood motionless, his dark eyes fixed behind her as a fraction of a second glance came too late and it lunged from its hiding place giving a dry and ugly roar, dead hands with white bone showing hollow where fingertips used to be as the stench of death filled the air and it and Tara crashed to the pavement where weeds grew between cracks and her blood ran scarlet as her head connected with the ground. Its jaw was hanging loose, the flesh partly gone, an eye socket empty and its hands were reaching desperately for her, desperate to grab at the living and feed as she tried to reach her gun, turning over and grasping on to ragged clothing and exposed bone trying to fight it off, pressing against the remains of its cold fleshy neck as its sharp brittle teeth chomped just inches from her face. The creature was hungry like no other, it was driven by pure desperation which Tara could sense by the sound of the bone pegs scuttling together, nipping against the collar of her beaten frock coat.
David drew out his gun, Tara screwed her eyes tight shut and he squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times then four, shot after shot rang out and the final one connected with dry bone, the creature's head exploded and a thick rain of crimson covered Tara’s face. She was breathless as she pushed off the dead weight of the corpse, and then got up, her face pale, stained and gaunt as she looked to her lover. He was still looking at her with that same expression, dark eyes set on her, waiting for a sign. She knew what he was going to say.
“Did it break your skin?”
“No, but the pavement did!”
He lowered his gun, scanned left and right about the wrecked suburban street, then as she hurried back to him he put his arm around her, still looking to the places where he knew they would hide, ready for them, always ready. His gun was in his hand, at his side, ready to fire again if another of the rotting enemy rose up, standing tall and cutting a sleek but battle worn figure in a dark suit that had seen better days and a long black coat that concealed his weaponry. The wind blew softly, tightening the blood on her face and ruffling his brown hair as for a moment, neither spoke as they listened in a dead silence, in a place where the dead lurked, the stink of decay hung stale in the air to remind them this was no longer their world but the domain of the living corpses. He tightened his grip about her shoulder as they turned away, heading back the way they had come in.
“You'll be okay,” he whispered as he kept his sights on the road ahead and the way back to their safe house, “And so will I. They won't win, not as long as I'm standing...”
Then they made their way back together, the only people on the street, heading for somewhere locked down to call home and as they walked, his arm was around her as his other hand kept a tight grip on his weapon and his eyes stayed cold, scanning the horizon for more emerging threats. And as he looked ahead, his thoughts turned to the past, to a year before, and how this had all begun. So much had happened in a year. In that time, the world had gone to hell...
David :
This was our world. This what we returned to, home no better off than anywhere else. It was the vaccines that caused it, the bad batch. Blame a government doing it on the cheap and cutting corners to meet demand and a new strain of deadly flu and poor development of a rushed vaccines badly screened. First came the mutated, then they passed the infection to their victims who died and came back. This was the clumsy hand of humanity at fault – we destroyed ourselves.
This is all we have left now, the dead walk the earth and the living fight to survive. A year ago it wasn't like this, back then zombies belonged in TV shows and movies and the only living dead that walked the streets were seen on Halloween in stupid costumes. This is the real thing. This is the reality of the end of the human race. And we're here at the end of it, trying to hold on.
Sometimes I wonder if I've gone insane and none of this is real, but the sun goes down and comes up again every morning and I'm still here and so are the others, the few of us left who survive. I don't know if we have a future I don't even know how long we can hold on – all I know is this:
My name is David Harley, I spent ten years as an RAF pilot before I switched careers and devoted my life to photography and teaching it. And that's when the end of the world started, on a field trip with Tara and some students, on a plane to Chile, en route to Antarctica. There’s really no easy way of forgetting what happened, it was supposed to be a trip of a lifetime, but what we were dealt couldn’t have been any further from that even if it wanted to be. What we were about to embark on was the gravest mistake of our entire lives.
Chapter 1: The Journey
The flight was three quarters done, the UK was a distant memory as David Harley looked out the window at the vast mountain ranges looking dark with sprinklings of ice standing out along the highest points. They were close now to landing in Chile, the biggest part of the journey would soon be over – fifteen hours from the UK to Santiago, then a connecting flight of nine hours that would take the group to Antarctica and its newest, second airport and settlement base named East Pinnacle. There he hoped the group of photographers under his guidance would make the most of this fantastic opportunity, being in their early twenties and studying in his group because they were the best of the best, apparently – although some of them, made him wond
er.
There was a distinct lack of commitment and seriousness in several of the group, something he disapproved of considering this was such an important trip. He guessed Tara - the groups other tutor, would call him misery guts for taking that attitude, she was an attractive woman with red hair and warmth in her smile who had been secretly enjoying a fun and filthy fling with him for a few weeks now, and this trip seemed the perfect excuse to spend even more time with her – something he feared perhaps his heart was longing for as much as the rest of him. Since when his heart had got involved he had no idea - and after a marriage that had ended in divorce three years before he was reluctant to chance his heart getting ripped to pieces again, but Tara was warm all the way through and she made him smile and there was something about being in her company that made him feel more aware of being alone when she was not at his side. He guessed he liked her more than he cared to admit.
He turned his head and met her gaze as she relaxed in the seat beside him. Her blue eyes sparkled as she met his dark gaze with a playful look in her eyes that reminded him of the countless times she had teased him about the flight and how it was time they both joined the mile high club...
“I bet you're still hoping,” she remarked, smiling as her face was framed perfectly by her long, straight red hair that reached her shoulders, “Yes... You are, David. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Mile high club?” he said quietly, aware that they were only separated from the students by a single row of seats, “I'm still waiting for that...or did you mean on the way back?”
She shifted closer, her shoulder touched his and he caught the scent of her perfume and that single gesture was enough to conjure up so many delightful images of the two of them together.
“Or maybe not at all. I mean, someone would notice if we happened to visit the bathroom at the same time.”
He glanced across the narrow divide that set apart the two rows of seats.
“Yeah, I can think of a few of them that would certainly notice.”
Tara glanced over too, catching a glimpse of the people sat in the opposite row.
“By your negative tone I take it you're not too thrilled with some of the company we have on this trip?” she said quietly as she shot him a knowing glance. There was something about the way her eyes sparkled that pushed him into dropping his guard as he smiled back at her, turning away from the students so only she could see the light in his eyes that she alone could put there. He wanted to kiss her in that moment, but he was too aware of his professional role on this trip to be known as the teacher who got loved up with another member of staff and made out on the plane...
He pushed aside thoughts that were best reserved for later and thought instead on her question as he gave a reply that was too discreet to reach the ears of his students as he leant in a little closer.
“Too right I'm not thrilled! We've got the Taylor cousins Samantha and Sofia...Who spend most of their time giggling over guys and when Sofia's not running through her list of dateables Samantha's too busy being Miss Slutty Bang Me Senseless Please, Sir making eyes at me and I can't tell you how irritating I find her come ons!”
Tara stifled a giggle as she looked over at the two young women sat in the front row of the other aisle, blonde Samantha threw back her head and laughed at something said by her equally pretty brunette cousin.
“I know,” Tara replied, “I've seen her clumsy attempts to flirt with you. That girl never gives up!”
“And then we have Ryan Henderson, Samantha's loud mouth trouble making boyfriend. I'm amazed he's got this far without being arrested – but the journeys not over yet, we can live in hope.”
As he spoke he shot a side ways glance at Ryan, a big, heavy set young man with short fair hair who reclined lazily in the seat behind Samantha, currently he was sleeping, and softly snoring as the plane flew on smoothly towards its destination.
“They're not all bad,” Tara reminded him, “Holly and Megan will take this trip seriously.”
He glanced over at the two girls who sat quietly chatting. Holly's dark looks contrasted in every way with Megan's pale features and the expression in their eyes matched the same depth as they discussed the trip, with Holly indicating to the mountains as they carried on talking.
“I'm sure they will, they're good students,” David agreed, then he looked to the young woman sat beside them, twenty-five year old Lauren Mills, four years older than her fellow students and the oldest in the group, her dark brown hair framed her face in a bob and her dark eyes were closed as she slept deeply, she had been asleep for the past three hours and would no doubt be glad of that rest when the plane touched down – it would be nine more hours on the next flight until they reached Antarctica.
“I can see Lauren making the most of this trip.”
“Me too,” Tara replied, and then she giggled, “I really don't know about our odd trio – Lane, Payne and Frazer!”
He smirked, glancing over at the three unlikely guys who had bonded quickly as close friends during the past year of the course: Alexander Lane, a quiet and serious young man with red hair and pale blue eyes who was an excellent student and from a wealthy family, who frequently leant his deluxe camera equipment to his best buddies – tall, dark, slim Justin Frazer was best described as the nerd of the group and as for short, stocky Matt Payne, he was amazed that guy had made it this far, let alone become one of the best students in the class – he was always high on something or contemplating getting high... Right now Alex was reading a book, Justin was enthusiastically taking many pictures of the mountains with his camera phone and Matt was sleeping. Matt had been sleeping since one hour into the flight...
David turned back to Tara, amusement dancing in his eyes as he gave his reply.
“Lane will go into it with his usual enthusiasm, Frazer will too once he's over the excitement of being in the Arctic and as for Matt, I think we should have a friendly bet on whether he gets through customs or not – depends how well he's packed what ever he's packing high enough up his arse and will customs find it, or not?”
She stifled a giggle, looking to the window for a moment, then meeting his gaze once more as fondness reflected in her eyes.
“Oh, stop it you grumpy sod! They're not that bad!”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You get them one day a week - I suffer them the rest of the time! Wait and see, you'll soon get what I mean!”
She slid her hand down to his thigh, resting it lightly as he felt the heat of her touch burn through the fabric of his suit. Then she gave him a squeeze. The way he caught his breath as his eyes widened in surprise gave her a thrill that she hid with a smile.
“Wait till we get to Antarctica,” she said seductively, “I'll keep you warm in the frozen wasteland, David...”
She was teasing him and he knew it. He couldn't do a damned thing about it in front of the rest of their party, but her touch felt so very good, and he knew her promise was true.
“I can't wait,” he murmured softly as his gaze darkened, “You and me and a locked door to keep the world out...”
“Not long to go,” she replied, and then she shifted from his thigh, discreetly taking hold of his hand as their fingers laced together.
He smiled as he closed his eyes, catching some sleep time before touch down.
“Not long now,” he said, “We're nearly there...”Then he drifted into a light and easy sleep, her hand resting in his, as the plane headed towards its destination.
After the plane had landed in Chile, all the group were weary from the long flight but eager to get going once more. They had a three hour window between landing and the connecting flight on board the bae 146-200 that would take them to the newest landing point in the Arctic, East Pinnacle.
“...And I can't wait to see all that cold landscape – I really want to capture the essence of it!” said Megan.
“Me too,” Holly agreed, and then she looked to the window, out to the landing and departing planes.
“And we can say we've been to Chile too!”
“Just the airport, what's the big deal?” Ryan cut in, shoving past her to catch up with Samantha, who rolled her eyes on seeing the sour look on her boyfriend's face and then said something quietly to her cousin.
“What's the big deal?” Holly said, staring after him, “We get off the plane, get a passport stamp that says we've been to Chile – next stop Antarctica, I'd say that's a massive deal! We're lucky to be here! What is his problem?”
“We certainly are lucky!” Justin agreed, and then he broke off from the group, went over to the window and took a selfie with a departing plane far in the distance as it rose from the runway. Just then Alex joined him, followed by Matt, who looked half asleep.
“I need some water,” Matt grumbled.
“Fantastic airport!” Alex exclaimed, “My Uncle Rufus pops through here often...on the way to Antarctica... he loves to trek the ice once in a while!”
“Alright for those who can afford it!” remarked Ryan, shooting him an envious look as Samantha tugged at the sleeve of his coat, giving him a look that he ignored, a warning glance to tell him to shut his fat mouth.
As the others joined them, Tara cast a glance about the group, satisfied no one was missing.
“Won't be long now,” she said as she walked on ahead with David, “I think we should steer this lot towards rest, food and a sensible wait in the departure area before they start thinking about finding the bar.”
As she spoke she had smiled, looking to him as she thought about later on and undressing him behind the privacy of his locked door at the hostel. He was already wrapped up and ready for the freezing cold of the arctic, in his thick turquoise duffel coat that suited him very well. She wanted to lean in and kiss his cheek at that moment, almost forgetting they had a professional front to keep up in front of the students. Then as his expression changed so did hers, he was looking ahead in alarm as he stopped abruptly.