The Inroad Chronicles (Book 1): Legion Seed

by Erickson, Brian

  “Maybe, but why’d we never hear an ambulance?”

  They fell silent and stared at the floor for a couple minutes.

  Finally, Jackson looked over at the small stack of food they had left and frowned. “I’ve got to go out soon. We don’t have much food left down here. I just need to get into our pantry, and I can get enough for another week.”

  Kathleen wrapped her arms around his midsection. “We’ve got enough for the rest of the day, Jackson. Maybe things will improve tomorrow, and you can do it then.”

  “And go out to get food only after we’ve run out? What if there’s some problem? What if I have to go farther than the pantry? I should do it now while we still have some left.”

  “I don’t want you to go.” She could feel a lump swelling in her throat.

  “That’s irrational. It makes no sense not to get more food when we’re runnin’ low.” Typical, completely ruled by emotion and no logic.

  “I know.” She began crying.

  Jackson’s head fell back, and he stood up. “Oh no, not again.”

  Kathleen wiped her nose with a tissue. “It’s not my fault. I’m pregnant, you dumbass! My hormones are goin’ crazy. You can’t take it too seriously, but you still have to see what’s in my heart. You can see that I don’t want you to go.”

  Jackson walked over, sat down beside her, placed an arm over her shoulder, and pulled her head in to rest on his chest. Placing his finger under her chin he moved her head up and looked at her with a smile in his eyes. “It’s my job to provide for this family. If I don’t go out and find more food we’ll starve. Okay? I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t worry.”

  Kathleen nodded and smiled, and then a fresh stream of tears poured out as she sobbed. “Be careful. Just get the food out of the pantry and run back down here. Don’t go outside. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes! Come on, don’t you trust me? I’m gonna’ run up there, grab some food, and come back down. That’s it. I promise.”

  “Okay, be careful.”

  His arms collapsed to his sides. “You said that already. I’ll be right back.” His cheeks reddened as he chuckled and gave her a level stare.

  Her expression softened and she nodded. Jackson smiled and leaned down and kissed her tear covered cheek. The salty taste touched his tongue, and he felt his stomach growl. He looked over at the food still on the table and chewed on his lip. No, I better leave that for her in case anything goes wrong. She has to eat for two. I can wait ‘till we have more to eat.

  Jackson grabbed a bag to put food in and looked over at the gas masks. “You think I should put on a mask?”

  Kathleen nodded quickly. “Yes! You have to; you don’t know what the air’s like.

  Jackson grabbed the mask and slipped it over the top of his head. “You’re right, again. I think I might make a habit of listenin’ to you a bit more often. You’re not as dumb as I thought.”

  Kathleen laughed and swatted the air. “Stop it, I don’t feel like laughin’ right now.”

  “It’s good for you, better than the alternative when you turn into a water fountain.” While speaking, he strapped the machete around his waist, holstered his Glock, and then walked upstairs out of sight of Kathleen. Hidden behind the wall that lined the stairs he took several deep breaths, wiped sweat from his brow, and donned his gas mask. As it slid over his face his vision narrowed, and he had to turn his head and body to see anything on his periphery. He lifted the bottom of the mask to scratch his chin, and it resealed when he let go. He took deep breaths and reached up to wipe sweat off his head but his hand hit the mask. He pulled it off and looked at it. “Damn, these things are uncomfortable.”

  Kathleen turned her head when she heard Jackson’s voice. “What?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes!” Jackson shook his head. dammit! He slid the mask back over his head and walked up to the door. He closed his eyes for a couple seconds and took some deep breaths then unlocked it and turned the handle.

  The basement door cracked open in the house and Jackson stepped through waving the gun around. He stomped through a couple rooms jabbing the gun into corners and opened the hallway closet and jumped back with the gun pointed at the wall. He paused and chuckled through the gas mask. “I’m being an idiot.” The gas mask muffled his voice.

  He walked back into the kitchen and looked out the window and did not see any people. As far as he could see down the street, houses still had at least one car in the driveway, but he could see something lying flat in the road some distance away. He walked away for a few seconds and came back with a set of binoculars. He turned the dial to focus and then gasped.

  Seconds later Jackson burst out of the front door and ran down the street. As he did so the screen door flew open and slammed shut with as much force. His hot breath pounded inside the gas mask. As Jackson neared the shape on the road he stopped and turned away when he got close enough to see the dead body with bloodstained clothes and its torso ripped open, dried blood covered the road, and a trail of red led off toward a house. “What the...Oh my God!” He backed away shaking his head and bolted back home. He ran in and fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the slash where his signal bars would normally be, “dammit! Fuck!”

  ✹✹✹

  Down the street a dog smelling the ground raised its head and its ears stood at attention. A loud bang resounded through the neighborhood, and the dog turned its head toward a little brick house. It took a couple small steps toward the house until it noticed two other figures heading there as well. The dog whimpered and let out a short bark before running away.

  ✹✹✹

  Jackson opened the pantry door and sighed. “Good.” He opened the bag and commenced shoveling cans and boxes into it. The bag expanded until outlines of boxes and cans filled it.

  Jackson hefted the bag over his shoulder and set it down again as his head shot up at the sound of the screen door slamming shut. He froze as he heard a soft, scraping sound that reminded him of when his grandmother used to shuffle across the kitchen with her walker. He slowly stepped out of the pantry and peaked around the corner with one eye. As he looked down the hall toward the front door, what he saw made his skin flush white. Still staring, he reached around to the small of his back and pulled out his gun but kept it concealed behind his leg. With a furrowed brow hovering over his wide eyes Jackson could not stop himself from feeling a wave of concern both for himself and the man standing before him as his finger slid down over the trigger. “Bob, is that you?”

  ✹✹✹

  Jack Fondry’s right eyelid pulled itself up as one might struggle to lift an iron curtain. At first fog shrouded his entire world and he could only smell the acrid scent of dried blood. He heard spirited buzzes everywhere and could feel light pricks tickling his skin. He blinked several times, and his eyes slowly focused to see a dark, sanguineous pool around his face. He lifted his head slightly and the source of the tingling sensation rippling on his skin revealed itself as hundreds of flies took flight off his head and from inside his mouth. “What the fuck!” His first instinct was to roll over and away coughing and spitting as stranded flies shot out of his mouth, but a sharp pain emanated from his midsection and locked him in place as he screamed. He lowered his hand and yelped when it touched his hip.

  Breathing heavily, he finally resigned from movement and took in his surroundings. He was close to the last place he remembered being a couple days after the asteroid strike, but that was the problem, because he woke up sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs. I must’ve passed out. I woke up feelin’ a bit strange, and I staggered out of bed. That’s it. I blacked out and fell down the stairs, of all the places!

  He reached up to his head and lightly grazed his fingertips across a raw, sticky pat
ch on his crown and winced. Jesus, how’d I fall! Maybe it looks better’n it feels.He wiggled all his fingers and toes, bent both knees, and lifted his left leg. He lifted his right leg slightly and let it fall just as fast as he grimaced. Broke my right hip, gotta get help! His head fell back against the floor and veins popped out of his forehead as tears streaked down his cheeks. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

  He balled crimson fists up over his eyes and wiped tears away, but they stopped themselves as an urge began to overtake him. Still aware but not really thinking, he rolled over and began to crawl with his good leg and hands. Pulling himself slow inches at a time he made his way to the front of the house and opened the door. He cringed with every movement, but not as much he thought he would. This is gonna hurt later. My adrenaline’s pumpin’ now.If somebody had walked up at that moment and asked what he was doing or where he was going he would not have been able to give an accurate response, other than to say that he felt he needed to go. He rounded the side of his house continuing with his slow, but determined, progress.

  After a struggle he reached the middle of his back yard and his inexplicable target revealed itself. The odor of foulest death found his nostrils and snaked its way inside. When it did he felt an urge to vomit, but sudden hunger pains racked his body and overrode his brain’s instinctual reaction, and saliva poured profusely from his open mouth. His fingers tightened into hooks as deep grunts and animalistic growls replaced his human voice. Only inches away from the body he had rolled up in a tarpaulin he turned onto his side and convulsed. Shrill screams filled the air as blood dribbled out of his mouth. In his struggle he pulled up fists of grass and clawed his fingernails through the dirt.

  After seconds that felt like hours his thrashing ceased, and in Jack’s last moments of consciousness he tried to stop himself from groping under the blue tarpaulin and retrieving a blood-stained arm, but his stomach roared with a hunger he could not curb. Consumed by this ravenous urge Jack slipped out of consciousness never to return again, but not before he felt his teeth sink into the limb, stiff from rigor mortis, and the last wink of life sucked out of his field of vision as putrid blood and maggots smeared his face while he tore violently at the meat within. The colors of bodily fluids sharply clashed with Jack’s skin as the rosy hue of the living retreated left behind only lividity.

  Chapter Eleven

  Inside Defcon-1 Ron continually turned the knob on the radio through every frequency while resting his head on his hand. The occasional voice would pop up and fade away just as quickly like a phantom broadcast had just been whisked away to another realm and replaced by only static. He looked over at the monitor again and saw the same image he had seen for a day, the same one he had seen in the dozens of times he had looked at it—blackness with a ring of light around the edge—nothing had changed. He let out a roar that made Cassius run into the bedroom and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes in silence. Finally, he turned the knob on the radio again and his face brightened when another voice flared up. He thought he heard the word, “security,” before static reclaimed the airwaves. “Damn it!” He slapped the table and pushed the radio back forcefully. “This is hopeless!”

  “What is it?” Ann came running out of the bedroom wrapped in a towel and her hair was still dripping wet.

  “I can’t get anything to work! Nobody’s broadcasting on the radio. The camera’s dark. We have no idea what’s going on out there. It’s driving me crazy!”

  “Do you think it’s safe to go outside?” She looked at him as she wrung water out of her hair and let it spatter the floor.

  “I’m thinkin’ that it’s a risk I’m willing to take even if I just clear the camera.”

  “What do you think’s blockin’ it?”

  “Don’t know for certain, but that crash we heard last night sounded big enough to bring a tree down. Branches in front of the lens would definitely explain the sliver of light getting in. In fact it might’ve hit the house. It sounded really close. Obviously, that would be bad, but I can tell that the camera is just obstructed. So the damage can’t be too much if it didn’t break it or damage the wiring.” He planted his fists on the table. “But I’ve just been sittin’ here reviewing every possible scenario with guess after guess. I’ve got to go out and take a look at it.” Ron gave Ann an icy stare that said more than words. “Can you stay here and look at the monitor for me, and tell me when it’s clear?”

  “You sure it’s safe?”

  His eyes shifted from ice to fire, but his voice remained steady. “Well, I checked the air quality and it’s breathable, not perfect but okay. It’s been three days, and I’ve got a gas mask. We haven’t seen or heard anything outside. It’s time to check.”

  “Okay. How do I talk to you? Phone’s don't work.”

  Ron’s face lost its tightness and his eyes stopped stabbing around the room. “Good question, my walkie-talkies won’t send a signal through this bunker either.” Ron ran his hand over his jaw and squeezed, then his eyes lit up. “Just flip this switch several times when you see me.” He pointed to a kill switch that led to the camera equipment. “The camera will turn off and on. There's a little light. When I see it, I’ll give a thumbs-up and come back down.”

  “Sounds easy enough.” Kathleen’s eyes sank. “I hope you go up there and everything’s…well nothing’s…I hope it’s okay.”

  “Me too.” Ron gave a broad smile, but, in the back of his mind, he knew that his eyes betrayed his suspicions that something felt very out of place. Whatever had made a tree fall should have attracted rescue crews. Also, before the camera got blocked cars had stopped passing by and foot traffic dropped off sharply.

  Without rushing, he walked into the small room containing his arsenal and grabbed his Tavor Assault Rifle, gas mask, and a short chainsaw for trimming trees. He turned his head sharply when the bedroom door shut and quickly stuffed a couple extra clips for the gun in his coat pocket.

  He stepped back out into the main room and Ann walked out of the bedroom adjusting her shirt. Ron noticed the calmness of her demeanor, but he saw her quickly busy her hands when they trembled a bit, and she could not smooth out the tightness around her eyes. Before exiting he walked over and gave her a kiss. “Don’t worry, I promise to come right back.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Who says I’m worried? Besides, you’ve got your big gun there, and I’ll be waiting right here when it comes back.” She flashed a naughty smile that nearly erased the tension on her face.

  Ron closed his eyes and chuckled softly. “Behave.” He paused for a second then shook his head. “All right, I gotta go. Don’t forget to flick the camera on and off several times when you see me, and then I’ll give a thumbs-up. Okay?”

  “It’s under control, watch yourself.” She gave him another long kiss and they separated.

  Cassius began to follow him, but he raised his hand. “Stay.” He pointed in Ann’s direction. “Protect.” Cassius went over and sat in front of her. Ron winked with a little smile, and turned to the exit.

  He slid on his gas mask and his peripheral vision disappeared, and he could not hear much beyond his breathing and the mask sliding around on his hair. He cranked the door open and a hiss of air rushed in as the seal broke. He raised the gun up to his shoulder and looked through the scope which made his stature more compact but still allowed him to move freely. He turned the corner while scanning the stairs with the muzzle, but only darkness greeted him. The door shut automatically behind him, extinguishing his only light, so he flicked the night vision in the scope on which washed everything in a green glow. He waved the gun up and down the length of the stairs and pressed on. On the last couple of steps, he swept the gun from side to side into the house, stepped off the stairs and turned right into the main room. He looked out a window that was full of branches which blocked the outside light from the house. He raised his gun again and peered through the scope at the next window. “Crap!” Through the scope he saw glowing green branches
which had crashed through the window and poked inside his living room. He moaned as he wiggled the branches and looked through the window. “Well, there’s an expensive repair.”

  He ducked under the branches and walked through the remainder of his house until he came to the front door where the camera sat attached outside just over the seal. He noticed a sliver of light coming through the door, and, as he got closer, he could see thin branches and leaves sticking through the crack. “Oh, that’s not good.” He stuck his hand and pushed the door, and it whined open at a funny angle. A few more branches and leaves fell inside, and he saw a thick branch pointing toward the doorway that broke in half. “A perfect hit right into the door, great!” He looked up at the camera and breathed a sigh. “Well thank God for that.”

  Ron set the chainsaw down and examined the fallen tree blocking his doorway. He could see a dark sky barely peeking through the branches, and he began shivering a bit. He pushed his way through the branches and stepped on top of the tree to look around. He peeled a few more branches back, stuck his head through, and his eyebrows arched up. “Holy shit! A fuckin’ helicopter! Holy shit!”

  Just beyond where Ron’s head popped out of the foliage a helicopter had collided with the tree that hit his house and still sat partially on top of it. It looked like a helicopter Ron associated with the news, but since most of it had crushed the way a soda can would upon impact, he could not be sure; and the rotors had bent in funny angles. Ron stood up as tall as he could on the tree trunk, and his eyes tightened at the sight of an empty cabin. The pilot-side door hung open, and he could not see a body anywhere in the yard.

  He lingered, taking in the wreck awhile longer, and stepped down shaking his head. After a few moments of contemplation, he sighed and revved up the chainsaw. He sheared off the top branches first until a window opened up in the foliage and then started pulling branches to the side and worked his way down until he could step through the area he had cut. When he had finally cut down most of the foliage, he grabbed the thick knot of branches and dragged them off to the side as they trailed behind leaving streaks in the grass.