The Decaying World Saga Box Set [Prequel #1-#2 & Books #1-#2]

by Garza, Michael W.

  “They’re everywhere,” Matt said.

  John grabbed his collar as he headed up the next staircase. “Hold on,” he said as he slowed their pace. “We don’t want to run into more trouble than we can get away from.” He eyed the dead as they got to their feet and started toward the stairs. The sounds of the zombies from the second floor grew louder as the grunts and moans combined throughout the third floor landing. John took one step at a time, eyeing the fourth floor landing over the banister before he reached the top of the stairs. “Come on.”

  He found Matt was already standing on the stair directly below him. The walking dead reached the bottom and struggled stiffly up after them. John and Matt continued in a slow but steady pace up four more flights. Each floor had its own hall crawling with the dead. Most of them were focused on the apartment doors, no doubt smelling the living flesh hidden somewhere within. John moved on, trying not to attract attention. Once they neared the top floor, he cursed for entering the building in the first place.

  “One more,” he said between deep breaths.

  He could hear Matt panting heavily behind him. The boy fell behind, rounding the landing on the floor below.

  “You said that two floors ago,” Matt said.

  “Just motivation. Would you rather stay a while where you’re at and see who comes up behind you?”

  Matt didn’t complain anymore. He took a deep breath and then hit the stairs. He was running when John reached the top floor landing and nearly slammed into him from behind.

  “Hey, watch out,” Matt said. “I almost fell back over the—”

  Matt lost his words as he noticed John holding up his hands. A look to the right over the banister revealed several people behind a makeshift barricade covering the entire hallway. They were well armed and currently aiming directly at John.

  “You injured?”

  John could barely see the man who asked. He was dark skinned and spoke with an accent that placed him as an outsider. His stained, buttoned shirt and torn suit coat looked to be fancier than the day-to-day business in town.

  “I asked you a question,” he said.

  John counted at least six others, and there was movement down the hall behind them. “No,” he said.

  “Put the gun down on the floor and step away from it.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” John said as his eyes slid back toward Matt and then returned to the barrels pointed in his direction. “I’ve got a kid here.”

  Matt took another step up and his head cleared the top of the banister. He smiled and waved. The speaker among the group eyed the boy, and the tightness in his face loosened.

  “We need to be sure,” he said.

  John placed the gun on the ground and stepped away from it. He spun around slowly and let the group inspect him. Matt came up to the landing and stood facing the barricade.

  “Walk toward me slowly, keeping your hands up.”

  John did as he was told and Matt followed closely. They stopped a foot away from the barricade and the speaker lowered his barrel.

  “We saw a person in the window waving,” John said. “I thought someone needed help.”

  “Not all of us agree about attracting attention,” the man said. He eyed a woman near the end of the barricade. “I’m guessing you have followers?”

  John nodded.

  “Get your gun and come in.”

  There was a loud screeching as three of the men forced open the barricade. John could see shopping carts, dressers, and a kitchen table among other things. The speaker stepped into the hall and waited until they were inside before he moved any farther. The barricade closed and the growing sound of the dead echoed up the stairs from a floor below.

  “The name’s Sean.”

  John shook his hand. “I’m John and this is Matt.”

  “Helen Wright.”

  John turned to find the lone female offering her hand. She was a tall woman with a natural beauty to her face. The strain of the moment was apparent in her eyes, and John couldn’t help but think that he’d seen her before.

  “Just you and your boy?” she asked.

  “He’s not my son,” John said.

  “Come on, I’ll get you two some food.” She led them off, ignoring the clear aggravation on Sean’s face as well as a few hard stares from the other men. “They don’t want to share what we have,” Helen said when they were out of earshot. “I think Sean is some kind of ex-military. He seems to think we need to be prepared to stay here for a while.”

  “Won’t they need help?” John asked, looking back at the barricade.

  Helen shook her head. “We’ve found as long as you can get far enough away from the dead, they seem to lose track of you.”

  “They smell us?” Matt asked.

  “Not sure really.” She stopped and bent down close to Matt’s face. She smiled and wiped some dried blood off his cheek. “You’re going to be okay.”

  Matt forced a smile and then looked around her at John. Helen followed the boy’s gaze.

  “Won’t he?” she asked.

  John shrugged. “I’m not in the habit of making promises.”

  Helen started again, this time taking Matt’s hand. John studied the doors in the hall and counted a total of twelve on each side. They were nearing the end of the hallway and only the last two doors were open. A few heads poked out from either door and then disappeared back inside.

  “We’ve got a watch set up on the roof,” Helen said.

  “Watching for what?” John asked.

  “Help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “Any kind we can get.”

  “Good luck with that.” They reached the open doors and stopped. “Not sure we can depend on anything right now.”

  Helen’s eyes narrowed. John saw children over her shoulder; several were on a couch watching television. Their eyes were on him.

  “You don’t know that,” she said.

  John shook his head. “You’re all going to starve up here.”

  She quickly turned her attention back to Matt. “Why don’t you go in there with the others and they’ll get you something to eat.” Matt nodded and disappeared into the apartment with the other children. Helen focused on John when Matt was out of sight. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t you think I’m freaking out? We all have to hold on to something and the children even more so.” She reached back and pulled the door until it closed to a crack. “The government will help.”

  “All I’m saying is that we don’t know what’s really going on.” For a split second, John felt guilty for knowing what started the event. “I don’t want to fill anyone’s head with a rosy ending, that’s all.”

  “There’s got to be some kind of help coming, doesn’t there?”

  John could see the desperation on her face. He looked back at the end of the hall near the stairs. Sean was backing away from the barricade and the other men were following. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “Have you tried to reach the outside world and get an update?” What he really wanted to find out was if he could use a phone to get hold of Angela, but he didn’t feel it was time to make demands.

  “Phone lines are down.” She took a deep breath and wiped her bangs from her eyes. “The internet’s down. Cell phones won’t connect. Hell, we don’t even have power in the building.”

  For the first time, John realized the only light in the hall was coming from skylights in the ceiling and the lone bank of windows along the landing behind the staircase. “What about the TV?”

  “Running off a small generator we found in one of the apartments. There’s no cable signal either; it’s just playing a DVD.”

  “Not a good use of that,” he said. “Radio?”

  She shook her head. “The only thing we can pick up is an emergency broadcast that replays over and over again.”

  He looked up through the skylight directly above him. “It’s going to get da
rk soon.”

  “There’s not much we can do about that,” she said. “Come on.” She started for the end of the hallway. “I’ll take you up to see the watch.”

  They reached the end of the hall and she motioned toward a ladder. The late afternoon light shone around the edges of a half-open hatch in the ceiling. Helen went up first, pushed open the hatch, and pulled herself the rest of the way up. John followed her, and as he pulled up into the open, a cool wind brushed across his face.

  He got up on the roof and stretched his legs. He scanned his surroundings and was surprised by the flat, open surface. He’d expected more fixtures and air conditioning units, but instead, he found a clear view from one side to the other. There was a woman stationed in the far corner, looking out over the side of the building and a man in the corner closest to the hatchway.

  “I first saw you and Matt over there,” Helen said, motioning toward the woman’s corner of the building. “I lost sight of you when you crossed between the buildings. I didn’t see you again until you were on top of that small store. By then, I’d already moved back down to the apartments.”

  “Have you seen other survivors?”

  “We’ve spotted a few, but you’re the first to show up.” She started toward the edge of the building. “I guess most people want to stay hunkered down where they are.”

  “What about help?”

  “Nothing yet.” She reached the edge of the building and looked up at the clouds. “I thought there would be helicopters or something,” she said. “You know, like in the movies.”

  John kept still and eyed the building’s edge from several feet away.

  “You don’t like heights?” she asked.

  “Not particularly.”

  She chuckled and then turned her attention on the streets far below. “I hope help comes soon.”

  “You could always make a run for it,” he said. “All I need is a set of keys and I’m in the first car that can get me home. It wasn’t that bad on the streets. The boy and I didn’t have much trouble until we got in the building. We got stuck on the roof of that store because we got ourselves cornered.”

  Helen’s cheeks flashed with surprise followed by confusion. “I’m surprised you made it here.”

  “How so?”

  “Maybe you’re right about the edge of town, but…” She thought about it and then motioned down at the street below. “Look for yourself.”

  John approached the edge of the building. He looked down on Main Street and his eyes widened as the hair on the back of his next stood erect. The straggling dead near the hardware store had not painted an accurate picture of the outbreak. He stared down on a flooded street packed with the walking dead, stretching in every direction as far as he could see. He swallowed hard.

  “Oh hell.”

  18

  John felt himself nod off and his eyes sprang open. The cloud-covered sky was black as night and the cool breeze atop the roof of the apartment building was now a freezing chill. He remembered volunteering to take a turn at watch but couldn’t remember how long he’d been at his post. He scanned the roof and saw the outline of Red Anderson. He’d introduced himself when he took over watch on the opposite corner of the building but hadn’t said much since. John checked his watch and discovered it was three in the morning. He rubbed his eyes as pain writhed across his face.

  He was surprised he’d been left alone at all. Sean had visited him several times. John guessed he was making sure he wasn’t suffering any effects of a hidden bite, but apparently, he’d satisfied his curiosity. The entire group gave John an uneasy feeling. Although Helen wanted to help others, the rest of them appeared to be quite content with keeping the food and relative safety they had to themselves.

  Moonlight broke through the clouds and pulled his attention out over the surrounding streets. Most of the windows were shrouded in the blackness, but sporadic candlelight flickered like stars in an endless night sky. John had tried to count them but found the number low enough to be disheartening. He hadn’t considered the extent of the outbreak and didn’t want to now. The only other light came from the glow of a large fire a few blocks away to the south. The surrounding buildings blocked the flames, but the size of the glow gave a good indication to the extent of the fire. John was glad for the darkness. The loss of electricity blanketed the streets below in black, and although he knew the dead were down there, he didn’t have to look at them.

  “You, John?”

  He snapped his head up to find a portly figure heading in his direction. He’d heard the man climbing out of the roof hatch but wasn’t sure if it was his replacement or not.

  “Yep,” John said.

  “Sean said you can sleep in apartment 824.”

  John nodded and made for the hatch. He climbed down to the hallway and found the cold followed him. The building was little more than a barricade from the wind without the electricity. Several of the apartment doors were open. The glow of candlelight radiated out into the hall. John buried his hands in his pockets and started reading the door numbers.

  “You’re in there.” John looked over to find Helen’s head sticking out of a doorway. “Your boy’s already in there.”

  “He’s not my boy.”

  “Sorry.”

  He found the door cracked open. He pushed the knob and the moonlight revealed a man and woman sleeping on a mattress on the floor on one side of the living room. Two small children lay in between the couple; each looked up at him as the door opened.

  “I think you’re set up in the master bedroom,” Helen said behind him.

  “What about food?” he asked.

  Helen slid back in her door and disappeared only to reappear a few seconds later with a wrapped sandwich. “It’s not much, but it will keep you from starving.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sean says you can stay.”

  The comment struck John oddly. He hadn’t been under the impression that the group was considering throwing him out.

  “I got to get home,” he said.

  “How you going to do that?”

  John leaned against the doorframe and looked at her. He wasn’t sure why she was so interested in him. “First, I’m going to try and get a few hours of sleep, then I’m going to try and find the safest way to get through town and out toward my house.” He turned his back on her. “And I’m going to hope like hell my family is still safe and waiting for me.” Even when he said it, the words sounded hollow. He couldn’t feel the words or the emotion that was supposed to be behind them, but it felt like the right thing to say.

  The room was dark and instantly John felt his awareness heighten. He told himself he was safe, but he couldn’t figure out how to let his guard down. Someone lying in the living room shifted and the small sound echoed in his mind. The drapes were pulled tight, but a small sliver of light broke through the material where it met the floor. John gave his eyes a moment to adjust and slowly crept in the direction of the hallway.

  The apartment was small; he counted three doors in the narrow hall. He guessed two were bedrooms and the lone door at the end was a small bathroom. Both bedroom doors were open and neither contained a full bed. The first room had a mattress on the floor and the couple lying on it looked to be holding one another tightly. John walked past without making much noise and found Matt waiting for him in the second room.

  “Where you been?” Matt asked.

  “Shhh.”

  “Where you been?”

  John sat down on the edge of the bed and realized it was only a box spring.

  “Not too comfortable,” Matt said, guessing his discovery.

  John slid his boots off and laid the shotgun down on the floor. He unwrapped the sandwich and gave it a smell. He took a bite, hoping the boy would let him go to sleep without much chatter. “You going to let me sleep?”

  Matt clammed up, leaned back on the bed, and rolled away from John. There was a series of noises coming from the front room of the apartment. John l
istened for a moment and shut the bedroom door.

  “Don’t wake me,” he said and then leaned back and fell into a nightmare-plagued slumber.

  ♦

  The light from the window broke away from the crack beneath the heavy drapes, and John ignored it as long as he could before bothering to sit up. The apartment was quiet and for a moment, he forgot where he was. He rubbed his hands over his face and stretched. His shoulders popped as he reached for the sky, and he thought about lying back down.

  His sleep was anything but peaceful. Alex had gotten out, John remembered as much of his nightmare as he could. The boy had eaten his mother and was somewhere on the loose. John had searched for him, but a pack of the dead overran him. He knew he had to get home soon. The nightmare was a representation of his fears. Alex had nothing to eat and John didn’t know what Angela was capable of doing. The trick, he knew, was figuring out how to get home without becoming someone’s lunch.

  He got to his feet and found his gun. The apartment was empty. He rummaged through the kitchen, but the cupboards were bare. There was something in the fridge, inside a small piece of Tupperware, but the fuzzy white surface warned him against opening it. He stepped out of the apartment and surveyed the scene. The main hall of the floor was alive with movement. Two men, including his watch replacement from the night before, were making their way toward the barricade. At the other end of the hall, a few kids kicked a ball back and forth.

  “Thought you might need some extra sleep; you looked pretty wretched this morning.”

  John recognized Helen’s voice and turned to find her stepping out of an apartment a few doors away.

  “What time is it?”

  Helen checked her watch. “3:45.”

  “PM?”

  She laughed. “You needed it. Don’t worry; you’ll have a chance to pay the others back. I’m sure Sean will get you on a watch rotation.”

  “You sure have settled into a routine pretty quick,” he said. “This all started a few days ago. Not sure if it represents the end of the world or anything.”