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

by Garza, Michael W.

  It took a moment to piece the clatter together, but as best as he could tell, someone was talking. It was low, barely a whisper. Rowan focused in on the source and continued cautiously, sweeping the grass aside before every step. The sound grew louder and the words filtered in and out.

  “Go ahead.”

  Rowan froze again.

  “Red…go…”

  He scanned the grass line, finding no sign of movement, but the speaker continued sporadically.

  “Report.”

  Rowan took another series of steps and stopped. His pause had little to do with the stream of conversation and more to do with a clear sign of fresh blood. The grass parted at an open row running east and west. Rowan’s eyes were on a streak of crimson several feet down from where he stepped out. The voice spoke again and focused Rowan’s eyes on a spot beyond the blood.

  “Return and…”

  The words died abruptly, replaced by a continuous hushing noise. Rowan looked down both ends of the gap before risking a step out into the open. He crossed the small clearing with a few paces and pushed in behind the bloodstained grass. He found the source of the noise in one quick glance.

  A small black device lay on the ground, one end marked with blood. Rowan reached for it, and the hushing noise cut off the moment he picked it up. It was heavier than he thought it should be with a series of small buttons across the top of one side. He flipped it over and discovered the other side cracked down the center. He shook it but couldn’t get the sound to return. Rowan was about to toss the thing back on the ground when it suddenly sparked to life in a way he couldn’t possibly imagine.

  “Come in red two.”

  An astonishing fright caused Rowan to leap backwards, dropping the contraption as he did. He forgot all about the figure he was chasing for a moment. All he could think of was a single question. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the same question rolling around in his mind come echoing over his shoulder.

  “Did that thing just talk?”

  Rowan spun around to find Mia’s face peeking out through the grass into the clearing. Her eyes weren’t on him, instead focused on the thing he’d found.

  “Get over here,” he said. Mia stepped out and rushed to his side, her eyes still on the ground. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted and then scooped it up. “Whatever it is, it isn’t helping me find your brother.” He slipped it into his pack and grabbed her hand. “Stay close to me.”

  They hadn’t taken more than a few steps before a new spectacle caused them to pause. It was a boot or at least the bottom of one. The muddy sole stuck out between two patches of grass. Rowan held still for a long time, even as Mia tried to push past him. He could tell by the size of the boot that it wasn’t Jonah. He made Mia stay where she was and decided to get a closer look.

  Rowan crouched low toward the ground and pushed the grass aside. He heard Mia gasp as she crept up behind him and they caught sight of what was left of a man lying in the mud. He was dressed in a bizarre set of shirt and pants, comprised of a dizzying number of small, stitched squares in the color families of green, brown, and black. There wasn’t much to look at above the collar. Most of the flesh around the skull was peeled away. The fresh blood said the kill was recent, but it didn’t explain why the attackers weren’t still feeding. Most important, the discovery wasn’t going to help them find Jonah. Both problems were solved a moment later.

  “Rowan?”

  He heard his whispered name a split second before two faces pushed out into the open on the other side of the body lying on the ground. Jonah’s terrified eyes locked on to Rowan before snapping toward another face pressing between the tall stalks of grass beside him. The infected man announced himself with a vicious roar, and the eruption sent a striking panic through the unsuspecting onlookers.

  The violet lines beneath its dying skin pulsated with craving excitement as the infected man came to his feet. His abhorrent body was exposed in the light, revealing the details of the crisscrossing veins that marked its kind. The smears of blood and clumps of skin spread across his face gave the beast away as the recent feeder. He grabbed Jonah’s shirt before the boy’s mind could process what was happening.

  Rowan leapt forward without a thought for his own safety. His jump flung him directly into the side of the infected man, and the impact dropped both of them directly on top of Jonah. Rowan tried to get to his knees, but the infected man was too quick, grabbing him and Jonah with both hands. Rowan felt his leg yank out from under him and a second later he was lying on his back with Jonah kicking him in the face as the boy tried to run away.

  A flood of screams from Jonah mixed with his sister’s cries. Rowan came face to face with the creature as it crawled on top of him. He reached out, pushing Jonah away from the infected man as it lunged in for a bite. Rowan got his hand up on its chest before its rotting teeth could take a chunk out of his face. It wasn’t until that moment that Rowan realized he’d dropped his knife sometime between his heroic jump and his less than impressive landing.

  The rage-filled strength of the thing was far beyond Rowan’s, and he knew at once that he couldn’t hold him off for more than a few seconds. Its jaws snapped over and again, each time drawing closer to Rowan’s skin. Lines of saliva dripped from its lips, crossing Rowan’s cheeks as it forced itself down on him. A foul stench poured out of its mouth and saturated every inch of the small, open space.

  Rowan was pinned. He turned his head to keep himself from getting eaten. The infected man finally won the war of attrition then it suddenly shuddered and roared in pain. Rowan saw his knife dug deep into its side as he scrambled to get out from under the infected man. Jonah held on to the hilt of the knife with his eyes impossibly wide. He pulled the blade free and then jabbed it in again, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “Get off him!”

  Rowan got to his knees but couldn’t react fast enough to stop the infected’s response. The creature lashed out, hitting Jonah across the face with the back of his hand. It was up on its feet a second later, its bloodstained, naked body exposed for all to see. It lunged for the boy, and Jonah stood frozen, his face etched in the horror consuming his mind.

  Mia knocked Rowan to the ground. She hit the infected man squarely in the back with the full force of her slender body. She clung to the vile thing, riding him to the ground, beating on its head with vicious blows, and stabbing it in the neck with her blade. The creature lay motionless by the time Rowan got to her, its head drowning in a pool of blood. Mia stared down at the body, sucking in gulps of air. Rowan pulled her away, grabbing Jonah as they turned. He got down on a knee and stared the boy in the eyes, forcing him to look away from the infected.

  “We made a lot of noise,” he explained in a measured tone. “There will be more of them and we can’t let them surround us.”

  Jonah didn’t say anything, but he managed a nod. He opened his hand and held out Rowan’s knife. The boy’s gaze was miles away, lost somewhere in the horror of what he’d done. Rowan took the knife and gave him a confident grin.

  “We’re going to be all right,” he added for good measure. “Take your sister’s hand and stay close.”

  Mia’s eyes were as wild as her brother’s, but she appeared to be able to keep it together. Rowan was struck by the image of her: in one hand she held onto the knife that brought the infected man down, her arm stained in crimson up to the elbow, and in the other hand she held onto the frightened boy. He motioned for them to go, and the trio pushed out into the open row in the tall grass and set their sights on the edge of the city and the buildings that promised some small measure of protection.

  They only managed a few steps before a new sound echoed over the top of the grass. The low guttural moan brought with it a chilling effect. The dead were closing in and it was impossible to tell which direction they were coming from. Rowan moved in close to Mia, keeping Jonah between them. The chorus of moans grew louder with every step. The grass shifted from side to side all aroun
d them and the fear built in Rowan’s mind until he was unable to control it.

  “Go!”

  Rowan forced them to run, pushing both from behind. Hands reached out for them from all sides, pressing through the grass, trying to grab hold of anything. The death chant rose to a furious crescendo as the longing for flesh overcame the unseen mass. Hunched as low to the ground as she could manage, Mia burst out into the open screaming wildly. Jonah reached the end of the road next and was nearly run over by Rowan as he made his escape.

  The dead poured out of the grassland like an invading army. Half-eaten bodies staggered between those lucky enough to die with the full use of their limbs. A number of organs dragged along the ground as the first wave reached the street. Rowan spun around long enough to know he had to keep them moving.

  ♦

  The clouds parted and the light washed over the dead city as a wave of heat overtook the roadways. Mia kept to the center of the street. She never let go of Jonah’s hand nor did she bother to see if anything was following them. Rowan shouted out directions from time to time, keeping them on course. He waited until he was certain they’d escaped the trailing pack of undead before his thoughts turned to Arkin and the hunting party he’d left behind. Rowan was convinced Mia and Jonah had to reach the safety of the tribe before anyone knew they were missing.

  “I have to stop.”

  The declaration from Jonah was quickly followed by a projection of everything the boy had in his stomach. He bent at the waist, spewing onto the street as Mia stood beside him, gently rubbing his back. Rowan’s eyes were on the view behind them. He couldn’t hear the chorus of the dead or the dreadful speak of the infected, but there was no way to be certain they were safe. Rowan hadn’t processed anything he’d seen and the sudden break in the hurried commotion brought with it a review of recent events.

  He’d been correct about the infected gathering. There was no questioning it now; Arkin had seen it with his own eyes. The council of elders might hold Darian’s death against him, but they couldn’t accuse him of lying. He couldn’t shake the annoying feeling in his gut that Arkin wasn’t going to let up. Arkin was looking for a way to get rid of him and this was his chance.

  Rowan settled his gaze on Mia. She stroked her brother’s hair out of his face as he stood up to breathe. Her love for him was something Rowan adored about her. She had as much love for the Cheyenne Tribe as she did for her brother. Her place among their people was as clear as any of the council members. Rowan always assumed they’d find some way to be together, but he was starting to doubt that. The problem was he didn’t know how to tell her.

  “We better keep going,” Mia said. “We’re not far from home.”

  They started moving once Jonah assured her he was able to walk. The high-rise buildings that held their tribal home was easy to spot. They were close enough to make out movement along the edge of the rooftops. Rowan’s only hope was they’d made it back before the hunting party. He already knew he’d be confronted for leaving the others, but he didn’t want to be blamed for Mia and Jonah’s near death experience. If they were fast enough, he’d encourage Mia to take her brother home and he’d wait it out on the streets below. His confidence in his plan fell apart the moment they reached the sidewalk across from the central tribal building.

  “Get over here, now.”

  Arkin’s stare was fiercer than any infected could ever match. Mia lowered her gaze and hurried Jonah across the street toward their father. Rowan stayed where he was. Arkin was alone, with no clues indicating if he was the only survivor of the hunting party or if he’d simply excused the others so he could take care of this problem by himself. Mia tried to speak up when she reached her father, but the words were forced from her mouth by the backside of Arkin’s hand.

  Rowan started forward without considering what he was doing. Mia fell to the ground and Jonah got between his father and sister. Rowan reached the center of the street before Arkin addressed him. The elder unsheathed his sword from his waist with the fluid motion of a master. The sudden realization of what was happening froze Rowan mid-step.

  “You have embarrassed my family for the last time,” Arkin said.

  “Father, please,” Mia begged as she struggled to stand. “You can’t do this.”

  “Shut your mouth and go or I’ll kill him where he stands.”

  Tears streamed down her face as she looked from her father to Rowan.

  “Just go, everything will be all right,” Rowan said, not believing a word of it.

  Jonah took her hand and pulled. The boy couldn’t bring himself to look at Rowan. Their walk into the building was painful for Rowan to watch. He wasn’t sure he’d ever see them again. Arkin remained silent until Mia’s sobs were lost somewhere inside the building.

  “You’re a danger to the entire tribe.”

  Rowan didn’t move. He didn’t believe Arkin would kill him in cold blood, but the look in the elder’s eyes was feral. He focused on the tip of the sword, still pointed directly at him. The wind whipped the dust from one side of the street to the other. It felt like the entire city was waiting to see what Arkin was going to do. Rowan found enough courage to speak.

  “The infected are gathering, just like I said.” He waited for a reaction that didn’t come. “Darian’s death wasn’t my fault.”

  “They were hunting, nothing else,” Arkin said.

  “They’ve never hunted like this.” Rowan shook his head. “Something’s happening. I think something terrible is coming.”

  “You don’t know anything,” Arkin countered. “You’ve been nothing but a burden to this tribe. You’ve been a plague to my family.”

  Rowan was speechless. He knew then he’d never be a part of the Cheyenne Tribe again. Arkin would have his way. His knees felt suddenly weak as the weight of what was happening pressed down on him.

  “This is crazy,” Rowan said and then took a step forward. Arkin stood his ground. “The tribe could be in danger.”

  Arkin slowly lowered his sword. “That’s no longer any of your concern.” He kept his eyes trained on Rowan with a stare that could bore a hole through his head. “Don’t go near her ever again.” He turned his back on Rowan and started for the building.

  Rowan knew Mia was the root of her father’s anger. He’d never wanted his only daughter tied to the worthless boy that cost him his wife. Rowan realized he was about to lose everything he’d ever known. He balled his fists and screamed at the top of his lungs.

  “You can’t leave me out here to die.”

  Arkin reached the entryway and paused. He never looked back, already considering the matter over and done.

  “You’re already dead.”

  5

  Rowan was alone. He’d felt alone every moment since his parents died, but this was different. He had no tribe; he had no one looking out for him. Most important, he’d lost Mia.

  He spent the remainder of the day wandering the city streets. He settled into a pattern, never letting the top of the tribe’s buildings out of view. The sun began its descent and took with it the last of the warmth. Rowan wasn’t prepared for the cold, he wasn’t prepared for anything. The increasing grumble from his stomach told him that the cold wouldn’t be the worst of his concerns.

  Darkness set in and the fading light brought with it sporadic firelight along the rooftops. Rowan decided he would have to get to higher ground if he expected to survive the night. He settled on a five-story building close to the tribe, one he and Darian had explored many times. The top floor had become a hideout for a number of the tribe’s youth when they were still too young to be of any real use.

  The entrance was pitch-black and the soundless first floor produced a chilling fear. Rowan slipped his bow over his shoulder and drew his knife. His hands were covered in dried blood. The sight of it caused a stir in his gut and it took him a moment to remember the blood was not his own.

  He stepped between the broken glass doors and into the interior of the building. He fr
oze in the opening trying to calm himself. Under normal circumstances, he’d never enter a building by himself; he’d always had Darian to watch his back. One wrong move could leave him trapped. It was uncommon to run into the infected deep in the city, but from everything he’d seen in the past few days, there was no telling what he could expect. The tribe used hunting parties to rid the surrounding areas of the dead, but there were always a few of the walking corpses that managed to stay hidden.

  The difference between the dead and the infected was something taught to every member of the tribe from the moment they began to speak. Rowan always figured it was the same process for every tribe. The season of the plague was the name given to the event. It came without warning during the height of human existence. They said it began with a single child, growing with such viciousness that the entire world was overcome with infection in less than a year.

  No one really died. Death meant you would rise as a biter, the undead who longed for the taste of living flesh. Those who were attacked by the infected would transform, rising again, still alive, but infected with a lust for blood. This was the fate of all humanity, and Rowan, like every member of the Cheyenne Tribe, knew it well. It was his fate too.

  He gathered his courage and forced himself to move. He knew the interior of the building well and calculated that his safest bet was the stairwell on the far end of the main hall. From there, he could get to the top floor and into the rooms he’d visited many times in his youth. The relative safety would let him put his guard down long enough to shut his eyes and get some much needed rest. He would then have the time to consider everything that happened and what, if anything, he could do about it.

  The five-story climb took longer than expected. A hole in the roof provided the only light, and the glow of the moon left shadows lingering along every turn. Rowan reached the top floor with frayed nerves. Only his shattered heart matched his weary mind. He found the locks in place on the outer door and knew the rooms along the top floor were still safe.