The impact on the sidewalk was far worse than the one before it. Rowan hit flatfooted and went down, sending one of his knees up into the bottom of his chin. Warm blood filled his mouth from somewhere along his lips as he lay flat on his back. His eyes were open and his blurred vision painted a terrible picture.
The dead had not given up. The first zombie stepped out of the broken panel on the first floor like it was expecting to continue its stroll through the air. The decomposing body plummeted toward Rowan, and he barely had time to roll before the figure hit the ground with a solid thud. The result got Rowan up, despite the intense pain, but the zombie didn’t fare as well. The dive had been in poor form, ending in a headfirst landing. Its skull burst open like an overripe fruit resulting in a colorful display of brains and bits of hair and skin.
A combined howl signaled that the remaining members of the undead group had leapt from the building in a gaggle. Rowan forced himself to run, knowing several of the divers were sure to land on one another saving them from the fate of the first jumper. He ran south along the sidewalk across the street. He had a vague idea of how Mia would try to reach the tribe, but he wasn’t certain what she would do if forced to go in another direction.
He kept a moderate pace, partly because of the constant movement around him, but mostly because his body wouldn’t allow him to move any faster. Rowan slid between the shadows of the buildings, dashing out in the open only when there was no other way to go. He stopped from time to time, studying the details of any figures out in the light. He ignored groups, sure they were part of the infected invasion. He looked for slow movements, any signs of someone trying to hide themselves away. If Mia were out in the open, she would have to move in quick bursts and stay hidden as she waited to move again. He was following the exact same pattern.
The first rays of morning light caught Rowan by surprise. He was closer to the tribe’s buildings than he guessed. He was more surprised by how hard he’d pushed himself throughout the night. There was no sign of Mia and thoughts of where she might be played havoc on his mind. Exhaustion was setting in and Rowan feared he might not get his legs moving again if he risked a long stop.
He’d nearly given in to fatigue when a new light grabbed hold of his attention. The fire was larger than any he’d ever seen. The flames filled the sky covering the rooftops of several structures. It took Rowan several stunned moments to realize it was the tribe’s building tops lighting up the darkness. He was running before he knew what he was doing.
Rowan rounded the corner of an adjacent building and reached the middle of the street before he caught sight of several people rushing in and out of the ground floor entrance. A wave of fury resonated around the base of the structure. Rowan came to a sliding stop nearly toppling over his feet. Had the host of infected not been in the midst of depraved delight, he would have been spotted for certain.
He backed away, tiptoeing at first and then running as fast as his weary body would carry him. He reached the side of the main tribal building and pressed his back against the wall. The sound of the infected surrounded him, distracting his every thought. Something told him he had to reach the rooftop, but he wasn’t sure how. Darian’s face suddenly popped into his head. The pair had snuck off and back on to the building many times, and the front entrance was far from their favorite means of escape.
Rowan slid along the wall to one of the many broken exterior windows. He popped his head in for a quick look before hopping in. The sounds echoing through the hollowed-out interior told him the infected had already entered the building. His eyes bulged as he tried to see through the darkness. Several quick steps brought him to one of the four stairwells, two of which were cleared enough to reach the highest floors.
He went up three steps at a time and reached the fourth floor before the first signs of trouble. They were moving upward, Rowan could hear the gaggle only a floor above him. He listened for them to stop, but they never did. Rowan followed at a distance, moving as quickly as the infected were capable of climbing. It wasn’t until they were near the top of the building that he realized there was something quite different about his guides. The problem in Rowan’s mind was the silence. The dead-speak he’d heard all his life was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t until they came to a stop that an unmistakable set of directions resonated down the stairs.
“Go…that way.”
The simple direction was clear, and its impact shook Rowan to his core. The voice was full of all the dread of the infected, but the words were as clear as his own. The group separated, some running off toward the south side of the building, the second heading west. It was impossible to tell if any had stayed behind.
Rowan trembled, the words still clinging to his mind. They could speak; they could communicate with one another in a far more complex way than the tribe ever thought possible. Is this what Jacob meant by what was coming? Rowan took one slow step up, reaching the platform between floors. He leaned out away from the railing and an open doorway came into view. Rowan held still, watching the doorway for several moments without any sign of movement.
He started up the last of the stairs. Access to the three highest floors was blocked. The only official way to reach the tribal rooftop was through a series of ladders hanging off the southern side of the building. In truth, there was another more treacherous way, one Rowan hoped neither the tribe’s council nor the infected had discovered.
Rowan knew the moment his foot hit the landing at the top of the stairs that he was trapped. The first roar erupted from the floor below and a heartbeat after a figure rushed in from the doorway ahead of him. Rowan dove out of the way, slamming into the stairwell wall a second before an outstretched hand grabbed his arm. He ran back at the figure, catching a glimpse of the infected female in the light from the hall. A raggedy mane of hair hung down over her putrid face and a wide-open mouth provided a view of her blackened teeth.
Rowan slipped his shoulder underneath her outstretched arm as she tried to turn and face him. The impact knocked the wind from her lungs and hoisted her off her feet. Rowan couldn’t count the number of bobbing heads rushing up the stairs from the floor below, but there were enough to ensure he wouldn’t survive unless he got out now. The woman hit the ground and thrashed around as she tried to get back up. Rowan burst into the hall to find several other infected dashing toward him from the far end.
The race was on, and Rowan felt the pain rising in his body with every step. He made a quick turn only partly paying attention to where he was going. He’d passed through these rooms more times than he could remember. He knew precisely where he was trying to get to, but he didn’t know who or what would be waiting for him when he got there.
Light intensified as he neared the exterior face of the building. The light came from the roaring fires above and Rowan surmised that he might not have long before the building toppled in on itself. He found the room he sought and headed for the busted out window near the corner. Rowan leapt up and nearly fell out of the window before he grabbed the frame. He made a frantic search along the exterior wall for the rope he was sure was there. His hand slid over it once, and he nearly lost it when the first sign of his pursuers appeared in the doorway. A howl erupted from the infected that nearly pushed Rowan into a long plunge to his death on the street far below.
Rowan grabbed the rope and flipped his body out into the cold air a blink before the first pair of hands reached him. They lashed at him from the window as he started to ascend. Rowan never looked down, keeping his eyes focused on the two-story climb above him. He’d seen the view below on a few occasions, and the vision of it would only make the hike more difficult.
Hand over hand he went, the firelight intensifying with each grip. Every muscle in his body tensed, flexing with ache, begging to stop. He pushed everything away, blocking out the terrible screams below. None of it would break him.
Rowan pulled himself up along the lip of the rooftop and found the familiar hut he and Darian had tied off the secret
rope behind many seasons before. The chaotic sounds from three stories below were lost on the wind. Fire raged in every direction, hiding the main view of the tribe’s council until he stepped away from the edge of the roof. The sight took Rowan’s breath away.
The council platforms were ablaze, most of them already burnt to the ground. The rooftop was littered with bodies, tribal members mixed between a mass of infected carcasses. Rowan was frozen; a mix of anguish and hate filled him as he caught glimpses of people he’d known his entire life. There was no sign of movement anywhere. The connecting bridges between the core tribal buildings were severed, but the fires blazing along the other rooftops spoke to the fate of the rest of the tribe.
Rowan managed a few steps, focusing his attention on the ladder entrance to the council’s platforms. The rise and ladder holdings had all been destroyed, a telling sign that the tribe knew they were trapped. He couldn’t figure out how the infected reached the rooftop without detection in the first place. A slight groan pulled his attention away from the mystery.
The worst of the flames were near the center of the rooftop, spreading quickly from hut to hut. Rowan focused on the sound, trying to locate it before it died away. He took a few steps toward the platforms before the growing heat forced him to stop. The groan grew louder, and it lasted long enough for him to get a good reading on where it was coming form.
Rowan worked clockwise around the outer ring of fine, bringing himself back to the edge of the building. He had to shield his face in order to reach the opposite side. The groaning continued and the source was revealed to be someone stuck under one side of a platform already collapsed. Rowan recognized Garret and rushed in to help him. Garret’s eyes focused on Rowan as he approached, and the shock was apparent. His savior was the last person he expected, and he made no attempt to hide it.
“What are you doing here?”
Rowan ignored the question, instead slipping his hands under the wide board lying on top of him.
“I won’t be able to lift this myself,” Rowan said. “You’ll have to push with everything you have left.”
He counted off with head nods, and the two lifted together. The board moved an inch, but it was enough for Garret to pull himself out from under it. Rowan’s strength was maxed, and when he dropped the platform, he collapsed from the strain.
“Who’s saving who?” Garret asked as they sat up next to one another. The two took in the tumultuous view. “We have to get out of here.”
“We have to look for other survivors,” Rowan countered.
“Some of them got out,” Garret said. “But most of them didn’t.” He had to clear his voice to keep it from cracking. “They took them.” He swore under his breath. “The infected rounded them up and took them.”
“How did it happen?” Rowan asked.
Garret shook his head but didn’t offer an answer. “Wait here and catch your breath.” He stood up and nearly tumbled to the ground when he put weight on his legs. “I’ll take one last look around.”
Rowan wasn’t sure he was in any shape to go off alone, but Garret walked away before he could get out another question. By the time he returned, Rowan was up. The look on Garret’s face spoke volumes.
“There’s no one left.”
Rowan didn’t want to ask the next question, but he forced himself to anyway.
“What about Mia? Jonah?”
Garret shrugged. “I didn’t see her.” He thought about it. “I didn’t see either of them.”
Rowan ran his eyes along the eastern edge of the building. Most of the huts were burning, but it looked like they still had time to get in behind them. “I know another way down,” he said. “Can’t be sure it will be safe.”
Garret slid a knife out from the sheath strapped to his leg and nodded.
“I’m ready.”
Rowan took one last look at the burning remains of the Cheyenne Tribe and then settled his mind on the way ahead.
“Let’s go.”
10
The crudely constructed tunnels were only large enough to crawl through in some places. Jacob stayed out in front, and the old man’s steady pace impressed Mia. He was never fast, by any stretch of the imagination, but his determination showed in his relentlessness. The sounds of the infected mob were lost after the first few turns.
The time drug by, as the tunnel seemed to go on forever. It wasn’t until the strength in Mia’s legs began to fail that she marveled at the sheer size of the labyrinth. Whoever created the tunnels spent an unimaginable amount of time at its construction. She was even more surprised that she’d never heard of such a place running beneath the city that her tribe had lived in since the time of the great infection. Jacob continued as if they might travel clear beyond the boundaries of Cheyenne. It took Mia a while to build up the nerve to break the silence between them.
“Where are we?”
Jacob didn’t reply, nor did he stop moving. His pace had slowed for a while, and his deep bowing walk looked painful. The light from the lantern swayed from one wall to the other with every step. Mia came to stop and something in her sudden stillness grabbed Jacob’s attention.
“What?”
He spun around, half startled as if expecting her to warn him of someone’s approach.
“Where are we?” she repeated. “Will this take us to the tribal council’s building?” The expression on his face didn’t convince her that he knew the proper answer.
The old man’s frustration flared up in the deep creases along his forehead. “There are many exits,” he said. “We’ll head for the safest one.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” she said, sharply.
Jacob set the lantern down on the dirt floor and then stretched his hands over his head as best he could in the cramped space. A series of pops and cracks followed, one that startled him. It took a moment for Jacob to get his hands back down by his sides.
“It’s probably too late.”
The plainness of his statement struck Mia in the gut. She started to object but discovered she lacked the words.
“But…” was all that crept out.
Jacob held his hands up to stop her. “I’ll get you close enough. If there’s anything we can do, I’ll help you.”
The look on his face spoke volumes. He already believed they were dead. Mia could see it as plain as if he’d said it out loud. She managed to find her voice.
“How much longer?”
Jacob picked the lantern up and started again, replying over his shoulder. “Not much.”
The end of the tunnel came as abruptly as it had started. The entire maze spilt off only three times and the last turn brought them to a dead end. Jacob slid his hands along an indention in the wall and found another one higher up. He set the lantern down and blew the light out before starting his climb.
It wasn’t until Mia took a few steps forward that she found a thin line of light far up in the darkness. Jacob grunted to himself as he climbed. Mia found him in the darkness as his figure interrupted the lone light above. She locked on to him and watched like a hawk until he reached the top. Jacob waited in silence for a long time before finally trying to move the cover over the tunnel.
The light hit Mia in a flash, forcing her to hold her hand out above her. The sensation faded and Jacob was nowhere to be found. She could see nothing from her vantage save for the light. It was an agonizing wait until Jacob’s bearded face popped down into the hole. He waved her up before peering over his shoulder at something beyond her view.
Mia climbed, slowly feeling for each handhold in the wall as she went. Her eyes remained on Jacob and his on something going on behind him. Mia neared the opening, and the sounds of what was waiting filtered down to her ears. The dead-speak was clear, but she’d never heard it continue for so long. It came in waves, in multiple layers of communication she couldn’t hope to grasp. The opening at the top of the climb was narrower than the end of the tunnel. Mia had to reach both arms straight up and maneuver her
shoulders in order to get out, up to her waist. She stopped at the midpoint to take in the spectacle that had Jacob’s full attention.
Jacob kept his promise. He brought them up close enough to see all three of the Cheyenne Tribe’s main buildings. The lightening sky surprised her, quickly confirming the length of time they’d spent down in the tunnels. The fiery blaze along the rooftops was next to grab her attention, but it was a scream between the wave of dead-speak that brought her eyes down to the ground. Mia slipped the rest of her body out of the hole and nearly knocked Jacob over trying to get to a window on the far wall.
The room was a portion of a much larger building. Mia had been in and around every structure surrounding the foundation of the tribe’s home, but she couldn’t place the particular site in her hurried state. Her eyes slid up to the edge of the window, staring out the opening at a violent scene. A number of bodies littered the ground around a long-abandoned park, most of which were being hovered over by figures gouging into them. Another scream rang out from the open space, converging on a woman pressed against a stone fountain, which dominated the center of the square.
Several of the infected were closing in, all of them strolling calmly as if to extend the horrifying torture of the moment. Mia had no desire to watch what was coming, but she couldn’t force herself to look away. Somehow, she was sure that she knew the woman, and Mia felt blessed that the darkness consumed her face. The woman crawled backwards up and over the stone lip of the dried basin beneath the statue of a crumbling man. The infected lined around her, stopping at the edge to watch her squirm. A small group of undead lumbered toward the prey, but the infected pushed them away. This was the determination of a clearly thinking creature, and the horror of it was not lost on Mia. One of them stepped up onto the lip of the basin and glared down at their victim before leaning his head back and roaring some vile cheer of irreverence.
The Decaying World Saga Box Set [Prequel #1-#2 & Books #1-#2] Page 52
