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

by Garza, Michael W.

  The camp was set up into distinct positions. The mounted soldiers controlled one entire end of the camp, their horses tied along a series of posts. The ground soldiers were positioned along the front line. It was difficult to spot the details of their armament, but only a portion of them carried guns. The others were armed with knives and bows and arrows.

  A number of smaller gatherings dotted the snow between the soldiers and larger tents in the rear of the encampment. Jonah was surprised to find kids, some much younger than him, fighting over food. Several of the soldiers delighted in the sport of throwing scraps out into the snow to watch the young ones nearly kill one another over the opportunity to get something to eat. He shuddered at the thought of having to join one of the groups.

  “We should probably let you starve.”

  Kegan’s voice snuck up on the boys. He was a few steps away before either of them saw him. He was holding a chunk of meat, slicing through it with his knife. Steam rose from the skin as he cut into it.

  “Not sure why either of you are worth the trouble really,” he said. “What is it Olric wants with you?” He crouched down in front of Jonah, still focused on his food. He finished his cut and then slid the bite into his mouth. “Come on now, it might be worth some food.”

  Jonah shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Kegan leered an awful smile. “Don’t lie to me boy,” he said, holding his blade up in front of his face. “I’ll slice one of your ears off.”

  He dropped the meat into the snow and then grabbed the side of Jonah’s face. Kegan sliced into Jonah’s earlobe before he realized what was happening. Jonah tried to pull away from his grasp, screaming as he did. Blood ran down the blade before he stopped.

  “Leave him alone,” Tate yelled as he struggled against his bindings.

  Kegan pulled back and admired the blood. He eyed Tate coldly. “There doesn’t seem to be any good reason why we need the both of you,” he concluded. “I’ll ask you again,” he said to Jonah. “Tell me why Olric is interested in you or I’ll cut your friend open.”

  Kegan reached out for Tate and Jonah gave in. “He thinks there’s something special about Rowan.”

  Kegan stopped. “Who, this one?” he asked, pointing the tip of his knife at Tate.

  Jonah shook his head again. “No.”

  Kegan pulled back. “What’s so special about Rowan?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted and then blurted out, “I swear I don’t. It was something to do with his blood.”

  “You know about the nexus?” Kegan asked.

  Jonah nodded.

  Kegan stood up and smiled. “Well then, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

  He took a step forward and the moment his boot hit the snow a blaring horn rang out in the distance. Kegan stopped and his head spun around awkwardly, trying to look in several directions at once. He lost complete interest in the boys as a noticeable concern washed across his gaunt face. He slipped his knife in a sheath attached to his belt and made a full turn.

  “Shit,” he grumbled under his breath, still searching for direction. “That’s all I need.”

  The horn sounded again, and this time Kegan’s eyes locked on to something. Jonah followed his stare to a group of riders beyond the eastern edge of the camp. The last of the evening light hid the details of the new arrivals, but there was a noticeable tension sweeping across the camp. Kegan took one hesitant step away from the boys before looking back.

  “We’ll finish this later.”

  Jonah heard the threat, but his attention was still on the horsemen. The group strode through the camp at a leisurely pace. Their presence had an immediate impact on the soldiers. Men and women scurried into their meager tents, and those forced to remain out in the open did their best to look busy.

  “What do you think that’s all about?” Tate asked.

  Jonah shrugged. The head of the group was close enough to make out, and the initial look indicated they were military men. They wore the uniform of the larger force, but their insignias and patches were far more impressive. The headman observed the crowd with an inspective eye, not one of the soldiers daring to hold his gaze.

  He wore a terrible scowl on his square-jawed face. His uniform clung to him in a perfect fit, not a single thread out of place. A number of weapons adorned both the belt around his waist and the bags slung along his saddle. The men flanking him appeared to offer comments about the state of the camp, but he neither acknowledged them nor responded.

  A series of commotions drew Jonah’s attention to the larger tents at the rear of the camp. Several flaps pulled open at the entrances of the shelters and a familiar figure stepped out from the largest of the bunch. Dr. Olric set his good eye on the arrivals and started toward them. The paths of both sides met directly out in front of the boys.

  Dr. Olric stood in front of the lead horse eyeing the animal with some disdain. He glanced up at its rider with fleeting interest. The rider took his time dismounting and then adjusted his uniform before acknowledging Dr. Olric’s presence. The two men spoke briefly before each of them glanced in Jonah and Tate’s direction. The brief look was enough to renew Jonah’s fear for his life.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Tate admitted. “Have you seen that one before?”

  Jonah shook his head.

  Dr. Olric looked past the man as he spoke, and the lack of eye contact was met with a fierce glare. The two men fell silent, each apparently protesting the other’s position of authority. Dr. Olric gave in first and turned toward the boys and then motioned for the others to follow him. A procession of the front four riders trailed Dr. Olric while the others waited by the horses. Jonah took in the sight and the fear cut straight through him.

  “This one,” Dr. Olric announced when they were a few strides from the boys. His enormous paw reached out, and he pointed at Jonah. “We can use—”

  One of the horsemen spoke up, cutting through Dr. Olric’s explanation. “Commander Zeke, we must finalize our course.”

  The reaction from Dr. Olric was both immediate and terrifying. The mammoth of a man took one long step past Commander Zeke and snatched his associate up by the throat. The man reached for a knife, but Dr. Olric grabbed his hand before he could slip it out. The man was left gasping. Dr. Olric remained silent until a noticeable shade of violet filled the man’s pasty white cheeks. Commander Zeke watched the scene unfold with a slight grin. Dr. Olric’s message was simple.

  “Do not interrupt me again.”

  He let go of the man and stared him down as he stumbled back. The other men backed out of the way as if they might be pulled into the fray for offering even a hint of assistance. Dr. Olric straightened himself up to his full height and then turned back toward the boys. He pointed at Jonah again.

  “We can use him,” he said. “He arrived with the pure sample I briefed the commission on.”

  Commander Zeke looked down on Jonah, jutting his chin as he examined him. “And the other boy?”

  Both men turned their gaze to Tate. Dr. Olric’s determination was painfully direct.

  “He’s of no use.”

  The two men turned on their heels and the trailing party scurried to get out of their way.

  “What did he mean?” Tate asked in a petrified voice. “Jonah, what are they going to do with us?”

  Jonah didn’t have an answer, and their captors gave him little time to consider it. The horsemen who’d been on the unfortunate end of Dr. Olric’s ire approached the boys, calling out orders as he did.

  “Bring me a pair of feed bags.”

  A flurry of commotion erupted near the horses as a man leapt down and rummaged through his saddlebags. He reached the caller a moment later and handed over the bags.

  “What are you going to do?” Tate’s voice shook as they closed in. “Just leave us here,” he pleaded. “We won’t tell anyone.”

  Jonah’s worried pleas were stuck in his throat. The bindings connecting him and Tate
were cut and they were forced to their feet.

  “Jonah.” The fear in Tate’s voice was overwhelming. “Jonah,” he repeated before one of the horsemen slipped a sack over his head. “You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” he asked, his words muffled beneath the bag.

  “Don’t worry,” Jonah said as the other dirty sack was dropped over his face. “Wherever we’re going, we’ll go together.”

  15

  Mia found it difficult to focus. She’d stationed a constant rotation of soldiers at the edge of the gorge to watch for Rowan’s return. She had no real authority to give orders. The mere fact that other members of the Canaan tribe were more than willing to do what she said was still a troubling curiosity for her.

  She walked through the maze of hallways that made up the second level of hive one with little concern for her destination. Her inner dialog found her at odds between her heart and her mind. Part of her wanted to give up her position as a member of the tribal council and allow herself to be as selfish as she wanted to be about her loved ones. The conflict stemmed from the drive her father instilled in her and her promise to him to lead the remains of the tribe of Cheyenne to safety. Mia had a brief hope that Canaan might be that safe haven, but that dream was burning at the edges. The scout team was sent out again for a final report on the undead horde. She believed the infected leaders driving the undead were guiding them directly to Canaan.

  Mia often found herself struggling with the battle between Rowan and her father that seemed destined to continue for the rest of her life. She tapped her hand on the hilt of her father’s sword, sheathed at her hip. She decided to carry the weapon, partly to remind herself that she was more than just another council member and partly because she would probably need it in the dark days ahead. Mia realized she’d subconsciously aimed for the infirmary. Yaffa’s voice cut through her inner debate as she approached the soft candle glow outlining the doorway.

  “What is it with men?” Yaffa said.

  “What now?’ Mia asked as she reached the doorway.

  “Asher refused to stay here.”

  “He left?” Mia asked then peeked into the room behind Yaffa and found it empty. “I thought he could barely walk.”

  “He’s weak, that’s for sure, but I think his stubbornness gave him the strength he needed,” she said and then chuckled. “I could have held him down, if I’d tried, but a lot of good it would have done.”

  Mia took her tone to mean Asher’s wounds were no longer life threatening. Silently she marked one of the items off her never-ending worry about this list. Yaffa motioned for one of the chairs against the wall and Mia happily abided. She couldn’t hold back a deep sigh from escaping as she sat down.

  “I heard about Rowan,” Yaffa said. “It must be tearing you apart.”

  Yaffa’s approach surprised Mia. The two hadn’t spoken much over the past few months. She was apparently testing the waters of their friendship. Mia was grateful to have another woman’s concern.

  “It’s killing me,” she said, and the admission tugged at her heartstrings more than she let on. “My whole world’s falling apart around me and I feel powerless to stop it.”

  Yaffa wiped her hands off on a rag and tossed it into a sack at the edge of the table centered in the room. She hopped up onto the table and let her legs dangle off the side.

  “You’re not alone in all this,” she said. “I was once as young as you.” She smiled. “I had dreams that had nothing to do with standing over people and watching them fight for their lives.”

  “You’ve saved many people,” Mia said.

  “I’ve watched just as many die,” Yaffa countered. “Many more to be honest.” She slipped off the table and took the chair beside Mia. “We all have our place here and we all have people depending on us.”

  She put her hand out and Mia took it.

  “Thank you,” Mia said.

  “Just remember,” Yaffa said as she stood up and pulled Mia up with her. “I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.”

  Mia smiled and then nodded. She headed for the hall with a little more confidence in her heart. She knew the troubles ahead of her, but there was strength in knowing there were others carrying those troubles with her. She reached the first level and found several other familiar faces moving through the halls.

  “You’re supposed to tell us when you’re leaving,” Bree announced. Her flushed cheeks matched a sure sign of frustration along her brow.

  “We’re supposed to protect you,” Bale added.

  “I apologize,” Mia said and then gave a light-hearted nod. “Won’t happen again. Have either of you seen Asher?”

  “He was gathering gear,” Bree said.

  “Gear. For what?” Mia asked, now concerned.

  “He’s going down into hive five to look at the generators.”

  Mia started off without another word. She couldn’t tell Asher that he had to stay in the infirmary, but surely, he didn’t think he was strong enough to work his way down into the generator room. She was midway through the personal quarters when she spotted Gabriel out in the main hall heading in the opposite direction. The boy was moving fast, and she had a hunch at the reason behind it.

  “Gabriel.” Her yell pulled several eyes toward her, including a number of people trying to sleep. Gabriel’s head snapped around at the sound of his name. “Come here,” she said, trying to shout and whisper at the same time. She led Bree and Bale out into the hall, and they met the boy in the center of the walkway. His stuffed backpack was a further indication of his destination. “Where are you running off to?”

  “Asher…Asher asked me to help him,” he said nervously as if he wasn’t sure if he was doing anything wrong.

  Gabriel was a true child of Canaan, raised without much knowledge of the outside world. As with most of the residents of the compound, he’d been privileged to a formal education Mia and the other tribal members didn’t understand.

  “Mind if we join you?” Mia asked.

  The growing procession followed Gabriel to one of several open work areas. The few remaining engineers used the space to gather usable equipment for repairs and salvage. Asher was hovering over a number of small crates. Gabriel reached him first and the boy’s nervous twitch gave away Asher’s apparent instructions to avoid attracting attention.

  “They caught me in the hall,” he said.

  Asher looked back with dismay. His obvious attempt to set off without speaking to Mia aggravated her to no end. She tried to hold back her frustration, but the words poured out of her before she could put up a mental barrier.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He looked at her with a guilty stare that matched Gabriel’s.

  “I’m making myself useful,” he said and attempted to continue with his preparations as if the answer was enough.

  Mia was able to catch herself the second time around. She walked slowly toward him, allowing herself a moment of clarity. She put her hand gently on his arm, and he stopped what he was doing but didn’t look at her. Mia caught a glimpse of the leather sleeve he’d wrapped around his severed hand to hide the bandages from view.

  “You need to rest,” she said. “You won’t serve us any good if you go down there and bleed to death.”

  Asher’s head snapped around with such force that it caused Mia to take a step back.

  “It won’t serve any good waiting around here to get killed either,” he said before promptly going back to work, now ignoring her altogether. “Start packing those items in that empty bag,” he said to Gabriel.

  The boy looked up at Mia as if for permission before he did as he was told. Mia nodded and then stepped away from both of them. She was as confused as she was frustrated. Silently she wondered if there was some way Asher knew what happened between her and Rowan in the storage space. The thought of it brought her mind back to that sensual moment and she blushed as her eyes met Bree’s as if somehow her thoughts were written all over her face.

&nb
sp; “Are you going to let them go?” Bree asked.

  Mia threw her hands up as she pushed past Bale. “No one listens to me anymore.”

  She made it a few paces into the hall before she got her response.

  “Hold on.”

  Mia didn’t slow down.

  “You know I can’t move that fast at the moment,” Asher said.

  Mia stopped and spun around. “Rowan’s down in the gorge right now,” she said.

  “I know that.”

  “Why are you in as much of a hurry to throw yourself into danger as he was?” she asked.

  “He’s trying to save those boys.”

  Asher’s defense of Rowan had an odd ring to it.

  “How good are your heroics if they end up getting you killed?” she asked.

  Asher’s bemused expression said he wasn’t sure if her comment was really meant for him or Rowan. In truth, Mia wasn’t sure either.

  She grabbed onto the one idea that she felt made sense. “We have to get everyone out of the compound.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’m not promising you anything.”

  His response surprised her enough to knock her off her train of thought. She was certain he was going to tell her that he believed he could get the power on in time to save them all from the advancing horde. There was something enormously deflating about his honesty. Her frustration quickly faded, allowing fear to creep into the gaping hole left behind. Asher tried to recover.

  “There’s still time,” he said.

  Mia shook her head. “You don’t believe that.”

  “I have to try.”

  She focused on the one thing she could do. “I have to find somewhere safe for us to go,” she said, and the thought lingered in the back of her mind as she realized she was still trying to fulfill the promise she made to her father. Mia mouthed the words he’d said as she was kneeling over him. “You are the future of our people and their survival will fall to you.”

  “What?” Asher asked.

  Mia shook her head again. “Nothing.”

  Her mind was in a whirl when she turned her back on him. There was a jostle of noise behind her as the trio tried to keep pace. She looked back and caught a glimpse of Gabriel struggling to catch up in the rear, dragging a pair of bags behind him. They reached the top of the main stairs between the first and second levels before the entire convoy stopped.