by Brant, Jason
Decayed
The Hunger #5
Jason Brant
Copyright © 2018 by Jason Brant
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
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1
As they climbed the stairs, Lance wished he hadn’t let his wife talk him out of taking the elevator. They hadn’t used anything requiring electricity for years. An elevator had been little more than a vague memory just a few days ago. Now, they could have effortlessly ascended The Light for their meeting with Emily Snow, but Cass had convinced him to walk instead.
It’ll be good for us to stretch after the beating we’ve taken, she’d said.
Lance had tried to argue she hadn’t biked and walked across most of the goddamn state two days ago, but he’d lost that discussion.
As usual.
His muscles protested each step, his bruised, lacerated body pissed at the exertion. If they didn’t have pressing matters to attend to—like the murderous assholes nearby—he would have stayed in bed. He figured a good two or three months of sleep would have him feeling right as rain in no time.
Cass struggled with the stairs, her injured back hindering every movement. Though she tried to hide a grimace each time she lifted her left leg, her watery eyes and twitching cheeks betrayed the agony she suffered. Her slow pace caused her to fall behind Lance. He paused, leaning against the railing.
“Let’s take the stairs,” he said in a mocking tone. “Why do I listen to you?”
“Because you won’t get laid otherwise.” Cass huffed as she stopped beside him.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Besides, my back is loosening up a little bit, dumbass. Just like I said it would.”
“No doubt. You look so spry dragging your leg up each step. I thought you were a cat for a second.”
A pall fell across Cass’ face that Lance recognized—it meant a punch was imminent. When one didn’t come, he understood just how much pain she dealt with.
“You need rest,” he said.
“So do you.”
“Nah, I’m good.” Lance flexed his bicep.
It wasn’t impressive.
“You probably shouldn’t do that.” Cass started up the stairs again. “All the ladies around here will get jealous.”
Lance nodded approvingly, as if she hadn’t insulted him. “That’s true.”
When they finally reached the top floor, Lance held the door open for her. She gingerly walked through it, heading along the wall toward the elevator doors. There wasn’t much of a path between the bounty of goods that filled most of the expansive room they’d entered and the wall leading to the elevator. The space opened at times while narrowing at others.
If the power went out and Snow had to run to the stairs in the dark, she’d have a difficult time. Lance made a mental note to mention it if their meeting went as well as he hoped. He’d noticed many similar issues over the past few days. The residents of The Light had grown accustomed to their safety.
Their diligence had begun to slip.
Reaching a wider, straighter path that cut through the mounds of unsorted supplies, they headed for Snow’s office. A closed door met them at the other end, the leader of The Light waiting inside.
Cass ogled the guns and ammunition, the bottles of water, and the bags of diapers surrounding them. “We could have lived for years on the island with this stuff.”
“And this is just the crap they haven’t gone through yet. The kid told us this is only what they’ve recently found.”
“Jesus.”
“Yes?” Lance asked, then waited for the smack that didn’t come.
“That joke got old about two and a half years ago.”
“I’ve barely known you that long.”
“Exactly.”
The door opened, as if in anticipation of their arrival. Emily Snow stood inside, beckoning them to join her. Golden hair cascaded over her thin but strong shoulders. A businesslike dress fell to her knees.
“My friends,” she said. “Glad you could join us.”
“Us?” Lance asked as they approached. “I thought we were just meeting with you.”
“Me and my most trusted advisors. Anything you have to say to me, you’ll want them to hear, too.” Snow gave them a warm smile as she stepped into her office.
Lance gently took Cass’ arm, stopping her before she stepped inside. “There’s still time to change our minds. We can grab our people. Get the hell out of Dodge. No need to involve ourselves in this crazy-ass turf war.”
Cass squinted. “You having second thoughts, dumbass?”
“No, but I wanted to throw the option out there just in case you were. I think this is the safest place we could hope to find for Dragon and everyone else. But we’re about to jump headfirst into some serious shit. Once we start down this road, there’s no turning back.”
“We started down this road when we left the island. No matter where we go, we’re going to run into Vladdies or entrenched survivors who aren’t going to be all that friendly to us.” Cass’ features hardened. “And we didn’t choose this war. Those bastards did when they separated us, tried to rape me, and sold our kid to the highest bidder. We didn’t start it, but we’re going to end it.”
“Even if it means putting our son in danger?”
“He’s already in danger. This is the best option we have. What are we going to do—take him farther inland? Hope we don’t run into one of those above-ground nests? What about another group of psychos? What about food and water? Are we going to assume we’ll find enough to live on?” Cass took his hand. “We talked about this already. Why are you bringing it up now that we’re walking in the door?”
“It just feels like the point of no return.”
“I think we passed that a few days ago when they took Lincoln away from us.” Cass emphasized their son’s name, making Lance smile.
“Are you coming?” Snow said.
“Are we?” Cass asked Lance, giving his hand a squeeze.
“We are. We’re all in, I guess.”
Hand in hand, they
walked through the double doors.
Snow led them across her spacious office, toward the wooden desk at the far end. Papers covered the dark surface, obfuscating the beautiful craftsmanship. Two people sat in executive chairs in front of the desk.
Both swiveled around as Snow approached.
Lance recognized one as Frank, or possibly Fred. He’d stood guard at the entrance of The Light when Brandon had first brought Eifort and Lance there a few days ago. He was a short, squat man with furry arms and a hairline that had begun its retreat a long time ago. As he reclined in the seat, rocking slightly, he gave them a nod.
To his left sat a woman who couldn’t have been more than thirty. Her narrow face was all angles under thin glasses, her raven-black hair in a ponytail. If she weighed more than a buck twenty, Lance would eat his shirt. She studied them as they approached.
“You’ve met Fred.” Snow gestured to the guard. “He’s the head of my security. He also led the mission to save you from the demons. Against my wishes.”
“Thanks for disobeying orders.” Lance stuck his hand out.
Fred stood and shook it, his grip so firm Lance had to hide a grimace. The guy must have crushed bricks with his hands for a living. Lance was sure that was a real occupation back in the day.
“Emily isn’t big on orders,” Fred said. “She just makes stern suggestions. I decided not to listen to that one. Besides, you had some of our people with you and we’ve lost enough already.”
Cass shook hands with him, her forearm flaring as she squeezed back as hard as she could. Fred gave her an approving nod. Lance tried not to laugh.
“Thanks for not being big on orders, Ms. Snow,” Lance said.
“I might have to change my policy if people are going to completely ignore my suggestions.” Though Snow tried to give Fred a stern look, her voice lacked real conviction. “And please, call me Emily.”
“You got it.”
“This is my right-hand woman—Rebecca Robinson.” Emily moved behind her desk and sat.
Lance took in the serious woman beside Fred. He noticed she didn’t get up or proffer a hand. “Hi there.”
“Hello.” Rebecca took them in from head to toe. “Welcome to The Light.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Cass walked away from her, then eased down in one of two free office chairs.
“Take a seat,” Snow said jokingly as she grinned at Cass.
Lance gave her apologetic shrug and sat next to his wife, trying to get a feel for the room. Snow and Fred seemed friendly enough, but Rebecca had an attitude that was sure to set Cass off sooner than later.
He was already concerned about the direction the meeting had taken, and the damned thing hadn’t even started yet.
They inspected each other in silence for several moments before Cass piped up. “We’re going after all three camps that fucked with us.”
“Oh?” Emily squirmed in her seat before glancing at her two advisors. “Well, we—”
“You can help us, or you can sit back and watch the fireworks, but don’t get in our way.” Cass leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.
Lance plopped his face into the palm of his right hand.
Fred burst into deep guffaws. Sitting forward in the oversized chair, he slapped his knee. “Goddamn! I like you.”
Cass gave him a mischievous smile, but she remained quiet.
“You think you can squat here for a few days, then start a war?” Rebecca asked. She held Cass’ glare. “Who do you think you are?”
Emily held her hand up. “Becky.”
“No!” Becky pointed at Cass, but she turned her iron gaze to her boss. “These people have caused us nothing but trouble since they got here, and we’re supposed to let them stir up things even more? We’re already dealing with the Bandits, and we don’t need these strangers screwing everything up even more.”
“Oh, you’re dealing with them,” Cass mocked, doing a weird jazz-hands gesture. “And how exactly are you doing that?”
Lance and Fred shared a glance that said here we go.
“We’re—”
“Letting them kidnap, rape, and murder innocent families.” Cass’ face reddened. “That’s what you’re doing.”
“How dare you.” Becky’s finger, which still pointed at Cass, started pumping in the air for emphasis. “You have no idea what we’ve been through to be here, to stay alive here.”
“And I don’t give a—”
“Hold on now.” Lance sat forward, putting a calming hand on his wife’s tense shoulder. “Everyone, take a breath. We’re here to help each other, not start a cat fight.”
All three women shot him heated glares.
“A fight, I meant.” Lance winced, knowing he’d pay for that slipup later. “We gleaned a lot of information about all three camps that might be helpful to you. In return for that info, we’re hoping you can fill in some gaps for us. We didn’t get a whole lot of history on the psychos we ran into. Sound fair?”
“We’ve already talked to Charlie and Brandon. Since they were there for the whole damned debacle, I don’t really see what you can add that we don’t already know.” Becky finally relaxed into her chair with self-satisfaction.
Fred rubbed his temples with his index fingers, mumbling to himself.
Emily closed her eyes, slightly shaking her head.
Cass fumed. “Oh really?”
“Really,” Becky said.
“Did they tell you where the Bandits sleep at night?”
Emily’s eyes snapped open. “What?”
“That’s right. I know where their base is.”
“How—”
“Did they tell you they rape some of the women before taking them up to Pennsylvania? Did they tell you I killed the one who tried to have his way with me? Did they bring you one of the higher-ups in Valerie’s camp? They must have given you the name of their contact for fuel in the south.”
Becky’s mouth popped open, but no words came out. Her cheeks flushed as she glared at Cass in silence. Teeth clacking when she snapped her mouth shut, she averted her gaze.
“You know where the Bandits operate out of?” Fred finally asked. “You’re sure?”
“Oh yeah,” Cass said. “And I’m going to take out every last one.”
Fred glanced at Emily. “We could finally put a stop to this.” He turned to Lance. “We’ve tried following them at least a dozen times, but we can’t keep up with their truck. They outrun us on 95 every single time. Even when we set up farther along the highway to try to see which exit they take, nightfall pushes us into shelter before we can zero in on them. Bastards always head back at sundown, making it too damn hard to track them.”
“We’ve put spike strips on the roads to blow their tires, but it barely slows them down. They usually spot them before running them over.” Emily sighed. “And it’s not like there aren’t a few hundred spares in every repair shop and department store in the area.”
“If someone will get me a phone book, I can give you their exact address,” Cass said.
Emily hit a button on a corded phone on her desk, waiting a few seconds.
A male voice finally came through the speaker. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Bring us a phone book, Tom,” Emily said.
“Yes, ma’am.” The man paused for a moment. “Does it need to have the yellow pages?”
Emily looked to Cass, who gave her a nod.
“Yes.”
“I’ll bring one right up.”
Emily hung up. “The phones don’t work outside this building, but they make for a fine intercom system.”
Lance figured ringing someone up to bring anything needed sure beat going up and down a ton of floors to ask for a book. “You keep phone books around here?”
“Helps us find local stores we can raid for supplies,” Fred said. “You wouldn’t believe all the little places around here no one had ever heard of. You should have seen the expressions on the kids’ faces when we started using th
em—none of ‘em had even seen the yellow pages before. You woulda thought we were using magic.”
Using phone books had never even occurred to Lance before they’d left the States. Like everyone else, he’d relied on his cell to find local restaurants and stores. He hadn’t used a physical book to look up someone’s number in at least a decade, if not more.
They sat in silence for a moment, the tension in the room ebbing.
Lance finally chimed in. “One of the Vladdies spoke to me.”
“The hell is a Vladdie?” Fred asked.
2
The cool breeze relaxed Greg a little as he walked down a desolate sidewalk. His nerves were shot from the past few days. Ever since they’d stepped off the boat, things had gone from bad to worse.
From escaping their kidnappers to Adam’s death to Lilith’s complete breakdown when he’d told her the bad news, Greg had experienced the worst stretch of his life.
Before the fall of civilization, he’d considered life little more than a joke. He smoked weed, drank beer, played video games, and accomplished nothing of significance. The inebriated stupor he’d slumped into toward the end had kept him from fully understanding what was happening outside as Pittsburgh had fallen apart all around him.
Adam had rescued him.
Greg still didn’t understand why.
He knew how annoying he could be, how useless his skillset was. Adam should have left him for dead.
But he hadn’t.
He’d not only saved him, but he’d taken him along on an epic adventure. They’d survived monsters, both human and infected, braved the oceans, and struggled through monstrous hurricanes.
