The Decay of Humanity Series (Book 3): Demise of Humanity

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The Decay of Humanity Series (Book 3): Demise of Humanity Page 1

by Dawn, M. K.




  Demise

  of Humanity

  Book 3 in the Decay of Humanity Series

  By: M.K. Dawn

  Copyright © 2020 M.K. Dawn

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Thank you so much for reading!

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Slash.” Archer nudged Sloan in the arm, his green eyes full of mischief. “I think your sister is waiting for you to call the meeting to order.”

  Sloan tucked her red hair behind her right ear and crossed her arms on the dining room table. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Yes.” An eager smile tugged at Britney’s lips. “Just as it has been in the year since we started havin’ these meetin’s. If we’re goin’ to consider ourselves a town council, we need to conduct ourselves as such.”

  “Fine.” There was no use arguing with her sister. Britney had inherited their father’s stubbornness and used it often. “I call the Myrefall Haven Council Meeting to order on this day, September eighteenth, two thousand twenty.”

  “Thank you, Sloan.” Britney rose from her chair and approached the blank white board hung on the adjacent wall. She wrote out the day’s agenda with a black dry erase marker. “Topics up for discussion: food, supplies, security, accommodations.” She tapped the bottom of the marker against her lips. “I know there’s somethin’ else missin’...”

  Makayla—nurse and Britney’s best friend—spoke up, “You forgot medical.” She turned to her boyfriend, Terrance. “Do you have anything to add?” Together, they represented the people who belonged to the RV group, named for how they arrived at the farm.

  “All is well.” Terrance’s wide smile glistened against his deep brown skin. “Healthy people are happy people. The exercise equipment is holding up nicely. My only complaint, if you could call it that, is we don’t have enough machines to accommodate the early morning crowd. But we make do, share and encourage others’ successes, and are thankful for the supplies we have.” As a former college football player who majored in kinesiology and sports medicine, Terrance set up and ran a recreational center for the community.

  Some had laughed when he first suggested it last winter, but Sloan had thought it an excellent idea. The benefits of regular exercise were well researched. And now that they lived in an apocalyptic society, everyone could use a healthy dose of daily endorphins to help keep depression at bay.

  Britney pinched her lips together. “Thank you for the update, Terrance. I’m not sure if I should write your topic on the agenda and mark it done or leave it off since we’ve already discussed it.”

  “Put it on the board, Brit,” Axel said with a chuckle as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his tattoo-covered arms. “You know it’ll bother you if you don’t.”

  “You know me so well.” Britney wrote “fitness” and immediately drew a line through it. “Anythin’ else?”

  Jerry—a portly man and newest member of the Council—raised his hand.

  Not again. Sloan’s gaze flickered upward. They had put Jerry in charge of the living arrangements not long after his small group arrived, yet his contributions to the meetings rarely stayed on the topic.

  Britney dropped her head. “Jerry, like I’ve told you before, you don’t have to raise your hand to speak.”

  Jerry’s eyes darted to Sloan, and he cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to speak out of turn.”

  Sloan had lost count of how many times she had chastised Jerry for interrupting a serious discussion with mundane, self-serving subject matter.

  “I asked for everyone to speak up, Jerry,” Britney said through clenched teeth. “Did you have something else that needs to be discussed? I’ve already added accommodations to the agenda.”

  “Well,” Jerry twiddled his chubby thumbs, “my group and I were talking last night—”

  Axel raked a hand through his jet-black hair and groaned. “Here we go.”

  Jerry threw back his shoulders and continued, “We feel our representation in the Council is severely lacking. Every other group has two people...”

  Britney’s emerald eyes bore into Sloan, begging for her to intervene.

  Her older sister had grown tired of dealing with Jerry, which left the task to Sloan, not that she minded. Before the government sequestered her and hundreds of other in The Bunker, Sloan had been one of the highest-ranking surgeons in the world. She didn’t work her way to that position without learning to deal with the Jerrys of the world. “Let me just stop you right there, Mr. Mullins. We have already discussed this matter and reached a verdict.”

  “It’s not fair.” Jerry scrunched his round face. “Every group—the RV, The Bunker, the Bikers—has two people representing them in the Council. Why can’t my group have the same?”

  Sloan detested the use of “fair” as grounds for an argument. “Fair is an invalid point. There are only ten of you, Mr. Mullins, while the RV and The Bunker people make up the majority.”

  “What about the bikers?” Jerry averted his eyes to avoid Axel’s glare. “My group has more than they do, and they have two people representing them.”

  “That’s because this is our farm!” Britney snapped, her southern accent profound. “The only reason this place is safe is because of the wall we built. If you or any member of your group have a problem with that, you know where the door!”

  Axel squeezed Britney’s hand. “Maybe we should take a break? Let everyone cool down for a few minutes.”

  Britney settled in her chair. “I’m fine, just sick of hearin’ him complain. Like he has it so bad. Tell me, Jerry, is your group being mistreated in any way? Are you not fed? Or housed? Or provided medical treatment?”

  “Well, no...though we have the smallest RVs.”

  Britney slammed her hands on the table. “First of all, the RV you have is the one you brought. As for the rest of your group, they were the last ones to arrive, and they were the only ones left!”

  Sloan stood, tired of the bickering. “Enough. This behavior solves nothing. Mr. Mullins, would you feel better if another member of your party could join the meetings?”

  “What are you doin’?” Britney protested.

  Sloan held up her hand. “Give me a moment. Jerry, please answer the question.”

  Jerry bobbed his head. “Yes. That would make us feel a lot better.”

  “Do you have someone in mind?” Sloan had a suggestion, but first wanted to see who Jerry though were viable options.

  “Um.” Jerry glanced around the room. “My wife.”

  “Your wife?” Sloan studied his face. “And what specific skill set does your wife bring to the table?”

  Jerry’s eyes widened. “Skill set?”

  “Yes.” Sloan made a point of looking at each of the other members. “All of us bring a certain level of expert
ise to the Council. Axel and Archer’s military background. Britney’s knowledge of ranching and farming. Terrance’s background in fitness. Makayla and my medical experience. Each of us use our individual skill set to help the entire community. Therefore, we are part of the Council.”

  “I help, too,” Jerry argued with little conviction. “I volunteered to take over as the property manager, so to speak.” Jerry snorted at his own joke. When backed in a corner, he always did his best to make light of the situation.

  “Which is why you now have a place here. But even though the other members of your group perform their daily tasks well, that doesn’t qualify them to sit on the Council. If one of your group members has something they would like to integrate that would increase the quality of life for everyone, then that person would have the opportunity to join, if the Council agreed.”

  “I understand.” Jerry leaned back in his chair. “We have several ideas, if anyone would be interested in hearing them.”

  “No!” Britney clasped a hand over her mouth and mumbled, “sorry,” through her fingers.

  Sloan let loose a small chuckle. “I think what my sister meant to say is not until you’ve discussed the possibility with your group.”

  “I’ll have a list ready for the meeting next week.”

  “We would expect nothing less.” Sloan took her seat. “Britney, shall we continue with the meeting? I can’t speak for anyone else, but I have other things on my schedule today.”

  Britney slowly pushed up from her chair and marked out accommodations from the board. “I assume you have nothin’ else, Jerry.”

  Jerry opened his mouth to speak, but Britney cut him off.

  “I should have said nothin’ pressin’ that can’t wait until next week.”

  He closed his mouth and sank into his chair.

  Britney plastered a smile onto her face. “Good. Movin’ on. I guess, since I’m already up here, I’ll go and do my best to make this as brief as possible. The farm is runnin’ smoothly. All animals are healthy. Barns are ready to house the animals that need shelter during the winter. We have enough hay to last through the spring.”

  “That’s good news.” Makayla, who had volunteered as secretary when they first formed the Council, scribbled in a notebook as she spoke. “What about our food supplies?”

  “Dwindling,” Britney said without hesitation. “Our small greenhouse is not big enough to feed the one hundred and twelve residents we now house. We’ve gone through nearly half of the canned food I had stored in the pantry. The only food we have an abundance of is meat—dried and frozen. But we can’t store the meat forever. We have to consider the shelf life of the gas running the generators. Eventually, it’ll breakdown and be useless.”

  Archer pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, we need food and gas.”

  “And a way to generate more heat during the winter,” Axel said. “Last winter sucked.”

  “What about fire pits?” Archer suggested. “Have a bunch of them in the RV park and around the farm.”

  Terrance propped his elbows on the table and leaned closer. “What sort of fire pits are we talking about here? The store-bought metal kind or something we build ourselves?”

  “Build them ourselves.” Archer rapped his fingers on the table. “I’m thinking we dig a hole in the ground and form the walls with supplies we have lying around. Rocks, cinder blocks, concrete, old bricks. Whatever we can find. Then, we stock up on wood and keep the damn things burning. Put a roof over them if needed to keep the snow off. Something. We nearly died during that last blizzard. Not sure how many of us Southerners can handle another winter without some real heat.”

  Sloan blew out a breath but didn’t comment.

  “Something you want to say, Slash?” Archer asked. “You don’t agree that we need to build fire pits?”

  All sat silent and waited for her response. “It’s not that I don’t think they would be beneficial. My problem is the timing. A project of this magnitude should have been thought of and executed months ago.”

  “Makayla,” Archer tapped her notepad with a grin, “mark Slash as against the building of fire pits.”

  “I don’t think that’s what she said.” Britney never missed an opportunity to defend her little sister even when unnecessary.

  “It’s fine, Brit. Archer’s kidding.” Sloan tilted closer so she could whisper in his ear. “You’re joking, right?”

  He pecked her cheek. “Yes. That was my poor attempt at a joke.”

  Sloan wasn’t big on public affection, but there was something comforting about Archer’s lips against her skin.

  Britney cleared her throat. “We’ve gotten a bit off topic this morning. Is there anything else we need to discuss when it comes to buildin’ the fire pits?”

  “We haven’t voted,” Sloan said.

  The other council members looked at her as if she’d spoken a foreign language.

  “Did I not speak clearly?” She didn’t understand their confusion.

  Archer patted her hand and laughed. “We all heard you.”

  She slid her hand out from under his. “What’s so funny? Aren’t we supposed to vote on any suggested improvements to the community?”

  Axel crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t classify fire pits as improvements. More like a necessity for survival.”

  Sloan disagreed but let it go.

  “I think what Slash is trying to say—” Archer started but Sloan cut him off.

  “I don’t need you to speak for me.” She knew he was trying to help but hated that he felt the need to translate the meaning behind her words. “All I meant was that we decided early on that all major renovations suggested for the farm be put to a vote—either by the Council or, if important enough, the entire community.”

  Everyone directed their attention to Britney, as they always did when they didn’t know how to respond to a point Sloan made.

  Britney licked and rubbed her lips together before speaking. “That is what we decided. I believe everyone would understand if we left this vote up to the Council. All in favor, raise your hand.”

  The vote was unanimous for the fire pits.

  Jerry groaned.

  “Is there a problem?” Sloan asked.

  Jerry’s face flushed. “Sorry. Did I do that out loud?”

  “Are you annoyed with the outcome? Because you voted for the fire pits.”

  “No.” Jerry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It just...well...you had us vote...it sounded like you didn’t want the fire pit...but...um...you voted for them.”

  Sloan tilted her head. “I don’t understand what asking for a vote has to do with my personal view on the situation.”

  “Movin’ on,” Britney interrupted.

  Sloan leaned into Archer. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No.” Archer squeezed her thigh. “You’re sticking to the book. No one can fault you for that.”

  “Sloan,” Britney used her best authoritative voice, “let’s discuss medical.”

  “Yes.” Sloan opened a small notebook where she kept a list of all the supplies they’d run out of or she suspected they would need in the future. “Medical supplies are dangerously low. With winter approaching,” Sloan glanced at Makayla, “we don’t have enough supplies to ensure the medical staff can keep everyone healthy in the face of illness.” Plus, there were specific medications she needed to collect for a certain newly diagnosed patient.

  “Speaking of supplies.” Makayla stared down at her notebook. “The list keeps growing.”

  Britney’s eyes danced to Axel.

  He nodded. “Archer and I have discussed the possible need for a supply run. It’s been, what, six months since we’ve been on one? We’re overdue.”

  “Even though we’re supposed to be creating a self-sufficient community,” Archer grumbled. “Like the Amish.”

  “Contrary to popular belief,” Sloan corrected, “many of the Amish communities rely heavily on modern medicine.”
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  Archer cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yes. They—”

  Britney huffed. “Sloan. Maybe save the history lesson for after the meetin’.”

  History lesson. Sloan had never considered the Amish as such. The thought broke her heart.

  “Sorry, Brit. Please, continue.”

  Britney looked taken aback by Sloan’s apology. “All right. Where were we?”

  “Supplies,” Makayla said. “Or lack thereof.”

  Britney scratched her fingernail along her bottom lip. “Axel?”

  “There’s no way around it. We’re going to have to go out.”

  Britney dropped in her chair. “But that means you might run into the infested.”

  Over the past year, their encounters with the infested had been minimal. The fences had held steady, and the wall remained impenetrable. They had built an ideal community in an unideal world.

  Axel grasped Britney’s hand. “I know, but we need supplies.”

  “Plus,” Archer added, “last time we were out, we hardly saw any infested. Seems like they moved on. Away from the cold. Away from the lack of hosts they can suck dry and make into one of their own.”

  Archer’s inaccurate description of the transfer of species irritated Sloan. “That’s not exactly how it works.”

  “Slash,” Archer used his warning voice, “not the point.”

  In her previous life, Sloan would have argued, but this wasn’t the time nor the place. She knew that by the way the vein in Archer’s temple throbbed.

  “Everyone needs to settle down.” Axel rose from his chair. “We’ve been lucky. Damn lucky this past year. Not a single infested has breached our walls. Sightings are down to the point I can’t even remember the last time someone has seen an infested.”

  “But it’s still not safe.” Britney swallowed as tears welled in her eyes.

  Axel’s face softened. “I know last time you left the farm, things went south fast—”

  “Went south?” Britney clenched her jaw. “Gunner died. We almost died. If it weren’t for Makayla and the RV group, you and I would be dead. Or worse, infested.”

  Axel took her hand. “We have more experienced people going out. People that have trained and gone out together for over for a year now. We know what we’re doing.”

 

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