“I just don’t want to hold anyone back,” she answered, looking at him sharply. “If I have to stay behind, I will.”
“We’re not leaving you,” Brandon interrupted forcefully. “You know we wouldn’t do that to you. We aren’t just individuals trying to survive. We’re a team.”
Norah nodded at him gratefully.
“I think that sounds fine,” Ralph finally answered. “The Humvee’s up and running, and we can take it back with us to the lab. Rest up. Get a move on.”
Daniels got into the driver’s seat and eased the Humvee from the garage bay. As they began to pile in, three of the crazed scrambled around the corner, blood oozing from between their teeth. Norah shot one in the brain, plastering it against the sidewalk, while Ralph killed the other two. Clay looked on with a burst of pride before helping them both into the Humvee. They rode silently back into town, toward the lab, eyeing the muted town around them.
Daniels tried to get as close to the candy shop as possible, but the presence of numerous abandoned cars forced him to park on a side street, a half block away from the entrance.
The team paraded into the blaring light of the laboratory, grateful to be out of the openness, where the crazed saw them as their next meal. They ate their own meal of potatoes, noodles, vegetables, and alcohol brought over from the hotel, chewing and glugging without words. For many nights, since this had all begun, they’d known that the following day didn’t hold any certainty. And now that they were leaving the safety of the containment zone, everything was even more up in the air. They hadn’t seen the outside world. They didn’t know if they would find an entire world of destruction or if they would learn that they could live normally out there, as if nothing had happened.
Clay chose not to think about the possibilities and to just proceed, with his survival instincts in tow and without any sense of hope.
They went to bed immediately after eating. Clay and Alayna shared a room but not a bed. Clay lay awake listening to the quiet of Alayna’s breathing, his eyes staring into the darkness of their barrack.
Sometime at around five in the morning—not that time had any meaning in this current reality—the light from the main room of the laboratory cut out. The violence of total darkness made Clay’s eyes snap open. He was immediately awake, and he ripped from his bed and into the lab, stubbing his toes against a large box of supplies that they’d gathered for their departure.
“SHIT!” he cried.
A few other survivors began to clamber from their beds to join him. Jacobs gasped, incredulous. “But the backup battery system. I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think it could go out?” Clay asked, almost disdainfully. “You didn’t think the world would end with the nanites, either.”
No one spoke at this. Jacobs snapped his fingers, remembering. “I think we have another backup system. It should kick on when the first one fails.” As the team waited, an eerie light glowed across them, emanating from the ceiling’s emergency fixtures. This cast long, strange shadows across the floor and turned their faces green. Alayna and Clay made momentary eye contact, feeling the strangeness of this new environment.
“All right,” Clay said. “I think we should pack up the Humvee with our last-minute supplies now. No use in waiting here in this half light. And the sun’s about to rise.”
Everyone agreed. Norah grabbed a bag of fruits and vegetables—things, she said, they would ultimately missed if they couldn’t get them on the outside. “We’ll have to eat them quickly. And really appreciate them. Maybe write down the feeling of eating an apple for our future selves to remember it best.”
Brandon wrapped his arms around the old woman, holding her tight. “Thank god you’re here,” he said. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t look at the world correctly. We’d see only darkness.”
As they neared the laboratory door, Clay felt a shadow descend over his heart. The dangers on the main roads were apparent, especially given that they’d killed countless of the crazed the previous day. He was certain they were still coming, especially with the power fully out now. And he had no idea if they could communicate with each other and thus tell other of the crazed their location.
“Daniels and I will lead,” Clay announced, moments before he opened the door to the staircase that would take them into the candy shop. “And Alayna, you’ll bring up the rear. You all have your guns still. Be prepared to fight if you have to. And we’ll get the fuck out of here in no time.”
No one spoke. Clay lifted the latch of the lab door, revealing the ghostly, grey light of the early morning. He took steps upward, feeling the others close behind him. He could hear subtle noises from Norah’s creaking bones. But she didn’t complain.
When they reached the sales floor of the candy store, the exterior of the shop looked empty and abandoned, just as quiet as it had been the previous evening. Clay raised his hands, speaking quietly. “Okay. The Humvee is just around the corner. Let’s be cautious and alert. But it looks like this might be our best chance. No matter what, this is our first step to life on the outside. After this, there’s no going back.”
The team nodded, their eyes dark and serious. And then Clay took the first steps to daylight, feeling the weight of six other peoples’ lives upon his shoulders. He didn’t know how to pray for them.
Chapter 76
The lone survivors of Carterville stood at the entrance of Moe’s, blinking into the early sunlight. Clay placed his hand upon his holster, looking around. He sensed something. Suddenly, they heard the slobbering and growling noise of a single crazed ducking from around the corner. The monster’s eyes were glossy and alien, with blood dripping like eye seeds into his lips. The crazed opened his mouth to reveal chomping teeth, sharpened as if he’d been gnawing upon bones.
Alayna stepped out and blasted the monster in the brain with a single bullet. Norah gasped, but the rest of them remained silent, watching as the monster collapsed to the ground. Ralph breathed heavily. The light of the morning no longer seemed so soft.
“Just a small bit of excitement this morning,” Clay said, causing several of them to titter. He took a step to the side, making an arc around the dead body, in full sight of the Humvee. “They never let us down, do they? Always keep coming back for more. Like we’re irresistible.”
Clay stepped out onto Main Street and felt Alayna beside him. She placed a hand on his back as they moved toward the Humvee, easing her fingers over his tense muscles. Clay felt he could hear her encouragement in his head. “It’s going to be all right,” she seemed to say. “I’m right here. You’re not alone.”
But in that moment, Clay heard the sudden, rash scream of another crazed. He lurched around, realizing that as he’d been distracted, three monsters had marched up behind them, on the attack. Ralph lifted his gun even as a crazed wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to bite at his ear. Ralph blasted him once through the stomach, forcing the mutant back a few feet. But then he began to scramble forward, purple vomit and pus seeping from his stomach.
Daniels lifted his gun and shot the still-fighting crazed through the head, destroying him.
Clay felt they’d been caught off guard, lost and frightened, even before they’d had the time to get their bearings. As he lifted his gun, rushing past Alayna, one of the crazed latched himself onto Norah. Her eyes went wide and she screamed out, “JESUS. NO. PLEASE!”
But the mutant ripped his teeth into Norah’s throat, squirting blood all over Brandon’s shirt. Norah’s face went lax instantly. She folded to the ground, her long, flowered dress growing dirty on the pavement. Her eyelids flickered as the crazed monster began to gnaw at her skin, licking at her ear. And then, he took another massive bite at her cheek, her wrinkled skin clinging to his teeth.
“FUCK YOU!” Brandon cried, lifting a shocked and shaking hand to shoot a bullet through the crazed monster’s head. The mutant fell back instantly, like a toy, leaving just one more coming toward them.
Clay felt crazed himself, a
lmost mad. He shot the last one, once a woman, who flung back, blood dripping from her ears. But Clay wasn’t finished. He leaped forward, wrapping his hands around the monster’s face and pummeled it into the pavement. Bits of bone spattered across Clay’s chest and face, but he couldn’t be finished—he couldn’t be done that easy, not with all the destruction around. He was coated in blood up to his elbows, his eyes wide and panicked. He didn’t realize where he was or what he was doing for several minutes more. And when he looked up, he was coated in grime. The crazed monster no longer had any semblance of being a person. Only bits of her clothing remained.
The troop stood in shocked silence, Norah splayed out before them, her neck and cheek bleeding ruby red onto the pavement. Her flowered dress was blotched and stained. Brandon knelt beside her, brushing his fingers through her silver hair. But Alayna continued to stare at Clay, at the animalistic way he hovered over that which he’d destroyed only moments before. She covered her mouth with her hand, shocked.
But Clay didn’t have words for her. He didn’t have words for any of them. His breath came jaggedly, in spurts. He leaned upon his knees, shuddering, and then rushed to the entrance of the candy store, where he began to vomit uncontrollably. He no longer had any feeling for his body’s needs or wants.
Soon he was empty. He wiped himself clean and then turned toward the others, who were crying wordlessly over Norah’s dead body. Brandon reached up and closed her eyelids. “She looks oddly peaceful. Like she didn’t really want to go all the way, anyway. She was so tired,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “She was so much more tired than she ever let on.”
“And now she can rest,” Alayna whispered. “But the rest of us. We should go.” Her eyes snapped to Clay, as if to tell him to regain his composure. He was their leader. He needed to act like it.
Daniels and Brandon carried Norah to the side of the road, where they reasoned she’d lost too much blood to become a crazed monster. They covered her with a sheet, wishing they had time for a more fitting burial. And then they turned toward the waiting Humvee, its windshield reflecting the midmorning sunlight. Time was ticking, even when time didn’t matter. They had to get moving.
Daniels slid into the driver’s seat, indicating he thought Clay wasn’t mentally strong enough to drive. Clay sat up front, the other four survivors behind them, their eyes lost and staring into the distance. Daniels revved the motor, and they began their necessary trek toward the outskirts of town. As they drove, nobody said a single word.
The energy field was flickering when they reached it, showing the suddenly bright blue sky on the outside. Daniels parked and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. This was the only sound humming through their ears as they sat in sad contemplation.
“I pray to God we’re doing the right thing,” Jacobs said from the back seat, then. He gave voice to what everyone else was thinking. “I pray that we’re not giving ourselves a death sentence by leaving the safety of the lab. We could have many more years there.”
Clay shifted in his seat, clenching his fists. He felt enraged. “That would be no kind of life, Leland. No kind of life at all. We wouldn’t have the love of our family members. I don’t know your situation. But you must have had love once. You must know what it feels like, that richness of life. Without it, everything else feel empty. And we have to move forward. Together.”
After Clay spoke, the team of six survivors sat in silence a moment longer, resolute in their decision to leave. On the other side of the flickering energy field, reality awaited them. Fear of the unknown clutched at their hearts. But with Clay as their leader, they had no choice but to proceed. He was right, after all. Remaining would mean no life at all.
Dear Reader
Thank you so much for reading Turn: Book One of the Humanity’s Edge Trilogy. The exciting follow-up, titled, Detour: Book Two of the Humanity’s Edge Trilogy is available now! Be sure to check it out!
I would also like to thank you for supporting indie authors such as myself. If you enjoyed reading this book, please leave a review wherever you got it. Reviews are an important key to the success of every book or story — the more reviews a title receives, the more likely it is that other readers will discover its virtues. So, please give your opinion, whether you liked it or not.
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Paul
Website: www.PaulKohler.net
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Detour: Book Two of the Humanity’s Edge Trilogy
by Paul B. Kohler
Detour: Book Two of the Humanity’s Edge Trilogy is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2017 by Paul B. Kohler
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.
Edited by Ellen Campbell
Cover design by Ryan Schwarz
Interior design and layout by Paul B. Kohler
ISBN-13: 978-1-940740-18-8 (tpb)
ISBN-10: 1-940740-18-5 (tpb)
From the Author
Detour: Book Two of the Humanity’s Edge Trilogy is a work of fiction. It's a futuristic glimpse of “what-if”. I've used my creative license to develop a story that explores what life might be like at the end of the world. Also, the tech and biology used here are fictitious. As far as I know, there are no zombie making nanites in current use. Please consider that when reading the following story. But, more importantly, enjoy the read!
Chapter 1
It rained most of the day before the storm pulled up anchor shortly after midnight, the welcomed deluge reducing to a mere drizzle just in time for Sam to start her shift.
“Jesus H. Christ!” she bellowed from the vacant observation tower perched some forty feet above the container yard. “How many times do I have to tell them?”
She was referring to the shift schedule hanging on the wall just inside the catwalk door. Printed in eighteen-point Comic Sans font, her name was spelled out. Samantha Anne Wells. Without batting an eye, she crossed out the “antha,” those disdained extra syllables. Sam was the only name she’d gone by since she was a little girl. Samantha was only used by . . . well, her dad, and he’d passed away years ago.
Sam traced her finger across the schedule and found that not only did she have to work her third straight graveyard shift, she was scheduled for that same time slot every single day for the remainder of the week. To make matters worse, she was scheduled with Malcolm.
She shuddered, sensing his presence just outside the door. She’d heard him barking orders at one of the yard attendants just moments before, his voice sounding dog-like, ready to attack.
Just a few more weeks, Sam thought, and she could quit her lousy job for good. She’d have enough saved to visit her sister in New England, until she could figure out her next step. She hadn’t been herself in years, she felt stretched thin, ragged. And she was only thirty-two years old.
She knew she couldn’t blame her ex, Malcolm, or their rocky relationship for the entirety of her despair. But Jesus, it was tempting.
She heard Malcolm’s footsteps vibrating on the catwalk outside. She tensed, her eyes darting toward anywhere else. She lifted a clipboard and began to read the list of conta
iners slated to ship out the following day.
The door clattered open and Malcolm huffed as he stepped in. His pervasive scent—a mix of slight body odor and an overused body spray—filled the room. She remembered the brand, could even picture it on his bathroom shelf. She’d felt lust, before, when she’d smelled it. Now it just turned her stomach.
“Evening, Samantha,” Malcolm said, leering at her. “Don’t suppose you want to hand me my clipboard? Got to check on that container going to Seattle.”
“It already left,” Sam said, her voice high-pitched and not her own. “And you know better than to call me that.”
“I’ll keep doing it until it doesn’t get a reaction out of you anymore. Fascinating how it still enrages you.”
“It doesn’t enrage me,” Sam insisted. “It just isn’t who I am. And you know that.”
“Guess I don’t know you as well as I thought,” Malcolm said, collapsing into his chair and sliding it across the floor. He lifted a girlie magazine from his desk and began to flip through it, perusing the curvaceous women. Sam couldn’t help but think his eyes looked like those of dead fish in a market.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Sam began retreating to her desk across the room. “I have a lot of paperwork to do, and I know you can’t help me with it. Your handwriting is atrocious.”
“Ha,” Malcolm scoffed. He grabbed the remote control and turned up the volume on the television, and switched it to the news—the only thing that was on after at one in the morning. “Let’s see who died in a car accident today, shall we?”
Humanity's Edge- The Complete Trilogy Page 21
