Demon Fall (Resurrection Chronicles Book 9)

by M. J. Haag

  The infected never wondered how the livestock were still alive. They just ignored them and moved on, usually. Except for the two this morning.

  The grey man in the black shirt saw the camera hidden on top of a barn beam and stared directly at it. At us. There was something very weird about his eyes, and I leaned closer to the screen in an attempt to pinpoint what.

  He spoke to his companion, who also looked at the camera.

  “They know we’re here,” Adam said. His hand immediately settled on one of my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. They can’t get to us in here. We’ll be fine, June.”

  He wasn’t saying it to reassure himself. He was reassuring me. Just like he had since the moment we packed our bags. I reached up, set my hand over his, and gave his fingers a squeeze.

  The kitten that had run from the infected strolled up to these creatures and rubbed against the jacketed one’s leg. They both looked down at it. Then the other one smiled broadly.

  “Do you see his teeth?” I breathed. The sight of those sharp canines set my insides trembling.

  The one in the black shirt picked up the cat and scratched it under the chin. They gave the space one last glance then left. With the cat.

  “Do you think they’re going to eat it?” I whispered.

  “I hope not.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to wait and see if they come back.”

  We watched the cameras together after that. I took a quick break to make us lunch and returned to the control room. Everything remained normal, but after the morning we had, I didn’t trust it.

  With each passing hour, the knot in my stomach grew. We were going to have to go out there again to feed the cattle at some point.

  Adam ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair.

  “I can’t decide if we should go feed now, wait a little longer, or just forget it tonight.”

  “The cows will get loud enough to draw the dead if they don’t get fed. And given how many infected we heard this morning, I don’t want to risk that if they’re still close.”

  He exhaled heavily.

  “Okay. We go now, and we work quickly. Just the cattle.”

  I nodded and stayed to watch the monitors while he prepped our gear. When he called for me, he had two homemade knife harnesses for both of us. Adam’s kill speed was better when he could abandon the knife and grab a new one. I didn’t know my kill speed and didn’t want to.

  “Just in case,” he said when he saw my hesitation.

  I nodded, and he helped me into mine. My hands swept over the knife handles—four in total. The grey things had spooked him. Me too. But I didn’t think more knives would help us if they were still out there.

  Rather than voice my doubts, I gave him a smile that earned me a quick kiss on the forehead. Everything I knew about survival, I knew because of Adam. I hadn’t been a fan of guns, but he’d convinced me that not liking something wasn’t an excuse not to understand it. Learning to use the knives had happened once we were in the bunker. But only as a backup to him.

  As soon as he opened the door, we were on the move. I didn’t need to be told what to do and hurried toward the grain silo. While I worked, Adam watched the doors.

  When I finished unloading the grain, I moved to the drop ladder for the hayloft. Dust danced in the beams of sunlight, peeking through the gaps in the barn boards, as I hurriedly forked enough hay down to feed the cows for the rest of the day.

  Adam was watching the doors when I climbed down and signaled everything was quiet. I didn’t slow, though. After replacing and latching the ladder, I started shuffling the hay over to the cows.

  Before I finished, a sound reached my ears. The tinkling of the chimes. My eyes widened, and I looked at Adam.

  He didn’t look at me, but motioned for the bunker as he backed away from the main door. Outside, an infected moaned.

  Heart hammering, I hurried down the aisle. We made it to the bunker hall just as the cattle called out in fear.

  Neither of us stripped from our gear once we were inside. Instead, we hurried to the control room. The cattle were once again crowded into a corner.

  “I know we tied the chimes,” Adam said. He checked the turbine numbers. “It’s not windy enough for it to have blown loose.”

  We watched the main door open, and two infected strode in. Seeing infected and not the grey men brought us no sense of relief. Especially since a black beast with glowing red eyes kept pace between them.

  My fear reached a whole new level.

  The trio moved to the grain silo door and disappeared inside. Seconds later, the dead man from this morning entered the barn. He studied the cows for a moment before opening his mouth. I could imagine the awful moaning sound he made.

  He edged closer to the silo, his attention not on his companions who’d disappeared within but on the main barn doors.

  Two horses raced inside, making me jump. The whites of their eyes and the way they reared when they saw the dead man in the doorway fully displayed their terror. They didn’t want to get near him. Yet, they couldn’t go back out due to the wave of infected following them in.

  Several of the dead went to the cow pen. I watched in horror as they attacked one of the cows and dragged it outside. The blood trail left in their wake didn’t give me any hope.

  My mind struggled to process what was happening.

  “What are they doing?” I whispered.

  Adam was quiet for several moments.

  “This reminds me of how Dad and I put out corn and apples to bait the deer. I think the grey things weren’t the only ones to notice we were caring for the livestock. Blue-jacket is baiting us.”

  “But why bring in horses then kill a cow?”

  “We can’t stick around to find out. At first light, we’re leaving.”

  After the day we’d had and the hound now hidden in the silo, I wasn’t sure we’d see first light.

  Chapter Two

  We slept in shifts of two hours. My first shift wasn’t pleasant. The infected carried pigs through the barn and out the back. I didn’t know what that meant, other than they’d noticed the hallway leading down to the bunker. One of the smarter infected stationed a few of the slower, new ones there. Before it left, though, it studied the door and tried the latch. It was locked tight, but I didn’t like that the infected knew to try it. Or the way it had looked around afterward. I’d nearly peed myself when it angled its head up and gazed straight at the camera.

  Adam cursed a blue streak after I woke him for his shift and told him what I’d observed. Then he’d kissed my forehead and told me to sleep.

  My second shift wasn’t as bad as the first. The infected had settled down, hiding in various spots in the main area of the barn. If they were waiting for us to emerge, they were going to be sorely disappointed. The cattle were our future, but we weren’t dumb enough to sacrifice ourselves for them. We had the supplies necessary to hole up in the bunker and wait them out for months if needed.

  They’d get bored and wander away.

  However, when Adam woke me up at first light, he was still determined to leave.

  “I’ll clear them out then come back for you.”

  “That isn’t going to work,” I said, watching the monitors with him. “There are four right outside the door. Three in the silo. Seven just standing in the middle aisle of the barn, and who knows how many out back or in the yard.”

  “They were carrying pigs out there, June. Why? And the horses. My gut’s telling me this isn’t something we can wait out. You said one of them looked right at the camera. The one in the blue coat came back in and looked at each of the cameras during my shift. Then, they slowly killed more cows right where I’d see them. They’re too smart. We need to go.”

  “How? If you go out there, you’ll die, and I’ll be alone. Our chance of surviving improves if I go with you.” But we both knew he didn’t want that any more than I wanted him to go without me. “
There’s two of us and more than a dozen of them. We need help, Adam.”

  “From who?”

  We both looked at the radio. The static crackled like it always did, but we knew there were people out there, listening. Good and bad people.

  “Your plan is just as dangerous, June.”

  “Is it? We know what those dogs with the glowing red eyes can do. That’s why you wanted to leave at first light, right?”

  With a sigh, he turned to check frequencies.

  “I’ll make us something light to eat.”

  He nodded, and I went to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, I was scooping the oatmeal into bowls when the static disappeared.

  “End message.”

  The words filled the bunker, followed by Adam shouting my name.

  “Begin message.”

  Grabbing the bowls, I hurried down the hall as I listened.

  “This message needs to make it to the east coast. I repeat, this message needs to make it to the east coast. I’m broadcasting this message on all frequencies for twenty-four hours. The western barrier has been compromised. I repeat, the western barrier has been compromised. I’m relaying the message word for word as it was broadcast. End message.”

  Adam’s shocked expression met mine as only silence came from the radio. Then, the man started talking again.

  “Is it a recording?” I asked.

  Adam spun in his chair, waited for the break, then responded.

  “We hear you. What’s the western barrier?”

  We waited, both of us barely breathing.

  “I don’t know,” the man said. “I was told to pass it on by someone else who didn’t know. Honestly, I’m just doing it because I thought I was alone until I heard the message. We’re not the last ones. At least, not yet. And before you ask…no, I’m not telling you where I am. Stay safe and pass the message on. You’re the only one who’s answered on this frequency.”

  “Has anyone answered on any of the others?”

  “Two. They didn’t give locations, and I didn’t ask. Make sure you do the same if anyone answers you.”

  Adam hesitated and met my gaze before speaking over the radio again.

  “Friend, we’re in a bit of a bind and looking for help. Our place is full of infected and one of those dogs.”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  “You don’t need help. You need a miracle. Sorry, friend. Good luck. Switching to another channel to repeat the message.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. Adam didn’t glance at me as he replied.

  “Understood. I’ll do the same.”

  He sat for a quiet moment then looked up at me with a faint smile.

  “Well, we know we’re not alone.”

  “And we know that no one is likely to help us,” I said, facing the truth.

  “Likely not. Even if we broadcast our location without saying anything about the infected or the dog, anyone who hears it will think it’s a trap.”

  I studied the infected on the monitors as I thought over the message.

  “There’s a barrier out there that was compromised. By what? The runners? Those black dogs? The grey men? Probably all three. Add in some humans who kill for supplies, and what chance do those of us who’ve managed to survive have? How long until you and I are truly alone?”

  Adam took one of the bowls from me and gave my hand a squeeze.

  “That won’t happen if those of us who are left start working together instead of robbing each other.” He set the bowl aside and started writing down the man’s words and the channel. “We might not trust each other enough to share locations, but we can start talking. That’s a start. Maybe we’ll be able to band together eventually.”

  “Maybe we will,” I said, his false optimism not fooling me. Filled with fear and desperation, the end of the world hadn’t brought the best out of people. It had brought out the worst.

  “The message changes the plan, for the moment. I’ll check the other channels. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  “We need to be out of here before dark, June. The only thing that’ll keep us safe is the light.” He changed channels, listened for a minute, then started broadcasting the man’s message.

  I left him to work and considered the information we’d been given. Where and what was the western barrier? Who was the originator of the message, and who was that person trying to reach in the east? Was that where those evacuee camps were? How long ago had we stopped receiving those occasional emergency broadcasts? I’d thought that had meant the evacuee camps were overrun. Now I wasn’t sure.

  More importantly, why send something now, after all this time? If there had been an evacuee camp to the west, why hadn’t we heard messages from that location before now?

  I returned to the kitchen and sat at the table, listening to Adam as he cycled through the frequencies every few minutes. I hoped for both our sakes someone would answer us.

  About an hour later, while I was feeding the fish, Adam swore loudly.

  “What?” I called, hurrying to the control room.

  He pointed to the hallway camera. It was no longer positioned to a view of the door and the hallway.

  “One of the infected suddenly looked up and moved it.”

  “A new one?”

  “No. One that’s been standing there this whole time.”

  I stared at the screen, understanding what that meant. We were blind and trapped by infected smart enough to play stupid.

  “Why move the camera now?” I asked.

  “I think this is all a big trap. They let us see the dog, have been methodically killing the animals, and brought in new ones. They’re baiting us out and know we’re more likely to emerge when the red-eyed dog can’t come out.”

  “Full daylight,” I said, understanding.

  “Exactly.”

  “So we stay and we wait. We have enough supplies to last for months.”

  We both knew that wasn’t an actual option. Before the others on the radio went silent, we’d heard stories about how the dogs would claw and chew their way through anything, if given enough time, to get to a human. The dog would try to get through that door tonight, and we couldn’t be here waiting for it.

  I shivered and knew that was why Adam wanted to leave before dark. The door wouldn’t hold for very long.

  There was a flurry of movement on the screen for the barn. The infected grabbed another heifer and dragged it out of the main door, eviscerating it on the way. I could see Adam’s jaw clench.

  “We’re as good as dead either way. If we stay and do nothing, we lose our future source of food. If we go out there, we die.”

  I set my hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

  “Keep trying the radio. We’re not out of livestock yet.”

  Another hour passed, and I made Adam take a break from the radio. He willingly let me watch the monitors and went to double-check our bug-out bags. Since he was meticulous about checking them once a week, I knew it was more than an inspection. He was getting us ready.

  The infected in the main barn started to move, and the blue coat guy slipped out the side door.

  “Something is happening,” I called to Adam.

  As he entered the room, several more infected merged with the larger group.

  “Where’d they come from?” he asked.

  “Not the side door or the silo. The hallway, maybe?”

  Neither of us looked away from the screens as the infected herd moved toward the main doors, which were shut, and waited there.

  “The blue coat guy went out the side door. This might be another trap to bait us out,” I said, already knowing what Adam would be thinking.

  “Trap or opportunity, I’m not sure it’s safe to keep playing the waiting game.”

  “I’ll suit up.” I swallowed hard, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “Everything’s by the door. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  Nodding,
I hurried to the hall where our bags and jackets waited along with an insane knife arsenal. The jacket was warm but not too bulky, which meant the knife harness Adam had made for me fit comfortably and I could move freely. Once I had everything on, including the bag, I called out.

  “I’m ready.”

  “I don’t think it’s a trap,” he said, emerging from the room. “It’s like they’re waiting for something to come through those main doors. I don’t want to be here to find out what.”

  He picked up his bag and settled it on his back.

  “You open the door and stand behind it. I’ll clear the hall.”

  I nodded and got into position. Adam stood a few steps back, giving himself room to fight whatever was out there.

  “We’ve got this, June. I’ll keep you safe.”

  We both knew there was no guarantee for that anymore, so I said the only thing that was still certain.

  “I love you. Ready?”

  At his signal, I pulled the latch and yanked the door open.

  Noise flooded the bunker.

  Infected moans. Shouting. Cattle crying out.

  “Shut it!” Adam yelled as three infected rushed into the room.

  I tried to slam the door shut, but a hand stopped it from closing all the way. Bracing my weight, I leaned back against the door as I drew my knife. As I’d expected, one of the three inside the room had heard the commotion and turned my way, hands outstretched.

  While Adam continued to fight the other two, I remained focused on the one coming at me. The dead man moved smoothly, reaching for my arm pressed against the jostling door. Its milky eyes never dipped to the knife in my other hand. My sweat-slicked palm slipped on the grip as I drove my knife up under his jaw. He dropped like a stone, taking the knife with him.

  Lifting my gaze, I saw Adam shove one infected into the other one. It stumbled a step back, closer to me. I fumbled for my second knife. The door heaved hard behind me, and the blade clattered to the floor.

  The infected turned toward me. Adam grabbed it by the back of the shirt and swung it around. The door jostled harder, opening a good inch before it crashed shut. I glanced to the side, saw the hand was gone, and slammed the latch into place.