by Quil Carter
THE FALLOCAUST SERIES
Book One
FALLOCAUST
By Quil Carter
© 2014 Quil Carter
All Rights Reserved
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission.
THIRD EDITION
In The Fallocaust Series
Fallocaust Book 1
Breaking Jade - A Companion Book to Fallocaust Book 1
Fallocaust Book 2 – The Ghost and the Darkness Vol. 1
Fallocaust Book 2 – The Ghost and the Darkness Vol. 2
Severing Sanguine – A Companion Book to The Fallocaust Series Book 2
Fallocaust Book 3 – The Suicide King Vol. 1
Fallocaust Book 3 – The Suicide King Vol. 2
Garden of Spiders – A Companion Book to The Fallocaust Series Book 3 Vol. 1
Garden of Spiders – A Companion Book to The Fallocaust Series Book 3 Vol. 2
Fallocaust Book 4 – A God Among Insects Vol. 1
Fallocaust Book 4 – A God Among Insects Vol. 2
Also by Quil Carter
The Gods’ Games Book 1
Silent Ground Part 1
Silent Ground Part 2
Keep me from starving on Patreon! I’ll draw you shit! And you can also get cool stuff like magnets, stickers, signed bookmarks, signed books, and my soul and dignity (Just kidding, I have no soul and I’ve never had any dignity).
https://www.patreon.com/quilcarter
This book is dedicated to Alex, my first cat, and Theo, my first kitten. I miss you both.
“And the most terrifying question of all may be just how much horror the human mind can stand and still maintain a wakeful, staring, unrelenting sanity.” Stephen King – Pet Sematary.
How to read this series.
The best way to read The Fallocaust Series is series book followed by its companion book. So Fallocaust should be followed by Breaking Jade, and Book 2 The Ghost and the Darkness Vol. 1 and The Ghost and the Darkness Vol. 2 should be followed by Severing Sanguine. On every companion book’s title and cover is the series book it is matched with.
You get the picture. Enjoy!
Chapter 1
Reaver
I would say that I never let harm come to him, but in this world harm comes to us all. I suppose it wouldn’t be a stretch to say I looked out for him more than the others in my block. Not anything too obvious, just making sure he didn’t leave the community without me close by, and making sure he always had enough water and food. It got hot here during this time of year, and the canyons were dry.
His name was Killian, the boy I couldn’t help but guard. I knew he probably didn’t like having the extra trigger following him around, but I didn’t trust him to know how to defend himself properly yet. His mother and father were not native greywasters, only arriving in Aras a little over a year ago. Normal enough people, willing to work and patrol for a place to live and a place to raise their kid.
Aras, our small town or ‘block’ as we called it, wasn’t well known, but those who did know about it knew it was one of the safest places to be before the blacksands. It was secluded and hidden behind a few miles of harsh, jagged rocky terrain, which acted as the best defence against the creatures and ravers that scoured the greywastes. But on the other hand, we were isolated from almost any news coming from bigger towns like Anvil, or any merchandise the merchants brought from Skyfall.
I suppose you took the good with the bad. I didn’t give a shit what was happening in the world – I had enough to deal with protecting my own life and Killian’s.
Which brings me back to my new little head case.
They arrived with several mercenaries that must have cost them a small fortune considering the distance and the danger. When he had arrived originally, I had barely given him a second glance. I was exploring my territory more back then and wasn’t around that much to notice him. He was just a scrawny little blond kid that was too quiet for his own good. Now though, he had caught my eye and my attention.
I watched him from a distance since he had already learned from everyone else to stay away from me. He was soft, or as soft as you can get when you live in a post-apocalyptic hell hole. He barely knew how to fire a gun, and the only skill he seemed to have was being invisible to everyone around him.
He wasn’t bad on the eyes, though that wasn’t a skill… a hindrance actually considering wasters liked to rape and eat good-looking arians. He had dirty blond hair like his mother, and deep blue eyes; the kind of blue you just don’t see in this world anymore. The kind of blue you can only see in the books he scavenged, or the sky before the bombs, I guess.
I saw him smile a few times, and perhaps that’s what got me started with the second glances. Unlike most of my community, he had teeth that were as white as bone. He was the only bastard out here that actually took care of himself. Probably found some toothpaste or some shit when he was scavenging ruins. I’d never seen anyone smile like that in my life, mostly since there was never anything to smile about.
What he was so happy about I didn’t know, didn’t care really, but the prospect that this kid was sunny enough to flash the sizors was fascinating to me. The only time I ever really smiled was when I was cutting someone’s throat; but the more I started to notice this kid, the more I found myself smiling in my head.
Everyone else around here, well, to put it nicely, I couldn’t fucking stand them. They were stupid, and didn’t know their heads from their assholes. Most didn’t know how to read, or write, and were a fork and knife away from being called ravers themselves. But not this kid; he seemed different, seemed like he knew shit. It was refreshing. Though I still kept my distance from him and watched from the corners, which was typical of me. I disliked speaking to people, and avoided it at all costs.
Like I said before, people knew to stay away from me, and he had learned from them to stay away from me as well.
So he pretended I didn’t exist and I did the same. I watched and carried on my duties as sentry, and Killian carried on with his parents as he had been doing since he came here, with that smile of his, and all his odd happiness.
Like all things though, his happiness wasn’t meant to be, and the reality of living in hell caught up with Killian.
Everything changed for him when we ate his parents.
The leader of my town, Greyson, one of the few educated fools in my block and the guy who raised me, had the courtesy to ask his partner Leo to take Killian for a walk, before we shot them where they lay.
They had become diseased from the bad meat of one of the stock; a disease called trideath. We had all seen it before, but that didn’t make it any less grisly. Violent puking, the shakes, fever so hot you could almost hear their rotting skin sizzle. I’ll never forget the smell.
We knew they were dead, and the longer we left them the bigger chance their own meat would become spoiled and no good. Food is scarce enough here, so what’s the use wasting good flesh?
Since my M16 rifle would have caused too much of a mess, I put my hand out to accept Greyson’s 10mm pistol. It wasn’t my choice of weapon, not enough splatter, but I suppose in this ‘delicate’ case (Grey’s words not mine) it was necessary.
I can remember it clearly. His mother had her eyes closed; her face was sweaty and discoloured, a marble of greys and greens. She was shaking violently in the quarantine shed. The father was choking on his own vomit and would have probably been dead in a few minutes anyway.
I didn’t hesitate… I
never do.
A bullet in the head for each of them, with some minimal brain splatter like Grey had requested. After the twitching stopped, he summoned a couple of the butchers to cart them off to the processing building, so the kid didn’t have to see the carnage.
Everyone was eating good arian meat next distribution day. Well… everyone but Killian.
From the basement of my house, I heard him screaming through the night. I had trouble sleeping because of it, but after popping a few pills I managed to drift off. He was quiet the next morning, but I never saw his smile again, and I suppose that was when the following started.
He spent most of his time with his nose to the ground, barely looking where he was going. He rarely talked, and mostly sulked around the block looking depressed.
I didn’t get the point in moping about death. I had eaten my parents years ago. The life span around here wasn’t that long, and almost everyone I knew had either dined on a parent, sibling or kid. They might’ve done things a bit differently in Skyfall, but this is just how it was in the greywastes.
But he had his books to help cope, and from the looks of it he knew how to read them. So instead of having his nose to the ground dragging his feet, he had his nose in a tattered book.
And that’s where today brought me.
Keeping my distance as I always did, I sat on top of one of the many red crags surrounding our block and watched him read – my M16 securely placed, loaded and ready as always. I also had several combat knives: strapped to my ankle, my forearm, and in a sheath on my belt ready for action. I didn’t have anyone watching my back unlike Killian, so I never went anywhere without being armed to the teeth.
I pulled a cigarette from behind my ear, and lit it with an old butane lighter. Inhaling the smoke, I watched him turn a page of the large tattered book he was reading. I tucked the lighter into one of the pockets on my pants, right beside a frag grenade I had stuck in there this morning.
I was ready to defend myself, from whatever shit the greywastes brought to me. From the weapons I would stash wherever I had room, even my choice of clothing; everything on me had me ready for a fight.
I always wore a bulletproof vest, which doubled as both armour and warmth in the colder months. It was black in colour, with three belts strapped across it lengthwise, to make it tight enough around my chest so it didn’t interfere with my agility. I also wore black fatigues with about half a dozen pockets to hide whatever I needed. The fabric was thick, but I still wore leather wraps around my knees and elbows for some extra protection.
Killian, on the other hand, was wearing nothing more than a black jacket he had found and a ratty old pair of jeans. It seemed this kid had a death wish. And he could have; I never liked the way he looked over the edge of the canyon.
I took another drag of my smoke and blew it out of the corner of my mouth, watching him. He didn’t seem to have noticed me yet, though even if he had I doubt he would ever look up and acknowledge my presence.
He had some dried meat resting beside him on a rag, and an old soda bottle full of water. He sat on a boulder below and continued to read. He was completely unarmed, which always annoyed me. It was one thing to protect the kid, but going out of the safety of the community without a gun or at least a knife was as good as suicide. It was just plain stupid, but then again, if he was smart enough to know I would never let him leave the block alone, perhaps he was smarter than I gave him credit for.
As I sat there and thought, I realized that we hadn’t ever exchanged any words. Everyone kept their distance from me and I kept my distance from them. I think they stayed away more out of fear than respect; I had a reputation of being a bit cold-blooded and heartless and, quite frankly, I did nothing to discourage it. What Killian thought, though, was beyond me. I never asked and he never told. He wasn’t much of a talker anymore anyway, and since his parents had died I don’t think he had uttered more than a polite greeting unless prompted.
I licked my parched lips and quietly grabbed the silver flask I kept at my hip. I unscrewed it and brought it to my mouth. I grimaced, realizing that I had forgotten to fill it before I left to follow Killian. I tapped the flask against my knee in annoyance and watched Killian take another swig of the water in his soda bottle.
Why did he always remember these types of things? Food? Water? I was too busy making sure he didn’t become canned meat.
I shrugged off my annoyance and continued to watch him, ignoring my increasing thirst. If I was a different person I would just stomp down there and grab the water bottle from him and take a drink, but that wasn’t me. Like I said, we had never spoken a word to each other, and for some reason I felt compelled to keep that our thing. He probably didn’t have much to say anyway.
Or maybe he had everything to say. I’d found the people who talked often usually talked about nothing, whereas the quiet ones…
Killian was different. He was the young silent type, which was what I liked. The type that can grab a book and read for hours, without having to talk about shit or make noise, I admired that. I was no stranger to being alone; the giant red rocks around me had been my solace since I was young. I spent many silent hours up there watching the greywastes, and surveying what I liked to pretend was my territory.
It was the only area, besides my best friend Reno’s shack, with a good view. If you climbed high enough on the dusty crags you could see the steep canyons stretch out for miles. It was no maintenance protection on the north side; only someone with a lot of experience could navigate through them and come out with all their body parts.
To the south was nothing but factories and abandoned towns teaming with creatures you wouldn’t want to meet on a good day. We stayed away from that area. Well, occasionally I ventured out in that direction to snipe legionary soldiers, but that was more my and Reno’s thing. I had earned a good reputation among those soldiers. I even had a nickname since I was too quick for them to identify me: the Raven.
I scanned the jagged canyons that stretched out below us, and besides the occasional hopper bug chirping in the distance, not a single thing could be heard or seen. I smirked and gave Killian a quick glance, analyzing his position. I wanted to do one more check to make sure nothing would sneak up on me while I had some fun with him.
I was thirsty, and I wasn’t about to spend the next couple of hours waiting for him to finish his stupid textbook before I could get a drink of water. The heat from the sky was beating down on me. Summer was just starting, probably one of the warmest of the months right now, and I didn’t need to pass out from heat-stroke the moment some trouble showed up.
At least that’s how I justified it to myself.
I moved silently. I always moved silently. It didn’t take much to make a huge amount of noise in these canyons, and, given the chance, the canyons would sell you out in a second. I was different though. I wasn’t a stupid rat, or a radiation-crazed raver. I spent the better half of my existence manoeuvring from rock to rock and I was the picture of stealth.
I quietly crawled down off of my perch the same way I had gotten up there, and my feet landed on the slab of rock below me with a soft thunk. I froze and craned my ears to listen for any sounds indicating Killian had noticed, but there was none. Of course there wasn’t; a raver or a radiated animal could be breathing down his neck and I bet that boy wouldn’t look up from that book.
Scaling down the rock slab until I was on the same level as Killian, I pressed my back against the jagged mound. I knew that on the other side was my little blond creature.
I silently dusted myself off and looked past the slab of rock, up the trail that I knew led to him. I could see his shadow in the afternoon sun, and from where I was standing I could even see the soda bottle. Exactly what I had been looking for.
I smirked to myself and wetted my dry lips. I watched as Killian’s hand appeared from behind the rock, grasping the bottle. I heard the crinkling of plastic as Killian took a drink, and then heard him setting it back down beside hi
m.
It couldn’t have been more perfect, I thought to myself with a smile. I glanced behind me to make sure nothing would be sneaking up on me while I snuck up on Killian. Then I took a silent step forward.
I lightly tiptoed towards the unsuspecting boy, so quiet that I could hear every breath coming from his lips.
As I got closer I could see more and more of Killian’s body. The back of his head was perfectly still like a canyon hawk surveying his land. But Killian wasn’t surveying, or perching. He had his face in a book, his mind off somewhere wonderful probably, distant lands where trees were still green, where animals were covered in fur, where food had colours unseen in this world… where people were kind and nice.
Some place that didn’t exist anymore, at least not in the greywastes. Skyfall maybe. I’d never been to the king’s island myself, and I probably never would.
Killian’s blond hair seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Golden strands fell past his ears – he was forever tucking them behind those ears as he read. His hair was clean, and I could smell the soap he used from here. I briefly felt annoyed at how different the kid smelled; he was probably attracting every radanimal from here to Skyfall, but I couldn’t bring myself to think negatively about such an intoxicating aroma.
His differences enticed me. The way he didn’t want to smell like death unlike most of the wasters in our block. I had tried to keep myself clean, but I had much better things to do than bathe in my crappy bathtub. I was a sentry and sentries had to keep watch. Scrubbing the dirt off of your ass took time away from my job.
At least, that’s what I told myself. But, no matter how many excuses I made, I still wished at that very moment that I had at least washed the blood off of my hands from feeding the deacons.
