Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series Book 1)

by Quil Carter

  And I didn’t want him to be entangled in my own wild thoughts. Asher made him happy and he deserved to be happy.

  If I said that enough times in my brain maybe my mind would actually believe that that was the end of it.

  It was true though! I pursed my lips as Reaver started getting nails out of the toolbox. With what happened between Greyson and him, and not to mention Leo’s secret. Reaver deserved to have a friend he could relate to, to go and… kill things with. Friends and boyfriends were two different things… right…?

  Right!?

  “Killian?”

  My inner reverie retreated back into my mind, replaced by reality. Reaver was staring at me, one of his beautiful eyebrows raised.

  “Why don’t you start handing me the nails?”

  My cheeks puffed out as I let out a breath. I tore my attention away from my own self-doubt and started helping him board up the windows.

  It took us awhile, and one stubbed thumb, thanks to me distracting Reaver with my small talk, but we got all the windows on the first floor boarded up.

  And now it was time for the hardest part… the second floor which Reaver would do standing on the partial roof of the first floor. My chest bubbled nervously as we stepped back onto my old front deck.

  My parents’ stuff was inside. My mom’s pictures, my dad’s clothing. The stains they left when they were sick were still there. What if the maggots had come back? What if I had left something out? It would be dark inside. What if I heard a noise? Or tripped over something?

  My stomach churned. In my mind I had started running back to Reaver’s basement ten seconds ago, but my feet still remained glued to the ground. I don’t know how long I had just stood there looking at the door.

  “Keys, Killian?”

  I gave a slow and nervous nod. I opened my satchel and brought out my house keys. One for the front, and the back, and our shed.

  I gave Reaver the keys.

  My boyfriend gave me a small smile. He knew I was being silly and I knew I was being silly. I took a few deep breaths.

  “I’m going to ask Redmond, or one of those guys to get my keys from Greyson.” There was another jingle as he unlocked the door. He turned the knob and handed me the keys back. “You should have your own copy. Unless you ever wanted to go back here?”

  The palpitations in my chest answered his question, and since I knew he was listening to them I didn’t bother voicing exactly what I thought of that.

  “Do you want me to go inside first?” His voice was so kind.

  I saw the kitchen for the first time in months. I nodded, trying to make the happiness of getting my own keys outweigh the horror of seeing my house again. I turned my face away as the smell of my home brought back memories I didn’t know if I was ready to experience.

  “Please.” I managed to give him a smile back, but immediately my eyes flicked back to the kitchen.

  Reaver stepped into the kitchen and looked around. He put his hands on his hips. The dry floorboards creaked under the weight of his boots. It made my teeth grind. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been in here.”

  That caught my attention. I swallowed my anxiety and stepped inside. I looked at his back as he casually strolled around the kitchen and sitting area. His hands traced over one of my mother’s bouquets of plastic flowers.

  “When did you come in here?”

  He opened my kitchen cupboards and started pulling out my remaining canned food. “Besides when I grabbed your soap and stuff? When Matt had told me you were missing. I ran back here hoping you had just gone to sleep early.” Reaver pointed by my feet. I looked down and saw dried dirt in the shape of boot prints. I visually traced their trail. They went up the stairs and disappeared.

  I followed them until the edge of the stairs, with my sneakers filling each print I walked up the staircase. My heart seemed coated in a thin layer of ice that cracked with every thud. I heard Reaver following behind me.

  I got to the top of the stairs and saw the boot prints lead into my room. “You knew where my bedroom was?” I asked curiously. I walked into the bedroom and saw the footprints stop at my bed, then turn and leave. They didn’t go into my parents’ room. It was as if he knew the layout perfectly.

  Reaver was quiet behind me. I reached down and picked up an old book I had been reading. I put it down and turned to see what he was doing.

  I was surprised to see he was uncomfortable. His hands were behind his back, and he was staring very intently at the corner of my room. One which held nothing but a wash bucket, a dresser, and some clothes.

  “I could have ended it, that first night…” Reaver whispered, so faintly I could barely hear it.

  “What?” I asked. I turned around but as I did he flushed and mumbled something I couldn’t hear. He walked past me and started opening the window.

  “You can tell me, love,” I said lightly. I tried to put my hand on his shoulder but he walked away.

  Reaver climbed out of the window and balanced himself on the very thin roof ledge below.

  He could have ended it that first night – I didn’t know what he meant by that. I knew better than to get something out of him he didn’t want to tell me. Instead I stood there and passed him nails. Asher wouldn’t pry, so I wouldn’t either.

  Reaver took a nail from me and pinched it between his teeth. He hammered away at my bedroom window. Soon I was shrouded in darkness.

  When the hammer banged against the window for the last time, I moved to my parents’ bedroom.

  The door was closed, and it had been closed since they had died.

  I nervously wrung my hands. Ever since I had spent time with Perish I had started doing that more. Reaver had noticed a few times, sounding very snippy when he pointed it out but every time I felt stressed out I found myself automatically doing it.

  I mentally chastised myself and dropped my hands to my sides.

  I stood in front of the white, chipped door and tried to give myself a small pep talk.

  Mom was gone, Dad was gone. They were never coming back. They were dead, and hiding from their memories won’t do you any good. You have Reaver now, he’ll be there for you.

  I turned the door handle. It was cold, sterile under my touch.

  My parents would never be able to meet my wonderful boyfriend, they would never know that Reaver was amazing. That he was kind to me, loving, protective and… just a perfect boyfriend to me, even though he was a chimera. I wish Mom could have seen that before she died. She died thinking there would be no one in the world to take care of me. I should visit their graves and tell her how great he was. Maybe somewhere she was listening.

  Well, maybe talking now would help. “I am okay, Mom,” I said quietly to myself. “I have Reaver and as long as I have him, I’ll be okay.” I pushed the door open and took a step inside their bedroom.

  It was already partially darkened by Reaver in the window. He was already banging the first piece of wood into the frame.

  My eyes fell first to where the mattress had been. Inside I felt sick as I saw the greasy outline beside the bed, where my dad had rolled off during the night.

  My father, his face was green, he had foamy red blood seeping from his mouth. He had been seizing, like Reaver had, but this had been different. I remember with every jolt, every spastic twitch the white worms that would fall from his orifices. Falling like rain on to the floor.

  I jumped as Reaver opened the window from the outside. He popped his head through the space between the window frame and the boards. “Are you okay?” His voice was so sweet… so caring. He was really trying hard to make this easy on me. Actually it was like he wasn’t even trying anymore. Ever since he defected from Aras he had been so much more kind and considerate. Well, to a point, he was still Reaver.

  I tried to swallow but my throat had gotten parched. For a moment I felt like I was going to gag. No, I was okay. I was okay.

  I nodded and walked to the window. I handed him some nails.

  �
��Was there anything you wanted to grab?” Reaver asked, pinching a couple of nails between his lips. Another board went up.

  “I’ll grab the money and some books, spices, food…” I forced myself to sound okay, though my eyes kept trailing back to the stain on the wood. The stain from my mother was in the living room. I had a rug over it. I remember the maggots had gotten into the valley between the floor boards. I had to pick them out with a knife. They split open and oozed everywhere.

  The smell… the smell. It clawed its way up your nose, infiltrated your brain and coated any other sense in its thick fetid aroma. That smell stays with you, it imprints in you so even the slightest reminder brings it back.

  I gagged. I turned and walked out of the room. Without another word I ran to my old bathroom and threw up in the tub.

  I heard a few more hammerings as I vomited all of my lunch. I was glad Reaver wasn’t coming to my side. The faster he finished the faster we could leave.

  I lurched again, balancing myself with a hand on the cold ceramic and another on the toilet. I was puking all over my clean tub. I had bleached it so many times it was glistening.

  One more gag; the tub sprayed with pieces of rat meat and green beans. I wiped my mouth and spat.

  I leaned back on my knees and tried to catch my breath. Being back here seemed surreal. In my mind I expected to hear my mother behind me asking if I was okay. I had been sick a lot in Skyfall. I remember she used to buy me ginger tea from the shop to settle my stomach. Now… now pain killers and Xanax did the best job of settling me.

  I heard the banging of a hammer, the attic windows were being boarded up now. Then we would be done…

  I wiped both my hands all the way down my face, the smell of vomit and sour bile filling my once clean bathroom. I made a move to get up, bracing myself against my knees. I turned and stood.

  I screamed and jumped back, almost falling into the tub.

  Behind the door was the bathroom was a dead… something. About the size of a large cat, though it was so decayed and rotten I couldn’t tell what size it had been.

  Its grey patchy fur had been shaken from its body during its decay and its stick-like ribs were showing through a quagmire of green flesh. The pit of mortification was moving, as little grain-like worms pulsed and writhed like a single consciousness.

  I screamed again and pushed away from it. I wedged myself in between the bathtub and the toilet and started to wail. I felt my mind go to mush and my fight or flight instincts kick in. Though for me there was a third option: make myself as small as possible and cry.

  I shut my eyes tight, ignoring the smell of decay. I didn’t know how I had missed the stench before.

  My eyes snapped open as the door swung wide, but as it did the corpse was pushed up against the wall. I watched a streak of rotten brown blood and fur follow behind it, maggots raining across the tile like spilled rice.

  Several of them landed beside me. I looked down and saw them wiggling. Their small bodies writhing, and their black heads moving around in confusion.

  Some were on me, they were on me.

  I let out a shriek and felt myself hoisted up by the shoulders.

  I turned and clung to Reaver as I felt my mind break down. I launched into a panic attack and it was a bad one.

  “Give him to me,” I heard Reaver say. Wait, who was holding me? I was passed to Reaver’s strong arms and I felt him run with me downstairs. I could hear someone walking behind us.

  Cold air came to my ragged lungs but I still could smell the corpse. Reaver tried to put me down but I clung to him like a scared kitten. He sat down on the faded grey wood instead and held me tight. Even with someone else there he was holding me.

  “There was a rotting scaver in there.” Fuck, it was Asher. He had picked me up. I had clung to him! Ugh. Where had he come from? Sneaky fuck.

  “He has a phobia of maggots. His parents died very slowly in that house.” I felt bitter pills on my lips. I wanted to tell him not to tell that ass that but the panic attack had an iron grip on my throat. I put the pill under my tongue, feeling my mind spiral and twist like a cement mixer. I kept trying to gasp for breath but the chokehold only allowed me short wheezy gasps.

  “Poor guy.” Asher clucked his tongue. He meant to be sympathetic but in my ears his voice reeked of judgement. I wanted him to fuck off, I didn’t want him around. “Good thing you did it today though, it’s starting to rain.”

  I started to feel my breathing normalize and my racing thoughts slowed down. I looked to see that Asher was right, it had started raining.

  As my vitals lowered, I felt Reaver squeeze me. “You okay, Killi Cat?” he whispered, quiet enough that Asher couldn’t hear. I knew how much he hated showing affection in public, I understood. Though if he showed me some love in front of Asher it might deter him from hitting on my boyfriend.

  I nodded. I was starting to feel a bit better. “Can we just grab what we wanted and go home?” I pleaded in a small voice. So much for being manly… and with Asher here too. I hated myself.

  Reaver nodded and a few moments later we both got up. He held me steady with a firm arm. “Why don’t you sit by the table and give me a rundown on where to find things. Then we’ll hide out in our basement for a while. Stuff you with more drugs.”

  I smiled. That made me feel better. I wanted to kiss him but Asher was there, and besides, my mouth tasted like vomit.

  I sat down by the kitchen table and tried to concentrate on not throwing up. I gave Reaver a short list of what I had wanted to bring home and where to find them. He ran upstairs leaving me in the living room… with Asher.

  I felt uneasy as he leaned up against the door frame. His straight auburn hair had fallen partially over his eyes. I watched as he brushed it away, his long fingers curling it behind his ears. I should pierce my ears… he had piercings, maybe they would make me look more adult.

  No, if you wanted to be more adult you shouldn’t flip out over maggots and rotting corpses. Fucking coward.

  I heard Reaver scrounging around upstairs. Asher was still silent, though his eyes watched me. Not piercing eyes like Reaver’s, ones that seemed to strip you bare with nothing more than a glance, but staring eyes that seemed to take in every movement I made like he was analyzing me.

  Trying to figure me out, asshole? Trying to find out why Reaver likes me?

  My teeth clenched. If he sat in the chair with my father’s jacket on it I might snap at him. No one sat in that chair, it was my dad’s chair. My hands clenched with my teeth. I suppressed a hiss.

  I tried to look everywhere else but at him. Kitchen counters… neat and without clutter. My overhang of pots and pans, all organized by size… my cans of food in cloth bags now.

  “So where in Skyfall were you from?” Asher asked in a cheery voice.

  I stopped looking around. I forced my eyes on him even though it was the last thing I wanted.

  To my annoyance he had left the door frame and was now sitting in front of the piano.

  I tried to suppress it but I was glaring at him. “I could ask you the same.” Oh gosh, I said that really icily. I was surprised at myself but I didn’t show it. I bit my tongue almost as punishment. It was one thing to say those things in my head but…

  Asher chuckled as he played a few notes on the piano. “Moros District. Also known as the shitty slum district.”

  “Tamerlan Factory,” I replied, since he had been polite enough to answer my question, and, more importantly, polite enough to not draw attention to my sour tone. “I came here two years ago. I was fifteen.” I picked up one of my old couch pillows and twisted the fabric in my hand. “How did you get out?”

  Asher gave me a puzzled look. “The normal way,” he laughed, “by car. It’s only in the Nyx, Eros, and Skyland district where you need permission. No one keeps track of the Moros district, you can go wherever you like. But quite frankly it’s safer to be in the slums than take your chances in the greywastes.”

  “Oh… I forg
ot about that.” The only person I had met from Moros was an old store keeper back in the factory town. Usually the defectors went off into the greywaste to live in a block or a town. Though, in all reality, they usually didn’t make it that far. Some mercs just killed them as soon as they got out of sight. More profit and nobody questioned dead defectors. “Is everything there still…?”

  “The same? Yeah, it is.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t surprised. Nothing changed in Skyfall. The elites stayed in their fancy repaired skyscrapers, and the other districts made sure they stayed in luxury (or what qualified as luxury pre-Fallocaust). Such was the class system of Skyfall.

  I sighed and held the pillow close to my chest. I heard the closet of my bedroom close then more footsteps. I wished Reaver would hurry up.

  I watched as Asher played a few more notes on my piano. I wanted to push him off and show him how to really play.

  He stopped and turned around on the piano chair. “So you and Reaver have been dating for a few years now?”

  Stop forcing conversation, you nosey prick. It’s none of your fucking business. Want me to make that pretty face a little less pretty?

  “No, almost a year.” Gosh, that was a bald-faced lie… but… maybe we could start counting when he first started following me? It had to almost be a year, right? No, it was maybe eight months, nine? Dammit, I didn’t know. I was going to have to confess my lie to Reaver and beg him to back me up.

  Asher nodded. He glanced up at the ceiling where we could both hear Reaver. “You’re lucky to have that beautiful creature as a boyfriend. He’s flawless.”

  He’s a chimera, and if Leo hadn’t fled with him you would be fucking licking his boots and, in turn, mine.

  I glared at him. Asher laughed and spun back around on the piano chair. He started playing to the point of perfection.

  I recognized the song, I had always liked it. I felt like singing along, if just to myself, but as soon as he started singing I clamped my mouth shut. Like everything else about him, his voice was beautiful. It was smooth, masculine, and crystal clear. He hit every sombre key, and every lingering note.