Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series Book 1)

by Quil Carter

I turned to run back to where I thought the bike was when I was tackled again.

  I felt the raver bite down on my shoulder. I put my hand on his face and tried to wrench him off but his jaw had locked. I stood up with the raver chewing on my shoulder, and whirled around to scan the surroundings. I found what I was looking for.

  As his teeth chewed into my shirt and skin I turned around and slammed him up against one of the trees. He screamed and sank his teeth in again. I could feel warm liquid running down my neck and back which I think was partially his putrid blood. I stumbled forward and slammed him again, a clenched scream of pain escaping from my lips as he bit down deeper.

  My senses once again went screwy as I heard a loud gunshot, then the jaw loosened off my flesh. I was about to grab my gun when I felt a hand come out of nowhere and pull my shoulder.

  “Let’s go!” It was Asher. I held my pistol, looking around the moonless darkness. I could hear the ravers but my ears had been too buggered by the gunshots and the screaming. They ached and throbbed in protest.

  “One of them tackled you right off the bike. I have it running again. Come on, there are more out there,” Asher gasped. He sounded out of breath. I gave him a quick look to see if he was injured but if he was, he was hiding it.

  I whirled around as I heard a hissing snarl. I raised my pistol and quickly put down a younger one.

  I swore. “They’re fucking stupid as shit but you get a wack of them and you’re in trouble.” I got onto the bike and held my shoulder. I could feel blood seeping through my fingers. I looked behind me and saw three more white shadows in the distance. I wanted to save my bullets so I let them run. If they got too close for comfort I’d shoot them but for now I wanted to concentrate on hearing the ones I couldn’t see. The ones hiding behind trees or rocks ready to rip us apart.

  I opened the barrel of the pistol; I had two more bullets left.

  Another two joined the silhouettes behind us, their wailing screeches mixing in with their counterparts. Their screams were fucking attracting every raver from here to Aras. What had once been a dozen had swelled to fuck knew how many. It seemed like no matter how many lost our trail, or how many we shot, more were taking their place.

  My heart pounded in my chest. I watched with a tight throat as another four joined them.

  I was leading them to Aras. I hope the enforcers and the sentries had their guns ready. I swallowed the needles in my throat and braced myself as Asher started weaving quickly between cars. I looked behind me, into the cold, dim blue darkness for any sign of the block.

  I felt the dirt bike shudder again and then a desperate twist of the throttle. The bike gave a lurch but it was slowing down.

  “Asher?” I said nervously. His breath was a tense rattle and his heart was pounding like the pistons underneath us. He might have been made of tough stuff but he was still human, and I could tell his resolve was slipping with every desperate lurch of the throttle.

  “Just a tight corner…” Asher’s voice was thin. The bike leaned on its side and I put my foot down to help him brace. He slowly weaved us between a broken tractor trailer and a minivan. I cursed and held on to the pistol as the horde of ravers got closer to us.

  I saw a pack of three, faster than the others, speed up as they saw us slow. They stretched their willowy arms towards us, teeth gnashing as if anticipating what our flesh would taste like.

  “Asher!” I said more hastily.

  Asher looked behind him. I saw his face pale. He quickly turned back to the road and gave the throttle a pull.

  His panicked jerk of the throttle stalled the fucking dirt bike.

  “ASH!” I shouted, knowing I wasn’t helping the situation. I turned back and aimed my gun.

  I shot the first one; it fell not six feet behind me. The second one went down ten feet behind him. The dirt bike sputtered and whined. The remaining one lunged over the hood of the van and fell onto the pavement. He got up and ran towards us. I pulled out my combat knife and jumped off the dirt bike. As he opened his mouth to bite my face off, I slashed his throat.

  Stinking putrid blood sprayed from the gaping open wound. I kicked him away and got back onto the bike, waiting for that asshole to start it again. I could hear it sputter and whine, over Asher’s frustrated, desperate cursing.

  Then a large gathering of ravers appeared from behind the tractor trailer.

  The engine whined and struggled again. I bet he flooded it… I bet he fucking flooded it. You’re handing us a death sentence you stupid Morosian retard.

  “I don’t know if this is going to start,” Asher said, panicked.

  My chest gave a tense shake. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the only thing I could think of.

  I ripped off the pin of the grenade and threw it into the amassing group.

  With the grenade still airborne, I heard the dirt bike screech to life. At the same time a relieved moan came from Asher that sounded more like an intense orgasm.

  “Drive!” I hollered. I felt another jerk as he pulled the throttle. I had never felt more relieved to feel us moving.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the grenade bounce into the group. I shielded my eyes. “Prepare your asshole!” I shouted.

  There was an ear-splitting explosion behind us, and a flash of light that illuminated the moonless sky. After the first several seconds of brilliant light faded I watched with glee as the body parts twisted and spun in the air. They landed on the tractor trailer and van behind us with a sickening but satisfying chorus of thuds.

  That bought us time. The remaining ravers were looking around in confusion. The ones who could still walk, or had avoided the blast, were in a stunned silence, looking around dazed.

  “What the fuck was that?” Asher asked.

  “Grenade,” I called back. “And it’s all I have left for fire power. We need to book it.”

  The ravers shook themselves out of their stunned silence as the grey ash started to settle. They burst through the thick smoke and started running towards the dirt bike again, their arms flailing to match their wide stumbling gait. I could see their blackened teeth grinding and snapping at us as they let off howl after shrieking howl.

  I reached into my pocket, but all I had was the C4. It was useless right now, there was no way I would be able to get a lighter going on this bike. I kept feeling around for something.

  When I couldn’t find a thing that would be of use, I drew my hand back up. I made the mistake of looking down. My hand was covered in shiny blood, flowing both from my side and the bite wounds on my shoulder. It was nothing, I’d be fine.

  “We should have radio now, get us some fucking back up!” Asher called from behind me. Once again the dirt bike strained under the uneven road. As we slowed down, the still very large horde started to gain on us again. I ground my teeth, but never had I felt such a living electricity around us. I was in danger, possibly about to get ripped from limb to limb… but fuck, I hadn’t felt this alive since I took Killian’s innocence.

  I brought out my radio with a bloodied hand and pressed on the mouth piece. “Aras, Aras, Aras, any fucking one in Aras. Now!” I called into it. Well, anyone but Killian. He would break the sound barrier with his hysterical screaming.

  “You made that fucking explosion? What are you doing!” The shock in Matt’s voice had bumped it several registers. He knew I meant business if I didn’t even bother with our radio signs.

  “I need men on the wall, we’re on a dirt bike. We have at least two dozen ravers trying to eat us. We have injuries. We’re coming in from the north. Do NOT have anyone on the ground outside the walls.”

  Then a voice I hadn’t heard in a while came on the radio. “Reaver? Where are you? Who's we? Who's hurt?” Greyson was probably wondering how fucking crazy I was for bringing Killian out here. I wasn’t sure how much of Asher he had seen.

  “We’ll be in the north gate soon, open the gate. We’re –” The bike hit a pot hole and I was almost thrown off. The radio didn’t ma
ke it though; it bounced out of my hand and landed beside a rusted-out pickup truck. The ravers ran right past it, their arms outstretched and desperate.

  “Hold on, Reaver. I’m going to speed through this last stretch of road,” Asher called. “We’re on the strip. If you fall off just fucking abandon ship and run to the gates.”

  “Got it,” I called. I was still holding my pistol even though it was useless right now. I felt better with it, at least I could wing it if I needed to. My M16 too if it came to that.

  I looked at the white group of disease-infested, crazed sub-humans behind us. I was amazed to see there were over two dozen of them now. We had quite the clan following us. The quad would’ve never gotten us this far this fast. It would have been a suicide trip if we didn’t have this fucking bike.

  There was a bump as the speeding bike hit a patch of road. I could feel the blood running down my leg now.

  I looked behind me and saw the floodlights of Aras coming closer. I could see my men on the walls, watching and waiting, the lights making them dark ominous figures. The gates were open, with more silhouettes in front of them. My cavalry had arrived.

  “The gate’s open!” Asher called. I heard him turn up the throttle.

  Then I was airborne again.

  I don’t know what he hit, all I knew is, he hit it. My limbs went flying up as I flew through the air, landing hard on the loose dirt below in front of the bike.

  I didn’t have time to feel pain or shock. They were right behind us.

  Time slowed to a crawl in the next several moments. I shot to my feet before I even had a chance to realize how hard I had fallen. I ran over to Asher.

  Asher’s eyes were half-open, he was dazed and confused. The dirt bike was beside him, its wheel still spinning and its headlight illuminating the ground and the dust motes in the air.

  I heard shrieks and hollers all around us, the sound of gunfire, and the loudest noise yet: the deacons’ howling and barking at the aliens invading their land. Again it scrambled my sharp but overwhelmed senses. It took everything I could to concentrate on getting us to safety.

  I picked up Asher by the collar and started dragging him towards the gates.

  There were thuds all around me. I could see sentries jumping to the greywaste floor, their guns unloading clip after clip into the ravers. I walked past them, dragging Asher behind me.

  “Get in!” I heard shouting and realized it was me. “There are too many, get back on the walls!”

  Above I could see the sentries running on the wooden bridges they had lowered over the deacons’ cages, jumping onto the ground to shoot the ravers. No, you idiots… there are too many.

  I could hear screaming, the ravers were screaming. My men were hooting and hollering, so much gunfire. The deacons were going insane in their cages, my chest was vibrating so hard it felt like I had swallowed an amp. Chaos. More screaming… but it wasn’t the ravers.

  I felt two strong arms pick me up, dragging me towards the gate. My hands were still clamped around Asher. He was dragging both of us.

  “Get them back inside!” It was Greyson carrying me; he was angry and shouting. “Leave them, they’re gone. Get back inside the gates and snipe them from the fucking walls like Reaver said!”

  He’s listening to me? I held on tight to Asher and saw the metal gates on either side of me. The shadows of death, the beautiful smell of gunpowder behind us.

  And blood. Fresh arian blood.

  I hung my head down as the pooling blood in my mouth choked me. I spat and felt a cloth wipe my lips. I knew that gentle touch.

  “Killi?” I coughed. I was still being dragged. “Is Asher okay? My sentries?”

  “Greyson is carrying Asher. We have you, baby, we’re all going to your basement.” He was trying his best to sound sweet and supportive, but his voice was shrill.

  “That fuck isn’t.” I pulled away and made a motion to walk away from where we were heading, but to my surprise Killian grabbed me roughly and yanked me forward.

  “No, Reaver.” I had never heard Killian sound this forceful and assertive. Never in my life had he used that tone with me. “Doc has his hands full and Leo doesn’t even know what’s happening. I need to stitch you up and I need Greyson’s help. That’s how it has to be.”

  I grunted but said nothing else. Behind us I could hear a few loose shrieks but they were nothing compared to the orchestra of madness I had been hearing since the cache town.

  Killian was the first to slide down the tank hatch. I went after, leaving a red streak of blood behind me.

  “Sit on the couch.” Killian directed me over to it. He ran back to the tube, stepping back as Reno entered. They both caught Asher as he slid limply down.

  “Are you alright, Ash?” I tried to get a good look at him.

  I was relieved when I saw him nod; I was afraid he had broken his neck or something. “I’m fine, the impact just rattled my brains.” Asher winced as he put a hand to the back of his head. Reno helped him sit down beside my desk. “Nice place you got here.”

  Right, he hadn’t seen my fortified den yet. “Welcome to Shadow de Reaver.”

  Even with blood running down his face, collecting in the scraped road rash he had on his neck and cheekbone, he gave me a very flat look. “It’s chateau, you raver-bitten hack.”

  I snorted back a chuckle and he did too. I knew he’d be just fine.

  Killian rose up from his crate of medical supplies. He looked at me as he held wire and a hook between his fingers. “You were bitten?”

  “Several times, I think.” I ran my hand over my shoulder. I could feel shreds of flesh and pocks of missing skin. I tried to get a better look but my neck gave me an angry jolt.

  Killian’s face dropped. I could see his lower lip tighten. I gave him a small smile to calm him. “They’re not zombies, Killi. I won’t turn into one.”

  He started taking my shirt off. When he saw my chewed shoulder he sucked in a breath. I could feel his light, gentle touch graze the wound. “Still, their mouths are rotting pools of bacteria…” He turned to Greyson. “I have some penicillin but I’d rather give him the full two weeks. Doc’s already warned us about Reaver getting immune to it.”

  I noticed Greyson for the first time. He was wearing a blue shirt and black jeans, with a cowboy hat on top to cover his receding hairline. He looked at Killian and nodded. It looked like he was stitching the back of Asher’s head. “Come by when you run out, and I’ll give you some from our cache. The three hundred milligrams will do.”

  “We’re paying for it,” I said. My voice was raspy and my throat felt like I had swallowed glass. I coughed into my hand, spraying it with blood. “All of it.”

  I wasn’t going for this reaction, but the whole room quietened down.

  Greyson paused as he looked at me. His light grey eyes stared into me, though not hardened or angry. He looked pathetic and sad like he had when I had seen him leaning against the shed.

  I looked away from him, feeling uncomfortable.

  “Reaver…” Greyson sighed and turned around, his eyes fell to my bedroom. “Let’s talk.”

  “No,” I said acidly. I felt Killian start to douse my wound with antiseptic. He made a noise like he was about to say something but I silenced him with a jerk of my shoulder blade. “Do what you need to do and get out of my town.”

  Greyson let out another sigh. He looked at Reno. “Can you take Asher into Reaver’s bedroom for a moment.”

  I knew Reno was taking this seriously, but his mouth pursed tightly like he was in pain. I knew he was holding back, with every fiber in his being, a retort calling attention to all the sexual innuendos that could be made by that comment.

  Reno resisted and just nodded, and helped Asher to the bedroom. I bored holes into Killian’s head as he followed.

  My bedroom light turned on, and the door shut.

  “I’m sorry, Reaver.” The words bounced off of my armour like they were paperclips. I picked up the thread that Killi
an had left dangling from my side and started stitching myself.

  “Okay, thanks,” I said, then raised my voice. “You can come back out now.”

  Before the door handle could jiggle, Greyson locked all three of them inside. “No, they can’t.” He pinched the corners of his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger and sat down where Asher had been. I saw the corners of his eyes water. The discomfort in me grew.

  “Get out of my house,” I said, my voice dripping acid. “Or I will put you out in pi-”

  “Stop being so stubborn!” Greyson suddenly roared. I heard the distinct sound of the door knob rattle as they heard him yell. “Mickey’s dead because of this stunt, okay? And Houston. Matt might die too. I’m not playing this… this stubborn game of yours tonight. Just… just stop it, alright? Listen to me, for one second.”

  Matt’s hurt? And that new kid’s dead? Shit…

  I decided then I would listen.

  Greyson dropped to his knees in front of me and he put his hands on my shoulders. I tensed up so tightly I thought my muscles would spasm.

  “Chance… Reaver…” His voice wavered. I bristled at being called my birth name but I stayed quiet. I was going to listen. I had to keep telling myself that.

  “You’re not like everyone else. You know that, Leo and I know that, Killian even knows that.” The strange tone in his voice was what got me. His voice had a weight on it that seemed to press down on my chest with each word. “And it’s not your eyesight, it’s not your hearing.” He took a deep, rattling breath and squeezed my shoulders.

  “Your brain is different, Reaver. You’re not like us… it’s harder for you to be a good person than a regular arian. It takes effort for you to do the right thing… doesn’t it?”

  I stared at him. My chest was tingling with forming ice crystals, encasing my heart in cold. I wouldn’t nod, but I… I did agree. I hadn’t realized how different I was until I had become a teenager. My mind was always fighting over what I wanted and what I assumed was morally right. They rarely were the same thing.

  Greyson nodded. I think he knew me enough to take my silence as an agreement.