by Aline Riva
Deserted with the dead Book 5 :
Freedom
By
Aline Riva and Nathan Ward
Deserted with the Dead Book 5 Freedom by Aline Riva and Nathan Ward
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
A Kindle Original 2017
Copyright © Aline Riva and Nathan Ward 2017
Cover Design Copyright © Nathan David Ward 2017
The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
All rights reserved. No part of this publication be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Deserted with the dead Book 5 :
Freedom
Introduction:
Three months after the Arctic Battle, heavily guarded factories were taken over by the military and the production of the gas capable of destroying the undead began. This happened worldwide, as the frightened humans who had been driven into hiding and shelter away from the apocalyptic threat of the blood-hungry corpses saw a light at the end of a long and dark tunnel:
There was hope at last.
The first phase saw whole industrial areas used for the gas and weaponry manufacture, then other designated areas taken up purely as distribution points. The military took charge quickly, spraying the cities from the air and taking to the towns armed with the canisters and spray guns. It was a heavy task, one not to be taken lightly, certainly no assumptions were to be made that this would easy. The dead had to be in direct contact with the gas for full effect, those lurking in hiding remained unaffected, like a silent army scattered about the globe, waiting to strike.
The gas would be in use for a long time before the world would be declared free of the reanimated corpses. Claiming back the world would be a difficult task, one that would be hampered by corpse attacks and science could offer no more help – the B Virus children of the world, the victims of the mutant snake bites, would soon be offered an antidote hoped to improve their quality of life and certainly curb their craving for dead human remains. It was also well known by now that a successful antidote had been developed to counteract blood to blood contact with the undead – but a cure for the bite was out of reach. It seemed nothing could prevent the virus taking hold when transferred in this way, and the bite of the undead remained as much of a threat and a source of fear as it had in the days before the invention of the gas.
But the tale of the Arctic heroes had spread worldwide, and it was common knowledge amongst those who had fought in that landmark battle that if the day came when the war was won, when the world was reclaimed and their story was all over the media, fame and fortune would most likely beckon. That was a thought that made David cringe and long for anonymity and Rick's eyes light up as he considered every possibility from interviews to writing his life story... The Arctic survivors felt as if they had come through what was possibly the worst battle in the history of the war against the undead, and after the gas testing experiment they had been right, but a corner had now been turned:
Those guns were rolling off the production line night and day, the gas cannisters were produced in their millions, the gas was the hope of the world now...There was now a very real possibility this war really could be won.
Underground Base Earth - 40, Rick Lester:
The news from the surface is good. The weapons tested in Antarctica are being mass produced now. Whole cities are being treated, we are making huge progress. Or should I say, THEY are making huge progress. Since the Arctic, Captain Swan has remained at the base, and so have we. Jason reckons she's staying put just because she wants to be sure Vince is okay. I say that's bollocks, she's as shattered by the Arctic as the rest of us. We all needed rest – but we all want to get back out there and finish this job now.
Yesterday I was told my head injury is completely healed. I knew that anyway because I feel fine and although Lois says I'm a bit more forgetful than I used to be, I don't really notice that. But as I stand in the bedroom of our living quarters and look into the mirror, I'm pausing to run my fingers through my hair, it's grown back now and looks fine but I just want to be sure that scar isn't visible. I get those days, when I think too much about what I've been through. Sometimes I look at my metallic hand and remember the day I had to cut off the real one because of a corpse bite. Then I'm not Rick Lester, Mall King and Arctic hero – I'm just a bloke with scars on his head and a missing hand and I hate it when I feel that way...
But all of us will have the chance of a better life when this war is over. David wants to be anonymous, he said he won't even give an interview. As for me, I see myself giving many interviews, signing autographs...then my biography, then maybe...Rick Lester: Mall King, the movie!
That thought cheers me up as I turn away from the mirror, pausing to adjust my prosthetic hand. I've built Vince a new arm. The army funded it and provided the materials – the first prosthesis I've made since replacing my own hand, I did a good job of it, too.
Me and Lois are worried about Flossie having the B Virus antidote when it's perfected, it's not an easy choice to make even though the science team are sure its effective and we've all seen the miracle that happened for Vince after I gave him the A – strain blood infection shot. Yes, it's safe, it's probably very safe – but we love her like our own child and it's not an easy choice to make. We just want the best for her.
And as for being stuck down here underground while those guns are being made and the gas is being sprayed over every city...I know where I'd rather be, the same place all of us want to be:
This war isn't over yet, and we want to be out there again, fighting alongside the other soldiers and civilian fighters. We want to be there at the end, to finish what we started, we want to help to claim back this world as our own, we're ready to fight again...
Chapter 1: The Clean Up Plan
As Rick turned from the mirror, his thoughts still on the action happening miles above ground, Lois pushed aside the curtain that divided up the room and entered the bedroom.
“Flossie's down the corridor, she's playing with Marie.”
“Playing?” Rick said in surprise as he thought of his mutant adopted daughter, who lately had started to surprise everyone, saying the odd word here and there, showing more glimpses of a human side they had first assumed to be lost forever.
“She's teaching her to play catch with a ball,” Lois replied.
“I think she'll get the hang of it soon enough,” Rick told her, “We just have hope she starts throwing it to Marie and not at her.”
Lois laughed as she walked over to him.
“Well that's just typical of Flossie!”
Then she paused, looking to her handsome lover as he stood before her in dark jeans and polished boots and a partly open shirt. His hair covered the scarring well now, he looked so much better and after having a check up recently, had been told he was fully recovered – and it certainly showed, the sparkle was back in his eyes.
“You look amazing,” she said softly, meeting his gaze as in one awful moment she caught a flashback to the aftermath of the battle with Mortiz and thought once again how strong Rick had been to pull through his ordeal.
Rick placed his hand on her cheek and the feel of his touch, so gentle yet cold as steel as the metallic hand made contact with her soft skin, made her sigh.
“I love you,” she whispered as his other arm
slid around her and pulled her close.
Rick smiled a slow smile as he felt her go limp in his arms, as if she might have swooned into a dead faint at any moment - he loved that feeling of having such control over her, purely by a look, Lois was crazy for him...
He pulled her close and kissed her, that kiss soon became passionate, but then as a thought struck him he let go of her and Lois, whose head had swam as he swept her off her feet, staggered a little, not expecting to be brought out of such bliss so sharply.
“What's wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing...I just thought of something..Where is it?”
She watched as he pulled the curtain aside to adjoining room.
“Aha! Found it!” he exclaimed.
Her eyes widened.
“Rick, no!” she said in a low voice, “She never, ever parts with that blanket!”
He cautiously held out Flossie's stinky blanket at arms length between the thumb and forefinger of his metallic hand as he made for the door.
“Laundry room's next door...I just need to sneak past Flossie...”
He went to the door and Lois followed. Rick looked out, saw Flossie up the other end of the corridor, playing catch with a ball.
“No,” Marie said to her, “Throw it harder, Flossie...to me.”
Rick hurried next door to the laundry room, opened up a washing machine, stuffed the blanket inside, filled the machine with powder and fabric softener, spilling it on the top of the machine in his haste. Closing the door and hitting the button and watching as the machine came to life as water gushed in and then the drum began to turn, washing that filthy blanket, felt like a big victory.
“Rick!” he heard Lois say, then as he also heard Flossie running up the corridor.
He turned around in front of the machine, just in time as the mutant child stood there, grey face frowning, black eyes regarding him curiously.
“What do?” she asked in a deep but strangely melodic tone, using a broken speech pattern that he could understand well by now.
“What am I doing?”
“What do?” she repeated, trying to get a glimpse at the machine as he stepped to the side, obscuring her view again.
“Just standing here... Not do anything.”
In that moment, if not for her grey skin and black eyes, Flossie would have looked like a regular child, standing there in jeans and a t shirt, her hair tied in a ponytail – something Lois had finally managed to persuade her to do, she had also added a ribbon to her hair but that was gone now, probably chewed up and left in a gooey mess in the corridor somewhere by now, Rick guessed.
“What...What...do?” she demanded, darting forward, grabbing at him and swinging around, desperate to see what was in the machine that contained water.
“Oh no...” he said as she peered in, then her eyes widened at the sight of her blanket going round and round...
She stepped back, glaring up at Rick.
“No! Flossie bark!”
He gave a sigh.
“Blanket not bark, although sometimes I wouldn't be surprised if you did, sweetheart! Sorry, but it was stinky. It was so bad I could smell it two rooms away! You like bad smells, we don't!”
Flossie's expression changed to a deep sulk.
“Go and play,” he said to her, “I'm sorry but it had to be washed, Flossie.”
She walked off looking down at the ground, Rick watched as she went back up the corridor, picked up her icky stick and stood there uninterested as Marie offered her the ball once more.
“Come and play, Flossie,” she said kindly, and then Rick joined Lois in their apartment, closing the door behind him.
Up the corridor, as David opened up his door, he paused to lean in the doorway, smiling as he watched Marie trying to coax the mutant child to play.
“There you go, Flossie,” said Marie, placing the ball at her feet and stepping back a short distance.
Flossie was still thinking about her blanket, the one she had dragged around since Fearland, the same blanket that she had taken off the stretcher back at the underwater base after Rick had been taken away for treatment. It smelled of the man she now thought of as Dad. It even had his bloodstains on it, the scent of him had been so strong, she thought of it as dad smell and as it had dried it had become so pleasant, made her feel safe...And he had washed it...
“Flossie?” said Marie.
She put her icky stick down on the floor and picked up the ball, holding it in both hands, still sulking over the blanket.
“Throw to me,” Marie urged her, “Harder this time.”
Flossie hurled the ball at angry speed, it slammed not the side of Marie's head, knocking her to the floor.
“Flossie!” she exclaimed as she pulled her self slowly upright, “That hurt!”
The mutant child looked at her in alarm, then Rick opened up the door and saw David hurry over to help Marie to her feet.
“She threw it at me, not to me!” Marie said, getting up as she leant on David, still feeling slightly stunned and glad of his support.
“Sorry,” Rick called down the corridor, “My fault - I just washed her smelly blanket, she's not happy about it. Flossie, get back here now!”
Flossie looked apologetically at Marie, picked up her icky stick and walked back down the corridor obediently, meeting Rick in the open doorway.
“Naughty Floss!” he said, “Now go to your room!”
Then she went inside and he closed the door.
Up the other end of the corridor, Marie leant on David as he helped her over to the nearest doorway – the one that led to his room.
“I'm fine, really,” she said, but she knew she was slightly unsteady because Flossie was a good deal stronger than she realised and that ball had hit her hard...She was thankful that David helped her over to his bed, where she sat down as he closed the door.
“I think you need to rest for half an hour. And if you still feel unsteady, I'll take you up the medical centre just to be sure you're okay. Flossie is a lot stronger than she looks...”
Marie pushed her long blonde hair off her shoulder, then gave her head a rub as she laughed.
“Rick washed her blanket? He actually got to take it away at last? No wonder she was angry!”
“It did stink, though!”
David sat down beside her. Clearly, Marie was over the blow to the head and just fine, because she was no longer unsteady now. He laughed too.
“She must have caught him washing it!”
They both laughed together, and as their eyes met, that moment seemed to melt away all the ice that divorce and years of separation had set between them.
“It's good to see you with Flossie,” he told her warmly, “You were playing with her like you used to play with our boy when he was younger. You're a great mum.”
“Thanks,” she replied, looking to the man who she had thought many times over she ought not to have let slip away.
“I'm glad I found you again,” she added, “I know it's only been three months since Tara died and I'm not trying to take her place -”
“You couldn't,” he said quickly, “No one could replace her. She was her own person, only one Tara. But having you here, back in my life, at this time when the world's shot to pieces, it does make a difference.”
“It makes a difference to me too,” she replied honestly.
As their gaze locked, no words were needed as they both moved closer until their lips touched, the kiss that followed was brief but tender, then David reached for her, pulled her into his arms and then drew her down on to the bed, as holding her once again after so long felt like home, and summer storms and kisses in the rain, it all brought back a past that was dashed away and thought lost – but now it been found again, and as he held her and whispered he had missed her, she replied with a kiss, then he made to his former wife, and for the time he was in her arms, nothing mattered but feeling that he had truly returned home at long last.
As Captain Tina Swan made her way up the co
rridor towards David's room, her heart felt heavy with a mix of hope and sadness – hope for the future but sad that the brave survivors of the Arctic battle would be asked to join the fight against the undead once more. They needed the manpower out there, soldiers and civilians alike, they needed anyone with battle experience to help distribute the gas – the heavy work was done, now it was a case of teams going out to take out the last of the lurking corpses, perhaps the most dangerous job of all...
Since returning from the Arctic, she had wanted to get back out there with the remains of her unit and the new soldiers brought in to replace the fallen, she had wanted to join the effort to rid this world of the undead. But central command had ordered she stay put, along with the other survivors. It had been recognised the Battle of the Arctic was an historic event, as well as a time when immense courage had been shown in the face of almost overwhelming odds as as the experimental gas had been tested for the first time. This had been recognised well, and this time of rest had been under orders.
She had been partly relieved to have a break from the war, she was also glad the brave civilian fighters who had survived had been able to have this peaceful time too, they needed it so much, they needed to recover, these were people who had never fought before the undead had arisen, most of them had never had to deal with hostility of any kind until the outbreak, when they had chosen to bear arms.
Vince was getting used to the arm Rick had built for him, his recovery was complete and had been so rapid that she was sure her admiration for him had never been deeper – her friendship with Vince had grown so much since his recovery, she didn't know if he thought of her as a good supportive friend, or if he felt as she did – much deeper - but the time had not yet been right to voice those feelings.... But the rest had been welcome for all of them, and now she felt bad for breaking that respite as she knocked on David's door.
