Death of Innocence: Book 4 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Surviving the Fall Series - Book 4)

by Mike Kraus

  “Hey kiddos, I’m going to get a shower. Mark, you keep a close lookout, okay?”

  Mark turned to look at his mother and nodded. “Will do.”

  Dianne smiled, gave Mark a thumbs up and headed towards the front door. She pulled off her sneakers and threw them in a pile of shoes before heading upstairs. As she waited for the hot water to arrive, she looked herself over in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were deepening, her hair was frizzled and her skin looked—to her own critical eye, at least—like it was sagging. She turned away and got into the shower, washing out the day’s dirt and grime from her hair and skin, trying to empty her mind and avoid thinking about her husband being gone, her son growing up far too fast for his own good and any other depressing thoughts that happened to float past.

  Chapter 4

  Outside Nellis AFB

  Rick drove along Interstate 15 for close to an hour before stopping near the outskirts of the Valley of Fire State Park. Not wanting the heavily armed vehicle to draw attention he pulled off to the side of the road and behind a stand of trees before stopping and getting out.

  “Time to see what’s in here.” Rick hadn’t wanted to stop anywhere near Nellis or Las Vegas in general for fear of having people from the city show up and surprise him. Out in the middle of nowhere, though, he felt slightly safer.

  Rick opened the rear hatch on the Humvee first and grinned at the dozen or so green cans filled with ammunition ranging from 9 millimeter to three boxes of fifty-caliber for the mounted machine gun. Four M4 carbines were stacked next to the ammo containers along with two pistols and a shotgun. All of the weapons had scratches and dents on them but appeared to be thoroughly cleaned and oiled. A satchel of filled magazines for the pistols and rifles sat behind them and Rick grabbed it, one of the rifles, a pistol, the shotgun and a can of ammunition for the shotgun and carried them all around to the front passenger seat.

  He loaded and chambered a round into the P320 before sticking it into his waistband at the small of his back. The M4 was loaded next and Rick pulled off the rubber cover from the ACOG scope before pulling the rifle up to his shoulder. The balance felt natural to him and the scope was pristine so he re-covered it and laid the rifle across the seat. Finally Rick picked up the shotgun and studied it, trying to conjure the name of the curious-looking weapon in his hands.

  “Oh. M26.” Rick snorted in amusement and hefted the weapon. Designed to be attached to the underside of a combat rifle, the M26 was also capable of being mated to a stock and operating independently. The M26 in his hands was in such a configuration complete with a basic sight and a thin strap attached to the base of the short barrel and the rear of the stock. “This thing’s gonna hurt like hell with a barrel like that.” Rick murmured to himself as he loaded a short magazine with shells and slapped it into the gun. He leaned the rifle up against the passenger seat and looped the strap around a post sticking out of the floor before nodding in satisfaction. “Good. I’m armed again. About time.”

  After closing the rear hatch to the Humvee, Rick climbed into the backseat again, unlocked the hatch to the top and stood up. Bits of broken razor wire greeted him as he stood behind the M2, stuck into the thick padding that someone had installed around the edge of the hatch and gun to help stabilize it. He gingerly picked at the wire and razors, pulling a few of them out of the padding and tossing them as far from the vehicle as he could.

  There was no ammunition loaded into the gun and Rick thought about figuring out how to load it himself but decided against it for the time being. Operating the gun would take some time to master and with the other weapons at his disposal he was hard-pressed to think of a situation that would require the fifty. Better to have it and not need it, though. The old saying flashed through Rick’s head and he groaned.

  A few minutes later, after retrieving a can of ammo from the back of the Humvee, Rick slid the can into the retaining arm attached to the gun. He fiddled with the gun until he figured out how to open the receiver cover, then placed the first few rounds from the belt into the receiver, wiggled them around until they set in place and then closed the cover with a slap. While he had no intention of firing it without hearing protection unless it was an emergency he at least had the gun loaded and—hopefully—nearly ready to fire.

  “Hm.” The thought of hearing protection reminded Rick that there was more to the supplies in the vehicle than just the guns and ammo. He slid back down into the back seat, locked the top hatch and began digging through the backpacks and bags between the rear seats and back storage section. Canteens and bottles full of water, MREs and packaged candies and snacks greeted him though there was no sign of any spare clothing, grooming supplies or anything else. His incarceration at Nellis had been accompanied by two cold showers and one washing of his clothes but he hadn’t felt clean since the last shower he took before leaving on his trip to Los Angeles.

  “At least I’ve got food for a few days. That’s a start.” Rick put a candy bar, an MRE and a bottle of water in the front passenger seat before sealing the bags back up and hopping out. He went around the vehicle once again to do a last check before taking off and noticed that what he had previously thought were just bumps on the sides were actually fuel cans. Ten gallons of diesel were strapped to each side of the vehicle, but not knowing how far it could get on a tank or how large of a tank the Humvee had made it impossible to know how far he could go.

  “Guess I’ll keep an eye on the gauge and play it by ear. I doubt I’ll get more than ten miles to the gallon, though.” Rick hopped back in the Humvee and shivered involuntarily as he closed the door. In the hour he had driven since leaving Las Vegas the temperature had dropped by several degrees and he was reminded that, despite the unusually warm weather he had experienced, it was still Autumn and things would be getting cold quite rapidly.

  Clothing, fuel, water and food were Rick’s new priorities. He wasn’t sure how he would procure them, but knowing what he needed made it easier to focus on the task at hand. He started up the growling engine and threw the Humvee into reverse, taking it slow over the grass as he wound his way back onto the road. Headed east again, Rick pushed all other thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on thinking of ways to secure his four needed items. If he wanted to get back home, survival was the only thing that he could be concerned with for the time being.

  Chapter 5

  Three days after the Event

  With Damocles uncontained and infecting systems across the globe, disastrous effects are felt everywhere. Communication between individuals—let alone countries—is nigh-on impossible. Branches of the military use older equipment without data connections to communicate via voice in an encrypted format, but every time they communicate over long distances they risk broadcasting to a system that is infected with Damocles. If this occurs, Damocles attempts to infiltrate their communication system and destroy it. While this is difficult for the weapon to do to older systems, newer systems that weren’t originally infected by the virus are prime targets.

  In China, those in rural areas suffer little to no ill effects. Their television, radio and internet capabilities go down in the first day, but any vehicles and other equipment they have is old enough that it can’t be affected by Damocles. In the cities and factories and ports, however, it is an entirely different story. Fires tear across the cities, started in the factories by industrial equipment that malfunction. Explosions rock the ports as dangerous chemicals are swept up in the blaze. Towering apartment buildings burn from the ground up, resulting in the deaths of untold numbers of people. Narrow streets that are already crowded at any given time of day are now filled with burning cars and the bodies of the dead.

  In London, a tanker filled with fuel and loaded with clothing, electronics and more foreign goods for import smashes through the port at full speed. The captain is flung across the bridge, having stayed on the ship through the end to try and find a way to bring it back under control. The ship begins spilling fuel onto the docks and wat
er surrounding them until a stray spark sets it alight.

  In Russia, the Red Square is dark as is the rest of the country. The power grid is the first to go down, removing one way for the people of the country to heat themselves. With the cold of winter pressing in they will have to find another way to find heat or they will die. Trains that crisscross the massive country are stuck on the tracks, their engines locked into place. Engineers work to remove them and replace them with older models without computer systems, but they will not be fast enough. Isolated cities and towns that depend on the trains for food and medicine succumb to panic and infighting within days.

  In Brazil, the loss of power and the destruction of an oil refinery near the capital city signals the breakdown of law and order. Riots break out across the country. The police and military organize to quell the rebellion but drug cartels add fuel to the flames, assisting with the decimation of the government and the killing of thousands of innocents. The new government sets up shop within days and quickly establishes a more brutal regime than the one before. It will be only a few weeks before rebellion is once again at the doorstep, if the populace at large manages to find a way to survive for that long.

  Chapter 6

  The Waters’ Homestead

  Outside Ellisville, VA

  The next morning, after breakfast, Dianne watched out the back window as a light dusting of fresh snow fell from the sky and settled on the trees and ground. The trees no longer had leaves—having shed them with all of the snow—and their spindly branches cast sharp shadows on each other in the early morning’s light.

  While she watched out the back window, thinking of nothing in particular, Dianne helped Josie stay upright while the little girl squeezed into a pair of snow pants that were nearly too small. Mark and Jacob were in the kitchen, playfully arguing over some sibling rivalry while they waited for Josie and Dianne to finish getting ready. When Josie was finally dressed Dianne grabbed a jacket and pair of thin work gloves and put them on before looping her rifle around her back. The gloves, while thin and offering little protection from the cold, would ensure that she could easily manipulate the rifle should the need arise.

  Once they were outside, Dianne sent Mark and Jacob down to the barns to bring back the snow shovels and feed the animals while she and Josie stayed on the front porch. After a few minutes of whining and wearing her mother down, Josie finally got Dianne to agree to help build yet another snowman.

  “He can guard the house!” Josie exclaimed, holding up a short branch that was roughly in the shape of a handgun. Dianne smiled and shook her head as she rolled up a large ball of snow for the base of the snowman.

  Fifteen minutes later, when the snowman was nearly done, Jacob and Mark came trudging back through the snow, dragging three snow shovels behind them. “Here you go, mom.” Mark held out a shovel before plopping down in the snow, remembering just in time to adjust the rifle on his back so that the barrel didn’t hit the ground.

  “Thanks, guys. Animals all doing okay?”

  “Everybody’s fine. They look pretty tired of being cooped up and there’s going to be a lot of poop to shovel out, but they’re okay.”

  “We can work on that tomorrow. I need to get the stalls rearranged anyway. For now let’s just see what we can do about this driveway.”

  After a few groans and gripes, Mark and Jacob got to work with helping Dianne clear out the snow in the driveway and parking area in front of the house. The work went relatively quickly and the trio moved on to clearing around the side and back of the house so that the truck would have a clear path to get back around front should they want to go out. Josie busied herself with decorating her snowman near the front porch while the three worked, staying content and quiet until Dianne heard her tumble and roll as she ran around the house.

  “Josie?” Dianne turned and helped Josie up to her feet. The little girl’s face was masked in fear and Dianne felt her heartbeat increase. “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “There’s a man in the driveway in the woods.”

  Dianne didn’t bother asking any questions. Turning to Jacob, she hissed orders at him in a quiet voice. “You and Josie get inside right now. Get upstairs, in your room with the door locked. Got it?”

  Jacob nodded, slightly afraid of the tone in his mother’s voice. He took his sister by the hand and they ran through the snow up onto the back porch and inside the house. While they were going inside Dianne started heading back up the slope around the house with Mark in tow. When they neared the front porch Dianne drew her rifle and whispered for Mark to stay back, ready to support her if needed.

  Staying close to the house, Dianne scanned the woods in front and to the side before looking over at the driveway. There, just as Josie described, was a man who was walking along the driveway toward the house.

  His clothing was dirty and covered in visible stains and he clutched his jacket to his chest, shivering in the cold. His walk through the foot-high snow was more like a shuffle and he stumbled every few steps, barely managing to keep from toppling over. His beard was long and thin, and the hair and skin around his mouth was tinted yellow. His face was gaunt, though he didn’t give the appearance of someone who was lacking in food. Overall he looked to be about sixty though that estimate was likely to be far from accurate given the condition of his skin and hair.

  “Hold it right there.” Dianne spoke loudly and firmly, keeping her rifle at the ready and aiming it just slightly down from the man. The man looked up at Dianne and she shivered involuntarily upon seeing his abnormally large pupils.

  “Hello!” The man waved vigorously, then scratched at his neck before tucking his arm back around his chest. He was still shuffling forward when Dianne raised her rifle and switched the safety off.

  “I said hold it!” She shouted at the man and he froze in place, swaying unsteadily as he eyed her.

  “Whoa, hang on a second!” The man’s arms were shaking as he pulled them away from his chest and raised them. His jacket was unzipped and Dianne could see the thin T-shirt he was wearing underneath. It, like the rest of his clothes, was stained as well, though she could make out distinct patterns of red on it.

  “What do you want?” Dianne growled at the man, watching his every movement carefully.

  “Hey I was just trying to find something to eat! Didn’t mean to start anything!”

  “We don’t have anything here.” Dianne motioned behind the man with the barrel of her rifle. “You’d best be moving along. There might be something to scrounge in town.”

  “Town?” The man laughed nervously and scratched at his neck again. “There’s nothing in town, lady. Town’s just a bunch of buildings with nobody in ‘em and nothing left for anyone!” The man’s voice was growing in volume and becoming more erratic as he spoke.

  Dianne cast a quick backwards glance, relieve to see Mark crouched by the side of the house with his rifle in hand. “Sorry to hear that. You need to get moving, though. We don’t have anything here.”

  The man cracked a wide smile as he pointed at the snowman near the front porch. “Looks like you’ve got time for diversions like that! Must have a nice bit of food around here, huh? Can’t you just spare a bite or three?”

  Dianne pressed the stock of the rifle against her shoulder and leveled the barrel. She leaned into the weapon, letting her cheek rest on it as she lined up the holographic sight square on the man’s chest and took one small but menacing step forward. “I won’t tell you again. Leave right now. Or you won’t live to regret it.”

  The man’s smile turned sour as his lips curled and wrinkled and his eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s your problem, lady? Can’t afford a guy a bit of food?” He started shuffling backwards down the driveway as Dianne took another step forward. “Fuck you, lady! I don’t need your charity!” The man tripped over himself as he tried to turn, sending up a cloud of powder into the air. He cursed and lashed out at the snow itself, grabbing fistfuls and sending them flying as he struggled to get back to h
is feet.

  Dianne continued advancing slowly on him, scanning the trees to her left and right as she went along all while counting on Mark to watch her back. The man jumped over the gate at the end of the drive and staggered down the road back towards town, alternately mumbling and screaming obscenities and gibberish at no one in particular. He seemed to forget that Dianne was even there, not bothering to look back at her as he went along on his way.

  Dianne stood at the gate, her rifle at the ready, watching the man until he was out of sight. When he was finally out of sight and earshot she turned back to the house and slowly walked back. She meandered to and fro across the driveway, looking in the woods for signs of footprints from someone other than the man she just ran off. Every few steps was accompanied by a quick glance backwards as she checked to make sure he was really gone.

  When she got back to the house Mark was sitting on the front porch glancing around. He stood up as she approached and gave her a questioning look. “Who was that guy and what was wrong with him?”

  Dianne shook her head and shrugged. “Beats me. Looks like he was on something.”

  “On something?”

  “Drugs, kiddo. He looked like he was withdrawing.” Dianne turned to look back down the driveway. “Someone like that’s dangerous.”

  “You didn’t shoot him, though.”

  Dianne shook her head. “I don’t want to kill anyone. Not if I can help it. Besides, by the time he got over the gate his mind was somewhere completely different. You go inside while I go check on the animals again. We’ll make an early dinner and trade keeping watch tonight.”

  “Okay.” Mark trotted inside while Dianne lingered, heading around the side of the house and down the slope to the barns. She could tell that Mark was put off by the strange man but she was trying to remain upbeat about the situation to keep him and his siblings from worrying unduly. While Dianne was doing an admirable job of projecting a cool exterior she felt completely nervous and more than a little bit frightened inside.