The Rotting Souls Series (Book 1): Charon's Blight [Day One]

by Ray, Timothy A.

  The other firefighters couldn’t believe their eyes and they hesitantly stepped towards their leader. Regaining his composure, the Captain holstered his firearm and wiped the tears from his face. “Stow that shit and back the fuck off them now!” he yelled, pointing at the downed paramedics.

  Years of training snapped through the fog that had enveloped them and they began to move; though, they avoided their Captain as they retreated from the lawn. Phones were being held by the locals and he knew that they were videoing everything that was happening. Horror had spread across all of their faces and he doubted they’d wait long before posting it online. No matter what, their Captain was in a world of shit, and he seemed to be the only one that realized what his friend had done and why.

  “Holy fuck,” he whispered aloud, still unable to move.

  “Hey, where do you guys think you’re going? We saw that shit; it was murder. Someone get that bastard!” A man garbed in flannel pajamas had stepped from the crowd and was pointing at them. The rest of his team turned and stood in front of their Captain, protecting him from the sight of the onlookers looking to rush them. They weren’t sure what the hell was going on but they weren’t about to give over one of their own to a mob.

  His Captain pushed his way to the front of his men, but whatever he was about to say was lost by another scream from the rear of the crowd. A few houses down there was a man on the ground getting attacked by a deranged woman in curlers and a face of fury not unlike that of the flaming woman that had just rushed them.

  That settled it for Mark; he had to get the hell out of here. His wife had to have gotten the message and was probably on her way to the station at that very moment. His family needed him and he had to get them as far away from this shit as he could. Axe in hand, he walked with swift purpose towards the rig and climbed into the driver seat. His Captain was already climbing in the passenger side and the others were loading up behind him. He hit the gas and raced for the station, barely missing a cop car flying his way.

  Chapter 5

  Broken Bodies

  Rosilynn

  Las Vegas, NV

  It was either great fortune or some sadistic sense of destiny that found the two of them in bed together when their phones went off simultaneously. They were in the heat of the moment and neither one of them wanted to stop and check them.

  Rosilynn was of average height, with long straight brown hair, which was bouncing softly against her back as she worked herself through another intense orgasm. Matt’s hands were on her hips and she brought one of them up past her bouncing breast to her face, hugging it to her; letting his fingers stroke her cheek. Her thin curves twisted backward as his hand slid along her throat and she threw her head back and groaned. Her brown eyes glowed with the ecstasy of the moment and the sweat covering her body cooled under the air-conditioning.

  The white sheets were thrown back and as she fell upon him, her long legs stroked his strong muscular form. She curled against him, listening to the thundering of his heart, unwilling to let themselves draw part just yet.

  He had a square jaw, light brown hair, and was clean shaven. He was six-foot-three and his feet were barely able to keep from dangling off the end of the bed. He had a pleased smile on his face and his green eyes were dreamy. She ran a hand over his abs and his smile grew even larger. Slipping free, she slid to his side, her hand reaching lower along his stomach to his manhood below.

  “You can’t be wanting to go again so soon,” he murmured, his usual brisk voice almost purring. His left hand was stroking her hair, his breathing labored but starting to slow.

  She let her hand continue on, an amused smile on her face. “Not at all, just enjoying what’s mine,” she whispered in his ear, biting him softly on the lobe.

  Both phones went off again, his vibrating and hers making an annoying chiming sound. “That’s odd that they’re both going off at the same time, it can’t be my work,” she told him, her brow drawing together. She was a nurse at a nearby hospital and was off today. She had just pulled an all-nighter and had intended to spend most of the day in bed.

  Her husband worked for one of the casinos in security and he had somehow managed to wrangle the day off as well; it had been perfect. Her hand fumbled for her phone and she brought it to her hip, letting it rest there for a moment.

  “Don’t check it,” Matt whispered to her. “Whoever it is can wait.” He was starting to stiffen in her right hand and his eyes were starting to become hungry once more. He reached over to push a lock of hair from over her eyes but she had already brought the phone up to see what was going on.

  Her world shattered.

  Sitting there with that glowing screen and its message glaring at her, time stopped. Her heart hammered out the seconds, but her mind had simply shutdown; unable to comprehend if she was really seeing it or if reality had finally slipped away and she was in some kind of sadistic nightmare.

  “Rosilynn, what is it?” her husband asked, his face growing concerned at the sight of her face.

  “Check your phone,” she managed, her mind trying to race and keep up with what she was seeing. There were things she had to start doing, yet she was paralyzed where she was. The passion in her was gone with those three little words; words that destroyed her life forever.

  Ben: It’s a wipe.

  As he turned over to his night table, her body began to move on its own. She crawled out of the bed and went to the bathroom. As the door closed, she could hear Matt’s curses following after her. He was rummaging through their closet by the sounds that resonated across the tiles and as she reached for the toilet paper, she ran through a list of things they would need to do before leaving. She flushed, then strode from the bathroom to find her black suit lying on the crumpled white sheets of her bed.

  She sat down, fingered the texture of the suit, and then went about sliding it on. “How much time do you think we have?”

  “I know as much as you do,” Matt responded, working quickly to gather their things. He strode from the room in his boxers and she heard the television fire up in the living room. She knew that he was gathering some food to take with them and her hand found the remote on her nightstand; flipping the power on. As it came to life, she worked on putting her arms through her suit and zipping up the front. The pads were thrown on the bed and she began fastening them as the program that was on suddenly cut off. She was told that they were sorry, that Guiding Light was being interrupted. There was a news update for the city of Las Vegas.

  A breaking news screen flashed before her and she fought to keep moving as the video cut to a newscaster at a studio. There was no introduction, no graphics, just a scared older man with a piece of paper in front of him.

  What the hell had she missed?

  “Good morning. As of this morning the city of Las Vegas is in a heightened state of alert. Homeland Security has changed the current alert status to Severe. We are being told that an attack on the United States of America is imminent. DHS has been unreachable for comment and—,” he paused in his broadcast as someone handed him another paper.

  He took a moment to read it, but looked incredulous and confused. Before thinking about what he was saying, he began reading the copy live. “You are ordered in the name of the United States Government and the President of the United States to cease broadcasting and return to your scheduled programming. Further instructions will follow. What the hell is this?” he asked the man that had handed it to him.

  There was someone talking off camera but the newscaster wasn’t listening to them. “They have no right—,” he said, trying to make sense of the paper in front of him. He held a hand to his ear, then stared straight into the camera. “We are receiving reports that a biological weapon has been released by terrorist on Las Vegas Boulevard. For that report, we go to Angela,” he said, but the video did not switch, it stayed trained on the news anchor who looked anxious to hear from their reporter as much as the viewers. “Angela?”

  Someone was talking
off screen, then you could hear a large bang and a rush of feet. Just before the screen went black she thought she heard the sound of gunfire.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, fastening the last of the pads over her suit. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  Matt rushed back into the room, his own suit on and ready to go. He headed for the closet and their gun safe. “Did you see?” he asked needlessly; he’d had to have seen the Stand By logo on the screen when he had come into their room.

  “A terrorist attack?” she asked, stunned at the news. How do these things keep happening? Las Vegas Boulevard? That wasn’t too far away from where they were now.

  Going towards the closet, she took the holster he handed her and she began strapping it on. He tossed her a respirator just as she got both arms through her loaded Bug Out Bag. The rifle came next. Slinging that over her shoulder, she turned to the headboard of their bed and took the Japanese sword from its stand. She held the Katana tightly as she moved towards their bedroom door, not bothering to strap the sheath around her waist. They’d be in the car within the next minute or so and she’d just have to take it back off in order to get in.

  Ben: Las Vegas is ground zero GTFO

  Ben: Auth: 4HorseMenAE

  Ben: GRIMES

  “Wait, what?” she asked, standing there ready to go, sword in hand, and the phone held up in disbelief. “I thought this was a bio-weapon.” There was no question this shit was real. If the newscast wasn’t proof enough, that authentication code would only be sent out if it was verified and unstoppable.

  Matt was moving through the door in the direction of the garage. “We have to trust that Ben knows what he’s talking about,” her husband replied, motioning for her to get in the passenger side.

  “Why are you driving?” she asked out of reflex.

  “Seriously?” Matt asked, hopping in the car and removing himself from the debate.

  She jumped in beside him and the garage door would not lift fast enough. She looked at their empty backseat and remembered how much it had bothered her that they hadn’t been able to conceive yet. The fertility doctor said Matt’s sperm count was low, but that didn’t keep them from trying. It was one reason she wanted to spend the day in bed; it was a perfect time in her cycle.

  Maybe it was just as well.

  It would be easier to move with it just being the two of them; less to protect. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be if Todd and his family were here instead. Shit, she hoped they were getting out of Tucson all right. She thought of breaking protocol and calling them. Maybe she’d chance it after they were further along.

  All along the block other people were rushing to get into their cars; hastily packed supplies tumbling from their hands as they raced to get out of Vegas.

  The news was out.

  As he was pulling out, a white Bronco roared by, nearly clipping their back bumper. It missed them, but it nailed their neighbor Karen. It threw her back onto her car like she was a pillow tossed on a bed. She impacted the rear window; shattering it with her crumpled body.

  “Karen!” she yelled, reaching to open the door.

  Matt reached over and stayed her arm. “We don’t have time,” he told her firmly.

  “How can you say that? It’s Karen! We’ve known her for years!” she responded, struggling to free herself. Her eyes stared at her broken friend, then her blood chilled and her heart stopped.

  The woman’s body was jerking in violent thrusts; her eyes and mouth changing from pain to fury. Her hands reached out and gripped the car she was lying on, then pushed herself up. Her back must have been broken, because her legs hung there limply and did not support her weight, as she dove off the back of the car; falling with a crunch on the asphalt below. Her face lifted and her eyes were wide.

  They found hers and Rosilynn felt a scream rip out of her.

  Those were not the eyes of the woman she had known. Furiously the woman began to claw her way towards them. The nails on her fingers snapped as they dug into the unyielding asphalt. Matt backed up, making sure to turn in that direction and cutting off her view. The car bucked and she let out another quick yelp; unable to help herself.

  He had purposely run their neighbor over.

  “Still think Ben’s wrong?” Matt asked, sounding entirely too smug. She loved the man, but sometimes she wanted to sock him in the jaw.

  She turned her head to look behind them as they pulled away. Even though the entire left half of her fallen neighbor had been crushed by their car, the right was still intact. Karen’s head swiveled at an unnatural angle; following their retreat. Her right arm shot out to drag the crushed body forward a couple of inches. The part of her body that had been mashed into the asphalt tore free and was left behind. Freed, the half body pulled forward faster, defying all laws of nature.

  Her mind logged every detail; promising to play it back to her at any moment it chose. Her stomach was turning and she felt the vomit begin to rise. Fighting it back down, she put on her seatbelt; her eyes darting along the landscape to find the next source of danger.

  They were approaching a light when she heard an ambulance behind them. Matt pulled to the side to let it past but it wasn’t enough; the emergency vehicle struck the corner of their bumper in its passing. The force of the impact drove them over the sidewalk and her husband cursed as he tried to bring the car to a stop.

  “Damn it!” he growled, the steering wheel jerking free of his hands. Someone else had hit them as well, driving them into another car. She braced herself as her head nearly slammed into the dash.

  Looking up through the cracked windshield she watched in horror as the fleeing ambulance entered the intersection and got plowed by a semi that came roaring from their right. There was the sound of crunching metal and the ambulance was thrown clear of the intersection and into the cars of the oncoming traffic.

  The semi did not slow despite the damage it had suffered, and the multiple wheels along the back bounced over the broken metal and spewing gas. It veered into a Honda Civic on its left. For the briefest of moments, she could see the stunned look of an elderly lady as she threw her hands up to brace herself. Thankfully, it was over quickly. The semi tore the car apart before bouncing violently, then falling to its side.

  Shaken, she noticed that their car had stalled.

  “Ros, we need to get out of here!” her husband yelled, grabbing their gear and his weapons.

  Trained to act in a crisis, she instantly jumped out and did the same. Grabbing her sword, she strapped it to her left hip and made sure the knot was tight. There was mass panic in the street and even though she had been trained to notice every detail, the erupted world around her was too much for her mind to process. A broken body here, a dying woman there, gas spewing in fountains, the power lines sparking loosely on the ground. Her eyes couldn’t follow how many people were already dead or dying; nor how many people were rushing to leave them like that.

  It horrified her.

  Ben: incoming from the north

  As much as she appreciated his input, she had picked up on the increased volume of screams coming from the chaos before them. The strip was to the east of them, which meant they needed to get south to the 215 and try to loop around it. The casinos were the absolute last place she wanted to be right now.

  Matt was standing there with his gun drawn; watching their rear. She turned to look at the scene of the collision and was confronted with a large mass of bodies pushing their way. People had stopped fleeing in that direction and were turning to run back at them in their panic.

  She felt it in the air, this was about to get real ugly.

  The elderly woman she had seen in that car had somehow crawled through her shattered windshield, half her face torn away, white hair smeared with blood. The lower half of her body had been left behind and her insides drug across the hood as she clawed her way forth. Perched on the edge of the crumpled vehicle, she snagged someone that had rushed too close and tore at him with her
clawed hands. Her mouth was trying to gnaw at him but her broken dentures must have been left behind because she was not breaking skin. Her nails were more than enough though, as they tore the flesh from his bone, making blood spray out of his neck in some fake horror movie display.

  Granny Zombie unnerved her more than the mashed body of her neighbor had. Her fear fought to break free and she purposely turned her back on the disgusting display, looking to her husband instead. Luckily for him, he had missed the grisly act of violence.

  “Ros, we need to get out of here,” he repeated harshly. His eyes were focused elsewhere and she turned to follow his gaze. The gasoline was flowing towards one of the loose power cables.

  Adrenaline began to energize her body, waking her fully, making her pitch forward and run in the opposite direction. She trusted that her husband was by her side and did not waste any time to look. She pumped her legs harder, trying desperately to gain speed in this heavy gear she wore. She wouldn’t last long, despite her conditioning, going full out like this.

  The explosion made her ears ring and the concussion threw her from her feet. She landed on the pavement, her suit absorbing some of the impact. Her head smashed into the concrete sidewalk and stars filled her vision. Her respirator had been knocked askew, the mask covered in soot; too damaged to be of any further use. Her arm felt numb and she prayed she hadn’t broken it. Something was wrong with her leg, there was pressure where there shouldn’t be; maybe Matt fell on her?

  “Matt,” she groaned, trying to twist, but unable to move the lower half of her body. The pressure came again, only not in the same spot. Blackness was threatening to overtake her and she was about ready to just give into it. “Matt,” she moaned again but got no response.

  She tried to shake herself free, believing him to be unconscious on top of her, when she felt the pressure of nails digging at her suit. They were trying to scrape their way through the tight rubber and were failing for the moment. The suit was designed to be resistant to just that sort of attack. The pressure she had been feeling must have come from teeth because something continued to apply pressure further up her leg. She tried to scream but her voice had left her. The nails intensified, working their way up her body. Her vision darkened and she passed into the welcoming void.