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

by Ray, Timothy A.

  “Hey buddy,” he chimed in, his voice losing the humor he had been nursing.

  “All right, all right,” Paul said, “just trying to lighten the mood a bit. Things are getting a bit heavy.”

  “He’s not as paranoid as you make him sound,” replied Matt.

  That stopped Todd in the middle of replying to Paul. “Wait, what?”

  Matt and Ros were the only part of the group that he and his wife had met over the last couple of years. They lived in Vegas, which was just seven hours away, and had met up with them a few times for drinks at the casinos. The first time it had been innocent. The others? Well, you only live once right?

  From time to time he dreamt of those nights and would occasionally push for them to take another trip up north. They were good people. Ros was a nurse and wasn’t online because she had been called into work. They had filled her spot with another member of the guild that happened to be online waiting for a dungeon queue, so it had all worked out in the end.

  “I’m ex-military and I know for a fact that they are creating some freaky shit out there,” Matt continued, cutting off Casey’s mic as it lit up.

  “Like what?” Ben asked. He had been the guildie that filled in for Ros and just happened to be Rodger’s son.

  Matt’s voice came over his speakers once more, filling his house as his mic increased in volume. He had to quickly turn it down. “If I told you that, I wouldn’t have to kill you, someone would do it for me. Then they’d come for me.” There was a pause, then he laughed.

  The mic cut off and vent was silent for a moment.

  “I’m not being paranoid,” Casey finally managed. This time it sounded like he had inhaled something before queuing because his voice was coming out in a familiar rush.

  It made Joe laugh in chat and he smiled.

  “There’s a lot of nasty shit in the world. If you don’t control it, it controls you. We’d never let someone else create it first, we always have to lead the pack. The military applications alone would get them to pour money into the research for it. To reanimate slain soldiers, or to cause an outbreak in another country? They could just sit back and let the zombies do all the work for us! They have to be brainstorming and testing that shit somewhere. There is nothing we can do to survive something like that. No fucking way. If it got out, we’d be fucked,” Casey finished, the sound of a bag of chips echoing across the speakers.

  “So, what? You think we should just go hide in a bunker in Bumfuckegypt and wait for something to happen?” his wife asked jokingly.

  “Hell no,” Casey responded quickly. “But would it really hurt to have a plan?”

  Chapter 8

  Pit Stop

  Todd

  Outside Benson, AZ

  He stood there stroking his goatee, eyes on the gas station before him, reflecting on that conversation four years ago.

  No one in their group had taken Casey seriously that night, who would? Government scientists secluded in some remote part of the country cooking up superbugs, which then got out and killed the whole world? It was straight out of a Stephen King novel. He loved reading the Stand, but he had always felt that it had lacked a certain touch of realism; beyond the whole Mother Abigail/Flagg thing.

  The military was largely ineffective and did little but police the infection. He knew that if it really did happen, the military would play a much larger role then had been portrayed in the media. But then, you craft a story around the characters, trying to put them in harm’s way, but always leaving them a way out. Hard to do if you had multiple nukes going off.

  That would be a shorter story and wouldn’t sell well.

  A year after that fateful night on vent there had been a terrorist attack at a football game in Boston. The world had changed once more. They were no longer discussing zombies, as the climate of fear brought on my terrorism rose to new heights. They realized how naïve they had been about their place in the world and the safety of their families. Once more the government cracked down, taking more of their rights away. They spied on their own people in the name of national security.

  Casey’s rants no longer seemed paranoid. They eventually came to the conclusion that maybe he was right; they needed to have a plan if they were going to survive.

  Right now, they were pulled over at a rest stop on the other side of Benson; twenty minutes outside Wilcox. None of them had used the bathroom before leaving home and it would be their last stop for a while. After this, the only available restrooms would be in the towns they would pass through and he wanted to stay on the outskirts of those the best he could.

  He had swept the area with his wife and then gone into the bathroom to change. His work clothes were packed away in the van now and he wore the same tight rubber suit that the rest of his family had on. It kept wedging itself between his ass cheeks despite his attempts to pull it back out. It clung to him so tightly that he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He had just finished strapping on the protective pads and the extra layer of clothing was causing his body heat to rise. He had three pads on each arm and leg, and wore a heavy bulletproof vest strapped to his chest.

  He hadn’t taken into consideration how hot it would feel to be wearing all this gear when he helped design it. It had been tailored to protect them, not to be comfortable in. His crotch was sweating; making his inner thighs chafe. He was also wearing shorts over the body suit. Without them he’d have no pockets to stow any of the essentials they’d need if they had to make a run for it. He had to keep ammo somewhere.

  Sweat ran down his neck and his hand wiped at it absently-mindedly. It was September, so this was not one-hundred and ten-degree weather, but ninety was still enough to make him feel like a turkey in an oven. Still, he didn’t want to take a chance with his safety, or that of his family’s. He’d just keep the air conditioning on high the rest of the trip. A little sweat was worth it if it got them where they were going.

  “I’m glad you guys got on the road,” he told Sam as she walked back from the bathroom with one of her daughters in tow. She had four kids as well, and her maroon Dodge mini-van was parked at the pump behind him; kids jumping in and out of the cargo door like they were hyped up on caffeine.

  She came over and gave him a hug, then a quick kiss on the cheek. “Me too. I hope that you’re right about this, if not, Ruben is going to be pissed.”

  “Where is that asshole anyway?” he asked curiously, taking a cigarette from his pack while moving around to the front of his van. “Is he following behind?”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t believe me, thinks I’m just making up an excuse to run away with you for the weekend. He’s at his girlfriend’s house and plans on staying there. I tried to talk him out of it, but he probably turned his phone off.”

  He had never liked the man anyways. Even though they were all in a poly relationship, he was one of those that felt that he should get to play around while the woman only attended to him. He treated his wife like it was the 1930’s, expecting dinner on the table and everyone to sit and watch whatever he wanted too afterwards, like Leave it to Beaver.

  “We can’t afford to go back and change his mind,” he returned, lighting his cigarette. “We barely even have time enough for this. The phone shows this shit is spreading fast.”

  Sam slowly nodded, frowning as she looked at her van behind them. “I know that. You don’t have to tell me. The kids though, they won’t understand.”

  Her daughter Tammy was sitting in the passenger seat of the van, and it looked like she was trying to scold Zeke, who was standing on the side panel of the vehicle, bouncing it up and down. He couldn’t see Alan or Bea, but he knew that they were probably in the very backseat, glued to their tablets.

  “I’m just glad you’re here. Thank you for believing in me,” he answered, put an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, giving her a warm embrace. “If you need anything, anything at all, you should probably get it now. I know you love your Doritos, so best go grab what you can.”


  She laughed and shook her head, “I’ll be fine. The last thing I can think of right now is food.”

  Right?

  He pulled his cell out and grumbled at the bars he got while in Texas Canyon. The mountain road was lined with large boulders that were greater in size than the semis passing between them. The whole mountain was nothing but large rocks, making him think of a movie he had seen as a kid. It had large monster made of rocks, he could see it clearly, but couldn’t think of what the damn movie was. It had a long white dog covered in fur— “What the hell was the name of that movie?” he asked; drawing a couple of stares from the children behind him.

  “What movie?” Sam asked, trying to be helpful.

  He sighed. “Probably doesn’t matter. We’ll never see it again anyways.” He saw the downcast movement of her eyes and recognized the despair that had been in his voice. “Had a long white dog in it and a man made of rocks?”

  “Neverending Story!” Skye squealed from the back of the van.

  “Huh,” he said shaking his head. Imagine that, his youngest knew instantly what he was referring too. They had those old movies on DVD now and he didn’t realize she had watched them. He had them for nostalgic reasons, and hadn’t seen them himself in a very long time.

  The two younger children kept on talking, but he didn’t hear them. He was gripping his phone tight enough to leave impressions on his palms. He hated being out of touch at a moment like this.

  He had texted his parents and sister but they hadn’t responded yet. He had also tried calling them but kept getting voicemails. Surprisingly, he had gotten a text back from Naima. As he expected, she wasn’t taking him seriously. He was doing a horrible job convincing her that she needed to get as far away from Phoenix as possible. Queen Creek may seem far from the city center, seemingly isolated, but it wasn’t enough. There had been an updated image from Ben fifteen minutes before and a small dot had appeared in Flagstaff. It was spreading to Arizona and they were running out of time.

  Todd: I’m not fucking around, get moving now

  Naima: I need to put my daughter down, then I’m taking a nap

  Todd: I’m not making this up. Get Mike and your daughter in your car and meet me east of Safford. This is real. Please. Get out now.

  Naima: lol funny prank on Naima day is it? GTG daughter calling. TTYL

  Frustrated, he tried to think of something to say back. He dialed her number but it went straight to voicemail. “Fuck,” he cursed and ended the call; not bothering to leave a message.

  “Is she still ignoring you?” Sam asked, watching as Monica started approaching from the restrooms.

  “Worse, she doesn’t believe me,” he groaned, trying to call again, getting the same result.

  Only one person was listening to him and their friendship had been a recent development. He called her Saint, a nickname he and his smoking buddies had come up with after a night of her lecturing about right and wrong; swearing she had never done anything unorthodox. Her real name was Sabrina and it still boggled his mind that someone with a body as hot as hers could be so innocent. He had talked to her a lot when he had been stuck on overnights and they had bonded on their cigarette breaks. The smoking crowd was small, as there were fewer smokers these days. everyone worried over every little thing they put in their body.

  He chuckled softly and ignored Caleb’s questioning look. Well, they’d be a healthier food choice for the zombies as well. Might as well keep on smoking.

  He lit a cigarette and checked his messages. Sabrina was on her way but was stuck in traffic. She was just now leaving and that would put her at least an hour behind them. He remembered getting ribbed from the wife about their sudden friendship but nothing was going on, no matter how many times his wife asked.

  He could almost hear her retort, “just how many women do you need?”

  Sabrina respected the sanctity of marriage so much that if she caught him looking at any other woman she’d hit him. And she didn’t pull her punches. It was just another reason he always called her Saint. If there had been flirting between them it would have been harmless.

  His thumbs fingered the two rings he wore, and he smiled at the women who were chit-chatting in front of him. Between them and Ros, he had more than enough to keep him busy the rest of his life. He seriously didn’t need anyone else.

  Every guy that knew of their lifestyle had talked about how great it must be, he didn’t have the heart to tell him that they should try to keep three women happy and see how great it actually was. Managing one marriage was a challenge, but two? And scheduling—he didn’t even want to think on that.

  Since Sabrina was stopped at a red light, she was typing a mile a minute, and he knew from her frantic questions that she knew no more than he did. He was using a phone on a dedicated network and he had hoped that since she was using one of the traditional carriers, that she might have heard news that hadn’t spread to his own just yet. But there had been no updates from her cellphone provider and the news websites were surprisingly quiet.

  Even the ESPN website had stopped updating their box scores.

  It was surprising, because whenever there was a storm warning or a kid missing, the phones would send out an alert, waking him up at all hours of the night. So far, nothing had come through. Ben wasn’t sending her updates as she wasn’t a registered member of their group. These phones were top of the line with their own dedicated satellite network. They were firewalled by Ben, their resident hacker, and sent constant GPS updates so the young boy could keep track of them. He had wondered how much he had been sacrificing, privacy wise, when they got them.

  Whatever it was, it was about to pay off.

  “Any luck?” Nick asked from behind him. His son was leaning out the opened cargo door and peering at them with concern. He was the closest to the grandparents and he knew that Nick had been obsessively trying to reach them on his cell. Caleb and Skye were also preoccupied with theirs phones and the three of them looked funny frantically tapping like that; they were almost in sync. They were as perturbed as he was at being out of touch.

  He sighed heavily, “nothing so far.” His eyes kept roaming the countryside, constantly checking to make sure there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary coming their way. They had swept the surrounding area before using the bathroom, but had they been thorough enough? Was it just a waste of time? The map said Flagstaff. Surely, they were still okay. He felt confident that no one could approach without his seeing it from up on this hill; but that didn’t mean that they could take their time. They needed to hurry.

  “Maybe they’re at work,” Nick offered.

  “Your grandmother is probably sleeping, she stays up late. Your grandfather is hopefully at work and can’t hear his phone. Don’t start panicking when we don’t really know what’s going on. They are fine. See?” he asked his son as he pointed at the new update on their map. “It’s still in Flagstaff. Hasn’t gone anywhere near Phoenix yet. By the way, Naima thinks I’m joking around,” he said in a pissy voice, eyes on the gas station beyond. The Coke machine caught his eye and he suddenly wondered if it was the last time he’d ever see one.

  Nick grumbled something inaudible and disappeared from view, the mini-van rocking behind him. From within, he heard Caleb remark that he had tried calling Monica’s mother, but that it was no longer going to voicemail.

  That’s odd, he thought. He had never known her cell to just ring off the hook. He dialed his mother’s once more and got the “all circuits were busy” response from the operator.

  What the hell?

  He opened the app on his phone again to double check the map, but so far nothing had changed south of Flagstaff. Everything appeared to be all right back in Tucson, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something they weren’t picking up on. They could double back, but it was forty minutes to his mother’s house now; that ship had sailed when he had passed their exit on their way out of town.

  “Sam, try Ruben again.” Sam glan
ced at him curiously, then lifted her phone. She was middle-aged, and the crow’s feet around her eye’s deepened as she squinted at her screen. She constantly dyed her hair, the long purple strands kept falling in her face, her free hand having to keep pushing it back. She was average in size, with a large chest and round hips. She was wearing a Star Wars shirt with the Empire symbol on the front, a blue flannel, and black jeans. It was her customary dress and he cursed himself for not getting her a suit made when he’d last been at the compounds, she looked naked compared to the rest of them.

  Not waiting to hear if she was able to get through to her husband, he walked to the driver side and opened the door; climbing in. The three kids in the back were continuing to make phone calls, but he could tell that none of them were successful by their furrowed brows and frantic tapping.

  He turned on the radio and got static.

  That shouldn’t be happening yet; they weren’t out of range of the Tucson stations. KIIM always came through until they got into Wilcox. Then it’d fade and they’d start to pick up 99.1 out of Safford. He hit the preset button and turned it to KRQ.

  Static.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” Caleb asked, but he ignored it.

  He hit the search button and watched the tuner go to work. It flew through all the stations twice before he stopped it. There was nothing broadcasting out there. Even the AM stations were gone. He brought his phone up and opened the browser. He knew that he should be getting internet service but nothing was loading. He heard his daughter growing annoyed and felt the dread deepen further.

  The feeling of being cutoff was feeding his fear.

  He couldn’t monitor the news coverage, and without that knowledge, how could he accurately steer his family to safety? Had it already begun? Was it too late? His kids had grown up in an age where everyone was connected all the time. They didn’t know what life was like without their cellphones or internet browsers.