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

by Ray, Timothy A.

  Each of them had bags to carry and she shifted hers from one hand to the other as her fingers began to hurt with the strain. The area they were passing through was owned by the Tohono O’odham tribe and there were no lights evident to the east or west of them. There was no obvious place to hide if the shit hit the fan.

  They could brave the oncoming darkness in an attempt to blindly traverse the desert; but she was not a fan of that option. With their luck, the shadows would come to life and reveal the final moments of their short lives. The only choice that made any sense was to keep going forward; as going back was something none of them was willing to do.

  “I have guns at my place,” Jesus told them again, trying to bribe them to ensure he got home.

  “We know. Would you relax? We’re going to get you home,” she told him, but didn’t add that then she would push on without him. He was a nice enough guy, but during the fight at the store, he had shown that he was not made for this new world born of teeth and blood. He wouldn’t last long. She couldn’t afford to be responsible for him or his family if she was going to have any hope of surviving this unholy apocalypse.

  Though, she might ask Randall to come along. He had shown the will to live and might be an asset when things got rough. But she was having serious thoughts of leaving Jeff behind.

  The attraction that she had felt had been purely physical and after all the shit that gone down throughout the day, it had slowly been replaced with disgust. The emotional connection hadn’t grown between them and she had fooled herself into thinking there ever would be. He wanted what he wanted; regardless of the reservations of others. That kind of selfishness did not jive with the kind of person she was. She knew in her heart that when push came to shove, he would leave her if he had a chance of making it on his own. It was not a desirable trait to have around; she would never be able to trust him.

  She sent a prayer skyward to guide them in what came next and prayed that someone was listening. She had never been a religious person, had never gone to church or even read the bible, but with the dead rising it seemed like a good time to start. She hoped her prayers wouldn’t go unheard. They would need as much help as they could muster if they were going to live through this.

  The sun set on the horizon and they plunged forward into the oncoming darkness and the chaos of the new world beyond.

  Chapter 20

  Pissin’ Bullets

  Casey

  Alpine, AZ

  No matter how many times Ben told him that his road was clear, he couldn’t help the jitter of his nerves as he passed that turn off heading north towards Albuquerque. His breathing had been ragged; his lungs needed something to soothe them. The cigarette he had lit burnt its way to the filter unsmoked, forgotten. His eyes remained fixed on the road, seeking any sign of trouble, ready to react the moment something out of the ordinary popped into view.

  Ben couldn’t be right all the time.

  To his surprise, the intersection had been clear and his heart began to beat again as he pushed forward on the final leg of his journey.

  He had kept his phone in his right hand, eyes dropping constantly to check for updates. Although Albuquerque remained clear, he had Roswell on the mind and how safe it seemed until that first shot rang out. He knew that he had gotten through minutes ahead of certain death and he was still shaken up over the experience. A small city was a few miles down the road and it would be the last, as he turned south on US 191.

  Then it was a short hop and a skip to the compounds and the safety they’d provide.

  As he stood on the side of the road relieving himself, he couldn’t help but take in the cooler mountain air and listen to the world around him. It was eerily quiet; an alien feeling for a city dweller. Thought it should’ve calmed it, it made him uneasy. Things could easily sneak up on you if you kept your head turned away long enough, and he was getting dizzy from constantly having to check his six.

  Zipping up, he went to the passenger door, got out his bong, and loaded it. He took a long drag, letting the fumes fill his lungs, and blowing it out slowly; the calming effect spreading throughout his body, settling him. After a few minutes, he set it on the seat and went back around to the driver’s side. He took one last look at the silent world of northern Arizona, then hopped back into his car to continue on his journey to his new home.

  He felt groovy now; he was close to being done and out of this.

  His eyes were on the road and he was just getting back up to speed when his rear window shattered. He felt the rush of air on his face and his rear-view mirror exploded, sending glass shards in multiple directions. Blood began to trickle down his cheek.

  “What the fuck?” he exclaimed, twisting the wheel. The car swerved, almost going off the side of the road and into the grass clearing beyond. Jerking it to the left, he barely kept control of the car as the rear tires bounced on the lip of asphalt.

  He straightened out and punched it. He slipped the wheel left just as another gunshot tore into the seat next to him. If he hadn’t swerved, it would have taken him in the back. “What the fuck is this shit?” he screamed, unable to comprehend what was going on. He was not a fucking zombie! Who the hell was trying to kill him? He chanced a glance to the rear and didn’t see shit. Someone was trying to snipe his ass. “Goddammit, move!” he yelled at his car.

  No matter what the speedometer said, he knew that it still wasn’t fast enough.

  His right hand was cut and blood was gushing forth. There was a jagged green shard erupting from the palm of his hand and his anger began to rise; it was the color of his bong. “Oh, you motherfucker!” he cried, trying to keep his hand to his chest as he jerked the wheel left again. He was tempted to pull over and find this asshole, but his foot would not come off the gas pedal. Apparently, his body was smarter than his mind.

  Cursing, he brought his hand to his mouth and gently pulled at the shard in his hand. Driving one handed, he winced at the pain as it slowly slid free, blood spraying his face. “Fuck that hurts,” he grunted, quickly pressing his hand against his leg, trying to staunch the flow of his lifeblood fleeing his body. Trying to put some distance on the shooter, he sped along the highway, not daring to drive in a straight line. For all he knew, there was a car back there racing to catch up with him.

  Well, if he found a spot where he could ambush that motherfucker, he’d take it. No one broke his shit without getting an ass beating in return. There was a slight rustle of metal and he realized that the nut job had just missed. He broke out in laughter. It was a horrible moment for it, but he couldn’t help it. He realized that he must have just gotten out of the sniper’s range. And the asshole wasn’t mobile yet.

  “Thank Christ,” he muttered, still clutching his hand tightly on his pant leg. He had no clue what he had done to earn this shit and continued to pray that he wouldn’t find out. The car suddenly lurched. “What the hell?” he groaned.

  He glanced at his gas gauge and saw that it was quickly sliding towards empty. He had half a tank left the last time he checked and took a quick look in his side mirror. He was horrified to see that the last shot hadn’t been a miss after all. The gas tank had been ruptured and was spraying fuel everywhere. Shit, he was going to run out of gas and be stranded with some maniac hunting him from behind.

  He was not a fucking deer, goddammit!

  The engine sputtered and the car began to coast as he ran out of gas. He was screwed.

  Hastily he picked up his phone and grabbed his gear. He turned it on and hit send; hoping like mad that Ben would pick up and somehow get him out of this shit. Fear driving him, he slung his pack over his shoulder, took one last look at his shattered bong, grabbed his stash, and slammed the car door.

  He thought he could hear an engine in the distance, but he was still unable to see anything to indicate where it was coming from. Gripping his rifle, he made a quick decision, hunt or flee? His mouth firmly set, he set off for the trees with the phone glued to his ear. He feared that after al
l the crap he had been through so far, he was going to die in some hick town in Arizona.

  What the hell was going on?

  He reached the trees just as the phone picked up. “Ben, you’ve got to come get me right fucking now!” he nearly screamed, disappearing into the forest. He ran blindly south, with only a slim hope of rescue and the growing certainty that the reaper was closing in to try to drag his ass to hell.

  Well, not today, he swore and kept moving as quickly as his legs were able.

  Chapter 21

  Friend in need

  Todd

  Compound 2

  The intercom on the kitchen wall beeped at him.

  It felt a bit Trekish, and he had an urge to hit his chest at some imaginary badge. He’d never get used to that thing. He took another glance at his empty fridge and wondered if he shouldn’t have the kids get to filling it.

  He closed it, walked over to the wall, and pushed the red transmit button. Monica was on the couch, alternating between checking her text messages and trying to read. She looked up at him, but he shrugged; he knew as much as she did. “Yeah?”

  Rodger’s voice crackled over the speaker system. “Casey’s in trouble, he needs a pickup.”

  He rolled his eyes briefly, not used to this life and death crap yet. Then he realized he had to put that suit back on and he grunted. “Of course, he does. Be on my way in a minute,” he responded. Monica was suddenly on her feet, following him as he quickly strode towards their bedroom. He was stripping as he went and threw the clothes towards her. They struck her chest and fell to the floor; she was in the middle of taking hers off as well. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his hands fluidly putting his suit back on.

  “What does it look like?” she asked as she slid her bra and panties free, grabbing her own suit in turn. “You’re not going alone. It just ain’t happening.”

  He grunted as the suit snagged him in the crotch; the wince unnoticed as his wife shimmied into hers. “You are not going anywhere.”

  “The hell I’m not,” she told him, daring him to contradict her again. She was busy strapping her pads on and the veracity of her attitude told him it would be an uphill battle that he’d lose in the end. Still, they had just gotten here and he wanted to know his family was safe before going back out.

  “You are going to just leave Sam and the kids?” he asked, as she strapped on her weapons. He didn’t want to orphan them should something go wrong.

  She glared at him, her mouth set in a thin line, her blue eyes penetrating his resolve. “I’m not going to say this again. You are not going out there without me. You go, I go, period. You can’t handle that? Tough shit. You can stay and I’ll go.” She stormed from the room, not waiting for him to grab his rifle and join her. “Sam is more than capable of taking care of the kids, and what safer place is there for all of them to be at the moment?” he heard as she opened the door and disappeared from hearing range.

  He finally caught up to her in the communications room. She was at Rodger’s side, the old man’s suspenders given up for his own suit. Rodger looked more uncomfortable in his than Todd felt.

  Somehow, that made him feel better.

  His friend’s younger daughter was in a chair next to her brother, her eyes glued to the screens. He wanted to yank her away from there; she didn’t need to be seeing that. Rodger didn’t seem to mind and he wondered what Lucy would say if she were here. Ben was talking furiously through his blue tooth and he heard the faint sound of someone yelling through the young boy’s ear; the sound muffled and incomprehensible.

  The fans on the servers below the long computer desk kicked on and he realized that it had grown hot in here since he’d left. It had to be the suit making his internal temperature rise. An overhead vent began to blow cool air into the room and the sweat on his neck suddenly got chilled; giving him goose bumps.

  The monitor on the right showed a live feed from Alpine and his wife was bending over, trying to make out what was on the screen. “It’s an ATM cam,” she muttered, cursing at the poor quality and lack of streaming video.

  There was a gasp from the little girl and he looked over just in time to see that a dead woman had come into view on that feed. The little girl whimpered as the corpse of a young woman in a fetching blouse and skirt craned her neck at an impossible angle; staring at the camera. He doubted that whatever was running through that diseased mind understood what she was looking at. However, that didn’t keep her from walking straight up to it, her nasty gore filled mouth filling the screen.

  Wendy got off the chair, ran behind Rodger, clutched his pant leg, and hid her face. He had finally noticed the ghoulish face on that screen and muttered something to his son as he turned to his younger daughter, trying to soothe her. Ben moved his mouse and the screen closed, the flash of teeth vanishing from view.

  He shuddered from the memory as it replayed through his mind and he felt for the little girl crying in her dad’s arms. Rodger got her into another chair, but turned this one away from the screens. His hand was on her shoulder as he turned to Ben and the situation unfolding in the room around him.

  “He’s obviously still alive,” Rodger commented, the shrill scream over the ear bud making it quite obvious Casey was still kicking.

  Ben nodded, his head pointing towards his ear, not realizing they could partially hear the conversation unfolding. “I know man. Are you sure you can’t just get another car? Or hell, push it to a gas pump? There’s one right up the road. Oh, well you didn’t tell me the gas tank got shot, asshole. Well, what are you doing in the fucking woods, you noob? Cover from what?” The boy paused, listening, then gave his father a worried glance. “He says a sniper was taking shots at him. You guys had better get moving, he needs a pick up.”

  “If he’s in the woods, how the hell are we supposed to pick him up? Can’t he get to a road?” his wife asked, her hand on the back of Ben’s chair. Her head was craned to the right, trying to hear what Casey was saying.

  Ben shook his head. “There’s no way. He said the guy must be hard on his ass. He won’t turn back now. He’s worried he’s not far enough ahead and won’t detour. No Casey, they can’t hear you. I’m not going to say that. No,” Ben stated firmly. They needed to get going, but to where? “Goddammit!” the young man cursed, giving them an apologetic stare. “He says, Todd get your ass in that fucking chopper and get out here now! His words.”

  He nodded in understanding. His friend was in trouble and he wasn’t waiting any longer. “Send us the details,” he said, holding up his phone.

  Without waiting to see if anyone was following him, he strode back out of the room and towards the stairs that led to the upper level. Monica rushed to his side and his will to fight was gone. If she wanted to come along, he couldn’t stop her. He heard the harsh breathing from behind and knew that Rodger was trying to keep up as well. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. There’s no room for mistakes. If someone is after him, then I doubt they’ll discriminate at taking a shot at us as well. Maybe you should stay here, take care of the kids.” He said the last half-hoping she’d listen, but the grasp of her hand in his was enough; she wasn’t going to stay.

  Dammit, he thought.

  “If you die out there, I’ll kill you again,” she muttered, her voice stern and making him flinch. He knew she’d do just that.

  “Yes ma’am,” he said as he emerged from the lower levels and back onto the ground floor. They had a lot more ground to cover and he felt time slipping away.

  “How about we all try to come back alive and leave it at that,” Rodger remarked from behind them; startling him. He didn’t realize the old man had kept up, he was practically pushing them along.

  “Sounds like a plan.” He tried to grin, but it faltered. This was going to be hell.

  How did this crap always happen to Casey? Maybe he didn’t want the magnet for disaster back here with his family so close by. Sighing, he knew he’d never leav
e him to die out there.

  They rushed down the steps to the tunnel that would take them to Compound 1 and his phone beeped, the map app opening on its own. Ben had found a clearing for a pick up. Now the question was, would they make it there in time?

  Chapter 22

  Survival 101

  Rosilynn

  Nevada/Arizona Border

  Getting out of Vegas had been a close thing.

  Her nerves were shot and her hands still trembled when she wasn’t focusing on keeping them still. Several times she’d seen the reaper closing in and knew that they had barely escaped the outbreak trailing behind.

  It had been infuriating at first, being stuck in that much traffic; it was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She wasn’t sure where they were all going; they couldn’t possibly believe it was limited to Vegas. With no communication to the outside world, they were blindly running, with no idea of where they were going or what they’d do when they got there.

  Several times their car had been nudged by vehicles trying to force their way past, but the congestion kept them from getting too far. They had inched along; the consistent crawl having destroyed any attempt at being patient. She had beaten the car door enough that the plastic cover had a permanent dent.

  Well it wasn’t hers, so why should she give a shit?

  It had been hot in the car, the broken window letting any semblance of cool air escape before it ever reached her. The air conditioner was a piece of crap and kept overheating the idling engine, so they ended up turning it off. She wished it was cooler out; fall was approaching but it wasn’t quite there yet. Her skin had been red, the constant rubbing irritating her exposed skin; the rest of her body feeling confined and sticky.