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

by Ray, Timothy A.

  He would have to explain it to him when he was lucid; he wasn’t going to make an effort now.

  “This can’t be happening,” Sam whispered, shaking her head with horror. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, trying to convey as much sympathy as he could.

  The phone he had liberated from Ben’s desk went off; making most of them jump at the sudden noise intruding upon their grief.

  “Sorry,” he told them as he put the blue tooth into his ear and hit the answer button. He listened for a second and laughed, surprising them all. They gave him tearful confused glances. “Well, holy shit Mark, welcome back to the land of the living!”

  The sorrow they were all feeling was still there, but at the mention of Mark’s name, it began to lift. One of their friends they had long thought dead was all right. If that was true for him, it had to be true for some of the others, didn’t it?

  The sudden news of Mark’s resurrection even registered with Casey, who broke out in a big grin and told him he always loved a man in a fireman’s uniform.

  Sighing, he didn’t repeat that over the phone and nodded at the others. He stood and headed back to the communications room. Mark wanted to know where his family was and he was going to do everything he could to help him find them. It was the one positive thing he could do and he was determined to make it happen.

  Chapter 34

  Washed up

  Rosilynn

  Lake Mohave, AZ

  Water, pain, bits of air, and arms clinging to her; that’s all she could remember as she lay on the wet soil, her feet flowing with the water. Her lungs violently coughed up the river water in an effort to restore her airway. She could vaguely remember Matt finding her in that river, bringing her to the surface, and both of them clutching a piece of debris as the explosion sent the river violently south.

  “Matt?” she croaked, her throat raw and slightly swollen.

  Her body was a storm of pain that raged on even after the river had deposited her here. Her limbs burned, her head was pounding, and she was still coughing up water as if she’d never get it all out. Her husband’s arm was no longer around her and she tried to open her eyes as she realized that she was lying there alone.

  The bright moon overhead seared her brain and she screamed. Her hand flew to her head in an effort to somehow contain the daggers that were infiltrating her mind. She rolled away from the moon, her eyes squeezed shut and her scream cut off as she once again began to throw up onto the cold wet ground.

  “Matt?” she called again. There was still no response.

  Her hand reached out and struck something solid. Her hand ache from the mixture of cold and the force of the impact. Allowing her eyes to slowly adjust, she hesitantly opened them and looked at the world around her.

  There was a concrete picnic table two feet in front of her and the entire thing was dripping water, like it had been recently submerged. Looking around carefully, she took in the manmade campsite that she had been washed up on. Debris littered the area and water was lapping at her legs. It was impossible to believe that the campsite had been built this close to the waterline and she could see the metal box designated for campfires underneath the water to her right.

  Her pack was still attached and it pulled her onto her back. No matter how much she tried, she could not manage to get the strength up to turn on her side. She tried to work her arms free, her shoulders flaring where the straps had held. She strained her neck to see if she could see her husband along the bank of the newly created shoreline, but there was no trace of him.

  Something grasped her leg and she cried out. Pain shot up her hip and she nearly bit her tongue off in the agony it caused. There was a zombie crawling out of the water by her feet and the bloated body was desperately trying to puncture the rubber of her suit. It was wearing a white T-shirt and had been one of the cult members that had leapt off the dam.

  In fear and disgust, she clawed her way back, her feet kicking the monstrosity in the face, forcing it to pull back into the river momentarily. Her hands reached out desperately and her fingers closed upon a large rock. Mustering all the strength she could, she brought it down on the head of the zombie that had clawed its way to her waist.

  The head crumpled under the blow and gunk sprayed her face. Her stomach wrenched and she threw up again. It took the last bit of strength she had to break herself free of the waterlogged corpse and she kicked it away from her as she lay with her head next to the water. She didn’t care what might be in it, she had to wash this taste out of her mouth and clean off her face.

  After a few minutes, she had finally been able to turn herself over. Tentatively, she had tried to gain her feet. Using the picnic table for support, she lifted herself with her wobbly knees and sat down on the drenched bench. From this height, she was able to see that the geography of the land around her had been dramatically changed by the river as it rushed south. Broken trees were bent at odd angles and water occupied what once had been dry desert land. To the north an orange glow drew her eyes to the horizon.

  She shielded her eyes and gasped in horror at the mushroom cloud blossoming there. How close had they been to it when it had gone off? How much radiation had she been exposed too? She recalled being in the water a few minutes before the first wave pushed them downstream. Had it been a safe enough distance when the blast wave hit? Had the water pushed them ahead of the radiation generated by a blast of that magnitude? She didn’t feel any immediate signs of radiation poisoning; and she cautiously checked her vitals for any irregularities.

  They were elevated but in a normal range. It didn’t mean much, but it did a lot to ease her mind. The only measure of how bad it was, was going to be was time; how much did she have left?

  A gunshot pierced her daze and her head jerked to the south. Her aching body refused to obey as she forced herself to her feet. She had to grip the table top firmly in an effort to steady herself and keep from pitching forward. Another shot rang out and a shout followed after.

  Someone was yelling her name.

  “Matt!” she hollered back, hoping that he was in range of her voice. She felt at her waist and sighed with relief that the .45 was still on her left hip and her sword on her right. Somehow, they had stayed with her when her Rimfire was stripped away. How effective the gun would be was the real question; how wet was the gunpowder after that journey downstream?

  She should’ve sealed their ammo in bags as well.

  “Rosilynn?” she heard her name called again. It was enough to renew her strength as she began to stumble towards the sound of the voice.

  Working her way through the broken carnage around her, she made her way forward, drawing her sword from its sheathe and holding it in an unsteady hand before her. After thirty feet, the moonlight distinguished two shambling figures; both heading away from her.

  Another gunshot penetrated the silence of the night.

  The head of the stumbling form on the right suddenly blew apart and fell to the ground, disappearing from sight. The one on the left was still making its way forward and she heard a curse in the distance. Trying to pick up her pace, she nearly fell forward again and was forced to slow down or end up face first in the wet ground she was trodding upon.

  Closing the distance, she brought her sword up, then swung it quickly. The blade embedded itself in the head of the white-shirted corpse and her hand refused to let go of the hilt as the body fell forward, dragging her along with it.

  In a shriek of surprise, she found herself lying on top of the ruined corpse, her body shaking in revulsion. She jerked her head away from the ghastly ghoul, then turned over, landed on one knee, and gave the sword a yank. The wet sound the blade made when it left the corpse’s head was sickening, but her stomach had nothing further to offer tonight. Her brain was numb from the violence afflicted on it during the day’s events. Her breath came in quick rasps and she tried desperately to slow it down and regain her feet.

  “Who’s there?” she heard a voice call
from just ahead.

  “Matt?” she called, standing on her shaking knees and taking small steps forward.

  “Rosilynn?” he asked, as she finally cleared the grass that had been hiding her husband. She found him lying on the ground with his gun raised and a smile upon his face. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered.

  She went to him then. The happiness that she felt at their survival was unrivaled by any she’d ever felt in the past. The sight of him lying there smiling up at her had been too much for her to handle in her current state.

  As they embraced, she felt his lips on hers and welcomed the grip of his arms around her back. “I told you it wasn’t goodbye,” he croaked and she laughed until her throat ached, then laughed some more.

  Chapter 35

  Make a Break for it

  Saint

  Tucson, AZ

  “We’re going to have to move quickly,” she told Jesus. He had followed after her with Erik and Andy, the four of them leaving the others to search the fire station for supplies and weapons. She was in a large garage housing the two abandoned fire trucks. She stood at the side door overlooking the employee parking lot and her heart lightened when she saw the fire-chief’s truck still parked in its designated spot.

  “What if there are more of them waiting out there?” Andy asked, making it quite known whose side he had chosen after that last confrontation with Robert. It had surprised her at first. She had thought the two men were friends and the young aspiring guitarist had been traveling with him long before their two groups met. But things had begun to change when Robert had gone after Erik, and his detachment since had been in a matter of degrees.

  She shook her head. “Better to leave now while they are congregating at the front doors than wait for them to find their way to this door. We’re going to have to make a break for it.”

  Erik nodded in agreement, leaning against the wall to support his weary body. He knew what might happen if he stayed much longer and he would do anything if it meant getting away from Robert. “What about Him?” he asked, nodding back the way they had come in. He had been friends with Jeff too and she thought she saw fire kindling in his eyes.

  “Fuck him,” she growled, bringing a smile to their faces.

  Jesus nodded and said “I’ll go check the Chief’s office for the keys.” He quickly dashed across the garage and disappeared from view.

  “You up to this?” she asked Erik, seeing how pale he was. His arm had stopped bleeding, but the blood loss might make it hard on him to go much further on his own. He simply nodded, the slump of his shoulders telling her how much strain keeping his feet was putting on him; but he was determined to push on.

  “If we make it to Jesus’ place, we’ll hold up so you can rest,” she said, trying to sound confident. She didn’t feel it herself. What she wanted to do was to take this axe and bury it in Robert’s skull. If they stayed here, she might not be able to stop herself from trying to do just that.

  No, it was best that they leave quickly before her anger returned and forced her along that path. She had other things to worry about and didn’t want that monster’s blood on her hands. He may think it was all right feeding her boyfriend to the zombies; but she wasn’t ever going to believe so. She would never be like him. If refusing to sink to his level got her killed, then at least she’d die being true to herself and not some shadow of what she used to be.

  Jesus ran back into the garage holding a set of keys. “Found them,” he said needlessly, handing them over.

  She simply nodded and glanced through the window. There was nothing moving out there, but she couldn’t see what was lurking on the side of the door either. “We’re going to make a run for it, stay right behind me. Try to move quietly, get in the truck, and then we’re out of this freak show for good,” she whispered, hoping not to draw the attention of those roaming the halls of the station. The sound would carry and she didn’t want them alerted to what they were doing until they were long gone from this place.

  The three of them stood right beside her, each nodding that they were ready. Andy stroked his guitar case for luck and she couldn’t help but smile at that.

  She reached out and grasped the knob and opened the door cautiously, trying her best not to make a sound as she swung it slowly open. Sound was like a dinner bell to these things and her mind winced as she remembered that it had been her scream back at the store that had been responsible for David’s death. And hours later, here she was, responsible for three others as she made another mad dash from a besieged building that harbored evil both within and out.

  This time she was armed, but she was the only one of the four that was. None of them had found weapons outside the axe she was wielding and she prepared herself as much as she could for what might come next. No one would die this time if she could help it.

  She stepped out, checked both sides for signs of the undead, and let out her breath in a gush of relief; so far so good. She motioned for the others to follow and they filed out after her. They moved silently to the truck, her ears listening to the moans from the front of the building and trying desperately not to make a sound as she slowly unlocked the doors. It had an extended cab and as she unlocked the passenger door, she lifted the handle slightly and slid it open. She opened the back door and Erik and Andy climbed in. Jesus hopped into the passenger seat and reached to unlock the driver door. She dashed around the front of the truck, eased the door open; and hopped in quickly, clicking it shut behind her. She slid the keys into the ignition and paused; the moment she turned this engine over they would come. She closed her eyes and began to pray as she twisted the key.

  The engine roared to life.

  The two in the back were whispering and she looked in her rear-view mirror. Robert was staring out at them through the window on the door they had just exited. His eyes glared with hate and she rolled down the window. Slamming the truck into reverse, she backed up quickly, then paused for a second to stare into those dark eyes; letting him see she hated him as much as he did her.

  Smiling, she threw the truck into drive, flipped him the bird, and hit the gas.

  The truck lunged forward and clipped a walker coming around the corner. Flying into the road she veered left, leaving the pack of zombies in her wake. They must have realized part of their food supply was leaving as half raced after her. The rest stayed at the front door of the fire station and she hoped she hadn’t drawn enough of them away to give Robert a quick way out.

  She didn’t see Jeff in that herd of zombies, but if one of them were to take that fucker out; she prayed that it would be him. The poetic justice in that was not lost on her.

  Robert would not give up now; he’d do whatever it took to find her again. Best to put as much distance between them as quickly as possible. As much as she hated it and didn’t want to bring it up, he did know where they were going; after Jesus’s wife and kid.

  The question was, did he know where Jesus lived?

  She didn’t want to spend the night there, it was too risky with that bastard following after her, but she didn’t think there was a choice. Erik was done in, holding on by willpower alone. They needed a night to rest and regroup. She looked up at the moon and felt the rage in her body driving her on. She may not get any sleep this night.

  Sighing, she turned the wheel and raced through the Diamond Shamrock’s parking lot, avoiding the litter of bodies rotting in the intersection. Glancing behind her to make sure no one was following them; she floored it and raced forward, fleeing the darkness and trying desperately to get into the light.

  Her phone buzzed and she jumped out of her skin. Handing the phone from her back pocket to Jesus, she continued on, wondering why it was suddenly working. She flipped on the radio and heard the President talking. Jesus held up the phone and she saw she had two missed messages.

  Todd: You still there?

  That was a relief. Her heart lightened and some of the anger fled her. Her phone was working! Todd had made it and was still checkin
g up on her. Thank God. They might have a chance after all.

  Her heart froze as she read the second one. She had forgotten that she had given him her number and he must have found out the phones were working again. A coldness settled upon her as the hate in her heart blossomed into a white rage.

  Robert: You’re going to die bitch

  Jesus’ eyes said exactly what she was already thinking—you’ve got to find us first.

  Chapter 36

  Revenge

  Robert

  Tucson, AZ

  Robert’s rage was boiling over. While they were searching the fire station for supplies and weapons, that bitch had snuck out the side door and escaped him. While it had been part of his plan all along, the fact that she had gotten away without a single walker reaching her had deepened his hatred. Then the bitch actually had the gall to smile and flip him off?

  His phone beeped in his hand and he smiled as he read the text floating on its screen.

  GTG

  Things might not have turned out the way he had planned, but he had still gotten exactly what he wanted. He needed her to believe that she was getting away so she’d lead them where he wanted to go; to Todd. The fierce hate he held for the man was overloading his senses and he was willing to let the little bitch go if it meant that he’d get his hands on them both in the end.

  The loss of his daughter had weighed heavily on him throughout the day; fueling his rage and changing his heart into this cold being that even he didn’t recognize. It was all Todd’s fault. If he had thought of the rest of them when he made his perfectly timed escape, then his daughter might still be alive.

  Oh yes, there was going to be a reckoning when he caught up to them, of that his heart sure. His smile grew and he pocketed the phone.