The Apocalypse Chronicles (Book 2): New World [Undead]

by DeLeon, Jon

  Joe swallowed a large amount of saliva that had built up in his throat. The man sitting in the chair was starting to become more and more agitated. “Hey, you know, you don’t have to tell me this story.”

  “Don’t interrupt!” Kevin’s countenance was breaking. He continued. “Well after nearly a week, this brother decided that he couldn’t sit around or fish, just living like nothing had happened. So he did the one thing he could. He decided to help the efforts to kill the zombies that had separated his brother and him. You see, he never thought his brother was dead. He couldn’t explain why, but he had hope. There was something in his soul that told him his brother was alive, out there fighting somewhere. This brother had to find him. His prayers were answered. Once he signed up as a volunteer, he discovered his brother was not only alive, but he was there with him. They were literally in the same city, at the same military base. They were about to be reunited after such a long and painful journey. Their story was about to have a happy ending. Then just before I could find him, he was sent on a mission to the north. But I was told not to worry, he would be back later that day. His mission was led by an amazing captain. So it was only a few more hours of separation.” Kevin took a deep breath. As he did, his shoulders hunched over and his chin began wavering. “My brother, Eddie Martinell, didn’t make it home. In fact, only one man did.”

  Joe’s eyes grew five sizes larger. His sixth sense erupted. He reached for the nurse alarm button. Before he could grab it, Kevin was out of his chair. He grabbed Joe’s hand and cupped it between his.

  “No. No. The story isn’t over yet. Do you know who that man was?”

  Joe was still weak from the anesthetic and surgery. He tried to free his hand from Kevin’s grasp, but he couldn’t.

  “That’s right. Just that amazing captain.”

  Joe tried something else, pleading. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Martinell was a good man. We . . . we didn’t know what was happening on that island. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Not your fault? Oh, I know. I don’t hold you responsible for his death. I heard your story. There really was nothing you could have done other than scrub the mission from the start. Then again, you had never witnessed zombie strategy before. You didn’t realize they hunted in packs and even used tools. It’s not your fault.”

  Joe saw something sinister lurking in the back of Kevin’s eyes. “Listen, I don’t think—”

  Kevin tightened his grip and stared at his hands. “You have to let me finish my story.” Kevin leaned against the bed. “Where was I? Oh, that’s right, one brother was dead. The other brother, me, was left with the knowledge that he would never see his brother again. He had lost a loved one. He had lost a chance at that dream future. But you know what else he lost in that moment?” Kevin looked up at Joe, making direct eye contact. His face was not one of anger but one of sad depression. “He lost his hope. You see, without that chance of finding his brother, the world was only an evil place. Sure, evil things had happened, but with the hope of finding Eddie alive, I always had a reason for the pain. Something to push toward. Now I have nothing. I am an empty shell. That pain is the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. I would have killed myself by now, but I heard that you were alive, and I had to come meet the man who got Eddie killed. I thought I would hate you, but I don’t. I envy you. You have what I lost. You have hope. You have given me a new purpose. I must make people realize. I must help others understand how dangerous hope is. Only with no hope can we actually move on. Only without hope can we survive without getting hurt. Hope is our enemy in this new world. I must destroy that curse. I must set others free, and you will be my first success. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? You chose to join the military. You chose to sacrifice to allow others to live freely. Now you will do the same. You will be the first to feel what it’s like to lose hope and be set free from it. I will be the one to save you. And I will tell the story of how you escaped the cruelty of this world and how now you are at peace to the rest of those I help. How you finally were no longer a prisoner of hope.”

  Kevin reached up and turned the flow of the anesthetic to its max levels. The effect was instant. Joe felt his arm becoming numb, radiating from the point of the IV injection. After just a few seconds, Kevin didn’t need to hold his hand anymore. As Joe returned to the prison in his body, Kevin stood up and placed his brother’s dog tag onto the bedside table. He gathered his notebook and walked to the door. Kevin turned as he left, turning off the light. Pausing in the doorway, he faced Joe directly.

  “Thank you for your service.”

  Kevin left, closing the door behind him. Joe screamed inside his mind. He was trapped. Soon the only real sensation he had was his hearing. Even that was filled with a ringing, a musical tone.

  That ringing, it sounded familiar. It had stopped after a short while, followed by a beep. Joe was trying to stay awake, using the mystery to keep him from sleeping, and alive. What felt like an eternity passed. The door to his room burst open and slammed shut.

  “Why aren’t you dead yet!”

  Joe couldn’t open his eyes, but he recognized the voice. It was Kevin. He was back. Joe screamed in his mind. He could hear Kevin’s breathing. Joe could hear a knife being unsheathed. Then Joe heard a blast, a gunshot exploding through the window. Glass tinkled across the floor. Then silence.

  “Joe, are you okay?” It was Nurse Ricard. Joe recognized the accent.

  Joe screamed yes in his mind.

  “If you’re okay, move your eyes back and forth.”

  Joe looked left and then right. They must have moved enough to show through the eyelids. Nurse Ricard sighed and said, “You’re going to be all right.”

  A day and a half later, Joe was up and walking. The only side effect of his overdose on the anesthetic was numbing around his surgical scar. In a weird way, Kevin had saved him from pain. Joe gave nurse Ricard a farewell hug as he walked out the front doors of the hospital. A jeep was waiting to take him home. He had never looked so forward to seeing Kira and the kids. She and those children were examples of the purity still remaining in this twisted world. He loved them. He would never let them go.

  He also had a new piece of information. His faith had been rewarded. Now he really had hope.

  Key West Harbor: Outbreak Day +68

  Kira returned from yet another successful day of fishing. She exchanged her catch for gas and fishing tackle. After another comical haggle with Frannie, she headed back home to the La Vida Dulce.

  Kira pulled past the row of boats. She waved at an older man shaking out a rug on the bow of his ship. He glared and turned away, shaking his rug in a different direction. What is going on? Kira thought. When we first got here, everyone was so nice. Now they won’t even wave hello. Proving her exact thoughts, Kira spotted a pair of eyes watching her through the blinds of a houseboat’s window. When Kira made eye contact, the blinds abruptly shut. The weather is starting to warm, but the people sure as heck aren’t.

  Kira pulled her boat up to La Vida Dulce and tied it up. She climbed onto the back deck of the yacht and surveyed the chain of boats docked together. It was a ghost town. She felt eerie watching the docks sway in the waves of a lightly rocking sea. Something felt twisted. Kira turned and went inside. The second she stepped inside, all negative feelings melted away and the kids ran to her and threw their arms around her legs, hugging away all the strangeness.

  “Miss Kira!” they all cheered in unison.

  “Kira, can we play outside today?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yeah, please!” Jack added.

  “Not today, kids, it’s a little wavy out there,” Kira answered.

  “Ahh!” they all echoed. “It’s because the other people hate us, isn’t it?” Christine asked.

  “The other people don’t hate us!” Jack said.

  “Yeah-huh! We did something wrong, and now they don’t like us.” Christine snapped back.

  “Is that true, Miss Kira?” Jack asked with sadness on his face.
>
  Kira knelt down and looked at the three small faces. “No. No, kids, you didn’t do anything wrong, and people don’t hate you.”

  “Then why do they look at us so angry?” Christine asked. “Last time we played outside, Mrs. Ophelia even slammed her door shut.”

  “Yeah!” Elizabeth echoed.

  “Listen, kids, I don’t know why everyone has stopped coming out and being nice, but it has nothing to do with you.”

  “That’s not what Mrs. Perld next door said,” Christine retorted.

  “What do you mean?” Kira asked, surprised.

  “Well the other day, I could hear her through the window. She was on the phone, crying. Then she was yelling. Then she said that we were lucky little brats who don’t deserve everything. She said that everything we did reminded her of how much she lost. She said we made her sad.” Christine frowned and hung her head. “She said worse things about you.”

  Kira was taken aback. “Well, kids, I don’t know what’s going on with her, but I’m going over there to straighten this out. First we need to have breakfast.” Kira forced a smile onto her face. “I brought home eggs today. You know what that means.” She raised her eyebrows excitedly.

  “Momlets!” Jack exclaimed. The other children instantly grew big smiles.

  Kira laughed, “Yes, it’s omelet time.”

  Kira had finished cleaning all the dishes after a messy breakfast with the kids. They had all gone downstairs to play. It was time to figure out what was going on with Mrs. Perld next door. She walked the short distance and knocked on her back door.

  Mrs. Perld answered the door. She was a mess. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the trails of tears down her face were easily visible. “What do you want from me? Don’t you have enough?”

  Kira let the insulting tone slide. “I wanted to check on you. The kids said they heard you crying.”

  “Sure! Yeah, I was crying. So now you’ve come to rub salt in the wound?”

  Kira lost her patience. “What are you talking about?!”

  “You know!” Mrs. Perld spat back at her.

  Kira was genuinely hurt. “Look, I don’t know. I don’t get it. You and I both have been ostracized for the last few months from everyone else. You and I have both felt the judging and peering eyes of everyone, just because we have two men close to us alive and fighting up north. Like we didn’t lose others. You and I both chose to relocate to this far end of the boat dock to get away from it, that bullshit jealousy. Now you’re turning on me now too. Why?”

  “Why?” Mrs. Perld was turning hateful. “Why? Because you’re a reminder. You and your little ‘family’ are a reminder of everything that I have lost. I have held on long enough. I have watched your ‘kids’ playing outside. I have listened to their laughing and seen the smile on your face. I have watched you tie those barrels to the front of your boat, and I have seen you bring home gift after gift after gift from your fishing trip. I’ve let you rub your success in my face. I was stupid. I was hoping to someday build something like that of my own. But now . . . now that is all gone!”

  “What are you talking about? You’re jealous of my fishing success? Are you out there every morning fishing? Leaving everything you love at risk? No! Don’t judge me!”

  “I have nothing left! Your precious Joe took that away!”

  “What?” Kira was surprised to hear his name come from Mrs. Perld’s mouth.

  Mrs. Perld was descending deeper into her personal hell. “Up north, your ‘Joe’ led his entire team into a trap. Everyone, including my Francis, died.”

  “What?” Kira’s heart felt like it had dropped thirteen stories in an elevator.

  “Yeah.” Mrs. Perld was snarling now. “Everyone, except your precious Joe.

  Kira felt her heart beating again. “Is he okay?”

  “Get off my fucking boat!” Mrs. Perld screamed.

  “Wait, you said he’s alive. Does that mean he’s okay?” Kira pleaded for information.

  “Get off my boat, and never come back!” Mrs. Perld slammed the door in Kira’s face.

  “Wait! Is he alive!” Kira yelled at the door. There would be no answer.

  Kira shakily walked back to La Vida Dulce. She looked out toward the ocean. We need to get out of here, or this place will claim everything I love. It’s trying to take Joe. Next it will come for the kids. I can’t let that happen. Kira looked toward the front of the boat. She had been preparing for something. She hadn’t been sure what for, but her intuition had been telling her Key West wouldn’t last forever. Now she knew it was almost time.

  The island and the assault up north were being supplied with oil from active rigs in the Gulf of Mexico. These rigs had been cleared of any infected and put into full operation, supplying tankers running nearly around the clock. These rigs held one of the two keys to their freedom. They needed the fuel to travel anywhere.

  Now looking at the numerous barrels she had tied to the front of her boat and hearing of Joe’s unit’s destruction but his survival, she made a promise to herself. Kira had been hiding a significant amount of gold. Now it was time to spend it. And she felt for the first time, knowing how much almost losing him hurt, how important Joe was to her. She wanted to give him something, the greatest gift she could, a chance for his hopes to be realized. They were going to leave Key West and find a way to traverse the Atlantic and go in search of Joe’s brother.

  Word around Key West was that a flotilla had been established in the Mediterranean. Several aircraft carriers formed the center of a floating island of ships and subsequent rings of smaller ships docked side by side. The result was supposed to be a city on the water. They were calling it “Newlantis.”

  Now she just needed the fuel, and Joe. She turned and went inside, but not before catching a scowling look from the boat across the back deck.

  A set of eyes peered through pulled-down curtains. They were full of judgment. A neighbor had been listening to the fight. Kira glared back at them, hard. The blinds snapped shut. Fucking coward. Her focus and laser stare were so intense as she lasered that window with her glare that she didn’t notice the sound of a passing gull complaining to the world about the lack of food, and she didn’t notice the man watching her from a few boats down.

  Chester Almont stood on the back deck of a smaller yacht just four boats down the row from La Vida Dulce. He puffed on a cigar and watched as Kira reentered her boat after a heated conversation with her neighbor. A crooked smile outlined his face. His plan was working perfectly. He could almost feel the jealousy in the air. The yachts were rife with it.

  Over the last two weeks, he had been sowing seeds of dissent, and he had found fertile ground. The people here had lost much and had weakened resolve. This left an open door for his forked tongue. Every person felt guilt for his or her current situation. Survivor’s remorse is what they called it. They were being weighed down by guilt like a boat held by an anchor. At this point, they were looking for anything to blame. Chester gave them that something.

  First Chester began talking with the people who had lost children. He had approached them, asking simple questions about this or that. Then after talking with them for a while, he would say he had seen small children at the store the other day. The boater would say something along the lines of, “Oh yeah, those are Kira’s kids. Well not really her kids, but she takes care of them.” Then he would reply with a loaded statement such as, “Kinda makes you think back on your kids, huh? Like, why did they die and leave you childless while this young girl who didn’t even want a family, had never loved someone like that, inherits three little kids. She is literally gifted a family while others have them ripped away. It doesn’t seem fair.” In the emotional state of many of these mothers, it hit home deeply in their subconscious. Only a few days later, they could not listen to or see the children playing. It became physically painful.

  Next Chester went after the people who were struggling, barely getting by with their fuel allotment. He would time his conversations
with these poor souls perfectly. He made sure to be talking to them when Kira came back from fishing trips. He would sow his seed with a statement as simple as, “Wow she has a lot of extra fuel today.” Sometimes if he felt that it hadn’t taken root in his target’s mind, he would laugh and tell a story of her generosity for sharing fuel with other fishermen. Then he would say, in an aloof manner, “Well you know what I’m talking about?” The boat owner would reply, “No.” Chester would respond in surprise and shock, “Really? Wait she doesn’t share with you? Wow, sorry, my bad. I just figured, I mean, she has so much extra fuel and money that I just thought she would help people out. She helps out fishermen, so I guess I assumed she helped out her row.” It only took a few good rumors to set a wildfire through the group.