Season Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 2)

by Michael W. Garza

  He took one step before a new sound reached the opening between the buildings and the fence. The thud of footsteps were lost under a rising growl. Rowan took one more step before he spotted the crimson splotches of blood on the otherwise unblemished snow. The bloodstains were lost under the first step of a decomposing foot as the dead pushed out into the open.

  “Get back.”

  Rowan was moving backwards, keeping his eyes and his bow trained on the growing crowd. The mob swelled until there were more zombies than anyone cared to count. Bree led Gabriel and Tate away from the front of the building, catching up with the others in the center of the street. Rowan stole a glance at his compatriots and found the faces of the Knights of Rowan full of panic.

  “Move around the far side of the next building and try and lead us out the way we came.”

  Nobody moved and he was forced to take his eyes off the advancing dead. He grabbed Jonah’s jacket and made the boy look at him.

  “I need you to lead the way.”

  It took a moment for Jonah to blink out of his rattled haze. Rowan waited until he got a reassuring nod then pushed him off in the direction he wanted them to go. He was calling out orders when he re-engaged with the advancing mob.

  “Bree and Bale stay close to me,” he shouted. “Gabriel and Tate keep up with Jonah.” He pulled his bowstring back as he took aim. “Make sure you can see one another at all times.”

  Bree fired first and Bale was right behind her. Both hit their mark, but neither took one of the walking dead down. The mob moved at a slow pace, most of them barely audible beyond a few feet. Their decomposing husks were in a terrible state of rot. Most of them were picked clean of the clothes from their former lives, exposing their skin to the elements. Purple and blue decorated most of their limbs, the bare tissue a withering black.

  “Save your arrows,” he ordered.

  He urged the others to turn and run, figuring they could easily outpace the dead once they got into the open. His calculation was interrupted the moment he spun around.

  “Rowan!”

  He heard Jonah’s cry, but couldn’t see him. Gabriel and Tate stopped at the edge of a building, but Jonah had already rounded the corner. The two boys were backing away and the open air was met with a clear call of dead-speak carrying on the wind. Tate tried to fire an arrow at something between the buildings, but Gabriel staggered into him and the shot went straight up in the air. Rowan didn’t need to see what was coming.

  “Run. Run now,” he yelled. “Straight ahead.”

  Bree and Bale sprinted off ahead of him. They slowed down long enough to grab Gabriel and get him moving. Rowan forced Tate to go then took in the full view of what was pushing through the alley between the buildings. Jonah stood a few feet ahead of him, firing the last of his arrows.

  The full sight of a pack of infected was enough to freeze a man’s heart. Jonah had seen more horrors in his young life than most, but even he had his limits. They were not truly dead, each with a heart still beating in their chest. It was the blood they craved over the flesh, and the dark traversing veins beneath their graying skin showed the infection rushing through their bodies. Rowan counted five of them running toward him, each of them screaming, blaring out in their perverse tongue.

  He grabbed Jonah by the collar and the boy spun around ready to strike. Jonah’s mind made a recognition a split second before he slammed his fist into Rowan’s jaw. There was no time to speak, Rowan flung the boy into motion and turned himself as he did. They were running a moment later down the center of the snow-covered street, the pack of infected close behind and the mass of dead beyond them.

  “Stay out in front of me.”

  The order was unnecessary. Rowan took a few steps and realized Jonah was as fast as him. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what they were going to do. They could outrun the dead, he was sure, but they would never outlast the infected. It didn’t take him long to realize they were going to have to make a stand.

  The surrounding buildings came and went at a blur and before they knew it, they were out in the open. Rowan’s mind was swirling too fast to figure if they were running in the right direction. Panic rose up into his chest as he fought to remain in control. His heart thundered in his ears. Bale was yelling something, but he couldn’t make it out; instead, he locked on to Bree motioning toward a large outcropping of trees. She veered off toward them and Rowan knew in an instant what she meant to do.

  The infected did not move well in close quarters. Their infection caused their limbs to twitch and spasm erratically. The crammed space among the dense woods would slow them down. It wasn’t much, but Rowan figured it might be enough to keep them alive. He shouted out his final order as the shadow of the trees swept over them.

  “Fire your bows, then go.”

  They followed the instructions to the letter, each of them spinning around at the wood line and releasing several shots at the advancing infected before plunging into the underbrush. Rowan was the last to fire. His eyes widened when he realized the pack were within arm’s reach. He got one shot off before he was forced to drop his bow and pull the long knife from his belt.

  He backed into the woods as the infected rushed in after him. Only three remained, the others lying dead out in the snow. The mob of undead were still making their way out beyond the buildings. Rowan prepared himself and brought his knife up ready to strike.

  The infected burst into the woods, shrieking out in their foul dead-speak. One of them locked on to Rowan and charged directly toward him. There was no time to strike without absorbing the impact, so Rowan did the next best thing. He waited until he could feel the breath of the infected man then dropped down, bending at the waist. The man’s momentum kept him moving forward, and Rowan drove his shoulder into his gut and stood straight up. The result sent the infected man into the air, flipping once, and then slamming into the tree behind them.

  Rowan spun around and dropped to his knee as the infected man tried to get up. Lines of spit gushed from his jaws as he bit at the air. Dark stains of dried blood covered his neck and the top of his frayed shirt. Rowan’s move was quick, plunging his knife into the infected man’s throat. A hard pull ripped the blade out one side, almost slicing the head clean off in the process.

  Rowan was up, but before he could gather his senses, he was knocked back to the ground as something bowled into him from behind. He heard the nefarious growl as his face struck the frozen ground. The hit blurred his vision, but his instincts kept him moving. Rowan rolled on to his back a moment before another of the infected leapt down on top of him. The impact forced the air from his lungs and knocked the knife from his hand. Rowan lay defenseless as the vile woman wrapped both hands around his face and leaned in for the kill.

  The golden hue of her eyes held Rowan in place, the sheer terror shocking his senses. He felt the tug of her teeth against the side of his throat. The moment the pressure of the bite began, it stopped. The infected woman’s full weight came down on his chest and it took him a moment to realize she’d stop moving.

  The haze cleared from his eyes then he pushed up and rolled the woman’s lifeless body to one side. Blood spurted from a sizable wound in the side of her head. Bree leaned over the body and gave her another stab for good measure. Bale was behind her, the last of the infected at his feet.

  Rowan sat up on his butt then took Jonah’s outstretched hand. He found his knife and slid it back into his belt as Gabriel and Tate stepped out from behind the trees. They were all smiling at him and he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of their enjoyment of the situation. Rowan took a deep gulp of air and focused on Jonah. He pulled him close and relayed a new and important instruction.

  “Don’t tell your sister.”

  4

  The moon hung high in the sky, which signaled that Rowan was officially late. Mia took her time, escorting Sara back to the tribal council’s conference room, partly because the older woman was in no hurry, but mostly because she had a gut feeling
Rowan wasn’t going to be there when she returned. Mia was standing at the edge of the wide hole in the ground that acted as the entrance to hive one, staring off into the distance. The small device hanging from a string around her neck was the only source of light.

  Mia had never seen artificial light prior to reaching Canaan some four months ago, but now she couldn’t imagine living without it. She’d read about the old world and all of its wonders in the books kept by her tribe before the destruction of their home. She never once imagined she’d get to see a few of those wonders first hand.

  The personnel lights were a gift from the former commission of Canaan, left behind in their haste to abandon the compound. Most of the members of the newly christened Canaan tribe had one. The problem was that the lights were slowly dying, and bit by bit, the excavated sections of the habitable hives were being consumed by darkness. Mia’s focus on the light and the other concerns brewing in her mind were merely a distraction. She was doing her best not to think about all of the reasons Rowan, her brother Jonah, and his friends had not yet returned. A familiar whistle shook her from her thoughts.

  “You might have noticed the sun went down some time ago,” she said.

  Mia couldn’t see him yet, but she knew he was there. A quick look around the remains of Canaan’s once proud walls focused her to the west. She couldn’t count the outlines, but there was a group of people, making their way over the snow-covered ruins. Rowan’s response was a familiar yet tiring one.

  “Sorry.”

  Mia held her tongue and waited. She couldn’t stop herself from tapping her foot in the snow. She wrapped her arms around herself and nervously counted the personnel lights as they popped on one by one. She took a long breath when she was finished, satisfied the entire troop had returned.

  They were a dirty bunch from Rowan to Bree, each of them with scratches and splotches of dirt smeared on their clothes. Bale, Tate, and Gabriel smiled politely before dashing down the makeshift stairs and disappearing into the hive. Bree gave Jonah a playful shove then ran off after the others. Jonah stood by Rowan, each looking as guilty as a thief.

  “I don’t suppose you wanna tell me about your hunting trip?” she asked.

  Jonah and Rowan gave one another a sideways glance.

  “Not much out there today,” Rowan said.

  “Yep,” Jonah added, sheepishly. “Boring as can be.”

  The boy tried to get past his sister before she peppered him with any other questions. Mia gave up on him and focused her attention and renewing frustration on Rowan. Her brother gave a less than supportive parting shot.

  “Good luck.”

  Rowan smiled, but kept his eyes on her.

  “Did I miss something today?”

  The question set Mia’s hair on fire.

  “How can you–?” She stopped, recognizing that she was yelling. A two count and a deep breath convinced her that she could continue without shouting. “How can you ask that? You know damn well that I needed you here today.” Rowan’s face soured. “Don’t you realize how serious this is?”

  He started toward the stairs, motioning for her to follow him.

  “Of course I do, but that’s for the council to decide.”

  “You’re a part of the council,” she reminded him.

  He chuckled to himself. “Only because you asked for me to be on it,” he said. “They don’t care what I think.”

  “They care.” She realized the moment she said it that her words were hollow. “They do,” she added trying to convince herself.

  Rowan offered her his arm and they moved down the stairs and into the main passage. Mia wasn’t finished, but the people milling about the halls held her tongue in place. The wide array of lanterns and personnel lights illuminated the lengthy space. Mia lowered her voice.

  “The scouts returned.”

  The update got Rowan’s attention. He stopped and turned her to look at him.

  “Why didn’t you say so?” he asked. “What’s the news?”

  Mia looked up then down the hall before relaying the report.

  “The horde is moving directly toward us,” she whispered, although the information wasn’t necessarily a secret. There was still hope that the horde of the dead might go around them, but the new information told a different story. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Rowan’s face softened. It was his turn to look up and down the hall, but then he took a few steps and moved in close to her. Mia could feel the heat of his breath. She felt compelled to grab his hands. A closer look revealed the concern in his eyes and she was grateful to see it.

  “Then let’s get out of here,” he said.

  He’d been a firm supporter of leaving from the beginning. He had no interest in staying in Canaan even before the hope of getting the generators back on faded. Mia nodded. She tried to get her hands to stop shaking.

  “I know,” she said, “but we have to decide as a group.”

  Rowan let her hands go as his face drew up in a frustrated scowl.

  “Why?” he asked. “We can take care of ourselves. You, me, Jonah, hell whoever else wants to come. I don’t care.”

  He took a step back and Mia felt the return of the invisible barrier that had grown between them.

  “I can’t turn my back on them,” she said.

  Rowan threw his hands up.

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” he asked. “Wait here until they come swarming in?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s a damn good question.”

  She tried to keep the conversation to a dull roar, but her response came out before she had time to consider the impact.

  “Asher still believes we can get the generators on in time if we can reach them.”

  The mere mentioning of Asher’s name produced a roll of the eyes.

  “I don’t care what he says.”

  Mia opened her mouth, but before she could respond, her name echoed down the hall.

  “Mia, Mia.”

  Asher ran toward them from the turn at the end of the passage. Rowan groaned unnecessarily loud at the sight of him. A moment later and the two of them stood across from Mia, neither acknowledging the other. Asher was out of breath, sweat rolling down from the edges of his closely cropped hair. He managed to get out the meat of his message.

  “They got through,” he said. “They opened the tunnel to hive five.”

  ♦

  The tribal council was gathered and several other members deemed essential were added to the group. Mia arrived to find barely enough space within the conference room to move. Rowan groaned at the sight of it. Mia decided she was satisfied that he agreed to come at all.

  Asher led the way, working around the room until he and Mia found their seats. Rowan made a space for himself in the back of the room. Mia waited until he gave her a nod before turning her attention to an ongoing debate. Apparently, there was a good deal more to the discovery.

  “…what do you mean disappeared?”

  The question came from Walker. His attention, and almost everyone else around the table, was focused on four people sitting across from him. Mia guessed from their clothes and their general look of disarray that they were part of a digging team. The lone woman among them took on the question.

  “We were taking a haul topside for a dump off,” she explained. “Limmy and Duncan stayed down at the site. We rotate the heavy lifting,” she said as she looked around at the inquisitors. All of the other conversations died away, leaving her voice as the lone focus in the room. “It takes a while to get up there and get back down again.”

  “What did you find when you got back to the site?” Walker asked.

  “Nearly the entire passage was open,” she said.

  The comment produced a low murmur from the onlookers. Sara raised a hand to try to cut off any interruptions.

  “Go ahead, please,” Sara said.

  The woman nodded then looked at the others from her team before c
ontinuing.

  “We were shocked,” she said. “The other side of the passage was clear and open. We took a look around, each of us calling out for Limmy and Duncan. I figured they found something good or Duncan was trying to scare us. He’s good for stuff like that.” She snickered uncomfortably. “That was when I found the lamp.”

  “Did you find the rest of your crew?” Sara asked.

  The woman shook her head.

  “We backed out of there,” she said. “That lamp was broken, beat in, and there was,” she paused, “it was covered in blood.”

  The long silence was washed away by a wave of noise as the room broke into discussion. The woman and her crew took the opportunity to slip away from the table and head for the door. The result of the initial surge of deliberation was universal. Soldiers were dispatched to the newly created passage between hives four and five. They would keep up a rotation until the council could decide on a way forward. That, however, was about the only thing they could agree on.

  A majority of the onlookers drifted off to spread the news, and Mia was left looking around at the familiar faces of the primary council members. Her gaze settled on Rowan. She was glad to see he hadn’t slipped out with the rest of the crowd. Asher’s voice cut through the room.

  “We should get in there as soon as we can,” he said. “We have people who know their way around that hive.”

  The silence following the declaration surprised Mia. There were few matters brought up in the council that weren’t disagreed with by at least one of the other representatives. She realized that this time it was her turn.

  “It’s too dangerous,” she said. “We need to make sure the crews can safely reach the generators.”

  The support was something less than resolute.

  “There’s little time to waste,” Hinnick reminded them. “Marcus was pretty clear on that.”

  There were a number of head nods around the table.

  “We don’t know what’s down there,” Mia responded.

  She was surprised to hear Rowan speak up.

  “Yes we do,” he said, stepping away from the wall and approaching the edge of the table. “We’re going to run into the same thing we’ve run into every time we’ve tried to clear out a level of any of the hives. But hive five and six are connected through several passages,” he looked directly at her, “you and I,” he swept his eyes across the faces sitting at the table, “and most of the rest of you have seen it for yourselves. They kept a small army of the dead locked away in those cages and we still don’t know why.”