Season Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 2)

by Michael W. Garza

  “And what about Rowan?” Sara asked. “What about Jonah?”

  Mia nodded her head absentmindedly as if the question had a yes or no answer. Her response was void of emotion.

  “Rowan has three days.”

  Sara grunted as she stood up. She lovingly stroked Mia’s hair before starting for the entrance to the hive.

  “Then you need to make sure you’re back here before then to help me pull him out of that forsaken place.”

  18

  Rowan knew the moment he started his climb down into the gorge that his hunt for the nexus was nearly an impossible task. He surmised that finding the undead boy inside a monstrous hive filled with the dead would take much longer than Jonah or Tate had left. A glance at Connor’s face hinted that a chance for the boys’ safe return might be right in front of him. Rowan repeated Kuru’s question back to him.

  “Do you know who he is?”

  The light from the gorge caught Kuru’s face as he smiled. The result forced Rowan to pull himself away. Kuru’s blackened gums were dotted with slender pieces of meat lining the spaces between his rotting teeth. He held an overjoyed expression as he nodded.

  “I know him quite well,” he said.

  Rowan stared down at the captive and guessed at the inflection in Kuru’s voice.

  “You trapped him in there, didn’t you?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “I chased him in there.”

  Rowan wasn’t certain he wanted to know the full story, but Kuru continued on.

  “I found the gimp soon after the explosion,” he paused, “soon after my reawakening.”

  The comment pulled Rowan’s attention away from the view down on the bottom of the gorge.

  “I toyed with him,” Kuru admitted, “watching him run for his life. You see, there were far more of the infected down here then. The infected do die off. I guess everything has to feed to survive, which would explain what you saw outside of the city.”

  Rowan had nearly forgotten what he witnessed beyond the borders of Cheyenne in the days leading up to the purge. He and Kuru were on the run then, Rowan searching for Mia and Kuru for his mother. They’d followed a group of the dead, led by the infected through the outlands. Rowan saw for himself what the infected planned to do with their living captives, corralling them like cattle.

  “They rise again,” Kuru continued, “adding to the numbers of the walking dead.” He brushed the thought away. “I trapped Connor with an idea in mind,” his eyes narrowed as he glared at Rowan. “I wanted to see if I could make one of my own.”

  It took a moment for the idea to sink in. Rowan felt his eyes grow wide as fear took hold. Kuru was truly something beyond the dead and the infected. He was some terrible new evolution with a lustful taste for flesh, but still with full control over his mind. It hadn’t occurred to Rowan that Kuru could spread his disease as easily as the monsters that came before him. Rowan tripped over his words as he tried to get to the details.

  “Did you…bite him?”

  Kuru ground his teeth.

  “I tried, but he got away from me.”

  Rowan realized he was holding his breath.

  “How?”

  Kuru held his hand over his shirt.

  “He’s the one who put this hole in me.”

  Rowan turned back to the scene below, quickly losing count of the twitching figures waiting out in the debris-laden field for their chance to sink their teeth into the captive behind bars. His gut told him Connor might be enough of a bargaining chip for Jonah and Tate, but only if Dr. Olric was still involved. He guessed that the remains of the commission would only be interested in the nexus. Rowan was trying to ignore a nagging feeling that he couldn’t possibly allow Kuru to go free, even if he did help him get his hands on Connor. Kuru’s ominous tone cut through his contemplation.

  “Well, I’ve given you the who and now you have to figure out the how?”

  Rowan studied the barred barrier enclosing the slave camp.

  “Can he get out of there?”

  Kuru shrugged.

  “I think so, he has some kind of key,” he said. “He may have gotten away from me, but he trapped himself in the process.”

  “How did the entrance lock without power?”

  Kuru stood up and started back across the wide-open bay.

  “All I know is that I couldn’t get the gate to open once he got inside.”

  The answer struck Rowan, but he didn’t share it with Kuru. He figured Connor had a security override key. It was the only way to get any of the compound’s doors open without the power systems up and running. Rowan continued his reconnaissance, ending up right back where he started. A spark of possibility came from Asher. Rowan pulled off his backpack and sat it on the floor. He rummaged through the contents until he found what he was searching for.

  “Dynamite,” he said aloud the way he remembered from Asher’s description. “Now what am I going to do with it?”

  Kuru disappeared for a time, leaving Rowan to scout out the bottom of the gorge on his own. The landing offered a full view of the ground from the wall beneath him all the way around to the distant opposite side. Railings dotted the sides of the sheer face running all the way up to the surface of the compound far above. A majority of the simple structures were in ruin from the detonation of the security system. Kuru reappeared with no visible stains to hint at where he’d gone or what he’d done. Rowan got to his feet, still not sure if his plan was going to accomplish any more than getting himself killed. He turned an eye to Kuru’s rigid limbs, seeking confirmation.

  “I’m going to need your help.”

  He led Kuru across the dusty open floor to the long row of containers lined up near the landing. A quick inspection revealed several of them open. The contents had been removed, forcing Rowan to focus on one of the sealed boxes.

  “That one,” he said.

  “What do you want to do with it?” Kuru asked.

  “We need to get inside,” he explained inspecting the edges for a handhold. “If it’s like the ones we found in the other hives, it will have bags of grain inside.”

  Kuru didn’t move.

  “Are you going to make me something to eat?”

  Rowan shot his words back at him.

  “You’re going to have to trust me.”

  Kuru growled under his breath before maneuvering to the far side of the container.

  “Does that side have a handle?” Rowan asked, pulling the bar away from the edge.

  Kuru didn’t respond, but a screeching echo told Rowan he’d found it. The pair moved slowly, each aware of the need for quiet. Kuru’s arms didn’t appear to bend with any real fluency and his mechanical mannerisms were put on full display when they were forced to lift the container lid to keep it from scraping across the floor.

  The effort was rewarded with several bags of grain neatly stacked inside. Rowan pulled the top bag down from the lead stack and let it hit the floor. He guessed two bags would reach the weight he needed, but a new concern crossed his mind. Rowan took a long look at Kuru’s decaying limbs.

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  “I need you to push these,” Rowan said, motioning at the sacks he stacked on the floor.

  “I’m not your slave,” Kuru spat back at him. “Do it yourself.”

  Rowan shook his head then clarified himself.

  “You don’t understand. I need to know that you can push these.”

  Kuru glared at the sacks of grain as if trying to discern if there was some type of trick involved. He threw his hands up and strode forward. He opened then clenched his jaw several times, producing a terrible effect. The act reminded Rowan of one of the dead moving in for a bite on a fresh kill. The display that followed wasn’t as hopeful as Rowan would have liked, but Kuru managed to move the substantial load.

  Rowan joined in and together they slid the bags across the final length to the landing. An inspection of the bottom of the gorge revealed little had changed. Conn
or was sitting in the same position, now picking out the crumbs at the bottom of a bag of rations. The crux of Rowan’s plan would depend on what Connor would do and the end result might leave Rowan trapped out in the open with nothing between him and a few dozen starving infected.

  Rowan relayed his plan to Kuru before focusing on the last ingredient of the strategy. Several ropes lay draped over the railing around the edge of the landing. Most of them clung to the handrail by a makeshift grappling hook. Rowan was forced to use painfully slow movements in order to retrieve one of the ropes without attracting the attention of the infected. Once all of the pieces were in place, he laid the stick of dynamite down next to his dying lantern and turned his attention on Kuru.

  “You know what to do, right?”

  “I can still think for myself.”

  Kuru punctuated his point by tapping himself on the temple with one of his gnarled fingers. The yellowing nail pierced his skin, drawing blood. The display was one Rowan could have lived without.

  “I’m only going to get one try at this,” Rowan said more for himself.

  Kuru looked out at the twitching line of infected.

  “That’s a fact.”

  Rowan set his aim on the barred door entrance of the slave camp. He took several deep breaths before he found the courage to move. He tried not to think of all the things that could go wrong or more importantly the consequences if any of them did. Rowan leapt over the railing with his hands wrapped around one of the ropes. He started his descent as the rope went taut and his weight shifted to his shoulders.

  The moment his feet hit the ground, the infected erupted in glorious delight. Rowan didn’t look; he didn’t need to. The infected were starving and the insatiable lust for blood would drive them toward their fleeing meal in reckless abandonment. Rowan’s voice fought off the heinous howls as he sprinted toward the camp gate.

  “I can get you out of here.”

  Connor didn’t react the way Rowan had hoped. In fact, he didn’t react at all. Connor remained seated in the same position he’d been in from the time Kuru pointed him out. He watched the unfolding event as if the entertainment had been put on display for him. Rowan was nearing the point of no return.

  “I can get you out of here,” he yelled again and the declaration had a similar effect to the first so Rowan altered his approach. He drew his gun from his belt and pointed it directly at Connor as he neared. “I’ll shoot you myself.”

  The new approach elicited a quick response. Connor fumbled around with an improvised crutch lying in the dirt next to him. He used his one good arm to get up on his knee then onto his feet. The rising roar of the coming pack of infected spurred the situation.

  “Get the damn door open, now.”

  Connor hobbled forward. He slipped his hand inside his heavy coat and produced a familiar key. Rowan knew what he was looking at in a single glance. He kept his gun trained on Connor and the two met a foot apart with the thick bars of the gate leading into the enormous cage between them.

  “Hurry up,” Rowan said and Connor nearly dropped the key. “We don’t have time for this.”

  Connor’s head snapped up.

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  Rowan kept quiet as Connor slipped the key into the lock and turned. Connor pulled the gate in and Rowan grabbed him by the arm.

  “No time for introductions,” he said. “Run.”

  They were off without directions. The open view of the dangling ropes provided a sobering view of the infected racing toward them. The severity of Connor’s injuries was quickly apparent. The miscalculation was a dangerous one.

  Rowan lowered his gun, knowing full well he wasn’t going to shoot Connor. He was his most prized possession at the moment. He focused on their goal, pushing Connor in the center of his back. Connor’s stinted leg flung from side to side like a broken wheel. Rowan tried to force him to speed up, but there wasn’t anything more he could do.

  The infected were near and closing in with every breath. Their withered bodies showed the need of their desire. Spastic movements were highlighted by shrieking cries that slammed into the scurrying prey as they ran for their lives. The first of them angled toward the underside of the landing and Rowan knew at once that they wouldn’t make it. Connor tried to slow down, but a well-placed forearm forced him forward.

  “Don’t stop running,” Rowan shouted.

  He raised his gun, wishing for the moment that he’d brought his bow. His first shot missed the target by a wide margin and the second wasn’t much better. A number of the infected adjusted their approach on the fly, leading them directly toward the side of the gorge. Rowan steadied himself and pulled the trigger. The shot missed the head, but an impact at the neck flung the naked aggressor to the ground. The opening cleared the way, but there was no time to spare.

  Connor leapt up on to the rope and struggled to get off the ground. Rowan slipped the gun in his waist and grabbed the line between Connor’s legs. The front row of infected were steps away when he yelled as loud as he could.

  “Now.”

  The response wasn’t as quick as Rowan had hoped. The first of the infected slammed into him, sending his back against the wall. He braced himself as the rest of the pack rushed in. Rowan caught sight of the tied-off sacks of grain in the corner of his eye as they fell off the landing above. The weight pulled the rope tight, yanking Rowan and Connor free from the clutches of the infected. The momentum spurred Connor to move and the duo started up as the sacks hit the ground.

  Connor struggled the rest of the climb. Rowan was forced to keep one hand on his backside to ensure he didn’t tumble down to the waiting pack below. The infected howled up at the dangling morsels, jerking on the line. The constant sway produced another challenge and it wasn’t until Connor grabbed a hold of the railing that Rowan thought they might actually make it. Connor threw himself over the handrail, hitting the landing with a hard thud. Rowan heard him scream before he could see him.

  “Get away from me.”

  Rowan’s eyes reached the railing in time to see Kuru standing over Connor. Kuru’s eyes swelled as he lapped up the fear. Rowan climbed over the rail and stepped between them. Connor struggled to get up as Rowan snatched the stick of dynamite off the floor.

  “He’s with me,” Rowan said, offering Connor a hand. “And you two better start running.”

  Rowan didn’t give any more of a warning. He slid his backpack over his shoulder, picked up the lantern, and lit the dynamite. A spark flashed to life at the head of the wick and Rowan held it out over the railing. He took one last look at the violent gathering beneath him and let go.

  Rowan saw the faint outlines of Kuru and Connor ahead of him. He ran with wild abandon, pushing his legs as fast as his body would allow. The explosion came in waves, the first as a wall of sound and the second as a wave of force. Rowan was flung forward and lifted off his feet. He slid across the dirty floor, skidding to a stop a few feet from the hallway.

  “Are you still alive?”

  The husky tone caused Rowan to open his eyes. He took a moment to ensure he was, in fact, still alive, and better still that he didn’t have any pain save for a busted lip. He picked himself up and dusted himself off. Kuru was across the hall, but there was no sign of Connor.

  “Where’d he go?” Rowan asked, stomping out to meet him. “You didn’t…?”

  Kuru cracked a terrifying smile.

  “Not enough time,” he said. “He kept running.”

  Rowan shot off down the hall and it didn’t take him long to find his mark. Connor had gotten his leg stuck trying to climb up through the ceiling.

  “You’re going to break your neck,” Rowan said. “Give me your hand.”

  Connor took a long look at the edge of the broken ceiling apparently, calculating the odds of getting away on his own. He came to an obvious conclusion and reached back. Rowan fixated on what remained of the man’s other arm. His vision spurred the memory of Mia lobbing it off up to the e
lbow.

  “I’m not following that thing,” Connor said with a measurable amount of contempt. “He’s a monster.”

  Rowan grabbed his hand and pulled.

  “You’re one to talk. You want to get out of here alive?”

  Connor stumbled down to level ground.

  “What makes you think he won’t eat us both?”

  Rowan took a quick peek over his shoulder before answering.

  “He needs me and I need you.”

  Connor didn’t look impressed. Their conversation was cut off when Kuru rushed in behind them.

  “I wouldn’t celebrate just yet.”

  19

  The moon guided the small group as they set out from Canaan. The cold worked its way through the countless layers of clothing heaped on the weary travelers as the wind bit at any exposed skin. Darkness hid the way between the trees along the western edge of the land surrounding the compound, giving rise to countless shifting shadows reaching out into the faint light.

  No one spoke. The travelers moved in a well-spaced line, each of them focusing solely on the figure they were following. There was no illusion about the danger in what they were doing. Mia held herself responsible for the group of ten, even after each of them assured her that the choice to come was their own.

  Mia stepped through the snow with Bree in front of her and Bale behind. Marcus led the entire procession. Mia tried to talk him out of coming, but the scout in him would not be denied the opportunity to get back out in the wild. She was ultimately glad he came. In the short time they’d know one another, he’d proven himself a great asset to the Canaan tribe.

  The group was far beyond the compound ruins when the morning light made its way over the distant mountains. Marcus was convinced they could reach Cheyenne by nightfall, but no one could imagine how hard they’d be pushed in order to make the mark. Time was something Mia didn’t want to think about. The count of three days lingered in her head like a sickness. She had no confidence that Rowan would find the nexus, even if she refused to admit it to the others. She didn’t want to consider what that would mean for Jonah.