Affliction Z (Book 3): Descended in Blood

by Ryan, L. T.

  A dog barked, then whined.

  “That’s Marley. Jesus, I thought he was dead.” She crawled along the floor until she reached the trap door. She pushed against it, but it wouldn’t budge. “Jenny, come help me.”

  The two women tried to dislodge the door, but it wouldn’t give.

  Addison placed her lips next to the door seam. “Marley, get outside, buddy.”

  His footsteps traced toward the front of the house, and then he was gone. She hoped he’d find his way to the ATV and wait there.

  Addison panned her light across the crawlspace and honed in on the rear access. “I’m just going to go check it out. Take the light and keep it focused over there.”

  Jenny took the flashlight. “Okay.”

  Addison crawled along the floor. Water had leaked in and pooled in spots on the sheet of plastic that lined the floor. It felt refreshing and creeped her out at the same time. There had been an afflicted living in the cabin. Was there any chance the virus remained close and came in with the water?

  She wished she understood more about what had happened. It seemed Sean knew, but he said little about it.

  Addison stopped when she reached the crawl access. It was sealed shut, with only a slight ingress of breeze from outside. The wind knifed around her forehead. She placed her ear near the seam and closed her eyes.

  A buzzing rode the cool current.

  “Shit.”

  “What is it?” Jenny asked.

  “I think we’ve got visitors out there.” She scurried across the plastic, now glad for the puddles as they allowed her to skim across the floor. “Everyone stay quiet. Don’t move, talk, sneeze or yawn.”

  The hum increased up in volume and intensity. Shrieks erupted from beyond the walls and above the floorboard. The afflicted filled the house, shuffling and staggering. Dozens of heavy thumps and scrapes and scratches echoed throughout the crawlspace.

  Emma clung to Addison. Paige to Jenny. The women wrapped their arms around the girls while holding tight to their M4s. There were only two ways in. They had them covered.

  Unless…

  Addison didn’t allow her thoughts to go there. Not consciously, at least. But she knew that if the afflicted smelled them, or sensed them, or whatever it was that they did, those damned beings would claw their way through the hardwoods if they had to.

  She fought to keep from flinching at every noise above. As the minutes passed, it sounded as though more afflicted had filled the cabin. There were growls, and indecipherable yells and screams. It sounded as though a fight had broken out. Bodies slammed into walls. The table above them scraped the floor. Windows shattered. The back door burst open. Something heavy hit the floor next to the table.

  The fridge, perhaps?

  Something leaked through the floor. It hit the top of Addison’s head. She shuffled a few feet over as the liquid crawled down her forehead and cheek. She wiped it off, refusing to attempt to determine what it was.

  The footsteps gravitated toward the rear of the house. The sounds dampened at the back door. A stray scratch or thump mixed with the sounds of steps near the back door.

  Addison stared at the crawlspace access. She knew it was going to burst open and one by one, the afflicted would crawl through. They had fewer than sixty shots between them. All the spare ammunition remained with the ATV unless Sean had moved it.

  If he had, he hadn’t left it with her.

  But the door never opened.

  The buzzing persisted for an hour. Felt like forever, as the afflicted roamed around outside. A few reentered the house, but only to cross from front to back.

  As the seconds passed, the hum faded, eventually replaced by another wave of thunder and lightning and heavy rain slamming against the cabin’s walls and roof. The storm had driven them away.

  Emma fell asleep in Addison’s arms, and Paige in Jenny’s. Addison waited until all three were asleep, then reached the point where she could no longer fight off the fatigue.

  Chapter 27

  For the first half hour of the drive, Sean received a blow to the head if he so much as cleared his throat. Fist. Backhand. Rifle butt. They came from one of three men, with Phil doling out most of the punishment.

  They had bound Sean’s hands and shoved him into the rear of the cab. On his right sat Ralph, who he’d met at Phil’s camp. He didn’t recognize the man on the other side. Phil had called the driver Barton when they were leaving.

  The men stunk like raw earth and rotten fruit. Even after thirty minutes, Sean hadn’t adjusted to the smell.

  Rain fell in sheets as lightning pummeled the surrounding area. The engine muffled some of the thunder, but at times it ricocheted so loudly the men jumped at the cracks. Gusts of wind rocked the truck. Barton corrected the wheel constantly to keep the truck from sliding into a ditch.

  From where he sat, Sean had a view of the gas gauge. Less than half a tank remained. Might not be enough to get back to Virginia. The trucks were four wheel drive, equipped with big V-8 engines. They weren’t new, either. Late eighties or early nineties models. Sean figured they got eight to ten miles to the gallon. And though he’d traveled the distance in the ATV, at that moment he couldn’t determine how many miles they had to drive to get back. All along, Sean’s focus had been on getting to Turk’s compound. Anything behind was left in the past.

  Forgotten.

  He struggled not to do that now. Because what he had left behind would drive him forward and get him out of this situation alive.

  He wondered if the women had left the cabin yet. He wasn’t sure whether he feared them staying or going more. Outside, they would have to deal with the storm, afflicted, and other survivors, though the weather might beat back the latter two. Inside, would they have to face the men he was with again? What about afflicted or survivors seeking shelter?

  Addison was a smart woman. She’d ride out the storm before leaving. They were safe underneath the house. The men hadn’t discovered the hatch. The crawl access was invisible from the outside. Even if another group of people or afflicted found the house, they’d never locate the women.

  If Sean could escape from the truck, he might be able to make it back in time.

  If he had his leg.

  Where had they put it?

  He’d lost sight of the prosthetic after Phil had the men remove it. It wasn’t in the cab. God forbid they left it at the cabin. It was tough enough making it in this world with two good legs, let alone a titanium one. He was as good as dead without it.

  Perhaps that was the plan. Phil had decided to drop him off in the middle of nowhere. Some place he knew afflicted had passed through. With no options other than to hop or crawl, Sean would perish.

  He summoned the strength to suffer another beating. “Why are you doing this?”

  Ralph drove his elbow into Sean’s side. Pain flashed through his ribs and he buckled to his right, onto the guy. Ralph pushed Sean away by jamming his elbow into the same spot. Sean bowed forward. Calloused fingers ran along his forehead and through his hair. They tightened, then jerked his head back. Phil had turned in his seat and the two men were eye to eye. His hot stank breath surrounded Sean’s face.

  “I treated you as an equal,” Phil said. “Gave you supplies, weapons, and suitable transportation. You screwed me in response.”

  Sean gritted his teeth. “How?”

  “You led those damn afflicted to me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Sean wrenched himself free of the man’s grasp. “They were in the woods. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. They were already descending upon you.”

  “Don’t waste your breath, Ryder. I’m not listening to your lies.”

  “You damn fool. You built that community above ground, no thought to waste or security. What did you think was going to happen? If your brother and his men couldn’t survive these things, what made you think your ragtag group—”

  Phil smashed his fist into Sean’s face. Pain plowed through his nose and cheeks
.

  “Don’t you speak about my brother again.”

  Sean reeled back. Blood pooled on his upper lip, then cascaded over and around. He licked at the thick, salty fluid.

  “Where’s my leg?” Sean said.

  Phil turned away in his seat and said nothing.

  “What’d you do with it?”

  Phil still said nothing.

  “Dammit, Phil. Where is it?”

  Without looking back, Phil said, “Forget about the leg, Ryder. It’s gone. Men behind us took it with instructions to chuck it five minutes after we left that cabin.”

  Sean’s stomach knotted at the confirmation of his fear.

  “Not like you’re going to need it, anyway.”

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  “Might just dump you over the next bridge we cross. Tied hands and one leg should be enough to finish the job in a couple minutes.” Phil turned his head, a smile plastered on his bearded face. “But that wouldn’t be fair to those folks who lost kin ‘cause of you. Now would it?”

  Keep me alive, you son of a bitch. You’ll pay for it.

  “I’m sure the punishment they dream up will be more than suitable.”

  “Just let me go, man. Like you said, tied arms and one leg, I’m done for. Even out in the open. First afflicted that comes along, I’m breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

  “Not with a missing leg, you’re not,” Phil said. “More like an appetizer.”

  The men in the truck got a chuckle out of his comment.

  Sean hoped his antics had cemented in Phil’s head that they’d take Sean to the camp. Was he better off for it? Perhaps not, but the longer they rode together, he felt he had a chance to overcome them.

  The weather intensified over the next five minutes. Hail bounced off the truck, cracking the windshield on the upper right corner. A small tree snapped in front of them. It hit heavy power cables. They sagged, but stopped the tree from blocking the road.

  “Maybe we should hole up, Phil,” Barton said.

  “Keep going.”

  “This ain’t no regular storm, man.”

  “I said, keep going.”

  “All right, fine, whatever.”

  Keeping the vehicle straight turned into a chore for Barton. The man hovered over the steering wheel. His arms bowed out to the side, hands wrapped around the wheel at ten and two. He jerked it left and right, correcting every time the truck was blown off course.

  Sean glanced back, saw two sets of headlights behind them. They’d fallen behind some, no doubt the drivers of those vehicles had no choice but to follow.

  Let them fall back even further. Makes it easier for me.

  He’d rather deal with four men than twelve or however many were packed into the other pickups.

  As the minutes passed, the storm lulled Sean into a serene state. His training and instincts kicked in. He’d been taken prisoner once as a PJ. It had been early in his career, on a mission in Syria that probably only fifteen people knew about. He’d gone in to save a pilot who had ejected from his F-18 moments before it had crashed. As a result, the pilot had come in too hot and suffered what turned out to be life-ending trauma. Sean had found the man dead. And then they had found him. He had spent two weeks, starved and tortured, before Turk lead a squad from SEAL Team 8 and rescued Sean.

  “Don’t see them anymore.”

  Roused from his memories, Sean opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of Barton staring in the rear-view.

  Phil slugged one arm around and turned in his seat. He peered past Sean into the black.

  “Could be due to the rain,” Phil said. “Blocking the view.”

  Barton shook his head. “Doesn’t feel right, man. Something’s wrong.”

  “What are you suggesting we do? Turn around?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

  Phil placed his hand on Barton’s shoulder. “We keep moving forward. I’m sure they’re only slowed down by the weather.”

  “That’s a lot of men back there. Imagine what my camp is going to say when we come home without them? You think they’re gonna take kindly to bringing this guy back if it means we lost brothers, husbands, fathers?”

  My camp?

  Sean pieced together the puzzle. The night Sean was at Phil’s camp, the man had mentioned they had another settlement established. And now Sean understood that Barton was in charge there. And after weeks of being the leader, he was forced to succumb to Phil’s wishes. If Sean could widen the fracture between the two men with a simple bending of the truth, he might be able to force his way out of the truck. Conditions were less than ideal, but he’d rather die at the hands of nature than by Phil’s doing.

  “When I was in Nigeria,” Sean said. “We encountered these things, the afflicted. Crazy thing was the weather. We were camped out on a ridge near the facility.” He shifted his gaze and met Phil’s as lightning flashed close by and lit up the cab. “The one where they killed your brother. Anyway, damn rain came down almost as intense as this.”

  “So?” Phil said.

  “So, it whipped the afflicted into a frenzy. They went nuts, attacking each other, and then us. The most violent I saw them. It seemed as though the weather made them more aggressive, stronger.”

  “What are you getting at?” Phil asked.

  “What if something blocked the road back there and held up the trucks? And what if something else came along at the worst possible moment?”

  “What if, what if,” Phil muttered. “What if I shove a rifle muzzle into your mouth and pull the trigger?”

  Sean shrugged. “Would save me the torture of having to smell you four assholes.”

  Phil moved with speed that belied his physical stature. He turned around in his seat and lashed out with his right hand. But as fast as the man performed the actions, Sean saw it coming and leaned to his left. Phil struck the rear windshield. The glass cracked under the power of his punch. Phil called out in pain.

  The truck whipped left, then right, turning around.

  “The hell?” Phil said, propping himself up.

  “We have to make sure they’re okay,” Barton said.

  Phil forgot about Sean and threw his weight into Barton. The truck jerked to the left, then hydroplaned.

  On Sean’s right, Ralph slumped over after his head slammed into the window with a thud. The guy on Sean’s left clutched to Barton’s seat.

  Sean placed his foot on the ground and pressed his hands into the seat behind him, forcing his body up. He drew his head forward, then whipped it into the man next to him. Sean’s forehead caught the guy on the bridge of his nose. The man grunted, then went limp.

  Barton tried to steer with one hand and fight Phil off with the other, while Phil delivered blow after blow to Barton’s head, chest, and stomach.

  Flashes of lighting lit the surrounding area enough for Sean to see that they were heading for the embankment. The shoulder faded into the darkness of a ditch.

  Sean shifted back into the seat, then flung his body forward, driving his shoulder into Phil’s side, sending the man into the dash. Phil managed to wrap his hand around the back of Barton’s neck and pulled him along. The truck lurched again, sending Sean into the rear window. Already weakened by Phil’s punch, the window shattered. Shards of glass sliced into Sean’s back and arms, re-aggravating his earlier injuries.

  Barton had lost control of the vehicle. Worse, it seemed his foot had pressed down on the gas. The engine revved and the truck entered a counterclockwise spin.

  Sean dragged his arms along the jagged remains of the window in an attempt to slice through the zip ties that bound him. He received a few more gashes in his arm for the effort.

  The truck dipped as it slipped off the edge of the road and onto the gravel shoulder. The tires crunched on the rock. They were only a few feet from the ditch.

  Sean forced himself into the seat and wedged himself between Ralph and the other guy. Everything happened in slow motion. The
truck tipped sideways then rolled. The embankment was steeper and longer than he had anticipated. Bodies were flung around the cab. Sean hit his head on the seat, the roof, another passenger. Every muscle in his body clenched. He tried to get his hands around his sides. The zip tie gave an inch, but before he could free his hands, he was tossed to the front of the cab, then thrown back into the rear windshield again.

  The truck came to a stop, teetering on the roof. The tailgate touched the ground. Sean heard water rushing past. He was half in the cab, half in the bed. He realized he didn’t just hear water, he felt it. Cold and moving fast across his forehead. Aside from the sensation, he felt numb.

  Christ, am I paralyzed?

  Chapter 28

  The engine revved with a high-pitched whine, competing with the sound of rushing water. Darkness interspersed with brief flashes of lightening. Behind Sean, the men moaned, groaned, pleaded for help. One sounded like he was choking. He was drowning. They hadn’t come to rest in a ditch. They were on a riverbank and half the truck was submerged.

  The numbness faded. Pain flooded every nerve in his body. He felt beaten and battered, but he was alive and could move his hands, foot, fingers and toes.

  Then Sean had the distinct feeling that the truck was moving. The ground shifted underneath as the truck was pulled into the current. The roof dragged along the bottom.

  He fought against the heavy-duty strap of plastic that bound his wrists. There was wiggle room, but not enough. He decided if he couldn’t get his arms free, he’d crawl through the window, into the truck bed. He had a better chance of escaping through there than he did in the cab.

  He tried to shift his leg. A heavy weight made it difficult to move. He managed to move enough to look back. An unconscious Barton pinned Sean’s leg between the front seats.

  The truck was pulled out further. The bed now sat on the water’s surface. It went black inside. The rush of water sounded like a waterfall. If Sean could get through the window, he could sink into the river and be free of the men.

  Echoes of thunder rattled the cab and truck bed.

  He couldn’t tell which direction the truck faced, or which way it floated. It was going under, though. Water kissed his cheeks and lips. Time worked against him.