Affliction Z Series Books 1-3

by L. T. Ryan

  “We go any further and they might spot us,” Derrick said.

  Sean looked toward the road. They’d lose cover in another quarter-mile. “Pull off here. Drive straight out.” A few minutes later he instructed Derrick to turn left. They hit the woods shortly afterward.

  Derrick slowed down as they passed the first trees. The bright sunlight turned to flickers through green and red and yellow leaves. The man operated the truck as if he were on a slow slalom course, weaving around one tree after another.

  “That’s far enough,” Sean said. “We gotta leave some room to get out.”

  “You’re thinking about coming back here?”

  Sean shrugged. “I don’t know how things are going to go down. It’s just one option.” He opened his door and let himself slide off the seat. Marley hopped down. Sean bent over and scratched the dog on top of the head.

  “You stay with me, but stay quiet.”

  The dog let out a slight whimper in response.

  Derrick’s door opened. Sean heard the leaves crunch under the guy’s weight. Derrick looked up at the trees, then over his shoulder.

  “You hear something?” Sean said.

  Derrick shook his head. “Just looking.”

  “We need to head east north east. Got it?”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  “I’m gonna ask you one more time, Derrick. There’s no traps or anything like that I should be aware of, right?”

  “None.”

  “And outside of the four men around the camp, we aren’t going to run into anyone else?”

  “Four men inside, four outside.”

  “Right.” Sean walked past the truck, stopped and turned back to Derrick. “You walk in front.”

  Derrick took the lead. The two men walked in silence. The air cooled after the first twenty-five yards, and stabilized not much further than that.

  Sean used the compass on the edge of a hunting knife he found in the glove box of the truck to guide them. He estimated the miles they walked by the minutes that passed.

  Roughly a mile and three quarters in, he said, “Let’s stop here.”

  “Why? We’re almost there.”

  “I know. I want to rest for now.”

  “How long?”

  “Until sundown.”

  “Why then?”

  “Sit down and shut up, Derrick. Close your eyes and get some rest if you need to. We’re staying here until I say it’s time to go.”

  The man lowered himself to the ground and leaned back against a tree trunk. Derrick glared at Sean for a few minutes before shutting his eyes and drifting off.

  Sean watched the wavering green canvas in front of him. The sounds of the woods kept him on edge. Twigs snapped frequently, and leaves rustled when the breeze picked up. The flickering sunlight paled. He looked up. Dark clouds moved in. They raced overhead. Precursor to a storm, Sean thought. Hopefully a quick one.

  He fought off the urge to sleep. His body could use it, but it wouldn’t be a good idea under the present circumstances. If someone walked up on them, he wouldn’t know. If Derrick rose, he could disarm Sean and lead him back to the camp as a prisoner. That did no one any good. So Sean kept his eyes and ears open and played mind games to keep himself going. Marley lay down next to Sean’s feet and closed his eyes. The blood stain on the bandage had stopped spreading. Sean wanted to change it before they started moving. He reached down and scratched the top of Marley’s head. He felt more comfortable with the dog around.

  The clouds that gathered grew darker. He managed to track the sun through the sky despite them. The temperature dropped to an estimated cool sixty degrees.

  A skittering sound rose from the south. He hadn’t heard anything like it. The pops and cracks and rustles had become white noise to him. They were the constant in the woods. This was different. It reminded him of a distant helicopter.

  He remained low, keeping his gaze focused on the spaces between the trees. The sound grew louder by the moment.

  “What’s that?” Derrick whispered.

  “Get back here,” Sean replied. “Stay low.”

  Derrick crawled on his belly and stopped next to Sean.

  Marley’s ears perked, and he growled. Sean patted the dog’s head to calm him.

  “Goddamn,” Sean said, not trusting his eyes. “It can’t be.”

  “What?”

  “Look.” Sean pointed ahead. A mob of afflicted shuffled and stomped and staggered and limped through the woods. They headed southeast. Had the men arrived around this time, they would have intersected paths.

  Derrick gasped and started to move backward. He tripped over his feet and fell on his back. A hollow sound escaped through his mouth.

  Sean pounced on the man. He covered Derrick’s mouth with one hand while holding the index finger of his other hand to his own mouth. He knew that these beings were sensitive to sound. Derrick’s clumsiness might have alerted the horde to their presence.

  “In through your nose,” Sean whispered. “Out through your mouth.”

  Derrick breathed as instructed. The redness left his face.

  Sean got to his feet. “Come on, we need to move away from them.” He reached out and helped Derrick up. Heading northeast, Sean glanced back numerous times to make sure they weren’t being followed. If one came within striking distance, he knew it would be over if they moved as fast as the afflicted in Nigeria.

  As he walked, Sean recalled all he could about the experience. So much of it had to be reconstructed after having his version of reality torn to the ground and built back up on a foundation of lies. Some were fast, others weren’t. Some were more human than others. Their eyes stood out. From what he’d seen so far, limited as it was, he’d noticed that with Kathy. They seemed attracted to noise, both loud and abrupt, as well as deep bass-like sounds.

  Where had that mob come from? The neighborhood?

  He guessed it was possible. Perhaps the truck had roused them. That didn’t make sense, though. The angle they walked was off. Then again, perhaps they had only deviated recently, picking up on another scent. He realized that group of afflicted may have been after them after all.

  “If we continue in this direction, what happens?” Sean asked.

  “Well, I guess we hit the road, or we hit the trail in.”

  “It’s visible?”

  “To me it’ll be. To most others, not really. Part of the daily chores is someone keeps it up so it isn’t noticeable.”

  “But there’s no one on it?”

  “Nobody.”

  “All right.” He glanced back. The area behind them was empty. At least, that’s how it looked. “Let’s stop here. We’ll move at dusk.”

  Forty-One

  Turk sat back-to-back with Sarah. It was clear now that she was as much of a prisoner as he was. His wrists were bound. His ankles weren’t. These guys were amateurs. Still, he found himself outnumbered twenty to one. Those odds were not in his favor. They didn’t have to be, though. He only needed to take out as many as it took to get away.

  Three men sat twenty feet away. They paid little attention to their prisoners.

  Turk pulled and twisted and jerked his hands, working the rope to the point where it was loose.

  “Can you sit still?” Sarah said.

  “Quiet,” Turk said. “I’m trying to get us out of here.”

  She lowered her voice. “You’ll get us killed.”

  “I don’t plan on dying. If you don’t want to, then your best bet is to shut up and stay behind me.”

  “They’re all armed. You’ve got nothing.”

  “I got a knife in my boot. That’s enough.” He slipped his left hand through the rope. He drew his right foot back and reached down for the tactical knife hidden inside his sock. Now, he only needed one of the men to approach.

  Rustling in the woods caught his attention. He straightened up, closing his hand around the knife. His bare shoulder blades brushed against her cool, damp shirt. She pr
essed back against him. Turk scanned the area around them, but saw nothing.

  “I’m gonna cut the rope,” he whispered. “Keep your wrists together. After I’m done, I want you to start coughing and gagging, like you’re choking.”

  “What? Why?”

  “That’ll draw one of them over here.”

  “Why don’t we just run?”

  “You wanna get shot?”

  She said nothing.

  “Tell them it’s a bee sting and that you’re allergic, all right?”

  He felt the back of her head rub against his as she nodded. A moment later, she began to cough and hack. Her lower back pressed against his for support as she leaned forward.

  “What the hell is going on over there?” one of the men yelled.

  “She said ‘bee’ and then started freaking out,” Turk said.

  All three men rose. Two walked over. The other jogged off in the other direction. Turk assumed the man left for help. That gave him thirty seconds to work with, give or take. He watched the men approach. One went to Sarah’s left, the other to her right. Turk had to act now.

  He rose quickly, powering himself into the air by launching off his right foot. He sighted the man on Sarah’s left. Before the guy could react, Turk twisted and drove his left hand down at an angle. His thick fist, clenching the folded tactical knife, met the side of the guy’s head near his right eye. Blood sprayed in an arc in Sarah’s direction.

  The other man pushed off his knees and straightened up. “What the hell?” He reached for his holstered sidearm.

  Turk tossed the knife in the air in front of him, catching it with his right hand as he lunged toward the man. The guy barely managed to get a hand to his waist by the time Turk clotheslined him with his left arm. He opened the knife, brought it to the guy’s throat and held it tight to the man’s flesh.

  “Sarah,” Turk said. “You all right?”

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  “He’s got a gun on his hip. Take it, then take the one from the guy on the ground. I want you to put one in my right pocket, handle out. Got it?”

  “Yeah.” She stepped around Turk and did as instructed.

  He felt the heft of the pistol weighing down his pants, reassuring him. “Okay, now, aim that other one at this guy’s head while I grab that one you just gave me.”

  She emerged from behind him, gun drawn and aimed at the guy.

  Turk closed the knife and passed it off to his left hand. It might come in handy soon. He retrieved the pistol from his pocket and held it to the guy’s head.

  The man breathed heavily, grunting and groaning. Other than that, he cooperated.

  Turk started to walk backward. “Get behind me, Sarah.”

  Through the trees, more men approached, including the guy who had killed Marcus. It took every ounce of will power Turk had to keep from shooting the man. He couldn’t. At least, not yet. He had to get Sarah out of here. Now that he knew where the men camped, he could return late at night and take them all out while most of them slept.

  Three men stepped into the clearing. Four more followed. There were others coming up from behind. They were armed with rifles, pistols and shotguns. A couple had submachine guns.

  “Back off,” Turk said. “I won’t hesitate to shoot him.”

  The guy who’d killed Marcus laughed as he stepped forward. “You think we care if you shoot him? Shit, I’ll do it for you.” The man hoisted his rifle up and aimed in Turk’s direction.

  “I’m not kidding,” Turk said.

  “Neither am I. So if you’re going to do it, do it.”

  Turk didn’t move. Sarah’s hot breath hit his upper back in quick spurts. He reached behind and gestured for her to take a few steps back.

  “Now, you might have been tough enough to watch your brother die, but I doubt the others inside that bunker could handle the same happening to you. I know they’ll cave and open up for us. So, here’s how this is gonna work. You go ahead and kill him. Or let me. Doesn’t matter. Then, when we get inside your place, I’ll make you watch me slaughter every last person in there. We’ll keep you alive for a few weeks afterward. I figure a guy like you has a wife or a kid in there. You’d have to in order to sacrifice your brother, right?”

  Turk said nothing. Anger clawed through him. His finger pressed against the trigger, removing any remaining slack.

  “Now, you let my man go, and you’ll get the quick death after we gain access. All your people will be allowed to leave peacefully. The women will have an opportunity to stay of course.”

  “Goddamn you,” Turk said. “I’m gonna fucking kill you…” Something caught his attention.

  “Oh, is that right? Well, you might succeed. Hell, it’d probably be doing me a favor.” The guy laughed.

  Turk didn’t. He barely heard the man speaking. Behind the group opposite him, the forest moved like a rapidly flowing stream. He squinted. His grip relaxed on the man. Faces emerged from the green and brown canvas. Before he could shout an instinctive warning, two men flew backwards. Their screams, high and shrill, pierced the quiet landscape. Turk imagined the gaping wounds and spraying blood. It wasn’t hard to do. He’d seen it before.

  The other men spun around. They found themselves face to face with a horde of the afflicted. Some started firing. Others froze. They didn’t last long. Those things knew to descend upon the weak.

  “Run, Sarah.” Turk cocked his arm back and drove the pistol into the side of the man’s head, letting him crumble to the ground. He turned and sprinted toward Sarah. When he caught up, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “You gotta go faster.”

  “I’ll fall,” she said, panting.

  “Can’t worry about that. I got you. Go all out.”

  They raced through the woods. Turk knew those things were capable of moving at a high rate of speed, even if just in short bursts. He hadn’t seen it happen yet, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t. Turk had no intentions of being around when they did.

  After a quarter-mile, Sarah stumbled and fell to the ground. Turk’s sweaty hand couldn’t hang on. He stopped, turned her over and assessed her for any injuries. Her knees, elbows and forearms were scraped, but not severely. Her breathing was ragged. She gasped for air.

  “Do you have asthma?” he asked.

  She shook her head in short bursts.

  “Get the wind knocked out of you?”

  She nodded.

  “Easy, Sarah.” He lifted her up and kept going, moving at a fast pace. They needed distance.

  “I’m fine now,” she said a couple minutes later. “You can put me down.”

  Turk set her down. He leaned his head back and took a few deep breaths.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “This kind of thing used to be a picnic for me,” he said.

  She gave him a curious look.

  “I was a SEAL for twenty years.”

  She took a seat on a fallen log. “So that’s why you weren’t afraid.”

  Turk leaned back against a tree trunk. “No such thing. The trick is controlling the fear. You let it take hold of you, and you’re a dead man. Or woman.”

  “Well,” she said, “I was scared and I couldn’t control it. I ran ‘cause you said to run.”

  Turk let the quiet pervade for a few moments. “What’s your story, Sarah?”

  “My story? Like, my life story?”

  “Yeah, but starting a week or so ago.”

  She kicked her legs and placed both hands palms down on the log. “I guess we can start the day the world went crazy. I got kicked out of college last year. My folks told me to stay in Charleston. They didn’t want me back home. So I did the normal thing, waiting tables at two different restaurants, one at breakfast, the other at night. I saw the reports right before I left work. People started freaking out. I tried calling my parents, but couldn’t get through. I hung around for a couple days, but it was obvious things were worse than they first reported. I still couldn’t get through to my p
arents. So some guy offered me a ride on the back of his Harley. Figured I’d ride to Atlanta.”

  “What happened that you ended up here?”

  “We came across a group of those crazy people. You know the ones who got all sick and wanted to eat everyone else? Anyway, the guy I was with, he slowed down his motorcycle, told me to get off. I did. He went charging toward the group. No clue what he was thinking. Two of them took the brunt of the impact. The others piled on him. I hopped the guardrail and fled into the woods. Thought, well, hell, I’ll just keep walking west. As long as I kept the highway close by, I’d be all right. You know, that way I’d miss anyone traveling on the road, and the woods would provide me with cover.” She drew her legs in and crossed her arms over her knees. “These guys found me while I was sleeping. I managed to get away. Then you came along. Now here I am.”

  Turk nodded and said nothing.

  “What about you?”

  “Same.”

  She laughed. “Come on, I told you my story. It’s your turn.”

  “Some other time.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously.” He paused a beat. “I’m not trying to brush you off. I need to focus. And we need to get moving again.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “We’re gonna head that way for a bit. I don’t think those things are gonna follow us, but if they do, we’re better off not walking in a straight line. Plus, that’ll help us circle back to my bunker.” He walked over and held out his hand. “Ready?”

  She nodded as she took his hand.

  They walked quickly and quietly. Turk scanned the area ahead and to the sides. Occasionally, he tossed a glance over his shoulder. They were alone. At least, it seemed that way.

  “Got any family?” she asked.

  “Wife and daughter. You’ll meet them soon.”

  “You sure you have room in this bunker for me?”

  Turk thought about his brother’s room. “Yeah, we got room for you. Even if we didn’t, you think I’d just leave you outside or send you on your way to Atlanta?”

  She shrugged. “You don’t know me from Adam. And you don’t owe me anything.”

  “You’re coming. That’s the end of it. Let’s just walk.”