Tribes Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 1)

by Michael W. Garza

  “Unfortunately, my child, there is one last thing I must ask you to do.”

  Mia froze unsure of the sudden fear seizing her heart. She looked from her father’s face to Jacob’s distraught gaze then took a deep breath and waited for Arkin to relay his final request.

  13

  “Can you run?”

  Rowan wasn’t looking at Garret, but he knew he’d fallen down. The dead were relentless, driven far more than either of them had ever seen.

  “Give me a moment,” Garret said.

  Rowan slid his face beyond the front end of the rusted-out car they were hiding behind. The first row of decomposing bodies pushed into the street a block away.

  “We don’t have that long.”

  Rowan grabbed Garret by the arm and forced him to stand. He pushed him with one hand to get him moving then started at the slow trot they were forced to keep. Neither of them was in any shape to continue and Rowan figured one of them wouldn’t make it. He was trying to decide which way they should be going; however, his thoughts drifted to Mia. He had to believe she made it out of the city alive, he had to believe she was out there somewhere looking for him.

  “I can’t do this,” Garret declared. His jog slowed to a pitiful walk. “Just go on without me.”

  Rowan considered it for a moment. He didn’t believe Garret would give much thought to his safety, but in the end, he couldn’t do it. His head was shaking before he opened his mouth.

  “We have to find somewhere to hide,” he said, looking along the front of the surrounding buildings.

  “We’ll get trapped.”

  Rowan knew he was right. Once the dead overtook the area, there was no telling if they’d ever be able to get out unnoticed. “There.” His eyes locked on to the bottom landing of a fire escape. They moved toward it and a closer inspection gave them pause.

  “That thing's going to collapse,” Garret said.

  A hint of the approaching wave of dead-speak tickled Rowan’s ears and his determination hardened.

  “We’re out of options,” he said. “You first.”

  Rowan centered himself directly below the corroded opening in the bottom landing then cupped his hands in front of his waist. Garret looked at him then up at the destination.

  “There’s no strength in my legs.”

  “I don’t care,” Rowan said. “Do you hear that?” They stood silent, staring at one another and the sounds of the moaning zombie mass grew with every passing second. “This is what we have, so unless you’ve got a better idea, get over here and give me your foot.”

  Garret took a step forward and placed his boot into Rowan’s palms then laid his hands on his shoulders. He steadied himself and waited.

  “On three,” Rowan said and then started counting without giving them time to think about it. “One…two…three.”

  Rowan drove his hands up and Garret did his best to push off, but the result was something far less than perfect. Garret managed to get one hand onto the edge of the opening in the bottom of the fire escape, but his other hand missed. He was left dangling above Rowan and there was nothing he could do to help him.

  “Pull.”

  Garret didn’t need the direction. He flailed around with his free hand slapping the other side of the opening twice before he was able to latch on. Garret struggled to lift his weight. He pulled with what little strength remained in his arms and shoulders, able to get one of his elbows up to a ninety-degree angle. He forced his arm up ahead of him, sliding it across the rusty, grated metal. He tried to push his other arm over the lip and nearly fell in the process.

  Rowan fluttered back and forth with his arms stretched out as if he might be able to catch Garret if he fell to him. The rising moans clung to the back of his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the spectacle above. He was sure if Garret fell and hit the ground, he wouldn’t be able to get up again.

  “Pull up,” Rowan said and felt dumb the moment it left his mouth. “Sorry.”

  Garret managed to get both arms through the gap and on to the floor grate. He was suspended below the chest when he stopped to try to catch his breath. He took one last gulp then slipped his fingers between the small sections of the grate and pulled. His legs flung from side to side, and then in one swift series of movements he was up through the gap to his waist. He shifted his legs the rest of the way and then rolled onto his back.

  Rowan looked up at him, patiently waiting. The howling calls of dead-speak between the endless moans of the dead rose to a point that suggested they would soon pour into the alleyway between the buildings. Rowan’s patience ran out. “I’m real proud of you,” he said. “How about lending me a hand?”

  Garret sat up then got on his knees and looked down at Rowan as if only then remembering he was there. Garret’s face was pale, his eyes lost to his surroundings.

  “You’re going to have to lean down,” Rowan said, “I can’t jump that high.” He considered running toward the other end of the alley to see if he could push back the small dumpster blocking the way. The first sign of movement at the near end of the ally changed his mind. “All right, this has to happen now.”

  Rowan didn’t have to look. The shuffling walk told him all he need to know about the new arrivals. Garret slid down on his stomach and moved forward until he was hanging out of the opening in the platform, down to his waist. Rowan wasn’t convinced it was enough and his first running jump proved him correct.

  “Come on.”

  Garret followed the shout by leaning out farther, nearly falling in the process. He reached back and held onto the grating with one hand while extending as far down as he could with the other. Rowan stared down the coming wave of putrid flesh. They were packing into the alley, shoulder to shoulder, already four rows deep. His time was nearly up.

  Rowan rushed toward the advancing dead and spun on his heels. He pushed his legs to move faster, launching himself at the last possible moment. Rowan reached as high as his arm would go without pulling his shoulder out of the socket. His palm slapped against Garret’s and the two grabbed a hold a split second before their fingers slid between one another.

  Garret’s grunt told Rowan everything he needed to know. He didn’t have the strength to hold Rowan and he could feel the grip slipping the moment they locked hands. Rowan reached up, grabbed Garret’s wrist with his free hand, and started to climb. Garret was yelling something, but the sound of the dead pushing in underneath them blocked out everything else. His body slid forward as he and Rowan fell.

  Garret’s waist began to slip through the gap in the landing as Rowan pulled one final time, grabbing the lip of the opening with one hand and Garret’s belt with the other. The two dangled from the opening, Rowan by is hand and Garret by his legs. Garret managed to spread his feet wide enough to hold his place before he slipped through the gap and the move saved him from the fall. Rowan shouted out instructions.

  “You reach back.” He wasn’t going to be able to get through the opening with Garret wedged in the center. “I’ll push you.”

  Rowan risked a look below and regretted it the second he took in the view. Several figures swayed beneath them, each reaching out for the living, chomping at the air for a taste. He refocused on Garret as the pain in his shoulders neared a breaking point. He pulled up against Garret using his belt as grip. Garret flung his arms back on either side, taking several swipes at the bottom of the grate. His viewpoint was unavoidable and the refection of the waiting dead highlighted the whites of his eyes.

  It took three swipes before Garret got his hands on the rusty metal. His hold and Rowan’s push gave him enough momentum to pull himself back through the opening. He quickly got to his knees and grabbed a hold of Rowan’s arm with both hands. The death-defying routine ended with one good pull, bringing Rowan up on to the landing. The two sat on their knees looking down on the growing mob of zombies below. Rowan caught enough of his breath to get up on his feet.

  “We have to climb.”

&nbs
p; Garret’s eyes ran the length of the raggedy contraption to the top of the building, another three stories above them. He nodded and managed to stand up on his own.

  “After you.”

  The climb to the top of the building was slow going. Garret’s strength was spent and Rowan’s was getting worse by the minute. Rowan poked his head up over the side of the roof, scanning the lay of the land. The rooftop was void of movement and flat as a board. In fact, the clean surface was an odd finding in a city filled with deserted hiding spots.

  “I have to rest,” Garret said once they stepped up onto the roof. “I’m about to fall over.” He sat down where he was and laid back on the black tar surface.

  Rowan walked to the edge of the roof, looking down on the street in front of the building. The sight was terrifying. The dead filled the road, crammed from one side to the other. It took him a moment to realize that only a small portion had been focused on his and Garret’s ascension. The rest of the horde was moving north. He waved Garret over.

  “Take a look at this.”

  Garret groaned a silent complaint then started to move. He settled in next to Rowan and took in the view.

  “They’re not even following us,” Garret said after a long look. “Where do you think they’re going?”

  Rowan shrugged. They watched the morbid parade until the last stragglers past in front of the building. Rowan divvied up a small portion of the remaining food as Garret settled in. Neither of them said it, but they both appeared to understand that time wasn’t on their side. Rowan took the opportunity to explain what he saw down in the valley beyond the trees.

  “Did you see their faces?”

  Rowan heard the question and knew what it really meant. Garret was looking for his mother. Rowan shook his head then started for the other side of the building. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. There was a good chance that if Mia was alive, she was down in that valley, maybe Jonah too. Something told him that if he ever went back there, he’d never make it out again.

  His dilemma was abruptly interrupted. The view from the far corner of the rooftop included a wide section of the outlands beyond the city boundary. Movement caught his attention and held him still. The infected pushed through the grass in long rows, evenly spaced with several yards between them. The size of the force no longer frightened him, but something between the rows grabbed a hold of his heart.

  “Come here.”

  The words came out in a whisper, as if the distant infected group might hear him. Garret pushed himself up and made his way across the blacktop. The two stood next to one another watching the field in silence. The rows of bodies marched in a uniformity that was difficult to believe. The sudden, sporadic movements between the lines were noticeable outliers.

  “Are those people?” Garret asked.

  Rowan nodded, not entirely sure.

  “Are those our people?”

  “There’s no way to be certain,” Rowan said.

  “What are they doing?”

  The answer struck Rowan with a vicious blow.

  “They’re taking their food with them.”

  Garret’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He swallowed hard and then headed back across the roof.

  “Where are you going?” Rowan asked as he went after him. “You need to rest.”

  “You think they’re going to rest?”

  Garret was at the ladder railing when Rowan finally caught up with him.

  “We don’t even know where they’re going.”

  “Does it matter?” Garret asked. He slipped his leg over the side and found his footing. “There’s nothing left here for us. We’ve got two choices.” He slowly lifted his injured leg between the railings and brought his foot down on a rung. “We follow them or we go back to that place you found.”

  Rowan knew he was right.

  “Which will it be?” Garret asked.

  Rowan looked back at the corner of the roof. The view of the grassland was lost between the taller buildings, but he had a clear picture in his mind. He believed the uprising meant the infected were evolving as Jacob had said. They were flushing every living thing out of the city. He also believed a lack of food supply was the driver behind the shift in behavior.

  “They’ve found something,” he said. “More people, I’d guess.”

  “And the survivors are meant to sustain them until they reach their goal,” Garret surmised.

  Rowan nodded. They were over the side of the railing heading for the alleyway a moment later. There was no sign of the dead, but the silence alone was startling. Rowan dropped down onto the hard alley floor and the impact rode all the way up his spine to the back of his head. He did his best to help Garret soften the blow.

  They headed north along the front face of the building. The dead were easy to find. The mass continued forward like mindless sheep, falling in behind the line of infected now far out in the grassland. Rowan and Garret stopped short of the tall grass barrier and peered back at the city.

  “I don’t think we’re ever coming back here,” Rowan said.

  Garret nodded slowly.

  “There’s nothing left to come back to.”

  They turned their backs on the city for the last time and plunged into the outlands.

  14

  “I…I can’t.” Mia backed away from her father then pushed herself up off her knees. “I can’t do that.” The difficulty of leading the sad remains of her tribe to safety was a forgotten burden. Her father’s last request was beyond anything she could’ve imagined.

  “There’s not much time now,” Arkin said. He tried to pull away from the wall, but lacked the strength to move his weight. “You know what’s going to happen.”

  Mia stared at him with horrified sadness. She couldn’t bring herself to consider his request. Her body trembled as she looked to Jacob for support. The old man wouldn’t look her in the eyes. Arkin’s cough brought her focus back to him. He struggled to get his breathing under control.

  “You must,” he said.

  Mia clenched her fists. She wouldn’t allow herself to break, she couldn’t. She managed to stop her quivering, but her father’s request was still something she couldn’t yet comprehend. How could she kill her own father?

  “It’s time to go,” Arkin said, ignoring Mia’s rebuff. “If the way is clear then you need to move now. There’s no telling how long before another group will pass this way.”

  As he spoke, several veins running down the side of his neck darkened to a deep, violet hue. The sight was more than Mia could take. She turned away from him and headed toward the door. She steadied herself before looking back at the others.

  “Gather your things,” she said. “We’ll go out one at a time. Stay close and be quiet.” A number of the survivors glanced at Arkin before acting on the instructions. Mia settled her mind on her role then looked to Jacob. “Can you take the lead?”

  Jacob was up, nodding as he stepped away from Arkin. He met her at the door.

  “It won’t be fast,” he said.

  Mia nodded.

  “Just keep moving,” she said. “We need to be in a safe place before we lose the light.”

  He pushed on the door and held it open wide enough to look down the road in front of the building. The way was clear. Mia walked in between the people, helping them get their meager things together. She picked out a number of them who looked strong enough to use a weapon. There were an assortment of knives among the belongings and one other bow besides her own. The children needed encouragement to step back out into the open. Mia made sure the last of them were out the door before she built up the nerve to approach her father.

  Arkin was barely breathing. It took him considerable strength to look up at her. The moment they were alone, Mia let down her mask. Her eyes swelled up in an instant and tears ran down her face. Barrick had handed her her father’s weapon in passing. She had fond memories of the sword. Arkin took considerable time showing her how to use it properly when she was
younger. It felt heavy in her hands, the blade hidden within the hand carved sheath.

  She took a step toward Arkin, but couldn’t will herself to continue. He looked up at her with a golden hue covering the whites of his eyes. His mouth opened but he couldn’t speak. Arkin’s shoulders lurched forward and then he fell over on his side. Darkening veins crisscrossed his face and the skin along his exposed chest.

  Mia forced herself to take step toward him then another. She stood over her father, looking down on him through blurry eyes. Arkin groaned a terrible sound and focused his stare on her. Gasping for air and clinging to the last moments of life he managed to get out a single word.

  “Please.”

  ♦

  The line of survivors moved with cautious steps, each one following the figure in front of them. Jacob walked quickly across an open road, urging the others to speed up as they followed. There was no sign of the dead or the infected, but a distant sound of dead-speak hung in the air in every direction. The afternoon light was fading fast and the fear of being caught out in the open after dark clung to everyone.

  Mia walked in a daze, oblivious of her surroundings. Jacob kept close to her, several times having to stop her from walking out into the middle of the street. She’d followed through with her father’s last request and part of her hated him for it. She was incapable of piercing the morbid agony clouding her mind. Jacob understood enough of what she was going through not to ask.

  They continued the forced march until they caught a glimpse of the tall grass of the outlands. The street came to an abrupt end a few blocks ahead of the group. Jacob used Barrick as a mouthpiece, understanding most of the tribe’s members would only take orders from one of their own. The entire formation sat down, leaning against the side of a crumbling building. They quietly worked through what supplies they had, passing the portions around. The heat of the day was gone and the coming darkness led a chilling wind into the city.