Tribes Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 1)

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Tribes Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 1) Page 25

by Michael W. Garza


  Mia continued her motion around, quickly finding the glowing button on the console. Rowan and Jonah were yelling at her, but she couldn’t process what they were saying. The haunting echo of dead-speak rushed into the room from outside in the hall. The end was near and she knew precisely what she must do.

  Mia slammed her hand down on the button and everything went silent. A pulsing wave of energy struck her in the chest, forcing the air from her lungs. She let go of everything as the ground rose up beneath her feet. She felt Jonah wrap his arms around her a moment before everything went dark.

  27

  The world came back in waves. At first, there was only sound then sparks of light. The sounds grew louder before the light intensified. Reality filtered through a dizzy haze until the light remained and shapes formed. The voice was familiar, but the connection took a moment longer.

  “Don’t try to get up.”

  The shape hardened and the connection solidified.

  “Mia?”

  Rowan didn’t recognize the sound of his own dry, cracking voice. Mia smiled at him and brushed the hair from his face. Scratches marred her perfect skin. It was a while longer before the memory of what happened in the security station reformed in his mind.

  “Try to relax,” she said as she sat down next to him.

  Several people walked around them, but Rowan didn’t recognize their faces. It was another memory that brought a sudden fear to his heart.

  “Jonah?”

  He tried to sit up, but Mia’s well-placed hand on his chest easily kept him down.

  “He’s fine,” she assured him. “There’s too much to tell, rest now.”

  Rowan wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the strength or the words. Exhaustion tugged at his mind and the more he tried to remember, the wearier he grew. He managed to drink from a cup with Mia’s help. Somewhere in the moments after his head laid back down on the pillow, he gave in to his fatigue and closed his eyes.

  ♦

  Rowan sat up and lifted his legs off the side of his cot. He’d been awake for a while. There was nothing familiar about his surroundings. The far side of the room was partially buried and an early-morning light filtered in from the wide missing section of the ceiling.

  The rest of the makeshift infirmary was filled with rows of cots. Each bed held an injured occupant most of them in much worse shape than him. Rowan tested his limbs and quickly discovered that everything hurt, but at least he appeared to be in working order. His throat was painfully dry. He eyed a table against the far wall and a jug on top that he hoped was filled with something.

  He had a vague memory of the event’s preceding his awakening. Rowan wouldn’t guess at the impact of the explosion. He was sure Mia and Jonah were safe and for now that was enough for him. The bottoms of his feet touched the cold floor and he had to tap them several times before he could lay them down for good. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to stand, but he wasn’t willing to call out for help.

  A single grunt escaped his lips as he forced his muscles to act. The pain was more than he imagined, but he managed to remain standing. The first few steps were slow going. He crossed the room with as much grace as someone ready to fall over, reaching the table with a deep sigh. He grumbled to himself upon discovering that the jug was empty.

  “You could have asked.”

  He recognized Jonah’s voice before he saw him. The boy climbed the rest of the way down through the collapsed sections of the ceiling and greeted Rowan with a hug.

  “There’s more over there,” Jonah said, pointing to another table. “Can you get back to your cot by yourself?”

  Rowan rested his hands on his hips and stretched his back.

  “I think I’ll stand for a while.”

  Jonah ran to the other table, slipping between the closely positioned cots. Rowan’s eyes went from one bed to the next and he found a number of the wounded were still clothed in the black fatigues of the compound’s soldiers. He held on to his questions and waited.

  “Here you go.”

  Rowan took the drink and downed it with ferocity. The simple refreshment brought a surge to his senses.

  “How long has it been?” he asked.

  “Three days,” Jonah said. “You really should sit down.”

  “I’d rather see your sister,” Rowan said. “Is she up yet?”

  Jonah laughed.

  “She’s always up,” he said then glanced back at the open end of the room. “There’s a gathering this morning. You should really be a part of it.” He considered something quietly before continuing. “She’ll probably kill me if I help you get up there.”

  Rowan put a hand on his shoulder.

  “You let me handle her,” he said, smiling.

  Rowan followed him across the infirmary, keeping his hand on his shoulder for extra balance. A closer inspection proved that the makeshift stairs leading up topside was a formidable climb. The ascension consisted of a sizable pile of rubble, most of which used to be part of the ceiling in some form or fashion. Rowan doubted he’d reach the top without implementing some type of hands and knees technique.

  Jonah started with the spry movements of a deer prancing easily up a sloping hill. Rowan on the other hand failed miserably. Every rock wobbled the moment his foot tapped the cold surface and it wasn’t long before he was on all fours. Jonah was polite enough not to make fun of him, although he did ask if he needed help a handful of times before he reached the top. He offered Rowan a hand when he was within reach. Rowan waved him off, but lacked the air to reply for several moments.

  “Let me catch my breath,” he said, stopping where he was. He made sure he wasn’t going to pass out before finally taking the assist. “Now I see why I wasn’t supposed to be moving yet.”

  Jonah laughed, but managed to help him up the rest of the way. Rowan got to his feet and brushed himself off. He stood up straight and his spine popped as if it might crumble at any moment. It took several long breaths before the pain running up and down his body subsided. A final moment of clarity clued him into his surroundings and the sight shocked his system.

  The first view of what was left of Canaan was difficult to comprehend. The walls of the once mighty compound lay in complete ruin. The surrounding earth was scorched black as a night’s sky, dotted at irregular intervals with an uncountable number of charred bodies. The grounds were in total disarray and the destruction so complete that it was difficult to understand how anyone survived. Fractures crisscrossed the dirt in every direction, each fissure eventually working their way to a cavernous hole that appeared to drop down into an endless sea of black.

  Rowan had to remind himself to breathe. He let his eyes drift and take in the movement all around him. Several groups of people gathered among the destruction, the largest cluster close to the opening above the infirmary. It took a yank from Jonah to get his feet moving again.

  “That’s where we pulled you out of,” Jonah said.

  The boy pointed at a crumbled section of metal, most of it buried beneath several feet of dirt.

  “Weren’t you next to me?”

  It took a moment for Jonah to understand what he was asking. He shook his head slowly.

  “You must have been thrown,” Jonah said although it sounded more like a question. “We were way over there.”

  Rowan’s eyes ran the distance between their location and a point closer to the edge of the massive hole. He studied the expanse and wondered how he didn’t break every bone in his body.

  “I still had my arms around her.” The comment pulled Rowan’s focus onto Jonah. “Mia,” he continued. “My arms were around her waist when they dug us out.”

  The thought brought a smile to Rowan’s face.

  “Who are all of these people?” he asked.

  A motley crew of several dozen stood around a large fire, most broken into smaller factions. Closer inspection revealed a number of them dressed in soldier’s gear and others the compound workers uniforms; the remainder wo
re familiar tribal ware. A second look at the soldiers caused Rowan to pause. Jonah kept walking and he didn’t realize that he was alone until he reached the outer ring of gatherers. The boy spun around and held his hands out by his sides.

  “Hey?”

  Rowan waved him back and a quick run brought them together again.

  “What happened to you?”

  “What are the soldiers doing here?” Rowan asked, now more confused than ever.

  Jonah glanced at the congregation.

  “Mia said they could stay.”

  Rowan was speechless. Jonah pulled on him again.

  “Come on, you need to talk to her,” Jonah said. “We have to hurry up, she’s getting ready to speak to everyone.”

  Rowan wasn't sure he understood what any of it meant. Another quick look around showed that most of the other survivors were heading toward the largest of the gathering points. He stumbled when he started walking again. Jonah was in a hurry, whatever was about to happen, it brought with it a noticeable change in the crowd. The chatter grew as the gathering swelled and the buzz of what was coming resonated throughout. Everything swirling through Rowan’s mind came to a complete stop at the sound of another familiar voice.

  “I should kick you in the butt.”

  He saw Mia’s smile then found her eyes as she worked her way through the crowd toward him. She slid her hand lovingly over Jonah’s shoulder before embracing Rowan. The sudden impact paled in comparison to the kiss that followed. Rowan was lost and he had no interest in finding himself. It was only him and Mia again. She had to step away to bring him back to the moment.

  “I guess kicking you would only make it worse,” she said with a grin.

  He beamed back at her.

  “I’ve been told that I have a problem with authority.”

  Mia’s smile widened.

  “Don't I know it,” she said then shifted gears. “How are you feeling?”

  Rowan looked down at his dirty, tattered clothes and shrugged.

  “Terrible, but happy to be alive.”

  “I’m with you on that one,” Jonah said before excusing himself with a nod. “I'm going to help Agnes. I know she wants to hear you speak.”

  Rowan waited until the boy was out of earshot.

  “How the hell did we survive all of this?”

  He motioned at the surrounding destruction.

  “I don't really understand it myself,” Mia admitted. “We were buried and probably would have died had it not been for the others digging us out.” She pointed back in the direction he'd come. “The ground cracked above the infirmary,” she swallowed hard, “killing several of the remaining Cheyenne members. But those who survived were able to get topside. They were the ones that started digging people out.”

  Rowan was surprised to hear that any of his tribe had survived the exodus of Cheyenne, but his mind focused on one name in particular.

  “Arkin?”

  Mia’s smile faded the moment the name left his lips. He didn’t need to hear her response. In all of the chaos of their reunion, he’d forgotten to ask. He silently cursed himself for the selfish oversight. She shook her head and Rowan quickly changed the subject.

  “Who are all of these people?”

  It took a moment for Mia to blink back to the present. She struggled to keep her emotions in check. A swipe of her hand across her eyes was the only indication of the true depth of her sadness.

  “They’re what's left of us,” she said. “There was some fighting after the detonation, but it was settled quickly. Most of the survivors were focused on saving as many people as they could.”

  Rowan looked over the devastation.

  “We did all of this?” he asked at nearly a whisper. It was difficult to imagine how the single push of a button could produce such an event. “What happened to the swarm…all of the infected…,” he stumbled over the words, “the dead?”

  “They were destroyed,” she said. “Most of them reduced to little more than ash blowing in the wind.”

  It was difficult for Rowan to wrap his mind around the idea.

  “Most of the survivors were further underground,” she said. “At least the ones we’ve found. Four of the six hives of the colony were cut off from the surface. There's no way to tell how many are alive down there.”

  “What is that?” he asked, pointing out at the enormous hole in the ground.

  “That was our escape route.”

  It took another look for Rowan to make the connection.

  “Is that the shaft we climbed, with all the platforms?”

  She nodded.

  He felt compelled to reach out and touch her. The moment his fingers slid over her hips, she moved closer to him. Her face lit up and Rowan’s heartbeat quickened, thumping in his ears. He didn’t ever want to let her out of his sight again.

  “You’re not the same person you were the last time I saw you,” he said. He didn’t know why he said it, but he could plainly see the glow of confidence in her eyes. She looked directly at him and the ferocity was nearly overwhelming. “I thought I lost you.”

  Mia grinned.

  “Not a chance.”

  They stood silent for a moment, each basking in the closeness. An escalating murmur from the growing multitude ended the moment and Rowan begrudgingly let her go.

  “I think they’re waiting on you,” he said.

  Jonah popped out from the edge of the crowd and waved Mia over.

  “Agnes asked me to say something to the survivors,” she said.

  The number of eyes staring at her grew by the second.

  “I think my new job will be keeping you safe,” Rowan thought about it. “And not just for myself.”

  Her lips parted in another wide beam then she leaned in and gave him a kiss.

  “As soon as I’m done, your butt’s going back to bed.”

  Mia spun around before he could offer a rebuttal. Jonah called out to him as Mia headed around the edge of the gathering.

  “Let’s get up close,” Jonah said, “I want to make sure we can hear everything.”

  There was a noticeable excitement in the air above the crowd as Mia made her way to the front of the assembly. Rowan was taken aback by the sudden recognition of her importance to the people. He and Jonah jostled their way to the front line and waited. Butterflies churned in Rowan’s gut as Mia slipped between the front rows and stepped out into the open.

  ♦

  Mia looked over a sea of worried faces, each filled with their own internal struggles. Their hope connected to her in a way she didn’t yet completely understand. She was determined to fulfill her father’s wishes and be the leader he believed she was capable of becoming. She imagined everything she’d been through since the moment her father closed his eyes for the last time and she gathered strength from the path she’d walked. She found Rowan and Jonah out in the crowd and their smiles calmed her. Mia gave herself one last breath to gather her thoughts and then she was ready.

  “Brick by brick and stone by stone,” she paused, “that’s what you want to know. That's the answer to most of the questions all of us have.” The confidence in her words radiated on her face. “Where do we go from here? How do we rebuild our lives?” She scanned the crowd and knew at once that they hung on her every word. “I won't promise you that the hardships are over, no one can. We've all lost, some more than others. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I do know that we will be stronger together.” Her voice rose as she continued, spilling inspiration over the crowd. “There is strength in this tribe and there is hope in the faces I see before me.”

  Mia gave herself a heartbeat to formulate the spirit of her message.

  “We are not the same, but I promise you that we are one. Together we can build a future that no one will ever take away. I see within you a courage beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. The Canaan Tribe will rebuild these walls, the walls of our new home, and together we will stand and fight for what’s ours.”

&nb
sp; THE END

  Read on for a sample of Season of Decay: The Decaying World Saga Book II

  SEASON OF DECAY

  1

  The work felt pointless. They’d tried to clear out a way into hive six for more than a month with little success. The detonation of the defense system that once surrounded the mighty walls of Canaan had done considerable damage to all of the connection tunnels among its six underground hives. The survivors managed to reconnect four of the six hives through months of hard work, but the remaining two appeared to be beyond reach.

  The work was laborious and most of the survivors of Canaan wanted no part of it. The task fell to the compound’s former residents whom the recently elected elder council allowed to stay. The formation of the new tribe of Canaan was an ongoing effort and one filled with its share of potholes and vines. They’d managed to survive the onset of winter, but there was a growing shadow of doubt that any of them would live to see the spring unless they could get the power back on. And that was the primary reason why reaching hive five was the most important task at hand.

  “I can’t feel my fingers.”

  The taller of the two men continued slamming his pickaxe into a mound of dirt and twisted metal.

  “You listening to me, Limmy?”

  Limmy stopped mid swing then turned his head to the side. He peeked over his shoulder as if only then remembering he was not alone.

  “What are you yapping about?”

  Duncan gave up on the meager dent he’d created in the mound and leaned his shovel against the dirt. He was a soldier and although he’d managed to keep his mouth shut long enough to let the tribal elders let him stay at the compound, he hated the idea of bowing down to their direction. Limmy had been a member of the compound’s administrative group and was used to following meaningless orders. The two were an odd pair but they always found themselves together.

  “We’re never going to get through all this,” Duncan said slapping the blockage they were working on. “There’s no telling if we can get the generators back online even if we do dig our way through.”

 

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