The Redivivus Trilogy (Book 3): Miasma

by Kirk Withrow

  In that instant, Ava had a decision to make, and she felt like she was being forced to choose the better of two bad options. The choice to remain inside the building represented a known entity to Ava. Her young mind had experienced enough that it wasn’t hard to imagine what would become of her if the stranger got his hands on her. On the contrary, choosing to continue through the window was choosing the unknown. There, everything was a question mark. The outside world was filled with revs and people who were every bit as dangerous as revs, but there were also options. Even though life inside the CDC compound meant everyone and everything she knew and loved, all of that seemed miles away at the moment—if it still existed. In the darkness of the bathroom, she saw certain death. When she looked outside, she saw a chance to live. It was far from a guarantee, but Ava had long since given up on the idea of guarantees. Even though it had been a long time since she’d been on her own in the outside world, she thought back to what had kept her alive during that time: she’d always listened to her instincts. Right now, those instincts were telling her to get as far away from the bathroom and the stranger as possible. Without another thought, she turned and dropped out the window.

  At least my dad isn’t here. Maybe he’s still safe out there somewhere, and maybe I can find him.

  Even though it was only eight feet to the roof below, it felt much farther as Ava slammed into the hard surface. The impact jarred her knees and caused her feet to slide in the loose rock before shooting out from under her. Her tailbone struck the corner of a stepping-stone as she fell on her butt. She let out a short yelp of pain and cursed herself for her carelessness. What’s wrong with me? Have I forgotten everything? That sort of mistake will get me killed out here!

  Ignoring the pain in her backside, Ava hauled herself to her feet. She chanced a look up at the window. The idealistic part of her brain hoped she might see Annalee climbing out after her. Rationally, she knew that wasn’t going to happen, and if it did, she knew it wouldn’t end well. Not waiting for the stranger to follow her through the window, Ava scurried forward along the stone path laid out on the rooftop. It led to an industrial-sized air conditioning unit located near the roof’s northern edge. She crouched behind it as she considered her options. Aside from jumping, the only way off the roof was a fire ladder fixed to the side of the building. Unfortunately, a half dozen revs near the ladder’s bottom eliminated that option. Ava stared at the five-foot gap between the building and the barricade. Even though she saw no infected on the other side of the wall, she knew they were out there. But again, she knew there were also options out there.

  Ava glanced back to the open bathroom window once again. It was still empty and far too high for her to climb back inside even if she’d wanted to do so. She had no food or water, and no one knew where she was. She wasn’t even sure where she was. Everyone else in the compound was tied up with the infected and whoever else had invaded the building, so she knew no one would be coming to her rescue. She had to get off the roof, and she had to do it herself. Had she been stranded alone on top of a building prior to the outbreak, she would have been paralyzed by fear. She would have screamed until her throat bled and then collapsed into a blubbering heap. Not only would such actions fail to get her rescued now, they would likely get her killed. Much had changed since that time, and now she scanned the area around her looking for any way out of her predicament. She had settled on climbing down the ladder and taking her chances with the revs on the ground below when she was struck by an idea.

  Lying just under the roof’s lip was a six-inch-wide piece of wood. Ava slid the heavy board into the open. She estimated that it was about eight feet long, and it seemed quite sturdy to her. I wonder if it could hold my weight?

  Although she’d always been a thin girl, she weighed even less now despite the fact that she felt stronger than she’d ever felt in her life. To answer her question, she set one end of the board on the roof’s raised lip before walking up the incline as though balancing on a tightrope. The board bowed slightly as she moved but showed no sign of breaking. Satisfied, she turned her thoughts to figuring out how to get the board to span the gap between the building and the barricade. She didn’t know exactly how much it weighed, but it seemed far too heavy for her to simply scoot it across the open expanse to the barricade. Instead, she lowered the end from the lip to the roof. Moving to the other end, she hoisted the plank onto her shoulder. She walked forward slowly, raising the board as she went until it stood nearly vertical. The closer she got to the edge, the more she struggled to balance the board’s cumbersome weight. When the board was nearly vertical, she gave it a little shove. Like a tree felled by a lumberjack, it dropped slowly at first, but steadily picked up speed.

  CRASH!

  The board slammed against the top of the barricade, bouncing and shuddering several times before finally settling into position. Ava held onto the board in hopes of preventing it from falling to the ground below. She didn’t think the revs below had been aware of her presence up until they’d heard the loud noise. Now, every pair of milky eyes turned in her direction as arm after arm groped at the empty air above them. As if to ensure her that they knew she was there, the revs let out a collective snarl, and she could hear more of the infected coming to join them.

  Ava took a long, steadying breath and tried to ignore the snarling pit of revs below as she climbed onto the ledge. This proved to be difficult, as their esurient moans intensified when they finally caught sight of her. Stepping lightly, she eased out onto the narrow board, her arms outstretched for balance. With the utmost caution, she shuffled her feet forward. As her weight was closer to the beginning of the board than the middle, she felt minimal give beneath her feet. Emboldened by the board’s stability and intimidated by the infected’s reaching hands, Ava took a bigger step. Accordingly, her footfall was far less controlled and associated with a much greater transfer of weight. Combined with the fact that she was now standing at the halfway point over the pit of death, the board bowed and bucked, rebounding like a trampoline. Ava bent her knees to accommodate the board’s spring, and while she was mostly successful in this endeavor, each time that her timing was a little off, the ripples propagating along the board grew stronger. She felt as though she were on a slackline over a pit of snarling alligators.

  CREEAAK! CRACK!

  Ava’s body stiffened at the sound of splintering wood, but she didn’t feel the expected loss of support and inevitable fall she’d anticipated. Whatever the cause of the sound, the board hadn’t completely snapped. Even so, her tense muscles left her balance severely compromised, and she knew the fall was seconds away. Thinking quickly, she bent her knees one last time and pushed off hard as she suddenly extended her legs.

  CRRRREEEEEE…SNAP!

  The board suddenly gave way just as her feet lost contact. She sprang into the air as though she’d leapt off a diving board, while the broken plank fell into the gap below. A sickening crunch reverberated out of the gap when one end of the board slammed into the nose of one of the waiting revs. Despite the nauseating sound and obvious deformity, it hardly seemed to notice the trauma.

  Ava’s trajectory had been off, and her chest hit the wall, knocking all of the air out of her lungs. She struggled to maintain her precarious grip on the wall’s edge while her feet dangled uselessly over the edge, like canvas-covered meat snacks held tauntingly out of the infected’s reach. The revs, which now numbered nearly a dozen, clawed at the concrete wall as though trying to climb the blank face. Ava mustered every last ounce of strength in her body to hoist herself on top of the barricade. Fearing she might pass out and fall off the narrow ledge, she lay down. She stared into the infected faces below as she struggled to catch her breath. As a group, the revs were a grotesque, disfigured lot no different than any other she’d seen since the start of the outbreak. Mottled gray flesh hung loosely from their faces where it hadn’t been torn off completely. Concentrated in the narrow space, the nauseating smell of death and decay that was a
telltale sign of LNV infection gave Ava reservations about the prospect of breathing freely again. She started to look away, when one particular rev made her freeze.

  With no air to spare, Ava’s voice was barely audible as she gasped, “That’s impossible…”

  The small-statured figure moved through the growing crowd of revs at the base of the wall. Where it wasn’t matted with dried blood, its blond hair trailed behind like gossamer in the wind. Only a blood-crusted cavity existed where its left eye should have been. Ava blinked with the hope that the action might dispel the monstrosity moving toward her. Instead, she gasped in horror when she saw the intense green eye that had replaced the milky right eye she’d seen initially. Ava shook her head in disbelief, no longer concerned with the pain in her body, or breathing, or anything else. Through some sinister trick of the mind, the ghastly figure moving toward her hit play on the memory of the last time she’d seen her mother, Rebecca.

  Ava cowered in the kitchen corner, trapped and terrified. She pleaded with her infected mother not to come any closer, but her mother wouldn’t listen. The knife Ava gripped in her hand felt heavy and wrong. More than anything, she wanted to drop it, but the blade felt like an extension of her arm. Ava closed her eyes tightly and prayed for everything to end. Cold hands groped her neck before ropy fingers slowly tightened around her throat. Gripped by the blind panic that comes with air hunger, Ava lashed out, swinging wildly until a halting thud reverberated through her arm.

  Ava refused to open her eyes for fear of what she would see. She’d relived this horrible clip a thousand times before. Now, she waited for the imaginary skeletal fingers to slacken their hold so that she might breathe freely once again. An explosion somewhere in the compound caused her eyes to snap open. The agitated horde’s feral snarls intensified amidst all of the visual and auditory stimuli. Even though she knew it wasn’t possible, Ava didn’t dare look at the female rev for fear she would see her mother reaching for her—knife handle protruding from her left eye.

  Instead, Ava glanced over her shoulder at the great unknown that lay on the other side of the barricade. For a brief moment, she considered everything she’d found inside the wall: her father, friends, and others whom she regarded as much like family as she had her own mother. She wanted to scream and curse the revs for taking all of that away from her again. Because of them, everyone she loved was either lost or dead. If Lydia or anyone else was still alive inside the building, Ava had no way of getting to them. The scavenging team was outside the wall, which meant that her father was outside the wall. Listening to the increasing number of infected gathering below, she wasn’t sure which side was more dangerous. One thing was clear—there was no more safety within the compound’s walls. Perhaps it had only been a figment of her imagination in the first place.

  The thought of losing her father once again was too painful to consider, and Ava stifled the sob blossoming in her chest. The infected had already made her shed far too many tears; she refused to give them any more. She’d found her father once; she could find him again. With a deep, steadying breath, Ava swung her legs over the side of the barricade and dropped to the ground outside the wall.

  * * *

  Lydia knew Ava was more than capable of taking care of herself. She’d done so for quite some time before they’d found one another. When she’d first met Ava, the little girl had reminded her of a feral cat: cautious, stealthy, agile, and fierce when necessary. She prayed those qualities would be enough to keep Ava safe once again.

  Lydia dropped out of the bathroom window and tried to look at the world through Ava’s eyes. What would I do? Where would I go? She scanned the rooftop and saw nothing unusual. Stepping forward, Lydia tripped on a stepping-stone that was part of a path laid out on the roof. Her frustration morphed into elation when she noticed the faint outline of a shoeprint on its surface. Similar footprints appeared on several other stones along the path. Her heart raced as she followed the short path to the roof’s edge. A six-foot gap separated the roof and the barricade. Lydia’s gaze settled on a small, smudged footprint on the ledge. Assuming it belonged to Ava, she appeared to have vanished into thin air.

  A monotonous drone reached Lydia’s ears—so loud that she wasn’t sure how it had taken her until that moment to notice it. From the ground below, the upturned faces of more than a dozen revs stared up at her. Although she didn’t want to think about it, she knew that something had drawn them to this spot. She also knew that Ava hadn’t simply disappeared. Lydia’s heart sank when she realized the likelihood of Ava successfully leaping across the gap. She felt sick when she considered the possibility that Ava’s failed attempt to jump across might be the reason for the revs’ congregation. Despite being the last thing in the world she wanted to do, Lydia forced herself to look into the crowd, searching for any evidence to support that possibility. All she saw were the revs’ unsatiated faces. If Ava had fallen, the infected had left no evidence to that effect.

  With the last of Lydia’s hope nearly gone, she caught a glimpse of movement in the brush less than thirty yards beyond the wall. She bristled with excitement at the possibility that the disturbance was caused by Ava. Her longing to see the little girl was crushed when the distinct outline of an adult male emerged from cover. Lydia didn’t recognize the figure moving through the woods like an apparition, and she blinked several times to ensure that it wasn’t merely her imagination getting carried away.

  When the figure didn’t disappear, Lydia squinted her eyes but could only make out a few details from such a distance. Only when she went to shield her eyes from the sun did she become aware of the weight of Mother’s rifle in her hands. She brightened considerably when she saw the scope mounted atop the weapon. Although it wasn’t particularly high-powered, it certainly provided magnification beyond the capabilities of her naked eye. She slid behind the air-conditioning unit so that she could use it as a rifle rest. With the scope dialed up to its highest power, she noticed considerably more details about the man lurking in the woods.

  Based on his hair and skin color, she thought he was of Asian or Hispanic descent. He moved slowly and purposefully, stopping periodically to examine his surroundings. Her face flushed with panic when he cast a sidelong glance over his shoulder in her direction. Even though she knew it would be virtually impossible for him to have spotted her, she breathed a sigh of relief when he resumed his investigations after a few tense moments. She didn’t know exactly why, but the unknown man made her feel inordinately apprehensive. Perhaps it was the calculating manner in which he moved, like that of a serpent, or the fact that he was well armed and looked more than capable of employing his weapons with deadly results. Something about him made him seem dangerous, and in that regard, he reminded her of Animal. Lydia shifted her weight slightly, causing the rifle resting atop the air-conditioning unit to do the same.

  wom… POP!

  The sound of the sheet metal deforming and then popping back into place rang out as loudly as a gunshot, causing Lydia to duck behind the air conditioner instinctively. Dammit! Did he hear that? She knew the answer to that question, and she cringed at the thought of losing Ava on account of her carelessness. She shook with fear as her mind began to run through one bad scenario after another.

  “Pull yourself together,” she whispered. “Ava’s still out there, and you still need to find her.”

  Her self-imposed command had the intended effect, as Lydia’s thoughts grew calmer and more rational. She came up onto her knees and peered over the air conditioner cautiously. Although she was relieved not to see the man moving in her direction, she worried about where he was and why he’d been there in the first place. She panned the scope across the landscape but saw no sign of Ava or the mysterious man. In her heart, she felt that Ava was still alive. It was a notion that was tainted by the sinking feeling that the man she’d seen snooping around outside the barricade knew it as well.

  * * *

  Bayani clipped the radio to his vest. He wasn’t
sure who the girl Connor referred to was or why he was so interested in her. As long as Connor’s intentions weren’t perverse, it didn’t matter to him. He was tired of following the Bearcat and welcomed the chance to head back toward the action.

  As Bayani was travelling on foot, he hadn’t been that far from the compound when Connor called. Their conversation had been brief and to the point. Less than thirty minutes after his first call, Connor called back to give him a few more details, including the status of the infected army’s assault on the facility. Connor told him he’d been in “mixed” company and had been unable to speak candidly when he’d called previously. He went on to inform Bayani that the little girl, Ava, was the daughter of one of the doctors working at the facility, and she’d fled the CDC compound to escape the infected swarm. Connor hoped that by “rescuing” her they might be able to gain favor with the scientists. If not, she would be a powerful bargaining chip.

  There was a time when Bayani would’ve adamantly refused to go on a glorified kidnapping mission, but things were different now—he was different now. Connor’s rationale sounded logical, but Bayani knew Connor was a cunning man filled with angles and ulterior motives. In the end, what he’d really heard was that a little girl was out here on her own. Despite how far he’d fallen, that didn’t sit well with him. Perhaps a shred of decency still lingered somewhere in the depths of his soul. At least, that’s what he told himself.

  Without having to worry about staying hidden or covering his tracks, Bayani made good time heading back to the CDC. He kept his eyes out for the little girl Connor had described. He didn’t imagine there were too many girls running around alone these days, and he doubted he would have trouble following a child’s trail. Bayani’s assumptions proved partially right. While he had little difficulty picking up her trail, Ava moved quickly and proved more challenging to get his hands on than he’d anticipated. This, of course, was relative, and in the end he managed to capture her without too much of a struggle. She elbowed him in the groin and head-butted him in the nose when he snuck up behind her. While both strikes hurt like hell, they didn’t anger him. On the contrary, he admired the little girl’s tenacity.