The Redivivus Trilogy (Book 3): Miasma

by Kirk Withrow

  “Where is she?”

  Lydia winced as if his words caused her physical pain. She turned away slightly, not wanting to meet his eyes.

  “Was she…like Annalee?” John asked. He couldn’t bring himself to say what he was thinking.

  While this question also seemed to elicit pain, she looked more appalled by his suggestion. “No. She’s not…she wasn’t…”

  Her words disappeared amidst the sobs that soon racked her body.

  “I tried to find her, John. She ran off with Annalee during the attack and then escaped through a window. I climbed out after her, but I couldn’t find her anywhere,” Lydia said, her shoulders hitching almost uncontrollably.

  Lydia’s pain and sincerity was plain to see. John crouched down and wrapped his arms around the crying woman who responded by doing the same.

  “I’m so sorry, John. I’m so sorry,” Lydia said.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll find her. Ava’s a smart girl. She’ll stay safe until we do,” John said.

  It was difficult to tell who he was trying to reassure the most.

  Having heard the commotion outside the medical bay, Dr. San emerged to find Lydia sobbing and John looking like he was going to be sick at any moment. The pair looked like hell, and it didn’t take much imagination for her to guess why.

  John’s red-rimmed eyes were wild with fright when he looked up at her.

  “Lin, can you take care of Lydia? I have to find Ava. Reams and the others will be here any minute with the supplies you need.”

  Before she could answer, Reams and Garza arrived, out of breath and gasping for air. They’d heard his plan, and Reams held up a hand in protest.

  “John, wait just a minute. Let’s regroup and think this thing through. We need to come up with a plan if you want this to turn out well. I know you want to rush out there right now, but running off by yourself isn’t going to do anything but get you or someone else killed. Are you listening to me, man?” Reams asked

  John’s eyes made him seem a million miles away. They weren’t exactly the vacant, hollow eyes of the infected, but he was no more in the present. He brushed Reams’s meaty hand aside in an effort to push past him. In truth, John had little hope of squeezing past the big man in the narrow hallway unless Reams allowed him to. He did not. Instead, Reams took hold of John’s shirt in order to prevent him from sliding past.

  “Get the hell off me, Reams! I’m going after her! You can’t stop me!” John screamed as he struggled to break free from the powerful grip.

  Given the significant size difference, Reams had little trouble controlling John once he got his hands on him. He wanted to find Ava as much as anyone aside from John, but he hadn’t spent the last couple of months fighting alongside the man to let him run off and get killed now.

  After struggling for nearly a minute, John finally calmed down. The small part of his brain that was still pumping out rational thoughts told him that Reams was right. He needed help if he wanted the best chance of a positive outcome.

  “Fine, you son of a bitch! Let’s just do whatever we have to so we can get out there as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the harder it’ll be to find her trail,” John said.

  “That’s better, man. Don’t worry, John. We’ll find her,” Reams said, though his tone belied his uncertainly.

  If John noticed the worry in his friend’s voice, he gave no indication. He merely threw his shoulder forward as if he thought the motion might have a chance to tear his shirt out of Ream’s grasp. Turning, he followed Lin and Lydia into the medical bay.

  The keep was a beehive of activity for the next couple of hours. Connor’s attack had dealt the compound a terrible blow. While they were still uncertain as to the motive, they had no reason to believe the danger had passed entirely. The building had to be cleared and the perimeter secured. Annalee was in critical condition, and the research team had much work to do if they hoped to save her. Everyone did his or her part. John did his best to stay calm and focused despite his growing concern for his daughter’s safety. He examined Annalee and concluded that Lin and Kate had done well caring for her. The little girl was stable and still showed no signs of LNV infection. Whether that was on account of the battlefield amputation or the Banks Protocol, no one knew. John stayed by Annalee’s bedside in the hopes that she might come around and share information that could help him locate Ava. When she did not, John left to interrogate Lydia and Mother. Aside from Annalee, they’d been the closest to Ava’s last known location. After all, Lydia had climbed out the very same window that Ava had. When Lydia finished giving John all the details of what she’d seen, he was left with a sinking feeling in his stomach; she had precious little information. Pushing it aside, John, Lydia, and Mother crouched over a map of the area, hoping to establish something of a search grid. Meanwhile, Reams and Plant lugged the heavy boxes of scavenged supplies into the keep’s lab area.

  Lin and Maria made quick work of unpacking and organizing the chemicals, equipment, and glassware. They had conducted several in vitro tests using DRACO therapy and had been on the verge of beginning in vivo tests prior to Connor’s attack. Fortunately, Lin and Maria were able to salvage much of their work and relocate it to the keep’s research area. With the addition of the supplies delivered by Plant and Reams, Lin hoped they’d have everything they needed to prepare DRACO for prime time. She feared Annalee’s life depended on it.

  Cujo hadn’t spoken since Mother had sat her down on the couch in the keep’s common area. There, she’d remained motionless with her head cradled in her hands. While everyone empathized with the pain she was experiencing, there was so much work to be done that no one stopped to say much of anything beyond offering his or her condolences, which went largely unacknowledged by the distraught woman. Perhaps they knew on some level that her loss was something she’d have to come to terms with on her own, or perhaps her pain merely opened too many wounds of their own.

  Cujo didn’t seem to notice that no one was bothering over her. In fact, it wasn’t until she felt something cold and wet nudging her arm that she even noticed anything at all. Her reaction was quick and exaggerated, likely the result of the hyper vigilance bred by life during the apocalypse. Her head snapped up, and she pulled her clinched fists in front of her face as though ready to defend against an attack. Breathing hard with wide eyes, she was a far cry from the woman with the blunted affect that had been led into the room. It took a moment for her to get her bearings, as if she’d just woken from a terrible nightmare. At that moment, the world around her was a dark, evil place, everything in it an enemy out to get her. She heard only roaring, like blood rushing past her ear, as her vision slowly came into focus. Were it not for the gentle face of the boy standing before her, she might have thought the four-legged beast was a hellhound come for her soul. Taken together, the pair sparked a hint of recognition, and her brain told her they were not a threat. Cujo’s eyes relaxed, and her heart rate slowed. The sinister shroud that had covered the world receded along with the roaring in her ears.

  Anthony bit his lip as he shifted his weight from side to side.

  “Mother told us about Stack, and we just wanted to let you know how sorry we are. He’s a hero,” the boy said.

  It took a moment for Cujo to realize that he was including his dog in his condolences. Charon lapped a string of drool from the side of his mouth as if to reaffirm his master’s words. Like everyone in their small group of survivors, she was aware of the feelings that had blossomed between Anthony and Annalee. She felt a stab of pain when she remembered what had happened to the young girl. Whether it was the sincerity in Anthony’s voice or the fact that he was likely facing a similar loss, she didn’t know, but his words were like a salve to her aching soul.

  Caught off guard, Cujo tried to force a smile. The act felt completely foreign, and she wasn’t sure her face still possessed the capacity for the expression. In a voice still choked with emotion, Cujo said, “Thanks. He was a great man. How’s Annalee?�
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  She suddenly felt guilty about brooding over her own loss when so many others had experienced the same or worse. Some, like Anthony, were still experiencing it. Despite the situation, Anthony’s face brightened at the mention of the girl’s name.

  “Lin thinks she has a good chance thanks to the supplies you guys found That wouldn’t have happened without Stack. He really is a hero. It won’t bring him back, but I wanted to make sure you knew that.”

  Cujo nodded and sniffed as she lowered her head. Wiping her eyes, she looked up and saw the boy’s retreating form through her tearstained eyes. It seemed remarkable that someone Anthony’s age possessed such maturity, and she wondered if the phenomenon was unique to him or if it was an unanticipated byproduct of the apocalypse. She stared in his direction long after he’d disappeared into the medical bay. When her cheeks began to ache several moments later, she felt her face and realized she was smiling from ear to ear.

  * * *

  The magazine snapped into place with a satisfying click. Garza released the bolt and watched as it chambered a round. He replaced the spare magazines on his vest with fresh ones off the shelves. Satisfied with his primary weapon, he grabbed one of Judge’s sniper rifles. It was chambered for the hard-hitting .338 Lapua round and equipped with a high-powered scope. Peering through the optic, he was relieved to see that the glass hadn’t been damaged during the attack. In fact, aside from knocking a few items onto the floor, the explosions hadn’t damaged anything in the armory. Perhaps more importantly, the attackers didn’t gain access to our weapon’s cache. He slung the powerful rifle across his back and grabbed an extra magazine for the weapon.

  Animal was quickly losing her patience as she waited for Garza, who appeared to be arming himself for the mother of all gunfights. She had little interest in firearms, instead preferring quieter, and in her opinion, more reliable melee weapons. Her hands drifted down to the handles of the machetes sheathed on her hips. My brush tools never jam and never run out of ammo. Feed them every so often and wipe the gore off when it gets too thick, and they’re good to go. But to each his own, I suppose. Given that she had volunteered to accompany him, she figured it really wasn’t her place to complain.

  As soon as the rest of the scavenging team had made it to the keep, Garza had gone to find Mother and L.T. He’d found them right where he’d expected: elsewhere in the keep discussing the situation and formulating their next steps. Even though he was bone-tired, the attack had him feeling vulnerable and on edge. He would find no rest knowing there was a breach in the barricade and infected in the building, and with still little idea about who exactly was behind the assault—and why.

  “L.T., I think it would be a good idea if I went out to survey the damage done to the wall and to make sure the infected aren’t still pouring in,” Garza said in a way that made it sound as though he were making a suggestion.

  “I agree. Are you sure you’re up for it? You haven’t been back an hour yet,” L.T. replied.

  With a tired grin, Garza said, “No rest for the wicked, right, Lieutenant? I’ll be fine.”

  Having been thinking of doing the same thing, Animal said, “I’ll go, too. It’ll be safer with two of us. Besides, I’ve got nothing better to do.”

  L.T. nodded, thinking of how scary it was that anyone would volunteer to head into such danger simply because they had “nothing better to do.”

  “Very well. You two stay safe.”

  Now that Garza’s ammunition was replenished and he’d armed himself appropriately, he turned to Animal and asked, “You ready?”

  She’d been biting her tongue for what seemed like an hour, so she found the question mildly irritating.

  “Oh, sure…if you don’t think you need any more guns,” she replied with a smirk that belied her true thoughts.

  Animal wasn’t sure if he detected the sarcasm dripping off her words, as he simply nodded and stepped past her. The two emerged from the armory and crept down the hall toward the damaged entrance. Outside, the sun felt warm on their skin, sharply contrasting the dark cold that blanketed the building’s gloomy interior. They paused, finding it hard to believe that so much damage had been done so quickly. It was even harder to believe that other survivors had been behind it.

  The grounds surrounding the building were a wreck, with bodies and debris covering nearly every inch of space. Most of the smoldering fires caused by the explosions had died down, leaving very little smoke in the air and making visibility significantly better than the last time Garza had passed through. Unfortunately, the noisome smell of dead, burned flesh hadn’t dissipated with the smoke. Garza gagged, while Animal’s face screwed up in disgust.

  “The apocalypse is a real shitstorm of badness, but the smells are the absolute worst,” Garza said before breaking off to stifle another gag. He spit as if trying to clear the taste from his mouth. “I’m going to check out the breach in the wall to make sure the revs can’t just waltz right in,” he added.

  “Okay. I’ll walk the perimeter to clear out any stragglers and look for any sign of Ava,” Animal replied.

  Garza nodded and tapped his radio.

  “Give me a call if you get into trouble.”

  He’d seen how skilled she was in a fight and immediately felt like it had been the wrong thing to say. Maybe it was the smell, but Animal didn’t fire back with her usual snarky retort. Instead, she agreed and told him to do the same.

  Animal put down four revs before making it halfway around the building. They’d been shambling aimlessly in a loose group on the building’s east side when she’d spotted them. She wondered whether something had drawn them together or if their proximity to one another had been simply coincidental.

  In the end, it didn’t matter; she made quick work of them. The closest two revs stood facing away from her. Without a sound, she slid behind the pair and launched a powerful front kick into the lower back of the one on the left. It made no attempt to brace against the fall as it slammed face-first into the ground. As expected, the other one turned, only to be greeted by the hooked end of one of Animal’s razor-sharp brush tools, which plunged deeply into its temple. The rev crumpled to the ground instantly like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Even before she’d pulled the machete out of the thing’s skull, the weapon’s twin was already whistling through the air toward the rev she’d kicked to the ground.

  THWACK!

  The blade caught it head on as it was struggling back to its feet. In addition to short-circuiting whatever malevolent force kept the ghoulish thing moving, the power of the blow caused the rev’s left eye to pop out of its socket with a grotesque sucking sound. The remaining two infected had been more spread out but were now converging on her. The most eager of them, a female wearing the tattered remains of a frumpy dress, fell victim to a powerful backhand blow that nearly decapitated her. Finally, Animal ended her deadly dance with a sweeping strike in which she brought her other weapon around her head, allowing it to gain remarkable momentum on the down stroke. It cleaved the top the last monster’s skull, sending a chunk of bone and hair hurtling through the air. Having finished with the frumpy dress, she thrust her other brush tool straight through the last rev’s throat, severing its spinal cord in the process. In a matter of seconds, all four monsters lay still, and Animal’s heart rate had only just begun to rise.

  Animal had heard Garza talking about where he and Anthony had found Lydia, which corresponded with Ava’s last known location. When she came to that section of the building, she climbed onto the roof in the hopes of finding some clue the others had overlooked. Unfortunately, she saw nothing to indicate what had become of the little girl.

  “Where are you, Ava?” Animal said as she gazed beyond the barricade.

  Her musing was interrupted when movement in the distance caught her eye. She watched with rising concern as the speck slowly materialized into an automobile heading toward the compound at high speed. It disappeared momentarily behind a group of buildings before emer
ging on the other side, its tires screeching as it tore around the corner. Without taking her eyes off the vehicle, she unclipped the radio from her waistband.

  “Garza, what’s your location? Over.”

  On the other end, Garza fumbled with his radio and clicked the transmit button.

  “I’m still by the breach in the wall. What’s going on? Over.”

  “I’m standing on roof where you guys found Lydia, and I’ve got eyes on a car approaching from the south at high speed,” Animal said with clear worry in her voice.

  As the car loomed closer, Animal saw what appeared to be a rusted-out 1980s sedan with whitewall tires. Other than its hood, which was missing entirely, the car was painted a light silver blue color. The driver made no attempt to conceal his or her approach as dust and exhaust billowed out behind the loud vehicle. Its huge body rocked back and forth on its frame as it swerved this way and that, avoiding the many obstacles littering the streets. If the driver was the least bit concerned about the road conditions, she couldn’t tell. The car, as well as its sound, grew steadily as it sped toward the barricade. It was travelling at such high speed that Animal wondered if the driver intended to stop or was simply going to plow right into the wall.

  “Hold your position. I’m on my way,” he called into the radio.

  Seconds later, Garza was clambering up the ladder to join Animal on the roof. He followed her gaze past the southern barricade to where a car best described as a land barge was just coming to a screeching halt approximately 100 yards from the wall. Even from a distance, the car’s frame could be heard groaning when its heavy steel body shifted as it skidded sideways. It rocked back and forth several times before finally going still. The car sat idling for what seemed like an eternity.