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The Rotting Souls Series (Book 3): Charon's Debt

Page 4

by Ray, Timothy A.


  The kids were getting restless and his throat was starting to get a bit dry, so he knew it was time to start wrapping up. “Please remember that each of you is responsible for the safety of our group. When you are above ground, try not to speak very loudly, as sound tends to carry and attract attention. If you must argue, please do it underground and with a door shut. I don’t know how many times being above ground has saved my ass when I piss my wife off, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be waiting for me when I come back down to bed.”

  “Damn right,” Monica and Samantha muttered at the same time and drew a few laughs.

  “Folks, there is a lot to do, and very little time to dally. Once I walk through the areas with our new arrivals, I’ll be expecting everyone to pitch in and pull their own weight. I will be milking those cows right alongside you, buddy,” he told Casey and Caleb snickered. “But I think my kids will get their hands wet first.”

  Nick punched his younger brother and the boy yelped.

  “I don’t know shit about farming,” Sabrina fired at him and he could tell that the crowd scene was irritating her.

  “That’s okay, because Rodger does. He and his family have maintained our crops, our livestock, and have worked endlessly to keep this place ready for us. It is because of them that we have the beginnings of what we need to survive. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to teach you the basics,” he replied.

  Rodger laughed, “you bet your ass.”

  Everyone joined in then and the mood lightened. He glanced back at Ben and saw the young man’s furious movements on his lap top.

  Shit, he inwardly sighed.

  Things would always come at them at the wrong times, wouldn’t it? “What’s up Ben?” he asked and the rest of those gathered glanced at the young man in the back.

  “Better to show you,” Ben returned. He got up and turned on the television on the opposite wall and the large flat screen sputtered to life. A couple blank channels were flipped and then the President’s Seal appeared on the screen. The Seal quickly faded and they were shown an interior shot of the oval office. Everything seemed natural; except for the man sitting behind the President’s desk, it was Bernie Sanders.

  “My fellow Americans, as of right now I’m assuming the office of the President of the United States. The former President, Michelle Obama, has decided to flee the capitol and abandon the White House and I, in good conscience, refused to go with her. I will not abandon our people or our beliefs. I will not abandon you in the moment of our darkest hour. Behind me is a city in chaos but I am assured by my advisors and generals that this city can be cleansed of the infected and that we will win this war on the undead citizens that have risen against us.”

  “Let me say that I am ashamed of what this office has done in its vain efforts to battle this heinous terrorist attack that has been launched upon our Nation and the world. That through my leadership, I will put our Nation back together, taking no loss of life for granted, and only using measures necessary to save American lives.”

  “As most of you are aware, a group of hackers has now assumed control of the internet servers across America, having won a pitched battle with the traitors that served the former President of the United States, and have released videos of the war crimes that former head of state authorized. I make this promise to you, once this has been ended and our lives restored to the prosperity and promise that we have always enjoyed, I will not rest until that woman is brought to justice. I will see to it that the courts try Mrs. Obama for every atrocity and heinous acts that have been inflicted upon the American people. To those still in service to our new Hitler, I give you this one chance at amnesty. Forsake her agenda, do not say you were just following orders, and return to the righteous cause of preserving the American Nation and the soul that has been ripped out of her.”

  “I have ordered that all media outlets be returned to working order, the newscasters put back on the air, and any further attempts at communication black outs to be terminated. I believe that we as a people cannot survive without talking to one another, keeping each other informed, and that the only reason things have grown to be as bad as they are; is due to the insane whims of a mad woman that stripped our constitutional rights away from us. I am on your side. For those of you that want to fight and preserve our country, I say to you now, stand with me, fight for me, and together we will see ourselves through this and we will win the day.”

  The camera jerked at that moment and he heard a gasp over the mic. The older man’s face lost its righteous mask, as gunshots thundered over the live feed, and the window behind him was peppered by gunfire. He stood, his hands balled up and pounding the desk. For a moment, he looked like he was going to make a run for it, but then a bounding figure leaped into frame and hit the man; driving him to the floor. Screams erupted from behind the desk and the camera suddenly fell to the ground, an arm spasming in frame.

  “Oh my God,” he heard his wife say. “Kids, turn away.”

  His children however, did not. Even Skye had her eyes focused on that television screen and as it faded to black; the Seal failed to reappear. He knew that it was a moment that would stay with them all forever.

  “Holy shit, a zombie just ate Bernie Sanders,” Casey blurted loudly. His younger daughter burst into tears and ran for her mother’s arms. Monica glared at their young friend and he just smiled back. “What? It’s some funny shit.”

  Ignoring Casey, he turned on the young man at the computer in the back. “Ben, did you see that before it aired or was that live?” If it was replayed, he was going to kick the young man’s ass for not stopping it before the end there, for letting the kids in the room see that. Ben’s younger sister Wendy was in her mother’s arms, sniffling, and though Nick seemed not to be disturbed by it, his son Caleb was looking at him with haunted eyes.

  “No way, that was live,” the young man responded and he let his anger go; nothing to do about it then but move on. “Wait, there’s another signal coming through.”

  The Seal came back on the screen and he prayed that it did not show the oval office and the probably undead Vice-President behind that desk.

  His prayers were answered this time as the image of their current President, Michelle Obama appeared on the screen. She was dressed in fatigues and was wearing a headset with a mic pressed against her lips. No one could tell where she was, but he knew from sight that it was in a helicopter while in flight.

  “My fellow Americans, and those around the globe that are watching this; I want you to know that I have not abandoned you. I will not forsake you. Members of my secret service detail informed me that staying in Washington was no longer a viable option and I listened to them. As you have all seen on screen not moments ago, I’d say it was a wise choice.”

  “Ouch,” Sabrina replied and he saw a smirk on her face.

  “I grieve for Vice-President Sanders, and so should you all, but I refuse to be labeled Hitler and accused of war crimes. Everything that I have done and ordered has been in the best interest of saving the maximum amount of American lives. I am sorry if there is no law book here, no set of orders telling me what to do. My fellow Americans, I had to call an audible,” she said with a smile and he knew that in that moment, she had recaptured the hearts of most of the Nation; at least, what was left of it. “I am and will continue to do whatever is best to give our country a chance to survive and if I had made mistakes, it was not a failure of judgment but rather a failure to understand the true nature of what we face—extinction.”

  “I have heard the words of my fallen comrade and I have given thought to his concerns. The media blackout was for everyone’s safety, I believed it best to keep the country from panicking and feared the deaths that would result because of it. The blame on that front is mine and mine alone and I must ask your forgiveness in the days to come for ordering that. I still believe it was the right call, but I recognize that maybe if we had all been better informed there might be less pointless deaths in the world toni
ght. To that end, I’m upholding the orders given by my former colleague and lifting the restrictions on the communications grid.”

  “As of right now I am drawing a line in the sand. We are pulling most of the armed forces not deployed at sea into the great state of Montana. The navy will continue its operations under Col. McAlester, but the ground and air forces across the nation are to pull back to Montana and the bases being constructed there. From there, we will fortify and work to protect the rest of the Nation from the undead masses that have been unleashed upon us all. If you can make it there by car or on foot, you will not be turned away. Refugee camps will be established and we will make it our priority to keep you alive and safe. If you cannot, then I ask that you do whatever it takes to help each other survive. Keep each other safe. Stay indoors when you can and fortify your homes. Dispatch any of the living that die before they rise and kill you as well. Wait for us, we are not going to give up on you. We may look like we’re retreating, but my fellow Americans that is not the case; we are digging in. I could be hiding in a bunker right now, as I have been advised repeatedly to do, instead I am flying on a Blackhawk helicopter to Malmstrom Air Force Base, where I will coordinate with our generals on the best ways to go forward and fight this plague ripping our Nation apart. Trust in me for I trust in you.”

  “And I have been asked to remind you that if you do come north, you are going to need cold weather gear, I apologize, but we do not have enough supplies at the moment to warm the Nation in the cold months to come and please be safe on your journey; take every precaution, avoid the undead as much as possible, and for God sakes, when you shoot the damn things, go for the head. If you can’t do that, then run.”

  “My prayers are with all of you tonight. May you stay safe, may you persevere, and if you are coming to Montana, then I hope to see you soon, because I’ll be waiting,” she told the camera with a big smile and the President’s Seal reappeared.

  “How long is the drive to Montana?” Casey asked, wiggling in his seat.

  “Oh, shut up Casey,” Rosilynn told the younger man. “Not only are we better off here, but you’d never make it sitting in a car with your ass like that.”

  His stoner friend laughed and took a hit off of what Todd hoped was a cigarette. He sniffed the air, but didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary—yet.

  John raised his hand and Todd only shook his head. He motioned for the man to speak, as if a teacher in a class room and sighed. “Why exactly are we better off here?” the man asked and the other new people turned to hear her answer.

  She had her long hair back in a ponytail and her face was calm and confident. “I know this is going to sound bad, and kids, you might want to cover your ears, but if you pile up all the dog food in one big mound, and then create a couple of smaller mounds around it, which one do you think the dogs run to first? Where will most of them get fed and what will be drawing their attention? Not us. We are well off the roads, we have our defenses, and we have each other. If you want to be one of those hopeless souls drawing all those creatures towards those guns, go right ahead. I’m quite sure they’ll accept refugees, but to me, it sounds like she’s creating a huge wall, putting all her guns behind it, and is having them shoot everything that comes their way. Because the one thing those poor souls will be bringing with them, is all the undead following their food supply.”

  “Why do that in Montana instead of somewhere on the east coast?” Michelle asked, speaking up for the first time.

  “Population, honey,” he told her cutting Rosilynn off but getting a nod from her in return. “The sheer amount of people on the coastlines makes defending and protecting those areas impossible. So, she picked a northern, nearly empty state, and is using that to fight them off slowly as they approach her, rather than be overrun by staying in the epicenter of it.”

  “Just seems wrong, her pulling back the military like that, just leaving us all to fend for ourselves,” John muttered. He was a police officer charged with protecting the lives of every soul in Lake Havasu, and he knew that the man was dealing with the inner guilt he was feeling at that moment; he had done exactly the same thing.

  Their eyes met and he knew that they understood each other.

  “Better to retreat and conserve, rebuild, and fight again, then to stand their ground in a losing battle and lose everything,” Rodger chipped in. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but all this talk has made me hungry, anyone else?”

  “Aw Rodger, we just watched a President get eaten on TV and you’re hungry?” Casey poked at the older man.

  They all laughed, and though he knew that everything that they had just seen would hover over them the rest of the day, he felt better knowing that the sense of family he felt was real; that they were all in this together. They just might make it.

  “Did you butcher one of those cows yet?” he asked with a grin, slapping Casey on the shoulder as he passed. “Because I sure could go for a steak about now.”

  “Todd!” his wife hissed, still holding their daughter in her arms.

  Sabrina smirked. “You ain’t right, but I hear ya, if there’s steaks let’s get them grillin’.”

  “See what you started?” Lucy yelled, smacking her husband’s arm.

  “What? I’m hungry,” the old man replied and that drew even more laughter as he passed from the communal room to their kitchen area.

  Yep, maybe there was hope after all.

  Chapter 7

  Renny and the Jets

  Robert

  Safford, AZ

  “If that bitch thinks I’m going to come running to Montana, she’s out of her damn mind,” he muttered, but doubted Raleigh was hearing anything he was saying. His breathing had grown ragged and time was beginning to slip; a hard choice was fast approaching.

  Nina was following in the truck behind him and the momentary lapse of attention to the road ahead cost him as four cars swerved out of a parking lot and pulled in front of him. He jerked his eyes forward and stomped on the brakes, but he still ended up crashing into the side of one of the cars.

  His head hit the steering wheel and he blacked out.

  When next he woke, it was to a god-awful Elton John song; Bennie and the Jets. “Oh, what the hell is going on?” he moaned as he tried to stroke his forehead, but his hand was being restrained. His eyes jerked open then. He was lying on a gurney and there were leather straps binding his hands and feet. He put everything he had into fighting against them, straining his arms in an effort to break free, but his head exploded in pain at the movement and his vision darkened once more.

  There was a sliver of light coming through a crack in a door, but that was the limit of the illumination in the room. He tried to control his breathing, but his heart rate increased as a voice began to drift out of the shadows. The voice had a high-pitched tone to it and he was surprised when a dark-skinned Hispanic male moved into view, the light flashing off his tiger-like grin.

  “Say, Candy and Robbie, have you seen them yet?

  But they’re so spaced out, R-R-R-Renny and the Jets

  Oh but they’re weird and they’re wonderful

  Oh Renny she’s really keen

  She’s got electric boots a mohair suit

  You know I read it in a magazine

  R-R-R-Renny and the Jets”

  “What the fuck do you want from me?” he tried to yell, but his throat had something gunky in it; a coppery taste. How badly had he been hurt? Where the hell was he bleeding from?

  “Hey Homie, you don’t interrupt me when I’m serenading you,” the man replied, grinning wider. It was hard to make out what the guy was wearing, but he saw a flash of metal from the man’s right hand and realized he was wielding brass knuckles. “That’s right, you’re mine now, bitch,” the man purred.

  His head exploded as the man jabbed him in the head with three quick and consecutive punches. A tooth flew free and blood was gushing down his throat. “Why?”

  “You are going to my prize bul
l, and if I have to ride your ass, you’re going to perform for me, that I assure you,” the man replied.

  The music changed and that’s when he realized that he must have died in that car accident because this was surely hell.

  “And the elephant goes toot!” the man sung, jabbing him in the leg, making his calf explode in pain. “Ding ding ding dingading da ding!” he continued, and with every “ding” different parts of Robert’s body roared in anguish. “How will you speak to that H-H-H-H-Horse,” he heard, but his vision was beginning to darken once more as the pain just became too much to bear.

  He cried out then, trying once more to fight his way free.

  “That’s right, keep bucking, just means I have to break you in some more.” Another jab; another part of his body in pain. Then, to his horror, the gurney he was on was rotated sideways and he was suddenly facing the ground, his body suspended by straps across his midsection and the bindings at his extremities. His head, however, hung loose and blood was now coursing from his mouth and dripping off his forehead. He spat some out and another tooth flung from his broken lips. He moaned and hung there in pain, waiting for the man to either finish him off or leave him be; but neither was what the other had in mind.

  There was a rush of feet around him and he realized that others must have been watching from the shadows. Multiple hands fastened themselves across his body and his bindings were released. He tried to struggle, but there was fresh pain from his chest and the sliding of a few bruised ribs made him scream in anguish instead.

  The gurney was moved away and a barrel was rolled forward. Ropes were strung around his wrist and run to something in the darkness, the slack taken up and his arms stretched further than they were willing to go. Other ropes tied him to that barrel and as he drifted in and out of consciousness his body started to feel cold. Somewhere, in the void that was threatening to engulf him, it occurred to him that he was now naked. He made a feeble attempt to fight once more, but the pressure of the barrel on his chest was threatening to make him black out again and it was too excruciating for him to put up much of a fight.

 

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