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

by Ray, Timothy A.

  She flew around the last corner towards the entertainment room and gasped in horror at the woman and her baby lying on the floor before her. She nearly tripped over them in her panic.

  She reached down and searched for a pulse. “Oh my God, Marisol,” she breathed out in a short gasp. What were they still doing down here? They had arrived earlier the previous evening, having given up on staying in Morenci as soon as the woman recovered enough to travel.

  She had completely forgotten that they were even here.

  Why hadn’t they evacuated with the others? Why hadn’t she thought to check on her? They hadn’t seen the beaten woman or her baby much since their arrival and now they were lying dead on the floor near the entertainment room. From the color of their skin, she was guessing they had died from a lack of air and her own lightheadedness was getting worse. Her temples were beginning to throb.

  If the lockdown had been canceled, why wasn’t the air turned back on?

  “Ben!” she hollered down the hall, while making a dash for the communications room. She rushed through the door and found the young man lying spread eagled beside his desk chair. The moment she entered, the lack of oxygen in the room made her lungs ache, and with a swimming head she lurched her way forward. She hadn’t thought to prop open the door and it closed with a click behind her.

  “Ben!” she croaked, as she reached the online computer and started mousing over the compound’s systems. She would have to check on him in a moment. If she didn’t get the air turned back on, she’d end up on the floor next to him. She knew that she was suffering from Hypoxia and hoped there was enough time for her to finish her task before she blacked out.

  Her vision was doubling and she double clicked the wrong icon. “Son of a bitch!” she whispered and held onto the computer desk with her left hand. She clicked the icon on the right and the ventilation controls swam into focus. She started the program and clicked the bright green power button just as her knees gave way and she fell to the floor beside the friend she’d come to save.

  “Ben! Monica!” came two voices from behind her, as she heard the hissing of the air cycle up and her lungs tried to drag in the devastating slow release of air. Her limbs were tingling and her head was pounding, but after a few whooping coughs she felt the much-needed oxygen begin to fill her lungs; her head swimming in and out of focus.

  “Oh no, God no! Lord please don’t take my son! Ben, you can’t leave me!” Lucy cried in terror. She turned to look at the younger man and saw the old lady cradling her son’s head in her lap. “Rodger, I can’t feel a pulse! Rodger do something!”

  “I’m trying Luce,” he huffed, as he tried to stretch his son’s body out. “You have to tilt his head back, clear his airway.”

  She was trying to suck in as much air as possible, but her lungs were aching and her head wouldn’t stop spinning. “Tell me I made it in time,” she croaked.

  Rodger was administering CPR as he told his wife to run and get the crash cart. He was pumping so hard that she was afraid he’d crack the boy’s ribs. “Come on Ben, don’t do this. You can’t do this son. Come back.”

  A tear was trickling down her cheek as she tried to sit herself up. Her elbow gave way and she crashed back down on the floor.

  “Ben! I won’t let you go. You can’t die like this. You have to live! I love you,” the old man choked, as he tried to force air into his son’s lungs.

  She could hear banging from outside the room and knew that Lucy was bringing the crash cart in. “Oh God, Ben, please!” the old woman yelled begging for her son to take a breath, to come back to them.

  Rodger had the paddles in his hand and as it beeped, she turned her head just in time to watch the old man yell, “clear!” He put the paddles to the young man’s chest, the body spasming in response.

  “Clear!”

  “Again!”

  “CLEAR!”

  She blacked out.

  Chapter 28

  Dairy Queen

  Todd

  Wilcox, AZ

  The city of San Simon had seemed deserted as they flew through it, and after Duncan that was a welcome reprieve. They had only seen the occasional zombie since leaving there and he knew that it was only the calm before the storm.

  “All right, so—,” he began, turning to those in the Humvee with him, “I promised Samantha that I would check on her other husband. He was staying with his girlfriend and has been offline since shortly after we left town. Chances are, he’s long dead. But I’m sure that you understand that without knowing for sure, it’d haunt you as it’s haunting her. It’s literally along the way and will only cost us a few extra minutes to check. If any of you are uncomfortable with that, I’ll go check it by myself.”

  “To hell you will,” Sabrina snarked from the back. “You ain’t doing shit by yourself.”

  The others nodded their heads with the exception of his father, who appeared to just be studying the countryside and ignoring the conversation altogether.

  “Nick, I need you to give me an idea of where we’re headed after that. I was expecting a GPS update from Ben by now and I didn’t have your grandmother’s address programmed into my phone,” he said, trying not to let the worry leach into his voice.

  He should have heard something by now.

  “It’s on Old Spanish Trail,” his son told him, “near Houghton.”

  “Oh, that’ll be easier than I was imagining,” Sabrina said in a lighter tone. “I thought we were going to have to actually head into town, but Houghton ain’t shit. We took it to I-10 on the way out of town, things weren’t as bad out there.”

  “That was yesterday,” he returned. “Believe it or not, a lot has changed since then.”

  “No shit, my question is why?” the young Hispanic woman asked. Her tone was snarky and he couldn’t help but feel it grate under his skin.

  Rosilynn took the question from him, probably sensing his retort coming on. “Why what? Why is it worse?”

  “Why is it spreading so fucking fast?” Sabrina returned. “I’ve seen the maps, I know it’s everywhere. But we are like, what? Day three? How the hell did things go to shit so fast? This just doesn’t make any sense.”

  He glanced in Joseph’s direction, but the sniper only shook his head and focused on his driving. He had been careful not to get intertwined with most of their discussions since his return and he wondered what the big guy thought of all this going on.

  He looked towards the highway ahead, the US 191 overpass was coming up; the Safford exit sign flying past and out of sight. Wilcox was only fifteen minutes further up the road. The Humvee’s top speed was 70mph and he saw that Joseph was pushing around 65mph. They would have to stop at the Thing and hope that it wasn’t overrun, or they might have to start using the gas reserves to keep going.

  “It’s the nature of the virus,” Rosilynn responded. “If this was the traditional movie virus, then we would see more of a controlled spread of the contagion through physical means of infection. Only those coming in contact with the infected would turn, leading to an outward growth rather than the sporadic hodpodge that we have seen.”

  “Is hodpodge a clinical term doctor?” he chipped in and got a very dirty look in return.

  Rosilynn took a drink of water, then continued, ignoring him completely. “From what we’ve heard, this thing is an airborne virus, one that practically had free reign for at least twenty-four hours before it began to show its true colors. During that time, it spread across the globe, infecting people on a massive scale. Because it has no outward symptoms, we could have contracted it and spread it ourselves unknowingly; there’s no way to determine who was infected or not without blood test.”

  “I’ve seen the maps of the spread, there were outward growths,” Sabrina returned. “It spread out of Phoenix before it ever reached Tucson.”

  Rosilynn was nodding. “That’s because that’s where the outbreaks were taking their first physical contribution to the spread of the plague. If you remembe
r, all the major population centers were hit first, mostly areas with large airports. You see, this thing activates upon brain death, so until someone with the plague actually died, the outbreak hadn’t begun. But as they did, they reanimated and started killing others, creating panic. During the panic, more people died, either from crashes or from being trampled by the fleeing masses, and that created even more. As first responders rushed to the hospitals, the most likely place the outbreaks began, others were trying to flee the city. As accidents and murders occurred in the ensuing chaos, the virus reanimated the dead, creating a near impossible task of containment. Because of how long the virus went unchecked, this was happening everywhere and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it; it was already too late. If things hadn’t been so chaotic, it might have been different, and that’s why the government shut down all the communications; they were trying to stop people from killing each other in their attempts to escape. Instead, it only made it worse and more people died—then turned. On top of that, you have all the misinformed idiots out there shooting anyone that comes into physical contact with these creatures and that just thinned out our resistance even more.”

  “I still can’t believe the military has already pulled back,” his father said. As a veteran, he was proud of his armed forces, and to see them retreat like that had stung his father more than he had imagined. He saw it on the older man’s face as he spoke again, “you never leave a man behind.”

  “This wasn’t a single battle they were facing, but millions, as people died from ordinary events or from getting killed by someone infected. Think about those first responders trying to get to those hospitals. Most of them were probably killed by the masses of infected in the hospitals alone. I was in Lake Havasu when something similar began to happen there. Without them, no one was answering the 911 calls. That means anyone that died from natural causes, from robberies, from murders, anyone with their brain still intact, rose from the dead and began eating the closest people to them. Grandpa passes away in his sleep, then reanimates to get his midnight snack,” she quipped.

  “Rosilynn, that’s horrible,” he told her.

  “But accurate,” she responded with a sad smile.

  “Still seems too fast,” Sabrina remarked softly.

  He happened to agree with her, but what could he say? He could only imagine how quickly this shit got out of hand, as the misinformed masses responded to creatures out of nightmares. He wondered how many sick fucks had simply walked up to their loved ones and offered themselves, rather than kill and try to live without them.

  He was sure he never wanted to know.

  “Dad? What are they doing?” his son asked looking out the side window.

  He turned his head and watched as a truck full of beer guzzling rednecks stood in the back of a large black 4x4 truck, shooting stray zombies in the pastures who didn’t have time to turn before getting blown apart by shotgun blasts.

  “The pride of Humanity fast at work,” he sighed.

  Well, at least they were being useful and clearing their way back.

  “Wilcox doesn’t look as bad, want to stop for gas?” Joseph asked, but he only shook his head.

  “We can stop at the Thing up the road, it’s only twenty minutes further,” he replied quickly.

  “The Thing?” the sniper asked, an eyebrow raised. He pointed to the signs that showed up every thirty or so seconds along the highway and the man peered at them in confusion. “What the hell is that?”

  “Novelty shop,” his father responded before he could say anything. “Dairy Queen and gas.”

  “Oh Dad, Dairy Queen!” the kid in Nick exclaimed with fresh excitement.

  “Not happening son,” he returned. His phone was vibrating and he saw that his wife was calling. “Hey Hon, just made it through Wilcox, how are things there?” he asked, but he got no response. He could hear yelling in the background and screams. “Monica are you there? Are you okay? Hello? What the hell is happening?”

  Chapter 29

  God Forgive Me

  Monica

  Compound 2

  She could hear voices and she moaned as she swam back to consciousness. There were multiple conversations going on and she couldn’t keep up with them. Her head felt heavy and she was having a hard time focusing.

  What happened? Where am I?

  “Not looking good for Ben there,” a familiar voice said from above her.

  “You goddamn motherfucker. If something happens to him I swear to God—.”

  Laughter cut her off. “You’re in New York, Honey, and you have no way of actually getting in here even if you did show up. Had to take up residence in the backup compound, afraid the other one is full of walkers at the moment.”

  “You son of a bitch!” she heard a woman scream. “You murdered those innocent people that believed in you, that worshipped you for what you provided them, and you don’t have the decency enough to end what you started? Put them out of their misery!”

  “Nah, they make for great entertainment. None of my shows are on tonight. This one guy keeps walking into a door like it’s going to magically open. Dumbass.”

  “You sick son of a bitch!”

  “Lucy, you need to let go of him. Hon, he’s gone.”

  “No no no no nnnoooooooooooooo!” she heard a woman’s high pitch wail and she winced at the sudden burst of terror. Then there was a scurry of feet across the tile floor and the sound of someone trying to open the door. “I forgot the adrenaline, I’ll go get the adrenaline. Don’t stop Rodger! Keep pumping!”

  “Hon, I’m sorry, but it was in the cart, I already tried that. Come here Hon, you need to say goodbye.”

  “Afraid he’s long gone sister,” that same awful voice sneered from above and she was slowly coming to realize she knew who it was; Sean. He was taunting them over the network, had probably watched the whole fucking thing with delight.

  “Shut the fuck up you fucking monster!” Rodger screamed. “You did this! You’re the reason he’s dead! I’m going to come up there and tear your fucking heart out, you son of a bitch!”

  She had never heard the man cuss before and his face was red, spittle flying from his foaming mouth. She had a sudden worry about his heart and wanted to try and calm him down, but her limbs were sluggish and it was hard for her to even turn on her side.

  The door slid open as the old woman twisted the knob, but she was too busy watching the scene with her husband and Sean to notice what was standing on the other side of the doorway. “Lucy!” she tried to call, but her voice was nothing but a croak. She watched in horror as the dead corpse of Marisol reached forward and embraced Lucy from behind, sinking her teeth into the woman’s neck.

  “Oh, I should have brought popcorn!” she heard Sean say as she was desperately trying to get up.

  She wanted to yank the computer cord from the wall and cut off the show for the asshole watching them all die, but there were other priorities that had to come first. She had to find a way to end this quickly, or else they’d all be walking around in search of their unsuspecting friends as a food source.

  “Rodger, look out!” came a young woman’s voice again and she was just getting up on one knee when Ben suddenly opened his dead eyes and jerked in his kneeling father’s direction. The old man had been rising to go to his wife’s aid and had forgotten his dead son at his feet. He was drug back down, as the young man that he had fathered and watched grow for two decades, tore into the soft wrinkled flesh of his gut, spilling intestines onto the floor below.

  She had finally gotten to her feet just as Lucy fell to her knees, hands wrapped around her throat. Marisol had a large chunk of flesh she had torn from the old woman’s shoulder and was busy trying to swallow it. Undead eyes flashed in her direction as Lucy crashed face down on the tile, blood gushing from her neck wound; turning the gray floor dark crimson as she bled out.

  Monica reached for her gun and fear stole into her as she remembered she had taken off her holster while at the
stables so that her daughter could lay against her unhindered. She hadn’t grabbed it on the way out. As Marisol stepped forward, she slipped in the blood and went down quickly, breaking one hand from the force of the impact.

  Rodger was moaning, but she knew that would soon come to an end as Ben had now nearly crawled into the old man’s belly, tearing loose organs and flesh in his feeding frenzy. She looked about for a weapon but didn’t see shit. As the undead Hispanic woman tried to get back to her feet, her mind raced to figure something out, but feared that this was the end.

  She thought she heard someone in the distance calling her name. Were they fallen family members calling her to the next life?

  “No!” she yelled.

  She wasn’t ready yet.

  She grasped one of the monitors, yanked the cord out and as Marisol lunged over the two fallen men in the center of the room, she brought it around and smashed it against the woman’s head. The plasma screen exploded and she heard a sickening crunch as Marisol was flung sideways mid-leap. She wrapped the cord around her hand and with both hands, grasped it, then swung it around and down. The monitor smashed through the collapsed skull of her attacker and splintered into pieces. Leaning down, she grabbed up a piece of glass, her palm slicing open, but she barely noticed it as she turned towards the writhing men on the floor.

  She went down on one knee and plunged the shard of glass into Rodger’s belly, piercing Ben’s skull. She drove it as far as she could, tears streaming from her eyes, until there was nothing left to grip. Her fingers slid off the end of the sharp surface and her eyes looked to the old man dying on the floor before her.

  “You have to kill me,” he grunted between breaths.

  “I don’t know if I can,” she groaned back. Her tears were cascading freely now as she looked at the old couple and their dead son dying together on the floor.

  He tried to raise his head. He didn’t have the strength, but his voice was still strong, if only for the moment. “You have no choice. Don’t let me become one of those things. Please,” he begged. “Let me be with my wife and son.”