Forsaken World (Book 1): Innocence Lost

by Watson, Thomas A.

  Ian moved to his side and saw the man stumbling down the street. “Hey, that’s old man Potter. I thought he quit drinking.”

  “Doesn’t look like it,” Lance said. “Let’s play another game and see if we can still hear sirens. If we do, we’ll call Jason.”

  “Fine. I’m going to wipe any newb we find off the screen,” Ian said, spinning around.

  They returned to the game but turned down the volume until they could barely hear it and started playing. The game was just underway when they heard Jason’s car pull up. They didn’t even leave the game; they just ran to the front of the house, looking out the side windows to see Jason get out of his car. They ran to the front door, and Ian turned off the alarm and opened it.

  The smell of something burning washed over them as they waited on Jason. “That’s a house fire,” Lance said in a low voice.

  “Yeah, I remember it when we rode with the fire department to help with our merit badge,” Ian whispered.

  “What are you squirts doing outside?” Jason asked, coming up the steps.

  “Jason, what’s going on?” Ian asked as Jason pushed them back in the house.

  “The riots are here,” he said, turning to close the door and turning on the alarm to lock it.

  “Should we call Mom and Dad?” Ian asked as Jason headed to the kitchen.

  “No, they are on the other side of the world, and it would only worry them,” he said, turning on the kitchen light, making both boys gasp not from the light but from Jason.

  “What the hell happened to your arm?” Lance asked, pointing at a bandage on Jason’s left upper arm.

  “Got bit,” Jason said, pulling out a jug of orange juice.

  “Melody bit you?” Ian cried out, looking at the huge hickey on Jason’s neck.

  Wiping his mouth off, Jason said, “No, some guy that wouldn’t quit beating on my car.” Both boys stared at him. “We were parked down by the river, getting the nasty freak on, and some guy just comes up beating on my car. I got out, and he charged me, so I punched him, then one of his friends came up behind me and bit my arm like a sissy. Neither of them tried to fight me, only grab and bite me like little bitches.”

  Lance looked at Jason’s shirt and pants, noticing blood splatters on the front and a long smear on his back. “How did you get blood all over you?”

  “Beat the shit out of them,” Jason said, holding up both fists and they could see the bruises and cuts on his knuckles.

  “You hit them more than once and didn’t knock them out?” Ian asked in disbelief.

  “Shit, they had to be on something, but I finally pounded one in the face till he didn’t get back up,” Jason grinned, pulling off his shirt. “The blood on the back is from Melody. One of their girlfriends ran up and bit her while I was kicking the shit out of the guys.”

  “You have to call the police!” Lance shouted.

  “Hey dumb ass,” Jason snapped. “I wasn’t supposed to be there.”

  “But—” Lance started, and Jason held up his hand.

  “We did call the cops, but they put us on hold. I took Melody to the hospital, but there were a dozen ambulances and cop cars there, so I just took her home, and her mom bandaged us up,” Jason said as he pulled his t-shirt off, and they saw several more hickeys on his body.

  “Damn, are you sure Melody didn’t bite you?” Ian asked, raising his eyebrows.

  Throwing his shirts across the kitchen into the laundry basket, Jason said, “You need to chill, squirt.” He took another drink of orange juice. “Why are all the lights off?”

  “We didn’t want anyone to know we were home,” Ian said.

  Jason nodded. “That’s good; a cop at the hospital said the rioters were after people,” he said, yawning. “I’m beat, guys. Wake me if you need to.”

  They watched Jason head out and heard him walk up the steps. “Should we call Ms. Penny?” Ian asked.

  “What can she do? Jason’s taken care of, and the house is locked. If we call her, she will just have to get out in the riots,” Lance said.

  Nodding, Ian groaned, “Yeah, you’re right. But be damned if I’m going to sleep.”

  “Let’s fix some coffee.”

  Ian grinned. “Lots of cream and sugar,” he said, moving over to the coffee pot.

  They walked back to the living room at the front of the house and stood back from the windows, sipping their coffee. They both jumped upon hearing a gunshot. “That was in the neighborhood,” Ian said as a faint scream resonated outside.

  “So was that,” Lance said with a shiver.

  “Fuck this; I’m playing a game,” Ian mumbled, walking away from the window. “You joining me?”

  “Not yet. Let me finish my coffee,” Lance said, taking a sip.

  As Lance stood looking out the window, he heard Ian changing disks and soon heard the Resident Evil theme playing quietly from the den. “Ian, you’re very weird,” Lance mumbled, looking over at Carrie and Jennifer’s house.

  He grinned, thinking of Jennifer. Lance wasn’t blind or stupid. Jennifer was hot on so many scales it should be illegal. But her dad worked for the Attorney General, and even to Lance’s young mind, that was enough to turn him away. Ian could care less if Jennifer’s dad was on the FBI’s most wanted list.

  “Hope they’re okay,” he mumbled, sipping his coffee as another gunshot sounded off close, making him jump. Then, he heard gunshots closer and looked down the street past his house and saw the flashes as someone shot rapidly at a person following them. Lance took a step closer to the window, watching the person running down the street popping off rounds behind them.

  When a person darted from behind a car, tackling the shooter, Lance jumped back as the person that was chasing the shooter dove on the pile. With the full moon and street lights, he could see they were fighting, but the two seemed to be trying to bite the shooter as the shooter hit at them. As one leaned down, Lance heard a scream and knew that the shooter was a man on the ground.

  As two more people came out of the shadows and joined the pile, one of the attackers lifted his head as the others leaned down, making the man scream again. “What the fuck,” Lance mumbled, stepping closer to the window. The group was several houses past Doug’s house which was across the street and a lot down from his house, but Lance swore the fronts of the attackers were now soaked in blood. “Did he stab them?” he asked out loud as the attackers lowered their heads again.

  Seeing movement out to the corner of his eye, he turned looking past Jennifer’s house to see a group of people stagger down the street. “Shit,” he mumbled, stepping back as his heart started beating out of his chest. Making a quick count of nineteen, Lance watched the way they moved.

  Their bodies weren’t moving fluidly like normal people but instead with small jerks. The group wasn’t running, but they damn sure weren’t walking either—more like a trot. Lance knew he could easily outrun them but noticed another group coming off the main road in the subdivision, turning down their street that was slightly bigger, and they were fast-walking.

  Stepping back from the window, Lance almost dropped his coffee mug as his hands trembled. Setting it on a small table, he looked over to the open door of the den and saw the light from the TV pouring out. Moving over to the door, he watched Ian shoot the zombies on the game then looked back at the window at the crowd moving past the house. Walking into the den, Lance grabbed the remote and turned the TV off thinking the people outside were moving like the zombies on the game.

  “Dude, I was kicking ass,” Ian snapped, and Lance stepped over, putting his finger on Ian’s lips. Ian’s eyes got wide as Lance stepped back into the living room, easing up to the window, almost expecting the crowd to be gone since the game was off, but the last of the group was in front of the house. “What’s wrong with them?” Ian whispered beside him.

  “I don’t know, but they are attacking people out there,” Lance whispered as a gunshot popped off across the street, and the crowd converged on the hous
e.

  “That’s Mr. Baker’s house,” Ian said, moving closer to the window.

  “He should’ve stayed his ass inside,” Lance said as the group closed in on a lone figure in the front yard shooting at the group with a pistol. Slap they heard in the sitting room beside them as a bullet slammed through the window into the wall. “That idiot shot into the house.”

  “Lance, they are attacking him,” Ian said as the group dove on the figure.

  “I’m calling the police,” Lance whispered, running for the phone as screams erupted from across the street.

  “Think I should wake Jason?”

  “Let’s get the police here first,” Lance said, picking up the phone and pressing 911. He listened to the ringing for several minutes. “I expected them to answer faster than this. They do on TV,” he said, looking at the display and seeing he had been listening for six minutes.

  Hanging up the phone, Lance looked up as Ian eased up the stairs, afraid his footsteps could be heard outside. Lance followed him up and found Ian standing outside of Jason’s door, tapping softly and whispering, “Jason, we need you.”

  “What the hell smells like rotten eggs?” Lance asked, looking around.

  “Shit if I know,” Ian said, trying the handle and finding it was locked. “Damn it, Ooops, quit beating off, and open the door,” he whispered harshly as another scream sounded outside.

  “That was a woman,” Lance said, heading back to the stairs.

  “That bitch better stay the fuck outside,” Ian whispered and followed Lance downstairs. He stopped as Lance didn’t head to the window but to the den. When he came back carrying the shotgun, Ian took off and grabbed the AR.

  “Is one in the chamber?” Lance asked, slowly pumping the shotgun to load a round in the chamber.

  “Hell no. We don’t store them with one in the pipe.”

  “Get in the closet under the stairs, and rack one in,” Lance said, easing the slide forward, chambering the round.

  “Why?”

  “That damn thing is loud when you let the bolt go to load a round. We don’t want anyone out there to know we are in here.”

  Nodding, Ian said, “Be back in a second,” and disappeared in the closet. Lance cringed upon hearing the bolt slam forward, but nothing outside looked toward them. “Shit, that was loud,” Ian said, coming out of the closet.

  “I’m going to try and call my mom and dad,” Lance said, moving to the den.

  Ian followed and asked, “What can they do?”

  Lance spun around, snapping in a whisper, “They can tell me what the fuck to do? I don’t know of a merit badge that covers riot situations and defending your home and family.”

  “I’ll keep watch as you call,” Ian said, moving to the front of the house.

  “Don’t stand in the window; they could see you. Stand back in the shadows,” Lance said, walking in the den. He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and turned to see Allie snoring softly. Grabbing a blanket, he covered her up then thumbed his phone on and tapped his dad’s number.

  “All circuits are busy; please try your call later,” a female computer voice told him.

  “Fuck you, bitch; I want my mom and dad,” Lance said, tapping his mom’s number, but he got the same message. He walked over to the house phone and dialed his dad’s number and got the same reply. Groaning, he hung up and tried calling his house and heard the phone ring and the answering machine pick up after the fourth ring.

  “Any luck?” Ian said, coming back to him.

  Lance shook his head as he hung up the house phone. “You can’t call a cellphone. It says all circuits are busy.” He tried Ian’s dad’s number from his cellphone and got the same message.

  “What the fuck do we do? What’s wrong with those people? I just watched them take down Ms. Kimble. I swear they were biting her,” Ian said, looking back toward the front of the house.

  “How the hell am I supposed to know what to do?”

  “Well, think of something,” Ian snapped as a scream sounded just outside the front of the house. “That was in the yard.”

  “It better stay there,” Lance said, holding his shotgun in trembling hands.

  “Someone needs help,” Ian said, moving to the windows.

  Grabbing Ian’s arm, Lance spun him around and snapped in a low voice, “You better rectify, motherfucker. If we go out there, they will come in here. Think about it.”

  “Someone needs help,” Ian said as another scream sounded.

  “If we go out there, that will be us screaming then Allie.”

  “Fine, let’s see who it is since we aren’t going to help,” Ian said as tears ran down his face.

  “Ian, I want to help, but we can’t if we want to live through this shit.”

  “I know, but it seems cowardly to be hiding like this.”

  Shaking his head and moving up beside his friend, Lance said, “No, it’s smart, Ian. We think before we act.” They stopped several feet back from the window so they couldn’t be seen from outside and saw three men on top of a woman they had pinned to the ground. There was no denying it anymore when they watched one lean down and bite the woman’s shoulder.

  “Oh my God, that’s Ms. Patricia from across the street,” Ian moaned as she fought off the group.

  “That’s Mr. Kimble, his son, and Mr. Rodgers attacking her,” Lance mumbled as Patricia screamed again when Mr. Kimble bit her arm, tearing away a chunk of meat. Ian puked as blood shot out of Patricia’s arm, and she screamed.

  Feeling dizzy and his legs getting weak, Lance bent over and puked beside Ian as Patricia screamed again. Leaning up, Ian ran his forearm across his mouth. “I’m going to shoot Jason’s damn lock off,” he mumbled as Lance stood up beside him.

  “Look, she’s getting away,” Lance said, grabbing his arm.

  Patricia was on her feet, hitting her attackers with everything she was worth. They heard glass breaking upstairs, and a loud thump hit the roof over the porch. “They climbed up to Jason’s window?” Ian asked, stepping away and turning to run upstairs as a figure fell off the porch roof and landed hard. The porch was several feet off the ground, and they watched as the figure slowly stood up.

  “Oh fuck me,” Lance said, backing up and watching Jason stand, lunge toward Patricia, and grab her shoulders. Picking her up off the ground, he pulled her to his face as Patricia screamed. They watched Jason’s face dive at Patricia’s neck, and the scream cut off like a switch.

  When Jason pulled his head back, a fountain of blood shot in the air in spurts as Patricia’s mouth moved, but nothing came out. They both saw the huge hole Jason had bitten in her neck. “Why did Jason attack her?” Ian asked, moving to the front door.

  Lance grabbed his arm. “Before you open that door, let me get Allie out of here.”

  “That’s my brother,” Ian snapped.

  “He’s like the others now; he just killed Ms. Patricia.”

  “Maybe she did something to him,” Ian said, looking back outside with tears now pouring out of his eyes.

  “Leave my wife alone!” they heard outside.

  They turned to see Ms. Patricia’s husband run at Jason with a bat. He cracked Jason across the head, and Jason’s massive body didn’t budge but he did drop Patricia. Jason spun to his attacker and lunged, catching Patricia’s husband and taking him to the ground. Patricia’s husband wasn’t much bigger than either of the boys, and Jason’s enormous body smothered him. Jason lowered his head as the man fought back feebly.

  “He’s killing him,” Ian sobbed quietly.

  Not looking away from the grotesque scene, Lance put a hand on Ian’s shoulder and felt his body shake as he cried softly. “I loved Jason too,” Lance said, catching his breath as tears ran down his face.

  “How? He was just talking to us,” Ian sobbed, looking up as Patricia’s husband stopped screaming as others dove on the pile.

  Pulling Ian back as more came into the yard, it suddenly hit Lance. “He was bit.”


  “You need to stop, Lance. This isn’t a zombie movie or game. How did this infect Jason?”

  “Then how do you explain it? Ian, he just walked off the roof over the porch,” Lance said, looking outside as Jason stood up. “He broke his leg,” Lance said, pointing.

  Ian looked out at his brother and noticed his right leg was bent at a weird angle, but that didn’t seem to bother Jason as he hobbled down the street. Another scream sounded. “That’s not my brother anymore,” Ian said, wiping the tears off his face.

  “I’m going to check Jason’s room,” Lance said, moving toward the stairs, and Ian followed. “No, one of us needs to stay down here in case one gets in. Allie’s alone.”

  “I’ll stay,” Ian said with a snorting sob.

  “I’ll be right back,” Lance said, turning for the stairs. “Why didn’t the alarm go off when the window upstairs broke?”

  “None of the windows upstairs are alarmed,” Ian said, moving to the den. “I’m going to wake Allie in case we need to move fast.”

  Thinking that was a good idea but not liking it, Lance nodded as he eased upstairs, bringing the shotgun up to his shoulder. As he reached Jason’s door, the rotten egg smell made his eyes water. Trying the door and still finding it locked, Lance went to Ian’s room and dug in his backpack, pulling out a pocket knife.

  Moving back to Jason’s door, Lance drove the blade between the latch and door frame and pried as he pushed on the door. A loud ping sounded as the door flew open. Startled, Lance brought up the shotgun as his eyes watered from the smell. “There’s no sulfur here, so where the hell is the smell coming from?” he mumbled, seeing Jason’s empty bed and the busted window.

  Easing closer and looking down the street, he saw Jason’s massive form heading to a house past Doug’s with a large group. Looking off toward town, Lance saw fires off in the distance and could hear lots of gunfire way off with the open window. He left the room and closed the door then looked down and saw he had broken the blade of his pocket knife. “Told Dad that was a cheap knife.”