by Maxey, Phil
Contents
Title page
Copyright
Disclaimer
Book One Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Book Two Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Book Three Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Book Four Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Book Five Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Book Six Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Thank you
The Scourge: The Complete Series
Books 1 - 6
by
Phil Maxey
Copyright © 2020 by Philip Maxey
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Printing, 2020.
https://www.philmaxeyauthor.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is purely coincidental.
BOOK ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Joel Garret moved his hands towards the small fire that was burning on the gas station floor.
“Yeah, get some of that warmth in you, with the smoke that’s building up, we’ll need to put it out soon,” said the man opposite him. The man then frowned. “And we can’t risk any of them knowing where we are. I want a good night’s rest this time.”
Joel nodded, his friend was right. He didn’t want to run into any more of the things that roamed the streets and homes after the sun went down.
Hungry.
“Tell me more about Jessica?” said Joel. He knew Russell liked talking about his family and he needed the distraction. Russell was convinced the
y could still be out there, and he and Russell had been traveling east from LA for the last few weeks, on a route which he said his wife and daughter had ‘travelled before.’
Russell looked thoughtful. “Well, she loves dragons. She’s always drawing them. Big bold purple dragons. On everything! Her bedroom wall, her lunchbox…” They both laughed. “She was—” He momentarily looked confused. “I mean, she’s a good kid.”
There was a moment of silence, before Russell offered Joel a candy bar.
Joel shook his head. “I’m good thanks.”
“Do you regret not having any? I mean, seeing how everything’s gone to shit over the past few months.”
Bloody images ran through Joel’s mind, but then he reclaimed his brain. “As long as there’re women in the world there’s still a chance, right?”
Need to eat.
Joel wiped his hand across his brow. His skin was getting warmer.
“You okay, buddy?” Russell looked concerned.
“Yeah, just tired.”
“You and me both.” Russell looked at the heap of burning wood enclosed in a small metal canister. “Think it’s time to put this fire out.” He pulled out some of the burning pieces of wood, stamping on each one, extinguishing the flames, then placed a sheet of metal over the canister putting out the others. The gas station room plunged into darkness and thick white smoke bellowed into the air through small gaps around the metal cylinder.
Russell fumbled around in his backpack for his flashlight, on finding it he switched it on, and pointed it at an empty spot where Joel was just sitting.
“Joel? Where are you?”
Joel staggered into the restroom and closed and locked the door behind him. He pulled his own flashlight from his jacket and switched it on. “Need a leak!” he shouted back through the stained door, with messages scrawled on it to contact a Ruby if the need arises.
He walked over to the water taps and tried to swallow. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, and the distant drum of his heartbeat was building in his chest.
He fell against the basin and lifted his heavy head towards the grime-laden cracked mirror. His bloodshot eyes looked upon a man he hardly recognized, with his beard, and small scars across his cheeks and forehead.
“Servare Vitas… Servare Vitas…”
He placed the flashlight on the counter, and spun the tap on the rusty faucet, which chugged, then spat out orange water. Cupping his hand beneath the stream he threw the cool liquid on his face.
I can’t do this. He’s a good man…
His grip tightened on the stained porcelain, as the pain surging through his body increased.
Have to resist…
He looked back up at his reflection. Blue veins across his face started to throb.
“No!”
A bang came at the restroom door. “You alright in there?”
Each impact on the frail wooden frame boomed in Joel’s mind.
“I’m going to get some rest, you should too, buddy,” said Russell.
Joel’s eyes inevitably began to turn black, but he fought against it anyway.
I won’t do this…
He pushed himself backwards against the broken tiles, some of which tumbled to the floor. He pleaded with the hunger inside him to stay dormant.
I… I…
Russell Hopkins raised his hand to hit the door again, but before it could land, the only obstruction between him and death exploded into splinters knocking him back against the oil-stained floor. As he tried to recover, a shadowy figure descended upon him, its jaws clamping down upon his neck. As his life ebbed away, his last thoughts were of his wife and daughter.
Joel dropped the lifeless body of his friend to the gas station floor and wiped the blood from his lips. As the hunger receded, guilt took its place.
What have I done…
*****
The sun streamed in through the glass of a third-floor balcony door, making the blonde hair of the slim woman making breakfast even more luminescent. She dropped a half burnt waffle on a plate and swore, sticking her finger into her mouth to cool it down.
Joel emerged from the bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his lower half.
“We have to pick Dan up in thirty minutes!” said the woman.
He walked over to his wife, ignored the charcoal breakfast and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer to him. Tarin giggled, trying to push him away.
“We’ve done enough of that until our next romantic getaway, now…” She looked down at her attempt at breakfast. “Maybe we can pick up some—” She noticed he wasn’t listening to her. She knew the look. “—What is it?”
He stepped back, tilting his head towards the outside glass door. “You hear that?”
“Hear what?” She picked up the waffle and let it slide into the plastic trash can. “Get ready! We have to leave in ten minutes!” She shook her head at him. “It’s probably seagulls.”
“Hmm, thought I heard something.” He let the towel drop to the hardwood floor. “I got this! I’ll go in naked, and come out ready to go, five minutes tops!”
Tarin waved at him to move faster.
Grabbing the towel, he walked into the bedroom, stepping over the wine bottles and lingerie, and pulled the suitcase up onto the bed and flipped it open.
Only green…
Usually, his wife brought his favorite color underwear on their twice-yearly ‘excursions’ but this time, for some reason, they were green. He sighed then stepped into them. The same noise he heard a few moments before echoed out in the distance. He frowned.
“What the hell is that?” he said under his breath, as he wandered over to where the early morning sun was seeping into the room. Pulling the drapes back he lifted the latch and pushed the window open. He looked out to the masts of luxury yachts and at gliding graceful birds, wings outstretched surfing the warm sea breeze.
He sighed. “Seagulls.”
He went to pull the window closed when a high-pitch screech filled the air.
That’s human.
He pushed the window further open and tried to ascertain from where the piercing noise had just come from.
Maybe the floor below?
“What you doing in there? We have to leave!” shouted Tarin from the other room.
“Hold on,” he shouted in reply. He quickly climbed into his pants, threw a shirt over his bare, toned chest, and pushed his feet into his sneakers.
He walked into the kitchen area, walking past Tarin and towards the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Just gotta check something out downstairs, there’s something going on.”
Tarin rolled her eyes. “Technically, we’re still on vacation. Can you not be HRT for ten minutes more?”
Joel held his hand up, while walking backwards. “Servare Vitas.”
Tarin rolled her eyes.
“I’ll go down, take a look, it will be nothing and I’ll come right back, then we can leave, okay?”
“Fine. But your parents won’t be happy if we show up late.” She looked around the mess across the living room floor. “I should probably clear some of this up before we leave.”
He stepped out into the hallway, closing the hotel room door quietly behind him. He was already listening for out-of-place sounds but there weren’t any. The carpeted corridor was as silent as a graveyard.
Where are the cleaners?
He quickly walked to the stairwell and descended, coming out onto the floor below. It was as silent as the one above.
He walked forward, listening close to the doors as he went, then realized one of them ahead was open as the sunlight was forming a bright spot on the wall opposite the room. He continued walking but slowed up as a noise coming from inside started to distract him.
What the fuck is that?
What sounded like something being repeatedly plunged into wet mud emanated from the doorway. With it came a strong metallic smell. He immediately felt his side for
his gun, then remembered it was still upstairs. He knew the smell, everyone in law enforcement did.
He looked about him for something to use as a weapon. The only thing vaguely useful was a vase on a small table, which he grabbed. He slowly walked forward until he could see into the room.
Red.
At first, he thought the room had been decorated completely in a deep crimson, then he saw it. A person on the floor, in the middle of a pool of blood gnawing on a human leg.
“What the…”
The man on the ground seemed uninterested in his audience.
Joel went to pull the hotel room door closed, keeping the man inside, when all around him screams erupted.
He instinctively ducked, looking at the closed doors around him.
What the fuck is going on.
Ignoring the scene in front of him, he ran back along the corridor and into the stairwell, immediately stopping. The walls were now covered in smears of blood. His mind tried to grapple with what he was seeing, but his instincts drove him forward, up the steps and back onto his own floor. As he ran forward, some of the doors were open. He glanced inside some of them, glimpsing other scenes of carnage, each one sending his mind further from reality. Eventually, he made it to his own room. The door was already open.
“Tarin!” he shouted as he ran inside. His eyes were immediately drawn to his wife sitting on the sofa, a man sat close next to her, so he could just see the top of her face.
A rasping noise wafted towards him with that familiar smell. “Joel…”
He ran forward, grabbing the man by his shoulder, and went to pull him back, when he saw what was left of his wife. As his world froze, the man turned to him, his eyes as black as coal.
Joel awoke screaming on the floor of the gas station, with the gray blue body of his friend laying next to him. His mouth felt like sandpaper, but he felt strong. He got to his feet avoiding looking at the dead thing next to him, and staggered back into the restroom, not needing to open the door for it laid on the oil-soaked floor in pieces.
The beam from his flashlight was hardly visible, but he didn’t need it. Walking to the basin, he also avoided looking into the mirror and flicked at the tap. Being turned on for hours, what little putrid water was left in the tank, had long since run away. He sighed, then walked back into the large workshop with walls of tool racks, and a blue sedan lying in bits on the shop floor.
