Undone: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series (Dawn of Deception Book 2)

by A. R. Shaw

  “What are you doing here?” Mae needed more than anything else to change the current subject.

  “I’m exploring.”

  “The past or the present?”

  Her sister turned to face her then. “You’ve grown up, Mae. When did that happen?”

  Without a beat missed, Mae said, “When the adults suddenly vanished.”

  She smiled, or rather, just the corner of her mouth lifted. “I’m here.”

  “Nearly.”

  “I’m going to the compound. I need to see it. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Why don’t you wait for Kent? He’ll take you.”

  “It’s not much farther. I want to walk. I need to.”

  Maybe she would be okay. Mae hoped so. “I can’t. I need to check on Mother.”

  Wren actually smiled then. It was beautiful. She touched Mae’s hair, brushing her bangs aside. “No, you don’t have to. Look out the window.”

  Mae hadn’t noticed the window out the back. Their mother was running along the wet shore, the ocean at her side. Ace was running with her. Her arms pushed in tune to her legs, stride after stride. Mae saw the path in the sand. She’d come a long way. She’d found her rhythm. Her mother, too, would be all right in time.

  43

  Sloane

  Sloane was worn but happy as the cold wind cooled the sweat on her neck and blew a delightful breeze beneath her ponytail. She felt free for the first time in a long time. Stronger. Capable. Thirsty.

  She made her way up from the shore to the gravel path leading to their home. He was still there. The guard. She’d wanted to kill him as she passed him earlier in the day. Instead, she flipped him double birds as she jogged past. That wasn’t like her, but she couldn’t verbalize the torment. He may not have acted of his own free will doing Hyde’s bidding, but he was a reminder of the worst of humanity, and she didn’t want him there.

  He shuffled his feet when he saw her now. Looked down at the road.

  Hating to admit it, she noticed he didn’t even carry a water bottle and yet he remained there all day. He’d lost weight since the incident. He reported to Kent as he came and left, letting him know who was there and who was not. He promised to call in any distress, any intruders. To defend them if needed. It was maddening. She didn’t want him there.

  She didn’t want him helping them. She didn’t trust him.

  She was going to just walk by, ignore him on her way back to the house. Maybe flip him the birds again; she hadn’t decided.

  Instead, she found herself stopping. “Where are they?”

  He looked confused. “They’re…dead. Most of them died. I mean…there’s still Astoria,” he said. “Oh…you meant the girls? The older ones went into town. The younger one is still inside.”

  Sloane swallowed. They damn well better be dead.

  “Yes, I meant the girls. Wait a minute…you said Astoria. Wasn’t Hyde the only one in charge?” She hated even having to say his name.

  Boyd stammered and blinked a few times, finally finding something interesting down at his feet again.

  Sloane lifted her eyebrow. Hands went to her hips automatically. “He’s not my husband. He’s Dr. Kent. And my name is Sloane. And you’d better tell me everything you know. Right now.”

  44

  Kent

  There was a group of them when he arrived that morning. Nearly thirty in all. Some had shovels and others held pickaxes slung over their shoulders. All had some kind of weapon strapped to their waists or thighs. When the weapon wasn’t visible, you assumed concealed carry. Even in Oregon, carrying a weapon daily became ordinary overnight.

  They came and went, and a few more new faces showed up every morning. Kent had never considered himself a leader of men. A healer of man, yes, but not a leader of them. He found himself delegating tasks a little more every day, though. As in the past, the one that conquered is made king.

  They came to him. Many told their stories. Many brought him food and rations for his family. They had a job to do. That job was destruction, but after three weeks of exploding, burying and burning, Kent had little else for these men to destroy. They still showed up. After burying all the bodies, leveling everything on the property, he found himself saying, “Here, beat this chunk of concrete into smaller chunks of concrete if it makes you feel better.” Their need for routine and vengeance was madness. He had to put a stop to it or they’d all end up something a little like Rose. He couldn’t let that happen. He could not aim at her again.

  He’d already made them take any vehicle that worked along the street-lined drive away. They’d torn down the wire-lined barbed fence. They’d fixed the dump truck that once gave him and Ace refuge and hauled off parts of the building, dumping them into the angry ocean. The destroying was done. The fires were out. They still showed up each day.

  Today was the day he’d propose a new task. Instead of destroying, they would build something. They’d cleansed themselves of madness. Oozed it out of their pores. He had to point them in a new direction because it didn’t seem like anyone else was up for the job.

  The tsunami had made ruins of much of the town. One building seemed serviceable. He believed it was an old coffee shop. If he remembered right, it was the Sleeping Monk Coffee Roasters. Everything salvageable was looted long ago. Damn, I could use a cup of coffee, he thought, just thinking of his past stops there. In the old days, when he walked in the inviting café, it seemed so warm against the cold oceanside. The coffees served warmed your hands against the chill. The roasted beans permeated the air. Even that inviting aroma was lost to the sea air now. At least the building still stood. They would start there. One place at a time. Since the roads were mostly cleared by previous management, they at least had some access through town.

  When he stepped out of the truck, there was already a marked difference in the people gathered there. They stood a little taller. It was a little thing, but it was something.

  “Good morning, folks.”

  Nods and murmurs all around.

  “You seem antsy to get to work. I too feel the need to move on. What more can we endure? Something good has to come of all of this and we have to make that happen by pure will alone. Nothing good will be handed to us again. We have to fight for it.” He looked them each in the eyes to see if they understood his meaning.

  “We’ll start right here and work our way around town. Cleaning up this mess. We’ll make connections with good neighboring communities after that. See if we can get some trade going on.”

  “You’re a fool if you think Astoria will leave us alone,” came a raspy voice Kent hadn’t heard before.

  He looked around to see where it came from. A woman stood in the back, shorter than the others. “You’re deceiving these people if you think this has ended with the death of Hyde. Once they hear what happened, they’re coming for us.”

  The crowd parted to reveal her fully.

  “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

  “Did you think Hyde was the leader?” She stood there, slight in frame, long white unruly hair strewn down her shoulders. A few missing teeth revealed their gaps as she spoke. The elements were harsh, but this woman seemed as if she belonged to this world.

  “How do you know this? Why hasn’t anyone mentioned Astoria before?”

  “Not everyone knows. Have you found all the stuff they stole from all those families? Those secrets pried out of his victims? No. You haven’t,” she said, shaking her head.

  He wasn’t sure why, but Kent suddenly felt his hand sweating over his sidearm. He wanted to kill her, and he wasn’t sure why. She was twisted somehow. Twisted like Rose.

  The old man who guarded the prison spoke up then. “She’s right. There were rumors Hyde came from a bigger organization in Astoria. And we have no idea where all the supplies they took went to. You ought to listen.”

  Then the stories came pouring in. Bits and pieces began to fit together. Things that made no sense before started to fall into a
predictable place now. He and Sloane had often questioned who was behind it all. Who drove the trucks that rumbled by their hideout home? Who was it that broke into Sloane’s house that night and sent them fleeing for their lives into the woods? Was it the government? FEMA? Was it a militia? In time, they forgot about the questions. It didn’t matter. The labels ceased to exist. No one was there to save them. Everyone was the enemy.

  Until now…he never really understood. He’d always thought FEMA was a good and necessary government program. They helped people, right? They went into the storm as others fled. That was their job. What they’d trained for.

  However, as he heard the stories of so many, he learned that human nature does what it does best…survives.

  In a time of crisis, a sadistic bully will take advantage in a power vacuum. He’ll stop at nothing to shape the world in his own image. Even in the military, someone below you is always vying for your position. And in a time of crisis, what a better chance to take the advantage, deserved or not. History has repeated this same scene over and over. The most well-meaning programs break down and human nature—greed specifically—takes over. Life becomes survival of the fittest, resulting in few haves and many more have-nots. A land of kings and slaves once more.

  Kent had learned that Hyde was a career military leader. He knew how to get things done. Move men. Procure supplies. He was also a history buff. It was his job to lead teams into the fire. He was good at ordering people around. Saving lives. He was also good at other things. Like getting information from locals without oversight. He was good at intimidation. He was very good at torture. He enjoyed using proven historical methods to obtain information. Only this time the crisis of the day was the real deal. When he realized things would not return to normal, he helped orchestrate the fall of power in place, usurping those on the rungs above him.

  This is what Kent pieced together from the locals. Some of it had to be made up. Other bits he didn’t doubt. The one thing that sent a tingle up Kent’s spine…the rumors of them. They’d been organized. Hyde was only a cog in a wheel.

  Hyde wasn’t the at the top. He was just a supply man. The king was in Astoria, only twenty-five miles to the north. As they stood there talking, Kent said, “Wait, the only thing I remember about Astoria is the big bridge. Other than that, it’s always seemed a drive-through town. Kind of on the dirty side.”

  The old man said, “Yeah, it’s on the mouth of the Columbia. Lots of logging and fishing in the region in the old days. Before the fall, Astoria had a 70% higher crime rate than the national average.”

  “Why? That seems crazy.”

  “That’s what happens when an industry dies. Mostly lower income families. Gang activity and theft took over.”

  It took a while to sink in, and he was sure the expression on his own face reflected the shock of those around him just making the same connections. “So…what you’re all saying is that Hyde belonged to an organized crime ring most likely located in Astoria. So, if that’s true, then there are more communities like ours around us being taken advantage of by this ring. The supplies stolen were most likely carried to Astoria.”

  If Kent felt any remorse at all for killing the cigar guy, he didn’t now. He didn’t hesitate to kill him because of the girls he brought to the compound and the way he’d treated them. He didn’t want him relaying any information to anyone. He did away with him right then, right there. No questions. Though he wasn’t aware of the extent of this far-reaching cancer.

  It wasn’t over yet.

  “Fixing up the town isn’t our first priority,” Kent said. “Defense is.”

  “You got that part right,” the little old lady said.

  One of them watching the exchange said, “Look, we’ve gotta start somewhere. We can’t let this happen again. I say we do both. Start cleaning up the town and work on security at the same time.”

  “We’ll need more people. Look around you. We don’t have enough here to form a baseball team,” said another before he spit on the ground.

  “That’s debatable,” someone yelled.

  They were getting impatient.

  “Ah...there’s more of us. We’re just waiting to see who to follow. I’m one of many. I report back to them. I know you are too, Dale.”

  Kent followed the line of sight and the quiet man named Dale nodded. “You are each leading a smaller group, coming in to help each day and reporting back?”

  “Family mostly. It’s dangerous out there. We don’t know who to trust. So far we trust you.”

  “Wait.” Kent put his hands up. “I didn’t set out to lead a town. I just wanted to destroy the Hyde, when it was just Hyde.”

  “And you did. Now there’s more to do.”

  “You got us into this mess,” the old lady reminded him.

  Though he ignored her, she was right in a disturbing way. “All right, look. The first thing we need to do is actively recruit more people. We can’t do this with a skeleton crew. Tomorrow…” he began but something caught his eye. It was Sloane coming down the road. God, he hoped she hadn’t killed the guard. She was mad enough. “Tomorrow, bring everyone you know who’s willing to come. We’ve got to organize. We need to start somewhere. Defense is a top priority.”

  45

  Wren

  “Duck down,” Wren said suddenly when she felt a rumble underneath her feet. Shards of the glass-strewn floor crunched beneath the soles of their boots.

  They both crouched below the blown-out window as the trucks rambled by down the winding one-lane street.

  Mae peeked over the ledge first. “It’s only Kent and the others. I heard him talking last night about fixing up the old coffee shop. They’re going to renovate the town starting in the center there.”

  Wren too looked over the rim. Her hand shook as she clasped the windowsill. She noticed her shaking fingers and when she looked up she saw that Mae had too.

  “It’s going to be okay. We fought back, and we won. Everything is going to be okay now. You’ll see.”

  Shaking her head, Wren said, “No…that’s what you don’t understand. It’ll never be okay again.”

  Mae didn’t argue with her.

  After the last car passed them by, Wren took her sister’s hand and led her out of the store. “Come on…let’s go to the site.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Kent? He’ll want to be there.”

  “No…I need to do this. You can stay here if you want.”

  “I’m coming, but why are we hiding from them?”

  “I don’t want anyone to stop me. Are you coming or not?”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  46

  Sloane

  Nicole jumped from her place at the radio desk when Sloane opened the door.

  She didn’t mean to scare the girl. “Where are your sisters?” Looking around for the others, they were nowhere in sight.

  “They…went into town.”

  Pulling off her sweat-soaked shirt, she replaced it with one of Kent’s larger sweaters in a hurry. The last thing she needed was a chill from her own sweat. “Where were they headed?”

  “I…don’t know. I’m sure they’re coming back soon.”

  Throwing a few things into a cinch bag and then checking to see if she had a round in the chamber of her Glock, and a full magazine, Sloane pushed the gun into her thigh holster before she went to the door.

  “Radio me if they return while I’m gone. Tell Kent I’m going after them.”

  “But…” Nicole began to say as she closed the door.

  She understood the need for normal, but this wasn’t the time. The things the guard told her made her understand that even more. They weren’t safe. They were fooling themselves into thinking they’d ever be safe here or anywhere else.

  This time when she passed Boyd, she cast her eyes to the ground. She didn’t glare at him, throw him an insult, nothing like that. She couldn’t look at him yet…that would take time. For now, she just didn’t insult him.
r />   At a brisk jog, Sloan ran into town with the intent of running all the way to the site. That’s what she called it now. There were other names, but she wasn’t going to even give the place credit for those names, like Auschwitz, a place of death and torture. No…she wasn’t even going to it credit. Just the site.

  She knew in time Wren would want to go there. Face the place. Though she never expected her to want to do that so soon. She wasn’t ready. Sloane wasn’t ready for her to be ready either.

  Sloane brushed the side of her eye as she ran. The moisture wasn’t there because of the wind, it was there because of the pain. Not hers but Wren’s.

  As she ran the last meandering corner the town came into view and she slowed suddenly. There were vehicles parked around a building. “Oh…he’s doing that today.”

  He’d asked her to come with him that morning. She refused, saying she needed a run and she wanted to stay there with the girls. He was trying to get her involved with them. Trying to make her see they were all right for now. They weren’t and now she was going to have to ruin it all for him. Always the bad guy.

  His truck, the one he now claimed as his truck, was parked up ahead. The whole front of the old coffee shop was utterly destroyed. People stood inside as if it were still in working order. She saw a whole crowd of them standing there listening to Kent talk.

  He looked up and saw her then, as he spoke, and motioned for her to near.

  She expected him to smile a little as he did when she entered a room, but something was wrong. His face cast in all seriousness, he rubbed his forehead and looked in her direction again as she approached the group.

  “Everyone, this is my…girlfriend, Sloane. As you know, she was one of the captives for a brief time. She escaped and set many of the survivors free.”

  Several of those in the group began to clap.