Survival Series (Book 1): Survival

by Hawkley, D. E.

  There it was, on the side of his neck, the black bug like object; two flashing lights, one red, one green. It was an electronic of sorts, something attached to his neck. The voice had gone silent.

  Backing away from the door as he grinned at me, that grin that said I am going to get you, maybe not right now or today, but eventually. I raced up the stairs and slowed the memory in my mind, searching for - there, there they were.

  I opened my eye, the only one that could see since Reaver had taken my other one. In my memories, going over then I could hear what I couldn’t hear in the moment; the voice. I could see what I couldn’t see in the moment - the military officers. They had been beyond fence, near the next-door neighbor’s house. Though even in my memories I couldn’t tell what they were talking about, they were clearly following me.

  Perhaps they were surprised that someone was still alive or, more likely, someone was alive and unchanged. The chip on the side of Stenson’s neck was likely a control piece of some sort. If Stenson was here, did that mean the military officers were as well.

  Jumping to my feet I grabbed my gun and waited next to the window peering out every few seconds trying to see if there was anyone out there. The brief glances offered me a few seconds in each direction but not enough to paint a clear enough picture in my thoughts. I was a sitting duck; my paranoid brain finished the thought if I didn’t move now, I would be a dead duck.

  Moving quickly away from the window I scooped up my backpack and headed towards the door. BANG! BANG! BANG! Someone, or something, was hammering on the door. It sounded like a sledgehammer being swung at the door and soon enough the door began to crack. I needed to get out of this apartment. Running into the bedroom I unlocked the window and pulled it open.

  The fire escape, I realized, could collapse the moment I stepped out onto it, but I didn’t have much choice. The thunderous hammering at the door continued as I inspected the metal contraption.

  “Shit,” I said out loud to myself. The fire escape going down was destroyed. It was twisted and bent the ladder which would lead me down to the ground laid sprawled on the rubble that was once a sidewalk. I didn’t like the idea of going higher but at this point I had no choice. Climbing out onto the fire escape I stood for a moment letting my body adjust to the slight swaying of the platform under my weight.

  As I looked upward, I heard the door break under the weight of a final blow.

  Argh!

  The loud growl, which sounded much like the sound I had heard in the hospital before descending into the basement tore through the morning silence. Without waiting to see if it was a similar mutated, or the same one as it had escaped the hospital, I began to climb heading towards the roof.

  A single shot ricocheted off the fire escape below me. Risking a moment's glance, I could see two military officers across the street in the alleyway where Stenson had been less than fifteen minutes ago.

  Climb! Joanne’s voice screamed in my head.

  Hand over hand I moved upwards as quick as I could. Another bullet hit the fire escape just missing me as I slipped up over the edge of the roof.

  “You missed him,” I heard someone yell far below. “Christ kill that one,” the same voice said. The sound of gunfire echoed in the empty streets. I didn’t need to wonder who they shot at; the only mutated that was in the streets this morning was the old man who seemed stuck in a remembered morning routine loop.

  “There it is,” the military officer called out. “It’s stuck in the apartment. You should've kept your gun on that fire escape. That thing is never going to get up on the roof.”

  “Sure, it will,” the other officer said. “Watch.”

  As I laid winded on the rooftop, I heard the glass of the window id climbed out of shatter. Whatever mutated was in the apartment was going to be upon me soon enough. Rolling over I checked the clip of my gun; the clip had eleven bullets.

  I'd have to be quick and aim true; a misfire would be the end of me. Laying on my stomach I lined the barrel up with the fire escape ladder and waited.

  The sound of brick breaking, and the shuddering of the ladder told me the mutated must have been big and strong as it was busted through the brick wall. The ladder creaked and groaned as a heavy foot stepped out onto it and then my luck changed.

  Creaking under the strain of the full weight of the mutated the ladder ripped from its brackets on the roof. The scraping of metal on stone echoed with the anger roar of the mutated as it fell; tearing the fire escape off the side of the building it crashed hard into the ground.

  Getting to my feet I bolted. Running towards the back of the building I knew there was a lower level and without thinking twice I leapt from the roof. For a moment I felt as I was suspended in air, then the lower roof quickly came up to greet me. I rolled at the last moment, like I had learned in the self-defense class I took two years before the world ended.

  I had been working the night shift doing deposits of large sums of money; the company required all night employees be trained to defend themselves. I never thought two years later it would come in handy after the world came to an end as we knew it.

  Getting to my feet I started running again. I would need a lot of speedy to make the next jump. As I reached the edge I came to a skidding halt as I heard my name called from behind me.

  “Kyle,” the familiar voice croaked.

  I turned to see Stenson standing at the blown-out window a floor up. He seemed exhausted and lost. The grin was gone, the strange look in his eyes was gone.

  “Please,” Stenson said. “Help me.”

  Staring up at the window I wondered if this was a trap. My mind screamed at me again to not trust what I was seeing. I had learned that things were no longer what they seemed. Focusing my eyes, I looked for the small bug like chip I had noticed earlier. The one that had flashing lights on it - the lights were dark.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Kill me,” Stenson said leaning against the window.

  “I should for what you did to your family,” I said drawing my gun. “Do you even know what you did?”

  Stenson nodded. “I tried to get them to leave when I felt something was wrong, but my wife said they wouldn't leave me. She should have taken the kids and gone. When I changed,” Stenson said. “It was like a switch went off in my head. I could see but no control myself. I felt unspeakable anger and rage and a hunger for raw flesh.” Stenson seemed like he was going to vomit but it passed. “I - I -,” Stenson grabbed his head with both hands screaming.

  “Stenson?” I called up. “Stenson!”

  The pain looked to have passed and Stenson's hands dropped to his sides. When he looked back at me, I could see something was different. While the lights on the bug like chip were still dark Stenson was not himself anymore.

  Stenson's eyes were pools of black and the veins in his neck bulges. He screamed out; whether in pain, agony, or rage, I didn't know. The muscles in his arms flexed and he grabbed at the edge of the window.

  Run. My brain screamed. Run now. Taking a few steps back I spun and my heels and ran. Jumping down off the building onto a transport truck which laid crashed on its side, the cab buried under rubble inside the building it had crashed into.

  As I leapt down onto the ground, I noticed the military officers getting I into a vehicle behind the alleyway on the next street. One of them seen me as well and smirked, waving.

  “Good luck surviving him,” the officer called out before they drove off.

  Whatever Stenson had become had taken away whoever he had been. The mutated beast jumped down from the roof landing hard on the ground, roaring with rage. I ran as quickly as I could, heading towards the end of the alleyway. As I broke out into the streets, I found the body of the old man who I had been watching going about his daily routine; the military officer had shot him point blank - dead. If the man had gotten that close, clearly, he had not been a threat.

  Crossing the street, I broke through the door, whic
h hung half off its hinges, to a small convenience store. The store was a mess, between the bombs months of looting by whoever had survived, most of the shelves had been destroyed or picked clean. Quickly I searched through what was left of the store’s contents, I could hear the mutated in the streets.

  Peeking up over a collapsed shelf I watched as what had once been Stenson, now lost within the mutated, grabbed the front end of a burned-out car and flung it, flipping it on its roof. With strength as the mutated possessed, the military officer may be right - I may not survive this one.

  Behind the broken counter I found a bottle of butane lighter fluid, it was a start, but I needed some that would explode. Searching through my memories of life before the end, I quickly searched my well of knowledge; I needed either a gas station or a store that sold propane tanks. If I could find one the explosion may just be enough to kill the mutated that Stenson had become.

  Given my location in the city I knew the highway was less than thirty minutes away, if I ran, the only challenge would be to stay ahead of the mutated that was bent on killing me. The military, it was clear now, had something to do with what had happened to our city, or at least they had managed to survive, in clumps, and learn how to control those infected - a trick that Reaver and her crew had also learned how to do.

  While Stenson was sniffing about looking down the street, clearly, he didn't know where I'd gone, I moved to the front of the store. The backdoor was blocked by falling debris, going out and down the alleyway the military officers had been hiding in was my only option.

  Seeing my chance, I took it. Moving quickly and carefully out the shattered storefront window I ducked into the alleyway. So many questions flooded my brain as I took off running as fast as I could. One of the more prominent questions in my mind was - why me?

  Clearly, I had been targeted for one reason or another and it seems, so had Stenson. He had become a pet of the military, controlled to follow me around, for what purpose I had no idea. Had these men, these sworn to protect military officers released Stenson after I left him all those months ago in the rubble of his home; sent him in his way to hunt me like game?

  Unlike the streets near the hospital the streets surrounding the gas station had less vehicles. There were few houses as most of the area was industrial near the highway. As I neared the gas station, I found the propane cage was still locked, six full propane tanks laid inside.

  Slipping inside the small convenience store attached to the gas station I found two glass jars and emptied the contents. Searching through my backpack I found the spool of fishing line I found at Reavers safe house. I had a trap planned, if everything went as planned it would deal with Stenson once and for all.

  It took forty minutes to set up the trap in a way that Stenson would trigger it; assuming my calculations were correct. Now just to get his attention. I returned to the neighborhood I had escaped from Stenson to find him flipping cars in a fit of rage.

  “Stenson,” I called from a safe distance. “Come get me if you want me.” Stenson turned towards the sound of my voice and growled, letting out an unnerving roar. All the humanity that had been left in Stenson was gone now.

  Turning around I ran, Stenson chasing me.

  Stenson came at me just as I thought he would, and I waited. That look, the look in his eyes, would usually bring me quivering to my knees but I was confident that the trap I'd set would stop him before he reached me.

  I braced myself as he drew closer, moving faster and faster. When he leapt in the air, I knew I was right. Stenson snapped the thread thin fishing lines that were attached to the Molotov’s hanging on either side on the street.

  The Molotov’s came down just as Stenson hit the road. Exploding the Molotov’s ignited the gasoline that lead to the propane tanks set up in line with Stenson path. The timing couldn't have been more perfect, Stenson crossed the propane tanks just as the fire reached them.

  All six propane tanks exploded simultaneously, lifting the cars they were under off the ground causing them to collide together crushing Stenson in between them. The force of the explosion hit me hard sending me flying through the front window of the home behind me. When I landed, the wind knocked out of me, I found a man hanging by his neck dead.

  The man hung, swaying slowly, on the desk behind him laid a note under a piece of concrete. It was scribbled quickly, whether in fear of being killed or in haste, wanting to be done with this world. Moving around the lifeless body I made my way to the desk. Picking up the note I looked it over.

  ‘To whoever finds this. My name is Michael Morrison, if you've found this letter, I didn't make it. The plan I had in mind was to get out of this city and head south. My brother Richard is waiting for me, guess I will never see him again. If you can escape, you'll find him just off the highway beyond the skyway. I've left a map under this note. Richard knew somehow that this was coming he kept warning me, I didn't believe it. Guess I was wrong. Tell him I tried to get out, to make it to him. In my jacket there is a key, it belongs to the motorcycle in the garage. Take it and survive.’

  Picking up the map I unfolded it, there was a red x and a circle. I assumed that would be where I'd find the man's brother. Perhaps he or someone along the way would have answers and if not, I’d move on.

  Grabbing the chair that laid on its side under the man, presumably the one he was standing on to tie the noose, I climbed up and cut the man down. No one deserved to be left hanging. I wouldn't have the time for a proper burial but out of respect I moved the man's body inside and laid it in the bedroom.

  Heading out to the garage I found the motorcycle, just like the man's note said, and pressing the key into the ignition and turning it the bike came to life.

  The low rumble made me think of all the things I’d been through since leaving my bunker and risking my life to find a young woman who lost her life saving mine.

  Opening the garage door, I mounted the motorcycle and revved it twice before rolling out of the garage. I had no idea what the road beyond the city would hold but there was nothing left in the city for me. As I hit the highway I breathed in a deep breath, I didn't know what I'd have to deal with, but I knew one thing for certain - I had survived.

  SURVIVAL

  BOOK 2

  PREVIEW

  .ELEVEN.

  Walking a Fine Line

  The sun had almost set when I tied my boat up in the abandoned harbor. I didn't like having to cross the industrial district in the dark. While the mutated present their own set of issues, the survivors and military officers provided another set of problems.

  It was a lose-lose, but kind of win, situation. I couldn't be out on the waters at night, but I had to make sure I wasn't seen entering and leaving the docks either. It was like walking a fine line, I was a trapeze artist high above the ground with no ropes or net.

  Twice the military had almost caught me, they hated the survivors that could survive on their own without any aid. They didn't like those they couldn't control; but the mutated, oh they could control them. I had seen them take a wild raging mutated and turn them into an obedient brainless slave and vice versa. Although, I believe they are losing control because the mutated are changing.

  Quickly and carefully I made my way off the docks; backpack slung over my back and my finger on the trigger of my gun. If need be, if I could get close enough, I preferred using my knife to avoid making too much noise, but as the old saying went beggars could not be choosers.

  More than once I had come face to face with military patrols looking for survivors to, what they referred to as rescue; in reality, they were looking for people to test out their new mutated in or just to execute for fun.

  Four of the members of my crew had suffered such fates. In one circumstance, I had to watch two friends executed, another one killed by a mutated, and my wife - they changed her into one of their mutated pets and let her beg me to kill her before they unleashed the virus in her system. Michelle had come close to killing me, I had been ready to l
et her, but others depended on me and I had to accept the facts; she was gone and the mutated in her place had to be stopped.

  Reaching the side street when I had parked my van, I loaded todays supplies into the back and climbed in locking the door behind me. I sat in the back of the van for a moment eating my daily rations of food and washing it down with a bottle of filtered water.

  Crossing the water into the metropolis was dangerous but it was the best place to scavenge for supplies and I still had yet to find Mathew. The last time I saw Mathew was at the hospital during our scavenge in the summer, months ago, we raided an ambulance before being split by a raiding party led by a woman leading a group of humans and mutated.

  The plan was to circle back around to the docks if we got separated; it was the furthest we had gone into the city, I made it to the docks, but Mathew never showed up. I sat huddled in the bottle of my boat for seventy-two hours waiting until I couldn't wait anymore. The military was starting to check the docks forcing me to leave.

  Matthew is resourceful, I kept telling myself that so I could sleep at night, but as the weeks drew on into months and ever visit to the metropolis yielded no sign of him, I grew less sure of myself. He was almost ten years younger than me and I had vowed to my parents to keep him safe from harm; turns out I didn't do as good a job as they had hoped.

  As the night darkened, I climbed into the front seat of the beaten-up old van. We had done a number on the body to make it look left and abandoned, but the engine and other parts were newer. Turning over the key I listened as the van clicked to start and nothing. No power flowed through the engine, something was wrong.

  “Put your hands on the wheel Richard,” someone called from beyond my line of sight. “If you don't comply, we will send you off with a nightcap - single bullet to the temple. If you do, you will be set free after Captain Mercer speaks with you.”

  “Bullshit,” I yelled put placing my hands on the wheel. “We both know no one gets set free from Captain Mercer; you die or are infected to keep you under control. If those are my options just put the bullet in my temple and be on your way.”