by West, Mark
EVOLVING
A Jackson Kidd NOVEL
BOOK TWO
MARK WEST
Copyright © 2021 Mark West
EVOLVING
ISBN: 978-0-6487972-2-7– (Paperback)
ISBN: 978-0-6487972-3-4 – (Ebook)
Editing: Editing Plus
Copy Editor: Kate Boccaccio
Typeset: Seymour Design
Cover design: Deranged Doctor Design
Except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters in the book are products of the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Find out more about the author and his latest books: www.markwestauthor.com
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Created with Vellum
For Bec – My first fan.
You gave me the nudge I needed to become a writer.
Contents
Prologue
1. You know who I am
2. William
3. The Queenslander
4. Sink or swim
5. The escape
6. Return of the dead
7. Soaked clothes
8. Apartment struggles
9. Home
10. Peekaboo!
11. The return of no one
12. The watch
13. The return visit
14. Hope
15. Captive
16. Hostiles
17. The calm before the storm
18. Thunder and lightning
19. Who is that knocking?
20. Why?
21. Go away!
22. Circling the drain
23. White tents
24. The Terminator
25. Searching
26. It’s my turn
27. Exhaustion
28. Shadows in an elegant place
29. The note
30. A tight squeeze
31. Knives
32. One step at a time
33. Angry children
34. Jeep
35. Pink caterpillar
36. An address
37. Temptation
38. A walking ghost
39. Navy Seals
40. Another lie
41. Highway troubles
42. Hide
43. You got this
44. The Leader
45. Determination
46. Surprise
47. One on one
48. Caged
49. Brave William
50. A crying shame
51. The Woman
52. Through the pack
53. The desperate search
54. A dark walk
55. Don’t make a sound
56. Nail
57. A rocky escape
58. Hold tight
59. Tootsie the cat
60. Trees to freedom
61. Unexpected intentions
62. The Olson family
63. The complex
64. The Mutation
65. The stadium
66. The choice
67. The Kid
68. A fight to the death
69. The girl
70. The confrontation
71. The Vision
Epilogue
Want more?
Acknowledgments
Prologue
It’s like something out of a nightmare – something Roman Atwell has never seen before.
Tucked behind an overturned car, no more than twenty metres away, Roman watches in pure terror at the event unfolding before his eyes. The sun is setting and he now wishes he had never stopped. He should have kept moving. He should have ignored his curiosity, his persistent desire for information.
A woman stands in the middle of the road, grey faced and emotionless as she points towards a pack of Infected, a small child by her side. One arm hangs limply, a bone jutting through the ravaged skin. The horde stares back as one. Their blank, featureless faces stained with blood, skin so badly shredded they look like damaged masks.
This can't be real.
The woman moans, the words incoherent, her dark hair flicking around her face in the wind as the sounds emanate from her mouth. The horde grunts in response, a pack responding to its master. It sends chills up Roman’s spine.
‘What the fuck?’
An Infected steps forward from the horde. It is covered in tattoos: its body thick with muscle, its head bald with scars. It is holding something in its hand, but the object is partially obscured and Roman can’t make out what it is. He leans further out, shielding himself from the view of the other Infected. Curiosity is a bitch and it has him by the jugular.
The woman grunts and snatches the object, drawing it into view. It’s a hat: tan and covered in grime. She sniffs at it like an animal.
The hairs on Roman’s neck stand tall. The woman, with her grimy black hair, reminds him of a horror movie. But which one? She looks as if she’s from them all.
The tattooed Infected blends back into the horde. The woman examines the material with sunken eyes. She grunts again and drops the hat on the ground. It lands at the feet of a small child, who picks it up and sniffs at the woven fabric before placing it on her head. It stays on for a moment then topples off.
Roman watches in amazement as the woman continues to grunt and moan to the horde. They respond in the same incoherent language: grunting and gagging as if they are trying to clear something off their chest.
This is insane.
A dog barks and Roman spots a dark shadow darting between a pair of legs and disappearing into the horde. He shakes his head. Most animals avoid the freaks at all costs – something he should be doing right now.
The grunting stops. Some of the Infected turn and start to leave. They break off into small groups, most heading north and passing Roman. He slinks back into the shadow of the vehicle that’s giving him cover, pulls a map from his jacket and checks his destination.
He is in the middle of a highway, just south of Sydney, no more than five kilometres from the nearest town. He knows if he is to make it back home by sundown he will need to leave now. He stuffs the map away and takes one last glance at the woman. The small child is missing. He scans the horde, unable to locate her among the pack of moving bodies.
Stupid freaks.
Roman is about to creep down the embankment and get the hell away when he hears a scuffling sound behind him. He whips around and spots the child standing only metres away.
‘Easy there girl,’ he whispers, holding up a hand.
The girl gazes up at him innocently, taking in his presence. She is taller than he thought, her hair tangled like twisted vines. But she smells like rotting vegetation.
Roman slips his hand cautiously behind his back, unwilling to make any sudden movement. He keeps his other hand held up in front. He knows she could attack at any moment; he needs to be ready. His fingers brush the tip of his Ka-Bar handle as he examines his surroundings. They are alone. He slowly retrieves the knife from his belt.
Stab and run, Roman. Stab and run.
The girl takes a sudden step forward, causing Roman to flinch and rapidly draw his knife. It shakes in his hand.
‘It’s okay little girl,’ he coos. But who is he kidding? The thing knows exactly what he is about to do.
Roman glances down at her pink shoes and then up into her eyes. The irises are light blue, but the whites yel
low, networked in a deep, dark red from the insane virus.
It had been hell the past year, and he is lucky to have survived this long – always scavenging, always running. They are everywhere; there is no escape.
Roman cautiously crouches, knife still pointing forward as he prepares himself for a spring attack. The child continues to stare in a freakishly creepy way, head cocked to the side.
He smiles, showing off his false teeth. ‘Tell Mumma I say hello.’
He lunges, but gets no more than a metre in the air before something slams into his back, causing his body to twist into an awkward position with a loud crack. He feels his legs go numb as he lands face-first in a patch of dirt, the knife falling from his grip. The pain is excruciating, making him scream out loud. He’s aware of footsteps by his side. Crippled, he uses an arm to roll himself onto his back. He blinks away the tears, the pain making his vision swim in and out.
Two shadows are standing above him, blocking the dying sun. It takes a moment before his eyes adjust and he can take in their appearance. ‘Mumma’ is peering down at him, the girl beside her.
‘Shit.’
Chapter 1
You know who I am
I circle its chair, watching its neck jerk around each time I step out of its view. Its feet slam against the concrete floor in agitation.
‘The name’s Jackson. But you know who I am, don’t you?’ I say bitterly. ‘And my friends – Amy, Lincoln, Tyler, Rohan and all the others your type murdered.’
I pull a water bottle from my rucksack and take a sip. My anger has dried my throat. Or perhaps it’s the stench in the room making it dry. I’ll never get used to that smell.
I circle back.
‘You stalked us to our safe haven far into the hills, our sanctuary – the Block. We wanted to be left alone, away from the carnage, but you brought the war to us, so you brought today on yourself.’
I peer over at the man sitting in the chair – his expression blank.
‘But slaughtering my friends wasn’t enough, was it? Your type tracked my wife and I as we fled north, forcing us from building to building, making me do shit I’m not proud of.’
I rub the scar on my arm. It stretches about ten centimetres down my forearm from my elbow. I sliced it on some metal, months back. It still hurts whenever I twist or move awkwardly.
‘Queensland’s a long way for a woman and child to travel.’ I can see the surprise in its eyes. ‘Oh, didn’t you know?’
When I’m facing him again, I stop and point through the window at the sun setting in the distance.
‘It’s getting late.’
I pull an old watch on a chain from my pocket. It’s one of those big, circular watches with a cover that flips open. I found it in a drawer along with a handgun. The gun is with Amy’s body back at the Block. She sacrificed her life to save ours. I think about what she did every day.
‘Five-fifteen,’ I mumble. ‘Victoria will be wondering where I am.’ I place the watch back in my pocket. ‘One more question, then I’m finished.’
The man groans between gritted, yellow teeth. He looks like he hasn’t eaten in days. I step forward so I’m just centimetres from his face.
‘Why are you tracking me?’
His lip twitches in response. I know they aren’t as stupid as they seem. I know it understands me – every single word.
‘Let me rephrase. Why is she following me?’
I pause, hoping for a response, but I get nothing so continue.
‘She, the one who appeared in Canberra. She, the one who brought the army of Infected to my home and slaughtered my friends. She, the one who is followed by that evil child with pink shoes.’
The Infected snarls, and I’m forced to take a step back in case it tries to bite my damn nose off.
‘I take that as non-compliance?’
I wish I could understand it.
I glance down at the ropes binding its hands and feet. They have cut deep into its flesh in the hour it’s been tied up, digging deeper the more it squirms. I trapped it using an old plank and some climbing rope. It was pretty basic, but it did the job.
‘Hmmm…’
I run a hand through my hair. I’ve let it grow since this whole ordeal started, it’s now almost on my shoulders. Time to try a different approach.
‘Is it because I’m infected?’ I ask. Its eyes narrow. ‘Is that a yes?’
It was after we escaped from the Block I confirmed the suspicions I’d had for months. A few days after I got the wound on my arm – the scar I now see daily – we entered a house after dark, both tired from travelling all day, when I felt a strange tingling across my skin, like termites nibbling at my flesh, alerting me to danger – something that took me a long time to realise. We still entered the house, but I braced for an attack.
Moments later, Infected spilled into the room. I killed two before Victoria and I ran. From that day, whenever I feel that strange sensation, I know they are around.
‘Do you get it too?’ I ask. ‘That sensation when a few Infected are gathered.’
I wait for a response, but it just stares impassively.
‘I get it. Not always if it’s just one or two, but definitely if there is a larger group lurking about.’
It continues to stare at me – listening.
‘It’s strange, though. If I’m infected, why didn’t I change into one of you freaks? And how? I don’t remember getting bitten.’
I look down at the scar on my arm, remembering how I had tripped and fallen, slicing it on a sheet of metal when entering an abandoned warehouse. Red blood with swirls of black had spilled from the wound – the sign that one is infected.
I honestly thought it was the metal filings rusting in my blood, until the house incident days later. I don’t think Victoria noticed anything. Well, I don’t think she did, because she helped me bandage it up as if nothing had happened. It’s still my little secret – my burden and no one else’s.
I shrug, rubbing the scar on my arm.
‘Lucky, I guess … Or unlucky.’
Since learning this, my tolerance is short, my anger always simmering. I’m a second from exploding. I can’t help it; it’s who I am now and it’s something I need to deal with.
I remove a hunting knife from the back of my pants. It’s about thirty centimetres long with a serrated blade. I poke the Infected in the chest.
‘What’s your thoughts? Will I eventually change into a freak?’
The man thrashes about in the chair, snarling and snapping like a hungry animal. I chuckle in amusement. His patience has worn thin – same with mine.
‘What I think is ...’
I twist the blade in my hand and then run the knife along the edge of the chair, effortlessly peeling back a thin layer of timber into a spiral.
‘I think she knows I’m infected, and that’s why she is after me. I think she wants me gone.’
The Infected continues to thrash around, loosening the ropes as the chair creaks under his weight. He isn’t a large guy, but the infection has made him strong.
‘All I know is I need to figure this out before one of you gets the jump on me.’ I grin. ‘Like you tried to.’
I turn my back on him and sense his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head.
‘I won’t let her win,’ I say darkly. ‘I will figure this out.’
I spin quickly on my heels, jamming the knife directly into the side of its head. Fluids spill from its skull and run down its face. I watch the life drain from its eyes.
‘I’ll make it my mission to get my revenge,’ I whisper in its ear.
Chapter 2
William
‘It was the government, Gez.’
The guy has a smug look on his grimy face, as if he’s just said something profound. William doubts he knows anything, but it doesn’t make him any less scary. William doesn’t like the look of him or his mate.
Gez raises his brow incredulously. ‘How do you know, Robbie?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, like I said, they were experimenting with alternative weapons.’ Robbie scratches at his matted beard. ‘Too bad it backfired.’
Gez scoffs and peers around the room, trying to catch the nervous eyes of the other three – two girls and a boy. ‘Can you believe this rubbish, kids?’ He locks eyes on a boy sitting alone in the corner. ‘What’s your thoughts on it, boy?’
William's heart thumps anxiously as he runs a hand through his hair, his fingers catching in the tangled curls so that it pulls at his scalp. He’s regretting coming into the barn now. He ran in after being ambushed by Infected, dozens of them, and was surprised to find others had also sought refuge in there.
‘I, um …’ Something catches in his throat. It’s been months since he’s spoken to anyone, let alone these creeps.
