Decay (Book 2): Humanity (5 page)

“Did you enjoy your kip?” she asked.

“If you mean sleep, no, I couldn’t.”

She nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry. I know you feel like I’m a terrible person. You must think that maybe I’m off my nut for wanting to go after these people. They have to be taken care of, Jonathan. I don’t mean to bring you and your friends into this, but I think its fate that brought us together.”

Laikynn placed her hand on Jonathan’s cheek. The soft skin of her fingers was warm. “I need you to help us. I want you to stay–when we’re done.”

He hated being a teenager. His hormones waged war with his mind. He thought he could love once before, and then he watched as that love was torn from his life. Laikynn was stunning, not only in her physical beauty, but her confidence. This drove Jonathan crazy.

“I really do not know what to do, Laikynn. I need to go find my family.”

“You are a man well beyond your years, Jonathan,” Laikynn said as she stood.

Jonathan watched her while his mind raced back and forth trying to figure out what to do, but he didn’t have to make that decision. Instead of walking away, Laikynn straddled his lap. His cock stiffened instantly as her lips locked against his and he knew his hormones were victorious.

“I told Hugo we may start a little later than planned,” she panted as she ripped her coat off and began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Yeah,” was all Jonathan could say as the two fell back onto the bed.

Chapter 8
 

“Now that we’re all here,” Hugo looked at Laikynn with a slight impatience. “The plan really is simple. We will drive you out to your posts. There you will wait for anyone that isn’t us. You shoot on sight. No survivors. I’ll lead a team into the camp. This team will take out everyone, so chances are you won’t even need to fire a shot.” Hugo’s gaze rested on a shaky young man standing at the front of the group. “Let’s hope you don’t need to, anyway.”

Jonathan looked around. There were close to fifty people, all armed, eagerly awaiting their assignment. Some of them looked prepared, mentally, while others looked terrified by what they were about to do. His only hope was that none of them did anything stupid. He had no intentions of dying before he found his brother. He paused to eye the trembling young man who could not have been any older than he was.

Despite how stable anyone appeared, Jonathan could only guess that everyone was scared. After going over the plan once more to be sure they all understood how simple it was for everyone other than Hugo and his group, they were loaded into Jeeps. Before Jonathan climbed into the Jeep assigned to him, Laikynn pulled him to the side and wrapped her arms around him. Her body felt warm, even through the thick layers of clothes. She kissed his cheek and looked at him as if she had something important to tell him. Deep down Jonathan wished she had said it, but instead she smiled softly and walked back toward the large tin building.

Guillermo smiled knowingly at Jonathan as he climbed into the Jeep next to him. They were grouped with a few other people from Moorford. Elliot, carrying the Steyr .50 caliber rifle that Jonathan had given him in his lap, was assigned to Hugo’s group, and Tyler was sent with yet another group. Layla, wrapped in a blanket, stood next to the hotel and waved as the Jeeps rolled by. Her tears glistened on her cheeks, the breeze gently ruffling her blonde hair.

“You know, for someone supposed to be a little scared, you sure do have a big smile on your face,” Guillermo said, giving Jonathan a wink.

“Oh god, are you serious?” Jonathan felt awful, how crazy he must look heading into a massacre with a shit-eating grin.

“We’re going to drop you off about a mile out from their camp,” the man in the passenger seat said. “From there you will move to the locations marked on your map and wait. Anyone who tries to get by you gets shot. I’m sure you have all been told, but just in case you haven’t, when you hear this signal,” he whistled the same high-pitched turkey gobble that Reese had whistled earlier, “You can make your way back to the rendezvous for pick up.” He turned to look at the passengers, “Its cold and the snow’s deep in some places so move carefully. Any questions?”

No questions were asked. The passengers sat quietly, probably too scared to ask or trying so hard to block out their own fear they didn’t realize they were being talked to, anyway. Jonathan just tried to keep the smile off his face.

The rest of the drive was bumpy yet uneventful. They avoided roads, driving the Jeeps through the snowy forest-covered mountains. It was much darker deep in the trees where the moonlight couldn’t penetrate, but the drivers were able to find their way easily despite the lack of light. As they approached the drop-off point, the trucks split up as the groups headed toward their own areas.

As the four-by-four came to a stop, the passenger turned around again. “Their camp is a mile that way.” He pointed out of the passenger-side of the truck. “You need to walk three-quarters of that and wait for the signal. Remember, kill everyone that tries to come through. No exceptions! Check your weapons! Good luck.”

With that said, the group opened the doors and climbed out. They had walked about fifty yards before the truck moved on through the snow. Jonathan assumed that the driver and passenger had their own part to play in this other than wait for the sentinels to return. He also had the feeling like they had just been left out here to die, or that the guys in the trucks are taking cover until this is over.

“You know,” Jonathan started, talking quietly. “If we survive this–this deal we are in now, the rest of the trip to Iowa–and it turns out that I cannot stop this. I may have to make a home here. I mean, I am already sick of being cold. I hate the snow, my feet and fingers are frozen, but there are so few fiends here,” he said this as Guillermo swung Kadavre and sliced into the head of a dead woman that had shambled toward them.

“Yeah, it’s not like Clay Hills. I miss my home, but when you can’t walk down the street without being eaten. . .then it really isn’t home. I think I can trade that for this any day.” Guillermo responded as they fought through the snow. “Nope, never mind, just got snow in my boots. I want to go back to California.”

“That’s kinda cool that you call them fiends,” came a shaky young voice from behind them. “My name’s Chris.” The young man held out his gloved hand, which they shook respectfully. Jonathan recognized him instantly as the trembling teen. “We call them ghouls here. There’s a reason we don’t see that many of them out here, aside from the cold that is. There are thousands of them locked away in cages up in the mountains.

“I don’t know if I should tell you guys that or not, but I figure if they have you out here with us then you deserve to know.” Off in the distance the chopping sound of the helicopter blades filled the air. “Here some of them come now, and just in time it looks like. We’re here.” He pointed through the trees at the lights coming from the camp. The light from the campfires burned bright, radiating off of the white snow.

The roar of the helicopters thundered overhead as the two behemoths soared across the treetops. Jonathan could only catch a glimpse as they moved by, but the wind generated by the blades dusted them with loose snow. Both of the helicopters were carrying the large cages he had seen in the tin building. He felt his stomach drop as he realized what was going on, and he knew he no longer wanted to be a part of it.

“This is exciting isn’t it?” Chris asked, but the excitement in his voice was a lie. He was far more scared than he wanted his new companions to know, yet he couldn’t hide the fear as the color drained from his face and he turned away and vomited.

Laikynn found herself thinking about Jonathan as the helicopter she was in buzzed through the sky. She wondered at what point would they pass over him, but she quickly pushed the thoughts of him aside. She knew she had sent him on a mission he shouldn’t be on, especially if she wants him to come back to her. It was too late now, and like always, she would stick to the plan, adapting it as needed.

The powerful aircrafts carried cages filled with undead bodies looking to abolish any sign of life they could find. Each cage’s floor was designed to drop out, spilling its wicked contents to the cold ground. The camp approach quickly, and as they came into the clearing, Laikynn looked down at all of the tents and half-built cabins. A few people started to stumble out into the early morning, unsure of what was about to happen.

As the pilot lowered the helicopter, Laikynn pressed the button that was mounted on the dash in front of her. Hydraulic arms retracted, sliding the bolts that held the floor of the cages in place. As the men, woman, and children of the camp looked on in terror, the dead bodies rained from the sky. Without any understanding of what they just went through, the dead bodies picked themselves up, some with freshly broken bones, and began their gruesome assault.

“They have weaponized the fiends!” Jonathan stated. He found himself unsure of whether to be horrified or impressed. After all, it was only a matter of time before someone created weapons out of these killing machines. “Nothing we can do now but our jobs,” he said a little unsure of himself as the three of them spread out in the forest and listened to the screams reverberate through the mountains. A few gunshots rang out, but the little warning the camp had left them vulnerable.

The undead horde tore through the people of the cannibal camp in minutes. Even though the thunderous sounds of the helicopters had woken most of the residents, none of them were prepared for the onslaught that would follow. Still half-asleep, their deaths were painful. The lucky ones died quick. The children never had a chance, as many of the adults threw them behind to slow down the oncoming horror.

For several minutes after the screams ceased, Jonathan listened as the quiet pops of rifle fire burst from the men who had been sent to form a perimeter around the camp. He found himself praying that no survivors came his way. Straining to hear, he listened for any sound of footsteps. Guillermo was just out of sight through the trees, but he knew his friend was feeling the same way.

Two shots came from Guillermo’s direction and Jonathan felt sick. He had hoped his friend didn’t have to use his rifle, but most importantly he hoped no body used theirs on Guillermo. Then Chris’ voice burst through the trees. “I got one!” he cheered.

Jonathan exhaled deeply, glad it wasn’t Guillermo, and then the crunch of snow disrupted what little sense of calm he had. Raising his rifle, Jonathan prepared to fire, but hoped he wouldn’t have to. A relieved smile crossed his lips as the fiend came into view. It was a horrible sight, but he felt better about not having to kill a living person who was only trying to survive. The woman was covered in fresh blood, and it wasn’t until she stepped closer that Jonathan could tell it was her own. The gash in her neck still spurted blood with every other step she took.

Her jaw was smashed and the skin around her left eye was torn off from her cheek to her hairline. With her right hand she gripped tightly a small arm. The little pink bracelet and painted fingernails were spattered with blood. The flesh at the end was stretched and the bone was splintered where it had been busted. Jonathan knew this mother held onto her daughter with every last breath she had.

Lining up the iron sights of the rifle with the woman’s head, Jonathan gently squeezed the trigger. The small twenty-two caliber round pierced her skull with little mess. He knew keeping the Springfields holstered was a good decision. She twisted slightly before dropping down into the snow. Not even after dying for the second time did this mother release the grip she had on her child’s hand.

“Please don’t shoot, young man,” the gentle voice came from the trees.

“Who said that?” Jonathan asked, raising his rifle again. His eyes scanned the snowy trees for any signs of life. Each heartbeat pounded like a bass drum.

“Please. I’ve been bitten, but my son needs someone. I don’t want him to die.” The woman stepped out from behind the trees. Blood covered most of her face and dripped from the fingers on her left hand. In her right hand she held a bundle of blankets that Jonathan knew was her baby. Tears streaked through the blood on her face.

Unsure of what to do, Jonathan lowered his rifle slightly and took his finger off of the trigger. “I cannot take your child. I have orders to kill anyone that tries to come through. Please, I don’t want to shoot you. You need to go back and hide until everyone leaves.”

“You don’t understand. I’ll turn into one of them.” She nodded toward the fiend lying in the snow. “Then I’ll kill my baby boy.” She began to sob. “Please take my boy.” As she walked closer to Jonathan she held up the bundle of blankets.

Jonathan didn’t want a child to die, and he knew that Laikynn and the others certainly wouldn’t judge a baby. He could still be raised right. “I will take your child back, but I don’t want to kill you. If you hand me your child, you can walk in a straight line to my right. If you don’t die in the snow first, you will come across someone more willing to shoot you.” He didn’t want her to go left toward Guillermo.

“Thank you. Thank you,” the woman said. She crept closer to Jonathan and handed him the baby.

He took the bundle from the woman and lifted the blanket to see the baby. Looking down at the bloody, smashed face of the baby took his breath away. His skull was busted open and bites of his brain were smashed into the blanket. Jonathan looked up at the woman, but before he could open his mouth she grabbed his rifle, knocking the dead baby out of his arms.

“Now you die for what you did to my boy!” the woman screamed as she aimed the rifle.

The bullet ripped through the air and tore through the soft flesh, shattering the skull, and entering the brain. The bullet didn’t have enough force to exit the skull, but it ricochet enough to destroy wreak havoc. Jonathan tried to scream, but he wasn’t sure if any sound came out. The world moved in slow motion.

Jonathan could see the speeding bullet enter the woman’s head. Her hair parted as if that one spot had been touched by the wind. Both of her eyes bulged from the pressure it caused. The substance that oozed from the entry wound was red with small chunks of gray. Even watching her die right before his eyes Jonathan still hadn’t processed which one of them was killed. She fell into a heap next to the bundle of bloody blankets that her son had been wrapped in.

As Jonathan began to recover from the shock of what had happened, he turned to see Guillermo walking toward him. “What the hell is wrong with people?” Jonathan asked. “That woman used her child–her dead child–to get close to me.”

“This whole world is screwed up now. People are surrounded by death and it is making them go crazy. People are capable of some pretty gruesome things,” Guillermo responded. He looked down at the dead woman and her child, and then he looked at the fiend. “Like Laikynn said, humanity is decaying . . . right before our eyes.”