Season Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 2) (6 page)

The speaker wore a familiar uniform, similar to the look and style of the soldiers who’d remained in Canaan after the formation of the tribe and the expulsion of their commission. Patches and insignias Jonah didn’t rightly understand highlighted the black fatigues. There were a number of others, more than he cared to count. Each of them carried a gun, some holstered on their hips, and others with rifles slung over their shoulders. Jonah pulled himself from the view and quickly relayed the scene.

“We have to tell Mia,” Bree whispered. She slid in close to Jonah and slipped her arm under his. “This is big. I bet I know who those people are.”

The panic in her eyes was contagious. Jonah watched it spread across the faces of the others. He tried to keep calm. He agreed with her, but the moment he nodded, a new sound arose from somewhere within the chamber. The noise slithered through the darkness, nipping at the kids’ ears. A horrible familiarity told Jonah what it was before he pulled away from Bree and looked back out at the space.

There was shifting movement beyond the initial group of workers. The apparent leader among them was focused on something against the back wall. The sound came again, and this time, the moans of the undead were distinctive. Jonah moved without thinking, rushing across the exterior walkway and coming to a stop at the edge of the first cell. He heard a disapproving grunt from Bree followed by the soft footsteps of someone coming up behind him.

“You’re going to get us killed,” Tate said, sliding down next to him. His floppy brown curls hung down over his eyes until he swiped them out of the way. “What are you looking for?”

Jonah peeked back at the entrance. Bree and Bale stared at them, neither looking particularly pleased with his and Tate’s decision. Jonah motioned for them to stay where they were. Bree mouthed something to him, but he couldn’t make it out.

“I want to see exactly what they’re doing,” he said to Tate. “That’s what Rowan would want to know,” he assured him.

They were up and moving again, this time working their way along the side of the cells toward the open central row. Jonah stopped before the opening and discovered a wide staircase leading down into a long walkway spanning the length of the chamber. The backside of the cells towered over the central row on either side. Equipment lined the sides of the walkway, most of it beyond Jonah’s knowledge. A majority of the commotion centered on the area closest to the wall on the far end.

Several soldiers were hard at work, most gathered around a single device, lifting it from its position. Jonah’s intrigue was cleanly severed once he realized the wall at the far end wasn’t solid at all. A wide door was bashed in from the outside and the resulting breakthrough gave way to an opening of an underground tunnel.

“They dug their way in.”

Jonah considered Tate’s deduction then shook his head.

“That’s a big tunnel,” he whispered. “They couldn’t have done that in such a short time. That’s been there for a while.” Jonah didn’t know why he was so sure, but something told him that he was dead on. “Look there.”

Jonah’s hand shot out toward several lumbering figures shifting in the darkness beyond the tunnel entrance. The sound of their moans increased in his mind the moment he saw them. The lights surrounding the soldiers shifted as they worked, and the displacement provided a haunting glimpse of the walking dead lurking in the background. The entire group of soldiers lifted the hefty piece of equipment through the opening and into the tunnel, disappearing from sight. The leader stepped to the side of the battered door and held a lantern up above his head.

Frantic movement within the dark tunnel forced Jonah to start down the stairs. He and Tate reached the first piece of equipment and ducked down beside it. Jonah slid his face out and found the view clearer but the scene more frightening. The dead lined up against one side of the tunnel, each of them bound together by ropes connecting one wrist to the next.

“Let’s get moving.”

The sudden shout pierced the silence of the chamber with the effect of a gunshot. Jonah and Tate shook at the sound of the leader’s call but neither of them knew whom he was talking to. The reply was much more terrifying.

“We’re coming.”

It was impossible to pinpoint where the response came from, but it was obvious that it was somewhere along the walkway surrounding the chamber. Jonah’s eyes ran up the stairs now behind them and then along the cells between him and Tate and the entrance. He knew they were stuck. He slid his face up even with the floor of the cells and the bars on the backside of the cages altered his view. He found the soft glow of Bree’s personnel light near the chamber entrance.

“Let the dead go,” the leader said, “We’ll come back for the nexus when the damage is done.”

Jonah didn’t have time to consider what any of the declaration meant. He glanced at the tunnel opening long enough to see the first of the undead pushing out into the light. Their moans grew with intensity as if they somehow understood that they would soon be free to hunt for flesh. Jonah focused on Bree’s worried face as the sound of footsteps neared from somewhere on the walkway.

He motioned for her to go and Bree refused. Jonah locked eyes with her and he nodded slowly, mouthing for them to get help. She silently pleaded with him until Bale took her by the hand. She waved one final time before they slipped from view and disappeared into the hall.

6

Mia was lost somewhere between wrestling with her thoughts and desperately attempting to get a few hours of sleep. Sleep had become one of her toughest foes. Sometime over the past few months, she’d lost the ability to simply lie down, close her eyes, and drift off. Her current predicament was no different from countless nights before.

She’d confided in Sara, and the elder council member found humor in the dilemma. Her words of wisdom danced through Mia’s mind from time to time.
Responsibility for others is a terrible burden, but one you will learn to appreciate in time.
The assurance had yet to comfort Mia. She doubted she truly understood the insight hidden within the words.

Mia’s eyes popped open. She gave up on sleep for the moment and decided a walk might do her some good. She slipped her heavy coat over her shoulders and picked up her sword from under her cot. The heavy breathing of most of the others within the bay filled the air with a song of sorts as they blended in an echoing chant. She tied her sword off at her hip and slipped out into the hall.

The sheath tapped lightly against her thigh with every step and it brought an awkward grin to her face. The katana sword had once been her father’s prized possession. He’d given it to her as he lay dying, forcing her to promise to lead the remains of the Cheyenne tribe to safety. She pondered from time to time if she’d truly accomplished that task.

A nip in the air forced her to pull the edges of her coat tight around her slender frame. The wind swept in from the open doorway at the far end of the hall: a constant reminder that they were in danger. A horde of the dead was heading toward them. Their numbers would most likely swell beyond comprehension as they passed through Cheyenne. The cadre of infected leading the horde was something no one had ever seen. They’d evolved to a point that made it difficult to distinguish their minds from the living.

Mia crossed through the opening and headed for the stairs leading topside. A moment later and she was looking out over the wide plains surrounding Canaan. She was surprised by the view. Snow had started falling sometime in the night and it never let up. The thick pack was at least a foot deep and growing. The firelights of the distant lookout posts highlighted the otherwise perfect view.

Mia’s mind slipped back to the issues causing her sleepless night before a faint voice rose up to meet her. She spun around, her eyes moving to each of the isolated fires, before realizing the call had come from down in the entrance to the hive. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword. She’d nearly convinced herself that she was hearing things when the voice came again, this time the words clear.

“There’s been a breach.”

Mia was running before she processed what she’d heard. She was in the hall a moment later and she locked onto the figure rushing down center aisle. The soldier was out of breath by the time Mia reached him. Lights sprang to life from the doorways lining the hall.

“Where?” Mia asked. “Where’s the breach?”

“Hive four,” the soldier responded between deep panting breaths. “The dead are pressing in from the new walkway.”

Mia was moving before the last of his description left his mouth. She already knew where it was and the distance to reach it would take all the strength remaining in her legs. She heard Rowan then Asher’s voice call out behind her, but she didn’t stop for either. Mia reached the hive’s entrance before the traffic picked up. Several people were already moving in the same direction. Some of the soldiers carried guns; others appeared to have grabbed whatever they could get their hands on. A sudden sound of gunfire told her she had nearly reached her destination.

Mia burst around a final turn and came face to face with an intense confrontation. Bodies littered the walkway ahead. The dead had pushed beyond the entrance to the stairwell at the end of the hall and were now closing in on the living quarters. Mia drew her sword and pressed forward. A number of soldiers positioned themselves at the turn and slipped back behind cover, taking shots as the zombies neared. Mia realized the tactic was a losing battle and they would have to push them back into the stairwell if they hoped to save the living quarters.

“Move up,” she said as she stepped out into the center of the hall and saw the true measure of the enemy. “We have to clear the hall.”

The dead lined the walkway from one side to the other. Their numbers were staggering. The stench of their decaying bodies engulfed the hall in a wave of death. Rotted organs dangled from open wounds as peeling skin revealed half-eaten chunks of muscle.

The full sight of the morbid flock suspended Mia’s mind for an instant. The fear consumed her all at once and she had to force herself to continue. Gunfire pulled her back to the challenge and she stepped forward with her sword held high. Mia cut into the first row and her courage inspired those behind her to press forward. Blood splattered across her face as bullets tore through skulls.

She moved with deadly grace, her instincts reverting to the skills her father passed down. The edge of her blade sliced effortlessly through rotting limbs. The fight raged all around her, now most of the responding men and women of the compound forced into hand-to-hand combat. Mia was aware of Rowan; he was close to her, matching her every step.

The battle continued until the respondents pushed the dead back to the end of the walkway then the fight carried into the stairwell. The cramped quarters limited the advantage of the overwhelming numbers. Mia led the charge until they reached the newly opened connection tunnel leading into hive five. Only then did she realize the line of the dead continued around the far turn with no end in sight. The size of the enemy was overwhelming and the number of losses the compound had already suffered proved they could not sustain the fight for much longer. She made up her mind on what to do quickly and turned to Rowan to help her.

“We have to takedown this walkway,” she said as her eyes swept over the countless bodies littering the floor behind her. “We won’t survive this any other way.”

“This is what you’ve been searching for,” Rowan reminded her. “This is the only way to reach the generators.”

Mia was aware of the fact, but she couldn’t see it another way. If they couldn’t get to the generators before the horde reached Canaan, they would at least have time to retreat to Cheyenne. If they risked keeping the passage open, they may not live to see tomorrow. In her mind, the choice was already made.

“This is what we have to do.”

Rowan hesitated and as he did, Asher pulled in next to him. The blood on his face proved he’d already had his share of the fray.

“There must be another way,” Asher said then continued on before Mia could object. “Push them back to the branching hall beyond the passage and we can try and bring the ceiling down on top of them.” He considered it for a moment. “We’ll have to hope it doesn’t collapse the entire passageway with it.”

Mia wanted more detail, but she didn’t get it. Asher spun around and ran off in the direction he’d come. The fight continued beyond the breach and the sounds of echoing screams pulled her away from her questions. Ammunition was a finite resource. The soldiers had the capability to build their own ammo, but the tribal council knew the supplies wouldn’t last forever. The amount of gunfire brought the reality of the supply drain to the forefront of her mind.

“We should pull them back to the doorway,” Rowan said as if reading her mind. “The confined space will be more effective than fighting them in the hall.”

Mia agreed. The response force had grown to a few dozen men and women. Some were clad in the fatigues of the compound’s soldiers; others were dressed in varying degrees of whatever it was they slept in. Most of them showed signs of the fight, blood and bits of flesh debris clung to clothing and exposed skin. The weaponry was as varied as the clothing, a few armed with rifles or handguns, but most turning to knives, blunt instruments, or whatever they grabbed along the way. 

The soldiers out in front managed to put down enough of the dead to build a sizeable gap between the seemingly endless row of zombies and the archway separating hive four and five. Rowan moved up to join them, using his bow to help keep the distance clear. The front line of the dead suddenly broke and the pack was reduced to a few scattered shambling bodies. Mia pushed in through the breach and reached Rowan.

“This is our chance,” she said. A quick look back didn’t help her find Asher. “Forget the breach,” she decided. “Let’s push them around the turn and into the adjoining hall between hive five and six while we have the chance.”

Rowan and a handful of soldiers followed her directions, and they’d nearly cleared the entire passageway connecting the hives when a clamor rang out from the frontline. Mia rushed to reach them. The fight had slowed to the point that none of the soldiers were firing. She was by Rowan’s side when she got her first view of what had produced the break in the line of the dead. Light filled the adjoining hall in the distance as a swell of black smoke poured through every opening.

“Someone lit a fire,” Rowan announced.

The dark shadows of the dead flashed in and out of the light as the mindless creatures stumbled through the flames, catching ablaze as they went. Mia couldn’t guess the meaning behind the fire. The small group of responders that pushed into hive six were holding at the turn. Her mind came to a single conclusion:
it’s now or never
.

“Asher!”

The name carried back down the hall, and she yelled it again until he pushed through the crowd near the breach and ran toward her.

“I got one,” he said holding up a perfectly smooth stick about half the length of his forearm. “It should be enough to bring the tunnel down.”

He said the last part with a bit of skepticism.

“Bring it down how?” Rowan asked.

“It’s a stick of dynamite,” he explained. “You light this wick and we throw it and run.”

“Then what?”

Asher’s brow furrowed.

“It blows up,” he said, and his hands became animated as he did. “It will blow the hell out of that tunnel.”

Mia didn’t rightly understand his explanation, but the dying fire told her that if they were going to try Asher’s plan, it would have to be now. She set her mind to it.

“Get everyone back to the breach.”

The retreat happened quickly, the result left Mia, and Rowan huddled around Asher. He flipped open the side panel of one of the remaining lanterns and slid the wick toward it. The fear of the moment showed in the constant shaking of his hands. The wick was an inch from the flame when a new sound pulled away from the moans of the dead at the end of the long hallway. Asher looked up, frightened by the sudden interruption.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Hush,” Mia said. “There it is again.”

She couldn’t be certain, but she thought someone was yelling for help. One look at Rowan and she knew he’d heard it too. Their eyes went to the hallway as the dead pushed past the fire and headed toward them. Mia grabbed Asher’s hand.

“Don’t.”

Asher yanked his hand away, and as he did, the wick tapped the flame and the sparks erupted.

“Put it out,” she yelled, but it was too late.

The fear of the moment pushed Asher to act. He spun around and chucked the dynamite as far as he could.

“No.”

Mia felt a painful hint of recognition in the distant cry for help. She couldn’t place the caller, but the impact of the moment caused her mind to fracture. Her legs moved without any consideration for what was happening. She pulled away from both Rowan and Asher’s grip as they tried to stop her.

She ran forward, the walking dead drawing closer to her. Mia saw the dynamite hit the ground, tumble end over end, then slide farther down the hallway. The cry for help repeated, this time closer and clear. Mia placed it as a girl before a firm pull on her shoulder nearly yanked her off her feet.

The hallway spun as Mia was turned around. Rowan stood in front of her, not offering a choice. His hand locked around her wrist and he forced her to run back in the direction of the breach. Asher stood at the turn, yelling something at the masses behind them. Mia reached the turn and her speed took her beyond Rowan. The passageway between the two hives was clear save for the bodies on the floor. The sounds of the chaos didn’t pierce Mia’s thoughts; she was singularly focused on the terror of not knowing who she’d left behind. She was out front when she, Rowan, and Asher reached the breach. Mia nearly forgot why they were running when the dynamite suddenly made itself known.

The force hit Mia before the sound of the explosion, lifting her off her feet. The hallway walls slipped by in a blur as she lurched forward. A sudden burn flashed across her back a split second before she hit the ground. Her body tumbled across the floor then slammed into the wall. An intense ringing echoed in her head as she tried to right herself.

Asher’s face filled her vision. His mouth was moving, but she couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Mia tried to get up and he put his hands on her shoulders to keep her down. The hallway was covered with debris and motionless figures dotting the floor. Mia’s eyes settled on Rowan and she pushed Asher’s arms away and crawled toward him.

“Rowan?” She heard herself as the ringing cleared. “Rowan, get up.”