The Decaying World Saga (Book 1): Tribes of Decay (24 page)

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Authors: Michael W. Garza

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BOOK: The Decaying World Saga (Book 1): Tribes of Decay
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Dr. Olric forced the zombie boy forward with a jab on the pole and it swiped at Rowan. The dance continued as Rowan lunged one way and then sprinted off quickly to the opposite side. The doctor backed away, approaching the far end of the central row. One look told Rowan that the door to the safe passage lay a few steps behind him. Lights sprang to life within a tunnel beyond the door continuing down a wide shaft. Dr. Olric stepped through the opening and pulled the boy back with him.

“Burn in hell, insect,” Dr. Olric yelled. He reached for something out of view inside the tunnel and the doors began to close. “This is the end for you, my friend.”

Rowan didn’t have time to think. He jumped toward the tunnel and the boy reached out for him. Rowan grabbed the zombie’s hands and pulled back. Dr. Olric erupted in a livid shriek as the doors slammed closed, severing the pole between him and his creature. Rowan hit the ground on his back, the undead boy landing on top of him, knocking his knife out of his hand.

The pungent smell of death engulfed Rowan, saturating his insides with every panting breath. He shoved his forearm between him and the boy and tried to roll him off. The undead child grabbed two handfuls of Rowan’s shirt and pulled himself in closer for a taste. The boy grew animated as his feast lashed underneath him. A wave of endless moans rose to a heightened madness as the eyes of the undead spectators drove toward a flesh-lustful frenzy.

Rowan slipped one leg out from under the boy then rotated his body. The move ended with the combatants trading places, but Rowan couldn’t get away. The boy yanked at him with enough force to tear the skin around his decaying forearms. Its tattered remains of clothing showed through to blackened muscle beneath the skin.

The pit of its mouth opened wide as it lunged up for a bite. Rowan threw his head back a moment before its rotting teeth slammed together, missing him by an eyelash. Rowan slid his arm along its chest, under the chin. The position gave him the advantage he needed to pull away, breaking the creature’s grip.

A quick scramble brought Rowan to his feet as the boy got up on all fours. Rowan stepped behind him and grabbed a hold of the remaining section of the pole still connected to the leash around its neck. The zombie fought for a moment before accepting its new master. Rowan gathered his bearings and picked his knife up then forced the boy toward the ascending stairs. The pair neared the containment area entrance to find a curious development. Apparently, Himu decided to make his escape when Rowan ran off; Garret, however, had other plans.

“I thought you’d left us,” Garret said looking up from the floor. He was on top of Himu with one arm wrapped around the assistant’s neck and the other latched to one of his arms. “And you found a friend.” Garret managed a smile before he broke into a coughing fit that ended with blood spraying from his mouth. His spasm forced him to release his grip, allowing Himu to slip away.

“Get up,” Rowan ordered. “We have to find another way out of here.” His thoughts were on Jonah, but he didn’t know where else to look. “How do the soldiers get topside?”

“The main elevators you imbecile. I already told…” Himu stood up and turned around enough to see Rowan’s new friend then he lost track of his insult. His eyes opened wider than his face could support. “The nexus.”

“What?” Rowan asked. “This thing?” He shoved the pole and the zombie stepped dangerously close to Himu. The assistant stumbled back, tripping over Garret. The result left him lying on the ground, staring up at the boy. “What’s so special about this one?”

The answer crept from Himu as if he was afraid to say it aloud.

“He’s the first, patient zero.”

Rowan wasn’t sure he fully understood the significance of what he heard.

“First of what?”

Himu got up on his hands and knees and continued his stunned response.

“…the infection, the undead, everything.”

The impact struck Rowan between the eyes. He glared at the decaying boy with renewed fascination.

“This…this boy, how?”

Himu stood up and faced the two of them. “That’s what the colony was originally designed to do,” he explained. “All of the colonies were in search of a cure.”

“A cure.” Rowan said it but he couldn’t believe it. “How’s that possible?”

“It’s not,” Himu said, plainly. “At least no one believed it was for a long time. Once the colonies turned on one another, we were left to our own devices,” his gaze ran the length of the rotting boy, “but we had him.”

“A lot of good that did you,” Rowan said.

“These things take time,” Himu insisted, suddenly insulted by the remark. “The work went on for decades. Great minds spent their entire lives in search of the answer. In the end, Mother Nature has played her part. Evolution always finds a way.”

The idea danced around Rowan’s mind, crystalizing in something Jacob had said.

“You’re talking about pureblood.”

Himu smiled at him.

“You are one of them, aren’t you,” he said with a peculiar glee. “I knew from the moment I saw the sample, the mix of you two.” His smile widened and he pointed at the boy. “Kindred spirits I would say.” A sudden, renewed fear over took him. “That’s why they’ll come back for him,” he paused, “and you.” He slid his hands together at his waist. “It’s a pity you’ll already be dead. The soldiers will get in here and shoot everything that moves.”

Rowan turned his attention to the cages. The decaying figures were stirred up in a rage. His focus went back to the entrance. Rowan maneuvered the undead boy back in the direction they’d come.

“I don’t plan on staying here.” He jostled the pole and the boy started forward. “Help Garret up and get over here. You’ve got work to do.”

 

24

 

Mia’s plea was enough to sway a majority of the tribe. The rhetoric of her call to arms swept the crowd, building as those with enough courage to fight echoed her plan. They wouldn’t have another chance. If they hoped to gain their freedom, they would have to do it now. The multitudes armed themselves with whatever makeshift weapons they could find.

“The central elevators will rise to the first floor,” Agnes explained. “There’s a security station across from the main elevator tube in each of the hives.”

“And those main elevators are the only way to get topside?” Mia asked.

Agnes nodded. “If what you say is true.” She looked around at the faces of the other tribal council members, each of them pressed in close around Mia. “We need to keep everyone from going topside until you’re able to set off the defense system along the walls.”

Mia nodded, silently acknowledging the small possibility of success. There would be much blood shed if they were to reach the security station. Not to mention that the defense system Connor described to her upon their arrival might kill them all. She hadn’t bothered to consider how they planned to set the system off if they were able to reach their destination in time. With all of the difficulties of the way ahead running through her mind, she was surprised to find herself thinking of Rowan. The notion that they were so close to one another ate at her. Jonah’s brief description of their escape made it difficult to determine if there was any chance of finding him in all of the chaos. Her eyes darted toward the gate and settled on Jonah. Mia excused herself from the council and headed for her brother.

“Are we going yet?” he asked, tapping the end of a makeshift club against the palm of his hand.

“What are you going to do with that?” she asked.

“I’m not a baby.”

Mia nodded. “I know that,” she admitted. “I don’t know what we’re walking into.”

“I’m not afraid.” He puffed out his chest. “I’ve seen worse than this.”

The sight made Mia beam a sad smile. “I’m sure you have.” She brushed the hair from his face. “I need to tell you what happened to the tribe,” she hesitated, “to father.”

His eyes shot up to meet hers. “No you don’t,” he said. “You don’t need to tell me anything.” She tried to continue, but he cut her off. “We found each other, against everything that’s happened and I’m grateful for that.”

His words struck Mia. She watched him fight off tears as his eyes swelled.

“I think about him,” Jonah said, his voice somehow more mature than his years, “and I want to keep the memories that I have.” He shook his head. “I don’t need to know anything else. I’m going to protect you now, because that’s what he would want me to do,” he assured her. “We’ll find Rowan and Garret and then we’ll get out of here.”

Mia stroked his cheek as she bit down on her lip and grinned.

“You’ll stay close to me, won’t you?” she asked. He nodded and she turned and headed back to where the council had gathered. “I feel safer already.”

The plan was quickly set, although there wasn’t much to it. A small group of the tribe checked the elevator and discovered that it was off-line, which suggested that the control station had decided to leave their slave labor for dead. The only remaining choice was to attempt to reach the bottom row of the platforms lining the interior wall of the immense opening above them. Once they started the ascent, they would split the core group into four factions each trying to reach the administration levels. Three of the factions would act as a diversion, while Mia’s group focused on reaching the security station. Armed with little more than scraps of wood and metal, the main force of a couple hundred stood atop the massive caged living quarters that had been their cell.

“We’ll go up with the second group,” Mia said to Jonah. “Stay close to me.” She’d repeated the instructions more times than she could count, but she was too nervous to stop herself. Gunshots from somewhere above said the first of the tribesmen were discovered on their initial assault. “Let’s go.”

She pulled Jonah until she could feel him behind her. They’d lashed serval makeshift ropes to items they fastened into hooks, each hanging down from the lowest of the platforms a few stories above. Mia climbed hand over hand, hampered by a man above her. They were midway up the line when another series of shots rang out, this time countered by the screams of those taking the brunt of the fire.

Mia was up and over the railing, reaching down for Jonah before she ever saw what was going on in the storage area beyond the archway aligned with the platform. Jonah came over the railing holding onto the club he’d tied off to his belt. Climbers continued to pull themselves up behind him as Jonah shoved Mia up against the wall seconds before bullets plunged into the next man up. Blood dotted Mia’s face as the impact of Jonah slamming into her forced the air out of her lungs.

“Get down,” he yelled, positioning himself between her and the archway. “Stay here.”

The boy turned to run and nearly got away. Mia snatched him by his sleeve and brought him to a sudden stop.

“You get your ass down,” she demanded.

Mia stepped around him and peered through the opening at a gut-wrenching scene. Tribesmen lined the backside of a row of crates near an open floor. Bodies dotted the space between the crates and another row on the opposite side. The clothing gave them away, most of which were from the tribe, but some were clad in the black uniforms of the soldiers. Mia’s eyes were on a pair of women and a young boy no older than Jonah. All three lay face down surrounded by a widening pool of blood.

She pulled back then motioned for Jonah to follow. They dashed through the archway at the first halt in the gunfire and were down behind the crates when the next round went off. Some of the tribesmen had acquired guns, but few of them appeared to know what to do with them. Mia guessed the one or two firing back at the soldiers were the only thing keeping them from overtaking the group.

“We’re trapped,” Jonah said. “We’ve got to get to the other side.”

Mia knew he was right. It wouldn’t matter how many tribesmen reached the platform, it was going to turn into target practice. She was drawn to the sight of Agnes rushing toward her in the next wave of figures pushing in from the platform. The old woman ran in an odd crouched position that made her look like she was going to topple over at any moment. Mia ran out and grabbed her as another wave of firing erupted across the room. They slammed into the backside of the metal crates as a pair.

“You’re going to need this gun more than me,” Agnes said holding the weapon out for her. “Take it.”

Mia cautiously picked it up, unsure of the weight. She only knew it was a handgun because the woman said it was. Mia had never actually held one. It felt heavier in her hands than she thought it would. She turned it around to examine both ends and Agnes snatched it away.

“That thing’s loaded,” she said. “I’ve seen enough of these over the years to show you how to keep from killing yourself.” The crash course that followed left Mia more scared of the thing than she had been when they started. “It only has eight rounds.”

Agnes handed it back to Mia and she took it with a bit more confidence. She reassured herself that she wasn’t going to blow her head off, but it didn’t help her nerves. She’d much rather have a bow or a knife, but the barrage of gunfire hitting the wall behind her told her that neither would help her at the moment.

“That’s most of our group,” Agnes said, peering down the line of figures positioned behind the crates. “We’re going to have to make room for the next wave.”

Agnes motioned at the closest man across from them and gave the signal to pass along. He swallowed hard before returning an uncomfortable nod. Agnes pulled Jonah back from the edge and took a long breath for herself. Mia felt the woman’s hand tremble when she placed it on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. She found an unusual comfort in their shared fear.

“If you lead,” Agnes said, “they’ll follow you.” She turned her attention to Jonah before Mia had a chance to give it a thought. “And you, young man, stay with me and move when I move.”

Mia gave her brother a silent affirmation and forced him to return it before he looked away. Satisfied with Jonah’s relative safety, she skirted around him and took up a position at the side of the crate. She waited for the faces across from her to lock onto her. Mia tried to convey her determination in a single stare. The first group of wide-eyed men, women, and children gave her a reassuring nod and readied themselves. Mia waited for the next break in the gunfire then made her move.

She was up and out in the open before her brain could process what she was doing. A yell erupted from her gut as she released the panic playing havoc on her nerves. An echoing cry washed over her as the multitudes rushed out from their hiding positions behind her. Mia raised her gun and fired at the first sign of the enemy.

The gun went off, missing the target by a wide length. She fired again, closing in, but her aim was no better. Several soldiers followed the first man up, each coming over the top of their positions, leveling their barrels on the tribesmen running wild out in to open space. Rounds whizzed by inches from Mia, but she never stopped moving. Both friends and foes fell, littering the way with bodies and blood. Mia reached the midway point when her eyes found movement at the exit. A figure stepped through from the other side and the sight brought her to a dead stop.


“This is completely insane.”

It was apparent that Himu didn’t approve of Rowan’s plan, but he didn’t care. Garret was fading fast. Rowan had to find a way to get them to the surface or all hope was lost. He had it in mind that Jonah would try to use the elevators. Most likely the boy was already dead, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. His world was closing in around him and any chance of survival was lessening with every heartbeat.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Rowan said to Himu, ignoring his objection. He put out his hand for Garret. “You got anything left?”

Garret sat motionless, his back against one of the countless terminals. He opened his eyes and the black voids stared back at Rowan with little resemblance to the tribesman clinging to his soul.

“Not much,” he said then reached out and took his hand. “You know what that means.”

The vague reference to what Rowan would soon be forced to do shook him to the core.

“Not yet,” he countered. “Stay with me.”

Garret grimaced then nodded. Rowan pulled him up to his feet. Garret swayed, but managed to stay up right, using the top of the terminal for balance. He motioned at Himu when he was sure of his footing.

“Keep your focus on him,” Garret said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Rowan’s initial plan was quickly shot down. Himu assured him there was nothing he could do to open the door to the safe passage. Even more so, he insisted there was nothing Doctor Olric could do to open it from the other side. As a failsafe mechanism, the tunnel was set to begin collapsing on itself shortly after the door locked in place.

Rowan had no reason to trust a single word Himu said. Threatening his life didn't produce any teetering in his stance. It was left to Rowan to figure out another way, but there wasn’t much left for him to work with. He reconfirmed his new set of directions to Himu and shoved him from behind to get his point across.

“How close?” he asked.

“Two floors,” Himu said as he worked through the key pad on the console.

The assistant let it slip that he could monitor the elevator positions and it created the spark that led to Rowan’s plan. He maneuvered the undead boy to face the direction of the stairs at the opposite end of the row running down the middle of the cages. The billowing moans of the dead crammed in the cells around them were a glaring reminder of how bad his plan might be.

“Open the main door,” Rowan said.

Himu did as he was told and the entrance to the containment area slid open on the far side of the room. Rowan helped Garret, still holding on to the pole connected to the zombie boy’s leash. He sat Garret down in a narrow space between the last terminal in the row and the wall beside the safe passage door then turned his attention back to Himu.

“Don’t move until I say.”

Himu’s face twitched before he bobbed his head in confirmation. Rowan backed himself into the space with Garret and crouched down, forcing the boy directly out in front of them.

“You know this will never work,” Himu said without bothering to turn around. “We’re going to die one way or another.”

Rowan pressed himself further into the cramped space until his head was hidden from view. He held the undead boy out close enough to Himu that the creature could wrap his hands around him if he let go of the leash.

“Remember,” Rowan shot back, “you’ll die first.”

The remark was enough to keep Himu quiet. Rowan focused on the door. He was sure soldiers would soon come pouring through the opening. Himu boasted about the alert Dr. Olric set off prior to his cowardice retreat. Rowan wasn’t as confident that anyone would respond under the circumstances. In the end, the numbers wouldn’t matter, all he needed was one soldier.

“The elevator is on the ground floor,” Himu announced then positioned his finger over a single key on the panel. “Get ready.”

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