Read The Survivor Chronicles: The Risen Online

Authors: Erica Stevens

Tags: #horror, #scifi, #suspense, #adventure, #mystery, #action, #death, #chaos, #apocalyptic, #apocalyptic fiction end of the world

The Survivor Chronicles: The Risen (27 page)

BOOK: The Survivor Chronicles: The Risen
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Her lungs burned as her heart lumbered and
her fear rose to higher levels. She wiped at her eyes again in a
poor attempt to ease the sweat clogging her lashes. "We're leading
them back to the cabin," she gasped.

"They're not following us, they're just
moving," Donald said breathlessly from beside her. "They'd be on us
already if they knew we were here."

Al came to an abrupt halt before a tree; he
grabbed hold of Mary Ellen's free arm and pulled her up against the
tree. She could barely see the boards in front of her. It took her
a minute to understand what she was looking at as he hissed in her
ear, "Climb."

"They climb too," she protested.

"Even if they're in the trees the height
will give us an advantage and we're not going to outrun them.
Climb
Mary Ellen," he
commanded.

She tucked her gun into her waistband,
grabbed hold of a board, and began to pull herself up the tree. She
glanced at the stand above her but she could barely see it through
the thick leaves and branches of the tree. Blinking back the sweat
in her eyes, she focused on the boards in front of her as she
climbed steadily higher into the great oak. Reaching above her, she
placed her hands on either side of the hole in the stand and lifted
herself onto the platform.

Pressing her back against the trunk of the
tree, she wiped away the sweat rolling down her face again. She
blinked in surprise at the blood that coated the back of her
forearm when she pulled it away. The branch hadn't just caused her
skin to swell up but had also split it open. Donald climbed through
the hole behind her and dropped the backpack onto the wooden
platform.

Kneeling at the edge of the platform, he dug
into the bag as Al joined them on the stand. It was cramped with
the three of them on it, but there was still at least a foot on
each side for them to move around a little. Her gaze went to the
wood beneath her feet, she didn't see any cracks or rot in it, but
that didn't mean it was safe. She doubted the person who had built
it had done so with the intention of having three people standing
on it.

"Get against the tree," Al commanded.

"Are we going to shoot at them?" she
whispered.

Al stared at the two of them before shaking
his head. "You've both gotten better with a gun but we don't know
how many of them there are. We can't risk being overrun or even
worse drawing more of them here."

Mary Ellen shuddered and glanced at the
ground below them again. "Only shoot if it becomes necessary," Al
whispered.

"Ok," she agreed tremulously.

Donald pulled something from the bag, rose
to his feet and approached her. She didn't know what he intended
until he wiped the blood away with a cloth. With the blood gone she
could see better but her eye was still half swollen shut.

"It's not deep," he whispered as he tied the
cloth around her head and knotted it. Her hand went up to it; she
tried to figure out what he'd used as her fingers ran over the
material and knot. "Bandana."

Mary Ellen nodded but she didn't dare speak
as a burst of eerie laughter echoed through the trees around them.
A loud cry from above caused her head to tilt back. A squirrel
leapt from the tree beside them into the leafy bowers over her
head. Its tail curled over its back, it screeched its displeasure
again before running from one branch to another. Mary Ellen almost
told it to be quiet but that would be like telling the wind not to
blow.

She pulled her gun from her jeans and tried
to catch her breath. She'd let her guard down these past couple of
weeks; she'd mistakenly begun to think that perhaps they could be
safe here. Now she knew she'd been wrong and though she was
terrified, she was also furious.

They'd started to make a home here and these
insane, rotten and
inhuman
things
had intruded upon her illusion and completely destroyed it.

She'd become so focused on her anger that
she hadn't realized the laughter had stopped. Her muscles tensed,
she straightened away from the tree. She clutched the gun so
forcefully before her that she was sure it left an imprint on her
palm. Her teeth ground together, she counted the seconds and braced
herself for the people she knew would be materializing beneath them
any second now.

Al turned in a small circle on the stand;
his eyes searched the tops of the trees surrounding them. The hair
on her neck stood up as she turned to survey the trees around them
too. The leaves were so thick she wasn't sure she'd be able to see
something approaching them until their attackers were leaping
through the trees and coming straight at them with the objective of
shredding their skin and devouring them.

She couldn't think of anything more
horrific, all she could picture was a spider reeling back on its
hind legs before launching itself at her. She'd never actually seen
a spider do that before but she'd seen the videos of the spiders
that
could
do it and they terrified
her. A shudder ran down her back, her gaze remained pinned on the
tree across from them as she became even more certain those things
were going to come from the trees.

Her arms began to shake; it took everything
she had not to start firing at the leaves across from them as they
blew in the slight breeze tickling her hair. The leaves rustled,
her finger tightened on the trigger. She focused on an area where
the leaves began to shake more forcefully. Those things were there,
she was certain of it. Right
there
,
waiting, watching, and silently laughing as they prepared to launch
their attack. Time stopped, her vision became pinpointed upon that
area and the shaking leaves.

The leaves finally parted and a chipmunk
zipped out. The small creature froze when it spotted her; its blown
out cheeks worked as it chomped on whatever it had in its mouth.
Alarm registered on its tiny face before it turned and scurried
back into the leaves. Mary Ellen didn't know if she wanted to laugh
or cry as her trembling arms dropped down. The relief that filled
her was short lived as a branch snapped beneath them. Unwilling to
turn her back on the tree behind her, she glanced down at the four
sick humans that stepped into view.

She became completely rigid, unable to even
breathe as she watched them move. They had stopped running and now
moved through the woods with their heads swiveling back and forth
and their nostrils flaring. A sinking sensation slid through her as
she recalled the cut on her head. Could they smell her blood, were
they tracking them through
her
?

Her gaze briefly met Donald's as more of
them crept into view. She should have stayed on the ground, she
should have run in a different direction, if they were following
her blood it was only a matter of time…

Donald's eyes narrowed on her face, he gave
an almost imperceptible shake of his head at her. She glanced at
the blood still smeared across the back of her forearm. If they
were following her scent, wouldn't they have already spotted them
huddled on the stand as close to the tree as they could get?

Her attention returned to the tree behind
them. She was certain she was going to see a rotting face,
surrounded by leaves poking out at her. In her head she could
clearly picture the deformed and rotten face leering back at her
before it decided to pounce. Not even the chipmunk had reappeared.
Another loud crack drew her attention below her again as six more
of them emerged.

There were so many of them. She was glad Al
had insisted they climb into a more advantageous position; it may
be the only way they'd be able to shoot all of them if it became
necessary. Her heart rate skyrocketed as the people beneath them
swept through the area. The look of them reminded her of a corpse
in various stages of decomposition, but they couldn't be
decomposing, it was impossible. She
knew
they were all still alive. A leper was still
alive too, she reminded herself. But a leper was also sane, or at
least she assumed they were, she wasn't exactly an expert on the
disease and she'd certainly never met anyone with it.

There were clumps of hair missing from a few
of the people beneath them; the rest had only tufts of hair left.
She could see the skull on two of them, and one man was completely
naked to reveal the sickly grayish hue that covered him from head
to toe. Pieces of skin were missing from some of their faces, dried
blood caked a few of them, and one was missing half of its left
foot and hobbled awkwardly as it walked.

Watching the hobbled one, she realized that
more than its foot was affecting its movement. Its leg wasn't
grayish, it was an ugly red color that suffused its entire foot and
ran up to the middle of its swollen thigh before disappearing
beneath the tattered and stained denim shorts it wore. A massive
infection was also working its way through that one, she realized.
Its ungainly movement caused it to trip and sprawl face down on the
forest floor.

The one on the ground pushed itself into a
sitting position but it didn't move any further. Its back heaved
with the breaths it took as its head bowed down. Pity filled her
for it. It would eat her in a heartbeat but it had once been a
human being and she realized now it was dying. The infection from
its severe injury and the sickness had taken their toll on its
body. This one wouldn't be going any further anymore. Its cohorts
seemed to realize the same thing as their heads turned toward their
downed companion.

A sick feeling rolled through her stomach as
the others began to close in on their sick friend. She knew what
was coming and yet she couldn't bring herself to look away as they
began to circle the one on the ground. This was what the weaker
embryos of the sand tiger shark felt like in the womb, she realized
as she helplessly watched the healthier ones close in on their
weaker member. The extremely sick one didn't realize what the
others were doing as it didn't lift its head to look up at them and
it didn't attempt to get up again.

The others moved so fast she didn't have
time to close her eyes before they were on top of it. She almost
lifted her hand to cover her mouth as vomit surged up her throat
but she didn't dare move. She closed her eyes but the crunching
sounds of the slaughter filled her ears. There was nothing she
could do to drown out the tortured squeals of the one they
attacked. Nothing she could do to muffle the sounds of fists
against flesh, of a ripping sound that brought forth images of
intestines and limbs being torn from the body. Images she knew she
would never be able to shake.

Hours stretched by but it was probably only
minutes before the cries of the one they'd turned on faded away.
She didn't know why but tears began to slide down her face. It
wasn't until the sounds of the murder blessedly stopped that she
finally opened her eyes again. The sun had sunk lower in the sky.
It filtered through the leaves and warmed her face and tears in a
soothing way; it was a sensation that was completely out of place
after the horror that had just unfolded and it only made her cry
more.

Bracing herself, she looked toward the
remains sprawled across the forest floor. The other sick ones had
retreated away from what remained of the bloody carcass. They were
covered in blood but the amount of flesh and bone strewn across the
forest floor, and their flat stomachs made her realize they hadn't
eaten their fallen.

She frowned over that realization as she
tried to ponder why they'd left his flesh behind. They'd eat every
healthy person, they'd eat The Lost Souls, but they wouldn't eat
the ones who shared the same illness as them. It was good to know
even they had their standards, she thought with wry amusement.

She exchanged a look with Al and Donald as
the sick humans grouped together. She didn't hear words coming from
them but some sort of communication went on as they gestured at the
woods. She didn't dare move but now that they'd stopped to regroup
beneath them, she was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that
she was exhausted. Her legs trembled from exertion, her feet
throbbed, but she remained as still as stone as the sun continued
its descent in the sky.

She had no idea what they were going to do
if those things didn't move away and they were forced to stay up
here all night. They would eventually draw attention to themselves.
Donald had food and water in his backpack, but she already felt a
growing pressure in her bladder. For the first time since she was
six, she may actually pee her pants again, but that was a problem
for later. Now she was more concerned that one of them would tilt
their heads back and focus upon them.

That concern was short lived as they began
to move into the trees. Mary Ellen remained completely still while
she watched their backs fade away in to the trees. A flock of birds
took flight but this one was smaller than before as night had begun
to settle in.

Mary Ellen wanted to find relief in the fact
that they'd left but her heart started to race as she lifted her
eyes to the trees in front of her. She couldn't see the cabin from
here, not through the foliage, but she knew where it was.

Directly in the path of the horde.

CHAPTER 21

Riley,

From behind her the sound of metal crashing
against the linoleum floor with a rattling ting echoed through the
store. It was accompanied by the sound of plastic rubber balls
bouncing across the floor. The familiar, hollow sound of those
balls caused an odd shift in her reality. Memories of being at
school and running around the playground flooded her. The memories
were so vivid that she was briefly uncertain as to what was
actually real, this store around her, or the vibrant laughter of
her childhood friends.

BOOK: The Survivor Chronicles: The Risen
7.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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