August Burning (Book 1): Outbreak (2 page)

The line of men did not waver as the infected came in greater
numbers; it surged against them, the men with Lion patches striking out with a
terrible frenzy under the torchlight. Where others used bows, or guns, these only
used steel. Todd’s heartbeat was hammering inside him, so moved was he by his
compatriots’ savage efficiency. They would never die.

Todd could see the leader, the head of the Council, the one who
had created all the factions. Jaxton’s dark hair fell from his helmet and mask,
and his spear was dripping with crimson. He walked in the second line, among
those that lashed out over the shield wall. As Todd watched the Lion move into
position in the ravine, he looked back into the valley. He was no hero. Scurrying
down the ladder, he made for the Citadel.

“ROTATE!” Jaxton screamed above the din.
His second line jumped to their feet, from where they had been resting ten
paces behind the fighting line. He could see a break in the flow. He waited
till the last infected was cut down by one of his axmen, and called the
advanced. “NOW!”

His front line of riot-shielders reeled
back from the line and switched with a fresh batch of Lion troopers. They
pressed their black shields into the blood soaked earth and took a step back
from the line of corpses that littered the ravine’s floor.

“How long can we keep this up?!” A
muffled voice cried out from behind a black balaclava spattered with blood.
Jaxton couldn’t see any skin on the masked and goggled figure, but he knew from
the imposing form that it was Liam.

“I don’t know,” Jaxton panted, wishing
he could run to find a set of glittering dark eyes.

“Brace!” He heard his officer roar, and
another five infected slammed into the riot shields, clawing and biting them in
raw futility. Jaxton hefted a weighty tomahawk and placed his left hand on a
shielder’s back. Using it as a brace-point, he leapt up and buried his axe in
an infected’s skull, where it was lodged. “Weapon!” He cried. A younger boy
raced to his side, gingerly stepping over the hacked corpses, and handed him a
maul.

Jaxton turned to strike down another
target when he saw a wall coming towards them. Most of the Lion froze, unable
to process what was coming down the ravine at a breakneck speed.

“Reserves to the front! Reserves to the
front!”Jaxton screamed. His second line rose with confused and exhausted faces,
unable to comprehend why their rest period was being cut so short. Then they
saw it.

The ravine was filled, as far as the
eyes could see. The teeming mass that approached them was a mass of frenzied,
bloodshot limbs and screeching faces. As they closed the final distance, Jaxton
knew there were too many. He guided his shielders into position all the same,
and braced against one.

The impact sent them reeling, as if the
line had been struck by another group of determined men, but these were no men.
The mass of infected, stretching back in their hundreds, pushed and clawed at
the wall with renewed vigor.

“Take them down!” A brave soul roared,
his husky voice rising up the rocky walls.

With a bloodthirsty cheer his men set to
work, hitting the infected with spears and axes, mauls and cleavers. The foe’s
severed limbs and bleeding torsos hit the ground faster than they ever had
before, but another always took their place.

As Jaxton watched, his line began to
buckle in the middle, where the weight of the infected was heaviest. The Lion’s
line began to bow inward, the heavy shielders straining under the weight as
their massive boots sunk into the bloody soil. Jaxton summoned all his men
behind the wall and threw them at the center, where they hacked at the foe.

Jaxton heard a scream as the moon hid
behind the clouds, and one of his own tumbled back from the line, clutching his
hand. His compatriots rushed to him, but Jaxton took a step forward to end his
life; he had been bitten. At the same time, a shielder fell forward into the
mass of infected, bitten on the calf, around the back of his shin-guard. The
line faltered, sensing there was a hole. As another man moved to fill the gap,
the infected surged into it. There were no shielders in place as they broke
through and fell among the rearguard.

Jaxton turned, caught in indecision. In
that moment, an infected man rose behind them, his Lion patch shimmering.
Jaxton cried out in horror, knowing this was the moment his precious faction
failed. The strongest. The boldest. The Lion would die here. He could hear the
horns behind him. The other factions were already retreating from the other
ravines.

“The Citadel is being overrun!” One of
his troopers screamed, pointing. Jaxton threw a glance behind him, to where a
tower of black smoke rose from the valley’s center.
 
The infected spearman sunk his teeth into a shielder’s meaty
thigh even as Liam struck him down with a broken spear.

The shielders could sense it, could
sense their flanks were unprotected, and they began to tumble backwards, one by
one at first and then in a sudden rush.

“RETREAT!” Jaxton bellowed the order.

In the frenzied rush Jaxton sought
desperately to find a Lion patch emblazoned in gold. His search was in vain,
for they had all turned to scarlet.

One
Day Before Outbreak. Washington, D.C

The sluggish river swept past them and into the dark night. Its
churning black waters swirled in the dim lights hanging over the park. Five
figures relaxed at the water’s edge, content to let a few moments pass entirely
in silence. The city behind them bustled and hummed lightly in its own fashion.
It was the last night they would spend in that place.

“End of the road. One final night of revelry,” Jaxton said with
mock severity. His muscled frame cut fine lines in his black t-shirt, grey eyes
cutting back to meet his friends’.
He raised the crinkled water bottle dramatically, “For
those we leave behind.” The cheap vodka splashed on the brick sidewalk below.

“You might as well pour the rest. I’m not having any more of
that. Not even to celebrate graduating college.” The shortest one among them
grimaced.

“Elvis needs a fruity beverage to drink it with. Who was
supposed to bring that?” A strong hand snatched the bottle and turned it up.
Troy guzzled what was left of the vodka, his stocky frame accepting the strong
alcohol without a complaint. He belched and sighed, tossing the empty bottle
into the sulking waters. Another few drinks and he would be rowdy beyond
belief. Jaxton grinned mischievously, delighted at the thought of spending his
last night at university with such a group.

Liam looked at his watch, “I’ll set the timer. I wager Troy vomits
by…shall we call it
 
midnight? Any
wagers? We can also do uhhh…shouting mildly racist epithets or ordering that
horrible Chinese food. No, not Bangkok Tasty, that’s Thai you idiot.” Liam looked
up and burst into laughter, his bear-like form casting moving shadows in the
dim glow of a street lamp. Jaxton looked at his bushy black beard, in envy.

“Why do I always find myself with such Neanderthals?”

Jaxton turned to the sultry voice, wishing it didn’t still make
him tingle. He looked at Adira’s dark eyes and shuddered, hoping no one could
tell how much he wanted her. She was supposed to be for his best friend.

“You must like the attention,” Jaxton ventured, unnaturally
nervous.

Adira turned to him, her slender figure shifting in the
darkness. “What, from you buffoons? Not a chance,” she cooed. They all laughed
easily, but Jaxton forced a smile instead.

“Where is Bennett, anyways?”

Adira shrugged, her straight, black hair shimmering under the
street-light.

Liam smiled mischievously, resembling a drunken lumberjack.
“Well c’mon, don’t spare any details. What happened?” Though Liam never smoked,
Jaxton saw he now puffed contently on a cigar. Jaxton guessed the choice of
brand had had everything to do with the name of the cigar, and nothing to do
with its actual flavors. It was hard not to like him, that bear of a man.

Adira pursed her lips. She wore no makeup, Jaxton noticed. But
she didn’t need to. He hated the power her dark eyes and black hair held over
him.

“I guess I should have expected this from you. Nothing has
happened between us,” she purred.

The four men around her guffawed. She shook her head, smiling.
“It’s true!”

Jaxton affected a light mood, but inside he was elated. He knew
it was wrong of him, but he couldn’t help it.

“If it hadn’t been for me, he would have never asked for your
number,” Elvis pronounced boldly. He grinned eagerly, his hairless face
stretching into a broad smile.

“Is that so?” Adira asked, naturally curious.

“Well, how did he do it? I had a pickup line all set up. Every
clever one liner that’s ever come out of this group probably came out of this
wise mind of mine first.”

Adira gestured for more vodka from a
crinkled bottle, and turned it up with a grimace. “He mumbled something about
thinking I was cute and wondered if I wanted to get coffee.”

Troy sputtered, spitting all over Elvis. “Key word, mumbled.
Tell me you could see him shivering in fear.”

“But it worked!” Adira stressed, her teeth flashing happily.

Elvis frowned disapprovingly. “Well I had one all lined up. I
was also across the street watching this whole thing happen, not to creep you
out. No, I was behind the truck. Anyways, he was supposed to use…”

Liam interjected, chuckling “Do you have an ugly boyfriend? No?
Want one?”

Adira shook her head, obviously entertained. “Stop it. Bennett
isn’t ugly at all.”

Elvis ran his fingers through his pompadour and winked. “I
prefer... I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re making the other girls
look bad.”

“That is literally… so fucking awful,” Troy groaned, itching his
aggressive 5-o clock shadow.

Adira smiled softly. “He could have said anything. I’ve been
waiting for him to approach me.”

Jaxton felt his heart plummet as he heard Adira speak. He
swiftly changed the subject. “Elvis, my man, we need to get you a little more
intoxicated if you’re ever going to have a chance with Harley tonight.” Elvis furrowed
his brow and pursed his lips as if he was staring across an epic span of
terrain. His small hands flicked up to his perfectly coiffed hair and slicked
it back even further.
   

“Lets do it,” he said, with a flair for the dramatic.

Even Troy relented from his customary Neanderthal barrage of
criticism, pleased that Elvis was stepping up the challenge.

“A swig for each,” he slurred, clapping his strong hands on his
friends’ shoulders. Troy scratched his face with a rough, callused hand, and
drew up to speak. “It’s been a pleasure boys, an honor,” his eyes scurried
sluggishly around the group, slowed by the creeping strength of the Popov $14
vodka.

Adira cleared her throat loudly. Troy flung his glazed-over eyes
to her. “You too, hun.”

Jaxton found himself staring at the dark haired girl, wondering
what kinds of sounds she would make.

“How you doing, bud?” Liam
clapped him on the shoulder.

Jaxton snapped his head
out of it; he felt the buzz coming on stronger.
 
“Let’s not waste all our time on the Potomac. We should go
out soon.”

“And we will!”

Jaxton watched as Liam, the gentle giant, clasped the ferocious
ROTC-trainee on the shoulder. Troy received Liam’s massive hand appreciatively,
his head rocking back in exaggerated drunk surprise. “Be all you can be, man,”
Liam said sheepishly.

Troy snatched the final bottle and tossed it to Elvis, who of
course did not catch it. Jaxton watched as he resumed a model pose, brow
furrowed. The man’s fresh kicks and polished look threw most people for a loop.
Elvis had the exterior of a smooth operator, confident and casual. But, of
course, he was a huge goofball when it came down to it, Jaxton mused with a
grin. Elvis took a quick swig, far too short for Troy, who groaned loudly in
disapproval. Elvis grimaced and swallowed.

“To the booty I’m about to plunder- I salute you.” His face
never lost the stone cold gaze, even as the others cracked up in the swampy
night air around him.

“Elvis, how about you never say that again. Thanks,” Adira said
with a sarcastic smile.

“Let’s not get too sentimental just
yet.” Jaxton grinned, tossing his phone to Liam.

Liam indicated Jaxton’s phone. “A party in the Fulton dorms?
Aren’t those underclassmen?” He questioned with a cocked eyebrow, already
knowing the answer. Jaxton shrugged, flaring out his lower lip and beckoning
them. Liam looked to Elvis, knowing they shared a bond of many sweltering and
anxious hours in the library, driven forward by little orange pills. They shrugged,
raising eyebrows, and set off down the paved path to follow their two friends.
One moved like a bear, and the other, a greaser. Troy huffed and puffed after
them.

“Oh my god I can’t miss this. Bennett can meet us there,” Adira
said, her thumbs tapping her phone.

Jaxton followed moodily, angry at his own disappointment.