Decay (Book 1): Civilization (19 page)

Out on the fourth floor more fiends emerged. To conserve ammunition, Guillermo pulled his blade, and Roger used Dead Breaker to take care of the smaller groups. More fiends blocked the stairwell leading down as they tried to move through the door. Once they forced their way inside, Jonathan and Deacon had to take turns shooting as the other reloaded. Fiends poured in through the doors for the third and fourth floors. Jonathan’s years of practice paid off as he was able to take them down with accuracy.

Deacon tripped over the body of a fiend Guillermo had taken out ahead of them, and he rolled down into Roger, knocking him down, also. Deacon apologized as he stood, reached his hand down to pull Roger to his feet. Before he could, however, a fiend reached up and grabbed Roger by the hair, pulling him down the stairs.

Guillermo jumped over the railing in between the third and second floors, landing in a crowd of fiends. He plunged the blade into the back of the fiend that had grabbed his companion. The fiend fell on top of Roger, who despite being hurt from the fall, shoved it off quickly and stood to help Guillermo. Guillermo swung his blade and kicked wildly in an attempt to avoid the attacking fiends.

Roger reached out and grabbed Guillermo by the shoulder and pulled him back. He then pulled his rifle up to his shoulder and fired into the crowd. Deacon’s Remington blasted a rain of lead into the horde as well while Jonathan finished off the last few fiends coming down the stairs behind them.

As the shooting stopped, Roger turned to Guillermo and said, “Thanks, but you shouldn’t risk your life for mine. Are you alright?” Roger’s expression remained blank, yet there was a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m good. Every life is worth fighting for.” Guillermo was doubled over and out of breath, yet he maintained eye contact with Roger. These words seemed to have some meaning for the man as he nodded to Guillermo.

“One more floor guys. Then we run through the building and to the car,” Jonathan said.

They stepped down onto the landing in front of the door to the main lobby. The sun was high overhead, providing enough light to see around the large main floor. The number of fiends was frightening, making the relatively short distance to the car seem like miles. The five of them stood silent in the stairwell. Jonathan planned their move.

“I count twenty-three. Each of us is reloaded and ready. We are not going to make it through without alerting them, anyway. My plan, if you are all interested, is to shoot our way out—pretty similar to how it has been going for us so far, now that I think about it. We can take them quickly, make our way to the car, and get home in one piece.” Jonathan looked from Guillermo, to Roger, then to Shane, and finally to Deacon. Each one nodded his approval.

“Wait. Why haven’t they been attracted to the noise we’ve been making?” Roger asked.

“It has to be Sam. He has some strange amount of control over them. I would like to capture him.” Jonathan noticed that all eyes were on him as he said that, and nobody was happy to hear that. “Not right now, of course, but he does needs to be studied,” he added quickly.

Jonathan checked both of his Sringfields, then stepped backwards, pushing the door open. Guillermo moved out past him, followed by Deacon and Shane. Roger patted Jonathan on the shoulder, and push him firmly ahead. The noise was deafening. On top of that, Jonathan found it also disorienting. They fired off rounds as they walked toward the large door, only shooting at the fiends closest to them for a better chance of accurately hitting their targets.

Sam’s shriek startled the group as it split through the gunfire as he launched himself through the air toward the group. No one knew where he came from, but he was here now and ready to kill. His leg strength was amazing as they propelled his body through the air. He was small, yet nobody doubted he was the most dangerous. The fiends that occupied the lobby had stopped advancing on them and moved back away.

Jonathan fell to the ground with Sam on top of him. He kicked and punched at the small but powerful boy in an attempt to keep from being ripped apart. Despite Sam being very light, he was strong. The boy was so thin that not only were his ribs visible, but also his spine, hip bones, and shoulder blades.

Shane instinctively dropped to the three-point stance he used for football and drove his right shoulder into the boy’s side. The sound of his ribs snapping was sickening. Sam rolled twice and slide across the smooth floor for a few more feet before regaining his footing.

Jonathan was able to fire a shot into Sam’s skull. Blood and brains erupted from the back of the boy’s head, but Sam looked down at Jonathan and let out another loud shriek. Broken ribs protruded from the boy’s side where Shane had slammed into him. Jonathan was unable to move from the ground. He was perplexed by Sam, and how he seemed unaffected by the shot to the head.

Deacon pulled the axe out from the strap on his pack and swung it down toward Sam, who slid back before taking the axe to his chest. The axe came down in time to cleave through his shin bone and down into the top of the boy’s foot, exiting through the heel.

“That looks painful,” Guillermo stated as he looked down at the foot which was split in half before returning his gaze to the fiends that had moved away from the fight.

“I’ve never seen one take a point-blank shot to the head and keep going before,” Deacon said, more concerned with hoping there was a way to put this boy down. He took a second to take a few shots at the fiends that stood across the room, dropping a couple of them.

Sam rolled onto his stomach and lifted himself up on his hands and knees. He crawled slowly to his left, circling around the group. His movement was unnatural and twisted. Sam’s legs snapped up over his arms before his feet touched the ground. The rigid vertebrae in his back stood out grotesquely. His neck bent so the back of his head touched his shoulder blades as he watched the group. The marble floor was covered in the remains of the horde that had moments ago occupied the lobby.

“Do you have a plan for this?” Deacon whispered.

“Not at all. By the research I have done, this boy should be among the body parts scattered about the room here. Perhaps being directly injected with the chemical that caused this infection had some kind of super natural effects on his body. Sort of like the chemical was able to directly attach to the cells throughout his entire body, not just his brain and muscles. That is just a hypothesis, though,” Jonathan whispered in response as they slowly rotated to keep Sam in front of them.

“So they are like vampires? Maybe each generation gets weaker, and this one is like Dracula or something. The ones bitten directly by him are stronger than the ones they bite and so on,” Roger said.

Jonathan contemplated this idea for a second as he found it to be rather interesting. It seemed odd to hear Roger talk about vampires, as he hadn’t pegged him for the type that would know anything about them. “Vampires do not exist,” he finally replied.

“And dead bodies don’t get up and kill people,” Roger came back.

“Touché,” Jonathan said after a moment as he accepted his companion’s remark.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Deacon declared. He raised his shotgun and pressed the stock firmly into his shoulder.

Sam stopped moving briefly and crouched down low. Deacon fired his shot, standing about seven feet away from Sam, who rolled hard as the lead pellets tore through his torso. Sam leapt high into the air, springing off of the wall and landing on the receptionist’s desk. He looked back at the group; most of his small body was shredded. Strips of flesh hung like loose bandages and clumps of blood splattered on the desk and floor.

Noticing that they now had a clear run to the door, Jonathan said, “We run on three. One…Two…Three.”

The five of them took off running toward the door. Their shoes on the marble floor were the only sounds, as the few remaining fiends continue to stand idle on the side of the large room. Sam let out another horrifying shriek, but instead of coming after them, he disappeared through the door behind the desk.

Before the group could burst through the main entrance, Greg charged at them from the left. The scientist was as short as Jonathan remembered, yet he was far from as weak as his frame suggested. His throat was opened up wide and his right cheek bone had been smashed in. A bloody entrance wound marred the far left side of his forehead. At the correct angle, the bullet would have completely missed the brain, or at the very least it would have only hit the small portion of it that would have been unnecessary for him to survive this way.

Greg took hold of Shane by the back of his neck with his powerful left hand. Before anyone had the chance to react, he grabbed the young man’s hair with his equally strong right hand and ripped a large chunk of his scalp away. The blood on Shane’s skull glistened in the sun’s taunting radiance. His screams pierced through Jonathan’s heart like a dull serrated knife.

Roger drove the spike of Dead Breaker hard into the back of Greg’s shoulder, who dropped Shane to the ground. Before turning to Roger, the dead man stomped hard on the back of Shane’s head. The young man’s face shattered under the force, ending his torment and spraying blood like a water balloon bursting against the floor.

Deacon and Jonathan couldn’t risk firing at Greg. Roger was too close to the grotesque dead man, and a stray bullet could cause the death of another survivor. Guillermo stepped up, however, and took a swing with his blade.

The blade cut deep through Greg’s back, severing his spine. The fiend leaned forward slightly, but he remained standing. He let out a low moan and reached for Roger. The gray skin on his hands was loose around the bones.

Roger brought his club up into the bottom of Greg’s head. The sharpened bar drove through the bottom of the dead man’s chin and up into the roof of his mouth. With a hard pull, Roger removed the spike, along with Greg’s lower jaw.

Greg let out another moan and tipped his head back. His stomach contents poured from the hole in his throat and his open mouth onto Roger. The vile mixture of chunky dried blood, bits of flesh, and thickened stomach acid caused Roger to step back and vomit as well. The stench filled the large room, making it hard for the others to breathe.

While Greg continued to empty his stomach onto the floor where Roger once stood, Guillermo took one last swing into the dead man’s neck. What remained of his head dropped. The thick liquid continued to spew from the neck like a geyser, spraying five feet in the air, and running down Greg’s body until he collapsed.

Nobody spoke as Roger walked toward the door to exit the building. He shed his clothing as he went, wiping himself off with the few clean spots he could find on his shirt. Completely naked, he stepped out into the warm sun, set the gym bag down, grabbed two bottles of water, and dumped them over his body. After drying himself off with the gym towel, he put on the set of extra clothes that were in the bag.

Everyone else stopped as the fresh air filled their lungs. The smell of wild flowers was a welcome scent. They remained silent despite their joy at being alive and out of that hellish place. A young man had lost his life in there, and none of them had been able to help. Seeing Shane’s terrible death made Jonathan feel sick to his stomach.

Jonathan walked over to the edge of the parking lot and out into the tall grass and weeds. He picked a handful of the yellow California Poppies that grew wildly in the area, carried them up to the building, and left them for Shane. Looking through the doors as he stood, he saw Sam standing in the center of the room. Turning his back to the building, Jonathan walked to the BMW and climbed into the passenger seat.

After everyone had climbed into the car all four of the windows came down. “You should probably ride on the top,” Deacon said to Roger. “You stink.”

Roger cracked a smile, but no one noticed. “Just drive the car.”

The BCRC lab disappeared into the hills as they drove away. They knew that there was no way they could tell the girls about Shane. His life, along with so many others, would become one of the many forgotten memories that made up the present world. Even though many people and memories were now gone, Jonathan knew that their sacrifices would carry on.

Chapter 20

Emalynn stood on the ladder that was propped up on the wall, eagerly awaiting their return. The town had been empty since the guys left. Many of the fiends had followed the BMW for at least for a few blocks. Although she knew that the guys would not be back soon, Emalynn stood watching for most of the day.

She watched as the sun rose high up over the hills. The fireball gave off its warmth, and it felt great on Emalynn’s skin. Thoughts of throwing tomatoes at fiends with Tyson filled her head as she watched several of them move about in the streets. It took several attempts before they hit the fiend that day. The memory brought a smile to her face.

Tyson had been the first to hit him, she remembered. The tomato exploded as it hit the dead man’s shoulder, covering the side of his face. They laughed so hard as the fiend tried to figure out what happened. Emalynn couldn’t help but think about running in and grabbing a few tomatoes now to throw at the fiends that walked by.

Sophia spent the entire morning worrying, not only for Deacon, but for the others as well. She did a great job of hiding it around the twins, though. She played games and watched movies with them. It made her feel great to be caring for such wonderful children. On the other hand, she felt awful knowing that in this world she would not have children of her own to care for. Deacon would not become the amazing father she knew he would be. It would be too dangerous to even try.

Andy and Amie were as resilient as any child could be. They didn’t like the situation they were forced to live in, and they wanted to be with their real family again. They knew, however, that it wasn’t possible to go back, and for their families sake they would need to survive. Neither of them knew much about death, but they saw enough of it that they knew it was awful.

Fresh air filled Emalynn’s lungs as she sat on the ladder watching out over the wall. The strawberries she picked from the greenhouse in the basement burst with flavor as she bit into them. She didn’t really like them before, but now everything tasted so much better. Being outside was also a pleasure greater than she ever thought it would be after spending so much time confined to the news building. Her skin was tanning with as much time as she spent out in the sun.

The flash caught her eye as the sun reflected off the BMW as it turned the corner onto the street just a few blocks up. She couldn’t help but clap excitedly before jumping down from the ladder and running inside to tell Sophia. Both girls and the twins came rushing out of the garage just as the gate began to open. With the streets being as clear as they were there was no hurry to make it through.

Deacon pulled the car into the garage and the group climbed out, bloody and sweaty. Emalynn smiled at Jonathan as he passed her in the garage. He could not help but smile back. Jonathan found her quite beautiful, yet he knew that her heart still belonged to Bradley. Her soft crying in the middle of the night made it obvious.

Sophia pulled Deacon to her and kissed him. “I hope we never have to be apart again,” She said as she pressed her body into his. The sound of his heart beating was comforting as she rested her head against his muscular chest.

“We found a few things, but nothing really great. Jon just needs time to go through the notes he picked up to see if there is anything useful to learn. If there is, and I’m sure there is, we could be about free of this nightmare,” Deacon assured her as he held her tight.

Jonathan had moved everything from on top of the dresser that used to belong to his father, and he moved it away from the wall so he could work around it freely. Setting out all the papers they brought back on one end, while the bottles of the fluoroantimonic acid were placed on the other. He wasn’t quite sure yet what he would do with the acid, but he knew it was too strong to leave behind.

There would be no sleep for Jonathan tonight. What had begun as an organized process had quickly turned into smaller piles of research papers, then into an unorganized mess of papers scattered about everywhere. There were far more papers than Jonathan had previously thought. This would surely take him days to read through everything here.

After those days had passed by, the answers seemed just as far away as they were before he started. He was delighted to see that much of the research done there used different insects to cure diseases. His grandmother always told him when he was younger that one day roaches would be used for this very thing. One researcher was using cockroaches to help people with various cancer treatments.

Jonathan also spent many hours trying to come up with the best way to use the acid he found. He had set up Bunsen burners, beakers, and test tubes. He attached a drier hose to the vent in the bathroom to pull away any fumes that would cause harm to him or the house. The liquid bubbled; vapor was captured in glass tubes to separate any unnecessary moisture from the acid, creating a much stronger acid.

He took many samples in between reading documents over the couple of days that he worked with nothing more than a short rest every few hours. With each sample, the acid became stronger. He planned to turn this into a form of aerosol to spray into the air with the intent of dissolving the skin of the fiends, but by the time the acid became strong enough to dissolve skin rapidly it had turned into a thick paste.

Emalynn often came to inform him when meals were ready. He welcomed her sweet smile and beautiful brown eyes that seemed to grow larger and more vibrant when she stared deeply back at him. Her intoxicating scent filled his nostrils, causing his heart to pound with excitement. His teenage hormones sparked and popped like an overloaded circuit.

For his own safety, he didn’t eat in the bedroom, but he felt blessed for the time he was able to spend with the others at the dining room table. The group continued to share stories, laughing and joking with one another. Each of them feeling as though they were truly part of an amazing family, and in a way, they were.

Jonathan took his time eating every meal. He knew his work was important, but he had been alone for so long that all he wanted to do right now was have a normal life. He wanted his parents to wake him up every morning with breakfast ready. He wanted to ride his bike to school and learn, spend time with his friends and be a teenager. Instead, he would not do any of that ever again.

Emalynn sat at the table with him long after everyone else had taken their plates in and cleaned up. He knew he wanted to be with her, yet he felt that he would be just a second option for her, and this was enough to keep him from confronting her about how he felt. Despite being a teenage boy, he wanted more from a relationship.

“How are things going in your
secret lab
?” she asked with a smile.

“Pretty well, I suppose, but it is not really a secret lab. I just worry for the safety of everyone else.” He told her about the acidic paste he had created. “Although I am not finding anything really useful in the research papers we brought back with us.”

“If there’s anything to find in them, you’ll do it. I’m sure,” Emalynn spoke confidently.

Jonathan could feel his face turn red. “Thanks.” His voice cracked a little as he said this. He could tell by the way she smiled just then that she had heard it. “So, how have you been?”

“Fine. I’m glad to be here. What you’ve done for us is amazing. I know we’ve all thanked you before, but by giving us a home you have really saved us. We have a family again. I do miss Bradley and Tyson, though. They would have loved being here.”

Rage swelled up in him as he thought about just being used as a rebound or last chance at love. He knew that she loved Bradley, and he respected that. He knew he wouldn’t stand a chance with her if Bradley was still alive. Hell, she wouldn’t even notice him. With his emotions running rampant, Jonathan stood, said good night, and returned to his work.

It wasn’t her fault, so he wasn’t mad at her. She had to watch as the love of her life was killed just a few blocks up the street. Jonathan could understand that she loved Bradley, but after walking out he began to wonder if she was in love with Bradley. Perhaps she wasn’t and she knows the difference.  It was too late to turn back now though, and he let himself become lost in his work once again.

Emalynn found herself feeling hurt by Jonathan’s actions, yet she was smart enough to understand that he was going through too much for any young man to have to go through right now. She saw the way he looked at her, he seemed mesmerized most of the time, and then he would pull a complete one-eighty, and he would walk away. When she went to sleep each night, however, she was thinking of Bradley, and how it felt to lay in his arms, but she knew that she would have to let him go and move on.

The beautiful southern California sun warmed the earth as it slowly moved upward into the sky. The tall figure stood alone on the warm concrete a few blocks away. The figure was no longer that of the man it used to be. But the eyes that caught sight of it were blinded by hope.

“Where is Ema?” Jonathan asked as he came out of his room after a long night of research followed by a short nap. Breakfast smelled amazing this morning. Sophia and Amie had made pancakes, some with blueberries, and others with chocolate chips.

“Outside, last I saw her. Probably taking a walk around the yard to get some sun. She looks much better with a tan.” Sophia gave Jonathan a nudge with her elbow and winked.

“Probably waiting for you to go smooch her. Ewww,” Amie said playfully, and then she began to sing. “Johnny and Ema sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Jonathan didn’t really find it funny, yet he smiled at the little girl. After all, she meant no harm. He sat at the table next to Deacon, who was preoccupied with his pancakes. The blueberries burst like little fireworks of flavor in Jonathan’s mouth. He had never had them before, and despite having a fully stocked pantry, had decided that he could no longer afford to be picky.

After finishing his breakfast, he thanked Sophia and Amie, than went to clean up. The warm water was refreshing. His muscles were sore and tense, and he had not showered in several days. He took his time, not turning the water off until there was no hot water left. After drying off and dressing in a fresh pair of American Eagle jeans and a yellow Hollister shirt, Jonathan decided to go find Emalynn.

Opening the door leading to the garage he heard a familiar sound.
The gate!?
He thought to himself. Unsure, he ran through the garage and out the door on the other side. Emalynn had already made it across the street and was running at full speed.

“Deacon! Watch the gate. Ema went out,” he barked and took off down the driveway toward her.

Deacon ran into the garage and opened the stall door behind the BMW. Jonathan had made it about halfway down the drive by this time. Deacon wasn’t sure if he should close the gate or leave it open. From where he stood the street looked clear, for now. With the two teens running out there it would not be long before the fiends were everywhere. Running back inside, he grabbed a shotgun, told Sophia what was going on and ran toward the gate to keep a closer eye on the situation.

Emalynn ran at full speed, tears of joy streaked down her face. She could hear Jonathan yelling after her. Knowing that she was going to break his heart caused her pain, yet she didn’t even look back. Bradley stood just a few blocks down. He looked like Bruce Willis from the end of the Die Hard movies, bruised, bloody, and beaten. He began to move toward her, taking slow, pained, steps.

It’s him!
She thought to herself ecstatically. Emalynn could see the smile on his face as he held out his arms to her. He had lost his glasses, but he had made his way back. The thought of pressing herself tight into his warm body again made the sobs come even harder. By the time she reached him it was like she was looking at him from underneath the water in a swimming pool.

“Bradley!” she yelled, as she threw herself into him, knocking him off balance. He stumbled slightly but managed to stay on his feet. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her close. Then the smell hit her in one solid wave. She pushed away from him just enough to look up into his once handsome face. Wiping the tears away with her arms, she saw what Bradley had become.

She let out a high pitched scream, but it wasn’t from the shock of seeing the love of her life like this. It was from the pain that exploded from her leg, just above the knee. She looked down past her blue tank top and cut off shorts to see Tyson, kneeling on the street, ripping flesh and muscle from her long slender leg by the mouthful.

Bradley’s mouth dropped open; his breath was enough to make her dry heave. She struggled to keep him off of her, while kicking at Tyson. The pain was too much for her to bear. All she wanted to do was give in, allow the man that once stole her heart to eat it out of her chest.
Let it end quickly, please,
she thought.

Tyson was pulled off of her leg, muscle and sinew hanging from his mouth. He was knocked to the ground by Jonathan, who charged Bradley, driving his right shoulder hard into his rib cage. A move he had learned when Shane had done it to save his life in the BCRC building. Bradley released his grip on Emalynn as he tried to make it back to his feet. Jonathan pulled her up, but she could barely stand on her own.

Tyson stood and reached for the two, but Guillermo had grabbed ahold of him by his hair. The last thing Guillermo ever wanted to do is take the life of a child. Although he knew that the fiends were not alive, nor were they children, anymore, it was still hard for him to do. He raised his blade to Tyson’s neck and began sawing through it. All Guillermo wanted was for Tyson to know how sorry he was. The sharp blade required little effort before the boy’s head dropped to the street, followed by his body.