The Surviving Son (Valkyrie Book 2)

Thank You for purchasing The Surviving Son. This is my second in
what I hope will be many novels. As I am a self-publisher with limited
resources, I have had my hands full from editing to marketing, and still I
am finding errors and correcting them as I go. If you enjoyed this read, but
found issues, please email suggestions and errors to
[email protected], it would be greatly appreciated. Also, don’t
forget to leave a review on the Amazon.com or the Kindle store, good or
bad, it will only improve my future works.

Contents
Presidential Transcript ....................................................................................................... 1
Dawning .......................................................................................................................... 15

Detention ......................................................................................................................... 40
Feign Social Order........................................................................................................... 52
Rooted in the
Mire ........................................................................................................... 63
Mindless Prisons.............................................................................................................. 70
Food for Thought............................................................................................................. 84
Sign of the Times............................................................................................................. 98
Deluge of Apathies ........................................................................................................ 104
Vestige of Hope ............................................................................................................. 106
Within the Tome ............................................................................................................ 120
Rancid Punishment ........................................................................................................ 128
Simple Q&A .................................................................................................................. 136
Parasitic Karma.............................................................................................................. 143
PAPA ............................................................................................................................. 152
Inspired Reunion............................................................................................................ 159
Penal Servitude.............................................................................................................. 173
Nature of the Beast ........................................................................................................ 199
The Forsaken ................................................................................................................. 210
Old World Benedictions ................................................................................................ 221
Hounds of War............................................................................................................... 229
God’s Porch ................................................................................................................... 236
Consecrate the Cauldron Bog ........................................................................................ 244
A Friend of a Friend ...................................................................................................... 250
ECS 43........................................................................................................................... 259
Man in the Box .............................................................................................................. 269
March of Atonement...................................................................................................... 277
Campaign for Restitution ............................................................................................... 289
RESTROSPECTIVE ..................................................................................................... 314

What seems like eons ago, a past life almost forgotten, society
had become convinced that mankind’s reign on this planet was
closing upon an end. Some claimed that nuclear war was the
direction, others believed that we would face a more natural demise;
Meteors, Earth Quakes and Tidal Waves. Theories arose of potential
Civil Unrest driven by economic fallout or even an invasion by other
worldly beings. But the most common assumptions was that of a
rising pandemic, or the words of scripture for which predicted our
fall centuries ago. It is in the last two that we now find ourselves.

However, we have largely tossed away those archaic beliefs of
the old world. And although we all view the idea of God in our own
ways, we have made a unilateral choice to not be driven by them.
As of late, I’ve come across a dusty old copy of The Holy Bible, and
found myself drawn to its cryptic words of guidance. Even though I
have found the fables within to be exaggerated and overly
preposterous, I have also found them to be unusually - comforting.
That being said, I began to see the obscure truths that conveniently
apply to almost all of life’s unforeseen circumstances. So I’d like to
share with you a Verse from the book of Revelations, not as divine
propaganda, but as foresight into mankind’s delicate balance
between enduring enlightenment and perilous ignorance.

“
The great Basilisk was hurled down – that ancient serpent
called the devil, or Lucifer, who leads the whole world
astray. He was hurled to the earth, and all of his Zealots
were cast down with him.”

Chapter 12, Verse 9. Valkyrie is the Basilisk, our construct of
Satan himself, and his Zealots are the Infected. The lost souls who
mindlessly scour land and sea in search of those lead astray. We are
living in the realm of pure evil, envisioned long ago by superstitious
and gullible men. Their prophecies driven by merely observing the
nature of man and the mystery of nature. But, we can still rise from
the apocalypse as a whole, we have yet to be defeated, we have yet
to conform to those beliefs.

I come before you today not as your President, but as a mere
reflection of the vast accomplishments society has made in such a
brief yet ceaseless moment of time. I am humbled to have been the
face and the voice of our own rebirth, humbled by the peoples honor
and loyalty, and most importantly, humbled by our unwavering
determination. On this day, I have much to dwell upon, as do all of
us.

The Great Fall represents the beginning of our new calendar year,
but the true origins of mankind’s fate had begun years before.
Scientists and power hungry politicians blindly tampered with an
already genetically fragile life-form decades ago, and then
irresponsibly forgotten about. When their research was rediscovered
by another regime just barely into its first year of power, they too
foolishly but decisively explored Valkyrie’s genetic capabilities.
Without guidance nor caution, without forethought or integrity, they
dove into her seductive depths. And it was in the face of power and
greed that they unleashed SPV’s true destructive capabilities.

The former World Health Organization caught wind of Valkyries
perfume rising from the degradation of cities in Kazakhstan,
Moldova and Belarus, but those country’s meek pleas for assistance
came too late. Valkyrie had already spread even farther and deeper
into our society, and W.H.O. was incapable of coordinating proper
containment methods. At that moment all research was secretly
transferred over to the CDC, along with a desperate call for
American intervention.

The Center of Disease Control immediately acknowledged that
they were unprepared to handle such a contagion, and by
recommendation of President Donald Cook, all research was shifted
over to Division 9. We were an off the books agency once used to
develop biological weapons for the military, but after the signing of
the Geneva Protocol in nineteen twenty-eight, the facility had been
decommissioned. However, under strict classification, Division 9
continued its research deep underground, but not for the purpose of
weapons development, instead for the defense against them. With
our advanced technology we sought to bring an end to the world’s
rapidly growing desperation, but Valkyrie’s conquest was alreadyin
its final stages.

Upon my initial investigation I found that the infection was slow
to spread, as we all know, via bites and scratches, as well as any
other transfer of bodily fluid. What we remembered of a Kiss
Goodbye had quickly became the Kiss of Death. But as I learned
about her ruthlessness, and I began to see the patterns, Valkyrie
mutated and thus became airborne. Although not everyone was
affected by this new strain, one and three was all that was needed
for this wildfire to become an uncontrollable holocaust. And on the
First Day of the First Outbreak Moon, Boston fell, and the swelter
was felt worldwide.

Within a couple of weeks, the Division 9 complex at Fort Detrick
was abandoned, all except for myself, along with a multitude of test
subjects and research equipment. It was then that I vowed not to
leave my post and continue my efforts to bring Valkyrie to her
knees. It was my sole purpose, and in a way, I felt as if I were on a
direct Mission from God. I was Jonah - trapped within the bowels
of a whale, deep under the surface, searching for a way out so that I
could save the people of Nineveh.

Although I had the resources and an abundant amount of time,
the world did not. Within sixty days from the initial American
outbreak, Valkyrie had reeked so much havoc that communications
worldwide ended in one, devastatingly single moment. June second,
per the old calendar, at Six Thirty Three pm, the clocks stopped.
There was no one left to maintain our systems, they had all fled or
perished. But we do not blame them, at that moment it was everyone
for themselves. And thus, The Great Fall was complete, the point
where mankind bowed in defeat as we were viscously thrown back
into the Stone Age.

Months passed slowly within my veiled tomb, and the pressure
of solitude weighed heavily upon my head, but I diligently
continued my work, and desperately held onto to hope. Then, upon
the first New Year’s Eve since The Fall, I once again sent out a
weekly and desperate message through the Emergency
Communications System, hoping for a response. Praying that I was
not alone, wondering if my existence was all for nothing. I have met
many people who heard this call, and have told me that it gave them
faith that mankind would survive.

“To the living, to those who still fight, to those who survive.
Happy New Year, and may peace be with you.”
Although others heard this hail, my Holiday Greeting was
returned with the all too common static. My call out to the world
was merely to let those who might be listening know that they were
not alone, and if I truly was the last living soul on earth, then it was
a message to Valkyrie herself. To let her know that mankind had not
been defeated, that one still remained, and that he aimed to vanquish
her into hell.
I had never expected a response that night, but not actually
receiving one condemned me further into blackened depression.
Cursed with thoughts that far too many of us have had; opting-out,
hara-kiri, suicide – they plagued me more than Valkyrie herself. I
was a one-man legion, surrounded yet fortified, alone with only my
thoughts and endless analysis’s. Armed with only my own selfdetermination, which guided me through a perpetual blitzkrieg.
Hours later, well into the New Year, and long after a bottle of
Cognac, I rested. My head lay heavily upon the communications
system, and I drifted aimlessly. Somewhere between reality and a
drunken dream-scape, inebriated, lost in a trance, meditating to the
static of the empty airwaves. An everlasting stillness within the
chaos of a persistent hiss, infinite emptiness.
“… hello…”
a muffled voice whisper in my ear, so quiet that I
almost disregarded the thought of it.
“…an you hear me?”
This time much clearer, I wasn’t
imagining.
“…You are not alone, we are the Global Federation of
Survivors.”
For as long as I survive, that brief moment, those fateful words,
will always be remembered.
Back then, the GFS was nothing more than a small group of
revolutionaries and humanitarians who were stationed somewhere
in southern France behind the walls of an abandoned military base.
Consisting of only a few dozen survivors, mostly former red-cross
volunteers who struggled to bring others together, as well as
attempting to survive themselves. I was the first they had made
contact with after months of attempts, and it was all because of one
young man, Larue Arnaud, may he rest in peace.
Larue was a brilliant computer hacker, only seventeen years of
age, who after many attempts managed to tap into the French
military’s systems and redirect the Emergency Broadcast Satellites
back into alignment. Through binary code we found ourselves no
longer struggling to seek out others, but instead we began directing
them to safety. His selfless efforts allowed our voice to be heard
once again, and he will live forever in our own gratitude.
This new organization’s self-delegated mission was to recruit and
to rebuild, not as a country, but as a species. ‘Mankind will rise as
one,’ was and is our motto. Black, white, yellow or brown, it did not
matter. American, Chinese, German, or Pakistani, no one would
care. Atheist, Christian, Muslim or Hindu, we would learn from each
other. Wealth and Hierarchy, banished beneath the waves of the
past. This design has proven successful, and as we have made
contact with more and more survivors our numbers grew rapidly
along with our unity. Throughout all of history we have seen man
come together in the most desperate of times, but at this moment,
we were achieving a state of singularity never seen before.
All across the world our colonies sprung from the ruins like
dandelions across a freshly mowed lawn. From fall-out bunkers to
locked-down skyscrapers. Missile silos to oil-tankers and even one
nuclear submarine. These venues of hiding became our fortresses.
And from our walls of confinement we passed tips onto each other;
how to fortify, how to eliminate, and even medical expertise. All of
which we accomplished through the airwaves by the modern
technology of our former society. Our voices were alive and
growing, only this time it was not a fearful weep, but a ferocious
roar.
Banding together, we continued to fight and face Valkyries
advances with an iron fist, yet with each victory more of our loved
ones are lost. From the Northeast Sweeps, to the Metropolitan
Purges, we have stomped out the flames of this epidemic. From our
fallen sister colonies, to the search for those Missing in Action, we
have stuck together. And unlike before, our diversity is the armor
that has shielded us, rather than the wedge that once segregated us.
On the Fifth Day of the Tenth Thunder Moon, the GFS and the
World declared victory over this dreadful tragedy, for which
celebrations erupted all across the globe. For the first time, since the
beginning of time, the visage of Mankind was not that of many, but
as one. Unity had become a reality, and there was nothing that could
hold us back.
Recently though, as some of you may have heard, our optimism
and fortitude has been crushed by the chaos that has broken out
among random colonies across the globe. Wicklow, Ireland - Ilha da
Cazanga, Angola - Isabella, Puerto Rico- Nelma, Russia - and even
Port Huron, Michigan. All of which have been described as barbaric
terrorist attacks by unaligned criminal factions, simple murderous
hunts, pillaging and looting. However as we investigated, some of
those rumors did not match the evidence.
In each attack our research teams confirmed that there was
nothing of value stolen, except for the bodies of the dead which were
dragged off into nearby forests or barren sewage systems, never to
be found again. And in each instance there was no direct witness to
these events, at least none that lived to tell about it. No faces, only
the remains of destruction and blood. We were facing the dawn of a
new war, one with a faceless enemy.
However, today I stand before the world with confidence that we
have uncovered this menace, but with a heavy heart it is not a means
to an end. Last week, video-records from the colony in Oak Harbor
Washington gave us a glimpse of what we now face. Although the
images are dark and grainy, the movements of the six or so
individuals were all too recognizable, and most of us know them as
Tweekers. But, after closer examination, it became apparent that
they were more than just swift mindless wraiths.
Aside from their stalky posture, lanky arms and pivoting heads,
they moved with thought and purpose. They were precise, each sidestep, and every hop was calculated. They worked together, like a
team of ninja-bandits out of some cheesy comic-book. No, these
were no barbaric criminals, but an unfortunate and well overdue
mutation. Pack Hunters, or what I prefer to call them, Social
Predators. But most of my colleagues simply refer to them as
Prowlers. And from the depths of hell they had been resurrected,
quite literally.
It took scrutinizing research before we found a trend which
implies that these fiends are of no natural mutation, but
unfortunately one induced by my own personal research back
beneath the surface of Fort Detrick. My counter-agent, my weapon
of hope is no more than the catalyst to a new strain of SPV. And I
assure you, in light of this information, we have destroyed every last
cache of the biological weapon. However, this now leaves us even
more vulnerable to an uprising of the original infection. We must,
for the moment, be steadfast and resort to more primitive means of
eradication. More importantly, we must remain united.
How and when these two strains became one may forever be a
mystery, but that event caused such mishap that it has provided
Valkyrie with a master-key to the whole of our brain. Giving the
Infected the ability to work together, communicate with each other,
to plan their hunts. Mindless no more, and our new promising
society is once again put on the endangered species list as every
week leads to more colonies falling prey.
Along with identifying this new demon we have also revisited
our prior research, going back to my own original logs, and even
reanalyzing samples taken from The Battle of Fort Rockland, all for
nothing. Except for one vial of blood, taken from the placenta of a
young woman’s after birth. Mia, the maiden of New England, the
heart of one man. It is from her crimson remains that we’ve
discovered an olive branch, one that had been overlooked years ago.
Originally we presumed that Valkyrie, for unknown reasons, was
unable to transmit through Mia’s veins fast enough to take over. Her
heart stopped just before the spread could take hold. But after we
reinvestigated further we noticed the truth, that the virus had in fact
infiltrated her systems, but had no effect on the individual cells.
Valkyrie could not take hold, Mia was immune to the Devil’s hails.
- ‘How could we miss something this important?’ You ask, and Iask
myself this daily. The reality is that an Immunity was never
considered to be a possibility, at the time it was just a preposterous
concept.
Sadly and with regret, we do not possess enough viable cells to
experiment with, nor to uncover the reason for her immunity. But
not all is lost, somewhere, out in the mountains of New England,
there is another source. We must return to the secluded landscape of
Maine, we must scour the mountainsides, leaving no stone unturned.
As we push to reach our objective, we will also uphold the GFS
Values that we hold dear, seeking out other survivors and directing
them towards our fortified communities. Be prepared to welcome
them with open arms, and be prepared for our own return, for we
will be right on their heels.
Revelations, Chapter Twenty Verse One.