The Surviving Son (Valkyrie Book 2) (14 page)

Unfortunately, as I stepped up on shore, the wave hit, sucking
us both back into the rushing current. Most of my gear, and my
wonderful catch were gone in an instant as I clung onto Mia, holding
her above the water as I desperately tried to direct us away from the
debris, as well as those starving corpses. Keeping pace with the
deluge was near impossible, a few times we were sucked under as
the rush pelted us with branches and slammed us hard into rocks. I
couldn’t hold on to her much longer. With one desperate maneuver,
I surfaced and grabbed hold of a large tree floating beside us, and
with all my strength I heaved Mia atop of it, followed by my own
waterlogged body.

“HANG ON!” I shouted, and Mia complied, hugging the trunk
with all her might.
We had to reach shore for not far ahead we would enter the
treacherous rapids of the Dead River, a stretch once envied by
rafters, but would surely become our grave with the power of a flash
flood guiding us. Aside from the upcoming threat, there was still
another bobbing along with us. Scattered throughout the river, their
heads randomly broke the surface, before being sucked back down.
And even in this chaos, they were aware of our presence, ignoring
the shards of wood that impaled their corpse as the flailed violently
to reach us. Grabbing hold of anything and everything to push
themselves closer.
Thankfully my knife was still securely strapped to my side, and
I did not hesitate to remove it. Thus began an intense obstacle course
of plunging the blade into their skulls while trying desperately to
hold on. I had quickly dispatched four or five within seconds, and
still they kept coming for us. At one point a clammy gray hand
reached up from the rolling depths and grabbed hold of Mia’s leg.
She shrieked in fear, desperately trying to kick it away, and with all
my strength I lunged towards her, swinging my blade down upon the
infectious claws.
How I did not hit her, I have no idea, but my blade precisely
and instantly hacked almost completely through its wrist, and then
the force of the water tore it free, washing the body away from us.
Mia continued to scream and kicked as the hand clung tightly to her
ankle, and with a fierce thrust I was able to grab and pry it free
before tossing it back into the depths. This in no way calmed her
wails as she cried and screamed for help.
We had flowed quite a ways in just minutes, a mile I estimated,
and the upcoming maze of sharp ledges and ravines was closing in
fast. In a last ditch effort I grabbed Mia firmly and lunged back into
the river, grabbing hold of a branch dangling just above the river’s
edge and pulled ourselves towards shore, dragging her up through
dry and brittle pines. We were not on the edge of the river, but a
good thirty feet from it, in what was once dense forest, but yet the
surge lapped at our weakened legs.
Immediately I scoured Mia’s body, checking every inch and
every crevice, not only for injury from debris but from the ever more
frightening bite mark. Thankfully though, aside from a couple of
nasty scrapes and bruises, she was intact. As for myself, a sting
burned into my senses, radiating from my shoulder. Exhausted I
flopped down on my back, reaching over and expecting to find a
chunk of flesh ripped away by the Dead. Instead, my fingers brushed
against the splintered edge of an inch thick branch imbedded deep
into my flesh.
I chuckled to myself, more from shock then actually humor, and
turn my attention back to Mia, who was now passed out beside me.
Reaching over I gently stroked her damp spikey hair, deciding to let
her rest. And just as I too began to drift off, the sound of heavy
panting approached from behind us. Peering back I found Nova,
sitting pretty, unscathed and obviously lucky to have avoided the
flood, yet simply happy to see us once again

Drifting in and out of a deep sleep, a muddled twist of bizarre
dreams and the growing chorus of early morning song birds kept me
in a semi-conscious and hazy state. Coherent enough to know that
morning was upon me, and yet still trapped in a subconscious world
of familiar oddities. I rarely dream about the Infected anymore, at
least not in the same context that I am accustomed too. For instance,
tonight was a long and never-ending night of people I know or once
knew, randomly hanging themselves from the street-lights that
illuminate the cobblestone roads of Mirabel. Their eyes were black
as night, sunken back, or possibly missing. In my mind, they
represent those who put their confidence and trust in me, only to be
blindsided and ultimately surrendering to Valkyrie.

Those fuzzy images played heavily upon my emotions, pulling
at both helplessness and sadness like some demented waltz through
my neural roadways. However, there was one emotion that did not
arise until the very end, upon the queue of the dawning caws of
hungry crows and the chitter-chatter bustling chickadees. Fear.
Dread had overcome my steadfast nature as a dark soul approached
me from the Renaissance Cafe, an unrecognizable man, yet someone
for whom I have been acquainted with before.

He was an older gentlemen, adorn with a dusty and tattered
trenchcoat, a frayed fishermen’s hat shading his scruffy face. He
had the swagger of the dead, shuffling and dragging his feet, and his
hands were nothing more than leather stretched tightly upon bone.
His hand slowly reached out for me, trembling slightly, before he
painfully clasped hold of my shoulder and shook it violently.

“Rebellion.” He whispered just as my eyes snapped open,
revealing a rising dawn, and Abel standing before me, shaking my
shoulder.

“You take blood now.”He said
with a stone face before walking
away from my makeshift dungeon and reentering the cabin.
My thoughts were a muddled mess as I attempted to discern
what had just occurred. Unsure if I was still asleep I lightly slapped
my cheeks, just to be sure and to assist in clearing my frazzled mind.
Slowly I rose to my feet and stumbled out of the shed and towards
the cabin, yawning in exhaustion as the birds discord echoed in my
ears. Before entering the cabin I took a deep breath of the crisp
morning air and noted it to be better than any morning cup of coffee.
Upon entering I found that Steph had my gear unpacked and
laid out upon the kitchen table, and the boy sat quietly before it,
shirtless and uneasy, yet peering over all the instruments with
juvenile curiosity. Without a word I began to gather everything
needed, hypodermic needle with vacuum tube, rubbing alcohol, and
tourniquet. Of course I suspected alcohol would be unneeded in the
case of the boy, however I tend to live by the better safe than sorry
method.
“Are you ready?”
My voice shook beneath my overbearing passion, and the boy
nodded nervously, yet flinched none as I pierced into his vein with
ease. Steph stood over my shoulders, waiting anxiously to get to
work, tapping her feet with adorable impatience. My own grin
stretched from ear to ear as the vial bubbled with Abel’s crimson
gold, for my slavery had come to a triumphant end, and my mission
was now back on course. But was it too late?

With Valkyrie, I have learned, that nothing is impossible. But
what I have discovered in the depths of Abel’s blood, is in fact an
impossibility. One that even after a decades of constant research
may never be explained. An unwanted yet beneficial miracle that
will take the people even longer to accept, if ever. Change was
forced upon us with a fiery claw, and to let it dig deeper and change
us further is not the direction we have fought so hard for.

My expectations were that I’d find Valkyrie thriving within his
body, his cells infected but dormant, simple enhancements of their
normal functions but never changing or replacing their identity. I
hoped to find Valkyrie alone and lost, wandering his network of
veins like the blind in an unsolvable maze. But, this was not the case,
surprisingly I had found no signs of the virus, not even one stray cell
or evidence of its DNA drifted within Abel’s body. On the other
hand, I found no human DNA either, in its place was the DNA of
something new, a tangled mass of genes similar to both man and
virus, but ultimately distinct on their own accord.

My best classification, based on the evidence, would have to be
Evolutionary Symbiosis, where both lifeforms combined into a
completely new species. In theory, by my calculations, this could
not have happened from the bite inflicted upon Mia at Fort
Rockland. The timeframe made such a metamorphosis and
impossibility. No, the truth of the matter is that Mia was immune,
but had also been infected with the Virus years before she was
rescued by Adam.

Makes no sense? Steph thought so as well until I went over all
the details wither her. Unlike most immunities where a virus is
destroyed by our own antibodies, this did not transpire within Mia.
Instead, Valkyrie recognized the threat, and retreated into a dormant
and undetectable state. Mia went on with her life as this she-demon
within waited for the moment to rise again. That time came upon
the heels of Abel’s conception, the change of hormones was the
dinner bell and Valkyrie assaulted the embryo in its first stages of
development, ultimately merging with the embryo like dirt to water,
becoming a muddy imprint of what they both once were.

Abel is a new species of man; smarter, stronger, and seeded by
the rape of Lucifer himself. This discovery brings me no closer to a
cure, but has given me a glimpse of what could be. For those
surviving and for those currently infected, there is no hope. It is in
future generations, the unborn, that we may find the endurance of
man, where disease and human become one, where unity is
cemented within, and the world will prosper once again. But the boy
must return with me, I must betray Adam, turn against my word.
And that, is the dilemma before me today.

“What are we going to do?” Steph asked.
“We must convince him to return with us.” I answered.
“And if we can’t?”

I paused for a moment, pondering how to respond, remaining
tactful and sensitive.
“He only weighs about fifty pounds, right?”
Steph balked at me for a moment, then noticed the subtle smirk
on my face. “Fifty pounds of mass backed with the strength of a
twelve hundred pound bull.” She smiled. “You are no Matador.”

As Steph continued to go over our research she was interrupted
constantly by a pesky yet infatuated Abel. He fought to provide her
with anything she may desire; food, cold water from the brook, and
even wild flowers. Of course, most women would not considered
the pungent aroma of a Stinking Benjamin to be romantic, yet Steph
still blushed by his sweetness. I fear her connection to him is not
what he has in mind, and the last thing we needed right now was a
crushed heart.

When Abel was off to find his next gift for her I advised Steph
to play along with his childhood crush. An innocent love affair could
turn the tables into our favor. I could see in her eyes that she was
uncomfortable with such heartless actions, but she still agreed,
knowing we had no other choice. With a soft, comforting kiss atop
her head, I ventured outside to sit and delve back into Adam’s
journal. Hoping to completely understand their relationship, aside
from just a father and a son, but something I could personally
connect to Abel with.

The forest can be deceiving, at night as well as during the day.
I’ve always tried to burn this into Mia’s head, although it was more
for my own comfort than her safety. She was quite aware of Mother
Nature’s dangerous façades, but I hoped that just maybe my own
concerns engrained in her mind would have improved her
outstanding ability to survive. Maybe even my own. No longer do we
run about thinking of tomorrow, but instead, we must always think
of today.

Now, I try to pass this knowledge down upon my son, the only
thing of Mia’s that I have left, the fire in my own heart. Oh how he
has grown, from an innocent and fragile newborn, to a walking and
talking survivor. Not to mention intelligent, never before have I seen
such a young child grasp and absorb everything I’ve taught him,
and so quickly. And the things Abel has taught me, even after all
these years there is still more to learn, as well as fear.

Aside from the Necrotics, this land is full of perils obscured by
nature’s absolute masquerade. From bears to mountain lions, and
steep slopes to jagged cliffs, and thorny or razor sharp vegetation
to a variety of poisonous flora. The worst of it all, are the shadows,
silhouettes of despair that move and stumble amongst other
shadows, one never knowing if a wayward Infected walks their way,
or just a shrub simply wavering in the night breeze.

Earlier today, my beautiful son taught me a valuable lesson
about this wilderness I have come to know so well. A lesson that I
will engrain as one of my highest rules of survival, ‘Mother Nature
is a ruthless bitch.’ Never underestimate her ability to misdirect and
confuse, one must look at every yard as a ruse, and ever acre a
minefield laid out specifically for you. In some ways, my choice to
cloak myself under her garments was and still is, riskier then
surviving amongst society’s ruins.

We walked, with no real purpose, just to wander and explore,
simply to improve the relationship between us and the wild. We
hiked up and over our mountain and towards Mount Pucker-Brush
which sits silently and peacefully next door. It was the first time
since we met that I have sought out Tugger’s dwelling. Of course, I
had no expectations of finding it, but if it did present itself, his
domicile would provide us with a large cache of supplies. And, in
the back of my mind, a chance to get to know that honorable man a
little bit better. An unwritten book to his legacy.

Needless to say, we never did make the ascent, but we won’t
give up on it either.
The narrow valley between our two mountains would become
the basis of Abel’s lesson to me. Fairly flat ground, dotted with large
pines, beaten and shattered by years of brutal weather. Seemingly a
peaceful and ancient landscape. We rested there, for myself more
than he. It is something of wonder the strength and agility this child
possesses. I know he does not get it from me, maybe his mother, or
something… else.
Abel marched about, examining the slope before us, looking for
the easiest yet most direct route. The sun shimmered through the
canopy, creating a scattering of light that seemed to focus on
random points on the forest floor. As I caught my breath, I absorbed
the majestic view about us. In awe of her beauty, a gorgeousness I
have only seen one other time. Upon Mia’s angelic face.
Sadly, the memories of my beloved are slowly fading with time.
The idea of losing that visage aches my heart to its core. At least,
for now, I can still see those glimmering green eyes piercing into my
own. Although I see a lot of her in Abel, it is still not the same, and
a tear always comes to my eyes when I desperately try to pull those
fading images back. In most instances, the forced visage ends with
that of my own hands taking her precious life away, and then I shake
them off with a painful shudder.
“PAPA!” Abel called out.
My eyes snapped open and towards my boy, his face as white
as snow as he pointed up the slope. It took me a moment to register
his gesture, but the sound of a raspy snarl snapped me out of my fog.
A mere twenty yards above us descended three heavily decaying
bodies, shambling down the slope with their eyes locked onto me
with lethal intention. Although Abel was highly concerned, three
dead were of no threat to me, and yet I should have heeded his fear.
Quickly I pulled my machete from its sheath and charged the
oncoming threat.
“NO PAPA!” Cried Abel.
But I did not pay any mind to his warning, instinct took over
and I plunged the blade deep into the first Necrotic’s head, sweeping
it cleaning through its face before charging the second. As the blade
split the skull in two, it became clear as to the concern my boy had
proclaimed. The three corpses that descended were being followed
by nothing more than brush, saplings, and vines, overshadowed by
large and age-old trees. However, as the second cadaver dropped
to the forest floor, all those things began to move and marched
towards me. My mind was playing tricks on me, and as I shook my
head, it became clear. The bitch had cloaked them in her own
garments. It was a small gathering, but more than I could ever
handle. Fifty or so by my count, caked in mud, overgrown with moss
and vines, and littered with a variety of dead and rotting vegetation.
Although they were in front of us the entire time, it took me getting
closer to see them clearly. Too close.
“RUN!” I shouted.
But, it was too late as a bony hand clamped down tight upon my
shoulder followed by my feet slipping out from under me, and
tumbling to the ground along with a corpse and his friends not far
behind. I struggled to push it off of me, but he was a tubby old soul,
and even though most of his pot belly had peeled away from his
torso, it did not lighten him up any. Its claws raked against my
shoulders, which were barely protected by the ratted shirt I wore,
and its teeth snapped vigorously in my face as a grayish goop slowly
dangled from his lips. I had managed to position the dull edge of my
blade against its throat as leverage, keeping its infectious bite as far
away as possible. The steel, although blunt, still sliced deep into its
withered flesh, stopping abruptly at his spine. Although mostly
severed, it did not flinch and did not withdraw.
It seemed as if minutes had passed, and that the rest of his posse
should also be upon me. But it was just mere seconds, and before I
could use what strength left in my arms to thrust the blade through
its bone, Abel lunged in, driving his tiny little fist into Tubby’s skull
like a hammer. I was beside myself at what I had just witnessed,
stunned and in awe, until he pulled his scrawny hand from the cavity
and shook off the goop as if it were only fish slime.
“Can we go now?” He asked after I had rolled the corpse off
of me.
The approaching horde was just feet away, so I did not take the
time to answer him. Instead we ran, back up the way we had come,
gaining as much distance between us and them as we could. Before
long we reached an outcrop littered with fallen rocks, and together
we stumbled atop of them to catch our breath once more. We could
hear the Dead climbing up after us, fumbling with the steep obstacle
before them, and all we could do was chuckle at their futile efforts.
A past experience of mine flooded my memories, and I thought
it time we both had a little fun. Without a word I kicked a large forty
pound stone off the edge, and together we leaned over to watch it
careen down the slope. The hunk of ledge tumbled, bouncing off
trees, then ultimately cracking and splitting into two stones which
clobbered a quartet of the approaching dead.
“Like killing four Zombies with one stone.” I chuckled.
Together we cheered, and Abel, excited over his new found
hobby, pushed an even larger, two hundred plus pound rock over
the edge. Its tumble down the slope roared like thunder and shook
the rocks beneath our feet. Immature but solid trees snapped like
tooth-picks under its weight, and just as quick as it started, the rock
plowed through the herd like an out of control steam roller. Nearly
half were wiped out with a wave of infectious gore that splattered
about the pristine landscape, and I found myself prouder than ever
of my son.
“That was cool.” I said, patting my boy on the back.
“Can I do it again, Papa?” He asked, and I nodded.
Abel took his time, searching the edge of rocks for the perfect
one, the perfect size, and the perfect shape. He wanted
entertainment, something we had little of up here on the mountain.
He wasn’t about to waste what may be the last string of Zombie
Bowling on some minuscule and uneventful stone. No, he searched
the pile, sorting through the tons upon tons of rock for that perfect
one. It didn’t take long for him to find it either. An even larger,
pushing five-hundred pounds of jagged slab wedged between what
looked like a thousand other rocks and boulders. But he was
persistent, kicking and pulling, chucking other stones away to
loosen their mighty hold on his Excalibur.
“You are never going to move that.” I said.
He ignored my playful taunt. But, too my surprise, with one last
hardy yank, the slab shifted about three inches out of its binds. I
stood up, half expecting him to slide the sheet of bedrock out like it
was made of paper. Instead, he backed away from it, his face
becoming as pale as snow within seconds. Watching him, baffled as
to why he stopped, I moved to get closer. I only took two steps before
a low rumbled filled my ears, and within seconds, I was moving,
towards edge of the outcrop. My son had loosened the only peg that
held these tons of fallen stones in place, and in moments, it would
all tumble down.
Abel was close enough to solid tree covered ground to leap off
of the landslide in time. I however, was further away, and out of time
to get off. The rocks shook the mountain slope as the mass moved
faster towards the cliff face, the outer edges already dropping down,
and even over the cluster of cracks, booms, and scraping, I could
hear the crushing of necrotic bones. The last thing running through
my mind as I rode one boulder towards the edge like a surfboard,
was how I would soon hear my own bones crumbling.
Thankfully, some sort of primitive instinct came over me, and
just as my ride careened over the edge I leaped and grabbed hold of
a tall hemlock growing gracefully up the face of the ledge. The whole
slope of cracked and crumbling boulders let go, tumbling off the
edge like a waterfall from hell. I couldn’t see the Dead any longer,
already buried in a mass of their own tombstones, and just as fast
as it had begun, it was over, with the last few pebbles rolling their
way down with an echo of pitter-patters and cloud of dust that
enveloped the entire valley like a storm cloud.
My heart pounding and my lungs gasped for air, I clung tightly
to the tree, trying hard not to think of the thirty foot drop below me,
nor the five foot leap to get back onto the slope. Disoriented, a
familiar yet distant sound rung out in my ears, and as my head
cleared, it became obvious that what I was hearing was laughter.
That’s when my eye caught Abel, kneeling on the slope, giggling like
a crazed hyena. Clinging with desperation I stared at my boy as he
caught his breath and brought his amusement under control before
he looked up at me with those bright eyes and said;
“Now, that was cool!”