The Surviving Son (Valkyrie Book 2) (16 page)

“JESUS CHRIST!” Steph exclaimed as she slid the stool
sample under the scope and took her first glimpse.
Quickly I scooted over to see what she had discovered, and what
I found was completely different than anything I had seen before.
The feces of most of the Infected I’ve studied was a sludge
consisting of a mixture of dead cells; human, bacteria, even
Valkyrie. The rest was made up of toxic and unusable material such
as mercury, lead, fats, and cellulose. But what we found in the
bowels of the Prowler was the breeding grounds for Valkyrie, a
maturation chamber, or the brood of a hive. New cells fed off
general wastes, which has driven each one towards further
mutations. Each individual cell had trivial yet possibly devastating
differences from one another. As if each cell was its own virus, and
its effects on other lifeforms would at this time remain a mystery
that would hopefully never be solved.
Upon this discovery we incinerated all of the samples, as well
as dragging the Prowler’s corpse back to the cabin to dispose of it.
Now, it was even more imperative that we get back to the GFS,
along with Abel. Although our allotted time to find a cure was
limited, it appeared to be at an end, and any day a new and more
diverse pandemic could be unleashed, but this time there would be
no hope in stopping it.

Steph has become quite the Impressive home maker, taking the
initiative and displaying a keen sense of opportunity. As Abel and I
worked around the property to enhance our defenses by adding new
fencing and other barriers, she was back at the cabin with other
motives in mind. After a hot day of work, we returned to the cabin
in hopes of a simple meal of beans, or in Abel’s opinion, rank meat.
But instead we were met with a feast for the saint’s, and both of our
mouths watered with anticipation.

The dinner table which had been commandeered for our
equipment was now lavished with a bounty of food. From a salad
made of a variety of wild greens, to wild carrots and potatoes. A
fresh baked loaf of bread still steamed to one end, and an endless
bounty of wildberries along with a fresh pitcher of goat’s milk. But
what really caught our eyes was the perfectly roasted turkey at the
center of the buffet. Abel and I looked at each other, than to the
shining face of Steph, smiling with pride at her accomplishment.

“How the hell?” I gasped.
“I went out this morning to gather berries and everything else
just seemed to fall from heaven.” She chuckled. “The God’s must
like us.”
“Did the turkey fall from heaven too?” I asked as we sat down
at the table.
“It just wandered by as I was picking.” She smiled. “All it took
was a swift kick to the neck.”
“Amazing.” I said.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” She responded.
“Wrong time of year, though.”
“Who cares.” She muttered.
“What is thanksgiving?” Abel asked.
“It’s a day where family and friends get together to eat and
reflect on all of their blessings.” I answered.
“Why?”
“So that we don’t forget who we are, or where we came from.”
Steph added.
Abel stared at us in confusion, for which I am sure this all
seemed very odd to him, some might say even foreign. But this was
good, the boy had already come so far socially, this would help ease
him a bit further into our rising society. The more comfortable he is
now, the better it will be back at Maribel, if we could ever convince
him to return with us. Steph and I stared back at him with pride as
he peered over the food and curiously poked at the turkey. It was as
if we were adoptive parents giving the new addition to our family a
taste of loving comfort.
“You cooked it…” He spat with disgust, and we chuckled.
“Just wait until you taste it.” I suggested.
“We need to say grace, first.” Steph chimed in.
“What’s that?” Abel asked again with a queer look in his eyes.
“It’s where we state all of the things we are thankful for.” Steph
answered, “I’ll go first.”
Steph went ahead with her standard list of all that she was
thankful for, albeit not much different from our own. The food
before us, the company around us, the sanctity of this mountain, and
even for those awaiting our return back home. It actually felt like
those almost-forgotten days back with my own family, before hell
corrupted the world and put an end to such social gatherings.
However, Abel still remained skeptical and gazed at us like we were
a couple of weirdo’s, but still, after a moment of silence he cleared
his throat and spoke up.
“I thankful for Steph,” A shy smile spread across his face, and
his crush blushed in response. “I thankful for stupid-head,” He
muttered, casting me an affectionate yet distrusting gaze, “Ithankful
for these woods, and…” He paused, thinking of what else to say,
and then his eyes fell back upon the roasted wildturkey, “And raw
meat.” He finished, looking up at us for approval. Giggling we both
nodded and gave him a quick round of claps which provided him
with a bit of pride as his eyes lit up and a smile stretched across his
face.
Without further hesitation, I tore free one of the birds legs and
plopped it down on Abel’s plate, for which he stared at it with
disgust. Steph gestured for him to try it, and in curiosity we waited
and watched. After a moment he slowly lifted up the piece of meat,
giving it a quick sniff before lightly nibbling upon the crispy skin,
and his eyes lit up even more. Next came a big bite into the tender
meat, and before long, his unjust disgust turned to insatiable
gluttony as he pecked the bone clean and ripped off the other leg.
Looking over at Steph, I met her with a smile, as we both began to
fill our plates with the bounty.
Abel cared little for the vegetables or even the bread, which was
cast aside for Steph and I. The two of us only had a small sliver of
turkey before he hauled the entire carcass onto his plate and tore it
apart ravenously. Bringing the boy back from his feral nature keeps
proving harder than ever, but it still gave us a laugh as we watched
him feast upon what may be the first roasted piece of flesh he has
ever eaten.
After dinner and as night fell upon us we all sat around a meager
fire, large enough to provide some light, but no so large to possible
ignite the forests that surround us. The temperature had dropped
some as the moon rose higher, but it was still hot enough to leave
my skin pasty with sweat. Off in the distance we could hear a group
of Owls calling back and forth to each other which seemed to
mesmerize Abel while also imbedding fear into Steph.
“I don’t mean to upset you, Abel, but have you thought about
coming back with us?” I eventually asked, breaking the silence.
“Papa said no.” He paused. “And you promised.”
“I know I promised. But things are different now.”
“How so?”
“I thought your blood held the cure.” I said and he looked up at
me with unspoken questions. “There is no cure.” I answered. “But,
everyone still has a chance in the secrets you hold within. You might
be the key to living with the disease rather than beneath it.”
“But you already have my blood?”
“No. What I need is you, my lab, and time. None of which I can
achieve here.”
“Papa said people will fear me… Hate me”
“Maybe, but only at first. By my side you will be safe, and in
time, you will be seen as our savior, and loved by all.”
“Jesus?” He asked.
“Your father told you of Jesus?”
“Only that Mama loved him.” He paused a second, watching
the flicker of the flames. “Did he really walk on water?”
“That’s what the book says.” I answered.
“What do you believe?”
“I’m not sure. I guess if Jesus did die for our sins, then there is
no reason for the world to be the way it is today.”
“But do you believe he walkedon water?” He asked with a one
track mind, and I chuckled.
“Yes I do.” I said to entice his infatuation of the subject.
“Papa said to kill you if you tried to take me from here.”
“I’m not trying to take you.” I retorted. “It is your choice, but I
hope that you would come as a favor to me.” He cast me scornful
glare. “And a favor to Steph.”
He didn’t respond, but I could see that his mind raced with even
more questions. Casually he threw on a couple more logs to the fire
before sitting back in silence. Steph and I watched as he pondered
the idea, weighing out the pros and cons, considering how to join us
but still live up to the honor of his father. He was a lost soul torn
between the comfort of company, and the lonely wishes of his father.
“Do you remember Nova from your father’s book?” Steph
asked, and his eyes widened as he nodded. Brilliant, I thought,
Steph’s quick thinking may have saved us.
“Would you like to meet her?” I asked
“She’s alive?”
“Yes she is.”
“Where?” He asked with excitement.
“She’s back home, in the care of a sweet little girl. I think you
will like her as well”
“Do you think she will know me?” He asked.
“I think so. I’m sure she will smell your mother in you.”
“Can I ever come back here?”
“Someday, maybe.” Steph said sweetly. He stared at me,
waiting for a more confident answer.
“I will not lie to you,” I began. “There are a lot of unknowns,
but I will do everything in my power to bring you back.”
“Why don’t your people come and get us?”
“I’m sure that they have already declared us dead. I don’t even
know how we would get there, it’s far too long of a walk.”
“They have flying machines?”
“Yes.”
“If Igo, and help you save your people, youbringus back here.”
He demanded.
“Us?” I asked as he rose to his feet.
“Me, Steph and Nova.” He said. “She should come home.”
I nodded, knowing all too well that a return trip would be nearly
impossible, being that the chance of us making to Maribel is very
slim. The boy rushed into the cabin with a glimmer of enthusiasm
that I had never seen before. A racket arose from inside as the boy
slammed about, searching for something, but moments later he went
silent, and the candle from within was blown out.
“Did he go to bed?” Steph asked.
“I think so.” I answered. “His excitement must have been
exhausting.”
“The chances of surviving…” Steph began.
“Are better with Abel by our side.” I interrupted. “What is it
with this attraction everyone has for you?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Maybe it’s my smile.” She said with a smirk. “Are you going
to live up to your word and bring him back?”
“If I can.”
“And you would just give me to him, like I’m some hunk of
meat?” She asked, and I chuckled.
“I don’t know. Maybe we can retire here once this is all over.
Give the boy some structure and love.”
“Oh, so you presume that I’d agree to be your wife.” She said
with a glare.
“Is it that bad of an idea?” I said playfully.
There was a moment of silence before she stood from her perch
and waltzed over to me, a smirk still planted across her face.
Unexpectedly she hopped onto my lap, straddling me as she draped
her arms over my shoulders and stared into my eyes. What I thought
was just an innocent and flirtatious discussion had turned quickly
into something more, something I had never once considered. Steph
had never once shown interest in me, not in this way anyhow.
“Steph, wait…” I said.
“Hush, he might hear us. Then you would be in really big
trouble.” She said with a sweet giggle.
“But…”
“But nothing.” She whispered into my ear. “I have no
expectations. This is just for us.”

Adam once had the same damnable curiosity that I have always
been plagued with, and within it he questioned every aspect of this
new world, driven to understand it, yearning to defeat it, but to no
avail. There was a day, which seems so long ago, that every new
oddity that emerged from this dreadful plague intrigued me. Much
like a school boy trying drugs for the first time, or slipping his finger
between his first crush’s legs, it was the knowledge from
experimentation that drove me and kept me alive. But that was long
ago, and today, there are no more surprises. I, like many, have
become placid to the world around me.

Steph, on the other hand, still has the eyes of curiosity, and
reminds me of myself when I was much younger. Yet, that
inquisitiveness she still embraces is dying rapidly, and soon she too
will be immune to the shock of the absurd. Back in our fortified
colonies we were blinded by the truth, much like many horrific
events of the past, time away allowed us to forget or at least dismiss.
But, out here in the thick of it, every day is a constant reminder that
hell is real and with endless horror.

It was well passed noon, hot as always, and Steph and I were
left alone at the cabin as Abel wondered off on yet another hunt.
Much like the Infected, the boy carries the hunger, and can easily
consume an average sized deer in a week. Thankfully he has been
generous enough to allow us first cut of his fresh kills, rather than
the rancid remains which he seems to prefer. Although since our
Holiday Dinner he has become much more accepting of cooked
entrees, yet the sight of a festering carcass still makes his mouth
water. Unlike his rapacious appetite, I have done well to conserve
and stretch out our rations. Meat is dried and smoked over the fire,
and what few wild grown edibles are to be found are consumed as
soon as they are foraged.

But time is not one our side, Steph and I will need to leave soon,
and Abel’s lack of cooperation holds us back. He still shows
enthusiasm for meeting the fabled Nova, however he avoids any
discussion of preparing for our journey. Furthermore, the boy’s
uncertain future weighs upon us, more so than impending failure or
death. He has grown on us, and we no longer see him as a testsubject or even our savior. He is the epitome of a survivor, he is our
friend, our blood, and our ward. But in his eyes, it is us who are his
self-chosen burden to watch over and guard. And today was no
exception to that.

As I swayed between my notes and Adam’s journals, fumbling
through endless thoughts and infinite data, an ear-splitting shriek
befell the pristine wilderness. Blue Jay’s and Crows alike blotted out
the sun in their escape, much like a dark fast moving cloud across
the sky. My heart stopped a moment and I had to force myself to
breathe before I came to my senses and dashedtowards Steph’s
dreadful wails with all my papers dropping to the ground like
unwanted trash.

Sprinting around the cabin I found a frightened pupil stuck upon
the outhouse throne, pants to her ankles and thighs clutched together
in fear. Before her, with its back hunched and head lowered like a
lion ready to pounce, was the withering remains of a hell-hound.
Unlike that of Necro-Wolves, or other turned critters, this beast was
the remnants of domestication, and old friend of man. The tag upon
the spiked collar strapped around its decayed neck still read
‘Wilson,’ beneath a layer of rust and grime. The breed had long ago
been assimilated from its genome, but if I were to guess, I would
have to say a Bull Mastiff or even a Saint Bernard. It was Cujo
beyond the rabid.

I too froze in mid-step at the sight of him, the fur and skin long
ago consumed by scaly black tissue, and its teeth seeping with
disease. It was, without a doubt, the Prowler mutation, but for the
first time it had come in canine form. Even with my abrupt presence
it remained in stalking mode, eyes locked upon Steph and showing
no concern for me. But the low and menacing snarl that creep up
behind me gave reason for Wilson’s unwavering stance. As I glance
over my shoulder my eyes locked onto two more Hound’s, not as
large, but just as nauseatingly evil.

We were surrounded, three more soon emerged from the
bushes, all of varying breed, some with collars, and others with the
tell-tale signs of human conditioning. Snipped tails and clipped ears,
some neutered, and others still boasting their necrotic fertility. And
much like the Prowler’s, they were pack hunters, the natural
convergence of instinct and infection. But, unlike Steph, I was
unsurprised by their presence, and for a moment I had almost
chuckled over it, much like the deranged laughing at the wind.

Wilson took an abrupt step towards Steph and let out a phlegmy
bellow, and in return she responded by emptying her bladder. My
mind raced to come up with a plan, weaponless and outnumbered, I
had little to work with. The devil’s throng became increasingly
agitated, thirsty for blood, eager for the kill. Their eyes burned with
rage, and like that of a legions battle cry, Wilson raised his head to
the sky with a ghastly bay as I stepped forward with my arms flailing
in the air.

“NO! BAD DOG!” I barked with ol
d-world customs, and the
beasts wail came to a halt as it stepped back slightly. “WILSON!” I
shouted at it again with a domineering tone, “GO HOME!” But my
outdated commands fell upon tainted ears.

Wilson lunged for Steph, and her instinct broke through her
frozen shell as she slammed the privy-door shut just as the Hound
smashed into it and tumbled to the ground. Undeterred, its jaws
clamped down upon the frame boards and pried them away in
splinters. Without pause I stepped forward and kicked Wilson hard
against his ribcage only for him to stumble slightly before resuming
his attack upon the outhouse door.

Immediately the others moved in, circling me and drawing me
away from their Alpha’s assault. She would be his prize, and the
others focused on the scraps. Slowly I spun around, my arms still
flailing as I stared each and every mongrel down. Deep and hoarse
I continued to shout commands and curses at them, hoping for a hint
of residual submission to provide me an advantage, but they showed
no reaction.

“SI
T! – LAY DOWN! – YOU SONS OF BITCHES!” All
ignored. Even an aggressive and loud roar which seemed to tear my
vocal cords had no effect on them.

With haste I knelt down a grasped a large rock from the ground,
and my actions were met with a fierce lunge from one of the decrepit
blood-hounds. Swinging hard the rock met its skull in midair, the
cracking of bone echoed over their snarls, and the beast tumbled to
the ground, dead. But the assault continued as two more lurched
towards me, and with another mighty swing I flung the rock towards
them, and the stone pummeled against ones back like a freight-train,
snapping its spine. It too tumble to the earth with a high-pitch yelp,
but still it dragged its paralyzed hind-end towards me, determined to
feast.

Another did not hesitate to leap in, knocking me to the ground
as I caught it by the neck and forced the snapping jaws away. As I
struggled with the beast, another mutt rushed in and muckled onto
myshoe, theHound’steeth coming within millimeters ofpuncturing
my flesh as I desperately tried to kick him off while continuing to
brawl with the bitch atop of me. Steph’s screams echoed across the
mountain as Wilson chewed his way further into the door, stripping
away plank after plank, seeking the sweet kibble within. The two of
us were face to face with death, but I would not give in, and every
ounce of strength I had fought to overcome.

And as quickly as I recognized the young call of the boy, the
beast upon me was pulled off, and brutally flung up against a nearby
tree. Its body wrapped violently around it, and every bone within its
necrotic flesh seemed to snap in one fatal instant. Steph’s shrieks
had been our saving grace, like the deafening blast of a Tornado
Siren of the south, or more like the Bat-Signal from an old world
comic-book, Abel was alerted and responded with haste.

But as I tried to comprehend the events, Abel jumped upon the
back of the ferocious shoe-biter, prying its teeth from the leather,
before wrenching its jaws further open until a loud crack sent
fragmented bone up into its brain, ending the demon within. Abel
flaunted the kill, shaking the limp head like a rag-doll as he grinned
with malevolence and pride. But soon, his thrill of the kill faded, and
he turned his attention back to the fight.

Wilson joined his last remaining cohort as they circled the riled
and deadly Abel with strategic instinct. Their eyes burned into
Abel’s with a common fire, but would surely end with a darkening
coldness. The boy cried havoc, and the dogs of war slipped through.
But, their agility was unmatched to his as one toppled under the
power of a novice side-kick before Wilson was caught in mid-leap.
Abel lifted the hefty Hound like a sack of potatoes, then slammed it
head first into the dirt. With a squeal of malice, the boy stomped the
mutt’s skull, crushing it with an explosion of putridness.

“I can’t leave you alone for a second.” Abel
spat as he huffed
in excitement. His gaze quickly turning towards Steph as she
stumbled from the outhouse, her pants barely pulled up over her
waist. “You okay?” He asked, only to receive a disheveled nod.

“I had it under control.” I quipped as I stood and brushed the
dirt from my pants. The boy cast an annoyed gaze my way before
grabbing two of the beast’s tails and dragging them off deep into the
woods.

Steph rushed towards me, wrapping her arms tightly around my
chest as she broke down from the anxiety and bawled into my shirt.
Gently I held her close and firm, comforting a soul that could not be
comforted. With a quick kiss to her forehead I took a deep breath
and fought to hold back my own tears. Whether they were of my
own strain, or in sympathy for hers, it did not matter. I had to be
strong and in control, I needed for her to feel secure. Otherwise she
may crack under the pressure and succumb to the mental
deterioration induced by this world.