Affliction Z
Descended in Blood
(Book Three)
By:
L.T. Ryan
Copyright © 2014 by L.T. Ryan. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. For information contact:
http://www.facebook.com/AfflictionZSeries
Affliction Z Series
Affliction Z: Descended in Blood (this book)
Affliction Z: Books 4 & 5 - in development
The Sickness of Ron Winters: A free short story for newsletter subscribers
Chapter 1
Phil Duncan surveyed what remained of his camp from the ridge. Lingering smoke crawled through the trees. It skewed his vision and left his mouth dry, his throat raw. It only attempted to mask what he already knew. Below was a scene of devastation. Loss.
His son lay on the rocky ground, blood flowing from a head wound, unconscious. If someone, or
something
, other than Ralph returned with news, could Phil leave his son to die there?
Undoubtedly.
After all, Derrick had led Sean Ryder to the camp. And when Sean left,
they
appeared. Peering through the leaves at the bodies scattered on the ground, betrayed didn’t begin to describe the way Phil felt. A hundred people, give or take, and it looked as though all had perished in the attack. He’d let Sean leave, and in turn was repaid in blood.
If it hadn’t been for the tunnel under his cabin, he would have suffered the same fate. His son almost had, and perhaps still would. If it hadn’t been for Derrick, Phil would have left the kid behind.
He shuffled along the edge. A seventy-foot drop, at least. Enough to end a man, although not right away in all instances. There were ways one could fall and survive. For a while. The injuries sustained would be too grave to last in the wild.
Everything is wild now.
The camp was the last bastion of civilization.
Did others exist? Would those communities welcome Phil the way he did to survivors who’d managed to stumble into the camp? If so, he knew he’d be better off living the rest of his life alone, wandering the woods and foraging through abandoned homes for canned goods and supplies.
Phil glanced down at Derrick as the young man moaned.
“Get up, boy,” Phil said.
Derrick’s eyes opened for a second, then fell shut.
Phil stopped in front of his son. Staring down, he wondered if it would be worth trying to travel with Derrick. The man lacked the ability to follow directions and trouble seemed to follow him everywhere. In the camp, the effect had been mitigated. There were enough people around to prevent Derrick from drawing attention to the group. But in the woods and burned out towns, he would only bring trouble to Phil and Ralph, and whoever else remained alive below.
Derrick moaned again as he lifted his head an inch off the ground.
He’ll never survive out there.
Phil lifted his right leg and positioned his boot over his son’s throat. Lowering it, he convinced himself it was the right thing to do. Not only would Derrick die in this new world if forced to fend for himself, he’d take Phil down, too. And that was unacceptable.
Derrick’s moans gave way to a grating, gargling sound. Though he hadn’t moved in over an hour, he managed to bring both arms, one of which had a five-inch gash, up and around Phil’s leg.
Phil adjusted and steadied himself. Derrick’s grip weakened, his face paled, and his lips turned blue. Their gazes met and locked for a moment. And in those few seconds, Phil recounted dozens of memories with his son. A tug-of-war ensued within.
“Dammit,” he said, easing off Derrick’s throat. “Damn you, son.”
Derrick, wide-eyed and alert, rolled toward the rock wall, gasping and grunting as he did so. A trail of blood from his re-aggravated arm injury followed him.
Phil approached, stopping three feet shy. “You do what I say when I say it if you want to live. One slip up, one mess up, one fuck up, and I’ll finish the job.”
Derrick said nothing. He pressed his hand against the gaping wound. Blood seeped between his fingers.
Phil leaned forward so that their faces were less than a foot apart. “Understand me?”
Derrick nodded, then closed his eyes and lowered his head. A failed attempt to hide his tears.
“For Christ’s sake. Crying is an offense punishable by death.” Phil rose and turned toward the camp, surveying through the trees once again, looking for any sign of life below, hoping that the right people had survived. It wasn’t enough to have a group of people surrounding him. It had to be those he could count on. The ones who fulfilled a purpose, and were capable of taking care of themselves.
People unlike Derrick.
Phil figured for every survivor comparable to his son, he would need at least four competent men or women to make up the difference. What were the chances even that many survived?
Hand around his pistol’s grip, Phil shifted toward a rustling of leaves below. Ralph emerged from the trees, his face drawn and grim.
“How many survivors?” Phil asked his old friend.
“Including us?” He looked from Phil to Derrick, paused, and then glanced up through the foliage. “Three.”
A weight pressed down on Phil’s chest and stomach. “You’re kidding.”
“Wishin’ I was. They’re all dead, man. Slaughtered. Torn to shreds.”
Phil teetered on the edge of the ledge. The smoke stung his throat and left a metallic taste in his mouth. Everyone dead. His plan to survive in this new world erased in a single night. The guilt he felt at not remaining to fight suffocated him. When had he become the kind of man to run?
But would it have mattered? Likely not. He’d have perished like those below. And then what? Who would be left to carry on amid those
things
? Who would keep the memories and hopes and dreams of a group alive?
“Jenny?” he asked, refusing to look Ralph in the eye.
Ralph hesitated, a sign that the news was as grave as everything he’d already said. “Didn’t find her.”
“What?” Phil said, glancing up in an attempt to read the look on Ralph’s face.
“She wasn’t among the bodies.”
“Look underground?”
“I did, and everyone down there was dead. I’m tellin’ you, she’s not down there.”
Though the relationship between Phil and his step-daughter had been rocky at best, Jenny would be an asset if they were on the move. More so than Derrick. She was smart, tough, fit, and had a mean streak.
“Guessing she managed to get out,” Ralph said.
“No.” Phil looked past the camp, toward the south. “Ryder took her.”
“What?”
“I can feel it.” He glanced back at Ralph, who now had a look of disbelief or confusion on his face. “Our gear?”
Ralph shook his head as though to recall the images of what he found. “Still got a couple ATVs down there.”
“Weapons?”
“Yeah. Guess they wasn’t really interested in rifles and pistols.”
“We shouldn’t be either.” Phil held his hand out, index finger extended like a barrel, thumb up like a hammer. “Remember the gunshot we heard last night right after Ryder left?”
Ralph shrugged, then nodded. “Yeah, I ‘member.”
“I get the feeling that drew them in.”
“How? It could’ve been the smell of food. Maybe our piss and shit attracted them.”
“They’re predators,” Phil said. “Maybe they hone in on the scent, but I doubt that. Though they have no soul, they are born from flesh, and frankly, our sense of smell isn’t that great. But any of us can hear something and then follow the sound. The gunshot drew them toward us. Once they were close enough, maybe they honed in on the smell of the camp and that brought them in.”
Ralph shrugged again. “Beyond me, man.”
“Fatal flaw,” Phil said, more to himself. “Any above ground encampment is at risk of being found by them. And it doesn’t matter how large of a population you have.”
A few minutes of silence passed.
“What now?” Ralph asked.
“We should get moving,” Phil said.
“Won’t the ATVs give us away?”
Phil nodded. “I suppose, but we’ll be moving fast. And we’ll have you as a gunman.”
“Where to?”
“That system rigged to the machine we let Ryder leave on, can we track it?”
“It’s paired with number four.”
“How far can we track it?”
“As far as needed. It’s all through the satellites.” Concern spread across Ralph’s face as he looked up at the sky. “That is if the satellites are still working.”
“Why wouldn’t they be?” Phil asked.
“Just ‘cause of what’s going on down here.”
“It’s not like these zombie things made it to outer space.”
Ralph’s cheeks turned red and he looked away.
“Never mind that. Let’s get going.” Phil started on the narrow path that led through the woods to the camp. There would be no danger in remaining above ground now.
“Phil?” Ralph called out.
He stopped and glanced back. “What?”
“What about him?”
Phil exhaled in an attempt to relieve himself of the guilt over wanting to leave his son behind. It didn’t work.
“If you can get him down there then he can come.”
He knew that Ralph could, and would, help Derrick down. And it didn’t matter. Once they were on the ATV, Derrick wouldn’t slow them down in their quest to find Jenny.
And take care of Sean Ryder.
Chapter 2
The cabin had been abandoned. No blood. Nothing broken. No sign of struggle or sickness or human death. Almost everything remained behind. Pictures. Clothes. Food. Even the cat, as evidenced by the corpse they found trapped in one of the bedrooms. The gun cabinet was barren, though. A disappointment, for sure, as Sean broke the lock and pulled the door open.
The ATV Phil had given them at the camp came equipped with four M4 rifles. Sean wanted to add something concealable. He began to feel regretful again over not going back to his bunker. The debate raged in his mind. Supplies including food, ammunition, and communication equipment all remained behind. He knew it would have been the wrong choice. They would have backtracked twenty miles. There was no guarantee that the distance was passable. If he’d have taken them there, they might all be dead.
Keep pushing south.
Not like he had a choice. He had to reach Turk in South Carolina. Long-term survival depended on the men reuniting. Things might not be any better there, but as a team, they could overcome most any odds. Plus, the way Turk explained things, there were other men with similar backgrounds there. As a unit, they could repel hostiles and rebuild a community for a large number of survivors.