Affliction Z (Book 3): Descended in Blood (17 page)

Were the shots a warning? Someone trying to get his attention? Or had the intention been to kill or maim?

He caught movement in his peripheral vision. He looked back at the road. Emerging from the trees on the opposite side of the street were dozens of afflicted. Some had already climbed the short embankment and staggered through the gravel and were on the pavement.

Perhaps that was why the vehicle did not advance. They had seen the afflicted in the shadows.

A man called out, but his words were indecipherable over the sound of the engine

The afflicted stopped in the middle of the highway. They alternated glancing his direction, and toward the vehicle.

A voice inside Sean’s head called out
move!
Years of training kicked in and he acted upon the order without hesitation. For a few moments, he felt as though he had never lost his leg. After eight years, he considered himself proficient with the prosthetic. But right then he flew over branches and small bushes, cut around obstacles like a running back, and ran faster than he had in almost a decade.

He retrieved the GPS, which was still powered on. The battery indicator was no more than a sliver of red. But the rush of adrenaline had taken Sean off his heading, and he needed the device to adjust his route.

Shots tore through the gentle hum in the air. Dozens of them in a burst that lasted a couple seconds. The afflicteds’ tortured shrieks erupted in response.

For the first time, he considered that his attackers may have in fact been trying to help him.

No time to worry about that. Only option is forward.

After ten long minutes, he reached the area where he’d left the ATV. The gunshots were no longer, but the shrieks continued. At times they sounded far off, and other times he swore an afflicted was right behind him.

Sean’s stomach clenched. He’d been running nonstop in maximum humidity. He hadn’t eaten or drank near enough. He was steps away from the ATV, and he didn’t know if it remained where he had left it. If someone had come along and taken it, Sean was a dead man. The shrill screams were non-stop now.

Closer.

Surrounding him.

Boxing him in.

He had moments before the strongest of the afflicted reached him.

Sean only had so much ammunition. Not enough to take out the horde he’d seen outside the clinic. Even if he did, they would overwhelm him.

The thick bushes scratched his skin and dug into open wounds. Sean clawed through, ignoring the assault on his ravaged body. The pain held little power. He’d numbed himself to it.

And when he found the ATV sitting where he’d left it, all he felt was hope.

He fished the key from his pocket, and started the vehicle. The GPS slid onto its mount. The battery indicator flashed as it accepted the charge. Sean fumbled through the menu and reset his waypoint to the camp where Emma and the others waited.

Alone.

He hoped.

Chapter 18

The tangle of branches, brush and vines strangled the ATV. Sean cursed at every obstacle, but pushed forward, navigating around when he could, and over when he couldn’t. He’d anticipated the difficult journey. With unknown assailants around, traveling on the road was not an option. But he neared the point where he would rather take his chances with them. The woods bogged his progress. The afflicted surely had gained on him. In limited encounters, they seemed an entirely different species when shielded by a canopy. They acted more aggressive and less reliant on numbers.

Hearing their shrieks draw nearer, Sean navigated up the steep embankment onto the blacktop.

He scanned the road. Saw it to be empty aside from a random parked car toward town, and a two-car accident to the west, but a bend in the road prevented him from seeing past that. He was tempted to cut the engine and listen for a few beats.

Fear of those trailing him, and the desire to get back to his daughter pushed him forward.

A few minutes later, he veered off road to eek past a nasty pile up. Mangled bodies in various stages of decomposition were trapped inside crumpled steel coffins. A slim blood-stained arm, possibly belonging to a child, poked out from an open window.

Sean pulled back on the road. Something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He’d nearly missed the three afflicted. They stood fifty feet away from the crash, close to the trees. Their gazes were fixed elsewhere. Upward. Same as the afflicted he’d seen outside the clinic.

The hell are they looking at?

They paid Sean no attention. It was as though they didn’t register the sound of the ATV. Why? The beings he’d encountered eight years earlier were highly aware. Since the outbreak, Sean had assumed the government continued development of the virus after his initial encounter with it.

Or had they?

Maybe officials bowed out after Nigeria. The powers that be could have assumed the bombings alongside the information extracted from Turk and Sean had been enough to conclude that the virus had been wiped out. If the government had made such an error, then the only other answer was mutation. The virus lived on and slowly percolated throughout the sparsely populated areas of wild Africa, all the while morphing. It took years to achieve critical mass. But once it happened, well, all Sean had to do was look around to understand how that scenario played out.

Sean cursed himself for dwelling on what ifs. It drained him mentally, which made it harder to push forward physically. He faced a losing battle. One that could eventually claim his life and those he swore to protect.

One was already close to expiring.

Clear your mind. Focus on the objective.

Sean passed the afflicted and continued until he neared the overgrown dirt road that led to the camp where he ditched asphalt for the woods.

He took his time navigating through the woods, easing around trees and rolling over branches and small bushes, until he reached the path. He eased into the two grass-covered ruts in the earth. The ATV dipped and pitched and bounced. His prosthetic banged against the side. While the engine didn’t appear to draw the afflicted in, he had seen the way his titanium leg slapping against the steel filing cabinet sound caught their attention.

Could they detect the sound above the whine of the engine?

He cut the ignition a few hundred yards away from the camp. No sense in giving away his exact position. He shifted into neutral, hopped out, and pushed the rest of the way.

Tired, thirsty, exhausted, and hurting, Sean dug in and maneuvered the ATV up to the side of the concrete structure where Emma and the others waited.

His lips tightened as a smile crossed his face. The first since he’d last seen his daughter. But it faded as he turned the corner and saw the door standing open. Positioned so that it prevented him from seeing the entrance to the structure.

Sean fought his instincts and resisted the urge to rush forward. Instead, he dropped back, grabbed his M4 and slid it off his shoulder, pulled it around to the front. He dropped to his knee and listened.

The tops of trees bent and leaves rustled against each other as the wind blew through. He noted that the breeze had picked up in the time since he’d left the clinic. A thunderstorm approaching, he figured.

Whether the gusts drowned out other sounds, Sean didn’t know. But he heard nothing else.

He scanned the clearing, sweeping left to right, then back again. A slower second pass allowed him time to linger and look deeper into the woods. No shapes or figures stood out amid the bushes and tall trees.

Rising, the world spun and Sean leaned into the building with his shoulder to combat the lightheaded feeling. His heart pounded against his chest. It grew increasingly difficult to draw in a breath.

No panic. Not now. Get it together, man. You’re no good to anyone otherwise.

He knew better than to fight the feelings. That was the difference between those that allowed panic to cripple them, and those who conquered despite it. He pulled in as deep a breath as he could, expanding his clenched abdomen. Then, against instinct, he welcomed the sensations and gave himself permission to feel them for another fifteen seconds. And as he did so, the panic passed.

Renewed, Sean rounded the corner and approached the open door, which hadn’t budged despite the heavy winds.

“Emma,” he said in voice a few decibels above a whisper.

No response.

He called out again, this time louder.

Still no response.

He cursed under his breath and pushed forward, stopping behind the heavy door and scanning the clearing again. He counted down from three, then burst around the door and stepped into the building.

“Emma? Addie?” His voice echoed throughout the chamber, but none of the women responded.

The structure had showers on one side and bathroom stalls on the other. A wall divided the two down the middle. On either side of the wall were six or seven sinks. Sean veered to the right and checked each stall. All were empty. He continued around the divider. In the first shower stall, he found Barbara, lying on the floor, her head elevated on a branch. Blood pooled on the floor around her torso.

“Barbara,” Sean said. He waited a few moments before repeating her name. “Where are the girls?”

She said nothing and gave no indication that she had heard him. Her pale skin and lips didn’t twitch. Eyelids didn’t flutter.

Had she passed? He could see the others being disturbed by the event, and leaving because of it.

He strapped the M4 on his shoulder and slung it behind his back. The floor was dry and dirty. Mold and mildew blackened the grout between the tiles, and climbed the wall. A breeding ground for infection.

Kneeling next to Barbara, Sean placed two fingers on her neck. The light pumps to indicate a heartbeat were non-existent. After a few seconds, he adjusted his hand. Still nothing.

“Dammit, Barbara.”

He’d given up hope. But as he slid his fingers off her neck, he felt a weak pounding. She was still alive. Barely.

“Barbara, can you hear me?”

She drew in a sharp breath as though he’d roused her from a deep sleep. Her left eyelid cracked open. For a moment.

“Where are the girls? Where’s Emma?”

Scenarios raced through Sean’s mind. Someone had come along and found them. They assumed Barbara was dead and left her behind. The others they took. For what purpose? To protect? To enslave? Bait for the afflicted?

“Think, Sean,” he said, rising. The sudden movement left him lightheaded for a couple seconds.

He left the stall and walked past the other showers. He prayed he didn’t find the women in there now.

Relief and panic battled when he reached the entrance. The others were not in there, face down in a pool of their own blood. But where were they? Where had Emma gone? Had Addison convinced Emma and Jenny to leave and head west? That made no sense. On foot, the journey would take days. Weeks, maybe. And it wasn't like Sean had been gone for days, leaving them out of hope for his return. It'd only been a few hours.

The wind chilled his sweat coated his body as he stepped into the clearing. The sensation refreshed him, if only for a moment before stinging the wounds on his arms, shoulders and back.

The clearing was void of any other structures. He saw six concrete pads for parking campers and a couple tent sites. Beyond that, the darkened forest.

"Where'd you go, Em?"

The shadowy woods offered no clues. Sean walked the perimeter but picked up no trails. Without an idea of which direction Emma and the others had gone, the only safe move was stay put. They must've left for a reason, and if so they'd be back. Plus, Barbara needed immediate medical attention. And Sean welcomed that distraction.

He hurried across the clearing to the concrete building. The wind kicked up dust and dirt and other debris. It pelted his sweaty skin, sticking and creating a thin film of grime. He reached the structure and stopped at the door.

He’d heard something. Faint, and not the wind. Sean tilted his head, closed his eyes, and listened. Again, the sound broke through the white noise.

A dog barking.

Sean turned in the direction he thought it came from. Several seconds passed with nothing but silence. Then the dog called out again. Sean adjusted his stance as he honed in on the source.

His heart felt as though it skipped a beat. His stomach loosened then knotted. His hands clenched around the M4.

Three shadows appeared amid tree trunks. An animal snaked through the shadows, a few feet ahead of the people.

Sean extended the rifle but aimed it upward. He didn't want to accidentally shoot whoever approached.

Marley was the first to emerge from the woods. His ears perked as he sniffed at the air. Then he spotted Sean and darted across the clearing.

Jenny, Addison, and Emma stepped out together. Each armed with an M4. Relief swept across their faces when they spotted Sean. Emma handed her rifle to Addison, then sprinted across the clearing into her father's open arms.

“Where the hell did you guys go?” Sean said, squeezing Emma hard against his chest. When she pulled away, dirt covered half her face. He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, mixing tears and grime into a salty paste.