The Surviving Son (Valkyrie Book 2) (20 page)

I had dozed off for mere moments throughout the night, lost
somewhere between the dreamscape and reality, fear tapping my
shoulder with every infinitesimal snore that escaped my airways.
Abel and Steph fell asleep immediately after dinner, and I did my
best to keep watch during the cloud-cloaked night. With all that was
on my mind, it was the hope of rain that held strong, its cooling
plummet upon a parched landscape would be a small gift to an
imminent and unforgiving day.

Sounds of the unknown seemed to close in on us somewhere
past midnight, and in my mind I tried to convince myself that it was
just raccoons, opossum, or even owl’s fluttering from tree to tree.
But my overzealous imagination threw me a dreadful display of
murderous villains, or an army of the dead. Out-gunned,
outnumbered, and exhausted, we were unmatched in every aspect
except for stealth. Our presence was for the moment was unknown,
but upon the onset of the suns blaze, and darkness fades to light,
perceptions will change.

“What’s that?” The boy said, I
had never even noticed him sit
up from his slumber.
“What?” I whispered.
“Over there, through the trees.”
Peering through the pitch black, scanning the dense woodlands
fervently until off in the distance I spotted an insignificant flicker of
light. Slowly I stood from my dusty earthen bed in an attempt to get
a better look, but instead my view was further obscured by the low
hanging canopy. The forest was still alive with the same, shadowy
noises as before, but the lack of silence could only mean that I was
not hearing nocturnal critters, but something more formidable.
“Wait here.” I demanded as Steph awakened to our commotion.
Snatching up my pistol I cautiously stepped through the brush
and into the arid timber, each footstep brought a resonating crackle
that halted my advance, but ignoring the fear and holding my breath,
I continued with one step ever so slowly. The inches seemed like
miles, and my stomach tensed and bubbled nervously. I do not recall
for how long or how far I ventured before the light reappeared. First,
just as a slight twinkle, but as I moved closer the dancing light came
into full view. A camp fire, around it eight or so men, heavily
intoxicated and sufficiently armed.
Together they howled with curses and jesting comradery,
followed by drunken laughter. They appeared to be swapping
stories, although I could not hear them clearly, yet I assume they
barbarically spoke on each of their own transgressions as if they
were proud and noble Spartan’s of the past. I hesitated to turn back,
my proximity to them was too close for comfort, and it was a miracle
they had not heard my approach.
“They’re coming.” Abel’s voice whispered from the darkness.
I turned to find his silhouette just behind me, although his lack of
obedience was irritating, yet his soundless approach was something
to marvel at. Immediately I gestured for him to be quiet and moved
back, out of earshot of the drunken criminals, and towards the road.
Grasping tight to the boy’s arm as if to show him some form of
parental guidance.
“They’re coming.” The boy repeated as we stepped back onto
the weather beaten path.
“What’s going on?” Steph questioned upon our return, but I
ignored her inquiry and knelt down before Abel.
“Who?” I asked.
“The dead!” He exclaimed as he pointed back up hill behind us.
A faint sapphire and fuchsia haze had just barely broke over the
eastern mountains, casting just enough morning light to turn
complete darkness into a myriad of shadows. Descending the steep
roadway was the unmistakable silhouette of a lumbering horde,
although I could only make out those not under the cover of the
forest, but estimate the entire drove was a thousand strong and quite
possibly much more. I was taken aback, flabbergasted, frozen in my
own fear. It was the largest gathering of Necrotics I had seen in
years. A lost mob, dormant in the thick forests, until awakened once
again by the sounds of man’s violent greed.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed.
Outrunning them, from this distance, would be of no concern.
But we would be running straight into a reawakening battle for
which there are many fronts and no real objective. Dodging the
cross-fire or navigating the dead were the only options before us.
We needed a distraction, something to push the militia’s away and
slow the advancing dead while we made for Rangeley. What we
needed was our own army, a force stronger than those ahead of us,
a force that cannot be defeated by the weapons of man, a force with
no control except for its own mindless will.
“RUN!”
My voice rung out like a fire-alarm, and with good cause, as I
pulled an emergency flare-gun from my pack and without thought I
aimed into the brush and yanked back the trigger. With a loud pop,
a fiery ball of red blasted into the dried tinder, and as we dove into
the forest the ground cover lit up like a beacon and within seconds
the highly combustible evergreens were engulfed. Not looking back,
we rushed through the forest, skipping out an around the enemies
camp while and indiscriminate firestorm mounted an onslaught over
the parched landscape.
Mistaking firelight for the gleam of dawn, those nameless
warriors answered a new day as gunfire echoed throughout the forest
and their petty cause recommenced. Oblivious to the approaching
flames and uninformed of the unstoppable horde, their war waged
in defiance of moral balance. Screams arose soon after as carcass
and flame became a marching pyre and breached their perimeters.
The three of us continued to tear through the forest, covering as
much ground as possible and widening the gap with every leap and
bound. Even as the winds shifted and the landscape filled with
smoke we did not halter our steps.
As the sun’s rays breached the mountains and bled through the
thick soot, other detachments began their own fire-fight and we
could feel the breeze of the bullets as they blazed past us with no
intended target. They were firing wastefully and blind, but we
pushed hard, ignoring the sting of splintering trees and the pelting
of airborne dirt and stone. Steph, braver than I had ever presumed,
kept pace with tears and all. She was now one of us, just like those
who pulled through The Great Outbreak, she had been thrusted into
chaos and was officially a survivor… For now.
The natural order of the wilderness had eroded away into
anarchy and death, so much that running through the crossfire was
predictably ill-fated. Snatching up both Steph and Abel’s arms, I
dragged them down into a damp moss-covered dell and pushed them
to the ground while holding their heads firmly below the line of fire.
My hope was that the feuding sects would move past us, or pause
briefly enough for us to make another dash. But dawn’s lights was
gaining strength, as was the infernos pursuit and a meaningless
crusade. All for what? Claim to these lands, to anything or anyone
they set eyes on. Or is this simply for the glory of the kill, barbarism
at its finest. Mankind, throughout all of time, has basked in both
animosity and bloodshed.
As we kept our heads down and waited, time seemed to slow,
but soon, far of in the distance a rumble approached. The repetitive
and thunderous thumps grew fast, a sure and unmistakable sound of
our rescue party. Three birds to be exact, approaching swiftly and
with purpose. The fighters amongst the forest soon turned their
attention towards our transports, ignoring the crackling echoes
approaching from behind them. Quietly I signaled that it was time
to move, and neither Abel nor Steph protested as we stood for
another rush towards our objective.
“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!” A voice called out over the
distance gunfire before any of us could take the first step.
Just above us stood a large burly man carrying a heavy assault
shotgun, pointed directly at my head. I reached for the pistol, only
to hear the cranking of a rifles charging handle. Glancing behind I
found two more men, armed and staring at us with a murderous
gleam in their eyes. Slowly I raised my hands in submission,
nodding to the others to do the same.
“We found em, boys!” Cried the burly man.
“I don’t know who you think you found, but you’re mistaken.”
I stuttered. Their leader stepped forward, grabbing Abel by the chin
and looking into his eyes.
“By the looks of this lil fellar, you’re who we come for.” He
chuckled, then threw one of the other men a delighted glare. “Get on
the radio, private, we need evac, ASAP.”
His demeanor and tone, the words he used to command his men
all turned my attention to their attire. Not the raggedy and blood
stained fabric of lawless raiders, but full camo battle-dress, military
issued boots and a combat helmet secured tightly upon their heads.
But, these were not GFS Soldiers, their uniforms did not carry our
insignia, but instead a crudely stitched Red, White, and Blue Maple
Leaf.
“Canadian Military?” I asked, but the commander merely
snickered at me. “Who are you then?”
“I am Sargent Malcolm Harris of the Northern Alliance.”
“Northern Alliance?” I received no further information.
“Sargent Harris, I am Patrick Zi…”
“We know who you are, Mr. President, but you have no
authority here. These lands have been annexed in the name of
Chancellor Fredrickson, and from here on out you will hold your
breath, sir.”
As I held my head low it dawned on me, the radio, they must
have overheard my transmission back at the tower, it never occurred
to me that others might be listening in. This entire campaign, all of
this death, was not about greed and territory, but about the boy. It
was a battle for the cure. A battle for power and control. But who
were they fighting? Raiders alone wouldn’t stand a chance. No,
there was another force skulking through these forests, and I dreaded
a direct clash between the two.
I tried not to smile as the sound of one chopper slowly
descended towards Rangeley until its engine quickly wound down
to a stop. The other two continued to circle, releasing a volley of
fifty caliber rounds down into the forest below along with the
occasional scream of hell-fire missiles. Aside from the armed
conflict, and the blaze that approached, there were no signs of the
dead and the Prowler’s appeared to have vacated the area.
“Sargent, they’re on route, thirty minutes.” The private barked.
“Now we wait.” Muttered Harris.

An hour had passed, and still no sign of their comrades, yet
throughout the mountain landscape the battle continued to wage.
The choppers assaults faded not too long ago, I assume their fuel
had been used up and they made their way back to base. And, there
has been so sign of our own rescue team, but I prayed that they find
us soon. The fire is closing in, enough that its thunderous blaze could
be heard clearly, but thankfully the ever changing winds have
slowed its destruction.

However, the effects of the inferno have not gone unnoticed,
and not long after the radioman’s transmission a few Necrotic’s
wander passed our position, blistered and scorched, smoke still
billowing from their bodies. They were quietly put down, but more
are sure to come, many more. We were in the center of a battle-field
that stretched between two mountains and from Rangeley all the
way to Stratton. It was an engagement that will forever scar this
landscape, and we were held captive at its heart.

Our captors were becoming agitated by the minute, knowing
full well that their rescue may have been compromised, and that the
dead have now joined this fight. Even if the GFS finds us, it is highly
unlikely that we will ever get back to the chopper. The unnerving
sounds of hell has only intensified, and somewhere, someone out
their holds the keys to weapons that can finish this battle at any
moment. Weapons that can turn this mountain into a pile of dusty
rubble.

“Your commander has abandoned you.”
I finally spoke up.
“Quiet! They will be here!” The brawny leader lashed out.
“And if they do show up, what is the plan? Are we to just waltz

out of here
? We are surrounded by both the living and the dead.”
“Shut up or I’ll cut your tongue out!” Another man cried.
“You won’t survive. None of you will.” Abel said meekly.

“You best keep quiet boy.” He chuckled coldly. “
My orders are
to bring you back - dead or alive.” He released the boy and stared
down out Steph as she cowered beside me.“I think I’ll claim you as
my bride.” A Hoarse chuckle escaped his airways. “The spoils of
war, am I right boys?” He called out and the others chuckled
perversely.

Abel instantly became enraged and swung his leg forward
striking the man in the groin like a freight train, dropping him to his
knees as he clutched his privates in agony. Abruptly the Sargent lost
his lunch, choking on his own bile and gasping for air. The boy
giggled in satisfaction as the others raised their rifles at us, waiting
for their leader to regain his dignity.

“
Taylor!” He called out as he rose back onto his feet. “Drop his
drawers, he is all yours.”
“With pleasure, sir.” A scrawny unshaven man stepped
forward, loosening his belt as he laid his rifle down.
“The boy is infected.” I spoke up. “Rape him and you will
become a walking corpse.”
“The boy is the cure.” Stammered Harris. “Go ahead Taylor,
it’s all good.” But Taylor hesitated.
“There is no cure.” I said, raising my voice. “The boy is a
carrier, immune to the disease, but he can still transmit it.”
“Look at his eyes, sir.” Steph stuttered.
“I’m not taking a chance.” Taylor muttered.
“Fucking cowards.” The large man said, pushing Taylor aside.
“I’ll teach theboy myself.”
With a fierce grip he pushed Abel down to his knees, bending
him over with his head held firmly into the moss covered earth. The
boydidn’t squirm, didn’t fight, instead his eyes met mine and a large
grin spread quickly spread across his face. I have personally seen
the boy’s strength, breaking free of the foul man’s grip should be
well within his capabilities. But, even as the man lowered his dingy
pants, the boy continued to smile at me, like a lunatic enjoying his
own torture.
“THEY’RE COMING!” One of the other men cried out.
The pederast never had the chance to address their cries before
the smell of burnt rotten flesh filled our noses and the brush quickly
pushed aside as a smoldering horde breached our position. The
others opened fire as their leader struggled to pull up his pants and
grab a rifle, but he was not fast enough. A single corpse stumbled
into the area just behind him, quickly plunging its teeth deep into
the Sergeant’s neck.
“Run!” Cried the boy as he grabbed Steph’s hand and dragged
her up the mountain, and I stumbled to follow. We only climbed a
few hundred feet before we were stopped abruptly by six more fully
armed men who immediately opened fire on the horde behind us.
Without thinking I tackled Steph and the boy to the ground, once
again holding their heads down and out of the way. He struggled at
first, tried to get away, but I held tight and hollered into his ear.
“STAY DOWN! THEY’RE WITH US!”
The insignia on their uniforms, the dual gold eagles, was the
sign of hope I had been searching for. GFS Marines, the baddest of
bad-asses, pummeled the dead with a volley of rounds. Instant head
shots, no misses, pure and perfect annihilation. Within seconds the
detachment of fifty or so Infected had been laid to rest. And almost
as fast, the two remaining insurgents dropped their weapons and
raised their hands high in surrender.
“Mr. President!” A familiar voice called out.
“Ash?” I said as I rose to my feet. “What the hell are you doing
here?” I asked sternly as he stepped forward and embraced me
firmly.
“I told you, I’m a soldier, not a leader.” He retorted.
“What about…”
“They’re in good hands, I transitioned power over to the
council, like you wanted.”
“It’s good to see you old friend.”
“As is you.” He said, lighting up a fat cigar with a smile. “Our
escorts should be back any moment, we need to the chopper.”
“How far?” I asked.
“If we move now we can make by dark. We met minor
opposition in Rangeley but should be no trouble now.”
“The children?” Steph asked.
“Therewere no children, but asmall outpost of raiders. They’ve
been dealt with.”
“Theymight be hiding!” Steph exclaimed. “We have to look for
them!”
“Look,” Ash interrupted. “We can do a quick sweep on the way,
but our priority is to extract the three of you. The children may have
to fend for themselves.”
“We’ll come back for them.” I said, rubbing her shoulder. “I
promise.”
“Always the humanitarian.” Ash chuckled. “Shall we leave
them here or take em with us?” He asked, pointing at the remaining
Northern Alliance soldiers. I threw him a sinful glare.
“Kill them.”
He did not question me, the men waived their hands in protest,
but no words were able to escape their lips before a round exploded
through each of their heads and they tumbled to the forest floor.
Ash’s men quickly searched the bodies for weapons and ammo
before turning back to follow us. My good friend gracefully puffed
away at his cigar, smiling in satisfaction.
“T.N.A.” Ash muttered.
“What?”
“The Northern Alliance.” He said with a airy cough. “Former
American and Canadian soldiers, mere sheep, following the empty
promises of a greedy dictator.”
“Those sheep have some powerful artillery.” I mentioned.
“They detonated a thermobaric weapon just east of here.”
“Not them.” He said. “An unknown army has made its way
north from Boston, no insignia’s and they take no prisoners nor do
they follow any means of diplomacy. We caught wind of them a
couple weeks ago, and it appears they have obtained some nasty
armaments. We are in a midst of a true war, both sides together are
estimated to be six thousand strong spread throughout New
England.”
“What do they want?” I asked.
“Power, the boy, and the dissolution of the GFS, among other
things.” He said with a chuckle. “No worries though, our apache’s
pushed them south, but not for long. Their backs are against the
flames. Your handy work?” He asked, but I didn’t answer.
“Maybe the GFS is just a pipe dream.” I said coldly.
“Like I’ve always said, man cannot be tamed.”
“It seemed like we were so close though.”
“We still are, but to complete our mission, we must seek out
and eradicate those who refuse to evolve.”
“Genocide.” I said in sorrow.
“Necessary Genocide.” Ash retorted. “But that’s neither here
nor there, let’s keep moving.”