After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set Read online

  10.

  THE PROBLEM with conducting a search in the desert was it was so massive. Bernard could literally have stumbled in any direction to find his beloved Angie. But humans were nothing if not predictable.

  “How do you know they even went this way?” Fatty said.

  “I don’t,” Jamie said. “But this is the direction Angie went in and Bernard left the commune to find her, so I think it’s safe to assume he would have come in this direction too.”

  He recalled the straight line Angie had taken after exiting via the main front gate. She’d continue heading that way, he thought. After all, what was the point in veering off and heading in another direction in her condition? She would keep going until she couldn’t go any further. That was where they would find Bernard too.

  The sun was beginning to get hot now. Jamie could feel the sun’s rays on his bare skin. He was quick to cover it up. They’d remembered to bring their desert trekking gear. A hat with a wide brim and a small backpack that carried enough water for a day’s search. They sipped on their bottles of warm water. The sand was hard, not the kind found on a beautiful beach. It was not fine and granular, but hard and dense. Thankfully, it didn’t make walking more difficult. Jamie knew from experience how much harder the other type of sand was when walking. It was like having weights on both your legs.

  “Look,” Nester said.

  She nodded in the direction of gathering buzzards flapping at something over the next rise. A heavy stone fell in Jamie’s stomach. He began to run on unsteady legs before he was even aware of it. Nester joined him on one side. He was surprised to find Fatty had too.

  It was as they’d feared. And worse.

  They had found Bernard, and he, in turn, had found his dearly beloved. The buzzards, bodies thick and heavy, fought over chunks of meat they tore from the fallen bodies. Jamie and the other yelled as they gained on the birds. Jamie drew his axe and swung at them. Fatty drew to a stop, nocked an arrow and let loose. It was a warning shot, Jamie knew. Fatty wouldn’t have missed from that distance if he really wanted to hit something.

  The buzzards were bullheaded birds, and ungainly as they pumped their powerful wings and took flight. Jamie and Nester swung at the birds. Nester’s heavy sword struck one of the lumbering beasts with a heavy thud. The creature did not go down. It only screeched and pulled back, taking off into the sky.

  Black feathers decorated the scene like a parade had passed through. The two bodies lay side by side. Jamie fell to his knees. A thick gash yawned wide in Angie’s neck, her blood stamped and trampled on by large ungainly feet, the blood harsh against the white flat surface. Nester and Fatty kept their eyes upward, watching for an attack that might fall upon them at any moment. Bernard lay with his hand reaching for Angie’s. No doubt they’d been holding hands during the final few moments. Bernard still held his knife in his offhand. His eyes had been pecked out.

  “This didn’t need to happen,” Jamie said.

  “What do you want to do with them?” Nester said.

  Jamie didn’t know. He hadn’t planned that far ahead. He’d wanted to find Bernard and take him back to Mountain’s Peak. But there was no way they could carry them back. And to leave them to the buzzards. . . It left him with a heavy rock in the pit of his stomach. The ground was hard, solid, and they had no tools for digging. Perhaps he could stay there and one—or both—of the others could head back to get help.

  A shout.

  A voice, carried by the thin wind over the vast flat expanse. Jamie looked up but couldn’t identify the speaker.

  “Can you hear that?” Jamie said.

  Nester shushed him to silence as she leaned into the wind, listening. It came again. This time, the word was clear. Help.

  “Someone’s out there,” she said.

  “What about Angie and Bernard?” Fatty said.

  “They’re dead,” Jamie said.

  And with any luck, they would stay that way. They took off at a run toward the mysterious voice.

  11.

  “THE SOUTH gate was closed, but not locked,” Donny said. “They must have snuck out in the middle of the night while we were locking the place down.”

  “He could have let in precisely what we were trying to keep out,” Donald said through gritted teeth.

  “I think he would have taken the proper precautions,” Donny said. “He can be headstrong, but he’s not an idiot.”

  “He ran off into the desert with a couple of his friends.” Donald’s eyes were burning pits. “That doesn’t sound like the actions of an idiot to you?”

  He turned to look out at the desert. In the direction his son had gone, where Angie had gone.

  “He knows better than to go out there,” he said.

  “Obviously not,” Donny said. “Look, you can be as angry as you like with him when he gets back, but we have to make sure he does get back.”

  “No,” Donald said. “He chose to leave. I won’t endanger more lives in rescuing him.”

  Donny was surprised by what he was hearing. “He’s your son. My brother.”

  “He’s one of my sons,” Donald said.

  By the harsh, dark rage in his eyes, Donny knew he wasn’t referring only to his sons by blood. He was referring to the entire community. They were a family in all the ways that mattered.

  “Then let me go look for him,” Donny said. “Let me do what a good brother should do.”

  “I can’t lose you both,” Donald said.

  “You won’t need to lose either of us if you let me go out there,” Donny said. “You don’t need to risk anyone else’s life. I’ll go by myself.”

  “No,” Donald said. “He made his decision. And I’m making yours for you. You will not go out there to look for Jamie. Do you understand?”

  Donny’s jaw muscles tightened. He didn’t much like being told what to do. He’d inherited his father’s strong sense of duty and honour. In that regard, Jamie was more of a free spirit like their mother.

  “Donny,” Donald said. “I need to hear you say it. Promise me.”

  Donny didn’t like it but his father was right. These were the commune’s rules. They couldn’t break them just because it was his brother who had decided to do something foolish. Give up on those rules now and the fragile little ecosystem they’d created might destroy itself.

  “I promise,” Donny said. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

  “Good lad,” Donald said.

  Under any other situation, he would have felt proud of his boy. But he was too concerned and worried about the fate of his youngest son. Fool child.

  12.

  FOOLISH THEY might be, but suicidal they most certainly were not as they slithered across the sand dunes on their elbows and peered over the side at the scene below.

  There were Rages. Three of them. They crowded around the only visible tree in the desert. It might be the only tree for ten miles—the nearest being the thick forest on the other side of the commune. They possessed the same angry temperament, eyes red, skin blistered and burnt. None had full use of their limbs. Only one wore any clothes. They were torn and bloodied, stained with someone’s blood.

  Their hands were curled and angry like the talons of a large beast. Their faces were scowling masks, cast upward at the boughs of a small tree. They swiped and tore at the tree’s bark, hissing through ruined throats.

  Hanging onto the thickest branch, still no thicker than Jamie’s arm, was a small figure clad head to foot in white. A girl. She screamed and cried, whimpering like the child she was.

  Jamie made to stand. Nester grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed.

  “I’m going to help her,” Jamie said.

  “Use your eyes!” Nester said. “Can’t you see what we’re seeing? There are Rages down there.”

  “She’s never going to get away from there by herself,” Jamie said.

  “You’d prefer to let the Rages eat you?” Nester said.
“In case you didn’t realize, we’re very much on the ground here. So, unless your plan includes us getting eaten, I suggest you stay down before they see you.”

  When Nester was right, she was right. Damn those sexy lips.

  “Fine,” Jamie said. “But that branch isn’t going to last forever.”

  Neither would the trunk. It was no thicker than Jamie’s father’s legs. Big for a man, but tiny for a tree, and the undead beasts were hacking at it like lumberjacks. Jamie had seen them cut through far larger trees than this one before. The thing about Rages was they would never stop. They didn’t even know the meaning of the word. They would keep going until they were either killed (again) or got what they were after.

  “Fatty, can you shoot them from here?” Jamie said.

  Fatty shook his head vehemently.

  “Are you sure?” Jamie said.

  He knew Fatty hadn’t even checked. At Jamie’s insistence, Fatty glanced over the side and appraised the distance. He hesitated before he shook his head this time. That meant he could hit the targets. But kill them? Who knows.

  “Take them out, one by one,” Jamie said.

  Fatty shook his head.

  “You can do this,” Jamie said. “Just focus.”

  Fatty gathered his meagre store of courage and took his bow off his back. He nocked an arrow. He took calm, deep breaths to relax.

  “Wait,” Nester said. “Where are you going?”

  Jamie was on his feet, turning to leave.

  “I’m going to sneak in behind the tree and get the girl,” he said.

  “You’re going to leave us here?” Fatty was terrified. Any bravery he’d amassed was leaking fast. “Some teamwork, that is.”

  Nester’s eyes narrowed. “You’re using us as bait.”

  “We’re strong and healthy,” Jamie said. “Those things aren’t. A few shots to the head and it’s game over.”

  “You could say the same for us—” Nester said.

  Jamie pressed his lips against hers. She was surprised, shocked, and began to move away, but Jamie was ready for her. He wound his hand in her hair on the back of her neck, drawing her in close. When they parted, they both had a little smile on their face.

  “You’re getting better already,” Nester said.

  They turned to find Fatty staring at them with a look of abject horror. You might have thought Jamie had made out with a Rage. Jamie turned and edged around the rise.

  13.

  “SO,” FATTY SAID. “How long have you two been an item?”

  “An item?” Nester said. “We’re not an item.”

  “You looked pretty comfortable kissing,” Fatty said. “I don’t believe it’s the first time you’ve done it.”

  “What concern is it of yours?” Nester said shortly.

  “Jamie’s my friend,” Fatty said.

  “And I’m not?” Nester said.

  “You are,” Fatty said, though he didn’t sound as certain about that. “But, you know, we’ve never been that close.”

  Nester frowned. “We’re not? Fatty, you hurt my feelings.”

  “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Fatty said. “Jamie’s always been between us.”

  “I’m happy to share him,” Nester said. “I just want his lips. You can have the rest of him.” She arched an eyebrow. “Unless you want his lips too?”

  “You’re sick,” Fatty said.

  But he was a little confused. Was it normal for a guy to feel the way he did about Jamie? He didn’t feel that way with him, did he? He shook his head. No. No, of course not.

  “It’s okay,” Nester said. “You’re his best friend. I know that. So, let’s try to get along with each other. For Jamie’s sake. He doesn’t need to lose either of us.”

  Fatty pursed his lips. He was going to make the same suggestion. He didn’t much like the fact it’d been her who’d voiced it first.

  “Looks like he’s in position now,” Nester said, spotting the hand waving above another short rise to the right of the tree.

  “Just try not to put an arrow in my back,” Nester said.

  “Why not?” Fatty said under his breath. “You put your blade in mine.”

  14.

  JAMIE LOWERED his hand from having waved at his compatriots and peered over the side. He was directly perpendicular to the tree.

  One of the Rages had its back to him. The other two were on the far side. The tree was shaking, weakening by the minute. It was a lot more fragile than Jamie had thought. He hoped their plan would work. He tucked his axe away and got into his imaginary starting blocks. He’d need to run as fast as he could.

  There was a whistling sound, familiar to his ears now after all these years, followed by a clear tearing sound like a knife stabbed through a sheet of paper. Peering over the side confirmed what he knew he would see. Fatty nocked another arrow and took aim. He released it. It struck a Rage in the chest and came out the other side, making no connection with the creature’s withered insides. These monsters were dry and old. There was little remaining of the juicy organs an uninfected had.

  Nester stood before Fatty, sword drawn back to make sweeping movements, to cut the Rages’ legs out from under them. Two of the creatures had turned, having been shot. They spotted the two figures opening fire on them, not thirty yards distant. They moaned and leaned over, arms swaying, letting their own bodyweight—what remained of it—carry them forward in loping strides. The third creature was slower to react and only turned to see Nester and Fatty after his comrades had spotted them. He pivoted from the tree and began his own gravity-defying march.

  Jamie was off. Perhaps a little too early, but every second he wasted would put his friends in danger. He met the tree within five seconds.

  “Hey!” Jamie hissed to the figure clutching the branch with her arms and legs. “Hey! You!”

  The girl opened her eyes—they’d formerly been clenched shut—and peered down at him. Jamie checked over his shoulder. The figures were still loping forward, toward his friends. Close, but not engaged hand-to-hand yet.

  “You need to get down!” Jamie said. “Quick!”

  The girl’s head, slow and lethargic, moved from Jamie to the figures on the other side of the clearing. She squinted to see them. Jamie wondered how long she’d been in the desert, lost and chased by Rages. It was a factor he hadn’t given much thought to. What if she was too weak to carry herself? Could they still outrun the creatures? The girl was dead without them anyway, so they ought to at least try. The girl still hadn’t stirred a muscle, eyes fluttering open and closed, drifting in and out of consciousness.

  If she wasn’t going to come down, he’d have to go up. Jamie reached for the lowest branch and put his foot on the deep gouge marks scratched into the tree’s bark by the Rages’ attack. He pushed himself up. It was harder than he expected. How the girl managed to get up there by herself, he didn’t know. Desperation could be a powerful motivator. He rested his knee on the bottom branch and reached up. The girl was right there.

  Nester yelled in her distinctive style, hurling her sword around with all her strength. She didn’t need to rely on skills when it came to Rages. Only brute strength. She swung the sword around, striking the Rage’s leg. Its momentum pushed it forward as it swiped with its claws as Nester. She threw herself to one side, rolling and coming up on her feet.

  The Rage was already on her, limping on the leg Nester had chipped. The bone was surprisingly strong. This Rage clearly hadn’t been dead for long. A short whistle, then a smack as Fatty’s arrow took the Rage in the neck. Fatty was usually a better shot than this—but that was against targets that weren’t animated.

  With no time to lose, Jamie grabbed the girl’s arms, unwound them from the limb and pulled. The girl didn’t even react when her body lost its grip and fell from the branch. Jamie brightened his grip. She was heavier than Jamie expected, almost succeeding in taking him over the side with her.

  His chest smacked against the l
ower branch. It creaked beneath their combined weight as Jamie brought the girl around. He lowered her to the ground, his arms shaking, struggling as he placed her down gently. Head first, then her chest and, unable to lower her all the way, her legs smacked the ground hard.

  Sweat dripped and ran down his face. Black spots clogged up his vision. Any exertion in this heat exhausted the body beyond measure. Weakened, Jamie lost his grip on the branch and fell the remaining four feet in a heap.

  The girl was out of the tree.

  Exhausted as he was, fighting for breath, he didn’t hear the Rage already fast converging on his position.

  15.

  NESTER THREW everything she had into each blow, aiming low to hack the creature’s legs. Take them out, and the creature would be forced to drag itself along the desert floor. It would be a whole lot slower and easier to kill then. But these creatures were fast, and it was difficult to deliver a blow without putting herself directly within range of their clawed fingers and snapping jaws.

  Fatty unloaded into the beasts whenever they got too close. They were always too close, in her opinion. She was constantly moving backward. They both stood on the crest of the rise, the two creatures scaling up it and tripping.

  And then Nester realized. Two? Weren’t there three of these things?

  The glanced up and the blood froze in her veins. The third Rage. At some point, it’d got distracted by the action going on behind it. It’d turned and closed on Jamie’s position. He was still in the process of lowering the girl to the ground before falling from the tree himself.

  “Fatty!” Nester shouted.

  She couldn’t point. She was busy wielding her sword, bringing it around again for another wide sweeping blow.

  “Jamie!” she shouted.

  16.