Beyond Death (Book 2): Apocalypse
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher.
*** Be sure to sign up for my newsletter to receive advance notice of new releases and access to the street team. You’ll only receive emails when I have a new release, a book special or something very important to share with you.
Get Access to the Newsletter
or visit www.silascooper.com
Copyright © 2014 Silas Cooper
Table of Contents
Clutching her hand, Chase looked into the young woman’s eyes. Even with dirt on her face, her beauty prevailed. Her hands in his appeared small and grimy, traces of a once perfect manicure showed through. He closed his eyes to the fall of night out the window behind her, and he imagined her as she must have been.
Even as he lost himself in the sight of her in a white dress, a smile on her face, he heard footsteps. A cool dose of reality, he pulled her to him. One hand still holding onto hers, he used his other arm around her back to guide her along with him. He slid her along the wall, boxing her in as they went in a direction away from whoever lurked.
The footsteps gained speed. Each fall of a boot on the tile echoed. Her breath in his ear grew heavier. He stopped them behind the wall that led down the next corridor. With his hand over her soft mouth, he waited. She trembled from time to time, but he remained stable, solid. Just a few more steps, he knew, and he’d have to release her to save her.
With a nod her way, he untangled himself from her body. Taking a second to make sure she stayed silent with the motion of one finger to his lips, he then turned his back on her. A deep breath in, he jumped out from around the wall. As the guard’s body slammed into his, he took hold of his neck and twisted. The brute force of the act, along with the snap of the guy’s spine, rippled through Chase. Back to a full military man, one with the mind of war, he puffed up, and grabbed the girl.
Frozen, she stumbled when he tugged on her arm to propel her forward with him. Her hands clutching his shirt, she righted herself and adjusted her pace to his. He granted her a smile, as again he guarded her with his body. Up to a brisk run, Chase heard a commotion behind them and then footsteps again. Lots of footsteps.
Turning, they took another hall. Ears tuned into what occurred behind him, he found himself ambushed around the next turn. The guard went for the woman. Grabbing her by her hair, he yanked her away from Chase. Her hand still in his, Chase used his free hand to smash the guards head against the wall. Distraction could end a guy these days. Thankfully, Chase had the woman at his side. The uniformed man fell into a heap, but not before the woman screeched. As the body landed, he noticed the guard’s fingers still held a clump of her hair.
Looking her way, she held the back of her head. Without thought, he scooped her up and ran out a door marked with a bright red exit sign. Outside the compound, the green grass waved lightly with the breeze. The sun shone warm. His recent activities made the slight chill to the mid-sixty degree air feel good. From his arrival here, he knew that a fence wove in and out of the tree line, keeping them in as much as it kept everything else out.
Setting her back down on her feet, he moved them along the building as his brain searched for a plan. Step after step, he checked on her and came up with nothing. The door they’d exited opened, and a large man stepped out. To Chase he looked formidable as he scanned his surroundings. If he’d known him to be the same man who’d brutally killed Dr. Benton, he’d have known just how much of an opponent the guy could be. He stopped only once vast amounts of blood had spilled.
“Stop!” the man yelled when he spotted them.
Chase looked at the weapon the man raised, knowing even at their distance, they could be hit. He zigged around a standing tank. He pulled the woman along with him. Safely hidden, he yanked her to his chest. She trembled against him. Her breathing frantic, his only source of soothing came by wrapping his arms around her.
“I said, stop!” the guy half screamed, half growled.
Moving them as one unit now, Chase zagged behind another vehicle. Rolling their bodies along the back, he paused to look both ways, and stepped behind another Humvee. He used the small parking lot of large vehicles to his advantage. At least, he’d thought. With each step, he heard the man in dark fatigues move too.
When he came to a shed of sorts, a long metal outbuilding, he stepped out to walk behind it. The military man, stepped out at the opposite end. Firearm raised at them, Chase jumped to the side of the shed, bringing her with him. With this woman in his arms, protected, he rolled them on the ground. Stopping where the short side of the building ended, he heard her gasp.
He gave her a once over before he heard the scrapping and shuffling. Looking behind the shed, his body began to shake as well. He turned to the arrival of the military guy. Gun raised, even he seemed frozen a second. Chase, along with the others he was sure, did a short assessment of the danger. On the other hand, the massive group of zombies headed for the trio merely moved in an unsteady unison their way.
A Month Earlier
Chase raced down the road in the van. Lucas sat beside him fiddling with the radio to find something other than static. Jayda and Sherri talked in nervous whispers behind them as Dax and Richard sat in a grumpy silence in the farthest row of seats.
A voice broke the silence in the front. Chase glanced at Lucas with his eyebrows raised and a grimace of sorts. He shook his head at the boy, the best praise he could muster on almost no sleep and one harried situation after another for the past few days. His ex-wife and her husband in the van both improved and soured his mood simultaneously.
The crackle of the voice interrupted by static as Lucas jiggled the knob on the ancient van made him roll his head, stretch, and crack his tight neck muscles. The women fell into silence. Each of them hung on the broken words, hungry for some good news.
“I don’t think we are dealing with meningitis, at least not as we know it, anymore,” the man’s voice rang tired from the speakers. “All reports paint a dismal picture. As the nation, us included, take shelter, we pray for an end to this horrible disease that turns our friends and loved ones into crazed monsters. I know here at the station, our meager supplies are running low. There have been murmurs of relief vehicles, military, coming around with supplies. If you are in your house, they are asking you remain there. Post a sign in your window to let them know that living people are inside and in need.
“Do not go out under any circumstances. Stay off the roads…” the station crackled again.
Lucas grumbled something under his breath, and fiddled with the knob again.
“Hey, at least we are getting something. Driving here, I was starting to feel like the last men on earth. All we see are the dead walking. We’re hungry. We’re tired. We need help,” Chase stuttered over the words.
He shook his head and blinked a few times as the radio came back to life.
“We’ve gotten reports back about some of the first cases of this still, so-called meningitis outbreak. Although, oddly, the nurses at the Boston hospital can’t find the doctor who was treating the first cases. A Dr. Kenneth Benton was said to have met with the CDC in the hospital. After he’d left with the man from the CDC flanked by two military guards, the nurses at the hospital report finding what they think is patient zero, a female college student, dead. Stabbed to death through the skull…” the reporter droned on.
“I’m sure she came back to life and the military men had no choice but to stab her. Of course that wouldn’t make for as good a story, now would it?” Chase grumbled.
“I think he’s alive and working for the CDC,” Lucas exclaims.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Chase agreed. “He’s probably in some cushy facility working around the clock to help with the cure for this disease. As soon as we meet up with Daniel, he should be able to tell us more. Maybe we will get the chance to work along with your brother. I just pray that what we have is the icing on the cake to what they have so we can end this outbreak, and start the long road to healing America.”
“The military are still cautioning everyone on contact with anyone who shows signs of the illness. It is highly contagious. Lock them in a room separate from you if anyone shows signs. The disease moves quickly, killing the victim within twenty-four hours. What happens after is unexplainable, but even more dangerous,” the reporter continued.
“Give that guy some caffeine, already,” Chase huffed.
“We are getting reports from international reporters now that multiple cases of this disease have been found in almost every country in the world. The disease, its spread, and the outcome are unprecedented. Some religious leaders are joining together with murmurs of the apocalypse,” the guy spouted. His voice had gotten louder with each word.
“I don’t think that those who regulate the news are alive anymore to censor these guys,” Lucas joked. “Just so relieved to hear that my brother left with the right men.”
“I bet. And we’ll be safe soon too. Once we reach the checkpoint and then the base, we can all shower and eat and sleep, and then get to work on ending this thing,” Chase sighed.
“Sleep,” Lucas sighed.
“Food,” Jayda piped in.
“I’ll take the shower,” Sherri added in a dreamy voice.
“So much to do,” Chase added.
The women went back to chatting among themselves. A quick check in the rear-view mirror showed the men in the back remained unaffected by it all. Richard’s stone-cold glare in his direction sent a sliver of ice through his veins. He felt for poor Dax, but the guy just looked tired and uncaring.
“So, tell me about how you know this guy we’re meeting,” Lucas said with a yawn.
“Trying to keep the old guy driving awake, I see,” Chase laughed. “Much appreciated. Daniel and I go way back to the special unit I served on. We served different roles, but we hit it off quick. We hung out whenever we got the chance for a break. Just one of those guys, you know. Someone who comes into your life at just the right time and lends his friendship and support—” Chase left off when he caught Jayda staring at him.
The faraway look of sadness in her eyes stopped him cold. Despite the daylight warming up the van, he shivered. His heart beat in double time. Gladly, he refocused his attention back to the road before he let the guilt swallow him alive.
“What?” Lucas snapped.
Chase glanced his way and followed the boy’s stone-cold glare to Sherri. In his rear-view mirror, he saw Sherri smile. Lucas huffed and turned to look out his window. From the peanut gallery just behind him he heard school girl giggles and he swore the word cute. Obviously Sherri’s grief mixed with lack of sleep had turned her young again. But he knew there was no accounting for how people dealt with grief and stress.
He glanced back to the road, spotting a stray zombie walking between the cars. He noticed that it seemed to move slower than the others they’d encountered. He wondered if it was because he didn’t have anything to chase. The sound of the van made it turn. It moved in their direction as they flew past, but still it didn’t pick up its pace. He wondered if the disease, this state of life after death, had an end as well. If they slowed down as the days went by, they’d become easier to deal with. Of course there would always be new and fast ones like they’d fought so far, but some advantage in their favor would be nice.
If this was true, then maybe they really were onto something. If they could alter the rate of decomposition of the cells, maybe they could regulate the progression of the disease too to stop it altogether. He thought over the mouse in the plugged in cooler in the van. His mind went back to the former student zombie-like thing he’d tested.
As his mind frantically roamed over the information again, hoping for some smooth path to a cure, he saw Richard moving in his mirror. His mouth moved, but Dax didn’t seem to pay him any mind. The guy must have been muttering to himself. He looked angry anyway. Chase noticed that Richard was not only sweating profusely, but that he just looked like shit altogether. He’d paled more so than he already was for a guy who lived in California.
Chase noticed that Richard repeatedly scratched at himself. Each time he glanced back in his mirror, he seemed to be going at some part of his skin. It appeared that this caused him pain or distress. Chase wondered how Jayda had fallen for this guy. He was nothing like him. And maybe that was the point, he mused.
“We’re all fucked!” Richard shouted.
Chase startled from the abrupt noise. He looked at Lucas whose wide-eyes and grip on the dashboard showed Chase that he’d been startled too.
“We’re all fucked! We’re all going to die! Stop the van, Chase,” he demanded.
“We are going to stop soon at a grocery store I know is just up the road. We should have time to get in and see if anything is left and still make the checkpoint,” Chase offered.
“No! Stop now!” Richard yelled. “Stop the fucking car!”
Chase hit the brakes, bringing the fast moving van to a slow halt. Richard jumped out just as the wheels stopped turning. Chase could hear him puking just outside the van.
“Ah, motion sickness, I guess,” Chase said to Lucas as he jumped out of the van.
In a second, Richard had him. He felt himself being pushed hard against the van. A stunned confusion had him only defending himself by putting up his hands against Richard’s chest. The guy was burning up. As he puzzled out this fact, he saw Richard’s fist form just inches from his head. He pushed hard against the guy, and he stumbled back.
Hands up, ready to fight, Chase watched Richard regain his balance. But, rather than advance again, he turned and walked away.
“What the hell, man?” Chase yelled at Richard’s back.
The man turned around and stunned Chase by having tears in his eyes.
“It’s all fucked,” Richard said in a quieter, more defeated voice now. “We’re all fucked.”
“I don’t understand,” Chase asked. With his eyebrows tightly furrowed, he relaxed even as he kept himself in a ready to fight stance.
“We’re all fucked,” Richard cried out in a soft voice.
Then, he pulled up his sleeve to reveal a mark. His arm was swollen and bloody. Clearly infected and probably spreading, Chase thought as he remembered all the itching. Chase took a step back toward Jayda, who remained frozen in the van but with the door open. He didn’t have a clue what to do next.