(Book 2)What Remains

  What Remains

  The Reaper Virus Book Two

  Nathan Barnes

  A PERMUTED PRESS book

  Published at Smashwords

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-575-9

  What Remains

  The Reaper Virus Book Two

  © 2015 by Nathan Barnes.

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by David Walker

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

  Permuted Press

  109 International Drive, Suite 300

  Franklin, TN 37067

  http://permutedpress.com

  Contents

  Prologue - Purgatory

  Chapter 1 - Resurrection

  Chapter 2 – Lucid Dreamer

  Chapter 3 – Improvised Existence

  Chapter 4 – Seeking Normalcy

  Chapter 5 – Relative Safety

  Chapter 6 – False Security

  Chapter 7 – Inconspicuous

  Chapter 8 - Thankful

  Chapter 9 – Murphy’s Law

  Chapter 10 – Plan B

  Chapter 11 - Unknowns

  Chapter 12 – Still Human

  Chapter 13 – Trust

  Chapter 14 – Best Creations

  Chapter 15 – Refueled

  Chapter 16 – Deliverance

  Chapter 17 - Divergence

  Chapter 18 - Struggles

  Chapter 19 - Haven

  Chapter 20 - Onward

  Chapter 21 – Safe Zone

  Chapter 22 – Wicked

  Chapter 23 – Malevolence

  Chapter 24 - Wounds

  Chapter 25 - Ingress

  Epilogue: Contrition

  About the Author

  Prologue - Purgatory

  I was pretty sure I had died.

  Flashes of realization came into the darkness around me. I remembered the long fight home. Awareness of how bad everything hurt didn’t mean a thing because the full body pain had joined my normal sense of being.

  Why wouldn’t there be pain in Hell? I thought.

  I could only be sure at the time that I wasn’t in Heaven.

  In the enveloping darkness I heard their voices. It was always just a light whisper. “I love you Nathan,” Sarah’s sorrowful voice said. Darkness returned between their soft pleas. I remembered the silence being louder than any voice every time I fell back into it. “Daddy, you’re going to be okay,” Maddox’s voice would break in. Again it went to more painful silence. Then it was Calise, my little princess, that broke through.

  “Daddy, you’re not one of the monsters. You can wake up now.”

  How is it that I can still hear them? Am I infected?

  The thoughts were rampant and my wavering unconscious state gave them ample time to do so.

  I searched my memory for clues. What I found was troubling. I recalled shooting my way past the wall of zombies. I could almost feel the air flow over my face as I hurtled through the air. The pain from impacting the street is still with me today.

  What is today? I prodded my brain for some perspective of time and space. Will I ever wake up? Wasn’t I bitten?

  The burning I felt in my leg answered that question. I remembered a hobbling creature coming for me. Then I felt his firm, icy grip through the filthy pants I wore. There was a searing pain from his teeth upon my leg with a pressure that was so strong I could find no reason to doubt an ensuing infection.

  My head was lifted up. Cool, heavenly water traveled down my throat. Then I was gently placed back on the soft cradle below. Every moment that the memories were disrupted by that outside force brought me closer to reality. Each time was as if a lifeline had been tossed into the blackness that clung to my consciousness.

  Regardless of the strength that gradually returned to my being, I was still consumed in the void. My internal pessimistic doubt forced me to dwell on the worst-case scenario. The defeatist thoughts asked, Am I feeling better because the virus is taking over? Is this what happens when I’m about to turn?

  I was injured, that much was certain. However, the time I spent around the undead proved that the R33PR Virus gave the afflicted an evil endurance. Of course it also them, but in turn it enabled them to sustain horrible injuries and unending effort without faltering.

  If I’m infected and only feeling better because I’m about to turn, I mentally reasoned, then I have to get out of here. I can’t infect them. I’ve heard their voices, I know they are here.

  Yet no matter how much I screamed at myself to move – I could not. All I could do was stay in this darkness and dwell on what I’d done to arrive there.

  This is punishment for what I have done.

  It became obvious that when you have nothing but thoughts and pain to contend with in an unresponsive physical form, your brain turns vindictive.

  I saw faces: faces of the people I abandoned, faces of the zombies I slaughtered, the face of the man I’d killed. All were faces that inundated me with guilt. I harbored a deep guilt for the fate I’d left them to or the end I had created.

  Get out of the house before you hurt them! screamed my mind. GET THE FUCK OUT!

  Instead, I did nothing. I remained in the unknown void. In that void it was just me, the interjection of familiar voices and the unrelenting torment of thought. All I could do was wait to go back into the loving light, or make peace with the inevitability of joining the ravenous darkness that consumed our world.

  Chapter 1 - Resurrection

  Day One: November 23

  1100 hours:

  Time had become so skewed that the unconscious realm was all I knew. I had honestly grown to accept that oddly… peaceful state of being. The looming concerns of gradually transforming into an undead monster were manageable after the hell I’d gone through to get home.

  Maybe I am dead.

  My voice echoed throughout the consciously empty void.

  Isn’t acceptance one of the final stages of grief?

  Being stuck with my thoughts and the occasional outside voice for so long had me questioning reality.

  The midnight of my vision was suddenly broken. Blinding streams of light worked through and my stubborn eyelids finally agreed to open. It took intense effort just to will myself to blink. After a few minutes of straining every facial muscle, my surroundings became clearer.

  When your eyes first open after the body is nearly in a coma, dilatation of your pupils can make any light source seem like a million candles. I quickly realized that there was only one little flame flickering in the corner. My eyes blinked rapidly to eliminate the blurry sight left over from that persistent vegetative state.

  It was only a matter of time before other familiar sensations returned. I wished to God that the next one to return was something other than pain. My body hurt everywhere. Pain echoed from my chest and radiated from my leg. Surprisingly, the most notable sensation didn’t come from the duct-taped gash on my brow. A throbbing ache came from my left leg. It felt like someone had hit me there with a hammer or something.

  I laid on a heavenly surface. It took bit of contemplation before I recognized it to be our memory foam mattress. The last few places I could clearly remember sleeping were makeshift cots and those fucking railroad tracks. Those memories made me all the more appreciative of the bed underneath me.

  Then another sensation joined the mix. It was the tiny twitching presence upon my abdomen. Every atrophied muscle fought the mov
ement that was required to turn my neck to look at what I felt. As I willed myself to move, my brain ran wild with questions about my current state. Much like it did when I was unconscious, fear of possible infection dominated all thoughts. That is, until I saw what rested upon my stomach…

  It was a little hand. A sweet, heavenly hand with fingers that twitched like a cat’s paw during a mouse filled dream. My eyes followed the fingers to their source. Clinging to my battered side was my darling baby girl, Calise. Her pink pajama-clad arm emerged from beneath the heavy blankets on the bed. Twirling waves of light brown hair topped the face of this angel that was burrowed into my person.

  She must have felt the consciousness return to me. The tiny hand moved across my chest towards her face. Every inch of skin that Calise’s hand touched throbbed with pain. My entire existence had been dominated by pain for what felt like so long. Each searing nerve served as a reminder of the evil forces that wanted to consume my life. However, for the first time, this bout of discomfort caused by the contact with my daughter’s hand also reminded me why I’m still alive. I was still alive for them.

  Two little fingers brushed the hair away from her eyes. Her hair was just as pretty as Sarah’s, only with my coloring. Then two big, brown unobstructed eyes gazed up to check me. In the flickering candlelight I saw them immediately widen. Calise must have realized that finally, her father was looking back at her.

  A sweet whisper escaped her disbelief, “Daddy?”

  My throat was dry and both lips were practically fused together. I forced them apart and croaked out a response. “Hi, Princess...”

  She jumped up then pressed upon my chest for leverage. I winced but didn’t let it affect the smile I showed her back. “Daddy! I knew you were going to wake up!” Then she descended over me in a hug only a daughter could give. Her wavy hair fell across my face and tickled my nose. Every sensation acted as a revival to feelings that had gone so numb.

  “You were right, sweetie. I’m so glad that you were right. Watch out though… Daddy has a lot of booboos.” She reluctantly released her baby bear hug and sat upright beside me.

  “Mommy said you would come home.” She started crying. “She said the monsters wouldn’t stop you from finding us. The monsters are really scary but I knew they wouldn’t get you, Daddy.”

  Tears also streamed down my face. Every inch of me was so numb. I only became aware of the wet, salty streaks when one of them ran over a cut on my skin with a sharp sting. “You were right, Princess. I wasn’t going to let the monsters keep me from getting home. Why are you the only one here?”

  Calise wiped her left arm across her nose and sniffled. “Mommy and Maddox are in the backyard. I told Mommy I wasn’t going to leave you because I had to stop the monsters from trying to get you again.”

  “Thank you, baby. You did a great job keeping me safe.” My tone shifted to become stern. “Why are they in the back yard? It’s not safe outside.”

  Her brown hair flung from side to side as she shook her head defiantly. “No, no. It’s okay, Daddy. The monsters can’t see us in the backyard. We just have to stay quiet and they won’t bother us. But ever since you came home some of them have been banging on the fence.”

  “Alright, honey.” I tried to sit up. “I’m not mad. Can you go get them and tell them I’m awake?” Calise leaned over and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek. She then jumped off the bed and moved towards the trap door we’d installed in the bedroom window.

  The little angel disappeared behind the blackout curtains. I heard her voice yell out like she was telling someone a secret. Then she jumped backward and a blur of motion pushed past the thick fabric. Maddox popped into the room with the ease only an eight year old could muster.

  “Daddy,” he said in disbelief, “you’re okay!” My son looked taller than when I last saw him even though it hadn’t been a long time at all. Maddox practically jumped over his little sister to reach the bed. He grabbed me in a painful hug. Calise, ignoring my earlier pleas to be gentle, joined her brother in the embrace. Being held again by my children made it easy to swallow the pain that radiated within me. I craved medicinal relief like it was my favorite food.

  “Hi, Monkey,” I said with a proud smile. “I see you’ve been taking care of Mommy and Calise.”

  He stood up looking like a little man. “I did just as you asked me to, Daddy. I knew you wouldn’t let the zombies stop you.”

  My heart sank when I heard him say that word. That was the word that echoed in my unconscious thoughts. I still despised the fact that it had to be spoken of as a statement of fact instead of fiction. I tried to hide my discontent, “You were very right, Maddox. I’m just glad you kept our ladies safe.”

  Then the curtains rose again. The area was granted an increase in illumination from outside. Through the natural light, my beautiful bride entered the joy-filled room. She looked at me and smiled. Tears streamed down from her gracious eyes. Her cold hands were placed over my cheeks and her lips met mine. Sarah gave me a tender kiss then looked into my eyes.

  “Welcome home, Nathan.”

  1130 hours:

  Sarah sent the kids up to the attic.

  Maddox proudly informed me that he had helped Sarah clear out the area above our ranch home so they’d all have a place to spend time. It was a smart move. The attic was more isolated from sound and had a large open area. Up there the kids were able to move around without the worry of being seen through any outside predatory eyes on the ground level. Not to mention, the only way to reach it was by way of a pull down ladder. If the infected were to break inside then they wouldn’t be able to reach anyone up there.

  My wife ushered the kids out and closed the door. Sarah climbed up into the bed and under the covers. She occupied the area that was still warm from where Calise had been nestled minutes before. Her head leaned on my shoulder and she started to weep.

  “Baby,” I was crying too but naturally wanted to put her at ease. “I’m home – just like I said I’d be. It’s okay now.”

  “I was starting to lose hope,” she said in a soft, almost shameful voice.

  “So was I. There were so many of them. Sarah, I… I did some terrible things...”

  “You’re here now. You promised you’d make it and you did.” She tried to shift the subject. “You were pretty beaten up. I did my best to patch you up but worried about giving you medicine because I didn’t want you to choke on the pills.”

  Memories of the creature biting me came prominently to my mind. “Sweetie…” I felt like I was telling her that I had cancer, “I remember being bitten.”

  “You were.”

  My heart sank. “Then I have to leave. I’m not going to put you at risk. You know what a bite does… right?”

  Her voice was oddly calm. “Yes, of course I do. After all, I was willing to use a shotgun against those people because I know what a bite does. The bite didn’t go through your skin though.”

  I was so ready to accept the fate of infection that I nearly argued the fact. “How is that possible? I remember the pain.”

  Sarah sat up and reached over to the nightstand. Her hand returned with a flashlight and a freezer-sized Ziploc bag. The flashlight beam revealed a dirty patch of duct tape inside the bag. I looked closer and saw the obvious, gore splotched, bite mark that was indented in the silver sleeve.

  “The tape stopped the bite?”

  She nodded happily. “Yes it did. But… what was this?” Sarah flipped the bag over to show the adhesive side. It was dotted with my forcibly removed leg hair. Her finger pointed to a little broken black rectangle wrapped in plastic.

  Immediately I was taken back to that night. I remembered the feeling of utter despair I’d suffered from thinking I wouldn’t make it home. Most of all, I remembered the shell of a man I saw played back in the messages I’d recorded to say goodbye.

  Sarah noticed the distant look on my face. “Sweetie, what was this?”

  “It’s nothing that matters now. I�
�m just glad it was there.” I hoped she’d pick up on the hint and not push the subject any longer. That man who’d recorded those goodbye messages didn’t exist anymore.

  “Me too. I stitched up your forehead and bandaged a lot of other places.” I felt my forehead and was comforted by a covering that was not made of duct tape. “We also had some antibiotics that weren’t too old. I ground them up and put them in your water but that was risky since you were unconscious. It’s only been a couple days but I think the inflammation is down. It’ll be better now that you can swallow the other prescription anti-inflammatories we have.”

  “Thank you for tending to me. I needed it,” I said with a smile.

  “I’m almost positive you have at least one cracked rib.” Then my wife turned on the commanding power of a mothering tone. “So I hope you’re comfortable, because you’ll be laying here another week at least.”

  “I can live with that. Is the house safe? Do we have enough supplies to make it through until I can become more mobile?”

  “We’ll be fine. Maddox is helping out a lot. Just get better and then we can figure out what to do next.”

  “Yes ma’am.” She settled back down next to me. “Sarah, am I in my pajamas?”

  This was met with a cute giggle. “Yes, you are. Your clothes were covered in things I don’t even want to think about. And I had to make sure you weren’t bitten anywhere else.” She stopped and was quiet for a moment. “Nathan, you had blood on you.”

  “I was pretty messed up.”

  “I know, but it wasn’t in places where you were injured. Did someone else bleed on you?”

  I knew she’d found blood that belonged to the man whose life I’d ended. “Yeah… someone did.”

  A partner in life can recognize when you don’t want to talk about something. Sarah picked up on this and didn’t push the matter. “It doesn’t matter what you did to get here.” She stifled more sobs. “The only thing that matters is that you are here.”