The Aftermath Trilogy (Book 1): The Aftermath [Out of the Ruins] Read online

  The Aftermath:

  Out of the Ruins

  Daniel Smith

  Copyright © 2010 Daniel Smith

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 148271809X

  ISBN-13: 978-1482718096

  DEDICATION

  To my wife and children for their support of my hobby

  CONTENTS

  1

  The Road Home

  1

  2

  The Job Offer

  Pg 19

  3

  Any Normal Day

  Pg 31

  4

  Departure

  Pg 52

  5

  The Open Road

  Pg 67

  6

  Hide and Seek

  Pg 79

  7

  Memphis

  Pg 96

  8

  A Bio-Medical Company

  Pg 122

  9

  Finder Fee

  Pg 147

  10

  11

  Flight

  Going Home

  Epilogue

  Pg 169

  Pg 191

  1 THE ROAD HOME

  At first glance he was just another teenager riding his faded tan mountain bike with worn black nylon saddlebags. Pulling a battered and worn wedge shaped blue and red bike trailer down the faded two lane road the sound of his worn bike tires humming slightly on the asphalt the only sounds heard. It was a pleasant spring morning in Mississippi. It was not too hot in the early morning of the day. The humidity held at a mild level by a slight breeze that felt good blowing through the tall thickly packed pine trees. However, if you were to look closer at the young man you would see some differences between a typical teenager out for a morning ride and him. The well-worn light brown hiking boots, faded blue jeans and short sleeve light blue knit shirt with slight perspiration stains under the arms he wore would not be out of place. Nor would the old gray day pack he wore on his back. The three foot straight blade katana style sword with the black leather wrapped hilt. Protruding from under the gray pack on his back would be the first difference noticed. The second would be the Springfield Armory G.I government model nineteen-eleven forty-five caliber autoloader. The black parkerized frame with dark brown-checkered hardwood grips sticking out of the faded Blackhawk black nylon shoulder holster strapped under his left arm would be another. There would be still more differences found in the battered bike trailer he towed behind the old mountain bike he rode.

  The sweat from riding the bike since before the sun had come up was starting to make his short cropped blond brown hair. On his lean body wet as he removed his left hand from the handlebar of the bike to wiped it from his forehead before it could run down his high forehead into his blue eyes.

  Even though the morning sky was a bright blue with puffy white clouds drifting threw it by the breeze, it did nothing to soften the unhappy look on the bike rider’s face. That clearly showed as he rode eyes darting from the road in front of him to his sides even turning his head behind him every so often as if he expected someone was following him. This was not something he wanted to do his face seemingly said. As his attention snapped back to the road in front of him as he swerved the mountain bike around the burned-out abandoned blacken shell of a passenger car on the road. He slowed down the pace of his pedaling as he turned back to look past the blue and red trailer to look at the burned-out car. The slightly puzzle look fading back into the unhappy look. As he turned back to see the green Highway sign on two rusting metal supports on the side of the road rising out of the tall green grass.

  “Now entering the Town of Hope, Population Eight hundred,” the sign read. He could see the small rectangle of a darker shade of green paint covering the original town name on the sign and the new town name added in bold white letters. The riders face tighten into a grimace as he removed his left hand from the handlebar of the bike to place it on his stomach rubbing as if to ease a pain there. But his face showed no sign of relief and the pain increase. As he pedaled the bike around a gentle bend in the road. Lined by trees as a large gray painted curved steel beamed framed bridge appeared before him with massive round looking bolts holding it together. This marked the southern entrance of the town on the east side of the Mississippi river. Running over a small tributary river that flowed slowly west towards the big river, the thickly packed pine trees started to thin as the ground sloped towards the river. He could just make out a dozen people slowly moving from the trees emerging onto the roadway some distance in front of him heading for the bridge.

  Their movement was stiff and jerking in manner. Similar to a marionette doll he once saw as a kid. Some puppet master pulling on invisible strings making their arms and legs move and jerk. Slowing the bike down, until he finally stopped in the middle of the faded asphalt road. He watched the figures make their way down the road towards a makeshift guard gate at sat at the bridge entrance. Formed from two gray metal shipping containers that were using their doors as a double gate for the bridge. Putting the chrome kickstand down, he got off the bike as he watched as six black clad people emerge from behind the gate lining up in front of the figures moving towards them.

  They were clad in black police riot gear consisting of a black tanker style Kevlar helmet with a lifting full-face wrap around clear plastic shield. Black padded vest with small hard plastic rectangular plates in three columns going up and down the vest in rows with hard plastic shoulder and forearm plates. This worn over a black short sleeve shirt with black tactical gloves. Going down to black military style cargo pants with hard plastic groin plate to merge into plastic thigh, knee and shin plates finished off with black combat boots. At their sides were leather sheaths to hold a machete. They were holding a large curved rectangle clear plastic shield. With SDF in black letters over a thin white background in the center of the shield on one arm. In the other, they were holding the machetes.

  He could just make out two more of the bridge guards in the same riot gear. Lying prone on top of the containers behind a barrier of tan sandbags with rifles trained at the approaching figures. His face crinkled as his nose registered a foul smell brought to him by the breeze. He slowly turned his head from the scene on the bridge to look over his shoulder. A low pitiful moaning sound emanated somewhere behind him. Two more of the shambling figures started stumbling out of the wild undergrowth of the forest towards the road and him. He turned his head and body slightly more to look at the emerging figures then the forest behind them for a moment. His blue eyes narrowing for a second, as he started calculating the speed and distance of the stumbling figures. Before turning his gaze back to the bridge his face dismissing the two approaching figures for the moment.

  He watched as a large figure to the right of the group on the bridge turn and started shouting orders at the five other people. They broke into groups of two as they positioned themselves before the oncoming figures. Now moving with their arms outstretched if to embrace the people before them on the bridge. He continued watched unconcerned, as the first of the riot gear wearing pair would use their shield to block or push the arms aside of the moaning people. The second one would step up from behind the first. To smash their machete down in the head of the moaning figure struggling with the shield. After pulling the machete from the falling person they would bring their shield up. Allowing the person they were working with to do the same to the next one.

  His face crinkled again as the odor of decay got stronger in his nose. Now noting the low pitiful moaning noises coming from behind him had now become almost excite grunting sound as it came close enough for him. He brought his right hand slowly up to the black leather wrapped hilt of the sword. Pulling it from the sheath on his back with a slight metal on metal hiss as he turned to face the two people coming at him. They had gone from a shambling slow walk to a drunken like movement almost moving at a normal speed his eyes assessed the closer of the two. She was wearing a dirty and tattered tan business suit. Her eyes were a solid milky white showing no sign of a pupil as they stared out of an ashen gray sunken face that was starting to show signs of decay. He did not rush his movement. Instead he used a fluid motion as he stepped quickly to the left side of her raised and outstretched arms. He swung the black metal blade of the katana at her in a forceful two-handed arc. He could feel a slight tug as the sharp blade cut through the dry leather like flesh and brittle bones as he beheaded her.

  There was no fountain of blood in fact there was no blood at all when the decaying head flew from her now collapsing body. Just a yellow sap that oozed from the neck as the body fell onto the pavement of the road. With her head landing a few feet away with a dull thud her mouth still moving, as if it was trying to bite the air around it. He brought the tip of the black blade of the katana straight up to almost a ninety degree angle. To his right side as he turned slightly to the left towards the other person he saw that it was once had been a man. However, the rotting flesh had caused holes to appear in his face where his cheeks should have been exposing the yellowing teeth within his mouth. He shifted his weight to his left leg as he lashed out with his right leg catching the man just at his right hip causing the stumbling man to stagger off to one side. He now move forward, straight at the man with the outstretched and decaying arms as he brought the sword up over his head to silence the moaning figure. When his sword came down cleaving
the man’s skull with a crunching of bone. As the black blade went through the brown dirty matted hair to expose the decaying brain to the light of the day. The yellow sap oozing out from the wound as the body started to fall causing a tugging on the blade as he pulled it free from the falling man's skull.

  Looking around he saw no other people moving towards him. And the six pair of riot gear clad guards on the bridge were busy bringing a flatbed cart out from the now open makeshift gate and were starting to put the bodies on it. Kneeling down next to the man whose skull he had just cleaved with the katana still gripped in his right hand, he started to use his left hand to check the man’s dirty clothes. He found the man’s pockets empty with the grimy watch on his arm having stopped at eight forty nine a longtime ago.

  Standing up he moved forward toward the body of the woman. Stopping long enough at her head that was still trying to bite at nothing. To bring the angled point of his sword down with a thrust through her skull with a slight crunch felt through his blade and into his arm. Her mouth stop moving, as he used his left foot to pin the head to the ground. As he pulled the sword out before taking another look around him before he bent down to examine her body.

  Using his left hand as before, he began his search. In her left pants pocket he found a red plastic disposable lighter holding it up to the morning’s sun he could see fluid in it about a quarter of the way from the top. Holding it in his hand. He used his thumb to spin the small rough metal striker wheel. Causing a spark then a small yellow flame to appear confirming that it still work before he put it in his shirt pocket before checking her jacket. In the left pocket of the dirty jacket, he found a small black leather wallet.

  Flipping it open with his fingers, he saw a badge and a photo identification of a woman that looked nothing like what he had just seen. He quickly put the katana down next to her heedless body. To use both hands to pull her dirty jacket open to find an empty brown Bianchi leather shoulder holster under one arm with a dual magazine clip holder under the other.

  “No gun,” he muttered under his breath as he worked the jacket off her headless body to remove the holster. After a quick examination he found it did have in it, two full clips of nine-millimeter ammunition.

  “Yes,” he said once again to himself as he saw the gray fabric under the dirty blouse. He used both hands to pulled open the stained white shirt exposing the gray Second Chance Apex series body armor underneath it. This took a little effort to remove before he could finish searching the body.

  As he moved his hands without trouble down one pant, leg then the other before stopping at a hard object on her left ankle. Pulling the torn pant leg up to reveal a stub nose stainless steel Smith and Wesson Night Guard thirty-eight caliber revolver in a brown Bianchi leather ankle holster on her left leg. This brought a smile to his face.

  “Good score,” he thought finding nothing more of value. He slid the katana back into the sheath on his back after wiping the yellow sap like fluid off it on the woman’s dirty pants. Before standing to put the gun and body armor in his faded bike trailer before he once again mounted the bike and slowly started pedaling for the open gate on the bridge.

  He approached the bridge with almost no notice from the black clad figures before he stopped the bike, getting off near the large man he had seen earlier. He was still outside the gate and next to him was a smaller person almost like a child in a matching outfit standing next to their father. The large man turned to face the newcomer before he spoke.

  “Hi Dan, good to see you,” Dan looked up at the big man before he replied quietly.

  “Hey John.”

  John remove the black Kevlar helmet with the clear plastic face shield from his head. Freeing the hair underneath that seemed mostly gray with some touches of brown still in it, even though he looked like he was maybe in his late forties.

  “You came on a training day,” John continued as he glanced up the road the way he had just came down. Dan looked at him puzzled by his comment. The person next to John remove the helmet from her head to reveal a young Asian woman with short black hair. Her young looking face almost made her look like a kid in a Halloween costume dressed in the riot gear she wore.

  “New self-defense force members,” John replied in response to Dan's puzzled look. “This is Sue,” John said as he motioned to the young woman next to him. Dan raised his hand slightly in a gesture of greeting. Sue nodded.

  “First day on-the-job and they get to take care of some zombies, I saw you took out a couple to,” John finished smiling.

  “Yeah, they got a little too close,” replied Dan showing no concern for the carnage he had left down the road.

  John noticed the look Dan did towards the bodies on the cart.

  “Already searched them,” John said noticing where he was looking.

  “Find anything interesting,” Dan asked absently looking away from the cart.

  Couple of watches, a knife and a good pair of boots, you look busy though,” John answered with a knowing smile.

  “One had a watch that had stopped,” Dan, replied.

  “The other,” prompted John with a slight smile.

  Dan thought for a second he had known John for about three years now and liked him, even considered him a friend so he decided not to lie about what he found.

  “The other was a detective,” John’s eyes lit up with this news.

  “Wonder if I knew him.”

  “Her,” Dan corrected him as he saw John glance up the road again; he knew John had been a police officer before.

  “Did she have a gun,” John prompted.

  “Her shoulder holster was empty, but she had a couple of clips of nine millimeter ammunition, body armor and a thirty-eight caliber backup.”

  “Damn,” John said. “Some people have all the luck,” the young woman next to him nodded her head agreeing. John paused for a second before he asked.

  “Are you going to sell the armor,” Dan gave a noncommittal shrug.

  “If you do would you give me first chance at it,” A puzzled look crossed Dan’s face he had told John the armor he had just found belonged to a woman.

  “My daughter Mary joined the self-defense force last week,” John finished. Dan just nodded his head he remembered Mary she took after her father in size and shape but had her mother’s good nature and she was a fun person to hang out with.

  “Sure,” Dan said, “Come by later and we can talk,” Dan said softly.

  “Wonderful!” John said looking up the road again as if he was expecting something.

  “By the way where is Manny?

  Sandra has had us looking for him the last few days,” he asked. Looking back at Dan now as he saw the expression on Dan’s face darkened, for a few minutes he had forgotten the events of the last three weeks and why he was here. John realized what the expression meant as he reached out a large hand and put it on Dan’s shoulder.

  “I am sorry he was a good man.”

  “Yeah,” Dan replied quietly his eyes downcast. John studied Dan’s face for a moment.

  “You go ahead to Sandra’s house. I will call and let them know that you are coming and what has happened,” John told him softly with concern in his voice.

  “Don’t tell her,” Dan said startled his eyes coming from looking at the ground with almost a scared look to them. This momentarily startled John before he responded.

  “All right, I will just let her know that you are coming,” John said as he tried to reassure Dan to ease the pain he saw on his face. He nodded the look of terror that had crossed his face was easing. Dan was moving to straddle his bike before he stopped at hearing.

  “Are we going to search him?”

  Dan heard a young guard with a Remington thirty-odd six hunting rifle on the container behind the sandbags ask John. Dan looked up with a puzzled expression at the guard that had spoken unsure if he had heard correctly.

  “Council member Jarvis,” said the guard started but stopped at the cold look John gave him.