Fate

  THE AFTERMATH

  book 1: fate

  V.A. Brandon

  Copyright © 2020 by V.A. Brandon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced without express written permission from the author except in the case of brief excerpts embodied in published reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Story Description:

  Mike Weber is on his way home after a shift at the convenience store when he is confronted by his high school bullies. But something’s different this time – instead of their usual bullying tactics, they seem driven to kill. As he seeks refuge in the woods, he has no idea of the chaos that has begun to spread across the city.

  Casey and her twin brother are working as camp counselors when the children start attacking the staff, killing all but two. Though they find temporary shelter up in the trees, she has to find a way out. And soon. Something from the lake has infected the children, and there’s no telling when it will reach her loved ones and friends.

  Some will attempt to cross the border before the city is forced into quarantine.

  Others will remain and seek answers.

  But no matter where they go, terror will only be a step away …

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Crap. What’s wrong with these guys?

  Mike huddled beneath the window, trying to quiet down his ragged breathing. The three punks wandering around outside were making strange noises – to Mike’s ears, they sounded like wounded animals.

  Or rather, like ravenous beasts.

  The small log cabin had been a welcomed refuge. After finishing his morning shift at the convenience store, Mike had unfortunately run into the three douchebags who’d bullied him so much in high school. Even though that had been years ago, they’d remembered their favorite punching bag and given chase.

  I’m a college senior, damn it, he thought angrily, peeking out of the window. I’ll soon be entering the corporate world after graduation. I’m not the same guy I used to be.

  The same couldn’t be said for the three jerks roaming around outside. The leader of the gang, Tommy Saunders, was dressed in bright red and yellow – a uniform from a local burger joint. Handsome like a movie star, the center of every high school party, and voted prom king in his senior year, he’d had everything … except for one thing.

  He’d lacked the smarts to graduate from high school with the rest of his classmates.

  And now here he was, flipping burgers full time and still harassing anyone who crossed his path. The two cronies beside him had fared better in life – one of them was a used car salesman and the other was training to be a mechanic.

  But all three still hadn’t outgrown their bullying tendencies, despite the fact that their golden era of high school was long, long gone.

  Probably makes them feel better about themselves.

  Cursing under his breath, Mike scanned the woodsy surroundings once again. The place had fallen strangely quiet. Even the birds no longer flapped their wings or trilled their sweet songs. There was a stillness in the air that raised the tiny hairs on the back of his neck.

  Had they given up? Was luck finally on his side?

  Slowly, he rose to his feet. Maybe he could start making his way home now –

  “Argh!” A bloodied hand smashed through the window, causing Mike to jerk back from the splintered glass spraying toward him. One jagged piece scraped his left cheek, but he didn’t notice the stinging pain spreading across his face. All he could do was stare in horror at Tommy’s eyes, which had once been a startling blue.

  They were now colorless and dripping a strange fluid. Like pus. But Mike had no time to ponder the nature of this substance because Tommy’s hand had already wound around his neck.

  The hand began squeezing with ruthless strength.

  “Let go, damn you,” Mike choked out, desperately pulling at the vise-like fingers. What the hell was wrong with him? It almost seemed like Tommy was trying to rip out his throat with his bare hands. And the animalistic snarl was growing louder by the second …

  Gotta get away before the other two decide to join in. Using every ounce of his strength, Mike wrenched himself away, and the violent force of the movement knocked him backwards into one of the walls. Dazed from the impact, he belatedly noticed that blood was dripping down from his left cheek. The cut had been a lot deeper than he’d realized.

  Outside, sounds of shuffling and snarls grew closer.

  The other two were returning.

  “Time to go,” Mike breathed, scrambling to his feet. He had no idea what was going on, why Tommy and his gang were behaving like mindless animals. But he wasn’t going to stay in this vacant cabin and find out. That was for the police to handle.

  He glanced behind his shoulder, feeling guilty about the broken window. Whoever lived here was going to get a nasty surprise later. If he was lucky, he’d only have to replace the window pane. And if he wasn’t, he’d probably run into those lunatics outside and end up getting his throat ripped to shreds.

  But there was no time to think about some nameless stranger. After all, his own life was at stake here.

  Finding a back door, Mike tentatively opened it and peeked out. There were no signs of movements. No rustling leaves or small branches snapping in two.

  It was now or never.

  Holding his breath, he crouched and raced toward the trees, hoping the shadows would shield him from Tommy’s sight. He wondered if he should head to the police station first and file a report, or head home to get a much-needed shower. The part of his shirt that was stained with blood felt gross against his skin. Come to think of it, he’d probably need a few stitches, too …

  Cursing loudly, Mike ran through the woods, not pausing for even a second to check if they were chasing after him.

  * * *

  “Look at them.” Casey swallowed hard, staring at the twelve-year-old campers below. She and her twin brother Cain had taken refuge on one of the big oak trees on campgrounds. “Is that normal behavior?”

  Both juniors at college, Casey and Cain had taken summer jobs as camp counselors. They’d been doing this every year since high school, so both knew what to expect and how to handle tweens who’d been away from home for weeks. They certainly had the experience and training.

  But no one had prepared them for this.

  “You mean is it normal for twelve-year-olds to turn homicidal in mere seconds and start cannibalizing anyone they see?” Cain’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Gee, sis, I don’t know. It must be a generational thing.”

  She knew his open hostility was a front to mask his underlying fear. Truth was, they were damn lucky to have escaped at all. The other camp counselors and cook hadn’t been as lucky; Casey and Cain had somehow managed to lock them inside one of the staff cabins before taking refuge up in the oak tree.

  And now here they were, stuck and hungry,
while a bunch of twelve-year-olds snarled at them from eight feet below.

  “How did this happen?” she pressed on. “I mean … one minute, they were having fun swimming at the lake; then the next, all hell broke loose. Was there something in the water? Could they have been infected by some kind of brain-eating parasite?”

  Cain fell silent, his brows furrowed in contemplation. His thick blond hair had turned a shade lighter during the summer. The same had happened to Casey’s blonde locks as well.

  “Strangely enough, your theory doesn’t sound all that crazy,” he said finally, lifting his head. “It’s pretty rare, but I’ve heard of cases like that before. Trouble is, none of them turned into ravenous, homicidal maniacs.”

  “Maniacs or not, we can’t stay up here all day. I’m starving, I’ve got scratches on my thighs, and I seriously need to take a piss.”

  “So how exactly do we go past this horde of tween zombies?” Cain goaded, returning to his sarcastic tone.

  Casey glanced around the campsite, her gaze quickly landing on the red truck parked near the cafeteria Staff Only door.

  “You see that?” She pointed at the truck. “I’m pretty sure the door’s unlocked. I’ll try to make a lot of noise and keep the campers here. In the meantime, you’ll quietly slip away and bring that truck over so we can drive home.”

  “It won’t work,” he replied at once. “For instance, what if the door is locked? Where do I hide, then? Also, are we sure the car key’s inside? And what if there isn’t enough gas in the tank?” He shook his head. “We need something more concrete than –”

  “I don’t have time to sit and think of all the what-if scenarios,” Casey snapped, finally losing her patience. “At this rate, we’ll end up spending the night in this tree.” She dangled her legs over the thick branch she was sitting on. “Make some noise, Cain. Loud enough to wake the dead.”

  “Casey, wait –” He stretched out an arm to stop her, but he was a second too late. She jumped, landing hard on the ground. With agile speed, she launched forward and hid behind another tree before the mindless tweens had time to notice the close proximity of their prey.

  “Hey!” Cain shouted, waving his arms and shaking the branches wildly. “Look up here, campers! That’s right, come and get me. It’s time for your favorite afternoon snack – fresh human meat. Right here, right nowwww!” His deep voice cracked on the last word.

  What a drama llama, Casey thought, rolling her eyes. Still, a smile tugged at her mouth as her brother’s antics grew screechy, his sweaty face as red as a baboon’s backside. He was doing everything possible to help her, and she wasn’t going to waste his efforts.

  Nevertheless, a part of her wished she’d had her cell phone to record this for future blackmail.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she took a quick peek around the thick trunk. Joking aside, Cain was doing one hell of a job keeping the campers entertained. The coast was clear. She dropped onto her belly to stay undetected and crawled toward the truck, reaching up a hand to test the handle.

  Click. The door was open.

  Her heart palpitating, Casey slipped into the driver’s seat and quietly shut the door. The key was still in the ignition. Rhonda, the camp cook, had probably left it there as she was transferring the day’s fresh groceries into the walk-in refrigerator.

  Right before the hellish nightmare spread across the campsite.

  She gave a loud honk to let Cain know their plan had succeeded. As expected, the noise attracted the campers’ attention, and the children barreled toward the truck, tripping and trampling over each other in their desperate bid for human flesh.

  As one of two survivors, how the heck was she going to explain this to the children’s parents?

  “Sorry kids, but your favorite camp counselors can’t stick around. We have to let the authorities know what’s happened here.” Briefly, she wondered if the police would view them as suspects, but now wasn’t the time to worry about it. Pressing down on the gas pedal, she lurched forward – hitting a few snarling kids in the process – and parked right under the oak tree where Cain was waiting.

  She threw the door open. “Get in!”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. In seconds, he’d climbed down and thrown himself into the driver’s seat before Casey could move over to the passenger side. Losing her balance, she toppled over, her legs up in the air.

  “Damn it, Casey, get your feet out of my face,” he growled, slamming the door closed.

  “Just shut up and drive,” she ordered, her voice muffled. “Get us out of here.”

  As the truck began moving again, several kids banged their heads against the windows, leaving bloodied streaks on the glass. Now that Casey and her brother were relatively safe, her adrenaline took a steep nosedive.

  She sat up and began bawling like a child, unable to stop the torrent of tears gushing down her cheeks as the campers chased and clawed at the passing truck.

  Under normal circumstances, Cain would’ve told her to cut it out. But the mood inside the vehicle was one of shock and horror as the twins left the campsite and drove through the woods. All they could focus on was returning home, where their own parents were waiting.

  Home, where safety and sanity awaited them.

  Chapter 2

  Don’t drink the water! There’s something strange in the water, a passerby in a disheveled suit had cried out before being mauled by a crazed grocery clerk wearing a forest-green apron. Mike didn’t stick around when blood shot from the man’s head like a geyser and grayish matter fell onto the asphalt with a sickening plop.

  Chaos. That was the first thing to greet Mike as he’d stumbled out of the woods. He’d escaped from Tommy and his friends, only to find the city ravaged by hordes of mindless cannibals. It was like escaping from a pissed-off bulldog just to end up trapped by a pride of man-eating lions.

  Don’t stop. Just keep running, he told himself. The building’s only a couple of minutes away. His studio on the fifth floor of the dilapidated building had been his home all through his college years. He’d always hated living there, hated all the cockroaches and the yellowed, peeling wallpaper; but today, it felt like a fortress, a place of refuge. He was going to batten down the hatches and ride out this madness until it passed away. Until the government sent the special forces in to bring the city under control. There was enough half-priced snacks, canned food, and sodas in his pantry, courtesy of his part-time work at the local convenience store.

  Thirty seconds. He could see the entrance to the building, but it was blocked by several people. Or were they cannibals? Without pausing to consider his actions and what lay ahead, Mike swiped a stray police baton off the ground. Its owner was obviously long gone or long dead. Whatever the case, it belonged to him now.

  “Coming through!” he shouted, raising the baton. If they were not human, he was going to do it – he was going to smash their skulls until they were nothing more than a pulpy mess.

  He raised the baton over his head.

  “Help!” An elderly gentleman standing at the entrance glanced at Mike, desperation in his rheumy eyes. “I … I’m stuck!”

  Mike hurried forward, assessing the situation. The gentleman’s coat – old, tattered, and obviously beloved by the look of it – was caught on a stray nail. Two others were pushing at him, yelling in exasperation.

  “Just rip it off! You’re going to get us killed out here!”

  Gunshots rang through the air, followed by screams and wailing sirens. They sounded pretty close.

  “My wife bought me this coat,” the gentleman explained, undeterred by the commotion, “before she passed away four years ago. It’s the last gift she ever gave me.”

  “I don’t care!” the woman screamed, pushing at him. “Move and let us inside!”

  The entrance was pretty narrow, just wide enough for two people to squeeze through. Mike grabbed the woman’s shoulder, tightening his grip until she winced.

  “Quiet down, both of you. You don�
�t want to attract unwanted attention.”

  At that reminder, the man and the woman fell silent, glancing behind them in fear.

  “Sir, you need to stop struggling,” Mike continued, trying to remain calm. He couldn’t blame the couple for reacting that way. Even he had to suppress the desperation welling up in his chest. “Can you press up against the jamb and keep still?”

  “Yes, I can do that,” the gentleman replied. “Just as soon as they let go of me.”

  The couple immediately complied. Once the elderly man flattened himself against the jamb, the couple – who were both on the portly side – forced themselves through, muttering imprecations under their breath as they hurried in the direction of the elevator.

  “Can you slip out of the coat?” Mike asked.

  “I’ll try.” The gentleman made quick work of the buttons in front, then carefully pulled himself forward. Without his body weighing it down, the coat hung lightly from the rusty nail.

  Mike grabbed it and urged the gentleman into the building. “Where’s your apartment?”

  “It’s on the first floor, right next to –”

  More horrified screams infiltrated the lobby, accompanied by the unwelcome sounds of frenzied snarls.

  Those things were inside.

  Mike quickly glanced around. The one elevator in this godforsaken building was out of service, judging by the mutilated bodies piled over the threshold. The door kept closing, then pinging open, then closing on them again. Rinse and repeat.

  “Can you climb the stairs?” he asked the elderly gentleman.

  “I’m afraid my old bones aren’t strong enough to – wait! What are you –”

  Before he could finish speaking, Mike grabbed his thin arms, then piggybacked his new acquaintance all the way to the fifth floor. Pumped by sheer adrenaline, he took less than a minute to reach his apartment door.

  “You’re very strong,” the gentleman said feebly. “And fast.”

  “It’s mostly fueled by fear,” Mike said, unlocking the door. “Let’s get in before one of those things finds us.” Once he was inside his studio apartment, with the gentleman standing awkwardly beside him, he allowed himself a groan and collapsed on the hard, wooden floor.