Land of the Dead (Rise of the Empaths Book 2) Read online

  LAND

  OF THE

  DEAD

  RISE OF THE EMPATHS: Book Two

  A. S. HAMES

  RISE OF THE EMPATHS

  A Dystopian Fiction Series

  Upper Young Adult / New Adult Crossover

  The danger couldn’t be greater.

  The stakes couldn’t be higher.

  Book Two: Land of the Dead

  The journey south will test them beyond breaking point. But if there’s a chance of ending the war, Jay, Ben, and the other survivors have no choice but to continue… whatever the cost.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including, but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from the author.

  This e-book is licensed for personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  © 2018 A. S. Hames

  Contents

  1. Hope and Fear

  2. By The River

  3. Dangerous Ride

  4. Ghost Towns

  5. Questions

  6. Everything Changes

  7. The Empty Valley

  8. Crystal

  9. Buffs

  10. Among the Dead

  11. Are We The Last People Alive?

  12. Burning

  13. Charcoals

  14. The Killer in Me

  15. The Checkpoint

  16. The Fort

  17. Intruder

  18. Fire in the Sky

  19. The Things We Don’t Say

  20. Home

  1. Hope and Fear

  JAY

  We’re awake at first light around five miles south of the madness we experienced at Dub’s hands. It’s deathly quiet, like we’re alone in the world.

  Taff looks like he might be okay, as long as he doesn’t get the shoulder wound infected. Back home, it would be plenty of fresh dressings and a bed to sleep in. Here, in the open, we can only hope he’ll be lucky, even though we haven’t seen too much evidence of good luck yet.

  Ax is eyeing me. I think he has questions. But I have questions too. When we’re alone, I ask one.

  “How come you never let us know you were alive?”

  He shrugs. “I was a long way off.”

  “Fighting alongside the redcoats?”

  He seems mildly surprised. “It was kept secret on account of nobody expecting it to last. That’s why we kept making those films.”

  “So they’re our friends now?”

  “No, they’re still our enemy. But there are bigger enemies out there. The buffs, for one.”

  I take a guess. “Would the buffs be the East and South States?”

  “You’d make a good spy, Jay. The buffs are the army of the East State. It’s the color of their jackets.”

  “Are we at war with them?”

  “Yes and no. We’re at war with rebels from our own towns – but they’ve been trying to get the East State to back them.”

  “So we can expect new films where the buffs have replaced the redcoats.”

  “Sounds about right. The main objective has always been the same – never admitting the Nation’s biggest problem is its own rebels.”

  The whole thing sounds a long way from being easily resolved. I wonder about the encrypted letter the Representative gave me. How will that persuade the Leader of the Nation to make peace? I suppose there’s only one way to find out, and that’s to trek five hundred miles and deliver it.

  As soon as we’re all ready, we hit the trail. Right now, water isn’t a problem, but it’s a concern that the farther south we travel, the more the summer sun might affect what the land has to offer.

  Taff requires a stop every now and then, but it’s okay, because Ax has conceded that we’re stuck with him. In truth, we all require these stops. Only our bold wolf Von seems to have any energy – either trotting fifty yards ahead then stopping to wait for us, or letting us get fifty yards ahead, to make sure no one is following us.

  We walk mile after mile with hills stacked up on either side of the high twisting trail, but this eventually opens out a little and the landscape begins to change once again.

  “Looks like we’re moving into lower land,” Ax tells Zu. “With any luck, we’ll find a river and throw Jay in to catch us some fish.”

  Zu laughs and I think she’s a little too impressed with my brother’s stupid joke. That worries me. She’s fifteen but doesn’t seem very mature, so I don’t know if I can trust Ax with her – at least, not after what Dub said. I really do need to find out the truth about that.

  I recall overhearing Pa telling Ax about hormones, and how they can land us with an obsession, where the pursuit of physical love becomes addictive.

  A little later, while Ax is scouting up ahead with Von, and Ben and Taff are way back, I mention my concerns to Zu in private. I don’t touch on Ax being an empath – I’d never tell anyone that – but I do mention him being a young man with natural urges and desires.

  “You’re imagining things,” Zu tells me. “He’s just making friends.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s a lot older than you. Be careful.”

  I can’t say any more. Ax and Von are scampering back.

  “Three men,” Ax says. “We need to hide.

  I’m not arguing. A gunfight is the last thing we need. We have five guns between us but not as many bullets as we’d like. We’re not exactly bursting with resolve either.

  Above us to the left are some trees. It’s a steep climb up the embankment to reach them but we need the advantage. Taff needs help, of course, but we soon get ourselves up there and tucked away.

  Now we wait.

  It feels a little like the colonel’s ambush that didn’t go so well for us, but I remain focused. If it comes to shooting, I feel okay about handling three men who will be below us in the open.

  We don’t have to wait long before they come hiking uphill, armed and carrying packs. I wonder what they think the north holds for them, and what they’ve left behind that awaits us.

  Once they pass, I use the spyglass to make sure they’re not coming back. Then I try the other way to make sure there’s no one following them.

  I see something unexpected.

  “There’s a car. I can just about make it out.”

  “Coming this way?” Ben says, sounding worried.

  “No, it looks abandoned.”

  I hand him the spyglass.

  “It must have been those men driving it,” Ax says. “Maybe it broke down.”

  “Maybe we can fix it,” I say.

  “Jay and me drive tractors,” Ax explains to Zu.

  “Really?” She looks impressed. So does Ben. And that’s the weirdest thing, because I feel disgust that Zu admires Ax, but something very different regarding Ben and me.

  We make our way down the hill, stopping every so often to check there’s no-one nearby who might want to shoot us for taking an interest in their vehicle. As it is, we’re soon alone with a grimy gray car that has its fair share of dents.

  “Give it a try,” Ax says.

  It’s exciting to get inside. I’
ve never sat in a car before. Still, the controls look the same as our tractor.

  Feeling nervous, I flick the battery contact switch, pull out the choke, push the starter button, and press the gas pedal. There’s a struggling sound. The engine won’t start.

  “It’s out of fuel,” I inform them. “That’s why it’s been dumped.”

  “I’ll check the trunk,” Ax says.

  “There won’t be a can of gas, Ax. They would have used it.”

  He checks all the same – and waves an empty can and a length of thin rubber hose at us.

  Sometimes it’s better not to find something like a car. It gets your hopes up. We were okay before we found it, but now it feels like a bad sign.

  “Let’s go,” Ax says.

  I grumble a little as I get out. For no reason, I check the fuel filler cap. Maybe I imagine filling it with lovely, wonderful fuel, but the reality is nothing more than a dribble of gasoline on the bodywork below it. Although… that should have dried out in this heat.

  “Looks like someone put some gas in not so long ago.”

  I check for fuel splashes under the vehicle and along the road. A leaky tank will waste fuel in no time. There’s no sign of any loss though.

  “Maybe they didn’t have much to put in…”

  “Come on,” Ax says. He’s already moving off.

  I begin to follow him, but I halt.

  “They were driving uphill.”

  “So?” Zu says.

  “The fuel tank… it’s on an incline. There might still be a little in there.”

  Ax turns. “Why didn’t I think of that? If we turn it around, the fuel would flow into the… it doesn’t matter. We might be able to drive it downhill, maybe for a couple of miles.”

  “I don’t think we can turn it around,” Taff says. “It’s too heavy.”

  “We’ll bounce it,” I say. “You lot get on the front.”

  They get to it while I take the driver’s seat. It’s not much in the way of bouncing but I’m sure what little fuel there is in the tank will be rolling to and fro. And some of it should get through.

  Von thinks it’s a game and barks at us.

  “Here goes.” I try to start the engine. It struggles. “Keep bouncing!”

  I keep trying. And it fires.

  “Out of the way!”

  I have to do this quick because it will pack up almost straight away. As they move back, I hit the accelerator then the brake. That sloshes more fuel forward toward the pump. I reverse in the same manner, then I turn halfway, and reverse, and turn again, always keeping what little fuel there is sloshing back and forward. Now I’m facing the right way – downhill – and the engine is running.

  “Get in!”

  There’s a flurry of action with people joyfully opening doors, jumping inside, and slamming those doors. We’re soon moving on four wheels.

  “Amazing,” Zu says.

  “Wooo,” Ben says.

  “Yeah,” says Taff.

  If we weren’t at war, I’m guessing they’d be screeching at the tops of their voices.

  “Can we go faster?” Taff says.

  “We have to go slow to preserve the fuel,” I tell him.

  Von leaps onto Ben’s lap and pokes his nose out to catch all the scents on the breeze. Seeing Ben completely squashed makes us laugh a little. Then our mood is lifted further because we’re setting eyes on the biggest river we’ve seen since we left the Front.

  “Wow,” Zu says. “That just has to be full of fish.”

  I hope she’s right. The unpredictable way fish breed is always a cause of frustration.

  “A house!” Taff says.

  It’s about a mile ahead between fields and the river. Could it belong to a farming and fishing family? That would be rare. Or maybe they operate a ferry, because now I see a boat tied up.

  “We should find out who lives there,” Ax says. “You never know, they might loan us some fishing gear.”

  I already know enough about war to understand he means we don’t start fishing without finding out who owns the land. It’s a good way to avoid getting shot.

  “We’ll get past the house then one of us can go see what’s what,” Ax says.

  “I’ll go,” I say. I don’t want the others coming. We might frighten whoever lives there. “I have a few cents. I’ll offer to pay to use their equipment.”

  We pass the building and pull over. If we need to leave fast, it makes sense to be south of any danger or shooting.

  As I get out, I see there’s fresh blood on Taff’s pale green army shirt. It must have been all that bouncing he did.

  “Are you okay, Taff?”

  “I’m fine,” he says, but he doesn’t look it.

  “I’m sorry you’re hurt, Taff.”

  “It’s not your fault, Jay.”

  He looks pale and it is very much my fault.

  “I won’t be long,” I say.

  With my gun in my waistband, I head down the path. It’s about a hundred yards to the house and all seems quiet. I just need to find out if there’s anyone here without starting a fight.

  I stop short of the building. I’m okay here, out of sight of any of the windows. I stand still and listen. It’s so deathly quiet.

  A scurrying sound makes me jump. A rodent of some kind in the undergrowth. A rat, I’d guess. It goes and all is quiet again. I try to calm myself by seeing how this must be a perfect place on a good day.

  I wonder if to call out, but it seems a dangerous thing to do. If they’re hostile, I’d be handing them the advantage. I just wish I could see the occupiers in the distance, so I could call out to them in a neutral way. Then we’d be able to gauge each other.

  But that’s not the situation – so, with my gun at the ready, I’m soon up against the flank wall, silent and ready. The only sound is the river lapping against something farther on.

  Between where I’m standing and an outbuilding, there’s an old tractor. Maybe they own it. Or maybe they have to share something that expensive. It took us ten years to pay off the town loan on ours.

  The fuel cap is off. Someone’s dropped it on the ground nearby. You would never leave the cap off. Not unless you were a fuel thief, using a length of rubber hose to suck out the fuel into a can.

  I have a bad feeling.

  I creep around to the back of the house and take a peek through the kitchen window. All clear. I move to the next window. It’s a dining room and that’s clear too. I wonder if there might be people upstairs.

  I try the side door. It’s already open. Sweat makes the gun feel slippery in my hand. I take a calming breath and move inside. I pause. Motionless. Listening. There’s nothing to hear. Should I call out?

  I can hear my pulse beating in my head. I take cautious steps toward the first room. Before I reach it, I see the stairs. There are smeared bloodstains on the whitewashed treads. I try to get a sense of anyone nearby, but my state of anxiety drowns out any ability to feel the subtle vibrations. My stomach feels heavy. Damn, I’m having trouble working out what to do.

  My gun raised and ready, I edge to the only ground level room I haven’t looked into from outside. Slowly, I approach. The door is open. A quarter of the room is empty. Good. I edge forward. Gun ready. Half the room is empty. Keep moving. Slowly. My gun is coming around the door frame now. Three-quarters of the room… empty. Now I’m moving inside.

  It’s empty.

  So…

  I retreat back to the hall. I reach the stairs and begin to creep up them. One tread at a time. Avoiding the blood.

  What if someone’s up there? What if they’re armed and they think I’m their enemy? Do I call out to assure them I mean no harm? Do I alert them to my presence and trust in their judgment?

  I stay silent. Truth is I couldn’t call out if I wanted to. I’m too scared.

  The fifth tread creaks.

  I stop moving, breathing, everything.

  2. By The River

  BEN

  I don’t
feel too well, so I get out of the car. Is it possible the ride has made me feel sick? That seems strange, but I guess it’s the first ride I’ve taken on an empty stomach.

  I walk a hundred yards south of where we stopped, taking in deep breaths. Walking makes me feel better. My head clears and my stomach settles to the point where I realize how hungry I am. I could eat my arm, but hopefully we’ll soon be catching plenty of fish.

  The land here is good. Thanks to the river, there is plenty of green. That’s not so once you move away from the water – everything turns to brown or gray. It doesn’t fill me with much hope for the journey.

  The southern horizon has me wondering what we’re heading into. We have little chance of making it across four hundred miles to the Lake Towns without running into more danger. I know it’s important to do what we can to end the war, but I’m not convinced we can achieve it.

  Walking back to the car, it occurs to me we’re like ants running around in our own small world with no real influence over things that really matter. And yet, if there is a slim hope of some good coming out of this, what choice do we have?

  So south it is, because I just don’t have a better plan.

  I wish I did.

  JAY

  I’m frozen on the stairs. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be responsible for ending a war. I just want to go home.

  The moment passes.

  I take another step up. Now my eyes are level with the floor. There’s a body.

  I continue up.

  On the landing, beyond the dead man, there are four rooms. There’s definitely someone up here. I can sense it. My mouth opens to call out. I only want to assure them I’m no threat. But I think of a bedroom in Endeavor and I keep my gun at the ready.

  All the doors are open so I ease myself into a position to get a look inside the first room. Nothing. I move on to the second room. Nothing. Because of the layout, I have to check the last two rooms at the same time. I move and look left and right. There’s nothing to my left, but I’ve already glimpsed what’s waiting for me the other way. I turn slowly.