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Seasons of Z (Book 2): Dead Spring
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Seasons of Z book Two:
DEAD SPRING
Seasons of Z Book Two : Dead Spring by Aline Riva & Jay Jarvis
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Seasons of Z Book Two : Dead Spring
© Aline Riva 2020
©Jay Jarvis 2020
The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
All rights reserved. No part of this publication be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Seasons of Z book Two:
DEAD SPRING
Chapter 1
The winter had melted away to Spring. Inside the complex, the living were warm, secure and fed. Mickey had recovered from his injuries and as the group who had been thrown together by circumstance got closer as the weeks had gone by, they had become used to their togetherness, safe in the former asylum where no zombie could enter. Outside, to the East of the building where a fence was down, a large cluster of dead had wandered in, getting as far as an exercise yard where they wandered aimlessly, now and then reaching for the barred windows or snaking a decayed hand through the gap and smacking dead white, peeling flesh and fingertips of exposed bone against toughened glass. The door that led to the yard was solid metal and securely locked. They could not get in.
But as she stood in the kitchen area washing up after breakfast, she heard them moaning and hissing and snarling and looked up to see a woman with long black hair stretching out a rotted hand as exposed bone scraped at the glass. And Joy Evans just looked back down at the dishes as she cleaned them. Maybe they had been stuck in this nightmare scenario so long that the sight of those creatures out there was no longer shocking. Or maybe they had all seen too much to be affected like they used to be. They had seen it all, death, destruction, the loss of everything that had been normal when the world used to make sense. She wondered in that moment, How much pain could a person soak up before, like a sponge, they became saturated and unable to take in any more? Maybe they had all reached that limit long ago.
But all that mattered now was the respite from the running and hiding, from the desperate search for food and shelter. Here was safe, and that was all that mattered.
“They don't seem to be keeping too well out there,” Mickey remarked as he joined her at the sink and started to dry the dishes, “Have you noticed they don't look so fresh now? Maybe the heat of the summer will wipe them out. They said it would last a year. Maybe, it will be less.”
Then he set down the plate and grabbed a wet cup. It slipped from his weakened hand, hitting the floor with a crash that made the dead outside press their faces to the barred window as they stared in, bony fingers scratching on the pane as Mickey swore loudly and then began to gather up the broken pieces.
“Clumsy bastard...” he muttered, “Sorry, Joy...”
“I'll do it, she offered.
Mickey threw the broken shards into the trash and turned back to her with a smile.
“No, it's okay – I'll be more careful this time.”
As she washed up, he dried, and as they stood there, ignoring the dead locked outside, they spoke some more.
“Sometimes I think about what we'll do when we leave here,” Joy said.
He glanced at her, then carefully placed a dry plate on the rack and reached for another one.
“We can't think that far ahead. It could be next month, next year or never. We can only hope this is over quickly.”
“But if it's not, eventually, the food will run out,” she reminded him, and then we will have to leave.”
“This place is stocked up to last for months!” Mickey reminded her, “Don't think that far ahead, Joy.”
“I cant help it,” she said as she looked to the window and the dead glared in snarling, “Some day they will be gone. It can't end any other way. I can't even imagine it ending any other way, because that would be the end for all of us...”
Further down the corridor, Jack was in his stolen guard's uniform, and he smiled as he passed Poppy, who was on the floor with coloured pencils and paper in front of her as she made a sketch.
He stepped over the paper carefully, then smiled even more as he saw Lina come out of her room. They were all staying at the staff quarters, the rooms were small, but certainly comfortable. And it had been several weeks since their arrival. He had got to know each one of them, becoming friendly and charming, and soon, it would be time to strike. He would have Lina, he had decided, charm had only worked so far with her, she liked him, but she wouldn't let him get any closer. But he was used to taking what he wanted. He thought about how he had killed his guards after the dead had taken over, that secret was locked away on the floor below in a secure cell, and if anyone saw that, there would be serious trouble.
But they wouldn't see it, because the door was always locked and he kept hold of all the keys... And the spares too. That meant, when his guests locked their doors for the night, they had no idea he could go into any room he wished – while they were sleeping. He had watched Lina sleep often, biding his time. It was no fun to simply pounce... this was something that took careful planning. And he had all the time in the world to do it. She would be his whether she wanted to or not, it was just a matter of time, and it was his little secret...
That thought kept a smile on his face that made her smile too as she looked at handsome and charming Jack and warmth shone in her eyes.
“I did not see you at breakfast this morning,” she said.
“I was busy, checking the doors, the fences, making sure there's nowhere else those things can get in. I know we're safely contained, but I like be sure it stays that way.”
“Perhaps you can help me find some fuel for my chopper,” Lina said, “She is still airworthy, just needs fuel.”
“I'm really not sure it would be a good idea to leave this place,” Jack replied, “We all know how dangerous it is out there. Let's just enjoy having warmth and food and security, shall we?”
She studied his gaze for a moment and then shook her head.
“No,” she said, “You seem to be brave enough to stay here alone and lock those things outside and fend for yourself...You are a very confident man. Too confident to stay here constantly, a man like you does not strike me as one who would prefer to hide, Jack.”
He got the creeping feeling that maybe, she was seeing through his act. He smiled again.
“But there's nothing out there, Lina!”
“There could be other survivors!” she reminded him.
“And if there are, I'm sure some will find their way to us,” Jack replied, “I have to go now, I haven't finished checking the doors. There are so many around here.” He paused to jangle the many keys on the chain he wore on his belt, and then he flashed her a smile and walked off down the corridor. Lina watched him leave. She wasn't sure why, but she had started to the feel there was something not right about Jack... She just hadn't figured out what it was – yet...
Sage was on the flat roof of the ground floor where a building jutted out from the main section, beneath her was a swimming pool area next to the infirmary. She stood there as the last trace of winter left the air and a spring breeze blew fresh across the rooftop, watching through binoculars as she looked out past the asylum and to the roads and low hillsides beyond. Not a vehicle in sight, and not a single living soul, either...
At times like this her thoughts
shifted to Bess. Maybe she was still out there. The ache in her heart told her to keep hoping, and that was what she was going to do. In the mean time, they were safe here – and Poppy was safe, that was what mattered at this moment... Low moans were carried on the breeze as it changed direction. It brought along with it the stench of decaying bodies. The zombies were over on the East wing, and could not get around to this side of the complex. She looked through the binoculars again, seeing the roadside far off away from the fencing, higher up as the road beyond this place climbed. There was not a trace of ice or snow left, flowers had begun to peek up from the grass, leaves were returning to the trees. Something white was looking pale and stark in the sunlight and she focused on it then turned away from the sight of a skull and scattered bones. In the dark of the trees, the dead stumbled like slowly shifting shadows. Spring was here with all its promise of new life – and in the middle of that, the dead roamed... She stepped back, looking to the top of the hillside.
In the courtyard below, Jack walked past as he went off to check the locked gate was secure, and he gave her a wave. Sage waved back, then she looked to the hills again and raised the binoculars, taking another step back. There was a sharp crack of rotten wood as the roof covering slipped inward and split and she gave a yell as she fell down, into the pool house as Jack stared on in horror, hearing the splash as he recalled that pool house was locked for a reason... He had overpowered two guards in there, and killed them in the pool. The bodies were still in there...
“It's okay Sage!” He called out quickly, “I'm on my way, I have the key!”
Sage had plunged into deep cold water, then survival instinct had kicked in and she had resurfaced, gasping for air as she blinked foul smelling pool water from her eyes. She looked about the empty pool house, and then as something bumped her she turned, splashing as her scream echoed about the room: It was a body. The body of a man and he had been stripped of his uniform and floated face down. On the other side of the pool, a female prison guard was floating face upwards, decayed but definitely not a zombie, she stared lifelessly up as she floated there, bloated by water and rotting.
Sage turned to swim for the side, and the weight of the dead man's body trailed with her. She cried out in alarm, thrashing about, expecting the corpse to raise its head, but the dead man was still floating, something on his shirt had snagged on her coat. She tugged it free, and it came away in her hand: A small gold pin with a name on it... Jack Oliver... She dragged in a lungful of air and dived beneath the surface, seeing a gun on the floor of the pool. There was also a discarded knife, and from beneath, she could see the real Jack Oliver had died from a stab wound to the guts... Sage came up for air and swam for the side, she reached it and hauled herself out, then stood there for a moment, shivering as she stared at the sight of a discarded prisoner's uniform over by the wall. There was a name and number on the uniform and the name said J Swiftman...
“Shit...” she whispered as she shuddered and her thick coat felt too heavy and she took it off and it landed poolside with a wet thud. The door opened and the sound was hollow. She looked over to see Jack standing there with a look of alarm in his eyes.
“Are you okay?”
She looked back at him. This was not Mr Oliver. He was a dead prison guard, and this guy calling himself Jack had killed him, and the woman, too. Oh shit, this place had housed some of the most dangerous offenders in the UK and he was a prisoner who had murdered a guard and stolen his identity... They had been staying here for six weeks, not knowing they were sharing their living space with a maniac...
“I said, are you okay?” Jack sounded agitated as he made his way over to her. She thought quickly.
“I didn't break any bones. Those bodies... zombies?”
Suddenly his look of agitation was gone.
“Yes,” he said, “I came across them right after the evacuation. Had to kill them both. I was lucky not get bitten! You should go somewhere warm to dry off – the governor's office is not far from here, I know a short cut.”
“No, it's okay, I'll go back to my room, I need to change,” she said.
He looked at her, taking in the sight of Sage in wet clothing, her hair dripping that foul water, corpse water, where two bodies had floated for several months. His gaze was lingering too long. Sage had noticed. Who ever J Swiftman really was, she was willing to bet sex offences were on his list of crimes...
“Are you sure?” he asked with a smile.
She forced a smile back and nodded.
“I'm sure,” she replied, feeling at that moment that she had never missed carrying a gun as much as she did now. She had to warn the others...He walked her to the open door, Sage keeping enough of a distance to ensure he got no chance to make a grab at her. She didn't look at him as he closed the pool house door and locked it up again.
“You don't want to walk back to the other block shivering!” he said to her, “Just down the end of the hall, is a door that leads through to the main building. The office is on the left as we go in. Let me put the heater on and warm you up.”
She thought about it again. It seemed like a very bad idea, but maybe that office would hold some clues to Jack's real identity. She made a mental note to scan that room for possible weapons as soon as she entered it, because if he laid a hand on her, she would go in for the kill...
“I do need to warm up,” she said quietly.
Jack led the way and she followed, saying no more as they left the pool house and crossed a corridor, then he unlocked another door and went through first, she followed and he closed it behind them, then turned the handle of the door that led to the governor's office. It was already unlocked, and it swung with ease on oiled hinges to reveal a smart looking office with a desk and a comfortable chair. There was a computer on the desk but she didn't know access codes so she doubted that would be of any use. She saw an old fashioned fireplace in there and noted there was a heavy iron poker on a hook next to it, should she need it. And along a wall on the other side of the room, was a row of tall filing cabinets, the old fashioned kind... they kept paper records here as well as computerised... that could be useful...
“There's a staff room next door,” Jack said, pausing to switch on an electric heater placed nearby, “I'll make some tea.”
“Thanks,” she said, and she stood there by the desk, watching as he left the room.
Sage listened as his footsteps faded out and then she heard a door open and swing shut, then she turned to the cabinet and dashed over, quickly searching the alphabetical listings. SWA – SWO. She found the drawer and tugged. It opened stiffly and she began to quickly flip through the case files. She found his file: Jack Swiftman. She saw his picture and then she began to read and her blood ran cold. He was serving a life sentence here for multiple rape and murder convictions... Sage saw a warm throw on the back of a sofa on the other side of the room and she hurried over, tucked the file in her jeans then wrapped the throw around her shoulders to hide it. Then she sat down on the sofa, watching the door, waiting for Jack to return.
Moments later he was back, placing hot tea on the table for her.
“Are you sure you're not hurt?” he asked.
She couldn't look in his eyes any more, not now she knew.
“I'm fine.”
She reached for the tea and sipped it, then she it down again and got up.
“Leaving so soon? You're still freezing!” he said as he looked at her intently and wondered why she was looking at him so nervously. Had she worked it out?
“I really do need to go and get changed now,” she told him, “I'll be fine.”
“And you'd better keep off that roof from now on!” he reminded her.
She looked back at him.
“Believe me, I will!” She said, then she walked off. By the time she had left the building she had broken into a run, hurrying across the yard to reach the doorway that led back to the main staff quarters.
“What happened to you?”
River was
the first to ask that question as she rose from her seat in the staff lounge and Chris turned his head towards the door.
“What's happening?” he asked.
“I fell through the pool house roof,” Sage said as she closed the door behind her and then paused to lock it, she took off the throw and pulled the hidden file from her jeans and handed it to River.
“He's not Jack Oliver. Prison guard Oliver is a dead man floating in the pool along with another murdered guard. I found Jack's prison uniform nearby... when he took me to the office to make me some tea, I found the old filing system and Swiftman was there....it's him, River.”
River had already opened up the file, and she drew in a gasp as she saw his picture, read his name and the reason for his incarceration.
“Who is he really?” asked Chris as he sat there listening to the conversation.
“Jack Swiftman,” replied River, “A serial rapist and murderer, he was serving a life sentence here before the apocalypse.”
“Now I know why his face looked familiar!” Joy exclaimed as she entered the room and Mickey followed, “Swiftman... used to work as a lorry driver... He picked up hitch hikers, raped and strangled them, dumped their bodies at the roadside all over the country...”
Sage ran for the door.
“And he's out there and so is Poppy! Poppy!” she yelled, “Get in here!”
Poppy was further up the corridor, she looked up, then she gathered up her pencils and her papers and began to walk towards the door.
“I'm taking Poppy back to our room and I'm locking the door,” Sage said, “Maybe he doesn't have any plans to harm us – yet. But I'm not taking the chance.”
Poppy reached the doorway and Sage grabbed her hand, leading her away down the corridor, quickening her step as she went, keen to ensure her sister's safety as well as her own.