Page 1 of Worth the Ruin
CHAPTER ONE
MELODY
“Once upon a time,the world was perfect.” I scrunch my nose. “Ok, so maybeperfectis a gross exaggeration, but there weren’t flesh-eating corpses wandering around, so it was exponentially better than it is now. It really is crazy how quickly the world fell apart though. Within weeks, a third of the world’s population was gone.”Snap. “Just like that. We hardly had any warning at all, it was like the news broke and a few days later, everyone was dropping like flies—only to rise again and go fully dental on anyone within arm’s reach. Who knows what percentage is left now. World-wide communication went to hell when the bombs were dropped to contain the worst of the outbreak. Of course, that didn’t make a lick of difference in the grand scheme of things other than killing hundreds of thousands of innocent people, but, hey, hindsight is twenty-twenty, right? But because of that genius move, we haven’t had an actual update in, oh, what’s that been? Seven years? Eight? It’s hard to keep track anymore.”
I cock my head at the Bloody pinned beneath the overturned shelf in front of me. I glance between the picture on the deskof a middle-aged man standing next to a teenager in a baseball uniform holding a trophy and the thing on the floor. I think itmightbe the same guy—the principal of this preschool, I guess, since that’s what the plaque on the door of this office says—but it’s really hard to match up the proud, beaming face of the man in the picture with the rotting, crimson-stained one writhing on the floor snapping it’s black, dripping fangs at me. I shrug and continue on.
“Well, you know what that’s like. I’m sure every day is the same to you, huh? Wake up, wander around looking for a tasty person to sink your rotting teeth into, wander around some more, screech and moan a bit. Lather, rinse, repeat. That’s gotta get old pretty damn fast.” I clean my nails with the tip of a knife as the Bloody struggles, trying desperately to reach me. I ignore him as I hold my hand out in front of me to inspect my work and then sigh, looking down at him.
“I don’t know how much of this you already know, Bubba. It kinda looks like this town was out of the social loop long before the social loop got blown to hell. No offense, of course. It looks like a nice town—or like it used to be, at least. So, anyway, long story short: the world went to hell for reasons still unknown, and you became—” I gesture to what equates to a reanimated corpse from the depths of someone’s nightmares “—this.”
He claws a gray, decomposing hand into the floor as he tries to drag himself free, dying for a little taste. I shake my head in frustration. It’s true that no one has any fucking clue what actually happened to land us here, not really anyway. All anyone ever seemed to know was that people got sick—no idea how or why—blood started oozing from their eyes, nose, and ears, a high fever spiked, and then their body temperature dropped drastically. Soon after that, they flatlined.
But the problem is that they didn’tstaydead. Oh no, they rose again, usually pretty quickly, but they came back…different. Changed. Wrong.
All remnants of the person they used to be were justgone. Their eyes were vacant, and no higher thought processes seemed to exist anymore. No speech. No reasoning. No recognition. You’d tear out your best friend’s throat without a second thought once you turned—because you had no thoughts. The only thing left is the basest desire: the hunger for blood and flesh.
I’ve seen the transformation more times than I care to remember, andunsettlingis one way to describe it.Fucking creepyis another and far more accurate one.
Their skin quickly turned gray and sallow, and started to rot and fall off within a few months usually, and their eyes would shift into a weird milky white, almost totally opaque. But blood still poured from their eyes, noses, and mouths—bright red at first, then more of a black viscous goo as time went on, so they were forever stained with streaks of the stuff—hence calling them “Bloodies.” Zombies, the Undead, Groaners, Biters, Screechers, Chomps, Rotters—there are a thousand names for them. No matter what you call them, they’re bad news and contagious as fuck. One bite is all it takes and you’re done for.
Some people at the beginning thought it was germ warfare. Others thought something in the food supply would explain how widespread things had gotten so quickly. Aliens, secret government experiments, the hand of God ushering in the End of Days—the potential causes are endless, really, and I figure each one is just as plausible as the next. The think-tank kind of minds who would have figured it out once upon a time are mostly dead now, and the ones who might still be kicking are more worried about staying that way than solving a mystery that doesn’t fucking matter.
I don’t particularly care what it was or how it started. Knowing the how and the why makes no difference now, so no reason to worry about it. I just focus on survival, on the here and the now, and only glance to the past through squinted eyes. There’s way too much pain and loss looking back with anything more than that.
I shake myself and continue my one-sided conversation with my new friend.
“It was rough times in the beginning, Bubba, not gonna lie. First, we had to figure out how to even kill something that was already dead. I mean, what a mindfuck, right? But eventually we figured out a shot to the head, removing the head completely, or fire did the trick. After those of us still on a human-free diet figured out how to fight back against the Bloodies, other people became the bigger threat. Desperate times make people do desperate things. You can’t even imagine the things I’ve seen, Bubba.”The things I’ve done, I add silently. I shudder, recalling memories I’d rather leave buried.
“But even so, human nature led survivors to band together in groups. We aren’t solitary creatures, after all. Hell, even you guys instinctively gravitate towards each other and form moan-screaming, Bloody herds. Now, not all groups are good. There are some out there that you wouldn’t believe, Bubba. Slavers. Cannibals. Religious nut jobs making ritualistic sacrifices. It’scrazy. Thankfully, those have been…we’ll sayeradicatedaround here, and the good ones left have started to rebuild the world! Well, sort of. I don’t know what the rest of the planet looks like, but we have four different secure settlements in this area now, all working together to survive. We call it Haven.” I roll my eyes dramatically and Bubba lets out a guttural moan as he strains towards me.
“I know, I know, it’s a bit cheesy, but I kind of like it. It holds promise, ya know? Hope and all that. So, we’ve got,” I tick themoff on my fingers as I list them for Bubba, “The Cove, which is where I live. It used to be this uppity neighborhood with a giant stone wall around it to keep the lowly riffraff out or whatever it was rich people were concerned about, but it’s really great from a defensive security standpoint. Next is Red Leaf which was a working farm before the end of the world and they’ve flourished in the years since humans and pollution have taken a nosedive. We pretty much all just call it The Farm. They supply us with a good chunk of our food and the rest of us send workers there in month-long shifts to help out. Third is Greenbriar—it was a small community college once upon a time, so it’s set up pretty well for housing people. And lastly, is FOS. FOS is…” I purse my lips. “Well, it’s a mystery actually, but together, we all make up Haven. We’ve got running water, electricity, crops and livestock, trading between the settlements. Hell, we even have an evil dictator ruling over us, so just like old times again!”
Another groan from the Bloody makes me sigh and rise from my perch on the desk. I stroll over to Bubba, curling my lip at his disgusting visage. Black, sludge-like blood oozes slowly from his mouth, nose, and ears, and his flesh is completely rotted away in many places, tendons and bones clearly visible. He snaps his teeth as those cloudy eyes fix on me, seeming to burn with hunger.
“It was fun catching up with you. Best wishes in the afterlife, Bubba,” I say somberly. “I know this wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask to be a monster, but, well, I can’t let you just run around being one. Sorry.” With that, I plant my blade deep in his skull, the blade dragging across bone, and his struggling ceases almost immediately.
“Mel?”
“In here!” I call as I straighten and wipe the gunk from my knife. Jonah jogs into the room and arches a brow when he sees the Bloody at my feet.
“You alright in here?”
“Yep, fine. I was just filling my friend, Bubba here in on the state of the world. He’s been a bit out of the loop for quite a while by the looks of him.”
Jonah chuckles, brushing his brown curls away from his face. “Anything good?”
“A few things, yeah. How about the other rooms?”
“Jackpots!” he grins, cheeks flushed. “Seriously, certified jackpots. Good idea trying this far out in the country.”
“You should know by now never to doubt me.” He rolls his eyes and I wink as I tuck a few books I’d found in a desk drawer into my bag. Jonah brings in a few boxes and we load up the rest of the supplies from the office. We cart our loot out to the truck and I let out a whistle when I take in everything already in the truck.
“Jackpot is right,” I say with a grin up at Nathan as he takes the box from my arms and adds it to the back of the moving van. “Man, when I’m right, I amdamnright.”
“Big score for sure,” he agrees with a smile, giving me a fist bump. I survey the truck: a ton of canned food, bottled water, and other snacks—expiration dates have become vague suggestions at this point. As long as the cans aren’t dented and the stuff inside the packages isn’t fuzzy, it’s usually good to go in our book—gigantic boxes of paper towels, tissues, and toilet paper, and a ton of cleaning products. I have a feeling that the school had just restocked supplies when the world ended based on how much unopened stuff they have. There are also a few big boxes of diapers, children’s clothes, books, and toys, and I’m already dying to see the look on the kids’ faces when we drop them at the school.
I head back inside with the rest of the group and, after several more trips, we’ve stripped the building nearly to the studs and the truck is almost completely full. Exhausted but excited, Ijump in the cab of an old Tacoma with Jonah while Destiny and Jamie take the supply truck, and Nathan, Laura, and Miguel hop in the van. Jonah slaps the roof of the truck and calls out the window.
