DECIMATED (The Nameless Invasion Book 1) Read online

  It might be useful for fending off a rabbit, or a very old rat.

  The only other knives they had were butter knives.

  I walked back to the bedroom, just in time to see Abigail pull on a thong.

  Her back was turned to me, along with Emma’s, so I stood there watching as the two of them talked.

  Abigail next pulled on jeans, her breasts still uncovered. The light was on now, and I could see her clearly.

  I glanced down, and saw that this wasn’t the only thing that could be seen clearly.

  I would need to get some clothes. Running around in a hospital gown was growing mighty inconvenient.

  I tapped on the door, and they turned to look at me, Abigail covering her breasts with her arm. I saw Emma had cleaned the blood from her nose and face.

  “This is the only knife you have?” I asked, holding up the little green blade.

  “Yeah,” Emma agreed.

  “Are you kidding me? This is the only thing you have that’s a weapon?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Well,” Abigail said, “other than her judo gear.”

  Emma nodded again. “Oh, right.”

  “Judo gear?”

  9

  Her ‘judo gear’ was more like ninja gear.

  She even had a ninja suit.

  Her gear bag sat on her bed—we’d moved to her bedroom now—and I pulled the suit from it and held it up. “This doesn’t look like it would fit you.”

  “Yeah I know. I got it on the internet. The sizes were totally wrong.”

  “I told you they were men’s sizes,” Abigail said. She looked at me. “Maybe you should wear it. You could use a bit of covering.”

  I shrugged. “I guess it’s the only guys’ clothing you have?”

  “Actually no,” Abigail said. “My brother left a pair of his jeans here. Though I don’t think they’ll fit you, seeing as how he’s only twelve years old. He’s tall, but not that tall.”

  “What about Mike’s boots?” Emma asked.

  “Oh yeah. I still have those. If you want to wear them, we can probably find some socks that will fit you.”

  “Anything would be better than these,” I said, picking up the ninja boots that went with the outfit. With a split toe, cloth top, and thin bottom, they didn’t seem well-suited to an apocalyptic scenario.

  The other items in her judo bag, however, were more situation-appropriate.

  First, she had a stack of throwing stars. Actual metal ones.

  In addition, she had daishō, which was a pair of Japanese swords, one long and one short.

  Much better than a chef’s knife.

  Also in the bag was a grappling hook, which looked rather cheaply made, but might come in handy.

  It would’ve come in handy about thirty minutes ago as we were escaping the prison.

  Finally there were some claws to aid in climbing.

  I had a vague memory of having some similar equipment when I was a kid. I think I got it through mail-order.

  The swords however, I had never had anything like.

  I was no bladesmith, but they looked high quality, and they appeared to be full tang, based on the rivets in the handle. Full tang meant that more or less the full width of the blade continued on into the handle, instead of a small rod of metal or a simple tab.

  The only problem was that in addition to not being a bladesmith, I was no swordsman.

  But I was good with a knife, and the shorter of the two blades was short enough to serve that purpose.

  I wasn’t sure what good it would do against the alien elephant creature or others like it, but maybe it would help if I encountered something like the eyeless alien parading as a guard.

  Somehow though, I felt in my heart there weren’t any others like him.

  It made me wonder where he was now.

  Was he still down there in the infirmary wing, staring at that stairwell door that we had escaped through?

  Had his foot grown? Had he grown? Had he turned into something more hideous?

  Had whatever it was behind that slit, that fiery eye, finally come out?

  All questions I hoped to never know the answer to.

  “You should let me look at your wound,” Emma said. “Before you get dressed. I’ve got a first-aid kit here, and who knows when we’ll get another chance.”

  I nodded and looked at Abigail. “Get a backpack or duffel bag, fill it up with all the supplies you can. Food, water—cash if you have any. And anything else you can think of that we might need.”

  “Might need for what?”

  “For surviving. Finding a safe place.” That reminded me of something, and I looked around Emma’s bedroom. “Where’s your TV?”

  “We don’t have one.”

  “What do you mean you don’t have a TV?”

  “We use the computer.”

  Jesus, go away for two years and everything changes. Though, I was also ‘away’ before prison. “Can you check the news on the computer?”

  “Duh,” Abigail said.

  “I mean videos, not newspaper.”

  “Duh,” she repeated.

  “Bring up the news, then. Let’s see what’s going on out there.”

  “What are you doing?” Emma asked as I went to her window.

  “Checking to see what made that noise earlier.” Other than that initial sound, there hadn’t been anything since. Between controlling myself around the beautiful naked redhead and searching for weapons, I had forgotten about it.

  Don’t let your humanity get the best of you, Gage. Uncontrolled impulse has brought down great warriors. And you are neither warrior nor great.

  I pushed away the memory. But still, the old mantra repeated in my mind, unbidden and unwanted: action, not reaction.

  I pulled aside the curtains and peered out. Her window looked down onto the parking lot, and I could see her Prius.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  Unfortunately, while whatever had made the sound was nowhere to be seen, the cause of the sound was immediately evident: another car knocked on its side.

  Our car.

  What did these things have against cars sitting on their wheels?

  Well, it was a shitty car anyway.

  Electricity. I shook my head.

  Electricity was for RC cars, not ones you sat in.

  When I turned around, I found Emma and Abigail sitting on Emma’s bed, staring at a small TV Emma was holding.

  But as I got closer, I saw the little Apple logo and recognized it for what it was: a tablet.

  “When the hell did those things get so big? Thought they were supposed to get smaller.”

  Abigail—who had ignored me and not filled a bag—gave me an odd look, but Emma just said, “Look,” and turned up the volume.

  I looked.

  “…attacks all over the country. Like before, citizens are reporting men who look like animals, or animals who look like men; demonic creatures; and men wearing mechanical armor, or covered in what looks like liquid metal.

  “Some are reporting robots, cyborgs.

  “But like before, we only have camera footage of the animals.

  “But this reporter can tell you, I’ve seen with my own eyes.

  “I don’t know why the camera didn’t pick it up, but whatever it may have been, it was no animal.

  “It was a demon.

  “And I’m an atheist.

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to deny what I saw before my own eyes.

  “What I saw devour my cameraman, Ken.

  “He—”

  She choked up, tears forming in her eyes, and the video cut back to the newsroom, a trio of somber yet professional-looking reporters staring at the camera.

  Abigail paused the video and looked at me. “They’re saying in the last hour the number of attacks increased a thousandfold.”

  “Holy shit.”

  She nodded.

  I saw that she hadn’t entirely ignored me, as she had a duffel ba
g beside her, but an empty one.

  “Go fill that up,” I said gesturing at the bag.

  “Fine,” she whined, grabbing the bag and hopping off the bed.

  “Hey,” I said as she reached the door. “Got a car?”

  “No.”

  Damn, that—

  “But I do have a truck.”

  Hallelujah.

  10

  I sat naked on Emma’s bed as she checked my bandages.

  Having her so close, and no longer being in prison, it was a real struggle to control myself.

  Two years was a long time to go without a woman.

  Just the scent of her was enough to send erotic chills through my body.

  I suppressed them.

  “I’m going to change these,” she said, peeling off the old bandages.

  “You’re the doc.”

  “I wish. I’m only a nurse.”

  “You’re doing great.”

  She laughed softly. “I’d hope so. A first year could change bandages.”

  Then she had the old bandages off, and was staring at my side.

  I lifted my arm and looked down to see what she found so interesting.

  “Interesting,” she said. “She was right, you really do heal fast.”

  “Who was right?”

  She got that blank look again, then, “One of the doctors.”

  “I didn’t notice any female doctors.”

  “That’s because you were unconscious.” She ran a finger around the wounds on my side, and her gentle touch made me want to do all kinds of rough things to her.

  What had only days ago been massive wounds requiring over a hundred stitches in all, now looked like minor-to-moderate cuts.

  Frowning, she stood and took my hand, pulling me into her ensuite bathroom.

  She took out a first-aid kit from under the sink, grabbed a sterile cloth from it and wet it with water, then wiped my wounds down, cleaning off the dried blood.

  Even the one stab wound on my inner thigh, near my crotch.

  She’s a professional, I told myself. Don’t react.

  Two years, another part of me replied.

  She pulled out a bandage roll from the first-aid kit, and wound it around my waist. “Keep healing like you are, and soon you won’t even need this.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  She cut the bandage with scissors from the kit and tucked it in, securing it in place.

  Then she knelt down in front of me and began wrapping the wound on my thigh, her hands brushing against me as she did.

  I couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not.

  She looked up at me and gestured back into the bedroom with her head. “You really gonna wear that?”

  “What, the ninja suit?”

  “Yeah.”

  I held my hands out to the side, looked down at myself. “Think it’s a better idea I go out like this?”

  “It’s certainly—”

  “I couldn’t find your first-aid kit,” Abigail said as she came into the bedroom. She was digging through a bag she carried, and so didn’t see us at first.

  “I thought it was in—” Then she looked up and saw us in the bathroom, Emma kneeling in front of my crotch.

  Her mouth hung slightly open as her eyes scanned my body.

  “We’ve got it here,” I said. “Did you get everything else?”

  She didn’t respond.

  I snapped my fingers at her. “Abigail.”

  “Uh, yeah. I— I got everything. I mean… I think.”

  “Good.” I looked down at Emma. “Done?”

  She smiled. “Yes. For now.”

  I closed the first-aid kit and tossed it to Abigail.

  It hit her on the chest and fell to the floor.

  “Ow,” she said, jumping back.

  “Pick that up and let’s get going.”

  “Is… there anything else I can do?” Abigail asked, eyes fixed on my crotch.

  Emma pointed at my feet. “You can get him some socks and boots.”

  11

  Kitted out in a ninja suit and hiking boots, a short sword in my right hand, and bear spray in my left, I was ready for all comers as we exited the apartment.

  I probably looked a bit funny in my hiking boots and ninja suit, with bear spray and sword, but I didn’t give a damn.

  Every doorway we passed on the way to the stairs I expected to burst open and some kind of monster to come out after us.

  But we made it past all of them to the stairs, then down to the ground floor.

  Where we repeated the process.

  No door sprung open, no monster leapt out at us, and I wondered if anyone in the building was even home.

  Other than the sound of Emma’s Prius being knocked over, the night had been silent since we’d arrived.

  “My truck’s this way,” Abigail said once we reached the parking lot.

  My attention kept getting drawn to her ass. She was wearing tight jeans, and I had to force myself to pay attention to my surroundings, and not just what was in front of my eyes.

  All I needed was three minutes alone, and I could clear my mind.

  Or three minutes not alone. That would clear my mind even more effectively.

  I forced myself to scan the area, looking for any signs of whatever it had been that had knocked the truck and car over.

  “Poor Betsy,” Emma said as we passed her decommissioned Prius, patting one of the headlights.

  “Is there anything in there you need?”

  She shook her head, then stopped. “Actually, there might be.”

  “Where’s your truck?” I asked Abigail.

  She pointed, and I saw it sticking out above a row of cars that remained undamaged.

  It looked lifted, and it had a camper shell.

  This was getting better and better.

  “Okay, go load the stuff in there. We’ll be right behind you.”

  She looked at her truck, the distance she’d have to walk to it, then back to me. “Why do I feel like I’m about to become the dumb blonde in horror movies that always dies first?”

  “It’s a good thing you’re not blonde then. I don’t think a redhead has ever died in a horror movie.”

  “I’m gonna pretend you’re right about that.”

  I helped Emma lift the hatch on her car, which briefly scraped against the ground before lifting to the side, due to the car being on its side.

  While she dug around, I noticed parts of the driver’s front and rear doors—which were facing the sky right now—besides being clawed, looked partially disintegrated.

  “K, now we can go.” She was holding a backpack.

  “So what’s in there?” I asked as we headed to Abigail’s truck. I didn’t see her, and I hoped she hadn’t gotten eaten in the thirty seconds it took Emma to get her backpack.

  I’d heard the truck door open and shut, so she was probably in the truck. I even thought I saw a shock of red in the truck’s cab. It was too dark to tell for sure, however.

  “My medical books. I’m going to med school. Well, planning on it. I’m studying for it right now.”

  “So why did you need them?”

  “Because I’m studying to be a doctor, not actually one. And you were stabbed thirty-seven times.”

  “Thirty-eight.”

  “That’s right. They got you in the thigh.”

  “Damn close to my crotch. Too damn close.” In truth, that stab was probably the one that drove my rationality away and got them killed—I hadn’t known about the aliens yet and that in a few short days I would be out of prison, so I didn’t know my actions wouldn’t matter, that I wouldn’t spend another however many years in there for killing them. I had simply lost hold of rationality.

  I had reacted.

  Four-on-one is hard for anyone to deal with. My only advantage was I was trained, and they weren’t. But they were all large, and strong, and determined.

  Maybe the one who’d done it had been going for my femora
l and not my balls, but either way it had been a mistake.

  The fact that a shank had come within inches of my jewels was enough to drive me into an uncontrolled fury, a killing machine with no mercy.

  Action, not reaction. Hah, what do you know? I thought bitterly. I was still alive because I’d reacted.

  Abigail was indeed fine, and already in the driver’s seat when we reached her truck.

  I opened the door and stared at her.

  She looked at me. “What?”

  “Scoot over sweetie, I’m driving.”

  “It’s my truck.”

  I glared at her.

  “Fine,” she said with a sigh. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted over to the passenger seat. Emma climbed in the backseat, the truck being a four-door crew cab.

  “So where are we headed, O fearless leader?” Abigail asked sarcastically.

  “Emma said something about your family’s farm? That’s a good start. Get away from people.”

  “The farm is an hour-and-a-half away.”

  “Oh,” I said, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about you?” I asked Emma. “Any family farms nearby? Or anything out of the way?”

  Emma shook her head. “None of my family’s from around here.”

  “How you end up in Ohio then?”

  “Long story.”

  “Fair enough.” I couldn’t think of any other place to go. The prison was defensible, but it had already been overrun.

  I turned on the radio, and scanned through the channels until I got a news report.

  We listened to reporters tell people to stay in their houses or get to an evacuation center. And to stay calm.

  If you had to tell people to stay calm, you’d already lost.

  I shook my head. “Go somewhere where there’s hundreds of people. That’s a great idea.”

  “At least we wouldn’t be alone,” Abigail said.

  “We won’t be alone where we’re headed either,” I replied, coming to a decision. It might be a long drive, but it was worth the risk. “Unless your family’s not at their farm.”

  “They’re there. They’re always there.”