Pestilence: A Post-Apocalyptic Reverse Harem Series (The Calling Series Book 1)
Kim Faulks
Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.
- Revelation 6:1-2
1
December 25, 2020
Dad used to tell me all great changes are preceded by chaos. It’s how I used to fall asleep…listening to the screams outside.
I remind myself of that as I look at what’s left of my world. But the question still haunts me—the one that went hand in hand with that special kind of wisdom…
Is this the great change he talked about? Or was this still the chaos?
I used to think about that a lot. Now, I just try not to think.
I lifted my head to the howl of wind as it tore along the street at St Martin’s Plaza. It was a howl of vengeance, a howl of rage—one I felt to my soul. I hunkered in the shadows under the torn metal sheeting, waiting for a break in the slick shit that fell from the sky.
I hated this place. Hated what was left of this world. Hated what I’d become. Gone was the stupid girl who cared about clothes, and make-up, and my terrified first days of college.
That was over three years ago—if I counted right. Three long years alone.
Those things seemed so petty now. I lifted my hand to the weathered skin on my cheek. None of those things would keep me alive—none would keep me safe—none would bring back my family, or my friends.
None would change the person I’d become. The real me…the end of the world me.
This me was a scavenger, a hoarder. I broke into people’s homes and rifled through their things. I stole food, soap, books to read and blankets when the cold nights came. I stole everything I could carry—and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
I was alone, and had been alone for a long time now. I wanted to leave, but leaving meant I’d leave my home, and everything I knew, behind.
I stared at the dark steps of the subway station. I couldn’t leave—not yet—not physically, at least.
But I could with my mind.
I could escape the memories, and the voices.
I could use whatever I had to just sleep and not dream…just this once. Just this day.
Harlow, are you coming?
I shook my head. Not yet. Please, not yet. I wasn’t ready. The slow, rhythmic thud of my heart picked up pace. My hand went for the crook of my elbow, an ache flared, spearing deeper than a needle ever could. I needed to get underground, needed to…numb the voices.
Thick golden clouds shone above. Their bellies were bright and perfect, but the edges were stained with gray and steeped with poison and hate—and it was all our doing.
Genetically modified.
DNA enhanced.
The Government became the almighty power. They bent nature—they harnessed energy. They created Heaven on earth, so they said. But the lightning rod they held became a gateway. First came the storms, then the floods, and then the blinding sun so hot it burned cars to the roads along with the people trapped in them.
Droughts and floods gave way to desperation. The more we turned to the Government, the more they took control…and then came the plague.
It swept across the nation in chilling waves and consumed all. The black disease was unlike any other. One they couldn’t control. One they couldn’t stop.
They tried.
I lifted my gaze to what was left of them trying. The words CDC were splashed across the faded banners—Centers for Disease Control.
But there was no saving anyone at all.
First it took my Mom, and then my sister, Sarah, until Dad and I were the only ones left.
We tried to get out, tried to find our way to Grandma Hilly and Poppa Joe. But there was no leaving—not once they barricaded the city…not once those left behind became a law unto themselves and called themselves The Mighty.
So we returned home. We survived. We hid and we hated. We stole and suffered. Those who remained alive didn’t come outside anymore. Not for food—not even for shelter.
But those who did come out here, those who braved the streets were searching…searching for peace. Searching for purpose. Or Nirvana.
All the horror, all those lost. We did this. We’d brought this on ourselves.
The gutted shops blurred into the background as I stepped out of the darkness and into the light. There was no going back now—I glanced at the high windows—others would be watching from up there in their towers.
Others like me who knew only one law—the only one that ever mattered…
Survival.
I drove my boot into the cracked asphalt and stepped over the curb. The gust snagged a piece of paper from somewhere and slammed it against the green paint-chipped pole in front of me.
Book of Revelations was splashed in perfect print along the top.
I stared at the crisp white paper and kept on moving.
Revelations…somewhere I’d heard that word before.
My boot kicked the uneven edges of the asphalt where the whip grass shot high in thick green tufts. I pitched forward, steps stuttering, heart hammering, before I regained my footing and found the first stair to the subway station.
The darkness rose as I sank into the shadows, swallowing my legs, my waist…my chest. There was a moment of panic, as the inky void stole my sight and the world blurred into nothing.
But nothing was what I wanted, wasn’t it? Nothing was why I left the safety of my home. It’s why I left clean water and a stockpile of food.
I left it all to come here. Because this was where you found Nirvana.
The thud of my boots echoed, rebounding against the walls to slam into me. I stilled long enough to glance over my shoulder to the golden glow above.
Night would come fast, and steal the light. But it didn’t matter.
We were already in darkness—already waiting for the end of it all.
The muffled cry of a woman echoed long and sorrowful. It was a background track to every night, and every day. One that’d been on repeat for the last three years.
One I knew well.
Harlow? Doncha know what day it is?
I ignored that voice, eased against the railing and followed the stairs all the way to the bottom. Black on black moved, shadows against a midnight world. There was a snuff, a breath. I blinked, waited for my eyes to adjust and pushed forward.
He leaned against the wall to the platform, one leg kicked high, sole flat against the wall. I caught the turn of his head as I moved closer, and the wisp of long dark hair from under his hoodie. He knew why I was here. It was the same reason everyone came here—to escape.
“Whadda ya got?”
I licked my lips, my right hand curled tight around the can, leaving the small cans hidden deep within my pockets. “Food, a can…not opened—you can check for yourself.”