Extinction Level Event (Book 2): Immune [The Hunted] Read online

  ☣

  Extinction Level Event

  ☣　Immune: The Hunted ☣

  Book 2

  Viral Apocalyptic and Post-Apocalyptic Survival Fiction

  AJ Newman

  .

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  Acknowledgments

  This book is dedicated to Patsy, my beautiful wife of thirty-six years, who assists with everything from Beta reading to censor duties. She enables me to write, golf, and enjoy my life with her and our mob of Shih Tzu’s.

  Thanks to Patsy, Wes, Richard, David, Richard, and Cheryl, who are Beta readers for this novel. They gave many suggestions that helped improve the cover and readability of my book.

  Thanks to Sabrina Jean at Fasttrackediting for proofreading and editing this novel.

  Thanks to WMHCheryl at http://wmhcheryl.com/services-for-authors/ for the great final proofreading and suggestions on improving the accuracy and helping me to tell a better story.

  Thanks to Christian at Covers by Christian for the fantastic cover.

  AJ Newman

  Copyright © 2020 Anthony J Newman. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All events, names, characters, and places are the product of the author’s imagination or are used as a fictitious event. That means I thought up this whole book from my imagination, and nothing in it is true.

  All rights reserved. None of this publication may be copied or reproduced without prior written permission from the publisher.

  As they say on TV, don’t try anything you read in this novel. It’s all fiction and stuff I made up to entertain you. Buy some survival books if you want to learn how to survive in the apocalypse.

  Published by Newalk LLC.

  Henderson, Kentucky

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Books by AJ Newman

  About the Author

  ☣ 　Key Characters ☣

  Jon Stone – The main character of the series. A regular guy who was severely injured in a plane crash years ago, only to find himself in an apocalypse caused by a pandemic.

  Bo – A golden retriever who became Jon’s dog. Bo found Jon during the early days of the pandemic and adopted him. The virus killed Bo’s owners.

  Barbara Payne – Jon’s new girlfriend and ex-CDC research scientist. She left the rogue CDC unit when she found out about their diabolical plans.

  Jill Scott – A policewoman and ex-military from Nevada who saved Jon from the CDC bounty hunters and joined him to survive.

  Jack Stone – Jon’s dad. An experienced sailor and pilot. Ex-military before Jon was born. Lives with Jon’s old girlfriend.

  Cindy Dame – Jon’s ex-girlfriend, who was his nurse years ago and now, is his dad’s girlfriend.

  Gina Leland – Jill’s girlfriend and a woman with a dark secret.

  Charlie Payne – Barbara’s father and a doomsday prepper.

  Betty Payne – Barbara’s mom and a nurse.

  “Granny” Jane Payne – Barbara’s paternal grandmother and a strong-willed character with a mind of her own.

  Samantha – Jon’s Artificially Intelligent companion and is an advanced robotic controlled vehicle that has a sassy attitude.

  The Virus – A new strain of Coronavirus with Ebola DNA spliced into its genetic makeup. It was developed in a Russian bioweapons laboratory. The host is contagious after three days and starts hemorrhaging at two weeks. Blood flows from their eyes, ears, and mouth until they die at about four weeks.

  Chapter 1

  Anclote Key – September 2038

  She stood still, letting the flies and mosquitoes bite her in silence. Sweat rolled down her forehead in rivulets. One drop found the corner of her eye and stung like a needle had pierced her cornea. She blinked several times but didn’t move a muscle. There it was again. The sound of a dry leaf being crushed underfoot and the noise of a man’s pants leg swishing against the other pants leg split the silence. Barbara heard him take a deep breath and knew he’d smelled the antiseptic wipes she carried.

  Barbara gasped when she saw the bloodshot eyes and blood trickling from the man’s face. He was about fifty years old with rotten teeth and was rough looking. He’d been ridden hard and put up wet even before the apocalypse. He was unsteady on his feet and headed toward her. This told her the man had been infected for about two weeks and contagious for around eleven days. She froze and watched him move cautiously through the brush as though he was searching for someone. He looked over his shoulder constantly and had a gun in one hand and a hunting knife in the other. She could hear him incoherently mumbling about life before the crap hit the fan.

  She’d made a wrong turn in the thick brush, and Jon had disappeared ahead of her. The brush and briars had scratched Barbara’s bare arms and legs, but all she could think of was this new danger. The infected man scared the crap out of her, not because of the virus, because Barbara was one of the lucky ones who’d become immune to the horrible illness and even worse death. She was afraid of his knife and other germs he carried. She remained frozen in a crouch for fear of being discovered. A spasm made her leg shake, and the charley horse made her shift all her weight to her right foot. A twig snapped. The man’s head snapped around, and he stared her in the eyes. They were only a few feet apart, and she was crouched down, so he towered above her.

  “My, my, such a sweet young thing,” he said, but then noticed she didn’t have any symptoms and added, “You don’t have the disease.”

  He holstered his pistol and pointed the large hunting knife at her. “When I’m done with you, you will also be dying from this shit. Take your clothes off now.”

  Barbara looked up at the man and couldn’t help but focus on his rotten yellow teeth. He moved closer. A drop of blood fell from his nose and hit her arm. She was terrified but kept her composure. She unbuttoned her blouse and said, “I haven’t been with a man in so many months. Drop your pants, and I’ll put a smile on your face.”

  She smiled when he stuck his knife into a tree beside him. He unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall. “Now, missy.”

  The man was so eager to satisfy his lust that he didn’t see the knife hidden behind her. Barbara moved a little closer, placed her left hand around him, and pulled him closer when she thrust upward with the blade ripping into his stomach. She rose using all of the power she had in her legs, still cutting upward with the knife. The man stood there, dying, and his blood pooled at his feet. His body was only standing due to Barbara’s blade and her anger giving her enormous strength. She dropped her arm and allowed him to fall into the pool of his blood in the dirt.

  Barbara drew her foot back and crushed the man’s face with a swift kick. She pulled back for another kick when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around knife in the air to kill the next asshat. The man’s arm blocked her thrust, and he grabbed, pulling her to him.

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  Barbara had been the youngest Doctor of Immunology on the staff at the CDC in Atlanta when she’d had to flee because a rogue group had taken over. She was a short redhead with green eyes and a smile that
disarmed everyone who met her. She was a brilliant student and one of the best in her branch of immunology, but a bit backward socially. Books had taken up most of her time in high school and college. She’d never dressed like the other young women her age, but even without makeup and wearing lab coats and glasses couldn’t keep men from noticing her beauty. She’d been raised in the country and could ride horses and shoot with the best of the men. When she’d left the farm, she’d thought her brains would be all she’d need to get through life. Now, she used her survival skills, along with her education, to stay alive.

  “Barb, it’s me, Jon. You’re safe. Please don’t stab me.”

  Barbara had been in a blind rage, and it took a few seconds to realize the man wasn’t attacking her. He was her friend and lover, Jon Stone.

  “Jon, you scared the dickens out of me. I could have killed you! Why didn’t you say something so I would’ve known you were behind me?”

  “Babe, I did. I called your name several times, but you were too busy gutting that zombie asshole.”

  She started to hug Jon, but he held her bloody arm away with one hand. “Hon, I think you need to wash up a bit. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you faster. The bastard’s pants are around his feet. Did he …”

  “He wanted to, but hell no! I tricked him into losing his knife and then shared my knife with him. Let’s find the others. There must be more like him on the island.”

  “Let’s go down to the beach so I can wash this crap off my hands. Thank God, we’re immune. The prick planned to give me a dose of his bodily fluids to make sure I died with him.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “No. But, I’ll have to do until I have time to cry.”

  Jon had been one of the first people identified to be immune to the virus. He’d been camping alone out in Oregon for several weeks when the virus had decimated the country. He wasn’t an ex-soldier or survival expert, but he was quick-witted and had adapted well to the new normal. Killing hadn’t come easy to him, but he did what he had to do to survive. Rogue scientists had found that an immune person’s blood could make others immune. The powerful and elite people had wanted Jon’s blood to make themselves immune. They’d wanted all of Jon’s blood. Jon wasn’t going to let them hurt his family or himself to satisfy their own needs.

  Her hands were covered in the rotten-toothed man’s blood. It left streaks of crimson that were quickly turning to a darker, deeper red. The stuff was diluted by the water but clung to her skin. Barbara washed her hands the best she could until the red was gone and then scrubbed some more. Then she took some Lysol disinfecting wipes from a baggie and wiped her hands and arms with the wipes. Jon said, “I know you make all of us carry our baggie of Lysol wipes, but do they really kill viruses? Hell, we’re both immune. We just need to remove the blood and get on with life.”

  “First, we don’t want to carry the virus to any non-immune people. Second, the wipes will kill H1N1, Herpes Simplex virus 1, Influenza H7 N0, Human Coronavirus, and most bacteria on non-porous surfaces. They beat the hell out of doing nothing. Washing your hands in soapy water for half a minute is about the best method. Do you see any soapy water?”

  “Okay, I’ll find some of those small hotel-sized soaps for us to add to our backpacks.”

  Jon looked at his golden retriever, Bo, and said, “Go find Jill.”

  Bo took off at a fast walk, and they strode through the brush and tall grass to rejoin their friends. A few minutes later, Jon saw Jill and Gina and caught their attention. Jill reached down and clamped her hands around Bo’s muzzle. “Jon, there are some people about fifty yards east of us. They’re getting close to the dock.”

  Jon whispered, “I’ll take a look.”

  Jill was Jon’s best friend, well, except for his girlfriend, Barbara. Jill was a year or two older than Jon was and had been a military and then civilian police officer before the shit hit the fan. She was a tall thin muscular woman with raven black hair who had trouble keeping her opinions to herself. She was a brazen hussy who’d killed in the war and was as tough as a pine knot. She wanted to be more feminine but always failed. She had saved Jon’s life when the immunity bounty hunters had captured him. Since then, he’d saved her life a couple of times as she had his. Her parents lived close to Lubbock, Texas, and she always pushed Jon to help her get to Texas.

  Jon pushed Barbara back into the bushes when he saw the group of strangers walking toward the Beaver floatplane with his dad and Cindy. Jon said, “Get down. There are people out by the dock.”

  Jon raised his binoculars and saw his dad had taxied the floatplane away from the dock to a safe distance. He scanned the dozen or so people and found a mixture of men, women, and a couple of kids. The six men were armed, and all appeared to be healthy. Then Jon’s skin crawled when he saw blood running from the eyes and nose of a young girl. They were infected.

  The virus was a genetically engineered coronavirus with DNA spliced in from the Ebola virus. This mix gave it a fast contagion rate and the hemorrhagic symptoms with bleeding from all orifices. The Russians had chosen this strain of coronavirus for the base to design a new, more deadly virus. The various strains of coronavirus had been killing hundreds of thousands of people throughout the previous decade but were always defeated by modern science. The Russians wanted a first-strike weapon to use against the Chinese that would spread undetected and have a high mortality rate. They didn’t care about the rest of the world and knew they were safe because they’d developed a vaccine for their people. Their plan had worked until the virus mutated and decimated them as well as the rest of the world.

  This virus spread throughout the lungs at an unprecedented rate. Then, in one to two days, the virus was spread by sneezes and coughs. People had no symptoms for five to seven days but were contagious after two days. Hence, the virus spread unnoticed until it was too late. The death rate was over ninety-five percent and quickly killed billions. The only large pockets of uninfected people were several countries’ elites in shelters and military people on ships and remote bases around the world. The rest of the world went through rioting, fighting for survival, and horrible deaths. The infected were treated like zombies in the old zombie movies and were killed on sight by the non-infected. Then there were the immunes, which only made up a tiny fraction of the world population. They were being hunted for their blood, which could give immunity to others. The problem was – the others wanted all of the immune person’s blood.

  Jon had received his immunity thanks to surviving a horrible plane crash that killed his friends. Synthetic blood had been transfused into him to save his life. The lifesaving artificial blood had also given him the ability to pass on immunity to others. Jill had also had her life saved with synthetic blood making her another potential donor.

  Jon whispered to the others, “A girl has the advanced symptoms, but the others don’t have the bloody faces.”

  Barbara took the binoculars. “Damn, she’s in the second stage and has probably been contagious for a week. All of them are going to be dead in two to three weeks. What are we going to do, Jon?”

  “Wait, the man wearing the baseball cap just raised …”

  Jon leveled his .30-.06 deer rifle, took a deep breath, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. The man dropped, but not before getting a shot off at the plane. The plane’s engine roared to life, and the 1966 de Havilland Canada DHC-2 Beaver soared into the air. He saw the other men waving at the others to drop. He couldn’t hear what they yelled but could only imagine their surprise at being shot at from behind. Jon picked off another man when he raised his head to search for where the bullets had originated.

  Jill had a towheaded boy in her crosshairs but didn’t shoot. The kid looked like one of the actors on her favorite TV show. “Jon, what are we going to do now? Jack can’t land and pick us up until we eliminate these walking dead asshats.”

  Jo replied, “We’ll have to smoke them out and kill anyone with a weapon. Men, women, and children are a t
hreat. One wild shot could wreck the plane.”

  Barbara cried out, “Surely, you wouldn’t shoot the kids!”

  “Hon, if we can’t get all of their weapons from them, then yes, we’ll have to kill them all. I hate it, but it’s our survival or theirs, and they’re already dying.”

  ☣☣☣

  Jon’s dad, Jack, had commandeered the six-passenger floatplane during a trip to Key West a month earlier. The de Havilland Canada DHC-2 Beaver had been manufactured seventy-one years ago. It had a range of four hundred and fifty-five miles and could carry two thousand pounds, which included the passenger weight. It had been updated several times over the years and recently had a new navigation system added. It had the GPS and autopilot hardware and software added a year ago after a complete rebuild of the airframe and engine.

  In his late fifties, Jack was a trim and fit man with good looks and a charming personality. He looked much younger than his years and had been very active in retirement before the end of the world. Jon’s mom had been killed during their escape from a gang that had taken over the small community where they’d lived for years. This had left Jack and Jon’s girlfriend, Cindy, to fight for survival together for several months on a deserted island in the Florida Keys. They’d fallen in love or lust, which didn’t sit well with Jon at first.

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  Jack yelled, “Hold on! We’re taking off.”

  Cindy steeled herself for a crash. She was scared but felt safe in Jack’s hands. Jack heard the bullet impact the plane but was relieved when the engine continued to roar while the plane raised high into the air. Jack steered the plane east in a sharp turn and then back north to make it difficult for the attackers to shoot the aircraft again. Cindy saw the strangers were on the ground between the ocean and the raised boardwalk. She only had a glance but thought she saw two men lying in the sand.