Chapter 1 — The Dead
The first thing Victor felt was heat.
The second was weight.
Something heavy lay across his chest, pinning him down. He tried to move and found that his arms had barely enough room to bend.
He opened his eyes.
Darkness.
Not complete darkness.
There was a dull orange glow somewhere above him, flickering through gaps between whatever was covering him.
He tried to breathe.
Smoke filled his lungs.
Victor coughed.
The movement sent pain through his ribs.
He coughed again, harder this time, and something wet ran into his mouth.
He spat it out.
Blood.
For several seconds he simply lay there, staring into the narrow strip of orange light above him.
His mind searched for an explanation.
Nothing came.
No name.
No place.
No memory of how he had gotten here.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Who am I?
The question produced nothing but a strange emptiness.
His pulse quickened.
He forced himself to move.
His right hand pushed against the weight on his chest.
It didn't move.
He pushed harder.
The thing above him shifted slightly.
Something fell against his cheek.
Soft.
Cold.
Victor froze.
His fingers touched it.
Skin.
He grabbed the object and pushed it away.
A face appeared above him.
A man's face.
His eyes were closed.
His skin was gray.
His throat had been torn open.
Victor stared at him.
For one long second, his mind refused to understand what he was seeing.
Then the smell reached him.
Rot.
Burning flesh.
Smoke.
Blood.
He gagged.
He shoved the corpse away with both hands.
The body rolled off him and disappeared into the darkness around him.
Victor sucked in a breath.
The air tasted like ash.
He pushed upward.
Another body.
Then another.
They were everywhere.
Bodies pressed against his shoulders, his legs, his back.
Some were clothed.
Some weren't.
Some were burned beyond recognition.
Others looked almost untouched.
Victor forced his way through them.
His hands slipped repeatedly.
He didn't look at what covered them.
He didn't want to know.
He just needed to get out.
Something inside him screamed that he needed to get out now.
He didn't know why.
But he trusted it.
He pushed another body aside.
Light spilled across his face.
He reached upward.
His fingers found the edge of something.
He pulled.
Nothing.
He pulled again.
The weight shifted.
Victor dug his elbows into the corpses beneath him and pushed with everything he had.
A body slid away.
Then another.
He saw the sky.
Black.
Cloudless.
Orange light flickered against it.
Victor stared upward.
Then he understood why.
The world around him was burning.
He dragged himself toward the opening.
His fingernails scraped against dirt.
He pulled himself free.
And collapsed.
For several seconds he couldn't move.
He lay on his stomach, coughing violently.
Cold air entered his lungs.
Real air.
He rolled onto his back.
Above him, the night sky stretched endlessly.
He stared at it.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sky.
He couldn't remember seeing it at all.
The thought frightened him more than the bodies.
Victor slowly sat up.
His clothes were soaked in blood.
His hands were covered with it.
There was a deep cut along his left forearm.
Another wound crossed his abdomen.
He looked down.
The wounds were ugly.
But they weren't bleeding as much as they should have been.
He touched the cut on his arm.
His fingers came away red.
He stared at them.
Then looked around.
The graveyard was enormous.
Not a cemetery.
A mass grave.
A long depression in the earth stretched farther than he could see, packed with bodies.
Thousands of them.
Perhaps more.
Fires burned along its length.
Some were small.
Others had grown into towering columns of flame.
Smoke crawled across the ground.
Bodies crackled in the fire.
A hand protruded from one pile.
A boot from another.
A face stared upward through the flames.
Victor stood.
His knees nearly gave out.
He caught himself.
He didn't know where he was.
He didn't know who had done this.
He didn't know why there were thousands of dead people around him.
He didn't even know—
His thoughts stopped.
He looked down at himself again.
"Who am I?"
Nothing.
He tried to remember his parents.
Nothing.
His home.
Nothing.
His job.
Nothing.
Friends.
Nothing.
A face.
A voice.
A name.
Nothing.
Panic began creeping into his chest.
He pressed both hands against his temples.
"Think."
His voice sounded unfamiliar.
He swallowed.
"Think."
Nothing.
The wind carried a low sound across the graveyard.
Victor looked up.
For the first time, he noticed the silence.
There were no insects.
No birds.
No distant traffic.
Nothing.
Just fire.
And the soft shifting of thousands of bodies as the wind moved across them.
He took one step.
Then another.
His bare feet sank into warm ash.
He looked down.
He wasn't wearing shoes.
His trousers were torn.
His shirt was blackened and soaked through.
There was a dark band around his left wrist.
A mark.
He rubbed it.
Pain shot through his arm.
Victor stopped.
The mark looked almost like a burn.
A circle crossed by three thin lines.
He had no idea what it meant.
He kept walking.
He needed water.
A road.
A phone.
Anything.
Civilization.
He didn't know why the thought of civilization felt so distant.
He climbed a small ridge beside the grave.
From there, he could see farther.
The grave extended across an enormous stretch of land.
At the far end stood several ruined structures.
Concrete.
Metal.
Something that looked like the remains of a warehouse.
Beyond that—
Nothing.
Victor turned slowly.
His eyes moved across the burning dead.
Then stopped.
One body was different.
It lay several meters away from the others.
Victor stared.
Something about it felt wrong.
The corpse was enormous.
Even from a distance, he could tell.
Its arms were too long.
Its shoulders were too broad.
The clothes covering it had been shredded.
Victor took a cautious step toward it.
Then another.
He didn't know why he was approaching.
Perhaps because he needed answers.
Perhaps because some part of him already knew the answer would be terrible.
He crouched beside the body.
It was a man.
At least, it had once been.
Victor stared at the hands.
The fingers were thick.
The nails were black.
Long.
Almost claw-like.
He moved toward the face.
The corpse's mouth was partially open.
There were teeth.
Too many.
Victor pulled back.
His breathing became shallow.
"No."
He stood.
He had just taken a step backward when he heard something.
A noise.
Behind him.
Victor turned.
Nothing.
The fires continued burning.
The corpses remained still.
He waited.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
There.
Again.
A faint scraping sound.
Not from the grave.
From behind him.
Victor slowly turned his head.
The corpse he'd been examining was no longer where he'd left it.
His stomach dropped.
He looked around.
Nothing.
Then—
A sound came from beneath the bodies.
A wet inhale.
Victor stepped backward.
The pile moved.
Once.
Twice.
Something underneath them shifted.
Victor's instincts screamed at him to run.
He did.
He didn't look back.
He ran down the slope, stumbling through ash and corpses.
Behind him came a sound that did not belong to anything human.
A deep, guttural growl.
Victor ran faster.
His lungs burned.
His legs shook.
He didn't know where he was going.
He didn't care.
He jumped over a burning body.
Something slammed into the ground behind him.
The impact threw dirt against his back.
Victor fell.
He rolled.
Pain exploded through his shoulder.
He looked up.
For the first time, he saw it.
The creature stood twenty meters away.
It was shaped like a man.
But only from a distance.
Its body was covered in patches of dark, matted hair.
Its arms hung almost to its knees.
Its head was bowed.
Its fingers dug into the earth.
Victor couldn't see its face.
Then it lifted its head.
Two pale eyes looked directly at him.
Victor stopped breathing.
The creature opened its mouth.
And smiled.
There was blood between its teeth.
Victor scrambled backward.
The creature took one step toward him.
Victor turned.
Ran.
Behind him, something roared.
And the chase began.