A World Fallen
Nicholas Lawrence Carter
Copyright © 2020 Nicholas Lawrence Carter
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 9798648418851
Imprint: Independently published
NLCARTERWRITES.COM
Cover design by: Mark Thomas
Printed in the United States of America
For my mother. My hero.
A very special thank you to Stacy McDaniel, Corey Batts, and Hilton Brannan.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Afterword
CHAPTER ONE
The two figures just outside the brush in front of them move slowly. Their clothes are dirty and torn, their hands tremble, and they walk carelessly. These creatures are diseased. Their humanity has long since perished. There is no question of this. To Rosaline it is a fact. Her mind speeds through her options, “Ambush them? Wait patiently for them to pass? Are there more nearby? Will an ambush alert the others? Will the others find us hiding?”
“Shhh.” she says as she covers her lips with her finger, staring intently at the young boy. Mikey is only five years old, but his years with her on the move have matured him more than any five year old should be. He’s bright for such a young child, and he listens to her every word. For Rosaline this is what is most important. If they are to continue surviving out here on their own he must follow her every command.
She isn’t always sure of herself or of her decisions, but the six years she spent alone raising herself out in the wild among the diseased, after her mother and sister died, have taught her to act quickly and not to dwell.
Before she took up the responsibility of raising Mikey these questions would have never entered her mind. She would’ve swiftly killed these two in front of her. Rosaline is small, yet nimble and resourceful. Growing up from ages nine to fifteen on your own, fighting for every day not to be your last, will hardened a person, and to say it has hardened her would be an understatement.
She could attempt to distract them by throwing a rock opposite their position, however, if they are Adapted their attention will be directed to the source of this throw and not its impact. She hasn't heard them speak, but she can’t know for sure. It has already been twenty seconds of pondering. Far too long for her liking.
Rosaline motions her hand to the ground, indicating to Mikey to lay down, and he promptly does as instructed. She opens her backpack and retrieves her goggles, gloves, and a claw hammer. The goggles are important to ensure no blood gets in her eyes and the gloves keep her hands clean. Can never be too safe.
She gently places her backpack on the ground next to Mikey and picks up a rock. She slowly moves forward to the edge of the brush. She throws the rock. It connects with a tree next to the diseased. They spin around following the sound. They are not Adapted, at least not fully. This is the best news she could’ve hoped for.
She keeps low and rushes from her position. She is quick and precise. Her first swing connects with the back of the knee bringing the diseased to the ground. In one fluid motion she brings the hammer back up, spins it, and buries the claw end deep into its skull. The infected collapses, laying prone on the green.
She unsheathes the hunting knife on her belt as the other diseased turns its attention to her. Before she is even in full view her knife is lodged fully under its jaw and into its brain. The hammer, in the first one, is wedged in deep. She places her foot on its back and pulls the hammer from its skull.
“That was quite a show.” these terrifying words come from behind her.
She whirls around to see two more men and a woman exiting the tree line and entering into the small clearing she is in. These things are either Adapted or regular people. She's not sure which would be more dangerous right now.
“Are you alone?”
They aren’t aware of Mikey, that makes this easier. Rosaline accesses her surroundings, her eyes hastily darting around the landscape. There is a stump to her left and nothing else of real value around her.
“There’s nowhere to run.”
She is already tiring of this things voice. “Are you alone?” That’s always what they ask. Over and over again. “Are you alone?” usually followed by the false promise of “I can help you.” This one is one of the more advanced, using logic at a higher level than most of the monsters she's come across. She grits her teeth. “No matter, they'll all die just the same.” she thinks, as she studies the three creatures in front of her.
They continue to inch closer to her, but she’s already sized them up. The non-talkers aren’t very big, but nearly everyone is bigger than her. The bald one lags just a bit behind the other two. That one is the weakest, it’ll be last.
The Adapted puts a hand out to Rosaline, “We can help you.” it says.
There it is. The greatest hits. Rosaline takes her stance, putting the knife out forward and holding the hammer at head level. Rosaline stares directly into the eyes of the Adapted.
“Let’s get
