The Tainted Read online

  “Something that will twist you up, so you can’t remember up from down,” Jessy chirped from the front seat. “No worries. You’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

  “You’re all sad excuses for human beings,” she hissed.

  “Don’t be like that,” Aaron crooned.

  He wavered, and she found herself grabbing for his shirt to steady herself. She snatched her hands back as soon as she realized what she’d done. Aaron grabbed them and held them tightly against his chest.

  Hazel stared at him with all the disgust and loathing swirling inside her. “It doesn’t matter what story you spin, I will never marry you. My father will always believe me. You think me being high will change your bloody outcome?” A hysterical laugh bubbled out of her. “You’re a dead man walking.”

  He stayed silent and her wavering gaze slid to Gen’s hand. It was perched on Aaron’s shoulder, drawing a pattern along his neck. She didn’t know why she fixated on the movement, but it struck her as odd after Aaron’s comment earlier. If he didn’t like her, why was he allowing her to caress him like a lover?

  She glanced at him and stared resolutely back. He would pay.

  He shook his head slowly at her, almost looking sad. “I was wrong about you, and so was your father. You’re just like your mother. Too much like her.”

  “How do you know about my mother?” she asked, her words garbled.

  “Goodbye, Hazel.”

  “Wha...?” Her breath whooshed out when he shoved a hard hand against her chest.

  For one breathless moment, she was airborne, her gaze locked with Aaron’s. He didn’t blink, and neither did she. Shock, anger, and betrayal passed between them in that moment. Time sped up and one long screech was all she emitted before her body collided with the ground. The impact had her gasping for breath that wouldn’t come. Nor could she scream from the acute pain that crashed into her, wave after wave, as she skidded across the desert floor.

  Abruptly, her body slammed into something, stopping her tumbling. She wheezed as tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes, her lungs screaming for air. Panic had her trying to sit up, only to slam back to the rough sand when the world spun around her.

  The sky swirled and then darkened as one last thought went through her mind.

  It wasn’t the Tainted she needed to be worried about; it was the human monsters.

  Two

  The End

  The world ended in 2126.

  Prior to that time, the world was divided in many directions. People preached equality and love, and yet, nobody practiced it. Not really. Every country, every nation, every race, every tribe was broken. Families split apart because of differences of opinion they couldn’t resolve. Hatred spread everywhere.

  But mankind wasn’t only killing each other; they were slowly killing the Earth and abusing its resources. As each year passed, the available resources for human survival dwindled to almost nothing.

  Tensions among people and nations rose to an all-time high. Shootings, bombings, crime, malnutrition, and death ran rampant across the world. The U.S. estimated that in a handful of years, there wouldn’t be enough resources to support a quarter of the world’s population. They knew what this would lead to—war.

  Nuclear warfare was not an option. They couldn’t risk ruining what was left of the resources. To combat threats other countries posed, the government tasked the biological warfare laboratories to create a solution.

  In the year 2020, they founded a lab in the deserts of Nevada and handpicked a team of scientists to work on the project. Their primary objective was to create a weapon that would deteriorate human DNA. In 2025, they succeeded in creating a weapon that did just that.

  At first, it appeared to work as expected. The test subjects’ DNA would be damaged, and the ability to replace cells would be compromised, causing them to die. It was a painful, bloody death, but in the face of global destruction, some things had to be sacrificed for the better good, or so the government told their scientists. Moral guidelines fell by the wayside.

  Next came the antivirus. There was no way to keep the virus from attacking its own people once it was released, so they had to be proactive. They disguised the antivirus as common flu vaccinations in the prior years leading up to WWIII and added it to the list of immunizations children were required to get when starting school.

  When WWIII did finally break out, the depravity and devastation were on a scale that made past wars look like nothing. Deadly viruses were released on the public, each more insidious than the last. But no one had prepared for the super-virus the Nevada bioweapon laboratory had created.

  When they finally released the virus, leaders around the world told civilians to prepare for the worst, each hoping that their countries would be passed over.

  Alliances crumbled, governments fractured, countries lost communication, and entire cities crumbled from riots and rebellions. In the end, there were little pockets of humanity left that formed communities, but even those were unsafe at best.

  The human race became an endangered species.

  The US thought they’d won, that they’d accomplished what none else had. They didn’t plan on the virus mutating. Their scientists had warned them there were risks when consorting with viruses. They weren’t easy to control, and they had a nasty habit of changing.

  Reports started flooding in of inoculated citizens dying. There were accounts of people changing in fantastical ways that boggled scientific minds.

  Scientists scrambled to figure out what went wrong. They acquired a sample of the new virus, and what they found was beyond anything they could comprehend. Survivors of the virus exhibited traits that would change the course of humanity. The mutated virus no longer attacked the DNA of an inoculated person but mutated the DNA. Suddenly, being inoculated didn’t mean you survived. It meant you changed. A large portion of the United States’ population died in the first year, because their body rejected the change.

  This both shocked and awed the scientists. They scrambled to create something, anything, to counteract the new virus, but nothing worked. The world fell into chaos and eventually darkness.

  This is the story that has been passed down from generation to generation. Over time, the virus seemed to die out, or maybe there weren’t any more victims to claim. Either way, the world was a dangerous new place filled with monsters and creatures that no one could understand.

  A new battle then began. The Tainted against the Untouched. Monsters versus humans. It was bloody and fostered deep-seated fear and prejudice.

  It was the true end of humanity.

  Three

  Hazel

  Hazel dug her spade into the ground and scowled at the weed that refused to budge. Stars above, she hated weeding.

  She’d wash dirty clothes and scrub every filthy toilet in the compound before she’d choose to weed, but being outside Harbor’s massive steel walls made it tolerable—barely. She brushed her damp hair from her face and sat back on her heels, her back screaming. She eyed the emerald carrot tops bursting from the red soil and sighed. There were worse lots in life. Her gaze passed over the secondary barbed-wire-topped fence that protected the farm from the rocky hills that surrounded their little valley. She could be living out there, running for her life from the bloodthirsty Tainted.

  She shivered despite the oppressive heat and glanced down at her dirt-caked nails. Things could definitely be worse. Hazel picked up a piece of her sweaty white-blond hair and inspected the sad lock. What she wouldn’t give for a proper bath. This spring and summer had been brutal, the worst in all of Harbor’s history. Lack of rain had caused many of the streams that wound through their land to dry up, which meant water rations were being cut.

  Dropping her hair, she stared just past the southern fence at the tree line, to where a brook hid in the copse of the trees. She’d discovered it on one of her nightly walks in the garden. Her father hated that she took walks so close to curfew, and sometimes after it, but he allowed i
t. She didn’t ask for much from him except a little peace and quiet from the whispers and rumors that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Truth be told, she was sure he was a little jealous when she’d escape the madness that always seemed to be brewing in their household. Four older brothers meant there was never a dull moment.

  She waved at Micah, the guard patrolling the fence in the distance. He stared at her but didn’t wave back. Hazel kept the smile on her face despite how brittle it felt. She wasn’t sure if it was because he took his duty so seriously or because he didn’t notice her. But deep down, she knew the truth. The only time someone noticed her was when they criticized or mocked her. She shook her head; there was nothing for it. She just had to double down and do the best possible with what was given her.

  Hazel took a swig from the canteen at her hip, lukewarm water coating her dry throat. Lukewarm water was the worst, but she was thankful she had any water in the first place. She frowned at her canteen as she capped it, water once again on her mind. It would’ve been brilliant if they could have diverted the stream from the forest to flood the crops, but infection was still too much of a risk. The airborne virus had died out over a hundred years ago, but not before it had mutated most human and animal life. No one could be sure what was safe these days. The water had to be run through a filtration system before it could be used and that took time. Not to mention the workers and guards they’d have to send outside the perimeter to divert the stream. It would put a lot of people at risk. She thought it would be worth it for water, but her papa said they weren’t that desperate. Yet.

  She closed her eyes and imagined, for what seemed like the millionth time, what it would look like. The water would be a clear, crisp blue that flowed over red sandstone, with round smooth pebbles at the edge. A smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. One day, she’d see it—that’s if her papa ever let her leave the compound. That wiped the smile from her face. He’d always been overprotective, but it had only gotten worse after Mama’s death. She didn’t fault him for wanting to protect his only daughter. He loved her, but it made things with the others … difficult.

  A breeze blew gently, and she grimaced as the scent of wet dirt filled her nose. She didn’t mind the smell so much as the hot air threatening to choke her. It was comical really; one would think a breeze would offset the heat beating down on her, but it made the heat worse. It was like having a heater blowing in her face.

  She lifted her shirt and wiped the sweat from her brow, then rubbed at the heated skin of her arms that looked a little pink. Time for more sunscreen. Unconsciously, her gaze wandered back to the forest edge just past the fence as she brushed her hands along her arms. She’d kill to go swimming right now.

  “Daydreaming again, Hazel?” a female voice sneered.

  Just the sound of Genevieve’s voice made her cringe. She dropped her eyes to her lap and picked up her small spade. Maybe if she ignored her, the hateful girl would leave her alone. She dug her spade into the ground and frowned when she heard footsteps approaching.

  Here we go.

  “Too good to answer me?” Genevieve asked.

  “Darn,” she grumbled under her breath. The girl wouldn’t go away until Hazel acknowledged her. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and it’s bloody hot,” she said, glancing up.

  The brunette beauty tossed her head and Hazel squinted at her shiny hair. How did she keep it so clean? Did she never sweat? No, she probably glistened. She fought a scowl. The girl always looked perfect. Hazel didn’t remember a time when Gen didn’t look like every male’s dream girl.

  She brushed another loose piece of white-blond hair out of her face and grimaced as her gritty fingers brushed across her forehead. Great. She probably had dirt smeared all over her face. Hazel blinked when she realized Genevieve was still speaking.

  “Have you no dignity?”

  She blinked at Gen and glanced around the acres of crops. “What does dignity have to do with weeding? I’m just doing my job like everyone else.”

  “You’re the founder’s daughter and yet, here you are playing around in the dirt instead of helping our people like they deserve.”

  Hazel rolled her eyes and began digging the weeds out from around the carrots. “Sure thing.”

  Gen’s insults weren’t anything she hadn’t heard before. Everything she did wasn’t good enough for someone, but she prided herself on her hard work. She was another cog in the machine that helped them survive their volatile new world. Someone had to do the weeding and herb collecting. Her job was just as important as those who guarded the fence from the Tainted. Without weeding, some crops would fail, and without herb collecting, their people would suffer from all the ailments that plagued them.

  “You’re alienating yourself and it’s not doing you any favors. Despite what you tell yourself, there is a hierarchy here, and you’re about to topple from the top, founder’s daughter or no.”

  She ignored Gen. She hadn’t alienated herself. The people had done that once her mama died and her papa began to shelter her. But he wasn’t protecting her, he was hobbling her. By hiding her away and excluding her from Harbor’s mandatory wilds protection detail, he’d made it even more difficult for her to win the respect of the people.

  “Are you done, Gen?” she asked as she yanked another spiny weed from the ground. The stupid thing bit into her hand. She hissed and dropped the pointy intruder, then examined the little drops of blood welling on her fingers. Damn, she needed gloves.

  “Did you even hear a word I said?” Gen said.

  “What?” Hazel asked, pulling her attention from her abused hand. “Did you say something else?”

  Genevieve’s fawn gaze narrowed. “Jake sent me to remind you that blending rehearsal is in a few hours.”

  Right. The blending. If only she could push it back one more year…

  Gen smirked. “Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if you didn’t receive any offers?”

  She snorted and wiped her bloody hand on her jeans. Someone would choose her. Three had already approached her father, not that she cared for them.

  “I don’t think I have to worry about that.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because everyone wants power. Our history is proof of that, and to that effect, I represent power.” Hazel jabbed her spade into the ground again. “I have offers, but only because of what they hope to gain by marrying me.”

  Silence greeted her statement. She glanced up at Gen, who’d crossed her arms, looking like she’d bitten into a sour apple.

  “It’s too bad you won’t have a love match like your mother.” With that parting remark, Genevieve turned on her heel and strode away, her dark hair swishing behind her.

  The breath Hazel had been holding rushed out. Most days she could ignore the taunts, but Gen’s dig about her mother cut deep. Hazel had known what her future held for a long time, and it looked nothing like what her father and mother had shared. She and Matt had planned on marrying when it came time for their own blending ceremony. His death removed all her hopes for a marriage based on love. Now, she harbored hope of marrying someone tolerable who would give her children to love and dote upon.

  She blinked back her tears and cursed herself for letting Gen get to her. Marriage was a necessity of life, nothing more, nothing less. But even as she chanted those words inside her mind, she swore she felt a noose tightening around her neck.

  Her gaze darted back over the cornfields and to the tree line past the fence. What she wouldn’t do to just have a moment of freedom, to be truly alone. A fanciful thought to be sure. The wilds weren’t some fantasy world filled with magic and wonder. All that waited outside the wall were monsters, disease, and death. She would never forget the stories her brothers told of the monsters that walked like men, so distorted that they didn’t look human.

  She shivered despite the heat, rubbing at the goosebumps on her arms, and twisted to gaze at the surrounding farmland. Only once had the Ta
inted managed to break through their perimeter, long before her time. Now, only little creatures made it past the fence, but no less dangerous. One bite and you were infected.

  She threw off the morbid thoughts. Dealing with the little beasties was almost a daily occurrence for her. There was no need to freak herself out over something that wouldn’t happen. She eyed the carrot tops and sighed. One row down … a million more to go. But if she hurried, she could finish up the next row and pop by Mesa’s for a snack before rehearsal. Hazel grinned as she yanked another weed out. Maybe she’d have pastries hidden somewhere.

  Late.

  She was late.

  Hazel snatched her spade from the ground and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans. She jogged down the rows of vegetation and sprinted for the southern doors.

  “Running late, Hazel?” Old Joss called from on top of the wall.

  “I lost track of the time,” she shouted, not slowing down. “The carrots can’t weed themselves.”

  “That they cannot. Get a move on, girl.”

  “Yes sir,” she called over her shoulder with a smile. Old Joss and his wife were two of the few that treated her with kindness. They were kindred spirits of a sort.

  Disapproving looks were cast her way as she sprinted through the square toward the amphitheater. The doors to the amphitheater sat wide open, as were all the windows. She slowed and jogged up the steps into the dim room. She grimaced. Everyone had arrived already. Excitement over the blending had been abuzz in Harbor for weeks. No one wanted to miss the yearly chance to get married.

  Ice seeped into her veins. By this time tomorrow, she’d be married to a virtual stranger who she had to lead the community with. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “I miss you, Matt,” she whispered to herself.