{"id":3779,"date":"2019-02-23T17:44:21","date_gmt":"2019-02-24T01:44:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/?p=3779"},"modified":"2019-02-23T17:44:32","modified_gmt":"2019-02-24T01:44:32","slug":"panacea-red-plague-3-chapter-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/?p=3779","title":{"rendered":"Panacea (Red Plague #3) Chapter One"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
Enjoy this free sneak peek of Panacea’s 1st chapter!<\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Panacea<\/a> (Red Plague #2)<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Copyright 2014 by Anna Abner<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/a><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Back Cover Blurb:<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The red plague has devastated the human race, turning billions of people into zombies with red eyes and an insatiable hunger for human flesh.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

No closer to extracting the cure from inside Ben Sawyer, Maya Solomon is ready to give up her quest to cure the zombie virus. But Pollard and Hunny have gone ahead to Washington, DC in search of other survivors. Alone and vulnerable, Maya and Ben begin a final and treacherous journey north in the hope that somehow the secrets locked inside Ben\u2019s blood will finally free the world from the grip of the Red Plague.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chapter One<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I shoved open the door of our borrowed VW Bug and stumbled into several inches of gritty beach sand. Past a craggy dune, the Atlantic Ocean burst upon the shore. Over and over, undaunted. Behind me, Ben curled in the passenger\u2019s seat, his long legs bunched to his chest to fit the cramped interior. He hadn\u2019t woken when I drove hell-bent across fields and marshes to escape Camp Carson. He hadn\u2019t woken when the car stuttered to a stop, empty of fuel, on the Virginia beach. And he didn\u2019t wake as I stood over him, chewing at my bottom lip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Smart had done more than lie about extracting my dad\u2019s antiserum from Ben\u2019s blood. He\u2019d drugged him. Among other things. He might not wake up, not completely, until morning. Four hours or more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He needed help, first aid, possibly a doctor, but all he had was me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I searched up and down the beach. If a pack of quick-footed red zombies, sufferers of the 212R virus, found us, we had no protection except the car. So, not much protection at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to search the trunk.\u201d He didn\u2019t answer, but talking to someone, anyone<\/em>, made me feel better. \u201cOkay, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He flinched at the sound of my voice. The sedatives he\u2019d been fed hadn\u2019t worn off completely. I grabbed his hand so he\u2019d know he wasn\u2019t alone anymore. Reflexively, he squeezed back, his fingers twining with mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the storage compartment I found a raincoat, but no emergency flares or forgotten bottles of sports drink. Certainly nothing useful. I tossed the coat into the back seat with my gear and then closed the trunk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d I told Ben, \u201cwe\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We probably weren\u2019t going to be fine. Not alone and unprotected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I turned toward the sound of the surf. \u201cI just need a minute to make a plan.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The whitecaps looked and sounded exactly the same as they always had. With all the chaos in the world and all the changes that had hammered down upon the human race, it didn’t seem right the ocean kept rolling across the earth, oblivious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m scared,\u201d I signed at the horizon, my hands stuttering through the motions. Really, really scared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the surf kept washing upon the beach in a slow, quiet rhythm. Tempo adagio<\/em>. Like a hymn. I hummed a counter-beat, and the sad melody I couldn\u2019t shake returned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Way down here \u2026 I disappear.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The water was black as tar with the occasional silver reflection of starlight from overhead. I tried to stay out of the surf, but it was tricky in the dark determining the tide\u2019s reach, and cold salty water splashed over my sneakers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAw, crap.\u201d I didn\u2019t have spare shoes, which only reminded me that my survival knowledge was nil. I knew how to run, hide, and disinfect. That was about it. Because I came from a family of technology loving city folks, not rugged survivalists. For the millionth time I wished my dad hadn\u2019t left to finish his antiserum for 212R. He may not have been able to teach me about hunting or shelter building during the apocalypse, but at least I wouldn\u2019t have spent so much time alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But if Dad hadn\u2019t left, he wouldn\u2019t have finished the elixir and Ben would still be a Red. My dad had wanted his work to mean something. To help people. And it had saved Ben.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, it was worth it. I just wished I had both of them, Ben and<\/em> Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I glanced over my shoulder, but the compact car was a shadowy shape across the sand. More than anything, I felt alone. For the first time since the plague it wasn\u2019t a pleasant sensation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Night stretched and lengthened, seeming to last forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Where was Pollard?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shouldn\u2019t have pushed to separate our group. I should have fought to stay together, but I\u2019d been so sure the four of us\u2014Pollard, Juliet, Hunny, and I\u2014would be too visible, too loud, too obvious, breaking into Ben\u2019s locked room. I\u2019d argued to be the only one to pull off the rescue mission.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe it hadn\u2019t been a good idea because everywhere I looked I saw only sand, water, and sky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pollard should\u2019ve been on the beach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But he wasn\u2019t, and I had no way of contacting him. 212R had infected so many people, and so quickly, there was no one left to run water, trash, and electricity services. No GPS, no cell phones. Wherever he was, he was out of my reach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I walked south, but didn\u2019t catch sight of my friends. Or any human beings at all. Not even a single house or a forgotten beach umbrella. Pivoting, I marched north as far as I felt comfortable. Off in the distance I recognized roofs and a white fence. But that was it. No Pollard, no Hunny, no Juliet, and no sign they\u2019d been anywhere near there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thirst drove me back to the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As for supplies, we were pathetically undergeared. In my backpack I carried my personal belongings, a canteen of water, some snacks, and a couple changes of clean clothes. An extra-long screwdriver. My short sword, a fully functional replica from the Lord of the Rings<\/em> films that had been my dad\u2019s before the red plague. And the golden-hued guitar Ben had given me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Definitely not enough to build a secure shelter and hunker down for days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Depending on the temperature, my water supply might only last twenty-four hours. The same for the snacks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And with Ben not in his right mind, everything fell to me to do. Except I wasn\u2019t any good at taking care of other people. I was okay at caring for myself, but awful at taking care of others.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I opened the driver\u2019s side door and reached between the seats for my pack and the canteen inside it. Because of the tiny interior I was forced to get very, very close to Ben. I tried not to disturb him, but my ribs brushed his arm. He snapped awake, and I squeaked in surprise, banging my head on the roof of the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaya?\u201d he exclaimed, and then he scampered out of the car on all fours into the soft sand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s me,\u201d I confirmed, climbing out and massaging the top of my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d He used the car to push himself upright.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe escaped from Camp Carson,\u201d I explained, glossing over the rough parts. Like the fire. The torture chamber. Unstrapping him from a gurney.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned in a circle, scanning the area, and then pinned his intense red eyes on me. \u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been better.\u201d Muscles and joints I didn\u2019t even know I had ached. I stretched my arms over my head, and my spine crackled like pretzel rods. \u201cHow do you<\/em> feel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was standing and alert, and he had color back in his cheeks. All good signs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m okay. How far are we from the base?\u201d He squinted down the beach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI drove about fifteen miles-an-hour for two hours.\u201d Camp Carson was southwest of Richmond, but after traveling north and east I could no longer picture our location on a map. We definitely weren\u2019t near any big cities. \u201cThe car\u2019s out of gas. I haven\u2019t seen or heard anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Pollard? And Hunny?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I kicked at a clump of grass. \u201cThey left a hole for us to go through. I stayed behind to get you. We said we\u2019d go straight east and meet on the beach.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you go straight east?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No<\/em>. I had messed up. I should\u2019ve forced Ben onto his feet and gotten us through the trees the night before, but I\u2019d been so scared I\u2019d wanted to get as far away from Smart as possible. He\u2019d tortured Ben for days in his locked room, and I was scared he would follow us and recapture Ben.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And because of it, we may have lost Pollard and Hunny for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere were woods to the east,\u201d I said. \u201cI drove north until I found beach access. I guess they went a different way.\u201d Or, worse, went back to rescue us. If they had, they could be locked in Ben\u2019s old prison.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas there a backup plan?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMeet at the Washington Monument. Pollard thinks there might be people there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ben blew out a long breath. \u201cHave you seen any sign of them at all?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI searched while you were sleeping. I walked up and down the beach but I didn\u2019t see anything. Not even a piece of trash blowing in the wind. It\u2019s too dark, but if I turn on a flashlight I might attract trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need some fresh air.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I bit my tongue to keep from saying, \u201cWe\u2019re already outside. How much fresher can the air get?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But he was determined and wobbled across the sand to the edge of the water. Just as I had done, he inched too close and wet his boots. Except he didn\u2019t jump back like I had. He stood in the surf and let it wash over his feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A memory of him strapped to a gurney in Smart\u2019s barracks room flashed in my mind. What had they done to him?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After he\u2019d injected my dad\u2019s antiserum, I\u2019d been so sure the right thing to do was get him to a doctor and pull the answer to reversing the red plague out of his blood. But Smart had lied to me. I\u2019d thought Ben was being cared for by the residents of Camp Carson. But as soon as they\u2019d closed the door on him, they\u2019d started the horror show. They could\u2019ve done anything to him in there. Surgery. Amputation. Complete exsanguination.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One thing they hadn\u2019t done was extract the cure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you okay?\u201d I asked hesitantly, afraid to spook him. I stepped closer, itching to feel his brow for fever, but I didn\u2019t dare. Not with him so unsteady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStay away from me,\u201d he gasped. \u201dFor God\u2019s sake, Maya, just stay back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I moved away so quickly I nearly tripped and fell on my butt in the sand. But I steadied myself and then kept a healthy distance between us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ben\u2019s expression was tense as he turned toward the churning surf. \u201cI don\u2019t like being tied up,\u201d he growled. \u201cThey tied me up. Do you understand?\u201d He sucked in a ragged breath. \u201cIt was like being in lockdown in Dogwood.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Dogwood Juvenile Detention Center in Raleigh, North Carolina. The one Ben had been sentenced to. The same one my twin brother had been inside when the red plague hit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mason had been incarcerated when he was fifteen and ordered to serve time until his eighteenth birthday. A milestone he probably would never make. We didn\u2019t turn eighteen for three more months. If he hadn\u2019t escaped before 212R spread, then he would have been trapped inside the jail when chaos erupted. Theoretically, he could still be inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shivered. \u201cCan you walk?\u201d I asked. Silly question. Ben was in no condition to walk. He could barely stand. \u201cNix that. I\u2019ll get you some water. You need to drink lots of fluids. Fruit would be nice.\u201d I was babbling like an idiot. We didn\u2019t have fruit. We were lucky to have clean, drinkable water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHere.\u201d I tossed the canteen at his feet so he didn\u2019t have to touch me. Or smell me. \u201cDrink.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Whatever progress he\u2019d made in the last few days seemed lost. He was just as unstable as the first day after injecting the elixir.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not safe here.\u201d He took a long swallow from my canteen, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Carefully, he straightened his heavy boots, then the cuffs of his trousers, and then the sleeves of his black T-shirt. Finally, he rearranged his dark hair. \u201cWe have to keep moving.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo.\u201d One thing was obvious. Some awful stuff had gone down in Smart\u2019s so-called lab and Ben had regressed to near zombie status. \u201cIt\u2019s two o\u2019clock in the morning. We should stay here and sleep. At dawn, I\u2019ll forage in the woods.\u201d I glanced at the Atlantic Ocean rolling away from us. \u201cMaybe I can even fish something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou said Pollard is going to Washington, D.C.?\u201d He frowned as if piecing a puzzle together. \u201cThen we have to follow him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat? No.\u201d I advanced a step, and then reversed trajectory. \u201cSorry. I mean, you need to rest from,\u201d I eyed him up and down, \u201cwhatever happened. We don\u2019t have to rush into another trip.\u201d Because I wasn\u2019t even sure if Pollard was in D.C. Or okay. Or alive<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou came back for me.\u201d There was a growly resolve in his voice. \u201cI will take you to your Pollard.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s not my<\/em> anything,\u201d I said quickly. \u201cAnd you\u2019re not ready to go on another road trip.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou should be part of a family, Maya, even if it\u2019s not your own family.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I huffed a laugh. Where had that come from? \u201cI\u2019m fine by myself,\u201d I assured. \u201cBesides, I had a family. They\u2019re all dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But Ben had stopped listening. \u201cIs D.C. north of here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt has to be.\u201d There was no way I\u2019d passed it during the night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease pack our stuff. I just need another minute.\u201d He plopped onto the sand again, pressing his palms against his eye sockets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHeadache?\u201d I guessed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMmm.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I left him in the sand to collect my backpack from the car, as well as my guitar and short sword. By the time I closed the Bug\u2019s door, Ben was back on his feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI’ll follow you.\u201d His pace would be my pace, even if it meant slowing to a crawl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Without saying a word, he lifted the backpack right off my shoulders and walked up the starlit beach, veering away from the water where the ground was firmer and easier to navigate. I jogged to catch up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Buy the full novel on Amazon<\/a> now.<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
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<3 Anna<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Enjoy this free sneak peek of Panacea’s 1st chapter! Panacea (Red Plague #2) Copyright 2014 by Anna Abner Back Cover Blurb: The red plague has devastated the human race, turning billions of people into zombies with red eyes and an insatiable hunger for human flesh. No closer to extracting the cure from inside Ben Sawyer, Maya Solomon […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1081,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Free chapter of Panacea (Red Plague #3)!","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[241,761],"tags":[221,682,418,823,332,90,822,808,220],"class_list":["post-3779","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-panacea","category-red-plague-series","tag-apocalypse","tag-dystopian","tag-kindle","tag-kobo","tag-plague","tag-red-plague-series","tag-young-adult-fantasy","tag-young-adult-fiction","tag-zombie"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/PanaceaFin.jpg","views":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2Wkl2-YX","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3779","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3779"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3779\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3781,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3779\/revisions\/3781"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1081"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3779"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3779"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3779"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}