Season Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 2) Read Online Free

on his cheeks. He’d been out too long and he knew it. The problem was that he had no desire to start the long trek back to Canaan. A shortage of rations had become a problem. Rowan was convinced that a return to hunting for food was an obvious solution. A majority of the Canaan tribe disagreed.
    He never liked referring to them as a tribe. As far as Rowan was concerned, his tribe, the Cheyenne tribe, died the night the infected invaded the rooftop home of his people. He was banned from the tribe by Mia’s father before the traumatic event, but he tried to ignore that part of the story. His aggravation with Mia’s place among the so-called new tribe was something else he couldn’t let go.
    “Let’s go down there.”
    The whispered words were the first from anyone in the small group following Rowan in quite some time. He was impressed that they’d kept quiet for so long. He was down on one knee, looking out over a sparse group of buildings in the valley below them. The stillness made Rowan uneasy, but he had to be sure.
    “Always give them time,” Rowan said, turning to look back at the wide-eyed faces behind him. “The dead can sit still for a long time, the infected not so much.”
    “Do we have to head back?” Jonah asked.
    He was the youngest of the group at only ten, but he longed to be a leader among them. The other four already had their place in the troop. Bale was the oldest by five years and as solid as an oak tree. Tate was closest to Jonah. Gabriel was the only one among them born within the compound and Bree was the only girl. Rowan quietly believed she could get the better of all of them.
    “Not yet,” Rowan said looking up at the sun. “But we can’t risk getting caught out here after dark.”
    He’d spent the past several months working his way through the land around Canaan, never knowing what awaited him each time he set out. Mia hated his excursions, so he finally stopped telling her. His best guess told him that he was supposed to be doing something more important at the moment. Rowan’s real concern was making sure each member of his trailing pack made it back in one piece. He took one last look down at the valley then grinned.
    “Let’s go.”
    ♦
    Closer inspection revealed there were far more buildings than Rowan counted. Most of the structures had fallen in on themselves, none of them more than a few stories tall. He pointed out directions, working through a series of hand signals he’d learned as a child, attempting to pass them on to the next generation. The formation ended in a line, pressed up against the cold exterior of a building away from the largest cluster of structures. Rowan was hopeful they would spot some game hidden within the decaying shells, using them as shelter.
    They moved forward on Rowan’s command, sweeping across the front of the building. Each of them had a bow, a few more skilled than the others. Rowan shied away from the guns the tribe took in as they rediscovered droves of weapons left behind in Canaan. He preferred the armaments of his former people and Jonah followed his example.
    Rowan peered through the front broken windowpanes at a long-abandoned front room. He couldn’t imagine it ever being the centerpiece of a family home. A snowdrift covered scattered pieces of ruined furniture. There were no signs of tracks and the discovery helped to calm his nerves. He led them in and the small group gathered around him inside the front door.
    “There’s not much here,” Bree said, her eyes on the buildings on the far side of the snow covered road. “Maybe we should start back.”
    Rowan considered it. Bree was cautious but by no means a coward. He found himself in a constant struggle between a need to protect the young group and a desire to stay away from Canaan. He looked to the others for confirmation.
    “We still have time,” Jonah said. “Let’s at least have a look around before we head back.”
    Rowan took another look at the sky. He guessed