Myrna Read online

  Myrna

  Vivian Vandam

  This novel is dedicated to my family and friends. Thank you guys so much for your love and support. And to my amazing readers, you have no idea how much you guys mean to me. I love you all.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Authors note

  Part One

  Prologue

  One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Part Two

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Books By This Author

  Authors note

  Hi everyone! Thank you for picking up Myrna! This is my very first sci-fi thriller/survival horror. This novel was inspired by the orginal Resident Evil--1996--and Resident Evil 2--1998--. I wanted to bring the nostalgic love into this novel, that I feel every time I pick up these classic gems.

  So, the first thing you may notice in this novel is that there are a few similarities in between them. Thats because Resident Evil--the franchise as a whole, was my entire childhood. I wanted to make something that the orginal creators would be proud of.

  Thus I made Myrna! I hope you guys enjoy this novel as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love you all!

  Part One

  Prologue

  The world had gone to shit.

  It was simple as that.

  She accelerated her truck down the neighborhood. Mina had decided this was going to be her last big score before she got the fuck out of dodge with her little sister Nadine.

  The riots were moving closer to their home, and it wouldn't be long before their own home was targeted. The city of Crusa had been shut down from the rest of the world, no one was allowed in or out. But she was going to change that. She had almost all her stuff packed and ready and in the back seat of her truck.

  She had Nadine's medication, clothes, food, and water. The dark skies were lined with red from house fires in the suburbs of Crusa. As soon as people started getting sick, and her fathers’ company shut all their doors and ignored their pleas, was when she saw the world start to burn.

  Then, the citizens were dying.

  Mass graves were made in the center of the city, bodies were burnt.

  But that didn't stop anyone, nor the smell of death that lingered in the air, thick like a miasma. She leaned on her hand, her name, was Myrna Locklear. Age: 25, she was an Aquarius, and her favorite color was chartreuse. She loved old 70's music and drinking beer on Fridays.

  She graduated Highschool with the highest honors and continued to work with her Uncle Vinny in his gun shop during the summers. However, this was the city, and the city wasn't cheap.

  Mina continued her secret passion, which was cat burglarizing.

  For the last fifteen years, she followed down that path, stealing underneath people’s noses without them knowing she was even in there. By morning time all their valuables would be gone, and they would've already been sold on the black market.

  Taking a left, her headlights turned down another long stretch of road. The streetlights were off, and many cars were already gone. Doors had huge Xs across them, showing that there was 'dead inside'.

  Mina parked a block away from her mark’s house, she reached down into the floor of the passenger seat and took out her black mask, leather gloves, and her lockpick kit. She pulled the mask over her face and got out of her truck.

  Her feet struck the pavement silently, as she closed the door as quietly as she could. Mina's gut was screaming foul. That something wasn't right, it was too quiet, and she could smell burning rubber in the air. Still, she needed the extra cash to make sure she and her little sister got the fuck out of dodge.

  Crouching low she followed the sidewalk and went to her marks house. It was a nice mid-century two-story home; it was one of the few that didn't have the large X across the door. The yard was still nicely taken care of, the hedges were trimmed, and the marks car was still in the driveway.

  There were no lights on in the home. She took the front stairs two at a time and tried the doorknob. Of course, it wouldn't be unlocked. Mina crouched on her knees working at the lock with the lockpick in her hand. She found the tumblers with ease. Once it turned over, she knew she was in. She kept the mask over her face, her knife on her hip. Gun in its holster. The city was falling apart and there was no one rescuing them.

  Mina gently pushed the door open, the smell hit her first. It was nasty, reminding her of rotting fruit or moldy flowers. She crinkled her nose, taking hold of her flashlight she clicked it on. Immediately she saw the streaks of blood leading into the backroom and up the stairs.

  Her hackles rose, her instincts screaming at her once again, to leave. Come on…with all these riots going on, are you surprised at all Mina? The poor guy probably didn't make it. She swallowed back her fear, staying light on her feet she pushed forward, ignoring the blood streaks she went to the staircase.

  She panned her flashlight over the living room again, she wasn’t surprised at the décor. She and a few other friends of hers staked this house out, more than once. An older man lived here with his beagle. He was an art collector. Knew his shit, still, her heart skipped. The blood was old, dried, and looked like mud. It was hard for Mina to look away. I hope he’s okay…I’m a thief, not a bad person.

  She was silent climbing the stairs, stepping where the wood wouldn’t creak. Her hair was cut short in a pixie cut; her black tank top glued tight to her. She had on black jeans, with black combat boots. The mask over her face hid everything but her eyes.

  The stairs had a red-carpet runner in the center. As she reached the landing she got down into a squat, turning her light off. She waited a moment till her eyes adjusted—

  The smallest sounds of movement from the living room. She stayed still, counting the seconds.

  The sound wasn’t repeated.

  Going up the last few steps, she knew the bathroom was to her right, and the first bedroom was in front of her. That smell wasn’t nearly as bad upstairs. She was able to breathe easier. Mina walked on the balls of her feet to the first door, leather gloves pulling down on the handle. The door opened with ease. A single light was on. Her stomach heaved. This isn’t right. Putting her flashlight away, she grabbed her handgun— a SIG P226—out of its holster.

  If there was someone else in this house—that wasn’t the owner— she was going to defend herself. She scanned the room, keeping her finger off the trigger.

  The soft yellow light cast a glow over the bed. In the center was a deep pool of blood. She lowered her gun keeping it at hip level. The blood wasn’t fresh…Something bad happened. I have to get out.

  That noise, the same noise she heard from before. “Mmmnuh—”

  Mina turned around, aiming the gun behind her. The sound came from the closet, she breathed through her nose. Keeping calm, she tried to be as silent as she could—

  “Mmnnuh…”

  The moan came again, the sound was something she’s never heard before. It made her blood run cold. Even with the leather gloves, her palms became sweaty. A dead memory came surfacing of when she was a child, and she watched her grandmother fall down the stairs, crack her head open and break her ribs.

  It was almost the very sam
e sound as that. “Hello?” She called softly. “Do you need help?” Again, she was a professional thief, not a monster.

  The moaning died down before turning into a roar of hunger and rage. Mina widened her eyes in shock. The closet door was being slammed against. Wood being splintered with each bang.

  Ready to run down the stairs, the closet door swung open. The older man who lived there fell on the floor, right on his face. Mina listened to the sickening crunch of his nose breaking, and the wet sucking sound of flesh pulling away from the bone.

  She nearly gagged at the very smell coming off him in waves. There were patches of his hair missing, exposing his bloodied scalp. The blood falling from his nose wasn’t red, it was congealed and brown like mud.

  Mina raised the gun, keeping calm. “Stay back!” She shouted backing up from the room, the door was open behind her. The stairs were clear—

  The older man got up, his very mouth was ripped away and the center of his stomach was gone. He had intestines dragging behind him. His face was pallid and covered in gangrene. His one ‘good’ eye, that wasn’t ripped from his face, rolled around in his skull. At the corners of his mouth, she could see the red foam.

  His broken nails swiped at the spot she was just standing at. She shot a warning shot at the spot near his foot. “Don’t come any closer, I’ll shoot!” Her voice was calm, stern.

  The man opened his mouth, strings of bloody saliva vibrated at his moan. He swiped at her again just barely touching her chest. Mina breathed deeply, aiming at the man's throat, she pulled the trigger once.

  A hole appeared in his throat before it even bled it was congealed like gelatin.

  “What the fuck?!” She gasped out.

  The man was nearly on top of her, his wet hands pulled at the mask ripping the cheap fabric. Mina brought her hands up striking him in the center of the elbows, she backed up kicking him in the solar plexus. Her boot sunk deep into his chest, she could hear the brittle and soft bones crunch. She lifted her gun, taking careful aim.

  She shot him in the spot between his nose and mouth. The sweet spot.

  The older man collapsed.

  He didn’t get back up.

  Breathing heavily, she lowered her weapon, she pulled the mask off her face. The stench of him caused her to dry heave. She covered her nose and mouth with her hand. The old man didn’t even bleed out when she shot him. Her chocolate brown hair was plastered to her head from sweat, her gold-green eyes stared at the dead body. “What…the fuck…?” She breathed heavier through her mouth.

  Mina was leaving the room when she heard the same sound from earlier, downstairs. She looked at the mask in her hand, she shoved it in her back pocket, keeping her gun up she took the steps as silently as she could.

  She peeked over the banister, and she saw a female shuffling around the downstairs. Over and over, she bumped into the coffee table, she paused, leaned over, and vomited all over herself.

  The woman retched, and more came out of her mouth. It looked like—to Mina—like ground coffee. Her once white shirt was covered in it, the left side was torn right off and she could see her bare breast, ripped through showing the fat and black veins running up her neck.

  Mina tried to keep her panic dimmed down, to think and breathe. But the smell, God the smell was almost making her want to vomit herself.

  She stepped down wrong, the stair creaked. The dead woman looked up, her stringy hair slick with oil and encrusted with blood. She smiled, before opening her mouth and screeched. Mina saw the sharp teeth in the women’s mouth, broken, and cracked.

  She had her hands up, running right at Mina. Before she even got a chance to shoot, the woman covered the distance and was starting to climb the stairs.

  Mina managed to get one shot off, it spun the woman around. She fell down the stairs. She was groaning, already getting back up. Mina watched in slow motion. The woman was turning to look over her shoulder, the entire right side of her face was blown clean off. Her teeth shattered more so than before.

  She raised the gun again, aiming.

  The woman screamed.

  The gun jumped in her hands.

  ◆◆◆

  Ace held the steering wheel of his cruiser in his hands, he had been up for the last two days. No sleep and growing even more tired each passing minute. He ran his hand through his greasy brown hair. His tired robin egg blue eyes looked at his rearview mirror. He just left the downtown portion of Crusa to stop—another—raid.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, and he couldn't stop seeing them in his head. The very vision was burnt into his brain.

  Children, so many children were screaming for help in the orphanage. They were locked inside with those who were supposed to take care of them. When he and a few other officers finally broke down the door—blood so much blood covered the floor and walls. Little handprints covering every surface.

  By the time they scoured the entire area…all that was left were the people in charge of the orphanage. Kneeling down and digging their hands into the stomachs of kids, and teenagers—

  He looked up to his rearview mirror and saw the one-child survivor. Lyle. He laid down in the backseat, covered by his jacket, and was sleeping deeply. His eyes twitched, and his fingers jerked.

  Probably dreaming about his friends being eaten…the boy's yellow shorts were splattered with blood, his shoes caked in it. He had a few scratches on his face and hands, his eyes were haunted and scared. His almond-colored skin ashen from shock.

  Ace gave him whatever food and water he had on him, and the boy scarfed it down. What he and his partner had been told was a raid, was anything but.

  He brought his eyes back to the road and could feel the goosebumps crawling across his flesh. The entire roadway was packed tight with cars, the doors were open with rivers of blood coming out of them.

  No one ever thought about driving the opposite way. Ace needed to get back to Crusa, and to the police department. His captain would know what else to do. Because right now, Ace was scared out of his mind, he had a child to look after and his own skin.

  What the fuck is going on? His grip was so tight around the steering wheel his knuckles were white.

  "Mister?" Lyle called from the backseat.

  He glanced at the rearview mirror, "Yeah buddy?"

  Lyle rubbed at his eyes, yawning. "Where are we? Why are we on the wrong side of the road?" He leaned up and looked out his window, "Why are those cars not moving?"

  Ace's stomach tightened, "We're on the way to the upper side of Crusa buddy, we have an entire police force there waiting for you. I and everyone there will protect you and make sure you get somewhere safe. The cars aren't moving because…" He paused, and sighed, "Because they all left. They got out in a hurry and walked the rest of the way."

  Lyle's tired eyes blinked, and he held Ace's jacket close to him. "I'm scared. Why did Ms. Juliet and Mr. Humphry eat all my friends?"

  "They were sick Lyle; they didn't know what they were doing." He brought his eyes back to the road, he watched as people dragged their feet on the ground, pieces of flesh falling off the soles of them.

  Lyle was quiet for a moment, "Will that happen to me, Mister? Get sick?"

  "No. And I won't let it happen. Relax, you'll be alright I promise." He had taken his eyes off the road for a moment, just a moment to look at Lyle—

  "Watch out!" Lyle shouted.

  Ace snapped his attention back to the road, a lanky man stood in the center of it wobbling back and forth. He leaned over and upchucked, his whole life flashed before his eyes, as the front of his car struck the man. The windshield gave in as the body rolled over the hood of his car and flew behind him.

  He didn't hear the man land, as he entered Crusas lower city limits and saw the large blockade ahead of him—

  As he slammed on the breaks, the car didn't stop. It didn't even skid. He tried again, and nothing happened. He had pushed the breaks all the way down to the floor to no avail. "Lyle, sit back and buckle up!" H
e shouted.

  The blockade was coming up on him fast, he grabbed the steering wheel and started turning it. The car followed, before he got a chance to prepare himself, the cruiser slammed the passenger side first into the blockade, Lyle screamed in the backseat behind him. His teeth were clenched so tight he thought they would crack.

  When the chaos settled around him, he relaxed his arms from the wheel and let out a slow breath. He listened to the ticking of metal and the soft crying from Lyle. He unbuckled himself, and turned around, Lyle was holding onto his jacket for dear life, and tears streamed down his cheeks in large rivers. He was shaking and sucking in large gulps of air. Ace's neck was stiff and his back felt like a thousand pounds were on it. But he got out of his side and went to the back passenger door.

  When he opened it, Lyle came out and wrapped his arms around his waist. His face buried into his stomach. "Don't leave me please!" A harsh sob. "Please Mister Ace! I don't want to be alone again. I'm so scared." A harder sob.

  Ace took a moment to give a quick scope of the area around him, it was still clear for the moment—

  "I won't leave your side Lyle, I promise." He gently pulled the child away to get down to his level, he kept eye contact. "Are you okay? No cuts? Nothing hurting?"

  The boy shook his head no. Ace rubbed his arms lightly, "Alright. What I want you to do, is put my jacket on you. We're going straight to the police department. We're going to have to walk there. Are you okay with walking?"

  Lyle nodded quickly, "Yeah. I am."

  Standing up, he reached into the car and wrapped the jacket around the boy. "Don't take this off, no matter what. If…one of those sick people try to bite you, it'll be harder for them to bite through this fabric." He gave his shoulders a squeeze, "If anything happens that we have to split up. Find the police department, don't stop for anyone else, other than me. Alright?"

  "Yes sir." He looked up at him with bright eyes. "I won't stop till I get there."