Chapter 1
Cray
I sprint toward the sounds while a detached part of my mind analyzes the remains of Central Park around me. Leaves drift to the ground in the whispering, autumn breeze. The air holds a chill, but there is also freshness to it as if it carries something new and clean. It makes me feel alive, and running feels effortless.
My senses have always been above average. Well, that’s actually an understatement. Fact is I can pick up on things most average Joes wouldn’t pick up on in a thousand years. I suspect it’s somehow related to how my mind processes information, but even running at top speed, I’m able to detect subtle earthy smells from the soil, a hint of magnolia, and the funky smell of animal crap somewhere nearby. I know the wind is moving at 4.2 miles per hour, and I know the padding of my footfalls is unlikely to be detectable at a range of more than ten yards to someone of normal hearing.
I cross a sidewalk. The concrete is cracked and bulging in places, and grass and weeds snake through the cracks. I leap over the decorative fence on the other side, its paint peeling and rust peeking through. This part of the park hasn’t been kept up. Manpower is limited. It’s a pity. I remember the park from my childhood when it was still majestic and beautiful, a haven in the middle of the city.
I keep running, faster now, and a hundred yards later I move across a small clearing and stop.
I can hear more grunting and hissing not far ahead and inch forward like a wraith, no sound whatsoever. This is part of my training. I could make a ninja sound like he was walking around in tap shoes on a wooden floor. Concealment, firearms, blades, lethal state-of-the-art hand to hand combat training combined with all the best parts of traditional fighting methods, explosives – there was no limit to the level of training The Organization poured into its recruits. And I soaked it up like a sponge.
I find it’s both a blessing and a curse to never forget anything. As far as training goes, I can instinctively pull upon everything I’ve learned. On the other hand I also remember every bad thing that’s ever happened to me with crystal clarity, and the face of every Fester I’ve killed is etched in my head like a who’s who lineup from Hades.
The Night Sweeper Description:
Cray is a Night Sweeper, a zombie hunter and protector of New York City. After the apocalypse, the country has battled its way back from the brink of extinction.
But now, a new virus threatens to repeat the original disaster, and it’s up to Cray to stop it before humanity is eradicated.
