The Swarm Read online

  The Swarm

  Black Carbon #4

  A.J. Scudiere

  The Swarm - Black Carbon #r

  Copyright © 2022 by AJ Scudiere

  Griffyn Ink. All rights reserved. No part of this document may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  FIRST EDITION

  Contents

  Books by A.J.

  A.J.’s Renegades

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  About the Author

  Want a free story?

  Go to www.ReadAJS.com/join-now to get free short stories.

  * * *

  Look for other novels by A.J. Scudiere.

  Available in bookstores, online, and at ReadAJS.com.

  * * *

  The NightShade Forensic Files

  Book 1 - Under Dark Skies

  Book 2 - Fracture Five

  Book 3 - The Atlas Defect

  Book 4 - Echo and Ember

  Book 5 - Salvage (A Shadow Files Novel)

  Book 6 - Garden of Bone

  Book 7 - The Camelot Gambit

  Book 8 - Dead Tide

  Book 9 - Sabotage (A Shadow Files Novel) (available 2020)

  * * *

  Black Carbon

  Book 1 - The Hunted

  Book 2 - The Surface

  Book 3 - The Tempest

  Book 4 - The Swarm

  * * *

  Legends

  The Landa Landa & The Aellai

  * * *

  FORTUNE (red)

  FORTUNE (gray)

  FORTUNE (Red & Gray)

  * * *

  The Vendetta Trifecta

  Vengeance

  Retribution

  Justice

  The Complete Vendetta Trifecta

  * * *

  Stand Alone Stories - Available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited

  * * *

  Resonance

  * * *

  Dissonance - a companion novella to Resonance

  * * *

  God's Eye

  * * *

  Phoenix

  * * *

  The Shadow Constant

  * * *

  Stand Alone Novels by A.J. Scudiere: Resonance, God’s Eye, Phoenix, The Shadow Constant

  * * *

  A Collection of Blogs

  Smart Chickens - Deliver Us From Email

  Smart Chickens - We’re Not Like Other Families

  Smart Chickens - Tele Me More

  Smart Chickens - Omega Dog

  Join A.J.’s Renegades here: www.ReadAJS.com

  Praise for A.J. Scudiere

  "There are really just 2 types of readers—those who are fans of AJ Scudiere, and those who will be."

  -Bill Salina, Reviewer, Amazon

  * * *

  For The Shadow Constant:

  * * *

  "The Shadow Constant by A.J. Scudiere was one of those novels I got wrapped up in quickly and had a hard time putting down."

  -Thomas Duff, Reviewer, Amazon

  * * *

  For Phoenix:

  * * *

  "It's not a book you read and forget; this is a book you read and think about, again and again . . . everything that has happened in this book could be true. That's why it sticks in your mind and keeps coming back for rethought."

  -Jo Ann Hakola, The Book Faerie

  1

  Cage felt his muscles clench as he almost tipped over into the clear, blue water.

  The water itself terrified him. He'd told himself—and Joule—that it was okay. This was clear. They could see anything coming and it would only be fishes and dolphins. The good marine mammals. They'd certainly had enough of bad fish in the past.

  But his lungs froze as the shape lifted out of the water beside him, the hump large and gray. Pasty and rough, it’s skin broke the surface, swelling upward, and his brain went haywire.

  Surely it was the Loch Ness Monster.

  It was huge. In case he thought it was just his imagination running toward real and imagined terrors, the thing bumped at his pole. His toes clenched against the board. He hadn't been the most upright paddle-boarder from the start, and he was going in. He'd go under. He'd die.

  His eyes darted quickly to his sister, and he saw Joule, too, was frozen with fear.

  "Breathe!" he wanted to yell at her. To tell her it would be okay. But he couldn't even tell himself that. His own lungs hadn't expanded. His eyes were trying to squeeze shut even as he forced them open to the warm, sunny Florida day. If he closed them, he'd see the murky swirls and rising floods they'd faced before.

  This.

  Wasn't.

  That.

  Through sheer force, he sucked in air. He tightened his core muscles and managed to stay upright, despite the bump he felt from the monster from the deep.

  Around him, squeals and screams cut the air.

  "Oh, my God!"

  "Look!"

  He didn't want to, but with a second forced inhale, he did. Eyes downward, he watched as the hump slowly went back under the water, the dark beast receding beneath the surface.

  "It's a manatee!"

  This time, the words broke through his racheted-down thoughts. A manatee.

  Safe. Not dangerous.

  Cool, even.

  It had taken Joule and him two years to use the tickets for this trip. Job opportunities had interfered. Grampa’s health had worried them. But finally, they were here, and he was going to enjoy it.

  "They aren't supposed to be here this time of year!" another voice called out.

  "Actually, manatee haven't had 'normal' migratory patterns for the last twenty years," the guide informed them. Jeff slowed his own paddling to let his group stop and watch as five of the giant beasts slowly checked out their poles and shadows. The crystal clear water here was a natural aquifer fed by underwater springs. Something both the people and the manatees appreciated. It was why Cage and Joule had been willing to spend a half-day of their vacation on the surface of the water.

  They'd been to the beach, but only stood on the shore. The waves, though blue and bright, were not clear. Cage knew with more certainty than most—with far more conviction than he'd ever wanted—what waited beneath the breakers. The salt air, at least, hadn't smelled like the flood. And here in the clear backwaters, he'd felt... not comfortable, but safe enough.

  A manatee. He could handle that.

  But his eyes went immediately to his sister. Joule's face, though pale, was now looking downward. Her cheeks were pink and rounded, and she was smiling at what she saw. He then found his own courage to look at the water.

  Pink fishes, almost a foot in length, darted between the sea cows. Black fishes, smaller and often striped, zipped between them with a vivaciousness that neither the big fish nor the manatees felt compelled to mimic. Even smaller, gray, minnow-type fish moved in tight schools between the others, and he thought he saw one of the pinkish fish open its mouth and inhale a swath of smaller ones. The little guys had been there one second and gone the next.

  The big fish hadn't changed expression at all. But that was life. Big fish ate the small fish. Sharks ate the students when they fell overboard. But manatees ate only grasses and ... he didn't know. He hadn't finished that marine biology degree he'd started. He'd moved to the biology of more land-based creatures after the waters had risen. So the manatee habits were beyond his knowledge.

  He stayed
still as he looked down. Tracking the gentle beasts, with only one ear listening to the guide explain their habits. What they ate. That the scars on their backs—Jeff had pointed to one in particular—were from boat rotors and careless tourists. "When they say no wake, they mean no wake. When the sign says under ten, this is why."

  The scars tugged at Cage’s heart... which was now almost back to a normal rhythm again. Not that it had been low and relaxed since he'd climbed on the board and learned he was not a natural at this. Not since his toes had begun gripping the board’s rough surface and his pole digging into the bed of the shallow waterway every handful of seconds, just to stay upright. Jeff had been good, though. He'd been calm and soothing, full of information to distract them.

  Cage looked up just in time to see the guide slap at his neck. "If no one has anywhere they have to be,” he said, “we'll stop and let the manatees roll on past us, and then we'll continue our tour."

  No one protested. Not even Joule. Not even Cage. He could do this.

  Wasn't this part of why they'd come? He and his sister had never openly discussed it, but they each had something to prove here.

  "Ugh!" Jeff slapped at his arm and this time—though he didn't seem to notice—Cage was close enough to see a slight smear of blood. At least he'd gotten the sucker.

  Cage looked to his sister. Joule shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. She probably would have raised her hands, but her death grip on the pole didn't allow it. It wasn't her, anyway, who was allergic to bites. It was him. She was just sweet. The biteys liked her. He, on the other hand, already sported one quarter-sized reaction to a simple mosquito bite after a morning at the botanical gardens. The tree crabs had distracted him. He'd not even realized something was buzzing around until he'd felt the almost imperceptible pinch.

  Now, Joule shook her head again, and he could read it. She'd sprayed herself with bug repellent. Something she'd concocted from internet instructions using essential oils. She'd also used commercial stuff that he was pretty sure had DEET in it. Her look told him, "Not me. Not getting bit."

  He'd done the same. So when Jeff reached down and slapped at his leg, and almost tipped, Cage didn't feel much sympathy. The man was supposed to be a professional. He did this every day, probably twice. He should have known he'd get bit.

  "Okay, the big guys are moving on, it seems." Jeff pointed toward the lead manatee, though if that was the actual leader, Cage didn't know. Jeff hadn't said, or Cage had just been paralyzed with fear over some gentle sea cows and he'd missed it. But the manatees were swimming the opposite direction of the paddle-board tour.

  Despite knowing what they were and that they wouldn't hurt him, Cage found himself relieved to see them go. He didn't need them bumping his board. At least this was cool and he'd tell people he had been out with the manatees. But he was grateful they were moving on.

  "If you look up and to the right, on the shoreline you can see a nutria. It looks like—" Jeff coughed. A harsh throat-clearing, then continued. "It looks like a big rat. But they aren't rats, they're—"

  He coughed again, as though to move something lodged. "One second," he told them. But even that sounded raspy.

  As the guide reached down by his side and pulled up his water bottle, he coughed again.

  That couldn't be good. He tipped his head back to take a sip and Cage heard his sister's gasp just as he saw it.

  Jeff had a rash blooming in real time across his neck. Pink welts moved down his arm like an army of marching ants.

  "Umm, Jeff?" one of the other tourists, a mom with several teenage kids in tow, asked with her most mom voice. "Jeff, I think you have—"

  But Jeff didn't answer. He was clawing at his throat, opening his mouth like one of the big pink fish, only he was terrified. Sucking sounds came from his lungs as he tried for air and failed. His eyes grew wide, and he looked at Cage as his face began to turn purple and his frantic motions toppled him into the water.

  2

  Startled by both his tour guide’s sudden spasm and splash into the water below, Cage lost his tenuous grip on his own stability. He tipped and flailed, his lack of attention dooming him.

  So he did the only thing he could do: he went into the water. Pushing his hands in front of his head, he shoved with his foot off the board and tried to dive as cleanly as possible. The water wasn't deep, but it was deep enough for manatee and clear enough that he could see where to aim.

  The water, cool and soft, closed in around him, a sensation that almost paralyzed him. The sound of voices, frantic above him, didn't help.

  His head popped up in time to see the manatee darting away, not liking the sudden commotion that humans had caused. He spun quickly, his feet not touching the bottom and his arms paddling frantically, to shouts of, “Right behind you!” and “Find Jeff!”

  The twins had been given swimming lessons when they were small. They'd even been on a swim team and raced competitively during the summers. Though they'd won their handfuls of ribbons, they’d been nothing special. Still, a couple quick crawl strokes brought Cage to Jeff.

  The guide was now face-down in the water, twitching and thrashing. Flipping the man over, Cage saw the now-swollen face and the rash. Maybe the cool water had made them easier to see. Above him, he heard Joule taking command. She had seen that Jeff wasn’t able to breathe. Cage’s own lungs stopped working as his adrenaline kicked up another notch and Jeff’s flailing arms nearly hit him.

  It was supposed to be a vacation! he thought as he looped an arm under Jeff’s chin. This was certainly not the best way to haul someone, but if he tucked his arm under the man’s shoulders, Jeff would surely swing back and clock him. Also, it wasn't like he was what was cutting off Jeff's air, and he needed speed.

  “To the shore!” Joule was yelling to everyone, aiming the paddle-boarders in the same direction Cage was moving. Luckily, the waterway was narrow. The crystal clarity of the water was the only thing keeping Cage from panicking.

  Quickly, his feet found purchase in the sandy bottom. Several places sported dark patches and though he assumed they were mossy rocks; Cage avoided them. The place seemed far too beautiful and far too serene for an emergency like this.

  Jeff, who had been rocking back and forth when Cage first grabbed him, now started to diminish his fight. It seemed his airway had been completely closed, or very close to it, when Cage flipped him over. Jeff had had enough oxygen in his system to fight for air, but even that was gone now. The sucking sounds that insisted he was trying still to breathe through a narrow pipe had all vanished as his forehead broke out in a fevered sweat.

  With quick, muscle-aching steps, Cage dragged what was now a lifeless body onto the shore. He thought about CPR but couldn’t make sense of it in this case. ABCs. He'd learned that somewhere and he was pretty sure they were failing at A—Airway. No airway, no breathing. No breathing, and pretty soon there would be no circulation.