Fallen World - available the end of February, 2015 at most online retailers

Excerpt from FALLEN WORLD, new novel by Marti Weaver

     Rage distorted the woman’s facial features. “You bastards!” Her fists pounded on his chest as tears streamed down her pale face. At six feet in height, he towered over the slight woman. She coughed deeply and then spit yellow phlegm into Derrick’s face. It splattered on his protective mask.

     He snapped his head back slightly and blinked a few times. Even with the heavy plastic shielding his face, he had a hard time not reacting when this sort of thing happened. He stared into her frightened eyes through the thick mucus running down his face plate. Despite the cold air, she sweated profusely. He wiped the disgusting substance from his barrier equipment with a double-gloved hand.

     She stared at him through puffy, red eyes, puss pooling at their corners. She lunged toward him, but Derrick pushed her away.

     “Mommy!” Both coughing children screamed.

     “You killed my husband,” she wailed. “You had no right coming here!” She collapsed on the dead man, her body convulsing as she bawled. “Get off my land,” she choked out, looking up at Derrick.

     He signaled to Mitchell, who hauled the woman to her feet by her elbow.

     The dog growled but the soldier didn’t seem to notice.

     “Look, lady.” Derrick tried to keep a calm, yet firm tone. “When you refused to follow the directives set forth by the Universal Global Order, you forfeited your rights.” He held the documents out to her. “You, your husband, and your children received positives for influenza and were ordered to report to the nearest medical station for treatment. You, as a citizen, have been informed that this strain of influenza is not only the most deadly strain in history, but also the most highly communicable.” He recited the words he’d said thousands of times since the R14A74T virus mutated into the monster it was today. “By refusing to comply with established treatment plans, you’re now considered fugitives, and will be treated accordingly.” His stomach felt full of concrete. He despised treating good people like criminals.

     After yanking the papers out of his hand, the woman ripped them and let the tatters fall to the ground. “Fugitives? Are you kidding me? I’m an American. I have a Constitutional right to refuse treatment, if I choose.”

     Constitutional rights? Derrick thought. They no longer exist. “Those rights have been terminated due to the global threat. Martial Law is in effect.”