Hungry Independents (Book 2) (7 page)

“Don’t worry, Michael,” Barbie said. “God is
with us.”

“I hope so.” Hunter pulled the entrance open
and walked into the sunlight.

Tommy had moved away and towered over the
children gathered around him, like a deranged babysitter. They all
looked confident and hungry. It was the hungry part that had Hunter
calculating the run to his hidden motorbike.

Beads of sweat ran down his back and each
step felt like he dragged a pair of concrete shoes. Hunter stopped
twenty feet away and Barbie pulled up beside him. He wished the sky
was filled with clouds, maybe a giant thunderhead, so Barbie could
work some serious magic and end this quick with one bolt of
lightning, but all he saw was pure blue. It would have been a
beautiful day if not for the six drooling kids and the perv.

Tommy cocked his head. “I know you.”

“We met once, back in Denver. You were
putting your hands on my brother’s girl.”

Tommy’s chuckle rang hollow in the space
between the store fronts on Main Street, Cozad. “I’ve done that to
lots of girls.” He sounded like he was talking through a pipe.
“What made your brother’s girl so special?”

“She was the last one in Denver before
Patrick kicked you out.” Hunter hefted the broomstick to his
shoulder. “I beat your ass right before that.”

Tommy wiped the corner of his mouth with a
solitary finger. “She was your sister?”

“That was a cover story.”

Tommy tilted his head and narrowed his eyes,
moving them sideways to stare at Barbie. “You will not stop us,
little sister.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“I wasn’t referring to our relationship, only
to your higher calling. It will satisfy me greatly to savor your
flesh, in more ways than you can imagine.”

“All right, dude. Number one, gross, and
number two, she’s not your type.”

“Everyone is my type.” Tommy looked at the
two little boys and a girl on his left. They returned his gaze with
eager anticipation. Tommy closed his eyes and nodded. They sprang
from their spots and rushed Hunter and Barbie, howling, with tiny
hands stretched out like claws.

Hunter stepped back and gripped the broom
handle tightly, trying to figure out who to stick first and whether
he should even do it.

Barbie stepped forward, hands sizzling at her
sides with white balls of hot fire. The light show did not deter
the kids from the tempting meal. Barbie shot low and thin
electrical bolts struck their knees. The current climbed their
bodies, turning their eyes into white orbs. Realization struck
their faces that dinner plans had changed. They dropped to the
ground in spasms.

Hunter gagged and tried hard to keep from
screaming and throwing up at the same time. Those poor kids didn’t
deserve to be roasted either.

Barbie looked back at all the noise Hunter
was making, sensing the reason for his discomfort. “They’re just
unconscious,” she told him. “But they will wake up. You better
finish this quick.”

Hunter wiped his forehead and pointed. The
other three kids had been unleashed and were almost upon Barbie.
She sidestepped the closest and the girl flew into Hunter, bowling
him over, snapping her teeth at his throat. The stick clattered out
of his hands and across the pavement as he fought to keep the girl
from biting him. He grabbed both sides of her head. Her fingernails
raked his arms, searching for his face, while her knees pummeled
him down below.

Hunter rolled and carried the girl over onto
her back. Quickly he pushed up, but the moment he released her head
she bit into his wrist. Hunter screamed and tried to yank free. The
girl reached up and slapped his face, raking her fingernails across
his cheek. Hunter pushed his free hand against her face. She took
the bait and bit his other hand.

Then Barbie knelt beside him and touched the
crazy cannibal’s small head. An electric pulse rippled through her,
causing the unfortunate reaction of chomping on Hunter’s hand
before she fell unconscious.

Hunter backed away and tripped over one of
the other five kids sprawled on the street. He scrambled away in
panic as pain burned his hands. He regained his feet and inspected
his wounds as they started to heal. Glancing up, he remembered
Tommy, but the perv had not moved from his spot. Barbie retrieved
Hunter’s lost stick.

Tommy smiled.

“Quit screwing around and zap this
asshole!”

Barbie tossed the stick at Hunter. He caught
it, wincing because he half expected his hands to hurt. They
didn’t.

“He’s different. It only works on the
innocent.”

“So what are you saying?”

“This is your fight, Michael. It’s why you’re
here.”

Hunter looked from her to Tommy. Tommy’s
smile widened. Hunter looked back at Barbie. “You’re not making any
sense. I’m nobody. Just some dumb kid who got his brother killed.
This is some kind of freaky, supernatural shit. I mean, look at
this dude! He grew two feet in four months and didn’t have sense
enough to find clothes that fit.”

“Michael, you didn’t get your brother
killed.”

His anger swept him away for an instant.
“Stop calling me that! My name is Hunter!”

Barbie placed her hands on her hips. “You
didn’t get your brother killed. He died so you could be reborn as
God intended.”

“Bullshit!”

Barbie marched over the unconscious kids in
her path and got right up in Hunter’s face. “You are too good to
use language like that!” She rocked onto her tiptoes, wrapped her
hands around the back of his neck, and kissed him hard on the lips.
“Now go kick his ass!”

Barbie stepped around him without another
glance, leaving nothing but the cracked pavement between Hunter and
Tommy, the very hungry looking perv. Hunter hefted the stick in his
hands, trying to find the passion to fight, but all his anger had
fled after rolling around on the ground with the possessed girl
biting his hands. A steady dose of horror and revulsion filled him,
but not a willingness to throw down. That was not good. Without
anger fueling him, Hunter could pretty much kiss his chances
goodbye.

He took a deep breath, wishing Tommy would
say something to piss him off. Tommy stood there flexing his
fingers and licking his lips. Hunter looked elsewhere for strength.
The six little kids frightened him. His sight swept over the
unconscious group and settled on the girl who bit him.

Her breaths came in rapid pants, like she
suffered from an overactive jolt of energy that even in sleep
wasn’t enough to slow her down. She wore a thin summer dress
covered with a yellow flower print. Her small feet were dirty and
bare. Traces of Hunter’s blood smattered her lips. Her hands were
perfectly small, curled up next to her face as if any moment she
would fold them together and pray.

Tommy chuckled, deep and hollow. Hunter felt
a spike of what he needed.

“You like her, don’t you?” Tommy said. “If
you join me in the feast, I will let you have her, if you know what
I mean.”

Madness swelled in Hunter. He gripped the
stick and ran, jagged point leading the charge. He screamed as he
sprinted down the street, with Tommy waiting to receive him. Hunter
pushed ahead and met empty air where he hoped a skewering impact
would take place, but Tommy spun out of the way and chopped Hunter
in the back of the neck. Hunter hit the ground and skidded over the
pavement on his chest.

Tommy leaped on top of Hunter and clawed his
back, cackling like a loon. Each rip of flesh through Hunter’s
shirt sent searing pain as Tommy flayed him open.

Tommy gripped Hunter’s hair. “This used to be
shorter,” the perv said, reflecting on the last time they met.
“Your sister had the big boobs, didn’t she?”

Hunter bucked. “She’s not my sister!”

Tommy held on strong and rode him out. His
other hand stretched in front of Hunter’s face. Long, dark
fingernails, with who knew what underneath, dropped towards
Hunter’s throat. Tommy’s hot, rancid breath fanned the back of
Hunter’s neck.

“I’m going to drain your blood right here for
your little saint to see. Then I’m going to eat her too.”

The dark fingernails flicked. Hunter jerked
his head forward and then rammed backward. He felt the solid crunch
of something soft.

Tommy screamed, standing up. Hunter scrambled
for the stick, rolled up, and found Tommy holding his busted,
bleeding nose. He rushed forward, but instead of trying the
impaling trick again, he hit the brakes and swung. The broom staff
smashed against Tommy’s head. Quickly, Hunter spun the staff around
and crashed it on the other side of Tommy, right in the hip. Then
it was a one-sided sword fight, swinging at random targets, with
Tommy trying to guess where the staff was headed next and always
protecting the wrong spot.

Tommy would not go down and Hunter found
himself slowing from exhaustion. Then Tommy got it right. He caught
the staff and yanked it from Hunter’s hands.

Tommy staggered on his feet, holding Hunter’s
weapon. Hunter wavered, out of breath and energy. The staff blurred
in Tommy’s thrust and the broomstick pierced Hunter’s stomach.
Tommy yanked the staff out and Hunter knew his intestines followed
as his stomach burned. He hoped his invincibility was about to kick
in because the pain exploded into his brain and he cried in
anguish, falling to the ground and waiting, waiting…

Tommy scuffled over. “You almost had me
there, but not quite…”

A brick flew by and smashed Tommy in the
face, followed by more rocks and debris. A dozen angry voices
yelled threats. He hoped Scout had come to save him with a group
from Independents. Jimmy would be mad. Hunter lifted his head, but
his eyesight blurred the small forms rushing at Tommy. His head
bounced off the pavement as he remembered something important
before fading out.

Jimmy was dead.

Mark followed her through Independents. It
was really kind of sweet, but Molly hoped he didn’t expect to make
it a habit. It would be inconvenient when she had to use the
outhouse or wanted to take a bath or, God forbid, have “cuddle
time” with her boyfriend.

At least her twin brother didn’t object to
her relationship anymore since Hunter had proven himself worthy.
Molly smiled. She was the one who had to prove to everyone in
Independents that she was good enough after her betrayal involving
Catherine’s kidnapping last November. But Catherine had made Molly
good again. And that was enough.

Molly stopped at the corner of a street. Mark
walked right into her and barely had time to catch her before she
fell.

“Mark, really, I’m fine. Catherine said that
the hellhounds only come out at night.”

“Yeah, well, what if something else is out
here to get you? I’m not taking any chances.”

“I don’t even know why Catherine thinks they
were after me. I’m nothing special. Not like the chickens and pigs
they killed before finding us. They could have been going after
Sam.”

“Why would they go after Sam?”

She sat on the curb and retied her shoe.
“He’s the one that feeds this town now. Without him, I don’t think
the other kids working in the field would know what to plant where
and when it’s time to harvest.” She stood and brushed off the back
of her jeans. “Besides, the dogs bit him first.”

Mark raised an eyebrow and rested his hands
on his hips.

Molly shook her head. “At least go home and
put some clothes on. Those boxer shorts aren’t leaving a lot to the
imagination. Vanessa is going to have your butt. Plus, you’re
starting to draw a crowd.”

Mark followed Molly’s line of sight to the
group of little girls dismally failing to hide behind a bush at the
house across the street. They pointed and giggled until they
noticed that Mark had spotted them and then they scattered every
which way.

Mark adjusted his boxers and blushed. “Let’s
head over to my place so I can change, then we’ll go to breakfast.
It might be a long time before we eat ham and eggs again.”

“I have something else to do.”

“What?”

Molly pointed. “I’m going over to talk with
Catherine. She took off way too fast before I could ask her why she
thought the hellhounds were after me. I want to get to the bottom
of this.”

“She
was
being a
little spooky talking to the air and stuff.”

“Yeah, there’s that too.” Molly glanced over
Mark’s shoulder. “They’re back.”

Mark spun around. The girls had regrouped
behind a tree a couple houses down. “There’s nothing to see here!
Move along!”

They disbanded in a confused pattern again.
Squeals of glee rattled off the surrounding houses. One named Emma
held her ground and gave a wolf whistle.

Mark turned back, even redder in the
face.

“I’ve always liked Emma,” Molly said. “She’s
going to be trouble when she’s older.”

Mark frowned. “Going to be?” He hitched his
shorts up higher, which didn’t help his situation. He sighed
heavily. “All right, you go see Catherine. I’ll run home, change,
and check in with Vanessa. Then I’ll come over and escort you all
to breakfast.”

“Aren’t you watching David today?”

“I’ll ask Reese to babysit. Just plan on
having me around until we get this settled.”

“But, Mark…”

“End of discussion. If you want, I’ll just
lock you up again.” A smile spread across his face, but Molly knew
he wasn’t joking.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re not
funny.”

“David thinks I’m a riot when I stick veggies
in my nose.”

“I’ll see you in a bit. Go put some clean
underwear on, please.”

“What are you talking about?” Mark said,
twisting around for a better look at the back of his shorts.

Molly covered her eyes. “Mark, you’re poking
out!”