The Hunger (Book 2): Consumed (13 page)

She leaned toward Lance.  “Do you smell that?”

Lance nodded.  He’d smelled it a few times in the past month—dead bodies.

“Something is really wrong here, dumbass.”

“No shit.  Our friends have been kidnapped by a bunch of psychopaths.”

Cass gave him a glare that made him shut up.  He put his hands up in surrender.  She looked to the sky, frowning at how low the sun was.

“We’re running out of time,” she whispered.  “We have to get them, escape through the woods, and find a safe place to hide before nightfall.  The sun is going down soon, so we need to get our asses moving.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“We need to split up.”

“Are you out of your mind?  I’ve seen that movie—we both die.  Horribly.”

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

Lance watched the rays of sunlight cascade through the tree canopy.  Time was running short for them.  “No.”

“So what are we arguing for?  We need to find them.”  She nodded at the garage.  “I’m going to look in there.  Even if they aren’t inside, I’m willing to bet that’s where the generators are.”

“And?”

“And I’m going to sabotage them.”

“Good call.” Lance rubbed his sweaty palms on the front of his shirt.  His adrenaline was kicking into high gear again.  It was game time.  “What do you want me to do?” 

“Make your way around to the back of the house.  Stay in the woods though.  See what you find.”

“And if I see the doc or Eifort?”

“Grab them if possible, otherwise wait for me.  We’ll go in together.”

Lance considered giving her a good luck kiss, but Cass had already lowered herself to the ground and began to crawl toward the garage.

He worked his way through the woods again, keeping himself so close to the forest floor that his knees ached after only a few yards.  The nails in his baseball bat snagged against weeds and undergrowth, forcing him to stop a few times to untangle it.

The butt of the .44 in his waistband gave him little reassurance.  If he had to shoot that, it would bring the entire camp down on them.

The area behind the house came into view as Lance edged his way forward.  Another large structure stood at the far side of the clearing.  Its walls and ceiling were opaque as if it was some kind of greenhouse.

A few dozen people stood behind the cabin, all armed.  Several more kneeled on the ground before them, their hands secured behind their backs.  Two of them pleaded with their captors, their tormented voices barely reaching Lance’s ears.

Lance paused, hiding behind a tree.  He peeked around, focusing on the faces of the prisoners.  He didn’t see Eifort or the doc among them.

Slowly, quietly, Lance skirted the edge of field, moving at an agonizing pace.  One misstep would give away his position.  He considered moving further into the forest so he could move faster, but he didn’t want to lose sight of the people behind the cabin.  If either of his friends appeared, he needed to be able to follow them.

The tree line curved around the clearing and Lance followed it, bringing himself around the backside of the cabin.  As he approached the greenhouse, he heard shouting coming from the group of captives.  He stopped again, creating a small gap in the underbrush with his hands.

Tony appeared, strutting around the side of house.

“The fuck is going on?”  Tony stopped beside one of the armed men, getting into his face.  “I told you to take care of this.”

“She says she’s pregnant.”  The armed man had a baby face and twigs for arms jutting from a sleeveless, camouflage jacket.

“Is that a fact?”  Tony turned his attention to one of the women kneeling before him.  “What’s your name?”

She had red, shoulder-length hair.  “Rosemary.”

Lance couldn’t see her face, but the quake in her voice indicated how frightened she was.

“I think you’re lying to me, Rosemary.  You aren’t pregnant, are you?”

“I am!  I swear!”

“You don’t look like it.”  Tony pulled a pistol out of a holster attached to his belt.

“Please!” Rosemary sobbed, her shoulders hitching.

“We have pregnancy tests here, Rosemary.  You know what happens around here if we find out you’re lying?”

“You’ll feed me to them.”

“That’s right.”

Tony looked at the thin man beside him.  “Travis, right?”

“Yes, sir.”  The man gave him a salute.

“Cut that shit out.  You salute the boss man, not me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take Rosemary inside and have her take a pregnancy test.  If she’s lying, you let me know.  I’ll personally feed her to ol’ Terri.”

“Yes, sir.” Travis grabbed Rosemary by the arm and lifted her from the ground.  He pulled her toward the cabin as she sobbed a thank you to Tony.

Lance’s eyebrows scrunched as he tried to understand what just happened.  Why was Tony concerned with her being pregnant?  And who the hell was Terri?

“Do the rest of you understand the stipulations for staying here?”  Tony stalked in front of the rest of the prisoners.  He stopped in front of a man with a ponytail.

The four women and two men kneeling on the ground didn’t respond.  They stared at the grass in front of them.

Tony shot the ponytailed man in the face.

––––––––

L
ance bit into his knuckle, stiffing the cry that welled in his throat.

He watched as the dead man’s body toppled backward, sprawling lifelessly in the grass.

The female prisoners screamed in shock and fear.  The other male stared down at the dead man in complete despair.  His limbs shook uncontrollably.

“I’ll ask again—do you understand the terms for staying here?”

“Yes!” the prisoners cried in unison.

Lance’s knuckles blanched as he squeezed the handle of the baseball bat.  He would have given anything to wrap his hands around Tony’s throat.

“Who has the registry?” Tony asked the armed men behind him.

One of the men stepped forward, handing over a clipboard.  Tony read from it, his deep voice booming through the small area behind the house.

“Kristal, Autumn, Shannon, Kim.  Stand up.”

The women struggled to their feet, still crying.  Their shoulders worked with each sob.

“Do you understand your responsibilities to the group?”

They nodded their heads.

“Good.”  Tony pointed at the man who handed him the clipboard.  “This is Seth.  Follow him to the campgrounds.  He’ll assign you a mate.”

Lance’s head rocked back as if he’d been slapped.

Assigned a mate?  What the hell?

He rubbed his temples, doing his best to contain his anger and confusion.  His mind raced at the implications of what he’d seen and heard.

Knowing that he needed to move, to continue searching the grounds for Brown and Eifort, didn’t keep him from kneeling there and watching the madness before him unfold.

The women followed the mate-matcher Seth around the corner of the cabin.

Tony stepped in front of the final prisoner, who remained on his knees, staring at the body of the shot man.

“Nikola, right?”

The man nodded, but didn’t look up.

“If you prove your worth around here, your rations will increase and we’ll potentially assign you a mate.  Do you understand the laws of this compound?”

The man nodded again.

“Good.  Your first task is to carry this body down the trail behind you.  There are some men out there who will tell you how to dispose of it.”  Tony walked around him and untied the man’s hands.  He grabbed him by the back of the shirt and yanked him to his feet.  “Don’t fuck around back there.  If we have to come looking for you, well... you won’t like what happens.  If you help us, we’ll help you.”

He shoved the man toward the dead body.  He turned and strode toward the cabin, going inside through the back door.

Nikola, the last prisoner, stood in front of the body, but didn’t make a move to do anything with it.

One of the armed men behind the house shouted something unintelligible at him, pointing his gun in the prisoner’s general direction.

Lance turned his attention to the cabin as Nikola struggled to lift the body from the ground.  The windows of the home were open.  People occasionally walked past them, but Lance was too far away to be able to recognize anyone inside.  If Eifort and Brown were in there, he would have a difficult time getting them out.

Nikola managed to get the body over his shoulder and lifted it up with a mighty effort.  His cheeks and forehead flushed as he struggled against the weight.  He shuffled across the clearing, heading toward a trail that led into the woods behind the cabin.

Lance watched as he passed through the tree line.  He looked back at the home one more time, fighting over whether to follow the prisoner into the woods or to stay and watch the cabin.  The amount of men loitering in the backyard made the decision for him.  He wouldn’t be able to sneak into the cabin until they moved somewhere else.

He slowly backed away from the clearing, moving deeper into the forest.  He worked his way around to the trail he’d seen Nikola take.

It was about five-yards wide and comprised of compacted, grassless dirt.  Lance followed it along the right side, staying low in case someone came by.  He caught up to the prisoner a few minutes later.

The shadows from the trees grew longer as Lance shadowed Nikola deeper into the forest.  He feared that he would run out of time before he managed to locate his friends.  Nikola’s pace was slow and plodding as he fought to get the body to its destination.

Lance had just considered turning back when he heard voices ahead.

Another clearing, much smaller, appeared a few hundred yards past the cabin.

The shriek of a daywalker pierced the quiet.

It came from the clearing.

Nikola hesitated at the end of the trees.  Lance couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go forward.

Two men stood at the edge of a large pit in the middle of the field.  They stared down into it, rifles held in front of them.

Another shriek rang out.  Lance knew that it came from the large hole.  What were they doing back there?

Nikola finally got moving again.  He carried the body halfway into the field before he finally collapsed to his knees, dropping the dead man to the ground.

One of the guards turned around.  “Another one?  Jesus, Tony’s in rare form today.  Bring it on over here.”

Lance squeezed the bat again.  Another one?  Another body?  Had Tony killed Eifort and Brown already? He’d thought that Tony might spare them because of Brown’s skill set, but what if the psycho didn’t care about that all?

Lance inched forward, careful of each step so he didn’t make a sound.  He needed to see what was in that pit.

The other guard turned then.

It was the man who’d sliced Lance’s neck on the boat.

Lance’s hand touched the pistol at his waist.  He fought the urge to start shooting.  His anger built into a ball of rage in his gut, crowding out rational thought.

“Hurry up, ya damn fool.”

“I can’t carry him any further,” Nikola said.

“Jesus Christ.”  Lance’s boat attacker slapped the other guard on the arm.  “Help me drag the body over.”

The two men left the edge of the pit and walked over to the dead man, securing the rifles over their shoulders with slings.  They each grabbed an arm and started dragging the body.

Lance made his move.

In a dozen steps, he got clear of the trees and turned onto the trail.  He sprinted as quietly as possible toward the guards.  He stopped just behind Nikola and pulled the .44 free.

“Nobody move.”  He said it loud enough for them to hear over their grunts of exertion.

Nikola spun around.  His eyes went wide when he spotted the enormous pistol.

Lance aimed at the man who blew up the Duchess.  He leaned his head back, exposing the bandage on his neck.  “Remember me?”

The guards dropped the body to the ground and reached for their rifles.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”  Lance’s eyes cut back to Nikola.  “Get out of the way.”

“But I didn’t—”

“I saw what they did to him back there.  My beef isn’t with you.” He pulled the hammer back on the pistol.

Nikola gulped as he fixated on the long barrel.  He slowly stepped to the side, giving Lance a clear path to the two guards.

“You almost killed my friends and me.”  Lance walked toward them, his anger building with each step.

The balding boat-sinker had a thin scar running down his cheek.  He spat at Lance’s feet.  “Looks like I didn’t cut deep enough.”

Lance backed them up to the edge of the pit.  He kept his eyes locked on the men as he walked sideways so he could get a look into the large hole.

Another shriek came from below as he stepped up to the edge.

His breath caught in his throat as he peered down.

A handful of daywalkers wandered around in the pit.  Their hands scrabbled against the dirt that made up the sides of the hole, fighting for purchase to climb out.  Lance watched as they went from wall to wall, tearing at the earth.

The pit, at least fifty-feet wide, worked as a makeshift prison for the recently infected.

The daywalkers were far along in the symptoms of the Xavier virus.  Their eyes were little more than dried prunes in their sockets.  Teeth, pointed and sharp, cut their lips as they chomped at the air.

Veins crisscrossed through every piece of translucent flesh, weaving an embroidery of horror that would forever scar Lance.

Their cries echoed off the walls of the pit, disorienting them as they tried to escape.

A body lay toward the middle.

Hunks of muscle and skin were torn away.  Teeth marks covered what little flesh remained.

Blood mixed with the dirt floor, creating a crimson swath of mud under the body.

Bones littered the entire pit, piled knee high at different points.

“My god,” Lance whispered.  “You’re feeding these fucking things.”

The gun in his hand wavered as his rage built to a dangerous crescendo.  He looked back at the man who’d destroyed his home.

“What’s your name?”

The man spat again.  A wad of snuff pushed out his lower lip.  “What’s it to you?”