The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged (13 page)

“You don’t like him,” Cass said as they left the garden.

“Who?”

“Colt.”

“He’s not really my type. I don’t get all hot over muscular, intelligent, leader types.”

Cass grinned. “Are you jealous of him?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I don’t trust him, there’s a difference.” Tomato juice ran down Lance’s chin. He wiped at it with the back of his hand and sucked in a harsh breath at the pain that came. “He’s not telling us everything.”

“He saved our lives last night.”

“That’s why I’m keeping my mouth shut. For now.”

They passed the pit where Lance had fought a handful of daywalkers to the death. The pit where he’d found Don, the bastard who had left with Lance’s wife during the apocalypse. They stopped at the edge, staring down at the red-stained dirt below them.

“OK, maybe I’m a little jealous of how cool he looks while smoking those cigars. What is it about a cigar that makes a man look intelligent?”

Cass laughed. “What are you talking about, dumbass?”

“Seriously, think about it. When you see a guy smoking a cigar, he has this calmness about him. Like he’s thought things through and is just relaxed about everything.”

“You’re nuts.” Cass took his half-eaten tomato and bit into it. She grinned around the fruit. “Maybe because a man with a cigar isn’t in a hurry. He has nowhere to be.”

“Maybe I should take up the habit.”

“This is a seriously weird conversation. I think you breathed in too much smoke last night, and it damaged your brain.”

They followed the path leading to the cabin, discussing plans for dealing with the infected. When they got to the side of the house, Lance heard someone call out to him from across the field.

He turned, eyes roaming the clearing. Colt stood by the solar panels, waving him over.

“Shit,” Lance mumbled.

“Go see what he wants. I’ll help get the wood piles ready for tonight.” Cass pointed to the tents. “And try not to act weird when you’re talking to him.”

Lance grumbled as he started across the field.

––––––––

“I
hear that you’re looked up to around here.”

Lance shrugged. “I’ve been told that. No idea why.”

“You appear to be a man of action, Lance. I like that. They say that you took a knife to the back to protect the woman you love. Sacrifice is admirable and honorable.” Colt pulled a cigar from his pocket and offered it to Lance.

“No, thanks. I’m concerned about lung cancer.” Lance couldn’t help but wonder who had been talking so much. The man had only been there for a few hours.

Colt chuckled. “You like to crack wise too. Smart-ass humor is a favorite of mine.” He stuffed the cigar in his own mouth before pulling a Zippo from his pocket and lighting it.

Lance figured the man must have spent a small fortune on smoking before everything went to hell. Now, he probably spent a considerable amount of time trying to find cigars in abandoned shops and bars. He consumed them at an almost comical pace.

“What can I do for you, Major? I’m a little busy right now.”

“I understand, but this is important. It’s obvious that Brown is the brains of the operation here. He’s an incredibly intelligent man. Compassionate too. That’s important. But it’s painfully clear that he doesn’t make the hard decisions. You do.” Colt walked toward the trees, beckoning Lance to follow.

“Hard decisions? I can’t say that I follow.”

“What happened last night when the shit hit the fan?”

“I set myself on fire.” Lance kept pace, trying to figure out where the conversation was heading.

“I’m being serious, Lance. If you want my help, then I need to get an understanding of how things run around here. Brown told me that you ventured through the darkness to find bulbs and when that didn’t work, you set a vehicle on fire. A man who puts himself in harm’s way to save others is a valuable asset during times like this.”

“Cass and Eifort came with me. I didn’t do it alone. Hell, I didn’t accomplish much of anything, actually. They killed a bunch of the infected and kept me safe while I managed to set myself on fire.”

They stopped by the tank. Colt leaned against it, puffing on his cigar. He eyed Lance.

“And what did the doctor do while you were trying to save everyone?”

Lance opened his mouth to reply before shutting it again. What was Colt up to? Was this an attempt at sowing discourse through the camp? A way of undermining Brown?

“The doc did everything he could. He’s running himself ragged trying to stay on top of everything around here.”

Colt held a hand up. “I’m not knocking the good doctor. All I’m trying to do is make a point. You’re a warrior. Maybe not an effective one, but you put the effort in and people around here see that. It’s clear that they hold you in high regard.”

Lance didn’t know how to respond to that so he didn’t bother.

“That sort of deference can prove useful if it’s exploited correctly,” Colt said.

“What does that mean?”

“Right now? Nothing. But if things get radical again, as they did last night, then hard decisions might have to be made. It’s important to know that the people will follow you.”

“What kind of hard decisions?” Lance felt like he had strings attached to him and a puppeteer hovering overhead. He forced himself not to ball his hands into fists. Attempts to keep the growing anger out of his voice failed. “Speak fucking English.”

“Relax, Lance.” Colt kept puffing away, not an ounce of concern showing on his face. If he was any calmer, he might have fallen asleep. “I’m here to help, remember?”

“Then help us get some more guns. Get your men prepared for the night. Don’t bullshit me about hard decisions and then not tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Fair enough,” Colt said. “There are too many people in this camp. One thing I’ve seen over and over again is that the big collectives of survivors always fail. There are too many variables when you’re dealing with large groups of people.”

Lance looked over his shoulder at the tents, searching for Cass. Colt was making all of the same arguments Cass had when they’d first stumbled into the safe zone at Heinz Field. She’d worried that someone would screw up, and everyone would die.

Of course, she’d been right.

But her tune had changed when they’d found all the pregnant women at Ralph’s camp. She’d decided that they needed to stay and help, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Colt continued, “So when I speak of hard decisions, I’m talking about splitting the camp.”

Lance spun around, opening his mouth to tell the major to go fuck himself.

“Hold on, Lance. I don’t mean to kick them out on their asses. We would set up a different location for them. One that’s as defensible as this camp. But less people means a higher chance of survival.”

“If you think I’m going to go along with something like that, then you might as well turn around and march your ass out of here. I won’t make these people fend for themselves.”

“I see.” Colt watched as two of his men helped pile wood close to the edge of the forest. They dumped oil over the split logs. “It’s disappointing to hear that you aren’t willing to do what’s necessary.”

The pain in Lance’s hands and legs was forgotten as he ground his teeth and stared at Colt. His initial wariness of Colt had been accurate. This man wasn’t the benevolent force that he pretended to be. Now, as he glared at the muscle-bound major, Lance wondered how he could get the man out of the camp.

Movement at the mouth of the driveway caught Lance’s attention. He stepped to the rear of the tank and held a hand up, shielding his eyes from the sun.

Adam drove a black Explorer with a handful of Colt’s soldiers sitting in the back. He put the vehicle in park behind the cabin and climbed out, his eyes scanning the clearing. When he spotted Lance, he jogged over.

“We have a problem.” Adam wiped sweat from his brow. “We went up to Greensburg to find some bulbs and other supplies. Remember that sound we heard in Latrobe? It’s in Greensburg too, and it’s even louder.”

Lance cursed. “Did you see any of those holes?”

“Yeah, a ton of them. That damn chittering sound was close to the openings too.”

“What chittering?” Colt asked. He moved closer, squinting at Adam.

“It sounds like chewing or scratching or something.” Adam shook his head. “It’s hard to describe, but it’s coming from those holes in the ground. We heard it when we passed a storm drain too. I think the bastards are dug in all over the place.”

“Where was this, exactly?” Lance asked.

“We saw it outside of a Primanti Brothers up Route 30 a bit.”

Colt glanced over at Lance. “You know where that is?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go take a look.”

Lance looked up at the sky, gauging how long they had until sundown. There was plenty of time, but he didn’t like to leave the camp so late. It made the timing tight if they got a flat tire or hit an overly congested spot in the road. “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.”

“How many more tomorrows are there going to be if we don’t get on top of this? You have a rat problem, Lance, and I’m the best exterminator in town. I’m not suggesting we wage a war today, but if I can get a look at the situation, then I’ll spend the night formulating a plan of attack. When the sun comes up in the morning, we’re going to kick some ass.”

Lance nodded. That made sense to him. He figured getting away from the camp would allow him to dig at Colt a bit more to find out his plans. Not having him around the others might open him up.

“Why were you all the way up at the Primanti Brothers? That’s on the other side of the city.”

“We had a helluva time finding those bulbs. They’re some kind of special size, and we had to check a ton of different stores.” Adam bobbed his head toward the Explorer. Joe and a few others were unpacking the equipment from the back of it. “But we got a whole bunch of them. Even if those bastards break more tonight, we have enough to replace them several times over.”

“Nice work,” Lance said. “Get them spread out by each of the lights, so we can change things out in a hurry.”

“I’m on it.” Adam went back to the SUV and helped with the unloading.

Colt cracked his knuckles. “Let’s get a move on so we aren’t pinched for time getting back before nightfall.”

“We’re just doing a surveillance run?” Lance asked. “Nothing else?”

“That’s it.”

Lance looked at the tents one more time. He spotted Cass standing beside Eifort, talking to a young woman with a small baby bump poking against a soiled t-shirt. She saw Lance and waved.

He waved back, his hand lingering in the air for a moment. His thumb cocked toward to the driveway, and he made a steering motion with his hands.

Cass nodded and waved again before turning back to the woman.

Lance grimaced as his tender skin on the back of his hand brushed against his pocket when he reached for the keys to the Jeep. “Let’s go take a look.”

––––––––

T
hey rode in silence for twenty minutes as Lance guided them along small, auxiliary roads leading into Greensburg.

Over the past several weeks, those who went on scavenging runs had learned which highways were overrun with abandoned cars and destroyed overpasses. They’d mapped out the fastest ways to get to the stores that hadn’t been completely ransacked.

As they passed the University of Pittsburgh at Greensburg campus, Lance finally asked a question that had bothered him since the major had arrived that morning.

“What happened in Annapolis?”

Colt watched the destroyed campus through his window. Several of the buildings were blackened from fires that had raged there shortly after the collapse of the safe zone. The burned-out husks of cars crisscrossed the parking lots and small side streets.

“I lost the majority of my men,” Colt said finally. “The entire city was infested with those blind bastards. We tried to clean them out, but things went to hell, and I lost dozens of good soldiers.”

“We heard there were a lot of survivors living there because of the docks and the water. What happened to them?”

“Most of them died. The Weres attacked night after night until the camp finally fell.” Colt clenched his hands. “There were several hundred people there when we arrived. They were arguing over who should be in charge. The idiots were holding elections if you can believe that.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Lance followed signs leading them to Route 30. The highway wound around the eastern side of the city and would take them close to their destination. The road was clogged with destroyed and abandoned cars, but they would only have to follow it for a half a mile or so.

Colt smirked over at him. “An election in the middle of a war is the kind of stupid shit we did in the old world. Democracy doesn’t work in the midst of chaos.”

“And I suppose that you think you could do a better job than anyone else?” Lance slowed down as he worked the Jeep around a twenty-car pileup at an intersection. He skirted around it, taking them through a parking lot before hopping a curb and getting back on the road. “I blew a man up who said something similar.”

The words came out before Lance thought them through. They hung in the air between them, an unintended threat. Colt laughed.

“You blew up a crazy man who was forcing men to rape defenseless women. I want to keep people alive, not create barbarism. I have no interest in being a leader of men, Lance. I want to help as best I can and then move on. We’re in a war with the Weres, and I intend to win it. That’s my goal—extermination.”

Restaurants and stores lined both sides of 30, their doors shattered, windows smashed.

The eerie silence of the once-bustling city never ceased being disconcerting to Lance. He hated the quiet of it. The empty buildings of the old world were constant reminders of what had been lost.

“The difference between us,” Lance said, “is that I’m not willing to kill people to save others.”

“You killed this Ralph fellow, didn’t you? You did that to save Cass.”

Lance turned onto a side street and put the car into park. He shut off the engine and turned to Colt. “He was actively trying to kill us. It’s not like he was making decisions I didn’t care for. The man was a murderer, a rapist, and a psychopath. You’re talking about stopping people from running their own lives.”