The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged (19 page)

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T
hunderous blows pounded on the wall beside Lance.

He couldn’t fathom how he’d slept through that racket two nights in a row. The Vladdies attacked the walls as if they were possessed.

Above their din, he heard something else, something different.

The clang of metal on metal in the other room.

Paul stood at the end of Lance’s cot, pointing at his ear. “That’s them breaking through the other room. They never used to bang on the walls like this before. I think they’re doing it to try and cover the sound of them chipping away at the metal n’at. Smart.”

“Not smart enough,” Lance said. “How long until sunrise?”

Paul checked his watch. “Twenty minutes. They oughta tucker out in a minute or two.” He arched an eyebrow at Liz. “Ready?”

“Not really.” She wore a large backpack that carried boxes of heavy ammunition and several guns. She’d complained about the weight of it, but Paul didn’t seem to care. “Honestly, I’ll never be ready to jump from an airplane flown by you.”

“Stop your whinin’ for Christ’s sake.”

Lance winced as he eased his legs over the side of the cot. He’d stood twice during the night, making sure he had the strength in his legs for it. His shot limb didn’t appreciate it.

His chest throbbed and his heart raced from the exertion as he stood once again. A sheen of sweat covered his arms. Each movement made him lightheaded. He extended a hand to the Wildman.

“Thanks, Paul. And not just for dragging me out of that hole. For everything. Your information has been vital to everyone.”

Paul hesitated for a moment before taking it. “It’s been... fun.”

Lance didn’t know how any of this had been fun, outside of his sudden and extensive romps in the hay with Cass, but he was afraid to ask for clarification. Paul was a strange man. “What did you do before this? Before the Xavier virus?”

“CIA.”

Lance held a hand to his chest and laughed. He broke into a fit of coughs halfway through that hurt even more. Each hitch of his chest made flashbulbs pop in his vision. “Seriously, what did you do?”

“I worked for the CIA. Did I stutter?” Paul lifted his own pack from the ground and slid it over his shoulder.

“You worked for the CIA? No way.”

“Why? Cause I talk like a goddamn hillbilly? I am a hillbilly. I did surveillance tech for damn near twenty years outta Langley.”

Lance looked to Liz for help. She tried to shrug, but her pack was too heavy for her shoulders.

“Why do you think I have a safe room in the middle of my house filled with drones and cameras and shit? It ain’t for my health. Well, I suppose it is, but that’s not what I mean.”

Lance wasn’t really sure what he meant. He was about to ask another question when the blows against the walls stopped.

The silence that followed bothered him more than the racket. Were they still lurking out there? Listening for Lance to make a move? Or had they already fled to the safety of their underground lair?

“Goddamn vampire bastards,” Paul muttered. “It’s gonna be nice not to deal with their shit n’at anymore.” He glanced at his watch again. “Ten minutes and we’re gone.”

Lance hobbled toward Liz. Though it took more strength than he wanted it to, he put his arms around her and gave her a hug. It was their first true, heartfelt hug in years. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” She looped her arms around his waist and gave him a small squeeze back.

“For what? You saved me, not the other way around.”

“But you forgave me.” Her voice wavered. “And I don’t deserve it.”

“Like I said, we’ll call it even.” Lance released her and took a stumbling step back. He used his shot leg to hold his weight, and it threatened to buckle under him.

“Are you two done already? We’re about to play Evil Knievel, and you’re pulling this shit? Christ Almighty.” Paul walked past them, shaking his head.

“I’ll miss you too, Paul.” Lance gave him a tiny punch in the shoulder. He tried to mimic the Wildman’s accent. “Ya crazy bastid.”

“That was Boston, not Pittsburgh. Nice try.”

“Yeah, well.”

Liz wiped tears from her face and let out a small laugh. “Lance, you can’t even stand and you’re still making jokes.”

“It’s what I do.” Lance leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

He tried to imagine what Cass was doing at that moment. Was she standing at the edge of the forest, sighing in relief as the Vladdies retreated? Was Colt beside her? Did her heart ache for him as his did for her?

He pictured her ludicrous hair and smiled.

“What is it?” Liz asked. “Are you thinking of her?”

“Yeah. She has a mohawk now.”

“A mohawk? You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. She’s something special.”

“Enough yappin’,” Paul said. “It’s time.”

He spun a large wheel in the middle of a metal door that Lance hadn’t seen until then. He didn’t have a view of it from his cot. The wheel made a full rotation and stopped with a click.

The door swung outward, into a bedroom.

Or what had once been a bedroom.

The walls were stripped away. The far left corner of the ceiling had fallen in. Drywall and splintered wood covered the carpeted floor. Mattress stuffing mounded in another corner.

Through the places where the walls had been, Lance could see a church in the distance. The first rays of daylight cut across the sky as he limped to the opening.

“They really fucked your house up.”

Paul stopped beside him and peered down the wall to the ground below. He spit a wad of tobacco through the opening and watched as it arced to the overgrown grass. “They sure were pissed off that they couldn’t get to me.”

Liz grunted as she shifted her backpack. “Can we get going? This thing is going to kill me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said. “Stop your belly achin’.”

He led them through the ruins of his home. Most of the walls and flooring were gone. His clothes had been shredded. The cabinets from the kitchen weren’t even in the house anymore.

The sink sat in the middle of the floor.

“Everything but the kitchen sink. How about that?” Lance leaned against the Wildman’s shoulder, taking some of the weight off his leg.

“That ain’t funny.” Paul walked him past the kitchen to a gaping hole where a sliding door should have been.

“It’s kind of funny.”

Lance went outside first, holding onto the remnants of the railing around a wooden deck. Liz followed, bending over at a comical angle so the bag wouldn’t fall from her back.

Paul pointed across the street. “I got both vehicles stashed over there.”

It took Lance longer to get down the stairs than he’d expected. Going down hurt his shot leg much more than moving on level ground. The pain in his chest neared blinding levels by the time they reached the bottom. His muscles had already grown fatigued. He had to rest against the side of the house, carefully placing his feet between the fallen pieces of the walls.

The Wildman tapped his foot impatiently as Lance attempted to catch his breath.

“How far is it?” Lance asked.

“Fifty yards. I didn’t want to park too close because the damned vampires were tearing up all of my other shit n’at. Didn’t wanna risk them fuckin’ with the cars.”

Lance wilted. Fifty yards. He might as well have said they were going to run an Iron Man.

“Let’s get this over with.” Lance put a hand on Paul’s shoulder and got moving again. His stride hitched in an agonizingly slow rhythm.

Liz took the lead, having to shift her pack every few feet. She kept a better pace and put a dozen yards between them by the time they halved the distance to the cars. The back of her shirt had soaked through with perspiration. She finally dropped the pack to the ground beside a rusted-out Bronco.

“You couldn’t find a newer car than this?” Liz leaned against the fender, breathing hard.

“I don’t trust those new, high-tech cars. One little goddamn thing breaks on ‘em, and they don’t work.”

“But you have an entire safe room filled with drones and spy shit.”

“That’s different.”

Liz rolled her eyes and let out a short sigh. “You have problems.”

“Damn right, I do. One of ‘em is the fact that
I’m
the one dragging
your
ex-husband around.”

Lance wondered if that was how it sounded to other people when he and Cass bantered. If so, he made a mental note to stop it. That shit was annoying.

“Oh, goddamn it! Goddamn it to hell!” Paul ran toward the Bronco, leaving Lance ten yards away.

“What is it?” Lance asked. He kept hobbling along, though his pace had almost ground to a halt without assistance.

“Goddamn tires n’at!” Paul kicked at the rear tire and let loose a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush.

“Do you have a spare?” Liz asked.

“Would I be goin’ nuts if I had a damn spare?”

“You planned all of this and didn’t anticipate a flat? You learned how to fly that damn plane, prepped the thing on the runway, but didn’t get a spare tire for the truck?”

Paul stopped kicking the tire and glared at her.

“Don’t you give me that look,” Liz said, glaring back.

Lance was glad that he wasn’t on the receiving end of her wrath for once. He reached the front of the Bronco and sat on the bumper, sighing with relief.

Liz softened. “We’ll figure it out. Here, give me your pack so you can get everything sorted.”

“Yinz are gonna be the death of me. Literally. Christ’s sake.” The Wildman pulled the straps from his shoulders and handed the pack over with one hand.

When Liz took it from him, her shoulders stiffened. “This is all your pack weighs? You made me lug that armory around while you’re carrying a pillow on your back? You son of—”

“I hate to break up your lover’s quarrel, but I need to get to my mohawked goddess sooner rather than later.” Lance waved for Liz to help him. “Let’s get the other truck loaded up with your stuff while Paul figures out what to do. I need to sit down in the seat before I pass out.”

Liz jabbed her finger at Paul. “This isn’t over.”

“Better you than me, Wildman,” Lance said. “I’ve paid my dues with her.”

“Don’t you start too,” Liz said.

“Hey, I’m just—”

“Quiet!” Paul hissed.

Lance shut up and listened. At first, he didn’t hear anything but the lazy morning breeze blowing through a maple tree behind him.

Then he heard the distant roar of accelerating engines.

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C
ass struggled as they tossed her into the back of the Jeep, though it was only for show.

Colt’s men had locked her inside the cabin for the night. Eifort and Brown were allowed to help defend the compound, though Cass assumed that they’d been under the major’s watchful eye.

The night had been uneventful for the most part, at least from the sound of it. The fires had kept the Vladdies at bay for one more night.

Cass hoped that Brown and Eifort had managed to spread the word of today’s escape. Would the other people go for it? How many would choose to stay behind and attempt to defend the compound? Had more fled at sunrise?

She had so many questions and no way of getting answers.

“You couldn’t fall in line, could you?” Colt asked as he slid into the front passenger seat. “You just had to be a pain in the ass.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “What is it with people like you?”

“People like me?” Cass’ hands and feet were bound, and she had to struggle to get to a seated position in the small backseat.

“I’m sure you’ve fought with authority your entire life. You just can’t shut up and listen to your superiors.”

“You think you’re so superior? You think any of us are? We’re all just waiting around for the day the infected kick in the front door and take us out. We’re all on borrowed time.”

One of Colt’s men climbed in behind the wheel and started the Jeep. He gave Cass a baleful glance in the mirror before putting the vehicle into gear and backing into the driveway.

Cass looked out her window, searching the field for Brown. She spotted him standing by the solar array, talking to a small group of people.

Four soldiers stood several yards away, watching him with obvious disdain. Cass hoped those were the only four soldiers left behind. They could be handled.

As they pulled through the tree line, Cass got a glimpse of the tank. A man’s torso poked through the open hatch on the top, his eyes roaming over the people in the clearing. That could pose a problem for Eifort and Brown. The tank might not be overly effective against the infected, but it was still an incredible weapon against men.

Cass tried to keep her face emotionless as she turned back to Colt. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“I’ve already told you. Someone has to make the hard decisions around here. You and your ilk aren’t willing to do that.”

Cass thought about the first days of the Xavier virus.

The morning her roommate showed the early signs of infection.

The bloody knife in her hands as she stood beside her friend’s bed, watching her life pool on the mattress.

She’d made hard decisions.

The hardest.

“If you’d told us what you were planning, we would have helped you. I could have talked Joe and Adam into coming along. You didn’t need to threaten everyone like that.”

Colt shook his head. “We both know that isn’t the truth. You don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you for that.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it.

“Do you mind not smoking in the car?” Cass asked. “I’m worried about secondhand smoke.” She had to suppress a grin when she realized she sounded like Lance. The thought came with a pang of sadness.

Rather than respond, Colt leaned back in his seat and watched the road through the windshield.

They drove in silence for the next fifteen minutes as Cass worked at her bindings. She failed to make much progress by the time they stopped in a residential area somewhere inside of Greensburg.

Cass hadn’t been to this part of town in any of her scavenging runs. It wasn’t run down, not many parts of Greensburg were, but the homes were smaller and held less in the way of usable goods.