The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged (23 page)

Close.

Too close.

Cass threw her flashlight ahead and gripped her axe with both hands. The tunnel was narrow, limiting her range of motion. The flashlight rolled to a stop in the dirt, the beam aiming at the wall.

Sickly gray skin flashed in the entrance of the next tunnel. An eyeless face pierced the veil of darkness, stepping into Cass’ path.

She swung the axe like a batter swinging at a fastball. The tips of the blade dragged along the wall, slowing the speed of her blow.

Blood spurted from the vampire’s neck as the axe sunk into engorged muscle. The blade bit deep where the shoulder met the neck. The beast wailed and fell to the ground, flopping in the muddy earth. Arterial bursts shot against the walls as it spun wildly, its arms swiping at Cass.

The axe was pulled from her grasp, the blade still embedded in its flesh.

Cass dove over the beast as it reached for her.

Its claws sliced through her shirt, inches from her stomach.

She landed on her chest.

Scrambled to her feet.

She grabbed the flashlight, angling it so the beam fell across the dying vampire, and left it sitting in the dirt.

The Vladdie gurgled behind her, its flailing bulk filling half of the tunnel.

Cass hoped the body and bright flashlight would slow the progress of those storming after her. She ran on, rounding the final bend. The opening to the tunnel loomed ahead, light spilling inside.

Colt’s legs disappeared through the hole.

Adam and Joe stood at the base, looking up, shouting for Colt’s men to haul them out.

The bedlam coming behind them rumbled closer.

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T
he concussion from the explosion thrummed in Brown’s ears.

Heat baked off the burning RV in waves.

He lifted his head and looked around at the inferno behind him. The man in the front seat burned, his skin already blackened. Flames spread to a pickup truck with a camper attached behind it. A woman climbed from the cab and slapped at the flames, patting them out with her bare hands.

Colt’s soldier by the cabin jammed a new magazine into his rifle. As he took aim again, the top of his head snapped back. Red mist sprayed the air behind him. His face collapsed to the lawn, gray matter oozing into the grass.

Eifort appeared in the window of the tanker, her eyes wild when she saw the destroyed RV. She shouted something at Brown, but he couldn’t hear her.

He looked back at the tank.

Dust enshrouded it, limiting visibility. Brown could still see the barrel jutting from the cloud, unmoving. How long would it take for the man inside to reload the cannon? How much time did they have before he fired another devastating shot?

Emmett pushed himself to his feet and staggered sideways. His balance was shot. The heels of his hands pressed against his temples as he stumbled his way toward the tanker.

Eifort climbed out of the passenger door and ran to him, her mouth working as she shouted something else.

“I can’t hear you,” Brown said, his own voice muffled in his head.

She jabbed her finger at the tank and mouthed for him to run.

Brown shook his head. “We can’t leave the—”

A thunderous explosion rocked the side of tank. Flames engulfed it. Two more eruptions burst under its body, shooting yellow fire through the treads.

Emmett stared at the tank, dumbstruck. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know!” Eifort stood beside him, watching as black smoke plumed into the sky.

Her words penetrated the buzzing in Brown’s ears, and he thanked God that his hearing damage wasn’t permanent. His head pounded from the concussion of the tank shell exploding so near him.

The hatch on top of the tank opened, and the driver climbed out. His shirt caught fire as he jumped from the front, and he had to roll in the grass to put the flames out.

Eifort drew a bead on him before he’d even put himself out. She jogged toward him with the rifle butt against her shoulder. “Stay down!”

The man rolled to his back and sat up. 

“I said stay down!”

Brown followed her, his stride still unsure, his legs faltering. He was too old for this kind of action. The others had grown hard from clearing the forest and lugging supplies, but he spent his days mending the injured and seeing the sick. His body hadn’t acquired the condition of the others.

The soldier lifted his hands over his head and stayed on his ass in the lawn.

Eifort stopped in front of him, barking orders that Brown couldn’t hear. He finally caught up and stopped beside her, resting his hands on his knees. Smoke from the burning tank blew across the clearing, searing his eyes and throat.

“What happened to the tank?” Eifort shouted down at the man.

“I don’t know!”

“I happened,” a voice called from the trees. “Don’t shoot me when I come out.”

Nathaniel walked out of the forest, his long, gray hair, blowing in the breeze. A shoulder-fired rocket launcher held in front of his chest. “Are there more of them around?”

“It’s clear,” Eifort said. She kept her rifle trained on the man in the grass. “Except for this piece of shit.”

Nathaniel walked over to them, his eyes fixed on the soldier. “Figured you folks could use a hand.”

“What are you doing here?” Brown asked. A slight ringing still ran through his hearing, but it was manageable.

“Been worried about you guys for days.” He pointed at the man on the ground. “Ever since they showed up. I ran into a father and son this morning, Jim and Junior. They were armed to the teeth and walking past my place. They said they was leaving cause everything had gone to pot over here. Figured I better head over and see what I could do.”

“And you decided to take on the tank?” Eifort asked. “Ballsy.”

“Threw two propane tanks and a gasoline can under it, and then hit the son of a bitch with this.” He held the rocket launcher out for a second. “Got it from that Jim guy. He said he felt bad leaving yinz high and dry, but he had to protect his boy. First time I ever shot one of these. Helluva rush.” Nathaniel glanced over at Brown. “You look like hell, Doc.”

“It’s been a rough morning.” Brown put his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Thank God you got here when you did. You just saved a lot of lives.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “Don’t mention it. You’ve helped me more than enough with me and mine. Besides, I’m just sorry I couldn’t do anything before he blew up that RV back there. Anyone inside?”

“I saw someone burning in the front seat.” Eifort kicked the soldier in the side of the face.

The man groaned and held his face. He curled into a protective ball, watching them through his fingers.

“Why are you doing this?” Brown asked him.

The soldier stayed silent.

Eifort kicked him in the kidneys. He cried out and rolled over, hands going to his lower back. Brown, a man usually sickened by such violence, fought to keep himself from lashing out as well. He wanted to kick the man to death, to stomp him to a bloody pulp.

“Tell me what your plan was,” Brown growled. “What are you really doing here?”

“You’ll kill me if I tell you.” The man spit blood into the grass. His eye was already swelling from where Eifort had kicked him. His eyes darted around, finally settling on the barrel of Eifort’s rifle. “She’ll shoot me if I do.”

“She’ll shoot you if you don’t.”

The soldier thought about it for a moment, his gaze still fixated on the rifle. “Colt told us to keep an eye on the both of you while he was gone. He said to kill you if you tried to do anything.”

Brown looked back at the burning wreckage of the RV. Everything he’d spent the past few weeks working toward had fallen apart. “Why does he want us dead?”

“Swear you won’t shoot me?”

“I won’t shoot you,” Brown said. “Now tell me what Colt’s plan was here. Why did he do this?”

The man peered around at all of them, fear plain on his face. “He wants to control everything. We go from camp to camp, taking them over and installing our men in as the new leaders.”

“Is that what happened in Annapolis?”

“Yeah. When Colt killed the man leading them, the people came after us. We had to take most of them out just to get away. But we left a couple of men there who are putting it back together now.”

Eifort shook her head. “But why? Why murder the few people who are still alive?”

“He says that killing a few is better for the whole. If our people are running all the camps, then he can call the shots. He’ll control the whole east coast and can coordinate us against the Weres. You have to understand—we’re doing this for the race. We’re going extinct unless someone takes charge again.”

Nathaniel grunted. “The more things change, right Doc? Some terrorist bastards hated our government, so they spread a plague that wiped everything out. Now, we’re fightin’ for what’s left, tryin’ to stay alive, and we still have pieces of shit like this wanting to control us. Killin’ us.”

What remained of Brown’s hope for the remnants of humanity evaporated at that moment. He realized that he’d been fighting for a cause that was already lost. The idea of rebuilding a small society, of giving protection and food to survivors, was foolhardy. In the ashes of the old world, in the shadows of dead cities, the strongest would always lord over the weakest.

The time of man had passed.

Men like Colt and Ralph, the hardy and the resourceful, the insane and the angry, would always jockey for control. There were no laws, governments, or police officers to keep them in check. They would always have followers, those too meek to fight for themselves, and they would amass militias and armies.

Had Brown been any different? He’d helped take over the compound from Ralph and Tony, had been a party to their killings. He had assumed control.

Did his motivations matter? Did his good intentions change anything?

The end result was the same.

Those living there had died or were fleeing.

The inevitable still happened.

It had just been delayed by a few weeks.

The soldier saw something in Brown’s eyes. He shrank back, his words coming faster. “Jones was going to run this camp. Colt promised me that the next one, some place up in Armstrong County, would be mine. And I would have treated everyone real good. I wouldn’t have—”

“Stop.” Brown held a finger up to silence him. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain calm as he asked one final question he needed answered. “Did Colt kill our friend?”

The man replied in a soft voice. “Colt knew right away that he was trouble.”

Brown’s throat constricted. His eye cut up to Megan, and he saw a look of dread spreading across her face. The rifle shook in her hands.

“He killed Lance?” Eifort asked.

A fresh wave of nausea gripped Brown. Had his own stupidity allowed Lance to be led away and murdered? How could he not have seen through Colt’s guise? He’d been blinded by the man’s smooth words and seeming desire to help.

“You murdered our friend.” Eifort’s voice cracked. “You killed a brave, sweet man because you wanted what he had here.”

“Not me.” The man held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Colt is the one who—”

Eifort’s rifle barked twice.

Two blotches bloomed in the man’s chest. He collapsed to his back, his eyes wide, staring into the smoke-filled sky. His mouth worked a few times and then a waxy pall fell over his face.

The man before them had killed, had terrorized, and had done so because he craved power. As Brown stared at the body, he fought the urge to scream at the sky, to curse whatever God had allowed such things to happen.

Eifort lowered her rifle. “I didn’t promise not to kill you, you sack of shit.”

Several engines behind them rumbled to life, one by one. Diesel trucks and equipment-laden RVs idled as the drivers prepared to get on the road.

“Where are you folks heading?” Nathaniel asked. He peeled his gaze from the body and looked to Brown.

“The coast. We can’t keep the infected at bay any longer here. The water will give us a better chance. Those of us who are left, anyway.”

Nathaniel nodded. “Chatter on the radio says they’re getting smarter.”

“They are. We have more than enough room for you, Ashlee, and Teddy. Come with us. There’s nothing left here.”

Eifort blew out a slow breath. She kept staring at the dead man in front of them. “I’m going to start the truck.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Brown said. He watched her jog back toward the truck before turning his attention back to Nathaniel. “Men are always going to be fighting for power, you know that. We’re getting as far away from the infected, and everyone else, as we can. You’re welcome to join us.”

“We’re good here, Doc. There’s no sign of our place during the night when we’re in the bunker. They’ll never find us there. ‘Sides, it’s home, ya know?” He dropped the rocket launcher beside the body and stuck out his hand. “Good luck to you, Doc. I’m real sorry to hear about Lance. He was a good man. Ashlee sure was torn up when we heard about him.”

Brown took his hand and gave it a firm pump. “Thank you. It has been a tough few days. Are you sure you won’t come with us?”

“To be honest, we’re probably safer where we are than just about anywhere else.” He bobbed his head at the vehicles behind Brown. “Now get outta here. Take care of your lady friend there, Doc. She’s something special.”

“I will. Give Ashlee a kiss for me.” Brown turned and jogged back to the truck, his aches and pains temporarily forgotten. He climbed into the passenger side.

Eifort was in the driver’s seat, staring through the windshield. Her knuckles blanched as she squeezed the steering wheel. “He killed Lance.”

Emmett touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have stopped it.”

“I just wish I’d seen through Colt’s bullshit earlier.” She angled her head so her cheek rested against his fingers. “I feel so bad for Cass. I hope she kills that asshole.”

“Knowing Cass, she’s probably taking care of him right now.” Brown looked to his right at the row of vehicles beside them. “We have to get going, or we aren’t going to make it. We took too long to leave already.”