The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged (8 page)

They lavished in his protections and ignored his evils.

These were the people who couldn’t be counted upon when the military presence arrived. They would fold, as they had before, and listen to whoever was in power.

Lance wondered how they’d survived for so long in such a hostile environment. Had Ralph found them during the collapse? Were they protected from the abominations devouring the planet, from those whose hunger drove them mad? Did their apathy come from not having to fight their way through the mindless hordes?

These were the questions raging through his mind as he carried armfuls of guns, grenades, and claymores through the compound. He wondered if these thoughts weighed so heavily upon him because of his fatigue or due to the reality of their ever-worsening situation.

By mid-afternoon, Lance had collapsed into the bed that used to belong to a tyrant. He slept through supper, not even rolling over as the cook shouted ‘dinnertime!’ outside his window.

When he awoke, the glow of the golden hour had settled upon the compound.

The other side of the bed was empty, though the blankets were wrinkled, the pillow dented.

Lance licked his dried lips as he worked his way to the kitchen and drank straight from the tap. The fog from his deep rest hadn’t evaporated yet, but he felt measurably better. His limbs still had the tight, sluggish feel of a heavy sleep as he lumbered out the back door and walked around the cabin.

Most of the compound’s inhabitants stood in a large semi-circle near the expansive solar array in the clearing. They looked up at Doc Brown as he stood on a chair, looking out over his captive audience.

He shouted instructions and encouragements, telling them that they would live through this as they had so much else. That no one could do more to them than what had already been done. That life, that the ruthlessness of nature, had hardened them, turned them into something that couldn’t be lorded over.

Lance thought the speech was a bit overdone, reminding him of the cheeseball pep talk given by Bill Pullman in
Independence Day
. But the members of the crowd nodded their heads and mumbled their agreement.

Eifort stood beside him, her rifle slung over her shoulder. The sadness that had settled in her eyes that morning was still there. Her grief encompassed her like a black aura.

Cass leaned against the bank of solar panels, hands stuffed in her pockets. She grinned at Lance as he approached.

“You were so out that I had to check your pulse when I crawled into bed beside you.” She reached up and ruffled his hair. “Feel better?”

“Much. How long was I out?”

“Six or seven hours. I thought about waking you for dinner, but you looked like a zombie when we were handing the guns out.”

Lance rubbed his stubble-covered chin, thinking about how badly he needed to shit, shower, and shave. The three Ss always made him feel better. “What’s with Brown hamming it up? Is he finally going for that Oscar he’s always wanted?”

“I think so. Tom Hanks will beat them though—he always wins.”

“That makes me sad.”

“What?”

“That I’ll never get to see another one of Tom Hank’s killer roles. You remember when he would lose a thousand pounds in a week so he could look like hell on an island or for a trial? Those were the good old days.”

Cass prodded at her insane hairdo, which had been fixed since the afternoon. “You mean the good old days when you were unemployed and married to a bitch who was cheating on you? Yeah, those were the best of times.”

“I’m so glad I have you around to shit on me when I’m feeling a little melancholy. Thanks, Cassie.”

“Call me Cassie again and see what happens.”

Lance concentrated on fighting off the smile that threatened to crack his face. He looked directly into her eyes. “Cassie.”

“Do you want me to kick your ass in front of everyone?”

“Sassy Cassie.”

“You’re dead.” She pushed off a solar panel and reached for his shoulders.

He dodged her grasp and backpedaled, moving with the newfound grace he’d discovered as he continued to improve his conditioning. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

“I’m faster than you.” She kept coming, smiling despite her obvious attempts not to. “Remember when you almost drowned after swimming fifty yards? You aren’t exactly an iron man.”

“That might be true, but you run like a girl.” He turned and sprinted for the cabin, moving as fast as he could while laughter sapped his strength.

Cass, caught off guard by his boyish taunts, gave chase, though he could hear her laughing too. She’d almost caught him when he reached the back door.

Someone called out to them from the crowd, but Lance ignored it. He had something else in mind, something which he was worried might not happen again. He feared what waited for them in the shadows.

“You look like a huge pussy to everyone outside right now!” Cass came in the door as Lance worked his way down the hall.

Lance cut into the kitchen and turned toward their bedroom. “Yeah, but you—”

His foot slid on the ceramic tile and he went sprawling to the floor, crashing into the dark cabinets. A twinge went through his shoulder from the impact. He didn’t move, resting on his side, chuckling at his clumsiness.

Cass burst into the kitchen and slid to a stop by the table. She held her stomach as she burst into laughter. “Serves you right.”

Lance grabbed the counter and hoisted himself to his feet. In two steps, he was on her, lifting her into the air like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.

He carried her toward the bathroom, still laughing.

“You better be careful, carrying me around like this. People will start to think you’re the man in this relationship.”

“Har har.”

“And where are you taking me? Is there something specific you have in mind?” Her gaze narrowed as she cupped his cheek.

“I thought we would have a bible study.” He stepped into the bathroom and kicked the door closed behind them.

He didn’t bother taking their clothes off as he climbed into the shower, still holding her in his arms.

She reached down and turned the water on with one hand as her other explored his chest.

Lance focused on the moment, letting his fears and concerns slide away.

––––––––

“T
hat was unexpected.” Cass pulled a fresh tank top over her head. She’d taken a red marker to it, drawing odd designs across the white cloth. When Lance had asked what she was doing, she’d shrugged and said it needed Cassified.

“Yeah, well, you looked like you needed a good sexing.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“I do what I can.”

He attached the clip of his gun holster to a clean pair of jeans. Yanking them on, he found his belt. The pressure of the looming night had already consumed their sexual afterglow.

Cass sat in front of a mirror, styling her hair. She paused when she saw him grinning at her. “What is it?”

“Why do you continue worrying about making a fashion statement?”

“Because I like it. I couldn’t give a damn about making a fashion statement.”

“Aren’t you the one who said that kind of shit didn’t matter anymore... while you were taking a knife to your hair?”

“I wouldn’t have a mohawk if I was worried about guys wanting to fuck me. I already have you on lockdown, so I’m trying different stuff. Sue me. Why are you acting like this is some kind of big concern, all of a sudden? Are you worried about tonight?”

Lance ejected the magazine from his pistol and checked the ammo. Full. “Aren’t you? The Vladdies have come at us with a different plan of attack two nights in a row. They’re getting smart and changing tactics. We’re sitting here and hoping the lights will continue to keep them away.”

“Yeah, I’m scared too.”

“Really? You look like you just took a valium. I’m so nervous that I’m going to have to check my underwear as soon as you leave the room.”

“I’m not about to shit myself like you are, but yeah, I’m worried. Our smarts, and daylight, give us an edge. What if we don’t have that advantage next month? Hell, next week?”

“And that’s why I’m scared.”

“But that doesn’t do us any good. Moping around isn’t helping the situation. We need to go out there and face them head on. If they step into the field, we blow the motherfuckers away.”

Lance ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t cut it since everything had fallen apart. “You’re so eloquent. You should have been an author.”

“Says the guy who just said he needed to check his underwear.” She walked over to him and looked up into his face. “I’ll protect you, Lance York.” She gave him a soft kiss before going over to the corner and grabbing the holster for her axe from the floor.

It hadn’t seen much use since they’d settled into the compound. She’d stuck with carrying a gun around for the most part. The axe, more than any firearm, scared the locals.

They treated it like a snake that could bite at any moment.

The crowd in the field had dissipated, spreading to the far edges, standing by the trees. The doubled guard duty from the night before had quadrupled. Most of those living in the compound now stood, or sat, at the edge of the clearing, watching the forest with wide, fear-stricken eyes.

“Looks like Brown is putting everyone to work.” Lance pulled his boots on. They were a hardy pair of Wolverines that he’d scavenged from the Westmoreland mall. “Did I miss anything about the military guys? Shouldn’t they have been here by now?”

The heat of the summer made his feet sweat profusely when he wore the boots, but he figured that to be better than twisting an ankle while running away from a vampire. Besides, he only put them on when he thought bad things were about to go down.

Cass looped the holster over her shoulders and secured it. “Dunno. I thought they would have come today. Maybe they’re playing it safe and scoping us out.”

“You think they sent a scout to see what our operation is?” Lance hadn’t thought of that before. He shivered at the idea of someone sitting in the woods during the day, watching them as the Vladdies did at night.

Just when he’d thought that the day was safe, someone new came along and screwed it up.

“That’s what I would do,” Cass said.

The light outside the window waned.

Nightfall had arrived.

Lance walked over and lifted Cass’ axe from the corner. He helped her guide it into the holster before grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around. “Don’t take any chances tonight, OK? Just a swat from one of these things could make you miscarry.”

“I want this baby as much as you do.”

“I know, but—”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “Trust me.”

Lance took a deep breath. “OK.”

The doc knocked on the doorframe. “Are you guys done having your... uhh... fun? You were chasing each other like a couple of teenagers while I was giving my hero speech.”

“Hero speech?” Lance’s face scrunched. “Wait, you know how ridiculous you sounded?”

Brown shrugged. “It worked. Besides, I’m not sure I want to take any guff from someone who was just chased by his much smaller girlfriend.”

“Small, but feisty,” Cass said. “How’s Eifort doing?”

“I’m fine.” Eifort stepped beside Brown. Her eyes still had a distant, unfocused look.

“There wasn’t anything—”

“I said I’m fine,” Eifort interrupted. “It’ll just take me a bit to get over it.”

“Listen, we just heard from Nathaniel,” Brown said. “He went out to see why the military hadn’t arrived yet. He said they’ve made a small camp down the road. They’re setting up generators and big area lights. It doesn’t look like they’re coming until tomorrow at the earliest.”

Lance checked the darkening sky through the window. “I wonder what they’re waiting for?”

“Maybe they’re as concerned about us as we are about them.” Brown grimaced. “It gets worse. He saw some of those holes you were talking about.”

“He went the whole way to Latrobe?”

“No. He saw them about a mile down the road.”

Cass walked toward the door and stopped in front of Brown. “So they’re moving their tunnels closer to us?”

“It would seem that way, yes.”

“That settles it then—tomorrow we’re going on the offensive. We can’t let them dig the ground out from under our feet.”

Lance asked, “Wait, how could they have tunneled that far? There is no way they could have dug the whole way from Greensburg in a month. They have to be coming from somewhere much closer.”

“Maybe,” Brown said. “But this is a conversation for the morning. For now, we have to—”

As if on cue, the first shriek of the night cut him off.

They left the cabin and joined the ranks in the field.

Everyone had a gun and light source of some kind. Most didn’t have the high-powered spotlights that the guards carried, but they had flashlights or lanterns.

Those didn’t supply the diffused, encompassing glow of the overhead lights, but their concentrated cones would agitate even the biggest of Vladdies.

Most of the pregnant women were hidden in the converted water tankers. Fresh cloves of garlic hung from the sides. There had been some debate over whether the masking smell would work on the newer, more intelligent infected. In the end, everyone had relented, agreeing to discuss it when time wasn’t of the essence.

The shrieks moved closer over the next hour, filling the night like an oncoming marching band. Muscled horrors danced just beyond the range of the spotlights, keeping to the shadows.

They darted between the trees, taunting the fearful guards.

Lance walked up and down the line, encouraging all who would listen.

“They can’t hurt you in the light. Stay in a line, stay calm. We’re safe here.”

He repeated the mantra over and over, hoping that some of his words would sink in, praying that someone would believe, even if he didn’t.

Sweat slicked his palms.

His fingers worked around a rifle he’d grabbed from a stockpile by the nearest RV.

A torrent of shrieks came from straight ahead of him.

Dozens, maybe hundreds, of Vladdies responded with their own ear-piercing howls.