The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged (2 page)

Lance understood his trepidation. A single Vladdie could tear both of them to pieces in the blink of an eye. But what if this wasn’t a vampire? What if Billy was out there in the bushes, bleeding to death, unable to speak, listening as they quibbled over what to do?

“Keep your light on my back,” Lance said. “I’m going to check the spot that sound came from.”

“But—”

“It’s only thirty yards or so in there. I’ll be fine.” Lance focused on keeping his breathing normal. He didn’t want Joe to see how nervous he was. “Just keep that light on me.”

Joe crossed himself, mumbling a small prayer. “Good luck.”

Lance pulled a pistol from a small holster clipped to his belt and crept forward, maneuvering around the damaged bush. His eyes roamed the encompassing darkness around him, slowly sweeping his spotlight back and forth. He watched the forest floor, doing his best to avoid stepping on sticks and loose rocks, wanting his movement to be as silent as possible.

A thicket of briars trembled ahead of him.

The branches rustled again, before falling silent.

Lance paused, watching, listening. He whispered, “Billy?”

After five seconds without a response, Lance inched along.

The blood trail led to the thicket.

Lance exhaled, long and slow, not realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Joe’s spotlight cast lengthy shadows from everything behind Lance, their inky blackness dancing across the uneven surface of the forest floor. Stars punched through the tree canopy above.

Fatigue settled into Lance’s legs as he continued forward, hunched over, knees bent. He thought about standing and walking normally, but fear kept him crouched, not wanting to expose anymore of himself than necessary.

He stopped ten feet in front of the thicket, shining his light into it. It was dense with thorny stalks and leaves, impossible to see through.

Lance opened his mouth to call out, but stopped himself.

A stench wafted through the bush.

Something sour.

Putrid.

He recognized the odor of the Vladdies. Their stink filled his nostrils.

Shit
.

A twig snapped to his left.

Slowly, Lance twisted to his left, bringing his light around.

Movement behind a tree. Something shifted out of sight.

A breath caught in Lance’s throat. He’d walked into a trap.

The thicket shook again.

Warm liquid dropped onto his hand.

Blood.

He looked up, saw Billy’s body wedged between two branches in a tree above him.

The boy’s face was shredded, flaps of flesh hanging in ragged strips.

Throat torn out.

A snort came from his right, powerful and wet. Lance had heard the biggest bulls do that down in the subway.

The first shriek came from the other side of the thicket. It echoed through the forest, silencing the chirping crickets.

Two more followed in quick session, roaring from the right and left.

A Vladdie leapt from the ground behind the bush and grabbed onto a low-hanging branch, swinging from one bulging, striated arm.

Lance pointed his spotlight at it. He caught sight of a wide, ragged scar running across its opaque face, ending at the corner of its mouth. The light glinted off its fangs.

It bellowed and fell from the tree, its maw contorting in rage and pain.

Lance spun on his heel and ran.

The thunderous pursuit of the vampires urged him to push his body to its limits. They were coming, closing the distance as they barreled through bushes and over saplings.

More shrieks came from deeper in the forest, moving closer. Dozens, maybe more.

Joe’s light blinded Lance. He held a hand up to shield his eyes and ran straight for the torch.

“Come on!” Joe angled the light to Lance’s right and cried out at what he saw. “They’re right on you!”

Branches clawed at his eyes as Lance forced his way to the edge of the clearing. He leapt over a pile of stones and burst through the tree line, not slowing as he ran for the nearest overhead light.

Pressure and pain bloomed in his back as something heavy slammed into him.

He sprawled in the grass, sliding face first. The pistol and spotlight flew from his grasp.

He rolled over.

A Vladdie, its muscles prodigious and veined, stood before him. Its pale skin reddened under the burning lights. Saliva dripped from elongated canines.

Joe yanked the trigger of his rifle, his panic forcing him to forget to squeeze the shot off.

The bullet went wide.

The beast lunged for Lance’s prone body, an ear-piercing shriek reverberating through the compound.

Lance watched as it descended upon him.

––––––––

G
unshots barked.

Bloody holes punched into the chest of the infected.

Lance rolled to his left, feeling the impact of the Vladdie on the ground beside him. He scrambled across the lawn for his pistol as more shots rang out.

Grabbed the gun.

Spun around.

The vampire dragged itself along after him, its legs snaking behind it.

The sight of its eyeless sockets sent a wave of revulsion through Lance, cutting through his terror. He put a round through its head. The body collapsed to the ground and remained motionless.

Two Vladdies stood at the edge of the woods, slamming their forearms into the ground in frustration. One of them took a bullet to the arm before they turned and fled into the shadows.

Lance’s shoulders dropped as he stared at the body before him. Its skin darkened as he watched.

Joe stuck a hand out and helped Lance to his feet. “You almost bit the big one. Sorry I missed that shot—I panicked.”

“I can’t believe it chased me into the light like that.” Lance kept a wary eye on the woods, in case another of the infected felt suicidal. He tried to swallow, but found his mouth and throat parched. His fingers trembled.

“He’s a biggun.” Joe nudged the dead body with his rifle.

People flowed out of their homes, forming a crowd in the middle of the clearing. They pointed at the dead vampire, whispering their fears and anxieties to one another. A few men formed a protective circle around the crowd, guns at the ready.

It was a practiced, coordinated maneuver. If anything happened, the pregnant women were to be protected at all costs.

Eifort ran over with Brown and Cass in tow. She wore a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. Her hair was disheveled from sleep, her face slightly puffy. The M4 she always carried was tucked against her shoulder. She’d given Lance a small lecture when he’d referred to it as an M16 a few weeks before. He’d almost been punched when he called a magazine a clip.

Cass had her axe, looking medieval as she ran across the field with it. Her matted hair looked less ridiculous than the mohawk she’d styled it in recently.

“Did you make that shot from the cabin?” Lance asked Eifort as she stopped beside him. “Nice work. Saved my ass. Again.”

“Barely. I stepped out of the back door right when you cleared the trees.” She looked down at the body. “What the hell were you doing in the woods?”

“Being a dumbass, no doubt.” Cass glared at him. “You’re supposed to be on patrol around the perimeter, not going for a moonlight stroll.”

“Straight to the dumbass stuff? No, ‘glad you’re safe, Lance?’” He put the pistol back in its holster.

Doc Brown, shirtless and red-faced, stopped beside them. He peered around the area. “Where’s Billy?”

Lance frowned. “They got him.”

Brown closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he turned to Joe. “Get a handful of men and double up on the guards around the perimeter. Tell everyone to go back to sleep. We’ll hold a meeting in the morning and tell everyone what happened.”

“What, exactly, did happen?” Cass asked. “Why did that thing chase you this far into the light?”

Brown held up a hand. “Wait until we’re inside the cabin. We don’t need to get everyone all worked up until we can figure out exactly what happened.”

“You want me to tell everyone to go back inside?” Joe asked. “They aren’t gonna like that too much.”

“You’re right,” Brown said. “I’ll tell them myself. Go get those men and keep them posted until morning.”

“Got it.” Joe jogged toward a group of people standing in front of a cluster of RVs.

The doc turned to Lance. “Are you all right?”

“It hit me in the back, but I’m fine.” Lance looked at Cass out of the corner of his eye and mumbled, “At least someone asked.”

“Wait for me in the kitchen. Megan, would you get him a glass of my Scotch?”

Eifort nodded. “Sure. We could all use one after this.”

Brown walked over to the waiting crowd, quieting them with his hands.

Eifort led Lance and Cass back to the cabin. She ruffled her hair and exhaled loudly. “That’s not something you want to wake up to.”

“I’m just glad you’re a hell of a shot.” Lance tried to count how many times she’d saved him with that rifle. He didn’t know how she’d been as a soldier before it all fell apart, but she’d been as good an ally as anyone could have asked for since.

Cass socked him in the ribs. The blow hurt. She was small, but she packed a punch. “Did you go into the woods to find Billy? By yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Why the hell didn’t you wait?”

“There was blood everywhere. I was afraid he might bleed out while I was trying to get help.”

“You get me knocked up, then go and do stupid shit like this. And you wonder why I go straight to the dumbass stuff.”

They walked through the back door of the cabin and meandered their way to the kitchen. Eifort disappeared into the bedroom she shared with Doc Brown and came back a moment later with three glasses and a bottle of single malt. She’d put on basketball shorts, her modesty returning now that the threat had passed.

Cass filled a cup with water and sat at the table.

Eifort poured three fingers worth into Lance’s glass and handed it to him.

He took a seat beside Cass and pretended to savor the smell of the alcohol. “Jealous?”

“Hilarious.” She rolled her eyes. “Being pregnant sucks.”

Brown came in a minute later and sat down, rubbing his balding head. He took a sip of the scotch and settled in. “They’re restless out there. Not having an attack like that for almost two weeks had them feeling comfortable, for a change.”

“Me too.” Lance had felt relatively safe since they’d taken the compound from Ralph. After the death of the prepper from Hell, things had quieted down.

As much as they could when you were surrounded by mutated monsters, anyway.

Lance ran his tongue over his teeth, thinking about where to start. “You aren’t going to like what just happened.”

“Of course we aren’t,” Brown said. “A boy died.”

“I think we might be in some deep shit here.” Lance looked over at Cass, thinking about the child they would have in a few months. How could he protect them if what he thought had just happened was true?

“What is it?” Cass asked.

“When I was walking the perimeter, I noticed that there weren’t any shrieks coming from the trees.”

Eifort leaned forward. “
None
?”

“Not a single one. I could actually hear crickets.” Lance had grown accustomed to the bleating beasts and had learned to sleep through the night. Cass still struggled with the racket sometimes, but she’d been doing better over the past week or so. “Then I noticed that Billy wasn’t at his station. I found his rifle and spotlight by the empty chair. A trail of blood led into the woods.”

“Poor kid.” Brown threw back the rest of his scotch in one go.

“As I was standing there with Joe, we saw something move further into the trees. I was afraid it might be Billy, so I went in to check it out. Joe stayed back and kept his light trained on me.” Lance’s nose wrinkled as he remembered the stench that hit him. “I followed the blood trail until I found Billy’s body wedged up in a tree.”

Cass held a hand up. “Hold on. They jumped into the light, grabbed the kid, dragged him into the woods, killed him, and then stashed his body in a tree?”

Lance nodded. “They set a trap. Three of them attacked me at once, one in front and two at my sides. They sat and waited for someone to come in after him.”

“They set a trap?” Eifort asked. “How? They’re fucking animals.”

Brown poured another glass of booze. He stared at the table.

“I’m with Eifort,” Cass said. “They’re mindless brutes. They can’t stop fighting each other long enough to eat. Remember how they were in the subway? They just kill, eat, and shit. They aren’t capable of problem solving.”

“Listen to me.” Lance locked his gaze on hers. “They lured me out there. All of them stayed quiet until I was right in front of them. It was a trap.” He jabbed his index finger against the table. “And they picked the youngest, weakest person on watch to kill.”

Guilt washed over Lance. He never should have given Billy a shift. The boy’s family had died during the first few days of the outbreak, and he’d somehow worked his way to the compound by himself. He didn’t have a parent watching over him. Lance should have assumed part of that responsibility. At least, enough to tell the kid no when it needed said.

They all looked to Brown, the oldest and wisest of them. He’d become the unofficial leader of the compound. People looked to him for guidance. The stress showed in the lines on his face, the bags under his eyes.

But he never complained.

“You’re sure of the details?” he asked Lance, finally.

“One hundred percent. They were waiting for me.”

“Perhaps the mutation isn’t quite finished.” Brown slouched in his seat, hands still cradling his glass. “We assumed their transformation had ended because their bodies quit distorting, but maybe we were wrong.”

“What are you saying?” Cass asked. “That their ability to think is coming back? Their memories?”

“I have no way of answering that. But if Lance is correct, and they set a trap for him, then they’ve regained some kind of rudimentary intelligence.”

“If that’s true, we’re screwed,” Eifort said. “It’s not like we have an overly complex method of surviving the night. With their speed and strength, a little bit of smarts will go a long way.”