Read The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation Online

Authors: J.D. Demers

Tags: #Zombies

The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation (31 page)

“Hey Christian,” he grunted as he threw a fist and hit me in the face.  I could feel warm blood trickling down my collar.

Cecil grabbed me and slammed me against a tree.  He raised his pistol to my temple.  The oil filter on the end was cold and oddly soothing to the otherwise pounding headache I had.

“Cecil!” I choked.  He threw his elbow into my jaw and my knees buckled.  He grabbed me and pinned me back up against the tree.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said as he backed away.

I tasted copper as blood pooled in my mouth.  I spit on the ground.  “I know everything.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” he sneered.

“I know about your brother.  I know about Chad and how you killed Manns.”  I coughed up some more blood, and gritted my teeth.  “And I know you are planning to kill all of us.”

Cecil tilted his head to the side.  “You think you know everything, don’t you?  You think you knew my brother?”

I shook my head.  “I didn’t know him, but I know he was going to kill my friends!  I didn’t have a choice.” 

“Well, let me tell you about the man you killed.”  Cecil paced back and forth. 

“Charles was a good man.  He spent two tours in Iraq, saving soldiers’ lives as a medic.  That’s right,” he nodded.  I winced, not wanting to hear about the man I killed.  “He was a veteran just like you.  He comes home, becomes a firefighter.  Finds a girl, gets married, has a little boy.  Yeah, he was a damn good man!”

“You think I wanted to shoot him?” I cried.  Cecil responded with a kick to my stomach.  I toppled over, but the former policeman picked me back up, resting me against the trunk of the tree.

“I’m not finished!” he grunted.  “You’re going to hear what you’re responsible for!”

Cecil grabbed my vest and pulled me face-to-face with him, his gun pointed at my neck.  Spit flew from his lips onto my cheek as he continued his tirade.

“So, my brother’s wife falls to the plague when the shit went down.  I rescue him and his son.  We hide for days until we come across a couple of other people.  We help them, save them.  Save others.  We build a refuge at the airport.”

His forehead pressed against my temple and his jaw shook with anger.  “Then one day, he returns from a run and tells me how some asshole started shit with them.  Yeah, that was your buddy, Chad.” 

Cecil backed up and pointed his pistol at my head before he went on.  “A few days go by and suddenly, my brother and his crew don’t come back to the hangar.  I go out, find his dead crew, and then see my brother walking around as one of those fucking dead-heads!” 

He shook his head.  “I had to put him down permanently!  Then, I have to go back and tell his son that he was murdered.  Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“I’m sorry…” I exhaled.  “I’m sorry about you brother.  I didn’t want to shoot him,”

“Shut up!” he roared.  “I don’t want to hear your sniveling, you piece of shit!”

I closed my mouth.  The haze had almost completely faded by now, but my head was still pounding and my stomach felt like it had a hole in it.

He cocked his head again, as if he was slowly going mad.  “You think it’s just about my brother?  No…  See, after I lost him and his crew, I had to take people with me on scavenging runs that never even shot a BB gun before.  One guy gets bit, turns into a scab.  He brings a pack of those animals back with him to our hangar.  They slaughter everyone!”

He moved closer to me and pressed his pistol to my temple.  “I heard them tear apart my nephew.  I had to listen to him scream for his dad, the man
you
killed!”

I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting a bullet to leave his gun and take half of my head off, but it didn’t happen.  He backed up, still pointing his pistol at me.

“You’re going to want to hear this,” he grinned wickedly with the radio in his hand.  He pulled the earbud from his ear and disconnected it from the radio.

Fish’s voice came through the speaker in mid-sentence.  “…Dobson, you there?”

“Dobson, go,” the Major’s voice returned.

“No luck so far,” Fish said dryly.  “Recommend everyone meet up at the crossroads.  We can come up with a new game plan.”

“Roger that, First Sergeant.  See you in one-five mikes,” Dobson replied.

“Cecil, you get that?” Fish asked over the radio. 

Cecil gave me a stern warning with both his eyes and pistol, and then spoke into his radio.

“Roger that,” he said as he pressed the transmit button.  “Trent and I heard something a little bit down the road.  We’re going to check it out.  Probably just a wild pig or something.  It might be a little bit until we meet up.”

I could have called out to Fish while Cecil was transmitting, but there was no guarantee that Fish would have gotten the message and Cecil would have definitely shot me.

“Roger that, Cecil,” Fish said evenly.  “Fish out.”

I thought about rushing Cecil, but that idea was futile.  I wasn’t much of a fighter, and Cecil had twenty years of police training.  He easily subdued me after his sneak attack. 

“What are you going to do to them?” I asked, already coming to terms with my own death. 

I hoped that keeping the one-sided conversation going would delay the inevitable.  I needed time, but I didn’t know what for.  All I knew is that as long as he talked, I wasn’t dead.

“Oh, their fate is coming, Christian.  I guess that you being here tells me that Manns was stopped before he could cause an outbreak in the camp… too bad.”

“Why would you want everyone to die?  There are kids there!” I said furiously.             

“My nephew was a kid!  Did you give a fuck about him?” he said, flushing with renewed anger.  A lightbulb seemed to go off in his head.  “How did you figure it out?”

“I found Chad’s cell phone at the dentist office.  I know how you tortured him.  How you brought a zombie in to kill him,” I said accusingly.

Cecil raised his eyebrows.  “Kill him?  No, I didn’t kill the piece of shit…”

“But…” I started to say, but a realization hit me.  “You… you turned him into a scab?”

Cecil grinned.

“Why… why would you do tha—” I stopped, grasping what Cecil had planned.  “Chad is here.”

I wasn’t asking a question.  Cecil wanted Camp Holly to fall like the aircraft hangar he and his brother had fortified.

I gritted my teeth together.  “How did you do it?”

Cecil smirked.  “I infected Chad with some zombies I lured to the dentist office with a few poppers.  That’s also how I got them to surround the place before you guys tried to come and rescue me.”

“Why didn’t Chad come after you?  When he changed he—”

“You must think I’m an idiot or something,” Cecil interrupted.  “After he was infected, I pulled him on top of the roof. There was a ladder and access in the back store room.  He wasn’t going to come after me with dead-heads surrounding the building, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get back through that access hatch.  I fixed that door good.”

Movement caught my eye.  I looked over at Trent and saw his body quiver.  Cecil followed my gaze.

“I wish I could infect you, but it seems that is impossible.”  Cecil raised his pistol and shot Trent, who was slowly turning into a zombie, in the forehead.  He re-aimed and did the same to John.

“I was going to do you and Fish when you guys came to rescue me,” Cecil continued, approaching me again.  “But Jenna was with you.  So, I figured I would wait on Chad, and whatever other scabs he picked up on the way, to start picking off your people.  When Gardner’s hunting party went missing...”

“You thought that was your chance,” I finished for him.

Cecil nodded.  “Now you’re getting it.”

“So when we’re all dead… then what?  What if Chad comes after you?”  I shook my head.  “You’re putting yourself in just as much danger.”

“Danger is all there is anymore, Christian.  But not for you.  Soon, you won’t have anything to fear.”  Cecil pistol whipped me across the face.  Another explosion of stars and pain erupted as I crashed to the ground.

I reached down to push myself up, but Cecil’s boot caught me in the ribs.  The blow knocked the wind out of me and I rolled onto my back.

Something hard was rolling around in the blood that was pooling in my mouth.  I spit off to the side and saw one of my back teeth land in the grass.  When I turned back around, Cecil was standing over me, pistol pointed at my face.

I knew he was going to pull the trigger now.  I tried to think through the waves of pain.  I had to say something to keep him from killing me.

“Cecil,” I began, but something had caught his attention.

With his gun still pointed at me, he turned his head to the right.  I saw his eyes start to go wide and he lipped the words “What the…”

I glanced in the same direction.  The bushes had just fluttered.  Something big was in them. 

Suddenly, a flash of brown and black charged out of the brush.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

Chad

June 26
th
Afternoon

 

 

Boomer flew out of the bushes toward Cecil.

Cecil, with his quick reflexes, spun and turned his pistol on the canine.

“No!” I shouted.  Cecil was standing over my chest.  I brought my right leg up and kicked as hard as I could.  My foot hit his groin just as his weapon discharged.

The kick was enough, and the bullet missed Boomer.  The German shepherd closed the distance at astounding speed and pounced before Cecil could get off another shot.

Boomer’s teeth tore into Cecil’s wrist.  The gun went off again, but it was now flailing around as Boomer ripped at the arm holding the pistol.

I kicked Cecil in the stomach as the man tried to pull his arm free from the vicious attack.  I backpedaled, trying to stay away from the pistol as it erratically fired off a few more rounds.

Something whizzed through the air.  Cecil cried as a bullet tore into his shoulder and spun him around and to the ground.

I glanced over to where Boomer had come out of the brush.  Fish was moving our way.  His .45 pistol was aimed squarely at Cecil as the man writhed around on the ground.

“You… fucker!” Cecil hissed through clenched teeth.  Boomer had let go of Cecil’s arm.  His gun had fallen to the side and Fish quickly kicked it out of reach.

Cecil started to sit up.

“Stay down!” Fish roared as he kicked him in the face.  Cecil fell back, and before he could react, Fish was on top of him.

I scampered to my feet.  Major Dobson, Enrique, Campbell and Pitman all exited the tree line with their rifles at the ready.

“You fucking bastards—” Cecil began, but was quickly silenced by Fish’s elbow.  Blood gushed from Cecil’s nose.

“We took you in,” Fish growled.  “I trusted you.  You killed my men.”

“After… what you guys did,” Cecil said, then paused to spit up some blood.  “After what you guys did, what do you—”

Fish dropped his knee into Cecil’s sternum, knocking the wind out of him.  “I don’t give a shit.  You came after me and mine.”

Campbell and the rest formed a semicircle around them.  Boomer galloped over to me.  His jowls were dripping with Cecil’s blood.

“What do you… expect,” Cecil coughed.  “You got everyone I cared about killed!  I’m… I’m no different than you!”

Fish’s face was stone.  “Do you know the difference between you and me?” he asked, pulling Cecil’s eight inch knife from the sheath.

“What?” Cecil spat.

Fish grabbed Cecil’s shirt and drew him in close. 

“Unlike you, I’m still alive.”

Fish thrust the knife through Cecil’s throat, pushing it up as far as it would go.  His icy stare locked onto Cecil’s face as the man’s eyes grew wide and then went blank. 

Fish rose to his feet, letting Cecil fall back to the ground.  He glared over to me.  “You alright, kid?”

I nodded.  “Ye-yeah.”

“You look like shit,” Enrique said.

“I’ll be fine.”  I wiped blood from my face.  “How did you find me?” I asked Fish.  “You said you guys were going back to the crossroads.”

Campbell and Enrique checked on Trent and John’s bodies.

Fish yanked out a piece of white paper.  “Got your note.  Didn’t want Cecil thinking that we were on to him.  Everyone else is back at the boats.”

“We showed up a few minutes after you,” Campbell added.  “Ran into Fish and Enrique.  Met up with Major Dobson and followed Boomer until we heard Cecil talking.”

“I owe you an ass whoopin’,” Pitman growled as he approached me and laid his hand on my shoulder.  “But I’ll wait until you heal first.”

I smirked.  “Thanks… I think.”

I looked back down at Cecil.  I couldn’t help but pity him.  I know he killed Chad and Manns.  I know he was responsible for the deaths of Gonzales and Kyle, and he murdered Trent, John, and most likely Rob, in cold blood.  But, would I have been any different if our roles were reversed?  What if I held him responsible for the deaths of everyone I cared for?  Karina, Fish, and all the people back at Camp Holly…  Wouldn’t I seek revenge just like he had done?

His friends and family were dead because of us.  They were not bad people.  Two groups of decent people on opposite sides of some food led to this.  I wondered how much of the surviving population had resorted to killing each other in order to survive.

I reasoned that it would have come down to us or them.  And now, Cecil wouldn’t kill any more of our people or cause harm to our camp.

“Get your gear, kid,” Fish said, bringing me back from my thoughts.  “We need to link up with the rest of the search party.  Kolin said his dog got a hit on Gardner’s scent.”

Dobson made his way over to me.  “Don’t you ever do anything that stupid again, do you understand?  You’re too valuable,” he said sternly.

“Give him a break,” Campbell said.  “If it weren’t for him, we may never have found Cecil.”

“What do you mean, ‘wasn’t for or him’?” Fish chuckled.  “More like if it wasn’t for his mutt.”

Boomer began to stir next to me as I glanced at Fish. He gave me a wink and then his eyes shot open as a spear burst from his shoulder.  Fish fell forward with an agonizing wail.

“Scabs!” Pitman yelled.

Boomer had already started barking and I cursed myself for not paying more attention to him.

“It’s Chad!” I yelled.

I caught of glimpse of my old friend just before the vegetation exploded as bullets rippled through the trees and bushes.  Everyone had opened fire at the ghosts in the tree line.

I ran to Fish, who was trying to pick himself up off the ground.  The six foot wooden spear that had punctured him from the back was protruding about a foot and a half just below his collarbone.

“Fish!” I yelled, coming up next to him. 

“Mother… Shit… Piece of…”  Fish was using every curse word in the book. 

“Do you want me to pull it out?” I said over the hail of gunfire.  The wails of multiple scabs echoed in the distance.

“Hell no!” he said through clinched teeth.

The firing stopped. 

“I no see anything,” Enrique informed us as he approached the tree line.

“Pitman!” Major Dobson commanded.  “Sweep the area!”

Both Dobson and Pitman disappeared into the brush.

Campbell and Enrique came over to me and Fish.

Fish was fighting off shock.  His face went white with pain.  He sat down to relieve the weight of the spear, letting it rest on the ground.

“We need to get Daniel out here,” Campbell said and reached for Fish’s radio.  “I’ll send a boat back—”

“The fuck you will… sir,” Fish grunted, and grabbed the radio first.  He ripped his ear piece out.

“Fish—” Campbell began, but Fish had already hit the transmit button.

“Jenna, come in,” he barked.

“This is Jenna, over,” she replied.

“Get the search party… back to camp,” Fish said, clenching his jaw in a vain attempt to absorb the pain.  “Everyone, repeat, everyone goes!  Leave one boat.”

“What are you doing?” Campbell asked.

Fish glared at Campbell.  “With all of us out here, the camp is all but defenseless.”  Fish groaned as he touched the spear tip.

“But the scabs are out here.” Campbell pointed out.

“For now,” he grunted as he hit the transmit button again.  “Everyone goes on guard when you get back.  Lock down the camp.  Copy?”

“I get it,” Jenna replied.  “Leaving now.”

Pitman and Dobson returned.

“We got one of them, probably wounded another,” Major Dobson said, approaching us hastily.

“Pitman,” Fish said, gritting through the pain, “get your big ass over here.”

Pitman walked over and knelt next to Fish.

Fish grabbed the end of the spear that was poking out of his shoulder.  “Break it.  And don’t take your time.”

Pitman eyed the Major, who just nodded.  Pitman shrugged and grabbed the spear just outside Fish’s back.  Fish tensed as a wave of pain racked over him.  The large man then grasped part of the spear further away. 

“Is this wise?” Campbell asked, but Pitman had already started to pull.  The end snapped near the base of impact.  Fish’s face contorted in silent agony. 

Fish looked up at Pitman.  “The other side,” he said tensely.

Pitman looked as if he was about to protest.

“Now!” Fish barked.

“Alright man,” Pitman said, shaking his head.  He reached down and pulled.  Fish slumped over, breathing hard.

Enrique walked up to me and handed me my weapons.  “Why did you yell Chad?” he asked me.

“Those scabs were led here by Chad,” I told everyone while I reattached my rifle to its sling.  “Cecil didn’t murder Chad, he infected him.”

“I wish I could kill that traitor… again,” Fish said, gritting his teeth as he stood up.

“We need to get Christian back to the camp,” Dobson said as he handed Fish his pistol.

“Can’t,” Fish disagreed.  “We need Christian and Boomer to track those scabs.”

“We can come back for the scabs,” Dobson countered.

“Maybe, or they can make their way back to the camp.  I’m not taking any chances.  We go.  You’re welcome to wait for us by the boat.”  Fish marched over to the tree line, shaky but somehow still on his feet.

“Captain,” Dobson said, looking for backup from Campbell.

“Sorry Major, he’s right.  We can track them to their nest now, or wait for them to pick us off later.”  Campbell walked over to Fish.  “Are you sure you can make it?”

“I have two purple hearts, Captain,” Fish grunted, “and both were worse than this bee sting.  And where I was, there weren’t any medics.”

“Captain, I have to object,” Dobson said with force.

“Objection noted, sir,” Campbell sighed, and then turned to me.  “Do you think Boomer can track them down?”

I nodded, but Dobson wasn’t done.  “Captain!” he growled.

“Major.  Can it!” Fish grumbled.  “You should know better.  Either we fight them on our terms, or we’re at their mercy.”

Dobson glared at Pitman who slightly shook his head ‘no’.  The Major took a deep breath.  “Okay, what’s the plan then, Master Sergeant?”

Fish checked the chamber on his .45 pistol. 

“Boomer tracks them,” Fish stated.  “We follow, and we kill them.  Pretty basic shit, sir.”

Dobson reluctantly nodded.  “Alright, but I take lead with Christian.  If shit goes FUBAR, we evac him.  Understood?”

Everyone agreed.

“And Fish,” Dobson added, “pack that wound.”

Fish snarled and grabbed a handful of dirt.  He spread it around his wound while Pitman did the same to other side. 

“Locos cabrones,” Enrique muttered as I coaxed Boomer into following the scabs’ scent.

We moved out.  Boomer was in front with Dobson and me.  Fish and Campbell were behind us while Pitman and Enrique brought up the rear.

I peered back at Fish to check on him.  Blood spread from his wound with every step he took, but the dirt he had used to coagulate the blood flow absorbed some of it.  His face was a pale mask of determination and I wondered how much more he could take.  The physical body could only take so much damage before it gave up.  He had been a Green Beret and a sniper.  I knew he was tough, but he wasn’t unstoppable like Rambo in the movies.

My head was still raging and it felt as if someone hit me in the face twenty times with a brick, but I kept thinking
If Fish can still go on with that injury, I sure as hell can, too
.

After thirty minutes of stalking through brush and small waterways, Boomer started to get antsy.  His ears perked and the hair on his back started to rise as we stumbled across a small stream.  On the other side was four foot high bluff lined with trees and palmetto bushes.

I put my hand on Dobson’s arm as I knelt to the ground.  He turned and signaled for Pitman and Fish.

“Pitman, can you sneak up there?”  Dobson quietly asked as the two made their way up to us.

“I’ll go with him,” Fish grunted, but Dobson shook his head.

“I know you’re a tough SOB, Fish,” he whispered, “but you’re in no condition to be crawling through the mud.”

To my surprise, Fish didn’t argue.

Pitman removed some gear and prepared to sneak up the bluff.

“Move back,” Fish hissed to the rest of us, and we retreated twenty feet back into the brush.

I watched Pitman sneak across the river and start to shimmy up the side of the bluff.  He was amazingly quiet for someone his size.

The main part of his body disappeared into the brush as he crawled through the bushes.

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