Pack Animals [An Undead Post-Apocalypse Thriller]

by Cain, Kenneth W.

  The city was hauntingly empty today. He liked it this way, much as he liked his current role. Sooner or later, others were going to try and unseat him. There would be elections, and there would be those who opposed his rule. Because of that knowledge, he needed to secure this half of the United States soon, so he could draw enough support for his final plans to come to fruition. He’d not gone through the trouble of stealing this presidency only to let some election take it out of his hands. He was going to ensure he would be in power for a very long time. They could call it whatever they wanted, but this was his country now, whether they wanted it to be or not.

  Although he had the support for a hostile takeover, he wanted to assess the situation before he made any rash moves. It would be hasty to employ forces that way and would likely only lead to a revolt. He had to cement his place in the future of this new nation.

  Landon kicked at some trash in the road, wishing he had kept a few more soldiers behind for cleanup duty. There was unsightly litter everywhere. The town should be sparkling clean when news got back to the people that he’d successfully secured the east. Yes, they’d only make a new mess, but much of this job was all about making impressions on people. As such, he wondered if he might be able to get a few of the surrounding troops to help out. With no opposition, they wouldn’t be missed, and maybe they could help make the town more presentable. Unfortunately, he didn’t see any troops nearby.

  For now, he enjoyed his solitude. It would likely be the last such seclusion for a while. There was much to do. Having duped the nation, this was his own personal palace to celebrate and toast himself, and while he could take anything he wanted and do anything he wanted, he had to be calculating with every move. Even if he was so powerful now that he could—

  Landon observed the vehicle at the end of the street. It was a wagon of some sort. He hadn’t remembered it being there before, and he had strolled down this road several times prior to this day. An unfamiliar man sat atop the carriage, seemingly oblivious to Landon’s presence.

  How did he get past my security?

  Yet he knew the answer, as he’d allocated most of his troops to securing the east.

  Landon scurried down the sidewalk, stepping over large pieces of debris. His stride was long and purposeful, reflective of his confidence. When he got close enough to the wagon, he saw two soldiers nearby and felt somewhat relieved. Apparently, his men had captured this intruder.

  He slowed his pace to a calm walk. He didn’t want to look like he wasn’t in control in front of his men. That would be a sign of weakness. And above all, Landon Hughes did not see himself as being a weak man. Landon saw the gray-haired man sitting up top and was astounded that he recognized the man.

  There were things he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask of this man, but more than anything he just wanted this man gone. “You there. You soldiers—”

  The man sitting atop the carriage glared at Landon. Their shared history was not a good one. Landon hated this man, and Decker hated him right back. Had he been mistaken in thinking he had killed the man? He remembered setting the bomb himself, watching the building explode. No man could survive an explosion like that.

  Yet, here he was. Ogling Landon with those curious eyes, with all the wrong questions. Those eyes knew what Landon had done and condemned him it. What the man did not realize was Landon Hughes would not be held accountable for anything.

  “Where did you find this man?” He tried to stay calm but his anger overwhelmed him. Landon didn’t want to lose control. “I said, where did you—”

  A few yards away from the carriage, one of the soldiers turned to him. What Landon saw unnerved him. He didn’t recognize the man. Whoever he was, he wasn’t one of Landon’s men. Maybe he was from some far away post, instructed by his superiors to bring Landon this prize, but Landon didn’t want to let his guard down.

  That bastard Decker better not have blabbed.

  Landon backed up against the wagon to face the soldier, not the least bit threatened by the scientist. The soldier came closer, which made Landon nervous, though he refused to let the man know. The soldier looked slightly mad, what Landon chalked up to fighting an undead horde. That would make anyone a little crazy.

  “Time to pay the piper there,” the soldier said, his face twisted in disgust.

  Landon shrank back against the wagon’s cargo, slightly worried about the crazed man. Hopefully the other soldier would be more level headed. Something moved behind him, causing the wagon to rock. Landon glanced over his shoulder, saw the heavy tarp, and couldn’t help but wonder what was underneath.

  When the other soldier finally came into view, Landon had to catch his breath. Behind the long hair and scruffy beard, he saw Allen Forrester, one of his most disagreeable pawns.

  Landon felt his throat swelling, finding it difficult to control his words. He heard himself sputter out something that sounded distant. He was unsure of what he had meant to say.

  “Hello, Landon,” Allen said.

  Landon pressed his back against the carriage, wishing he could sink through the cover and hide inside. At least there he would be safe from these ghosts.

  Yes, that’s what they are—ghosts.

  They had come back from the dead to punish him for his crimes.

  “Allen, you don’t have to do this,” Decker said.

  Why would Decker defend him? Clearly Allen wanted blood. Landon could see it in his face. Both Allen and this other man had the guns to do it, too. They intended to kill him.

  The thicker man shouted, “Shut your pie hole.”

  “Dale, please—” Decker said.

  Allen’s eyes never left Landon. “This has been a long time coming, Hughes. All the men, the women, and children you’ve killed.” His words came with such spite. “You’ve earned this death.”

  Panicked, Landon did the only thing he could think of at the moment. He threw the cover aside, hoping to blind the men long enough to escape. If he managed that, maybe he could get to his men in time to rid himself of this intrusion. Both men drew their guns, but their attention went elsewhere, offering Landon a brief opportunity he intended to take.

  Both men lowered their guns, and Landon felt pretty powerful just then, having intimidated these men into submission. He looked around, expecting to see his men, the reason for Allen and his friend’s hesitation. Then came the realization of what they had been looking at. He heard a growl followed by the wagon rocking wildly. The carriage moved behind him, and he had to lean against it just to keep from falling over. Landon went to run but was restrained. He struggled against whatever had a hold of his arm, thinking it might be Decker, then felt a sharp pain.

  Landon screamed, or at least he thought he did. He was unsure of whether the sound came out or not. But he had pissed himself upon seeing their decaying faces, the drool dripping from their lips.

  He pleaded with them, offering Allen and the other two men top positions in his new regime. Surely, they couldn’t refuse. All men had a price. Landon had paid many men more defiant than these. But his words didn’t make sense. With his heart beating so rapidly, all that came out was gibberish. That was when he realized one of the creatures had ripped out his throat.

  The monster ate his larynx. His heart slowed, and Landon became aware the fight was over before it even started. He felt his body slam against the bars of the cage, as the creatures pulled at him. Allen and his friend tried to yank him away, though he could not understand why they would bother after all he had done. But their efforts failed.

  Landon felt those muscular arms force his face against the bars. There was nowhere left to go. The pain was numbing him as the pressure increased. He felt a sharp pain on his left shoulder and wanted to look, but could not pry his face from the bars. One of the creatures retreated to the other side of the cage, carrying one of Landon’s arms. He hadn’t even felt it be torn from his body. The other kept tugging and pulling at Landon. His vision faltered, then a strange pop. His field of visio
n narrowed to what his one remaining eye could see.

  His heart had slowed, nearly to a full stop. He could barely hear it rapping against his torn chest. Even it numbed as the infection began to take hold. He wanted it to end, to beg for them to kill him before the end came. Though numb to most everything at this point, he felt cold steel against the back of his head, Mercy had come after all.

  “Rest in hell,” the voice said.

  The gun fired.

  CHAPTER 80

  The soldiers were right about this place. It was not only cold but dead. They hadn’t seen a single soul in the two months they’d been here. A strange ashy snow layered the ground, likely the result of the last fire cannon that had come through these parts. Everything here had been laid to waste. But Sydney worried there might be more to this town than what they saw from outside appearances.

  She saw Isaac while staring out through the window. He strolled back toward the building where they set up camp with a used water test kit in hand. His smile spoke of his success in finding clean water. Orson ran out to meet him. More and more, her son was becoming a young man.

  Orson had taken a special radio from the other soldiers, one she desperately hoped they would never come looking for. They had used it to listen in on the business unfolding in the new United States, what was left of it. She heard the news of Landon Hughes’ death. Had Allen done this? She could only hope he would someday come back to her and share of his journey.

  In the wake of the president’s death, those in charge did their best to reform the government. Already, two parties had formed and had candidates for presidency, the Progressive Party, drawn from America’s past, and the newer Federalist Party. From this start, a new nation would be born, split of opinions—a government by the people, but never really for the people. In the end, the greed of mankind would always win out. Sooner or later, there was bound to be another war.

  Sydney believed they had their own opportunity to start over here in this town. Perhaps they could structure their own government in the way they saw fit, learning from the mistakes of the past. Maybe they could someday establish themselves in the western half of the United States and create a new nation. She doubted any form of government would ever truly be free of greed, but she held hope that these strong people would be good leaders, that the whole would be more important than the wealth of the few.

  She looked back at Orson, making sure he stayed close to Isaac. Something behind her son caught her eye, a man running toward them. She felt her heart jerk, rose, and found her sword on the table beside her. She rushed out the door and saw Isaac and Orson watching her, unaware of what was coming up behind them.

  The approaching man screamed, “Get down, get down!”

  She spotted the strange creature trailing the man, a man she now recognized as Dale. This creature had six arms for legs along the underbelly of its extra-long torso. It chased after Dale like some sort of giant half-human insect. It had to be at least nine feet long, with a mouth as wide as a football. It was a horrid sight, but she couldn’t help but notice Allen wasn’t with Dale. She was a mix of emotions, frightened yet worried about Allen all at once.

  Dale was waving his arms. “Goddamnit, get down!”

  She dropped to her knees but wondered why Dale would have them do this instead of just running away. As the monstrosity came into full view, from out of nowhere, an explosion of fire erupted. A rocket launcher had fired a missile at the creature, which struck the creature’s midsection, instantly disemboweling the horrible thing.

  Everyone ran to Dale.

  When they got to him, Sydney took a moment to examine the creature. Judging by its swollen belly, the creature had eaten well. Was this the thing that scared those soldiers? She wondered how many men had met their end at its hands. She stepped forward, and with one quick swipe, she rid the horrid creature of its head.

  Someone moved in the corner of her eye. She turned and saw Allen. Her stomach twisted, and she wanted to run to him, but she couldn’t stop shaking long enough to do anything of the sort.

  Orson ran to Allen, and he received his boy in his arms.

  In that instant, Sydney was so happy she could have died. It was perfect. This was how they would begin life anew. They would rebuild and be happy. She had hope like never before.

  INHUMAN

  Upon reaching Minnesota, a strange mist rose from the snow-dusted earth, like several wispy ghosts speeding about, here and there. The cold air along with thick fog made it hard to breathe, but Karen managed because the last thing she wanted was for the other soldiers to think she was weak, just because she was a woman. Truth told, they all seemed to be struggling to breathe, but damned if she was going to show any limitation in front of these numskulls. Besides, they could run into danger anywhere.

  Rumor had it, a few soldiers from the first squad had traversed these parts and spotted an unusual mutie. Not the large hulking creatures or the ones that hopped about like frogs but something far worse. Only one soldier had returned from that patrol, and to her, he had sounded like he’d lost his mind, babbling like a madman.

  That won’t be me.

  No, this time she was going to prove herself to the others. She had replayed the situation in her head several times, considered every possibility, how to handle herself in the face of adversity. All she needed to do was stay focused, not get distracted, and keep her eye on the prize. If she could manage that much, these men would have no choice but to accept her into their fold. It was weird to think they may not have ever seen matters this way, that she needed to be recognized, but this was never about them; it was about her, her needs.

  Staff Sergeant Michaels waved her on. “Radcliffe, get yer ass up front and take point!”

  For a split second, she gazed at him, observing his deep sunken cheeks, how dark the pits of his eyes looked. Then, she hurried up front, rifle lifted, and led the men through the dense fog. She hoped her excitement for being chosen for this role didn’t show, though she could feel the heat on her cheeks. This was exactly what she’d wanted from the moment they left base, to take point. More so, it proved Michaels had faith in her, if nothing else. She didn’t intend on letting him down.

  Waving the end of her rifle back and forth, it sliced through the fog leaving trails of vapor rolling in its wake. Visibility was at a minimum, no more than ten feet in any direction revealed to her at any given moment. Everything appeared gray, nothing but emptiness. It all bled into one mass, so she felt as though she was walking on the mist itself. Plus, the complete absence of sound only made it worse, seeming to envelope them, with the only audible noise being the crunch of their boots on the frigid ground.

  Nothing about this feels right.

  A few of the others were whispering back and forth. They seemed as on edge as she felt. She tried to pick up on what they were saying, and although she wasn’t able to, she had a pretty good idea of the gist of those conversations. This was about as fucked up as things got. They looked scared too, and so was she, though she would never admit it to any of them, even if asked in private. If it wasn’t so damn quiet, maybe she wouldn’t be worrying so much.

  Then, she did hear something, what sounded like feet scurrying across the ground to the left. She spun on a dime, rifle aimed, ready to fire. The others followed her lead, likely having heard the same noise but not as quick to react. There they stood, the entire squad facing who knew what, the thick fog hiding whatever it could be.

  The silence returned, this time absent of even their boots crunching snow. She saw something out there, a person maybe; she couldn’t be sure.

  “Sir,” she whispered, “I think someone’s out there. A human.”

  He stared at her, his moustache turned down in a frown, his eyes scrutinizing her words. Then, he lifted a hand to his mouth and yelled, “Anyone out there? Show yourself right quick or we’ll fire.”

  Nothing but silence followed. Worse yet, she had gotten distracted long enough to lose sight of the person she
had seen in the fog. “I don’t—”

  “Damn it, we aren’t fooling ‘round here. You show yourself now or—”

  A trample of feet behind her got her spun around to the point she nearly fell. Even before she could regain her footing, she heard someone tackle another person. She didn’t have to look to know it had been Michaels because of the way his words were cut off. By the time she got to where she could see anything, Michaels was gone. The others stood near where their staff sergeant had been, looking as unsure as she felt. Judging by their gaping mouths, wide eyes, trembling bodies, at least a couple of them must have seen something disturbing.

  “What the hell just happened?” she whispered.

  None of them answered for a moment, regarding her almost as if they didn’t recognize her.

  “I— I’m not sure,” Franklin said.

  She could barely see his features in the fog, his dark face a blur. But his eyes told her everything she needed to know. He was terrified.

  “What do you think it was?” she asked.

  “That…that thing wasn’t human.” Huggins stared off into the fog, likely in the direction he had seen the culprit take off. “No way, man. Just fuckin’…”

  He didn’t pick up where he left off. But she didn’t require him to. All she needed to know was that whatever they were up against, it wasn’t human. It had taken their staff sergeant too, which meant it was a threat. That was more than enough to justify her actions.

  “I think we should shoot to kill, fellas.” She eyed them up, one by one, unsure if they would listen to a woman, let alone someone not in charge. They appeared receptive though, so she took on the role regardless of what they might feel. “You see anything, anything at all, you kill it. Got me?”