The Hunger (Book 5): Decayed

by Brant, Jason

  That Adam had died while Greg still remained felt like the biggest insult of all.

  Adam contributed.

  Had a wife.

  An incoming child.

  Greg was a human waste of space.

  It should have been him on that cross, not his dear friend.

  He should have taken a bullet to the temple.

  Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the rheumy, blind eyes Adam had at the end. Greg felt the weight of the pistol in his hand. Heard the thunder when he pulled the trigger. The killing had been a mercy, but only for Adam. Greg would have to live with it until his end mercifully came.

  Since they’d made it to The Light, Greg had spent most of his time with Lilith, tending to her every need. He gave her a shoulder to cry on. Brought her food and water. Made sure she was comfortable in bed.

  Pregnant women were a confounding mystery to him, but he did his best to help her. She would smile one moment and cry the next, complain of hunger, then whine about her upset stomach a minute later. He didn’t understand it, but he knew Adam would have done everything he could for his wife.

  So now Greg would do the same.

  He knew that Lilith, like the rest of his friends, saw him as a hindrance, a cross they had to bear because they couldn’t bring themselves to leave him behind. Though he doubted he could change their minds after spending so much time with them, he swore he would do his best to improve.

  Greg wanted to help.

  To contribute.

  When Emmett Brown had come by his room, asking if he wanted to go on a supply run, Greg had jumped at the chance. Not just because he wanted to help his buddy hunt for the medicine they needed, but because he longed for some time away from the others.

  He had to clear his mind.

  Get some air.

  Contemplate his next move.

  Those weird cultists had killed his best friend.

  His only true friend.

  He had to get revenge.

  Emmett had the addresses of a handful of pharmacies within a few miles of The Light and a map to find them. They’d headed out several hours ago and had already hit three of the buildings, searching for a few specific things.

  They hadn’t found them yet.

  Greg wasn’t even sure what they were looking for, and he had to ask Emmett what the medicine was called every time they entered a new pharmacy. But the walking had done him some good. He was thinking a little more clearly.

  Now they were a couple of blocks closer to the bay, looking for a local mom-and-pop place. Some guy from The Light had joined them, a slender man in his forties who didn’t talk much, though Greg couldn’t remember his name. They’d gone through the usual introductions when they’d set out, but Greg had barely paid attention. He’d heard something about the guy being a guard, but had tuned the rest out.

  His mind kept wandering to the way Adam’s body had spasmed in his arms after he’d shot him.

  Each man carried a rifle and a pistol.

  Greg had his rifle draped across his back, a sling holding it in place.

  Emmett stayed quiet most of the time. About an hour into their search, he’d tried to explain to Greg that Adam’s death wasn’t his fault, but Greg had shut that down. He didn’t want to hear it.

  During their silence, he’d considered his options for revenge.

  How could he take out the entire camp of weird sex perverts in the north? Could he sneak in with a bunch of guns and shoot everyone? That felt impossible. There were too many, and he was a terrible shot. They’d probably cut him down before he took out more than a handful.

  A bomb? Could he put an explosive in the house to blow them all to hell? He liked the thought, but he didn’t know where he could get something powerful enough to take out an entire building. The idea of schlepping a bunch of propane tanks into the basement without being discovered seemed like a pipe dream.

  He could use a truck to transport the tanks that far, but he feared the cultists would hear the engine. There was no way he could pull that off.

  Maybe he could get the Vladdies to kill them.

  That Magnus King asshole had made some kind of pact with the beasts that kept them safe. If Greg could somehow get the vampires to think the sex weirdos had broken their end of the deal, maybe the Vladdies would wipe them out.

  How could he do that, though?

  Greg’s shoulders slumped as he traipsed along behind Emmett.

  What good was all his scheming?

  He was a moron, and he knew it. The idea of him pulling off some kind of assault against a crowd of people was beyond stupid. He hadn’t done a single positive thing since Adam had found him, and that would continue until the day Greg mercifully died and left the others in peace.

  Emmett stopped to consult his map. “I think the next place should be just around the corner.”

  “I’m following you, bro.” Greg winced as the b-word slipped out his mouth.

  If there was one thing he knew drove the others mad, it was his incessant use of the word bro. He’d struggled to rid it from his everyday speech on the islands, but had quickly given up. When Adam had died, Greg felt it more important than ever to try to purge that goddamn word.

  He knew it was stupid.

  Changing something so fundamental about himself felt like the first battle he had to win, however. If he could do that, then maybe he could do more. Do something valuable.

  Maybe he could avenge his friend.

  The guy from The Light spoke, Greg didn’t hear him because he’d already retreated into his thoughts.

  He kept returning to the idea of explosives.

  Sure, the propane tanks were a stupid idea, but maybe he could get his hands on a different explosive. He didn’t know a damn thing about that stuff, but someone else might.

  Megan had served in the military.

  Greg considered approaching her about it for a second, but he dismissed the idea. She would never help him. Not only would she refuse, but she would also ask a lot of questions about why he needed it.

  Megan would see right through him.

  “What about Paul?” Greg asked himself.

  “Hmm?” Emmett turned around. “Paul?”

  “What?” Greg stopped, regarding Emmett in confusion.

  “You said, ‘What about Paul?’”

  “I did?”

  “Yes. Just now.”

  “Oh.” Greg wanted to punch himself in the face. He couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to say aloud what he’d only wanted to think. It was the kind of moronic thing he did all the time that made the others think he was a complete buffoon.

  Think fast, he managed to internalize. Don’t give up anything else, you jagoff!

  “I… uhh… I was just… umm… wondering if… Paul maybe needed something while we were out here. You know, while we’re getting supplies?”

  “Oh.” Emmett’s brow furrowed. “Did he mention anything in particular to you?”

  Shit! Greg cursed himself again. He hadn’t considered Emmett asking follow-up questions.

  “Who the hell is Paul?” the guy from The Light asked.

  While Emmett explained to the stranger who the legendary Wildman of Monroeville was, Greg racked his brain for anything Paul had mentioned needing since they’d met. The Wildman liked to complain a lot, about pretty much everything, so Greg didn’t think it would be that hard to think of something he might want.

  But, in the heat of the moment, as Emmett’s explanation came to an end, Greg couldn’t think of a single damn thing.

  “Sounds like a weird son of a bitch,” the man said.

  “He is kind of strange,” Emmett agreed. The doc turned his attention to Greg. “You were saying?”

  “Uhh… he said… he maybe wanted a…” Sweat beaded on Greg’s forehead as he racked his brain. “A drone!”

  The word flew out his mouth before he even realized what he was saying. Over a year ago, while they were still on the islands, Greg remembered
Paul rambling about wishing he had a drone so he could scout out locations before they physically went there. He’d said it would be safer for all if he could do a little aerial reconnaissance.

  How that old memory popped in Greg’s head just then was a true mystery.

  “A drone?” Emmett scratched at his balding head. “I think I remember him saying that a long time ago. He still wants one?”

  “Oh yeah.” Greg pondered how to continue deflecting the doc from his real line of thinking, then settled on one idea. His old fallback word always made everyone tune him out. “He definitely wants one, bro.”

  Emmett turned away from him, continuing forward again.

  Greg fought the urge to pump the air with his fist.

  “There’s an electronics store pretty close to here,” the guard said. “We raided it for batteries a year or so ago.”

  “Maybe I’ll check that out while you hit the pharmacy.” Greg thought it might be a good idea to get away from the doc for a bit while he sorted his thoughts. The last thing Greg needed was to blurt out some other stupid crap.

  “Fine by me.”

  They walked quietly for fifty yards or so before Emmett stopped and pointed down the next street. “There it is.”

  The guard gave Greg loose directions to the electronics store, then said they would meet him there after they hit their place first. Greg set off alone, basking in the quiet of the abandoned city. He’d heard little except Lilith’s soft crying for the past few days. The relative silence surrounding him felt like a warm blanket.

  Saying he relished a few hours away from her sorrow made him feel terrible, but that was the truth of it. Just a bit of quiet time to gather his thoughts had been good for him.

  He followed the nameless man’s directions and found Frank’s Big Screen TVs a few minutes later. The front of the store was mostly glass, or had been before someone, or something, had smashed the massive panes out.

  Dirt, leaves, and old newspapers littered the front of the store.

  Greg’s shoes crunched the debris as he cautiously picked his way inside, letting his eyes adjust to the darker area ahead. Various phones, cameras, and other now-worthless junk covered rows of shelves and much of the floor.

  Looters had likely hit during the earlier part of the infection, hoping to steal high-priced items. Little had they known that none would have any value inside of a week.

  Ripped iPhone boxes were scattered on the floor beside a large display.

  Greg moved past them, scanning for more niche items. Large-screen televisions covered most of the back wall, their panels covered in dust and dirt. Not too long ago, Greg had managed to buy one using unemployment checks and selling some extra weed.

  He’d loved the damn thing.

  Video games looked incredible on it.

  A small home-theater demo room stood on his left, the inside as dark as a cave.

  Computer displays were on the right side of the building, so he headed over, hoping the drones might be nearby. If they even had any. Though he figured it didn’t really matter since Paul hadn’t actually asked him to find one. Now that Greg thought about it, he didn’t even know why he was looking.

  But he continued, nonetheless.

  What was I thinking about? he thought. In his head this time. He was fairly sure of it, anyway. I was missing Adam and hating myself for wanting to get away from Lilith, and…. revenge! I was thinking about asking Paul about explosives.

  Stopping at an aisle end cap with a display of dirty speakers on it, he rubbed his hands together as he thought about it.

  Paul was a weird guy who knew weird things.

  He knew about guns and radios.

  Surveillance.

  Maybe he knew something about C4 or whatever.

  One thing Greg knew for sure about Paul was he didn’t like to be hounded and pestered all the time. He wanted people out of his damned business. If anyone would keep their mouth shut about Greg’s explosive inquiries, it would be Paul.

  After a quick scan of the shelves near him, Greg moved on. He wondered what the best way to blow up the sex cultists would be if he could get something that had a decent boom to it. They’d all stood around a fire while that King jagoff rambled about power and glory.

  Blowing that bonfire sky high would be a good place to start. If Greg were lucky, he might be able to kill that smart Vladdie while he was at it—the one that spoke to Lance.

  That was the kind of thing that would make everyone proud of him.

  They might not see him as such a dipshit if he pulled that off.

  Greg spotted a box on a shelf to his right that had some propellers on it. He kicked a few empty boxes out of his way as he waded into the aisle, then knelt and examined what he’d found.

  Three different kinds of drones sat on the shelf, each with different specs and prices labeled on the front. He had no clue which would be better, so he settled with grabbing the most expensive one, tucking it under his arm.

  It weighed a lot less than he’d expected.

  Before heading out, he spotted large batteries on the shelf beside the drones and grabbed two that had the same name brand on the package. He didn’t know if they were compatible with the drone, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take them back anyway.

  As he started for the entrance, happy with his drone discovery and his plan to avenge Adam, he heard the soft rumble of an engine in the distance.

  Pausing just inside the broken front windows, he listened.

  The vehicle drove closer.

  3

  Cass pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to relieve the stress-induced headache she felt coming on. Ever since she’d hurt her back, and struggled with the muscles along her spine compensating for the injury, she’d had a few searing headaches that made her want to vomit.

  Dealing with the bitch in front of her made it even worse.

  Becky.

  She wanted to punch Becky in the fucking face, and she’d only met the woman a few minutes ago.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, Lance had called the infected Vladdies, so now everyone was all confused again. How no one but her had figured out they were vampires never ceased to amaze her. These people had managed to survive the apocalypse, fortify and power a massive building, yet they thought they were fighting demons.

  It was just stupid.

  “He means the demons.” Cass sighed. “We call them Vladdies. Don’t ask.”

  “Vladdies, hunh?” Fred rubbed his chin. “That’s a weird name.”

  “If by weird, you mean genius and creative, then yes, it is.” Cass finally let go of her nose, opening her eyes again. Becky sneered at her.

  Cass imagined breaking her nose.

  Now that would be genius and creative.

  “One of them spoke to you?” Emily asked Lance.

  “While we were at that cult camp run by Magnus King.” Lance’s features hardened as he looked at the floor. “King tried sacrificing our friend to the Vla… demons. One approached us, and it spoke to me. Said something about humans tasting good, I think.”

  “Bull. Shit.” Becky blew off Lance’s story with a flippant wave of her arm.

  Cass balled her hand into a fist.

  As if he anticipated her reaction, Lance reached over. Patted her knee. He gave a wink and a crooked smile that softened her a bit. The goofy bastard got to her in a way no one else ever had. He knew her, understood how to get through her emotional force field.

  That and his crooked smile still made her melt for a reason she couldn’t articulate.

  Forcing her hand to open, her fingers to relax, she sat back and settled on a scowl for Becky the Bitch. Cass still planned to kick her ass at some point, but figured doing it in the middle of their first meeting with the head of The Light probably wouldn’t help anything.

  “I know it sounds crazy,” Lance said. “But we’ve heard stories about the Vla—damn it—the demons, evolving for a long time. You’ve seen the big spires they’re building
above their nests, right?”

  Fred nodded. “Of course.”

  “Have you seen the horrifying pelts they’re wearing so they can move in the daylight?”

  “The what?” Fred choked on his own spit. He doubled over, coughing.

  Emily Snow narrowed her eyes as she inspected Lance. “Brandon talked about that a little, but he was a bit delirious from the pain medication your doctor friend gave him. Honestly, I figured he wasn’t thinking clearly and brushed it off.”

  “He wasn’t delirious. The demons coming out of the nest closest to Valerie’s camp wore the hides of animals and humans to conceal themselves from the daylight. They chased us in the evening as we were escaping.” Lance shook his head. “If they’re speaking, and using clothing and tools, then we’re in a world of hurt here.”

  “Our defensive lights won’t work anymore,” Fred muttered. “That’s been the best way of keeping them at a distance since we opened this place.”

  “It won’t be for long if that nest decides to press all the way down here,” Cass said.

  “If they’re so freaking smart that they can speak and wear clothes, then why haven’t we seen that behavior here in the city?” Becky asked.

  Lance shrugged. “How the hell should we know? We’ve been on an island for the last two years.”

  Cass shifted her weight, trying to find a position that would be kinder to her back. She’d suffered through a lot of pain since their great escape to The Light, and the agony had only started to abate over the past few hours. Emmett hoped she hadn’t dealt any long-term damage to her back, but he wasn’t certain. He’d complained about not having the proper equipment to test her with. “We think the nests are evolving separately from each other.”

  “What do you mean?” Emily asked.

  “We’d heard that some Vladdies had lost their ability to infect humans, but that definitely isn’t the case for all of them. We’ve also seen some groups use rocks to break lights, but not others. It’s just a guess—but we think the infection doesn’t have the exact same effect on different Vladdies, let alone entire nests.”