The Hunger (Book 5): Decayed

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The Hunger (Book 5): Decayed Page 6

by Brant, Jason


  Lance peered into the crater in disbelief. He dug his fingers into his ears, as if trying to clear a blockage. Blood continued to drip from his nose onto his shirt and shoes.

  A large chunk of wall on a building to their right broke free and fell to the ground, breaking apart on the sidewalk.

  Lance took a few staggering steps back as another cloud of dust flew into his legs. His gait resembled that of a newborn fawn’s. Each step threatened to buckle his knees, spill him to the pavement.

  Greg stared at the rubble that had fallen from the building, amazed he’d barely heard it collapse to the sidewalk. He wondered if the explosion had ruptured his eardrums. When he wiped at his ears, no blood covered his fingers, though he didn’t know if that meant anything.

  Neither heard the footsteps approaching from behind them.

  9

  “Yo, kid.” Paul—or as he liked Brandon to call him, The Wildman—snapped his fingers in front of Brandon’s face. “I need you to focus here.”

  “But there was a huge explosion out there.” Brandon stared out the window at the rising cloud of smoke, ash, and dust a few blocks away. The massive plume stretched several hundred feet along the streets. “What’s happening?”

  “Yinz are under attack, that’s what’s happening.”

  Brandon finally peeled his attention away from the destruction, turning to Paul. Or The Wildman. Whatever. “How can you expect me to walk you through this technical crap if we’re under attack?”

  The Wildman frowned. “Use your damn brain. If you wanted to take this place out, what’s the first thing you would do?”

  “Uhh.” Brandon scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know. Take out our power maybe? That would make it a lot easier for the demons to get in here.”

  “Exactly. And didn’t you just tell me that the guy who built all the battery backups and installed the solar panels on the roof is dead?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And didn’t you also say no one around here is good with this stuff?”

  “Yeah.” Brandon looked at his feet. “But some guys think they can maintain our system. Probably.”

  “And didn’t I tell you I’m handy with electrical gear n’at?”

  “I guess.”

  “So if they take out our power before nightfall, and we’re hoping that some guys think they can fix it, shouldn’t I have an idea of what we’re dealing with? You know, in case some guys don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground?”

  Brandon grew tired of the brow beating. He understood The Wildman’s point, but he still thought their attention should stay on the city detonating around them. He thought he should help on the ground floor of The Light, not walking this weirdo through their solar-panel setup.

  The guy talked funny, too.

  It was annoying.

  “Fine. What do you want to see?” Brandon reached up to scratch an itch in his chest, but caught himself. The wounds from the demon were stitched up, courtesy of the doctor guy who came with Lance and Eifort, but they itched like hell. And he was under explicit directions not to mess with them.

  The drugs the doctor had given him had helped a lot with the pain, but they didn’t do a damn thing for the itching. Even with the painkillers, he wasn’t moving around all that great. Each step he took caused discomfort.

  “I want you to explain to me how this works. How many times I gotta say it?” The Wildman pulled Brandon away from the window. “We’ll go down and see what we can do when we’re done up here. Trust me. Working on this is the best thing we can do right now.”

  “Okay, okay. Where was I?”

  “You were yammerin’ about hydroelectricity powering this place.”

  “Oh, right. So I think, think, the same dam that supplies our electricity is also hooked up to Valerie’s place. I don’t know if she’s aware of that or not.”

  The Wildman said, “That means they won’t destroy their power source to take us out, but they might go after the line running from the dam to here. If they can find it.”

  “Sure. If you say so.”

  “What else?”

  Brandon gestured to a massive array of towers lining the walls on their left. They were on one of the higher floors that Eddie, Emily’s late husband, had designated for their power needs. The towers were repurposed racks for computer servers, modified to fit their power requirements.

  “Those are the battery backups. I have no freaking clue how they’re set up, so don’t ask. All I know is they’re kept charged up in case the power goes out in the night. They’re supposed to automatically switch on, but that hasn’t happened since I’ve been here. At least, not that I know of.”

  “That’s a lot of batteries.”

  “They scrounged through the city trying to find them. I didn’t help with that part. Or with setting them up. You should have asked someone else about this stuff, Paul.”

  “I don’t trust your people yet. So I’m asking you.”

  “Why do you trust me?”

  “Because you helped save my bacon.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I told you to call me The Wildman.”

  “Whatever. That’s so weird.”

  “Now what about the solar panels on the roof?”

  Brandon sighed. “You want me to walk you up there, too?”

  “You got a hot date or something? Goddamn kids are always trying to get outta the smallest amount of work.”

  “Actually…”

  “Just show me the damn panels.”

  They walked several flights of stairs to the roof. Though the reasoning for the trip annoyed Brandon, he relished the activity after staying in bed so much lately. His days were usually filled with scavenging, which he often made a game out of. He loved attempting to run up walls to grab hold of second-story windowsills or climbing up rainspouts.

  Moving his body made him happy.

  Sitting in bed did not.

  The pain in his chest throbbed with each step, but it was much more manageable than it had been even a day ago. Even still, the doctor had warned him not to overexert himself for a while or he’d tear his stitches out.

  And there were a lot of stitches.

  His chest resembled something put together by Victor Frankenstein.

  He’d have some hellacious scars when everything finally healed.

  Fortunately for him, Charlie didn’t seem to mind the bandages wrapped around his torso. He’d even given her a glimpse of his grotesque wounds, which hadn’t sent her packing. Ever since they’d gotten back to The Light, she’d spent almost every single minute in his room with him. To say those moments had been the highlights of his life would be an understatement.

  “Earth to Brandon,” The Wildman said.

  “What?”

  “You really spaced out there. Were you thinking about that sweet little girly you got waiting for you?”

  “What? I—no.”

  The Wildman held his hands up. “I’m not judging. I remember my first time, too. Couldn’t think straight for a few days after that.”

  Brandon’s face flushed, his cheeks burning. His mom always said he resembled a tomato when he was embarrassed. He didn’t want to talk to anyone but Charlie about their… special time, let alone some weirdo guy with a stupid nickname and a super-weirdo accent.

  Gross.

  “Just be careful, kid. Women’ll use that magical power between their legs to manipulate you into—”

  “Stop. Please. For the love of God, stop.”

  “That’s sound advice, kid.” The Wildman shrugged. “Save you from a couple of divorces and a few grand a month in alimony.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The Wildman grinned, somehow satisfied with the exchange. “Just sayin’.”

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Brandon pushed a heavy metal door open. They stepped onto the roof, a cold wind ruffling their hair, forcing them to fold their arms to stay warm. The breeze blowing off the bay was often chi
lly, but it was downright frigid as they walked outside.

  Fall was blowing away, ushering in an early winter.

  Rows of solar panels lined the flat roof, all angled in the same direction, tipping toward the cloudy sky. Cabling snaked across the surface, running to a conduit. Large spotlights were bolted atop a concrete barrier that wrapped the entire way around the roof. They aimed downward, along the sides of the building.

  A few plastic bins were set along the barrier at different points. Brandon knew those were loaded with guns and plenty of ammunition in case a horde of demons decided to attack The Light.

  “There they are.” Brandon gestured toward the widest, longest section of panels. “Happy?”

  “Not yet.” The Wildman approached them. “So these are pulling juice all day, supplying the building, even though they aren’t needed?”

  “I guess. I’ve heard they were installed just in case the hydro stuff failed. These would charge the batteries during the day so we could have lights at night for the demons.”

  “Makes sense. They pull in enough power to make it through the night?”

  Brandon shrugged. “No clue. Like I said—I don’t know much about it. I do know I spent a few weeks searching around the city for LED everything. Bulbs, lamps, spotlights, the works. Apparently, they use less power or something?”

  “Yup. So they had yinz gettin’ the most energy-efficient stuff in case ya had to rely on backup power. Smart n’at.”

  “Eddie was a smart cookie.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He got sick one day. It didn’t take long for him to die after that.” Brandon hadn’t really known the boss man, but he’d realized the gravity of the situation when he’d died. Everyone had worried about who would run the place after he’d passed, but a few older dudes were concerned about who would maintain the equipment.

  Emily’s husband had designed almost everything about The Light, from the power system and the defenses, to the way they structured their living quarters. He was an intelligent man who didn’t really have a successor in place in case he died.

  Nothing major had happened to any of their primary systems yet, so they’d gotten by just fine.

  Of course, they’d never been shot at or had a bomb go off a few blocks away before a few minutes ago either.

  The Wildman prowled around, taking in the lights and panels, the bins of guns and the views from all sides. He traced the cabling, nodding and mumbling as he went. “Pretty solid work.”

  “Do you know how it all works?”

  “Not a fuckin’ clue. But I’ll backtrack the wiring, figure out what equipment runs what. I should be able to get a handle on it. Hopefully.” The Wildman headed to the door. “What happens if the power goes out and the Vladdies get in?”

  Brandon smirked at the stupid name his new friends called the demons. “We all have portable LED lanterns and flashlights if all the power goes out. And guns. We have lots and lots of guns.”

  “As good a plan as any, I guess. Though I still think setting this up in the middle of a city was stupid as hell.”

  “I think Eddie and Emily were in a hurry. I wasn’t a part of all that stuff, so you’d have to ask the boss lady.” Brandon moved over to the edge of the roof, peered over the barrier.

  The smoke from the blast had risen much higher now. It careened to the east, blowing over several blocks due to the wind. The area around the site of the explosion hadn’t cleared much, not allowing for much of a view. It looked as if a large part of a building had disappeared, but he couldn’t be sure.

  He hoped no one had been down there when the blast happened.

  There wouldn’t be much left.

  “Anything else?” Brandon asked. “I want to see if anyone needs help.”

  “I think that’s good enough for now.” The Wildman followed him to the door. “Don’t go wandering off in case I need some more answers.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Brandon led them down two flights of stairs. They exited the stairwell, crossed an empty floor with the remnants of some cardboard boxes and disassembled cubicles. They hadn’t needed most of the higher floors yet, but Brandon figured they would soon enough.

  They stopped at the elevator, waiting for what seemed an eternity for the stupid thing to arrive. The silence between them grew more awkward by the second. Especially when The Wildman gave him a wink and a mischievous grin.

  Brandon wanted to help downstairs, but he also needed to get away from the guy who gave himself a nickname and doled out advice about the birds and the bees.

  Giving yourself a nickname was so freaking lame.

  The Wildman stayed mercifully quiet on the ride down, his mind focused on who knew what.

  Brandon thought about Charlie.

  He hoped she’d spend the night with him again, even with everything that happened so far that morning. Spending every possible moment with her was his top priority. His excursion to the northern camps to find her, and the crazy slashes he’d suffered during it, had forced him to face his mortality. Adults always said teenagers didn’t understand how dangerous the world really was.

  But he sure understood that now.

  From here on out, he wanted to be a better friend, a better citizen of The Light. What he really wanted, though, was to be a great boyfriend to Charlie. He was crazy about the girl, and he wanted to treat her like a princess.

  And yeah, sure, he wanted to have a ton of sex, too.

  Like, all the time.

  The Wildman was weird, but he was right about one thing—Brandon had a hard time thinking straight when Charlie was around.

  The elevator doors opened with a soft ping.

  Pandemonium erupted around them.

  10

  The window beside Cass quaked in its frame from the explosion. Vibrations traveled up her legs as the building shook. Cass was talking to Eifort, facing the other direction, when the blast rocked the city.

  Spinning around, ignoring the pang in her back, she witnessed a rising cloud of smoke and dust a few blocks away.

  The explosion had happened just beyond the last place she’d seen Lance.

  “Oh, no,” Megan whispered.

  “Stay here!” Cass started for the elevator.

  “I’ll come with you,” Megan called from behind her. “We can—”

  “Protect the kids.” Cass didn’t slow down. “Keep them safe until we get back. Don’t let Lilith near the windows.”

  Megan hesitated a moment, while Cass lumbered across the office space. Cass didn’t wait for her to speak her mind again as she weaved through adapted cubicles, past empty cots. The few people who’d been on the floor had left when the shooting started.

  When she got to the elevator, she jammed the down button. The digital indicator beside the doors read L for lobby. It didn’t change for nearly half a minute while she waited.

  Cass fought the panic that threatened to consume as she stared at that damned L. Her stupid husband just had to run out there without her, throwing himself into harm’s way. Again. It didn’t matter how many times he got into trouble, the dumbass just had to dive headfirst into the deep end of the pool if he thought someone might be drowning. It never seemed to occur to him that he should check the depth before leaping. Sooner or later, he might brain himself.

  “Goddamn it!” Cass kicked the elevator doors.

  The indicator changed, showing the elevator had finally risen to the first floor. And stopped again.

  “Piece of shit.” Cass turned, running for the stairs as fast as her body would allow. She shambled more than sprinted.

  Each step sent red-hot needles through her spine, down her leg. A numbness settled in her foot as she burst through the door to the staircase, hobbled down the steps.

  When her knee buckled as she made it down to the midway point of the next floor, Cass caught the railing, managing to keep herself from tumbling head over feet. She hopped down the last few stairs to the next landing.

  Paused to
catch her breath.

  The harder she pushed her body, the more it failed her.

  A few more days of rest would have done her wonders.

  Cass carefully climbed onto the next railing, readying herself to slide down like a kid on her parent’s bannister. She controlled her descent with her hands, managing to keep herself from going out of control. By the time she made it to the first floor, the seat of her pants had grown hot. Grime coated her hands.

  When she pushed into the lobby, Cass was taken aback by the mass of people inside. A group of men carried plates of glass to replace the broken windows a few stories up. Others stood by the metal-reinforced windows, peering through slats to the outside.

  Almost everyone was armed.

  Guards protected the front doors, scanning the area in front of the building.

  Without saying a word to anyone, Cass started across the lobby, heading for the doors. As she passed a guy barking orders at a group carrying a plate-glass window, she grabbed the semi-automatic rifle slung over his shoulder.

  The man tried to catch the gun as it slipped from his grasp, but only grabbed handfuls of air. “Hey! What are you doing?”

  “I need this.” She staggered past him without a backward glance. “Find another.”

  He continued hollering after her, but she ignored him as she willed herself to move faster. Two guards stood on either side of the entrance, aiming their rifles outside. One peered at her as she approached, his eyes narrowing. He couldn’t have been more than twenty.

  “You don’t wanna go out there, lady.” He nodded toward the area in front of the doors. “All hell is breaking loose.”

  Cass asked, “Have you seen anyone move out there since the explosion?”

  “Nah.” He hawked a wad of spit to the sidewalk in front of the doors. “But I can’t see a damn thing with all this dust and smoke. Nasty stuff is coating my mouth, too.”

  “Well, try not to shoot me when I come back.” Cass headed outside. “I’ll have a few people with me, so don’t get trigger happy.”

  He continued pleading with her to stay inside, but she didn’t respond as she plunged into the expanding cloud of dust. Her visibility died as she headed for the site of the explosion. The gray enveloping the city reminded her of the video she’d seen of the aftermath of the World Trade Center collapsing.

 

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