Raven's Hell (Savage World, 2)

by Jenika Snow

  He walked over to the window and looked out of it.

  “We need to leave, Rebecca. Now.” He turned from the window and moved back toward the ladder. She was already making her way down it, but it was slow going, as she had to keep adjusting the bags on her shoulders. When she finally reached the last couple of slats, Collin had his hands around her waist and lifted her from the ladder. He held her for a second.

  “Shhh,” he said softly against her ear. The sound of moaning and groaning became even louder, and then there was banging on the windows as the infected made themselves known. When they saw Collin and Rebecca, they made this loud screeching noise and clawed at the building. Collin grabbed her hand, and they made their way quickly out of the warehouse and out through the back way where they had entered.

  Once outside, an infected lunged forward in the slow, sloppy way a starving corpse did, but Rebecca had her knife ready and stabbed it in the side of the neck. It wouldn’t kill it, but it would slow it down. It gurgled out a sound, and dark blood gushed out of the artery as it fell backward and landed on the ground. Collin and Rebecca started running again, still moving from the horrors that swarmed in on them, yet unable to get rid of the sounds of hell filling her ears.

  There was clanging behind them, and once they got into the woods, they didn’t stop. Collin continued to pull her forward, refusing to let go of her hand. She ran as fast as she could, but he had longer legs, and the supplies she carried were weighing her down.

  Glancing behind her, the world shook, and the warehouse grew smaller and smaller the harder she ran. The ground was uneven, and when she faced forward again, her foot caught on something. She fell forward, landed on her knees, and the air left her in a whoosh.

  “Come on, baby. We have to keep moving until we can’t walk any farther,” Collin said and had her lifted off the ground a second later. He cupped both her cheeks with his big hands and leaned down so he could look into her eyes. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “But why?” she gasped out, still trying to catch her breath.

  He shook his head. “Does it matter why? I am here, won’t let anything happen to you, and I want you to trust me.” He continued to stare right in her eyes, and a little bit of moonlight filtered through the treetop. “We might be safe from those infected, but I want us to get as much distance between us and them as possible. We can talk about all this later, but right now, we need to move.” He kissed her hard and fiercely, broke away, and breathed just as rapidly as she did. “You good, baby? Good to walk?”

  She nodded. “I’m good.”

  He nodded in response, kissed her once more, and then they were moving through the forest, fast and hard, not stopping until the warehouse was now a distant memory and she nearly collapsed on the ground from exhaustion.

  11

  Collin finally allowed them to stop once they put a substantial distance between them and the warehouse. It wasn’t as if the fuckers could run—or walk very fast, for that matter—but since there was a horde of them starting to move toward the machine warehouse, Collin didn’t want to take any chances.

  It seemed they were grouping together, congregating, and then having more muscle to take down someone. It was easy enough to kill a few at a time if they were destroyed in the head, but if twenty, hell, even ten swarmed him and all he had was this knife, that could get dangerous.

  He might have been able to take down a shitload of them when he had helped Sparrow escape all those months ago, but he had an extra gun, a small one tucked in the ankle of his boot, that she hadn’t known about. It had saved him them, and if push came to shove, he would use the knife he had and take down every last asshole who came close to Rebecca.

  Rebecca was on the other side of the fire, sleeping. He made a small camp for them a few hours after they ran from the warehouse. Although he had seen the fear in her face, knew she was used to doing things her way, probably slow and safe, he wasn’t going to sugarcoat anything.

  This world was fucked up, and she knew that, and although she left with him without complaint, he had a feeling that on her own, she would’ve waited the infected out at the warehouse, thinking eventually they would have left. She considered that place her “home,” and it was clear she had no intentions of leaving there.

  Collin watched her sleep, knew the sun would be rising soon, and they would need to keep moving, find a safer place to camp, and maybe one to setup shop permanently. But right now, he just wanted to watch her. She was a fighter, a survivor, and when she kissed him in the loft, just rose up and placed her mouth on his, everything stopped.

  He wasn’t the violent man who lived on the streets of New York anymore. He wasn’t fighting until everyone bowed before him. He wasn’t the drug lord, the pimp, or the killer everyone had been afraid of. Right here and now, he was still all those things, but more.

  He was so much more in this world and with this woman. What he wanted now, where his focus and priorities were now, were on this female and protecting her at all costs. Sure, they had just met, and no, he wasn’t in love with her. What he felt was raw, uninhibited possession and territorial need. He saw her, knew she was his, and something inside him clicked. It was like this primal, wild energy at seeing his female.

  Was this how things had been back in the day when men had to fight for a woman, had to show her they were stronger and could protect them with their life?

  She was asleep, and he knew she was exhausted, not only from running, but also because she had barely gotten any rest back at the loft. He had seen the bags under her green eyes, her too pale skin, and he wanted her to be able to get some sleep. But they needed to keep moving, because infected weren’t their only problem.

  He scanned their surroundings, unable to rest until he knew for sure they were safe. There had been some semifresh human tracks that he had seen when they stopped, and knowing that someone could be lurking out there, waiting for Collin to put his guard down, had him doing the opposite.

  He held his knife and moved his thumb back and forth over the blade as he looked at their surroundings. But even though he had seen the tracks, he didn’t feel anyone near. Collin had always relied on his instincts. They had been a must when he was working the underground, and they were still what kept him alive.

  There was a crack of a twig in the distance, and Collin stood, his knife in hand, and his entire body poised and ready to attack. He backed away from where the sound had come from, closer to Rebecca, and then stopped. He listened, his heart beating slowly and steadily, his eyes alert.

  He sensed the moment Rebecca woke, because she held her breath, obviously sensing there was danger close by. Fortunately, she didn’t make a sound or move. She was smart, but then again, she wouldn’t have lasted this long if she wasn’t.

  More sounds of twigs breaking became closer. He placed a hand on the other knife he had strapped to his waist and strained to hear, making sure the sound wasn’t echoing off the trees. And then he spotted the infected moving out of the forest and toward them. Its steps were slow, languished even. The male was hungry, softly groaning and raising its hands toward them.

  “Rebecca, stand up and gather your things.” The moonlight cut through the trees and bathed the corpse in a bluish tint.

  “Oh, God,” Rebecca whispered roughly, now standing right beside him with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. “Collin, he’s just a little boy.”

  Yeah, he was, probably not much older than eleven or twelve, but he was badly decomposed, no longer the child she was envisioning in her mind or what he had once been. Right now, he was a walking corpse, hungry for human flesh. Their flesh.

  The infected lifted its head and parted its lips in a silent cry. Blood oozed out of his mouth, nose, and eyes. It was old blood, congealed and dead, just like he was. These creatures were no longer living but rotting from the inside out. Its flesh was black in some areas, necrotic and starting to spread across his gaunt cheeks and sunken, cloudy-white eyes.
/>
  The little boy—or corpse, as Collin thought of him now—wore a pair of stained and torn striped pajamas. The pocket in the corner was torn clean off, and a festering bullet wound could be seen.

  “Grab your things, because we have to leave.” He planned on waking her soon anyway, but it looked like sleep would have to wait.

  The young boy made another low, wet gurgled sound and moved closer. Rebecca had all her things packed now, stood beside Collin, and whispered softly, “Collin, let’s just leave. He’s a little boy.”

  He looked at her, at her soft face that was so innocent even though this world could eat her alive. She lasted this long, although clearly she hadn’t dealt with a child who was infected. “He isn’t a child anymore, Rebecca. He isn’t even alive. He’ll attack us without even thinking twice, and then we will be like him.” He smoothed his finger over her cheek and then looked back at the male. It was staring at the fire, clearly transfixed at the bright flames for a second. Sometimes, they could be taken off guard by something small, and this was one of those times. “Leaving him alive to continue to wander aimlessly around and potentially infect more people would make me a vile man, Rebecca,” he said without looking at her. “I’m not a good man by any means, but I sure as fuck can’t let this once little boy continue to be the way he is. It’s not right. Don’t you think he deserves peace?” he asked softly and glanced at her once more.

  She shook her head. “No, but God, all I can see is the little boy he used to be.”

  “I know, baby. Maybe you should look away.”

  She shook her head, not saying anything about the fact that he kept calling her baby. Collin walked around the fire, and then the boy came forward, following his movements. He made more strangled sounds, and then Collin took him out swiftly. He wasn’t into making them suffer, because he just wanted them dead.

  Whoever this little boy used to be didn’t deserve to have to wander this world, feeding on flesh, dead and rotting more each day. It was a sad world, and the thought of children being infected made it worse.

  12

  The sun started to rise over the tops of the blue spruce trees, and Rebecca shielded her eyes from the glare. They had been walking for what seemed like forever.

  She was tired, her feet were sore, and her body wanted nothing more than to lie down and just sleep the rest of the days away. But they couldn’t stop, not until they were in a safe place.

  After the assholes at the grocery store, and the infected all around them, sleeping out in the open again didn’t sound like the best option for them. And she could see the wear and exhaustion on Collin’s face too, but he never stopped, never gave up his composure or alertness.

  The sound of the leaves crunching under their feet seemed overly loud, or maybe she was so exhausted that what she heard was just the thundering of her own heart. They had been walking for miles, farther and farther up the mountain until the air thinned and a crisp wind blew through the trees.

  Her whole body burned, and all the adrenaline, endorphins, and energy that kept her going thus far had since dwindled away to nothing. But she kept her mouth shut, knew Collin was just as tired, and told herself that when they got wherever they were headed, this would have all been worth it.

  The trees had broken way to show a small backwater, secluded village. They both stopped. Everything looked like it had been taken right out of a western movie where the towns were small, intimate even.

  A schoolhouse was in the distance, a small diner of some sort, a few cabins, and even a doctor’s office on one side of the school. There were a few corpses moving around, but they were slow, clearly hungry, and they’d be easy enough to take down.

  Rebecca already had her knife out, pressed to the side of her thigh, and stood on the other side of Collin. He had his weapon in hand, and when she looked at him, she could see his gaze moving back and forth, taking in everything.

  “We can go around and avoid them, but there might be something we can use in the buildings,” he said softly and then looked over at her.

  “Where exactly are we going?” Rebecca asked just as softly.

  “I don’t know, but I think the higher we go, the safer we will be. The chances of the sick wandering so far up into the mountains are slimmer, and I think a lot of the healthy ones still surviving will stay close to the towns.” He glanced at the small village again, if it could even be called a village. It seemed more like a community than anything else. “And this isn’t it.” He stared at the infected again, and then he crouched low, trying to maybe see another way around them.

  It was easier to avoid them altogether. But the three infected were roaming in a circle, groaning and unaware of their presence. He was right though. They needed to at least see if there were any supplies in the buildings.

  “What the hell is this place, though?” Rebecca asked and kept her focus on the infected. One of them turned toward them, groaned, and then that had the others turning and doing the same. They moved toward her and Collin, their flesh peeling, black congealed blood seeping out of their skin, and gouges missing from their bodies and faces taking up her entire view.

  She didn’t think, just reacted. Moving forward, her knife raised high, she attacked the first corpse. The older man had receding lips and scabs littering his face. He was missing his left eye, and in its places was a pus-filled socket. Pushing back her gag reflex, she stabbed him right in that socket, drilling her knife through his skull and hearing the sickening wet, bone-crunching sound.

  She looked over at where Collin was and watched as he finished off the infected. The bodies littered the ground, and then he was looking at her with anger and moving toward her.

  “What the fuck, Rebecca?” he scolded in a very angry tone and looked down at where her knife was in her hand, blood dripping from the tip. “You cannot just run out there and start going Warrior Princess on their asses. You need to wait, and together we can do this shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and breathed out, clearly looking frustrated.

  “What?” she asked just as outraged. “I’ve survived without you in my life and won’t just sit back while the big muscle man takes care of business.” They glared at each other for several moments, and then the sound of clicking had them both tensing.

  Collin pulled her behind his body, and she listened hard, trying to see where the noise was coming from. The clicking started again, but it wasn’t as if someone were cocking a gun. It was a lighter, less threatening noise. It was strange, and one that she had heard before but couldn’t place now.

  Then the sound stopped, and they waited several moments, trying to see if it was a threat or maybe a small animal going through debris. But when she saw a dark figure move across the window of the schoolhouse, everything inside her went on alert. She tugged on his sleeve, about to tell him what she had seen, but then he started speaking.

  “I saw,” Collin said in a low voice. “You wait here.”

  “No,” she snapped before he even finished speaking. He stared at her with a scowl and then sighed. They moved forward, keeping to the side of the buildings, and when they reached the front door to the school, they stilled. He looked at her, pointed to her knife, telling her without words to keep it at the ready, and she nodded. He pushed open the door with his boot since it was already cracked ajar, and when no one attacked him and infected didn’t come out groaning and moaning, they stepped inside.

  The interior was small, with a main room that looked like something out of a nineteenth century schoolhouse atop a hill. There were benches for the children’s seats, a chalkboard that still had writing on it, and dirt and debris all over the floor.

  The two windows in the building were busted open, and the glass was shattered to pieces on the ground and some of the benches. It didn’t look like anyone was in the room, but she had seen someone walk by the window.

  She knew she had, and Collin had seen it too. And then there was the clicking again. They turned, faced the darkened corner, and waited for
whoever was standing there to make themselves known.

  But the man who stepped into view didn’t seem like a threat. In fact, he looked almost frail, even though he had this crazed, cockeyed look going on. He was filthy, with salt-and-pepper-colored long hair in thick dreads, and a scraggly beard. He also held a small light-blue camera, one of the old-school ones that took 35mm film and looked like it may have belonged to a twelve-year-old girl for her sleepovers.

  He lifted the camera, and they tensed. He clicked it over and over again, and then started laughing in this crazed way that had the hairs on her arms standing on end.

  “Welcome to paradise, children.” And then he lunged forward, grabbed Rebecca by the hair, and pulled her forward. She cried out from the sudden pain and tried to take his hands from her hair. But Collin was there, prying the asshole off.

  The old man cackled in a seriously eerie way, and then she heard Collin grunt in pain. Rebecca took action, sliced out with her knife, heard the old man howl, and then he pushed away from them, stumbling back and slamming into the wall.

  Collin pulled her close, and she saw a trail of blood move down his arm.

  The old man lifted the camera again, clicked it over and over, and then darted out the front door. She moved to the broken window, watched as he disappeared behind the trees, and finally sagged her shoulders. She turned and faced Collin, saw him looking at the wound in his arm, and felt her heart beat even faster.

  He didn’t need this right now.

  Neither of them did.

  13

  “Come here. Let’s get that cleaned up.” She moved over to the farthest corner from where that psycho was, set her bag down, and gestured for him to come closer. He moved toward her, looking like he hadn’t just gotten stabbed with God knew what.

  When he was seated beside her, and she had his jacket off and his shirt pushed up, she looked at the six-inch slice in his bicep. He reached out, grabbed her head, and pulled her close to kiss her gently.