The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation

by Demers, J. D.

  “Come on Boomer.” I got up and climbed through, following the rest into the rain.

  By the time I steadied myself on the slow moving truck, the situation had already gotten tense.

  “What the hell is this about, Master Sergeant?” Dobson said angrily.

  “He’s crazy,” the woman said. I had a feeling she didn’t know when to shut up.

  “Enough!” Fish barked. To my surprise, he raised the pistol at Dobson. “Hand over the .45, Major.”

  Dobson glance behind him and he saw Gardner slowly start to raise his M4. Gardner was a good soldier, but he looked confused at what was transpiring. In the end, though, he would follow Fish’s lead without question.

  Dobson smirked. “All this way, just to be threatened by our own people.” He held the .45 out and Chad snatched it out of his hands.

  The four people we had rescued now stood huddled in the middle of Big Red. Chad, Enrique, and Gardner were on one side of them, and Fish, me and Boomer on the other. The rain had lightened up, but even at the slow speed DJ was driving, it had a little sting to it as it whipped across my skin.

  “Lay him down and step back,” Fish ordered.

  The woman growled, “I told you—”

  “Major, tell this woman to shut her trap,” Fish growled.

  “Doctor Tripp…” Dobson started to say evenly.

  “Who is he to tell me anything, you Neanderthal?” she asked Fish.

  “Gardner!” Fish said, and without a word, Gardner flicked his selector switch from safe to semi-automatic. He didn’t aim the rifle at any of them, but he did take a step forward and got in a readied stance.

  I started to tense up. This was getting out of control. I knew Fish. He would have already killed the sickly man if he was sure the guy was infected. If this woman would just be quiet…

  “Oh, so you have good little soldiers? I’ve almost died a hundred times in the past two months. Think that kid scares me?” she gestured to Gardner. She took a step forward. “I don’t care who you—”

  “Julia, please!” the man in glasses said, glaring at the woman. He was still holding Pitman. The man turned and started to lay sickly man onto the deck of Big Red.

  She seemed about to interject when Fish spoke.

  “Look, I really… really hate explaining myself,” he scowled, “but we have almost eighty people in our charge, many of them children. If I thought this man was infected for sure, I would have put him down before we ever got on to the truck. As it is, I’m not bringing him into our compound until he checks him out,” Fish gestured his thumb toward me.

  “Me?” I whispered to him.

  He spoke to me out of the corner of his mouth, “Not you, dumbass, your dog. He detected Judy changing, right?”

  Judy, the survivor Fish and I found in a house we were scavenging, was infected. It took her hours to change. About halfway into her change, Boomer had become apprehensive, and refused to be near her.

  “I—I guess,” I stammered.

  “Then get to it,” Fish ordered, “with your permission, of course,” he said sarcastically to the woman.

  She frowned but didn’t say anything.

  “Come on, Boomer,” I said to the canine.

  He and I wobbled up to Pitman. DJ wasn’t driving the firetruck too fast, but it was still difficult to balance ourselves as we moved.

  I knelt down next to Pitman. He wasn’t coherent. The rain was soaking him and probably making his illness worse.

  I grabbed Boomer’s collar and brought him over to Pitman. Boomer sniffed around the man’s head. He didn’t have a reaction. The canine then bent down and licked Pitman’s face, clearing some rain water from his dark skin.

  “Get… that thing… away from me,” Pitman choked, in a barely audible, yet very deep voice.

  I smiled and pulled Boomer back.

  “He’s okay,” I said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  Dobson’s shoulders slumped in relief.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad,” Fish said, smiling.

  “You—” the woman said harshly, but Fish cut her off before she could continue.

  “Can it, woman!” Fish said as he grabbed his ear piece. Jenna’s voice came over the radio.

  “DJ, Fish,” she said solemnly. “We’re parked near Dairy Road. Meet us here ASAP.”

  “What’s up?” DJ asked.

  After a brief pause, she replied. “Gonzales is hurt.”

  “DJ?” Fish said into the radio.

  “Going now. We’re only a couple minutes away,” the big man replied.

  Fish pulled out a pair of handcuffs and handed them to me.

  “Alright, Christian, cuff him… just in case,” he added, staring at the woman who seemed like she was about to protest again. “Bring him and Miss Lippy over there. The rest of you ride back here. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  The man in glasses seemed about to protest, but Dobson grabbed his arm to silence him.

  “Can I at least get a weapon, Master Sergeant?” the Major asked in an icy tone.

  Fish eyed the Major a moment, as if he passed him a silent message of warning. Dobson remained stoic.

  “Give him the .45 back,” he told Chad. Chad was about to object, but a glare from Fish made him comply.

  “You all pendajos,” Enrique muttered and went to sit at the back of the truck.

  I helped Pitman get up and started to cuff him.

  “What… what the hell…” he grumbled. Normally, I was pretty sure Pitman could pick me up and rip me in half without breaking a sweat. But the man was very weak, barely able to stand, and that was with help.

  “Sorry, man, orders.” I whispered as I put the cuffs on him. His shoulders were so broad that I was forced to cuff him from the front. I noticed his other tag read Air Force, and though I didn’t know the Air Force rank structure that well, the man had a multitude of stripes on his sleeve telling me he was a higher ranked non-commissioned officer.

  He just grunted as I led him back into Big Red’s cab. Boomer followed us in and the woman shut the hatch behind me.

  “Coming up behind you,” Cecil’s voice blared over the radio.

  “Now he shows up,” Fish muttered.

  We were driving west on Route 192. The road went all the way to Camp Holly, but that was miles away. We still had to traverse through miles of Melbourne with the road packed with cars and debris.

  I saw the intersection of Dairy Road fast approaching. Zombies were few in number. The rain probably had them taking refuge undercover, though I was sure Big Red’s engine was going to bring them out of their hiding spots.

  Just past the intersection was the construction site we had seen earlier, minus one dump truck. Jenna’s truck was parked near a stack of cinder blocks. She was standing in the bed of the truck, guarding against a few zombies that were approaching her location. She was using her suppressed pistol.

  Daniel was kneeling over Gonzales. He was working feverishly, grabbing bandages and other equipment out of his medical bag. Two zombies that were approaching the truck fell just as we pulled up a few dozen feet away from them. Jenna was reloading.

  “Gardner, you’re on over-watch,” Fish barked into the radio as he prepared to disembark. “Everyone else, fan out and secure the perimeter.”

  The new comers temporarily stayed put, while the rest of us exited Big Red and Vader.

  I disobeyed Fish and followed him over to Daniel and Gonzales. Cecil was walking up to meet us.

  “I said fan out,” Fish told him as we passed. Cecil was silent a moment, and then nodded. Fish, Boomer and I continued to march to where Daniel was performing first aid. DJ was there and Jenna had hopped out of the back of her truck.

  “Ahh!” Gonzales shrieked as we approached.

  Daniel moved to the side and I almost gagged at what I saw.

  Gonzales’s arm was mangled. The makeshift armor he was wearing had been ripped away from his left side. Worse, his bicep muscle on his left arm had been torn out
from the shoulder. Half of it was missing as it dangled from the elbow. Bite marks were scattered around and chunks of his triceps were missing.

  DJ gasped and Boomer let out a hair raising growl.

  Gonzales opened his eyes. The purplish tracers were slowly starting to spread across the whites of his eyes.

  “How the hell is this happening so fast,” Daniel all but cried. “I’ve never see it happen this quickly before!”

  “It depends on how much of the mutated strain the victim gets into their bloodstream during the attack,” the woman said from behind me. Her tone was even, almost heartless.

  The woman and Major Dobson were walking up to us. Dobson was limping, favoring his good ankle.

  “Mutated what?” DJ asked, but Fish interjected.

  “Everyone, clear out!” he barked, and took a knee next to Daniel, who was sobbing.

  Fish put his hand on the medic’s shoulder. “Go on, son,” he said softly.

  Daniel wiped his eyes and stood. Jenna was sobbing and Daniel put his arm around her. The medic grabbed his bag and the two of them entered the rear passenger door of Jenna’s truck.

  Fish tilted his head and said without looking back, “Go!”

  DJ nodded and pushed Dobson and the woman, shuffling them back to Big Red. I noticed Dobson had drawn Fish’s .45, but now held it limply.

  I didn’t leave, though Boomer took a few steps back, his hair on his neck still standing on end.

  Fish looked at me from the corner of his eye, and I thought he was going to reprimand me.

  “Sarge!” Gonzales wheezed, grabbing Fish’s attention. “You gotta… gotta do it.”

  Fish looked down at Gonzales.

  I stepped closer, and moved around so Gonzales was in between Fish and me.

  His face was ashen grey. Purplish veins were protruding from the collar of his shirt, raking up his neck like cracks in a windshield. I kept my line of sight from focusing on his horrific wound.

  “You did good, soldier,” Fish said evenly.

  “Yeah…” Gonzales coughed. “Look… look at all the… good… it did.” A slight smirk started to form on his face.

  His eyes shifted from Fish to me, and then back to Fish. He squinted his eyes tightly as a wave of pain made his back arch, but he didn’t make a noise.

  “You take… take care of… Rach,” he rasped, after the episode had ended.

  “We will,” I assured him.

  His eyes, almost completely mutated now, stared coldly at Fish.

  “Don’t… don’t let me… come back,” he told Fish.

  Fish, his jaw tighter than I thought possible, slightly nodded. He then raised his hand toward me. I knew what he wanted. His .45 was with Dobson, and I had the means on my side to put an end to Gonzales’s misery.

  Without thought, I removed my pistol, and handed it to Fish. I never saw him place the barrel under Gonzales’s neck. I just remember reacting when the shot went off. The oil filter on the end kept the blast suppressed, but the slight noise along with its meaning made me jump.

  Fish stood and handed me my pistol.

  “Breaker,” he stated. It took me a moment to comprehend what he was saying. I turned and grabbed a sledgehammer from the back of Jenna’s truck.

  After I handed it to him, Fish looked up at me. His eyes were cold, but I saw through them and could feel his sorrow.

  “Drive Jenna and Daniel,” he ordered me, and then keyed his mic. “Everyone mount up. No stopping until we are back at the Camp.”

  I nodded and jumped in the driver’s seat of Jenna’s truck. The two of them were sitting in the back. Her face was embedded in his shoulder.

  I remember wondering why I wasn’t crying. We had just lost someone. We had gone over a month without so much as a broken bone, yet now we lost someone who was an integral part of our community. Not only that, but we lost him because he put his life in danger to save all of ours. He deserved tears. Lots of tears. Lots of anger. But I felt nothing. I still don’t know why.

  I do know this, though. If not for Gonzales, I wouldn’t be here. He was a true hero, and like many others to follow, humanity owes him gratitude.

  Boomer jumped over my lap and into the passenger seat of Jenna’s truck. I peered out the side window and saw Fish staring at the ground. I couldn’t see Gonzales’s body from where I was, but I knew Fish was looking at it. He let out a deep breath, and then violently swung the hammer down. The sound of crushing bone and flesh was deadened by the metal head of the hammer striking the pavement below.

  Fish threw the sledge back into the bed of Jenna’s truck and then jogged back to Big Red.

  “I—I couldn’t have done it,” Daniel stammered as I started Jenna’s truck.

  I pulled the vehicle forward and onto the road. “That’s why he did it,” I said solemnly. “He will carry the burden that none of us want to.”

  I had a feeling some in the camp might hate Fish for what he did. They wouldn’t blame him, of course, but the feeling of hate cannot be helped. But I was sure all the hatred others felt was nothing compared to the disgust he felt for himself.

  Chapter 16

  The Monostrovis Virus

  June 23rd Evening

  The trip back to camp was mostly silent. Fish had called Campbell and requested he go to a private frequency. It was a channel only he, DJ, and Campbell knew of. I knew it too, but no one was aware of that. I didn’t switch channels, though. I knew mostly what they were going to discuss, and I didn’t want to hear the story of Gonzales repeated.

  The adrenaline had all but run out of my system by the time we pulled up to Camp Holly. I was feeling tired and weak. My stomach hurt as thoughts of Rachel raced through my mind. The poor girl probably already knew that Gonzales had fallen. Campbell would have told her.

  The gates to Camp Holly opened and the rescue trucks pulled in. About twenty people met us. Most had bottles of water, while others carried their firearms at the ready. Those people checked everyone for bite marks.

  Rich was there with two assistants and a stretcher. Pitman was placed on the gurney and they hustled him off to a small building near the main hall. That was where our infirmary was located.

  After we were checked over, Campbell gathered everyone from the rescue party together, including Major Dobson and the other two we had rescued.

  The Captain cleared his throat. “Everybody get cleaned up. Gardner, take these two with you,” he said, motioning to the man in glasses and the woman. “Major, you’re with me. Command meeting in the main hall at 17:30. We’ll eat there.”

  Everyone acknowledged and Campbell called for Dobson to follow him. The two walked off toward the Captain’s camper.

  As we dispersed, I saw Daniel and Jenna walk toward Jenna’s sleeping quarters. I felt a little jealous. I wanted to comfort her. But I think Daniel needed comforting, too. For some reason, though, I didn’t. I started to get angry at myself for not feeling the grief everyone else seemed to be feeling. Was I becoming the monster I swore I wouldn’t become?

  Fish, Boomer, and I made our way to our shack. Fish was silent the whole way. Eyes stared at us as we marched, but no one said anything. I wondered if they knew Fish had put down Gonzales. Fish was largely considered a heartless, cold bastard among the residents. They probably thought even worse of him now. If he noticed, he didn’t react.

  I rushed ahead of Fish and opened the door to our quarters. Boomer hurried in and Fish followed. I shut the door behind me and sighed as I leaned up against the wood.

  “Don’t dilly dally around, kid,” Fish said as he began to unload his gear. “We have an hour before the meeting, and you smell like a Zulu.”

  “Right,” I breathed, and joined him in taking my gear off. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there.”

  “Campbell has warmed up to you being at our little pow-wows. Besides, even he admits that you have good input… sometimes.”

  Fish grabbed a jug of cleaning water and poured it into a bowl. We had different
levels of water around the camp. Clean-up water was filtered, but not sanitized. He squeezed a washcloth in the bowl and began to wipe away the grime on his face. I started to do the same.

  There was something big going on, and Fish and I both knew it.

  Dobson had mentioned a VIP. I was pretty sure it wasn’t Pitman. It had to be the woman or the man with glasses.

  “So, what’s going on?” I asked nervously. Fish wasn’t saying anything as he dressed in fresh clothing.

  “With?” he grunted.

  “With these people we rescued? We lost Gonzales for them,” I said, anger starting to finally build up. “Why did we go into that building?”

  Fish was silent a moment. I took the towel and began to wipe Boomer’s snout and head. The shepherd playfully burrowed into the towel as I cleaned him.

  “Well?” I asked again, no longer hiding my frustration. A part of me was relieved that I was getting angry. I felt I should have been more upset back at the construction site where Gonzales died.

  Fish grew angry as well, though it wasn’t at me. “We lost Gonzo because Cecil didn’t do his job. As for those four schlubs? According to Dobson, one of them is some doctor with the CDC. A specialist on this virus or something.”

  “Really? Why are they here? Where did they come from?” I asked while I dressed.

  “We weren’t sitting at a coffee shop, kid. It wasn’t important at the time. I’m sure we will learn that in this meeting.” Fish glanced around in frustration. “That bastard still has my .45.”

  Fish would not walk around without a weapon. I managed to grin.

  “Here,” I smiled, pulling out my .22 Ruger and holding it out to him.

  “Thanks,” he snatched it out of my hands. “It will be useful if an army of squirrels attacks the camp.” He stuffed the small caliber pistol in his pants.

  We left our shack and I sent Boomer off into the yard. Kolin was playing with his dog, Duncan, and Boomer joined in.

  Most of the camp was starting to eat. Kids always ate first, and they were all sitting around the camp fire. Usually, people ate in the main hall, but I guess Campbell had already claimed it for the command meeting.