The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation

by Demers, J. D.

“Like shit. But your doctor says I’m already having a good reaction to the medicine.” Pitman rolled his large frame into a sitting position, swinging his legs to the floor.

  “Well, you look like shit,” Fish grunted. “I’d lie back down before Rich—”

  “Before I what?” Rich asked, entering the infirmary.

  Behind him, Campbell, Doctor Tripp, and Major Dobson followed, crowding the small room.

  “Before you give an annoying hour long lecture,” Fish finished.

  “He’s right,” Rich said as he walked over to Pitman and gently pushed him back down on his bed. “Trust me. It is not a fun listen.”

  “I’m hungry,” Pitman complained.

  “Then I will have someone bring you some soup,” Rich countered. “You need a couple more days in bed before—”

  “We don’t have a couple days, Rich,” Dobson interrupted.

  “It’s not up for debate,” Rich returned.

  “We’re going to take it one day at a time,” Campbell interjected. “Anyways, Christian, how are you?” Campbell asked, squeezing past the crowd to get to my bedside.

  “Okay.” I said, trying to sit back up. A sharp look from Rich convinced me to lie back down.

  Campbell gestured behind him. “Are you well enough to talk to Doctor Tripp?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, let’s leave these two to talk,” Campbell ordered.

  Rich raised a hand. “Twenty minutes, Doctor. That’s it.”

  “I’ll be back to check up on you, kid,” Fish said as he patted my leg. Everyone else except Doctor Tripp and Pitman left the infirmary.

  I motioned to the chair and she took a seat.

  “So, it seems what that young lady said is true,” she said, inspecting my bandaged arm.

  I winced as she touched a sensitive spot. “Yeah. I was going to try and talk to you, but the opportunity never really presented itself.”

  “This is quite… quite a revelation. But, we don’t have much time to talk. Rich seems pretty strict.” She let go of my arm and leaned back in her chair.

  I smiled. “Yeah, but he’s great.”

  Doctor Tripp nodded in agreement. “Yes, he knows his business. You guys are lucky to have him.” She paused for a moment, as if contemplating something. “Can you tell me, in your own words, how you discovered your immunity? And possibly anything that could have caused it? Do not think details are trivial. The more information we have the better our chances are of developing a vaccine.”

  Over the next ten minutes I relayed my story. From how I was sick in the beginning, but started to feel better the day before The Awakening. I recounted my fight with Dave as a zombie and how I treated myself. I also told her how I felt sick that night, but seemed to make a full recovery from the infection the next morning.

  “So, you think you staved off the virus a second time, only quicker?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah. It felt the same. I thought for sure I was going to change into a zombie, but nothing happened the next day. When I was bit the night we fled Ace Hardware, I felt it again, but it was even weaker than the second time.”

  “And now? Do you feel sick at all? Excluding, of course, the physical damage you received.” She seemed to be getting excited.

  I shook my head. “No, not at all.”

  “Hmmm,” she raised her finger to her lips. “It appears your immune system is fighting off the M Virus and M Supercells. Not only that, but your system seems to be getting stronger. I will need to run some labs, of course, but this could be the key we need.”

  “That’s good, right?” I asked, grinning.

  “Yes. Thank you, Christian.” Doctor Tripp stood to leave, but paused and turned around. “Where are you from? I mean your family?”

  “I was a military brat. I came from all over,” I replied.

  “I was thinking more of your heritage,” she corrected.

  “Oh… Umm, I’m not sure, really. My mom was a mutt. My dad was an only child, as was his grandfather. I think his side is English and French.”

  She nodded, still thinking. “Thank you again, Christian. We have a lot of work ahead of us.” Doctor Tripp turned and left the infirmary.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I said aloud.

  “It means you’re probably going with us to Hoover Dam,” Pitman answered.

  I sank into my bed and rolled over, facing the wall.

  “That’s a long ways off,” I told him.

  “Yes… it is,” he returned.

  ***

  The next day, Rich said I could go see Boomer. I was off the IV, but he still wanted to keep an eye on me. One hour was all I was given, and Karina was my escort.

  “He’ll be so happy to see you,” Karina told me as we walked to my shack. “He’s doing so much better, too. He’s already up and moving around. Rich gave him some drugs yesterday to keep him still. He said something about Boomer ripping his stitches or something.”

  She continued to babble as we marched through the camp. Normally, this got on my nerves, but that day, I was happy to hear it. The little squirt saved my life. I would have easily traded my sanity for her relentless mouth.

  I noticed people around the camp looked at me differently. There were a lot of greetings, smiles, nods, as if The Awakening had never happened. Or that the nightmarish lives we lived were close to being over. How wrong they were. But, I guess it was good for morale to see some sort of hope.

  I bumped into Jenna and received, shockingly, a long kiss on the cheek. Her eyes seemed about to flow with tears when she scampered away. It was an odd feeling.

  Boomer greeted me with more energy than he should have used. He leapt up on me, licking my face and whining with excitement. His fur had been shaven in a few spots, and stitch lines covered mangled skin.

  “So, why did they wait until Boomer returned to come rescue me?” I asked Karina who was petting Boomers tail. The canine’s head was nestled firmly on my lap as I played with his pointy ears.

  “That doctor… Tripp I think. That doctor said that if Boomer was back, it could mean that either you were dead or on the run. Fish gave the Captain an ultimatum, and half the camp backed him. The Captain finally agreed to send in everyone. Well, everyone except me. I volunteered, but—”

  “I get it,” I cut her off and then changed the subject. “I wonder why Boomer isn’t in more pain. He looks pretty bad.”

  “Rich said it looks worse than it is. Also, he said something about dogs having a high tolerance for pain.” Karina stood up. “We better get back. We don’t want to make Rich mad.”

  “I think I’m going to make him mad, anyways,” I grinned. “Boomer’s coming back with me. He can sleep on the end of my bed in the infirmary. Thank you for taking care of him.”

  Karina smiled. “Of course! He’s like a brother to me.”

  I smiled back, but it soon fell. Karina was like a little sister to me. That made me think of my real sister, Trinity. If she was still alive, she was all alone. I thought I would never know if she had survived.

  “Are you okay?” Karina asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I lied.

  Rich was not happy when he caught me walking back with Boomer, but after some pleading, he submitted to my demands. He did note that if Boomer peed on the floor, he would neuter him. I think Boomer got the message.

  I walked into the infirmary just before sunset and saw Major Dobson standing near Pitman’s bed. He spun and I noticed Pitman had an M4 rifle in his hand and a pistol lying on the small table next to his bed.

  Dobson turned and smiled at me. His limp from his sprained ankle was barely apparent as he approached me.

  “How are you feeling, Christian?” he asked.

  “Umm, good. I’m healing pretty well, I think,” I responded and patted the end of my bed with my hand. Boomer jumped to the bed and curled up on the blanket. “What’s going on?” I was eyeing Pitman’s rifle as I spoke, and then glanced up at Dobson.

  �
��Sergeant Pitman is your new shadow. Doctor Tripp needs you alive, and Pitman’s duty is to make sure you stay alive.” Dobson said evenly.

  “Does the Captain know about this?” I asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like the idea of having my own secret service agent, but…”

  “The Captain knows,” Dobson said quickly. “He wasn’t too happy about it, but Colonel Forester agrees. Doctor Tripp’s and your safety are priority.”

  He glanced over at Pitman, who nodded. “Don’t worry sir, I got him.”

  “Very well. Good night, gentlemen.” On that, Dobson turned and walked out of the infirmary.

  “So… what are you protecting me from?” I asked Pitman as I prepared for bed.

  Pitman glanced up at me as he leaned the M4 rifle against his bed, and chuckled. It was an odd, scary laugh. “Heh, zombies, scabs, humans… yourself if need be. Everything. You don’t leave this building without me from now on, got it?”

  “You sound less like a bodyguard and more like a babysitter,” I scoffed and chased a few pills with some water.

  “Tomato, tomahto,” he mused. “Just try not to give me the slip. I’d hate to cuff you while your wrist is still healing.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I sighed as I rolled over in my bed. Boomer moved up next to me and nuzzled into my chest.

  I had a feeling there was a lot of talk going on about me. I suddenly felt helpless. What were they going to do with me? I didn’t have a clue.

  ***

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be back for you,” a voice said into my ear.

  The grogginess that came with Rich’s cocktail of pain pills and antibiotics was terrible. It took me time to focus through the fog every time I woke up. Someone had just whispered something in my ear, and I couldn’t muster the energy to roll over.

  By the time my eyes finally focused, the room was empty, except for Pitman who was reading a book.

  “Did you just say something to me?” I asked, yawning.

  “Naw. A few people have been in here to see you, but they left before lunch time.”

  “Lunch time?” I winced. “What time is it?”

  “About one o’clock. You’ve been passed out, Christian.” Pitman sat up. He looked a lot better. His grey, sickly complexion was now gone, replaced by his natural dark brown color. His beard was gone as well as a new sharp haircut.

  “Who?” I said, looking around for Boomer. The canine was lying on the floor next to my bed.

  “Fish came in earlier. Then that girl Jenna came to see how you were doing. Some teenage brat that wouldn’t shut up stopped by to let your dog out. And that police officer, Cecil, just left about twenty minutes ago.”

  The drugs had my timetable all screwed up. It felt like someone had just whispered in my ear, yet Pitman said the last one here was Cecil, and that was almost a half an hour before I woke up.

  “Is something going on?” I asked curiously. Pitman was dressed in freshly cleaned Battle Dress. He had an ammo vest lying near his bed and his pistol was holstered onto a web belt.

  He stood up. “Yup. One of your hunter teams went missing. They’re sending out a search and rescue party.”

  I shot up off the bed, almost falling over from lightheadedness. “Who is missing?”

  Pitman shrugged. “Don’t know the names of the people that went missing. I think Specialist Gardner was one of them. I remember him. But the rest? No clue. The rescue party just left.”

  I scanned around the room. “Where’s my gun?”

  “Whoa,” Pitman raised his hands. “You’re not going anywhere, Christian.”

  “Those are my friends!” I countered.

  Pitman slowly approached me, “First, you are in no condition to leave the wire. Second, even if you were, I wouldn’t let you.”

  “I’m fine,” I countered.

  “That still doesn’t get you past my second point.” He was now face to face with me. His head seemed about twice the size of mine and his body twice as wide.

  Boomer didn’t like Pitman’s proximity to me and stood up. A rumble in his chest drew Pitman’s attention.

  “Tell your dog to back down, Christian.”

  I hesitated, but complied. I had a feeling Pitman could tear Boomer to pieces if he wanted to. I didn’t know much about Pararescue. Fish had told me they were Air Force Special Operations. Even if Pitman wasn’t SF, he was still a brick house.

  I put my hand on Boomer’s head. “Boomer, back!” I hissed.

  Boomer slowly backed down. He gave a last second growl, as if to say ‘I’m still watching you, bud’.

  “Can I at least have my gun?” I appealed.

  “I guess,” Pitman sighed, and then pointed over at Rich’s desk. “Cecil put it in there. It was on your gear, but Cecil thought it was a bad idea to have a gun lying around with children in the camp.”

  I walked over to the desk and pulled the drawer open. It wasn’t my Glock. It was Chad’s chrome .45.

  “This was Chad’s gun,” I corrected. “Not mine.” I picked it up and walked back over to my bed. After slumping down, I pulled the magazine and saw that it was still fully loaded.

  “That was your friend that you lost the other day, right?” Pitman asked.

  “Yeah…” I said quietly. “I found his gun…”

  My voice trailed off, remembering where I found his pistol. It was behind the X-Ray chair.

  Something wasn’t right.

  Cecil said Chad’s gun was still on his body when he reanimated as a zombie. Supposedly, Chad walked out of the building with it still on him.

  Why would Cecil lie? I thought. And if Chad had been attacked by zombies, and Cecil put him down, how would his .45 have gotten into the X-Ray room with Cecil anyway? Maybe he shot Chad in the X-Ray room? But if he did that, why weren’t the zombies that were attacking him still in there? And I was sure Cecil would have permanently put Chad down with a small sledge or something else if he were locked in the room with his dead body.

  Things weren’t adding up for me.

  “Sorry man,” Pitman said, walking over to his bed. “Didn’t mean to bring up your friend’s death.”

  “That’s not it…” I said, moving over to a pile of clothes at the foot of my bed. I rummaged through the pockets of my old jeans and pulled out Chad’s cell phone.

  “Pitman,” I turned around. “We have to go to Chad’s bunk.”

  Pitman eyed me. He wasn’t sure what I was thinking, and hell, I wasn’t either at the time. But something was wrong, and I had to figure out what it was.

  “It’s not going hurt for us to walk across camp, is it?” I continued to plead.

  After a moment, he agreed. “I guess not. Just don’t wig out on me or anything. You look pretty upset.”

  I was upset. I wasn’t sure why yet, but dots were starting to connect in my head. It was just fuzzy and I couldn’t see the complete picture yet.

  Pitman, Boomer and I left the infirmary and headed to one of the large sleeping areas.

  “Where are you going, Christian?” A familiar, annoying voice asked from behind.

  “Don’t worry about it, Karina,” I said, walking briskly in front of Pitman.

  She continued to follow us. “Did you hear Gardner, Bret and Jean are missing?”

  “Yeah,” I answered halfheartedly. I was trying to concentrate on the mystery of Chad’s death, or what was soon becoming a mystery to me. Karina was fogging up those thoughts.

  “Fish took a group to go look for them,” she continued.

  “I know. Karina, I’m kinda busy,” I said, glancing back at her.

  Karina smiled. “Okay. I’ll help!”

  I sighed and turned, continuing my march to the Runner’s barracks.

  I barged through the door and was surprised to see the room empty. It was cramped, but still housed ten people.

  “Where is everyone?” I said aloud.

  “They’re with Fish. He said he was worried it may be other survivors that our hunters ran
into and that he needed the firepower.”

  I tensed. Something felt wrong. I went over to Chad’s bunk and started sifting through his stuff.

  “What is it?” Pitman asked.

  I glanced up at the large man. “Something is not right, Pitman.”

  “I’m starting to get that,” he sighed. “But what are you looking for?”

  “We’re looking for something?” Karina piped in. “What? I can help.”

  I rolled my eyes, but they stopped on Cecil’s bunk, just a few feet away. “Karina, go through Cecil’s things.”

  Pitman raised a hand. “Whoa, Cecil may not like that, Christian.”

  Karina didn’t pay attention to Pitman, and started going through Cecil’s duffle bag. “What am I looking for?” she said, working intently at laying its contents on his bed in an organized manner.

  I turned and continued to move Chad’s stuff around, “I don’t know. I figure we’ll know when we find it.”

  “This is wrong, Christian,” Pitman persisted. “We can’t—”

  “There it is,” I said with excitement.

  Chad had a small battery charger used to jump cars. People would have them in the trunks of their cars and use them in emergency situations. This one had an outlet on it and Chad would charge it every few days. It was how he charged his cell phone.

  “Find anything yet?” I asked without turning around. I connected the charger to Chad’s phone.

  “I’ve found lots of stuff,” Karina answered sourly. “Underwear, socks, a couple of empty magazines…”

  “Enough, Christian,” Pitman said, moving toward Karina to stop her. She was still babbling, continuing on her list of things she was pulling from Cecil’s duffle bag.

  “Here’s his police badge. He has twenty-four dollars in his wallet, a picture of him on a motorcycle with some other guy—”

  “Stop it, girl!” Pitman said, grabbing her arm.

  I turned around and was about to yell at Pitman when the wallet Karina was holding dropped to my feet.

  I stopped. I bent down and picked up the wallet, oblivious to Karina’s complaining about being manhandled by the African-American version of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

  I stared at the picture, acid starting to creep up in my throat.