"You see that everything is on our side," Vlad said, enthusiastically.
Hiroto looked at him, giving the impression of gauging him one last time, and then, a little smile appearing on his wrinkled, tired face, he nodded briefly, showing his acceptance, but adding, “You put pressure on me to not return my granddaughter to the haven offered by the Community. If ever something bad happens to her, I swear that you’re a dead man, Vlad!”
The man looked at him with a mix of fright and defiance and, not answering, he nodded affirmatively.
***
Treason
The foursome, comprising Hiroto, Johnny, Bo, and Harry, was following Vlad. As they walked slowly, trying to be as silent as possible, the old Japanese looked one last time at the van, which was now a dozen meters behind them.
Through the metallic grid protecting it, he saw Red, who was sitting on the front passenger's seat. She was watching them departing and smiling at him, and waved a hand to say goodbye.
Hiroto smiled warmly at her and, returning his attention in front of him, concentrated on his walk. Remembering an old Ninja trick that his father had taught him, he walked in almost complete silence, as his companions tried, also, to be as discreet as they could.
They walked for many minutes, deeper and deeper into the wood, led by Vlad.
As they were walking, they began to hear cackles.
Finally, after a moment, the ex-hit man murmured, "We've arrived, let's all hide behind this big bush."
Harry leaned forward, so that his head wasn't elevated above its higher branches.
Hiding cautiously, the foursome realized, disgusted, that Vlad had been telling them the truth. A dozen meters away, they saw a big truck which was parked. It was one of the vehicles that the Community owned, mainly used for road works, inside the Community. It was surrounded by many undead, all munching, blood dripping on their faces and dirty clothes. They were clumsily walking around the vehicle, on the ground covered with bloody feathers, attracted by the easy lunch.
This truck was quite peculiar, because while all its front and back doors were tightly shut, a window was opened on its roof, protected by a metallic grille, like the other windows of the vehicle. The upper part of a man was protruding from the open roof window. Someone was apparently passing to him, from inside, a bag.
The man got a chicken out of it, which was chattering like crazy, holding it by its legs. Being careful not to let the animal flee too soon, he grabbed one of its legs and made a brisk movement with his hand.
The observers heard the sickly cracking sound of the leg's broken bone, and the cry of pain that followed, coming from the animal.
Bo felt sad for the poor chicken that the man threw towards the zombies, which were waiting below, around the vehicle. The chicken softened as well as it could its fall on the ground, at the feet of two of the undead.
These growled while fighting against one another, wanting to have the chicken for themselves. The two zombies exchanged horrible claws with the sharp knuckles of their bony hands.
During that time the poor volatile dragged slowly on its intact leg, despite its broken one, and could only crawl on the dirty ground.
Almost all the observers could not help but wince, only being able to imagine the suffering of the poor chicken, which was trying to save its life.
The living dead approached it, slowly, clumsily. It was clear that the animal had been wounded on purpose, so that the horrible creatures had a chance to catch it.
The chicken's suffering ceased quickly when a zombie caught it with both hands and ripped off its head with its avid mouth. As it munched it noisily, blood dripping from its mouth and the severed neck of its feathered victim, there were sounds of crunched bone.
That's when a group of other creatures arrived, seizing the hen from its hands, provoking its anger, making it roar with frustration. The others didn't give it their attention, and they tore off of it chunks of flesh and feathers, adding more blood on the ground.
The observers heard a new cry of pain and, looking at the truck again, they understood that it had come from another purposely wounded chicken, which was in turn thrown down to the creatures avid for flesh and blood.
"Poor animals," Bo said, horrified while watching the scene, and even disgusted. He caught a glance of Johnny who nodded, showing the same shocked face as him. Gazing at Hiroto and Vlad, he didn't see any trace of emotion on their faces. He knew that the old Japanese had a tendency to hide his real emotions, but he knew that he had the reputation of being someone very human. Because of the cultural influence of the long line of Samurais from which he originated, he was only showing the harsh attitude of a warrior. Concerning Vlad, things weren't as clear... Was he showing a similar self-control... or, worse, was he indifferent to the suffering of other living beings?
Hiroto, personally, wanted a clear answer to the question which was burning his mind and, so, he asked, "Why, Vlad?"
"Greed. Thirst for power. And many other things and resources he has access to. He's gained all these things by reassuring people that he could protect them, against the source of their nightmares… namely the living dead."
"I don't understand," Bo said. "Why are they giving all those chickens to the Zombies?"
"You still don't understand what Vlad means?" the old man said softly, looking at him with feigned surprise, before continuing, "Adams attracts crowds of zombies around the Community by giving food to them. That way, the Community's citizens see them surrounding its walls, and then they don't dare go outside without Adams' permission. Another advantage is that way, they're not too curious, and they don't see what's happening beyond the Community's walls. They see him as their skilled and wise protector, their savior, and so, they give him all the power. And access to all resources, that Adams redistributes as he sees fit."
"And he gives poultry to the zombies," continued Bo, seemingly disgusted. "Raised and grain-fed from the resources coming from the hydroponic operations, while we eat chicken only during the days of feast. Turkey only for Thanksgiving, for example. I hate him, I love to eat chicken!"
"Deciding on dearth periods is part of Adams' power," added Vlad, "and it reinforces it."
Hiroto's face, usually impassive, showed unhappiness.
"Adams makes sure that people are at the limit of food shortage, in order to stay in power"
"There's only one name for that… Treason!" Bo said while gritting his teeth, almost yelling.
"You're right," Johnny murmured, "he's a real Motherfucker!"
"You understand why we must stop him," Vlad added in his turn, obviously glad to join the group's discontent, hoping it would bring him closer to them. Hecontinued, "Take as many pictures as you can, we need to bring back as much evidence as we can to the Community."
"It's already under way," Bo murmured, filming the scene with his smartphone, extending it barely out from behind the shrub, in order to avoid being noticed.
"Great," Johnny murmured, satisfied. "We're going to make that paper-pusher pay for all that!"
While they were focused on the scene in front of them, they didn't pay attention to the sounds surrounding them... Hiroto being an exception.
"Watch out," the old Japanese murmured with a harsher tone while he looked around. "Something or someone is approaching us."
His warning stressed the others who listened more intently, on guard. They then heard the sound of a little branch trodden on by a foot, on the dirty ground covered with a thick pile of dead leaves.
Bo became suddenly tenser and, more concentrated, he scrutinized the surroundings. "Someone's coming," he yelled, and that's when they saw them.
Two zombies were approaching them on each side, and the four frightening creatures had, obviously, decided to catch them in the middle.
Hiroto frowned. This behavior was quite unusual for such mindless monsters. They had long sleeves, boots, and big fishermen hats, with large brims hiding their eyes.
Bo stopped filming the scen
e and, putting his smartphone in a pocket of his trousers, he took the rifle that he had on his shoulder and aimed it at one of the living dead.
"No!" Hiroto shushed, lowering the barrel of the weapon toward the ground.
This surprised the young man who didn’t shoot and looked at him, taken aback.
The old man continued,”Iif you shoot, Adams and his men will spot us."
"He’s right," Johnny whispered. "We must get rid of them in the old way," and having said that he pulled his sword out from his scabbard, handling it with both hands and awaiting the two zombies arriving on his side.
Hiroto did likewise, watching out for the other two creatures. The two pairs of creatures growled in a strange way, making movements in the air with their outstretched arms in front of them.
The two kenjutsu practitioners, both on guard, were waiting for them.
That's when the old Japanese, while he was observing the zombies, felt that there was something odd about them. His sixth sense made him suspicious.
The four living dead pointed their arms in their direction.
"Down, everybody!" Hiroto yelled, pushing Johnny and Bo who fell on the ground.
Vlad, who was in front of Harry, rolled over, startling the big black who remained standing.
It was during that split second that the zombies very quickly rolled up their sleeves and handled guns, shooting. They missed very narrowly the Master and the young men, but shot Harry in the chest.
"Dad!" Johnny shouted, in a crawling position on the dirty ground, goggling at his father.
The latter remained standing, haggard. He lowered his gaze and looked, horrified, at two ugly holes, in the zone of his own heart. Bloody flesh, inside, was apparent, but not a single drop of blood poured out.
He slowly looked up at his son, surprise visible on his face.
Finally, his eyes still turned toward Johnny, the black giant fell heavily on his big knees, raising a lot of dust when they touched the ground.
He then collapsed, falling with a big thump on his belly, his face burrowing in the mulch.
"Put your hands in the air, if you don’t want to meet the same fate," yelled one of the living dead, lifting his fisherman hat. Doing that he unveiled mischievous eyes, very much alive.
The three other false zombies removed in turn their hats, pointing their weapons in the direction of the survivors.
Bo suddenly jumped on his feet and shot at one of them, startling everybody as he swiftly shot at another one. As the sound of the two gunshots reverberated between the trees in this part of the wood it was muffled by the dense vegetation.
Finally it left room for silence…
The young blond man stood there with his rifle in his hands, astonished to see that the two men remained standing too.
They then looked at each other and chuckled when they saw Bo, looking stupidly at the weapon in his hands.
A new noise made him flinch and he didn't dare move, since it had been the click of the barrel of a little revolver, which was now pressed against one of his temples.
"A futile move, Batman," said Vlad, who was holding the gun. "It's a pity for you that our pals gave to all of you blank shots!”
Bo lifted his useless weapon and his other bare hand in the air, a drop of sweat trickling along his endangered temple. He opened wide eyes full of fear, looking in front of him.
As the rifle was taken out of Bo's hand by one of Vlad's accomplices, the hit man looked at Hiroto, who was lying on the ground with Johnny. Sneering, he ordered him, "Stand up, Oldie!"
Hiroto stood up with difficulty, helped by his young colored student, while Vlad removed the barrel from Bo’s temple. The latter sighed, clearly relieved to be left alive...
Left alive for the moment, at least, the old Japanese told himself, continuing to meditate about the situation, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re soon executed… We’re inconvenient witnesses…
"Move ahead," the hit man shouted, showing the path by pointing his gun in the direction of the truck.
As the trio began to walk in that direction, Vlad didn't see the old man insert discreetly a finger into the thick belt he was wearing over his trousers, extracting from it a little spherical object.
Hiroto briskly threw the sphere onto the ground. A blue cloud accompanied by a loud explosive sound erupted from the ground where the sphere had been broken. They were all plunged inside a bluish haze.
"What the fuck? Don’t let them escape," Vlad shouted. With his men he began to shoot in all directions around them. They all yelled nervously, abashed.
The blue fog had a vague odor of gunpowder and began to clear up.
"I see someone," one of Vlad's men said and he ran in a direction, followed by the others. Indeed, the hit men were beginning to perceive silhouettes. They approached one who was standing many meters away, and aimed their firearms at it, ready to open fire again.
"Don’t shoot!"
The voice had startled them, and Vlad, who approached, had recognized Johnny's voice.
The smoke dissolved completely, and he had the confirmation that Johnny was standing in front of him, with his hands up, and his friend Boris crouched on the ground near him, to avoid any stray bullet. Vlad looked around, peering at each surrounding tree.
No evidence of Hiroto.
“Where’s Hiroto gone?” the man asked angrily, and Bo, who had stood up, shrugged, obviously not knowing the answer.
Johnny didn’t surprise the hit man when he only answered with a mocking smile.
"Shit!" shouted the hit man, resisting the urge to shoot down the colored young man. He glanced with furious eyes at their two remaining prisoners and yelled, waving once again his gun toward the vehicle not far away, "Go!"
Hands up, the two young friends walked in that direction, followed by Vlad who was aiming at their backs. He turned around and said to two of his men, "You two, dispose of Harry Jackson’s body, while we accompany the prisoners. No evidence!”
Johnny looked at him with disgust and then gazed at his father's body, lying behind the two men, and the young man’s body twitched.
Vlad raised his gun, aiming at Johnny’s head and said, “What? You want to attack me? Do it, make me happy, and I’ll make a hole in your fucking skull!”
Johnny calmed down, only disgust showing on his face.
“Go, I said,” Vlad yelled, and as Johnny turned around and began to walk with his friend, the hit man chuckled and added, “Finally you don’t have as much self-control as you pretend, heh?”
Vlad, his accompanying men, and his prisoners walked behind a bush and disappeared out of the two remaining men's view.
"Sonofabitch," one of these said, as they approached the cadaver together. He looked back, angrily, in the direction where the others had gone, and facing his comrade who had his back to the corpse, he continued, "I hate the way Vlad gives orders to us!"
The other shrugged. "He's the boss - after Adams, of course – for better or worse... Well, let's rid ourselves once and for all of that large carcass."
"You're right," the man chuckled, and he waved a machete, continuing, "I hate butcher jobs, but let’s cut that big cadaver in pieces and give them to the zombies, they’ll eat everything, and help us to get rid of it so that…"
He stopped speaking, opening wide eyes, worrying his comrade who was facing him, who asked, "What’s up?" sensing too late a presence behind him when his head was smashed against the one of his interlocutor.
The two men failed, their faces having become a bloody and meaty mess, and began to fall together. Their drop was retained as Harry’s chest arrived between them. He lifted both of them in the air like two puppets, their necks in his big hands, their feet dangling under them over the ground…
He then smashed their heads harder against each other, making their skulls literally explode, bloody bony pieces projected everywhere with their liquefied brains.
Harry finally released the nearly headless bodies which fell on the muddy gr
ound. He looked at the now immobile bodies, bleeding on the wet ground, with hatred in his gaze and shouted a deafening shout full of anger, which lasted many seconds.
Then he stopped shouting, breathing heavily, watching lengthily his oeuvre. He finally worked at calming himself, swallowing with difficulty, trying to relax by breathing more slower.
He looked around and moved off toward another part of the wood.
***
Revelation
Red was drowsy, as she was half seated, half lying in the passenger's seat, her eyes already half closed while she was looking at the nearby trees, which were plunged into near-darkness. After the departure of the group, she had been progressively reassured not to see any sign of a zombie in the area.
Her attention was suddenly captivated by a swift movement between the trees, in front of her. She opened her eyes wider, trying to discern what it was, but nothing moved again. Or was it a figment of her imagination? A moment that she found long passed, as she continued to try to keep a closer eye.
Nothing.
A metallic screeching made her shiver, ceasing as suddenly as it had been emitted. Many seconds unfolded, which she found endless, while, tense, she turned her head in all directions, looking through the windshield and windows, thanking in herself those who had installed the protective grid, outside them.
The door handle next to her was shaken.
Red became white with fear; that rattle meant that someone - or something - was trying to open the door! Fear provoked a rush of adrenaline in her, and she shivered, as horrible memories filled her mind…
Distant memories of ugly and voracious mouths, of soulless orbits watching her.
Of flames and of mouths devouring the bodies of her beloved ones.
She felt almost paralyzed, not daring to approach the edge of the window.
And that's when she saw them. A few red pairs of dots, unforgiving living dead eyes with their owners, apparently, approaching the van.
She heard a growling, and she then felt cold sweat slide down her back.
BESIEGED (HUNGRY Series Book 2) Page 7
