The Hunger (Book 2): Consumed

by Jason Brant

  “Time to die.” She stalked forward, her knees bent, weight on the balls of her feet.

  Tony squared off in front of her, his eyes going to the axe. “You’re going to need more than that to kill me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Cass moved to her right, stepping beside the clip. She kicked it with her boot, sending it toward the truck at Lance’s feet. She took a quick step and feinted with the axe, getting Tony to flinch.

  They circled each other, slowly closing the distance between them.

  Lance blinked sweat out of his eyes as he watched. He knew Cass was tough as nails, but Tony was a lunatic. A muscle-bound, militant lunatic.

  Tony struck first.

  He threw the pistol at her, making her dodge to the right. He drove forward, targeting her waist with his shoulder.

  Cass stepped back and threw a kick at his lowered face. It connected flush, but didn’t have enough power to put him down.

  He caught her foot and yanked it up, trying to get her to fall over backward.

  She pivoted on her other foot and yanked her leg free. Using her momentum, she spun around, letting the axe swing in a wide arc.

  Tony jumped back, the blade slicing inches from his chest.

  He smiled at her.

  A burst of gunfire by the greenhouse caught Lance’s attention. He peeled his eyes from Cass’ fight to see Eifort unloading her rifle at a bulky shadow in the trees.

  Her gun clicked empty and she tossed it aside as she backpedaled to Brown. He was still on his back, but he reached up as she approached and took her hand. She hauled him to his feet and they walked backward, keeping their eyes on the mass moving in the darkness before them.

  Tony feinted left, getting Cass to react by swinging the axe again. He dodged it with ease and lunged at her, throwing a haymaker punch at her face.

  She ducked down, letting the blow sail overhead, but his shoulder rammed into her. She sprawled on her ass, but managed to hold onto the axe. Tony ran past her, snatching his pistol from the ground as he went for the rear truck.

  Eifort and Brown limped over, their steps sluggish from the damage they’d taken. Brown’s eyes were distant and bloody.

  “Untie me!” Lance wriggled in his bindings for emphasis.

  Eifort bent down and grabbed the chain, unhooking it from the rope around his ankles.

  “I don’t have a knife!”

  Lance nodded at the dead body of one of the guards. “Take one from him!”

  She ran over and found a hunting knife in a guard’s pocket. As she worked on the thick rope around his legs, Lance looked up at the doc, about to shout for him to help Cass. When he saw the spacey way Brown gazed around the field, Lance knew that sending him toward Tony would get the man killed.

  “Eifort, hurry! Cass can’t beat him by herself.”

  “I’m trying!”

  Tony stood by the rear truck, searching the ground for the clip as Cass ran up behind him.

  She swung again, but he dodged the blade with little effort. His grin grew wider every time she missed. He was getting her timing down.

  Lance felt the tie around his legs loosen and kicked them wildly, throwing the rope off his ankles. He dug his heels in and pushed his body toward the truck by his head.

  The chain attached to his cuffs loosened from the slack and he grabbed it, unhooking his arms. His battered body strained as he got up, using what little energy he had left. Pins and needles stabbed at his feet as blood rushed back into the starving tissue.

  He snagged the knife from Eifort and rushed forward, staggering as his ankles failed to bend properly from having their circulation cut off.

  Tony was directly ahead, with Cass off to the left. Lance ignored her and focused on the beefy man, knife held in front of his chest. He thrust the blade out when he was in range, aiming for Tony’s stomach.

  Tony caught his wrist with a vice-like grip. Pain ran up Lance’s arm as Tony twisted. He grabbed the knife and tore it from Lance’s hand as he shoved him to the ground.

  Lance fell to his side before rolling to his back. Tony stood above him, his shadow flowing over Lance, silhouetting his features.

  “Amateur.” Tony flipped he knife in his hand, letting the blade jut out of the bottom of his fist. “The woman put up a better fight than you.”

  It was Lance’s turn to smile. “I wasn’t trying to put up a fight—I just had to be a good distraction.”

  “What?” Tony spun on his heels, whipping his head around.

  Cass’ axe embedded in his chest with a crunch as it smashed its way through bone. One side of the blade went the entire way in, only stopping when the wooden handle was flush with his muscled torso.

  The knife fell from Tony’s hand. He stared down at the axe sticking from his chest, his eyes round circles of disbelief.

  He fell to his ass, looking from Cass to Lance. His mouth worked, but no words came out.

  Lance stood up with a groan. He thought his ribs might be broken.

  Tony collapsed to his back. A line of blood ran from his mouth, flowing down his cheek.

  “Don’t worry,” Cass said. “I’ll send your boyfriend Ralph to meet you in hell soon.”

  Eifort jogged over to them. She glared at Tony as the life drained from his eyes. “That guy was a real douche.”

  Lance coughed, holding his swollen ribs. “I thought I was supposed to be the wise ass around here?”

  He realized that the gunfire had abated, leaving the clearing quiet. A few people whispered to one another from hiding places around the cabin or by the trucks, but otherwise, silence hung in the air.

  Lance turned to the woods, holding a hand up to block the glare from the overhead lamps. He didn’t know who was shooting from the trees, or even if they were friendly, but he was aware that he would be in at least two pieces if they hadn’t helped.

  If they were another crazy faction at war with the Minutemen, then they were screwed. Lance, Cass, Eifort, and Brown had little fight left in them. If someone came out of the woods to claim the spoils of war, there was little they could do about it.

  “Is everyone OK?” Brown came up behind them. Though his gait was still unsteady, his eyes had cleared.

  “I’m fine,” Cass said. She used her forearm to wipe the blood running from her nose. “Could use a beer though.”

  Most of the guards were dead. The bodies of both the wounded and the deceased littered the clearing. Those still alive cried out for help that wouldn’t come. Even if Doc Brown could save them, Lance wouldn’t let him.

  He only had an inkling of what had happened in this camp, but it was enough to tell him that everyone involved deserved to die.

  “Lance?” Brown asked. “How about you?”

  Lance didn’t answer. He thought about the bite on his forearm—the death sentence that hung over his head—and decided to wait before he told anyone. They still had to deal with the people in the trees.

  “I’m fine.”

  The crowd behind them slowly stepped back into sight behind the house. Couples wrapped their arms around one another, watching Lance and his friends in fear and awe.

  They had toppled Tony and his soldiers.

  Or rather, the people in the woods had.

  Cass lifted Lance’s arm and put it on her shoulders, taking some of his weight off his feet. He gave her a small smile and kissed her forehead, tasting the salt covering her skin.

  “Who’s out there?” he called.

  They waited, listening as someone worked their way through the woods. Twigs and leaves trampled underfoot.

  A handful of men, all camouflaged with dark streaks on their faces and hands, emerged from the tree line. They held rifles against their shoulders, but the business ends were pointed at the ground.

  They moved slowly, their heads scanning around for more threats.

  Lance stood by Tony’s body and waited. These men would either kill them, or they wouldn’t, and there was nothing he could do about it.
r />   “Is the doctor alive?” one of the men asked.

  “What?” Lance held his hand up again, blotting the lights.

  “Is the doctor alive?”

  The men moved closer. Most of them had graying hair under camouflaged caps. A few had ample midsections. The group splintered into two factions, one going toward either side of the area behind the house. One moved to the back door of the cabin and peered inside.

  The man asking for Brown separated from the rest and jogged over to Lance.

  “Well?” As the man moved closer, Lance saw who it was.

  Nathaniel.

  “What are you doing here?” Lance wanted to hug him.

  “Looks like I just saved your ass. What the hell happened? I showed up in time to see you about to be drawn and quartered.”

  “Our plan didn’t exactly work out.”

  “No shit. Yinz plan was pretty stupid. Now, where is the doc?”

  Brown stepped forward. “Are you looking for me?”

  “Are you a doctor?” Nathaniel lifted his camouflage baseball cap from his head.

  “I am.”

  “Good. I’ve got a sick baby. I need your help.”

  Brown stood up a little straighter. He grimaced as he adjusted his wounded shoulder. Contusions and cuts covered his face and hands, but his eyes looked alive again. “Where?”

  “Down the road a piece. We ain’t gettin’ there tonight though. Goddamn vampires are out in full force cause of Greensburg.”

  “What about Greensburg?” Eifort asked.

  “Yinz haven’t heard? It went down last night. Gone. People is scattered everywhere.”

  Brown grimaced. He palmed his face with his good hand, shaking his head. Eifort wrapped her arms around him.

  Lance extended a hand toward Nathaniel. “I don’t know what made you follow us, but thank God you did.”

  “I had a feelin’ the two of you were comin’ in here half-cocked.” He gave Lance a small smile and grabbed his hand, giving it two quick pumps.

  “Who are the rest of these guys?”

  “Friends of mine. Preppers like me, I guess you city folk would call ‘em. They hate that piece of shit Ralph just as much as I do. When I told ‘em what you were tryin’ to do with taking out Ralph and all, they jumped at the opportunity.”

  “We owe you a beer or fifty.” Cass wiped the blood coming from her nose again. Her swollen eye was growing darker by the second.

  “To be honest, we wasn’t planning on takin’ everyone out. Hell, we didn’t think it was possible. Soon as we saw Ralph and half his goons wasn’t here, we made a play.”

  One of the men by the house whistled. Nathaniel looked over and gave him a nod. “I’m needed. Stay away from these shot assholes—we’ll take care of ‘em.”

  He jogged away, moving with agility that surprised Lance considering his age.

  Cass wrapped her other arm around Lance and hugged him softly, not squeezing because of his ribs. “What the hell happened to you? You look like shit.”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. I was thrown in a pit of daywalkers and had to fistfight the asshole who blew up our boat.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Just another day at the office.”

  To Lance’s surprise, Eifort came over and hugged him as well, though she wasn’t quite as easy on his ribs as he would have liked. She released him and squeezed Cass as well.

  “You came for us.” Her eyes were watery as she stepped back and took Brown’s hand in her own. “I thought we’d never see you again.”

  “Of course we followed you,” Cass said. “We damn near lost you because we had to take care of those guys at the farm, but we managed.”

  “And almost got yourself torn in half,” Brown said, inspecting Lance’s battered torso. “I need to examine you for internal injuries.”

  Lance tried to grin, but his face hurt too much. “It’s been a shitty fucking day.”

  Chapter 13

  Lance sat at the table and watched as Brown inspected the damage to Cass’ face.

  After Nathaniel’s men ensured the cabin was safe, they’d moved inside. Nathaniel stayed outside, taking care of the rest of the guards and the other assorted scumbags.

  Now they waited their turns as Brown probed their injuries.

  Lance wasn’t sure how he would hide the bite mark from the doc, but he wasn’t ready to tell everyone about his situation yet. He still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he only had a limited amount of time left to live. The idea of telling Cass that he would become a Vladdie soon made a lump form in his throat.

  Eifort, who was relatively healthy compared to the rest of them, stood guard by the back door with an M4 given to her by one of Nathaniel’s friends.

  “You might have a fractured orbital,” Brown told Cass as he looked over her swollen eye. “Who did this to you?”

  “Tony. It’s OK though—we’re even now.”

  “I’d say you’re a little more than even.” Lance gave her a painful smile. He kept his wounded arm under the table so no one could see the teeth marks on his skin. “How did they catch you anyway?”

  “Remember how I was going to go into the garage and sabotage the generators? Yeah, that didn’t work.”

  “No shit.”

  “I was in there screwing around with their setup, which is pretty damn impressive by the way, when that militant piece of shit walked in. I couldn’t use the axe or the bow because I was in a tight space, trying to tear some cabling out. He gave me a punch that would have knocked bricks out of a wall.” She pointed at her eye. “Hence the shiner from hell. He gave me a few other shots, but I was still loopy from the first so they didn’t hurt too bad.”

  “How do you feel?” Brown asked her.

  “Like I got superman punched in the face.”

  “Any nausea or dizziness?”

  “I’m not dizzy, but I have been nauseous for a few days. I think I’ve got a cold or something.”

  Lance popped his mouth open and tried to look shocked. “And you’ve been having sex with me? Great, now I have cooties.”

  “You’re such a dumbass.”

  “You might have a concussion.” Brown hissed as he stood up out of his chair and went over to a refrigerator. He opened the freezer atop it and pulled out a few ice cubes. Grabbing a dishcloth from the sink, he wrapped the ice in it.

  Lance never thought he would see man-made ice again. He marveled at the fact that they had a semblance of normal life here still. Or, rather, they would have if the leadership hadn’t been so insane.

  A running refrigerator was akin to magic compared with the lifestyle Lance was now accustomed to.

  The doc handed the makeshift ice pack to Cass and told her to hold it against her eye. He turned his attention to Lance. “OK, let’s see what we have going on here.”

  “I’m fine. Take care of everyone else first.” Lance shifted in his seat, but kept his arm hidden. “Honestly, I’m feeling better already.”

  That was a lie. His body ached so badly that he felt like he’d been in a car accident.

  “Don’t make me have Cass hold you down.” Brown walked behind him and began manipulating his ribs.

  Lance sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The doc didn’t have the gentlest touch.

  “Hurt?” Brown asked.

  “What was your first clue?”

  Cass held the ice to her swollen eye, looking at Lance with the other. “Tell me what happened with you? You were supposed to check out the back of the cabin.”

  “I did, but then I overheard them talking about another place further into the woods. I went back there to check it out and that’s when I ran into that piece of shit who blew up our boat.”

  “But you said you had to fight off daywalkers? Where?”

  “They have a pit back there with a handful of the infected in it. They were feeding them a dead body.”

  “What?”

  Brown stopped examining his ribs. “Yeah,
say that again? Why would they do that?”

  “No idea. There were a lot of bones in there too. This wasn’t the first time. Not even close.” Lance lowered his eyes, staring at a notch in the wooden table. “And Don, my wife’s boyfriend or whatever, was one of the infected.”

  “Are you sure?” Cass asked.

  “Yeah. It was him.”

  “Was Liz in there too?”

  “I’m not sure.” He recalled the appearances of the other daywalkers. “I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe she’s here.”

  Lance thought he should go look through the crowd outside for her, but he didn’t think he had the energy to do it just yet.

  Brown took his pulse. “I think you’re all right. Some bruising and cuts, but I don’t think you have any broken ribs.”

  If you only knew, Lance thought.

  “So why were they keeping a few of the infected as pets?” Cass asked.

  Lance turned around and called for Eifort. She appeared at the door of the kitchen a moment later.

  “What’s up?”

  “Do me a favor—go outside and ask around for a piece of shit named Mullins. If he’s still alive, bring him in here so we can ask him some questions. Get Nathaniel in here too—he’ll want to hear this.”

  “On it.” Eifort disappeared into the next room.

  They heard the back door slam shut a moment later.

  A few shrieks from Vladdies roaming the forest were audible over the electric hum of the kitchen appliances.

  Lance hadn’t realized just how much noise used to surround a person all the time. Music and cars and just the general buzz of everyday life had been automatically tuned out by everyone. Now that all of that was gone, Lance noticed how loud a regular old refrigerator was.

  “What happened to the man who blew up the Duchess?” Brown asked. He took bandages he’d found in the bathroom and began wrapping the nicks and scrapes on his hands and arms.

  “I scuttled him.”

  Cass shook her head. “Jesus, you’re so lame.”

  “I thought that was pretty clever.” Lance shrugged. “He’s at the bottom of the pit with my baseball bat nailed to his back.”

  “Good.” Brown put a Band-Aid on one of his knuckles.