The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged

by Brant, Jason

  “They are. At least, everywhere we’ve seen so far. They dig an interconnected series of tunnels around their nests. Usually, they build off a central hub like a sewer or subway, but lately we’ve seen them breaking their big nests into smaller ones. Harder to kill them off that way.”

  Lance bit the inside of his cheek. His legs and hands ached. Colt confirming their fears about the Vladdies getting smarter felt like a kick to the gut. Things were going from bad to worse with each passing hour.

  “My men are tired from the trip and the fighting,” Colt said. “I sure wouldn’t mind if you had some grub for them to eat and a few cots to sleep on. Besides, I’d like to have a longer conversation with you all while they’re resting. After that, we’ll help you get your camp secured for tonight. They came so close to taking you out last night that they’re sure to come back at you even harder.”

  “Of course,” Brown said. “We have an open policy here—you can come and go as you please. What’s ours is yours. Breakfast is being cooked right now.”

  Brown and Eifort walked with Colt back to his men. They spoke for a while, introducing each other, before they moved their vehicles further into the clearing.

  Cass turned to Lance. “Well, this is going better than I’d even hoped.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What do you mean, maybe? They saved our asses last night.”

  Lance watched as Colt strutted through the camp, nodding at people and inspecting their setup. “But if they’re so great, why are they here?”

  “What?”

  “Why are they going from camp to camp? Why are there less than a dozen of them? Something doesn’t add up here.”

  Chapter 15

  Lance shoveled eggs into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. The booze in his system and pain in his hands made him ravenous. He’d feel even better if he had a little time to sleep.

  He sat between Cass and Brown, facing a fire they’d built inside an old tire rim. Eifort was on the other side of Brown, stripping her rifle down.

  Colt and two of his men sat across from them on the other side of the fire. He had a fresh cigar and a cup of coffee. His men ate greedily, not even bothering with utensils. They threw their paper plates in the fire when they were finished.

  “Why are you here?” Lance asked finally.

  “To help.” Colt blew a smoke ring and watched Lance. “Why else?”

  Lance didn’t answer. He held the major’s gaze.

  “I see you don’t quite buy that,” Colt said.

  “Not really. Charity isn’t too big on anyone’s to-do lists anymore.”

  “Fair enough. I have two missions. One, to kill as many of those sick bastards as possible. And two, I want to help people survive as best I can. The human race is on the verge of becoming little more than a footnote in the Earth’s history. I’m doing what I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.” He laughed. “And I’m not doing it out of charity. I’ve spent my whole life preparing for, and fighting in, a series of wars. This is the battle to end all battles, and I’m on the frontlines. This is what I’m built for, and I’m good at it.”

  Brown shifted in his seat. “What do you want from us?”

  “Just to give us a place to put our boots up for a bit.” Colt looked back to Lance. “And we want to see what the Were... Vladdie, sorry, presence is like in these parts. We’ve been listening to some radio transmissions from a crazy guy out of Pittsburgh—”

  “The Wildman of Monroeville,” Cass said.

  “Yes, him. His reports have told us a lot about the movements and patterns of the infected. We’d like to meet him. You’re the closest camp to him that we know of.”

  Cass tossed a log onto the fire. “He won’t meet with you. He won’t even meet with us, and he’s been giving us info for weeks.”

  Colt grinned. “We’ll come to an agreement. So, yes, Lance, we aren’t just here to help. We want to kick some werewolf ass while we’re here. I hope that isn’t too upsetting to you.”

  They continued watching each other for several seconds. Lance felt that there was more going on than Colt was admitting to, but he didn’t know what. He just didn’t like the feeling he had about the major.

  If he was so good at leading his men, and killing the infected, then why were there so few of them? What had happened to the last camp he’d been in?

  Adam had taken a few of the soldiers out on a scavenging run. They were looking for light bulbs, food, and an assortment of other supplies to help them prepare for the night. Others were building burn piles at strategic points around the camp.

  The Vladdies had managed to break the bulbs, but what would they do about the fires? They couldn’t carry water to extinguish them. Brown and Colt had decided that the light provided by the flames was a surer bet.

  The mechanics were building cages out of wood and chicken wire to hang around the bulbs. If the Vladdies managed to get around the fires, they would have a much harder time breaking the lights again.

  Greg watched as two women climbed a ladder and worked to attach the first cage. “You got it, bro. Put a little higher so... yeah... right there. Nice work, bro.”

  “He’s an annoying one, isn’t he?” Colt asked.

  Brown ignored his question. “So all you want is a place to sleep? That’s all you need from us?”

  “That’s it. We’ll help out around here in exchange, of course. We have a lot of firepower, even if we’re undermanned for the time being. You help us, and we’ll help you. Look at it this way, Doctor Brown, we’ve managed to survive on the road for this long. Imagine what we can help you do at a nice little place like this.”

  Lance listened to them negotiate without chiming in. He wanted to tell them that they had to leave, but he had no reason for thinking this. Gut feelings weren’t enough to send someone out into the wild.

  Colt waved his arm at the solar array. “You’ve done well for yourselves. And the story about this Ralph fellow getting women pregnant is disgusting. It was a service to mankind that you killed him, Lance.”

  “He didn’t leave me much of a choice.”

  “Even still. Well done.”

  The group dispersed then, leaving the fire to burn out. Brown, Colt, and Eifort walked the perimeter, taking notes and devising better ways to secure the area.

  Cass and Lance helped rearrange the sleeping quarters.

  More than ten people living at the compound had died during the night. Tents and RVs now stood empty. Possessions were divvied up, beds reassigned.

  Arguments broke out.

  Cass and Lance worked as arbiters, doing their best to keep the peace. Things calmed down by noon as people began to settle in again. The arguments over possessions had sickened Lance. There were more than enough supplies to go around.

  The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. People worried about property more than they did survival.

  Lance walked through the garden, plucking a ripe tomato from a vine and biting into it. He didn’t speak for a while, lost in his own thoughts. He questioned their ability to survive at the compound for the first time in weeks.

  He feared losing Cass and his unborn child. He dreaded letting down those who looked up to him. Even with Colt and his men at the compound now, he didn’t like their odds

  “You don’t like him,” Cass said as they left the garden.

  “Who?”

  “Colt.”

  “He’s not really my type. I don’t get all hot over muscular, intelligent, leader types.”

  Cass grinned. “Are you jealous of him?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I don’t trust him, there’s a difference.” Tomato juice ran down Lance’s chin. He wiped at it with the back of his hand and sucked in a harsh breath at the pain that came. “He’s not telling us everything.”

  “He saved our lives last night.”

  “That’s why I’m keeping my mouth shut. For now.”

  They
passed the pit where Lance had fought a handful of daywalkers to the death. The pit where he’d found Don, the bastard who had left with Lance’s wife during the apocalypse. They stopped at the edge, staring down at the red-stained dirt below them.

  “OK, maybe I’m a little jealous of how cool he looks while smoking those cigars. What is it about a cigar that makes a man look intelligent?”

  Cass laughed. “What are you talking about, dumbass?”

  “Seriously, think about it. When you see a guy smoking a cigar, he has this calmness about him. Like he’s thought things through and is just relaxed about everything.”

  “You’re nuts.” Cass took his half-eaten tomato and bit into it. She grinned around the fruit. “Maybe because a man with a cigar isn’t in a hurry. He has nowhere to be.”

  “Maybe I should take up the habit.”

  “This is a seriously weird conversation. I think you breathed in too much smoke last night, and it damaged your brain.”

  They followed the path leading to the cabin, discussing plans for dealing with the infected. When they got to the side of the house, Lance heard someone call out to him from across the field.

  He turned, eyes roaming the clearing. Colt stood by the solar panels, waving him over.

  “Shit,” Lance mumbled.

  “Go see what he wants. I’ll help get the wood piles ready for tonight.” Cass pointed to the tents. “And try not to act weird when you’re talking to him.”

  Lance grumbled as he started across the field.

  Chapter 16

  “I hear that you’re looked up to around here.”

  Lance shrugged. “I’ve been told that. No idea why.”

  “You appear to be a man of action, Lance. I like that. They say that you took a knife to the back to protect the woman you love. Sacrifice is admirable and honorable.” Colt pulled a cigar from his pocket and offered it to Lance.

  “No, thanks. I’m concerned about lung cancer.” Lance couldn’t help but wonder who had been talking so much. The man had only been there for a few hours.

  Colt chuckled. “You like to crack wise too. Smart-ass humor is a favorite of mine.” He stuffed the cigar in his own mouth before pulling a Zippo from his pocket and lighting it.

  Lance figured the man must have spent a small fortune on smoking before everything went to hell. Now, he probably spent a considerable amount of time trying to find cigars in abandoned shops and bars. He consumed them at an almost comical pace.

  “What can I do for you, Major? I’m a little busy right now.”

  “I understand, but this is important. It’s obvious that Brown is the brains of the operation here. He’s an incredibly intelligent man. Compassionate too. That’s important. But it’s painfully clear that he doesn’t make the hard decisions. You do.” Colt walked toward the trees, beckoning Lance to follow.

  “Hard decisions? I can’t say that I follow.”

  “What happened last night when the shit hit the fan?”

  “I set myself on fire.” Lance kept pace, trying to figure out where the conversation was heading.

  “I’m being serious, Lance. If you want my help, then I need to get an understanding of how things run around here. Brown told me that you ventured through the darkness to find bulbs and when that didn’t work, you set a vehicle on fire. A man who puts himself in harm’s way to save others is a valuable asset during times like this.”

  “Cass and Eifort came with me. I didn’t do it alone. Hell, I didn’t accomplish much of anything, actually. They killed a bunch of the infected and kept me safe while I managed to set myself on fire.”

  They stopped by the tank. Colt leaned against it, puffing on his cigar. He eyed Lance.

  “And what did the doctor do while you were trying to save everyone?”

  Lance opened his mouth to reply before shutting it again. What was Colt up to? Was this an attempt at sowing discourse through the camp? A way of undermining Brown?

  “The doc did everything he could. He’s running himself ragged trying to stay on top of everything around here.”

  Colt held a hand up. “I’m not knocking the good doctor. All I’m trying to do is make a point. You’re a warrior. Maybe not an effective one, but you put the effort in and people around here see that. It’s clear that they hold you in high regard.”

  Lance didn’t know how to respond to that so he didn’t bother.

  “That sort of deference can prove useful if it’s exploited correctly,” Colt said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Right now? Nothing. But if things get radical again, as they did last night, then hard decisions might have to be made. It’s important to know that the people will follow you.”

  “What kind of hard decisions?” Lance felt like he had strings attached to him and a puppeteer hovering overhead. He forced himself not to ball his hands into fists. Attempts to keep the growing anger out of his voice failed. “Speak fucking English.”

  “Relax, Lance.” Colt kept puffing away, not an ounce of concern showing on his face. If he was any calmer, he might have fallen asleep. “I’m here to help, remember?”

  “Then help us get some more guns. Get your men prepared for the night. Don’t bullshit me about hard decisions and then not tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “Fair enough,” Colt said. “There are too many people in this camp. One thing I’ve seen over and over again is that the big collectives of survivors always fail. There are too many variables when you’re dealing with large groups of people.”

  Lance looked over his shoulder at the tents, searching for Cass. Colt was making all of the same arguments Cass had when they’d first stumbled into the safe zone at Heinz Field. She’d worried that someone would screw up, and everyone would die.

  Of course, she’d been right.

  But her tune had changed when they’d found all the pregnant women at Ralph’s camp. She’d decided that they needed to stay and help, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

  Colt continued, “So when I speak of hard decisions, I’m talking about splitting the camp.”

  Lance spun around, opening his mouth to tell the major to go fuck himself.

  “Hold on, Lance. I don’t mean to kick them out on their asses. We would set up a different location for them. One that’s as defensible as this camp. But less people means a higher chance of survival.”

  “If you think I’m going to go along with something like that, then you might as well turn around and march your ass out of here. I won’t make these people fend for themselves.”

  “I see.” Colt watched as two of his men helped pile wood close to the edge of the forest. They dumped oil over the split logs. “It’s disappointing to hear that you aren’t willing to do what’s necessary.”

  The pain in Lance’s hands and legs was forgotten as he ground his teeth and stared at Colt. His initial wariness of Colt had been accurate. This man wasn’t the benevolent force that he pretended to be. Now, as he glared at the muscle-bound major, Lance wondered how he could get the man out of the camp.

  Movement at the mouth of the driveway caught Lance’s attention. He stepped to the rear of the tank and held a hand up, shielding his eyes from the sun.

  Adam drove a black Explorer with a handful of Colt’s soldiers sitting in the back. He put the vehicle in park behind the cabin and climbed out, his eyes scanning the clearing. When he spotted Lance, he jogged over.

  “We have a problem.” Adam wiped sweat from his brow. “We went up to Greensburg to find some bulbs and other supplies. Remember that sound we heard in Latrobe? It’s in Greensburg too, and it’s even louder.”

  Lance cursed. “Did you see any of those holes?”

  “Yeah, a ton of them. That damn chittering sound was close to the openings too.”

  “What chittering?” Colt asked. He moved closer, squinting at Adam.

  “It sounds like chewing or scratching or something.” Adam shook his head. “It’s hard to describe, but i
t’s coming from those holes in the ground. We heard it when we passed a storm drain too. I think the bastards are dug in all over the place.”

  “Where was this, exactly?” Lance asked.

  “We saw it outside of a Primanti Brothers up Route 30 a bit.”

  Colt glanced over at Lance. “You know where that is?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go take a look.”

  Lance looked up at the sky, gauging how long they had until sundown. There was plenty of time, but he didn’t like to leave the camp so late. It made the timing tight if they got a flat tire or hit an overly congested spot in the road. “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.”

  “How many more tomorrows are there going to be if we don’t get on top of this? You have a rat problem, Lance, and I’m the best exterminator in town. I’m not suggesting we wage a war today, but if I can get a look at the situation, then I’ll spend the night formulating a plan of attack. When the sun comes up in the morning, we’re going to kick some ass.”

  Lance nodded. That made sense to him. He figured getting away from the camp would allow him to dig at Colt a bit more to find out his plans. Not having him around the others might open him up.

  “Why were you all the way up at the Primanti Brothers? That’s on the other side of the city.”

  “We had a helluva time finding those bulbs. They’re some kind of special size, and we had to check a ton of different stores.” Adam bobbed his head toward the Explorer. Joe and a few others were unpacking the equipment from the back of it. “But we got a whole bunch of them. Even if those bastards break more tonight, we have enough to replace them several times over.”

  “Nice work,” Lance said. “Get them spread out by each of the lights, so we can change things out in a hurry.”

  “I’m on it.” Adam went back to the SUV and helped with the unloading.

  Colt cracked his knuckles. “Let’s get a move on so we aren’t pinched for time getting back before nightfall.”

  “We’re just doing a surveillance run?” Lance asked. “Nothing else?”

  “That’s it.”

  Lance looked at the tents one more time. He spotted Cass standing beside Eifort, talking to a young woman with a small baby bump poking against a soiled t-shirt. She saw Lance and waved.