The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged

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The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged Page 18

by Brant, Jason


  Joe gagged behind them.

  Colt glared at him until he got himself under control.

  They pressed on, going deeper. The smell grew worse. More body parts came into view. Some were little more than gnawed bones glistening in their lights. Others had chunks of flesh clinging to them.

  Most rested against the wall or in piles, not blocking the main path.

  Though rudimentary, there seemed to be an organization to the layout. The bare bones were stacked together, separated from the meatier portions. Cass remembered the haphazard way the bones in the subway tunnel had been strewn about.

  This was nothing like that. There had been no leftovers down there. Here, the meat appeared to be stored, saved for later like leftovers.

  And not all of the carcasses were human. The remnants of deer and cattle were mixed in with the portions of man-flesh. The stench threatened to make Cass vomit as she moved past the piles, attempting to cover her nose with her free hand. She wanted to follow the remains with her light, to see how far into the room they stretched, but she dared not.

  If the beam from her flashlight fell across a Vladdie, they would be in deep shit.

  Colt put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. He took his pack off and quietly laid it beside the largest pile of bones, nudging a cracked skull out of the way. When he rejoined them, Cass continued.

  The sound they’d heard from outside was much louder now, the characteristics of it slightly different as they got closer.

  The wall sloped to the right. Deep gouges covered its damp surface. Cass followed it for a few dozen steps before coming to a drop off in the floor. Darkness continued where the path had been, yawning out into an open space.

  Cass stopped, her toes inches from the edge. She clicked her light off and angled it up before turning it back on. A brick ceiling was twenty feet above them, its surface slick with dripping water.

  The incessant sound was even louder here. Cass could hear distinct differences in it now, as if it came from multiple sources, all spanning out before them.

  Colt leaned close, whispered, “Toss the bags.”

  “Are you nuts? Do you want to get us all killed?”

  “I didn’t ask. Toss it. We’re near the center of the nest. I can smell ‘em.”

  Cass turned her light off again, and aimed it at the ledge beneath them. She held her breath as she clicked it back on. The wall beneath them dropped fifteen or twenty feet before running to a muddy floor.

  After slipping the pack from her shoulder, she pressed it against the wall before releasing. It tumbled down and landed in a small puddle, splashing the water away. No shrieks came.

  Cass held her hand out for Joe’s bag, and he passed it over. She did the same thing she’d done with her own, watching it land in the puddle.

  “What is this place?” Joe whispered.

  “I don’t know. Something with sewage or water runoff, if I had to guess.” Colt kept his light aimed between his feet. He looked back at Adam. “Give me your bag and come up here. I have to see what that sound is.”

  Adam handed it over. Sweat beaded on his forehead and lip. His eyes were wide, his hands shaking slightly.

  “I’m going to toss this in as far as I can. When I throw it, everyone aim your lights out into the middle of the room.” Colt grabbed both ends of the bag and pulled it behind him, his arms cocked to throw it. The axe rested on the floor by his feet. “We’ll only have a few seconds before they come for us.”

  Cass glanced at the axe, but averted her eyes quickly, hoping Colt hadn’t noticed.

  Colt reared back and threw the bag. It flew into the darkness, tumbling end over end. “Now,” he hissed.

  They flipped their lights up, casting the beams to what Cass assumed to be the middle of the room.

  She nearly fell backward at what they saw.

  The cones of light fell across the writhing bodies of hundreds of Vladdies. They sat, stood, and stretched across the floor, piled beside one another. Their mouths worked, a mewling, gutteral sound coming from them.

  Cass stared, awestruck. She’d never heard them making any sound beyond a shriek or a cry of rage. Listening to them uttering other sounds shook her to the core. She was reminded of a video she’d seen of a species of primate in Africa, gesturing at objects and making odd, lip-smacking sounds.

  The Vladdies weren’t speaking, not even close, but hearing them attempt to communicate in such a way struck a fear into her that she hadn’t experienced in weeks. They’d discussed the progression of the infected, but they’d never dared to guess at how far they’d come.

  Brown was right—their minds were rebooting. The final result of it, what would become of their primitive minds, Cass didn’t want to find out. If she had any shred of doubt that they needed to flee the compound, it was expunged in that moment.

  The Vladdies shrank away from the light, yowling in pain and surprise. They leapt to their feet, fleeing into the shadows.

  “Run!” Colt hissed.

  Cass heard the others flee back up the tunnel. Their flashlights spun wildly as they turned and ran. Cass stayed in place for a moment longer, cutting her light along the far edge of the room.

  Vladdies stood around the walls, digging feverishly at the dirt with their clawed hands. Loose earth flew out between their legs, spraying in the air behind them like they were dogs searching for bones in the backyard. The drone of the feverish work mixed with the guttural mewling, creating the sound Lance had first described hearing in Latrobe.

  They were digging the earth out, creating a new world under the old, dead one.

  The infected stopped when the light hit them, and they spun around.

  The throaty noises stopped, the digging ceased. Silence hung in the air for a split second before an explosion of shrieks echoed through the cavern. Their rage filled the burgeoning, underground city.

  Chaos erupted. The thunder of a thousand stampeding feet shook the ground as they came for her.

  Cass turned to run when a fist caught her in the temple. Cascading colors burst in her vision. She fell to her ass, the flashlight slipping from her fingers. Her head swam, dizziness keeping her limbs from operating.

  Colt smirked down at her. “You should have played along.” He spun on his heels and ran down the tunnel, his light disappearing around a bend.

  The roars of the vampires drew near. The rumble of their pursuit sent vibrations into Cass’ backside and hands.

  She pushed herself up, grabbing the light. Its beam reflected off the blade of her axe. She picked it up and staggered down the tunnel, her equilibrium still recovering. Dirt fell from one of the walls as her shoulder dragged along its surface.

  The darkness seemed to press in on her as she picked up her pace. She held her flashlight as steady as she could, trying to minimize the way it flashed around. The strobing effect made her head spin.

  Vibrations in the floor and walls grew heavier, knocking water from the ceiling in a torrent of drips, simulating rain. It plopped in her hair and soaked her shirt. Muddy filth ran down her face.

  Her feet slid as she teetered past the reeking mounds of carcasses. She gagged as she breathed in their stench. Bone and blood gleamed under the cone of her flashlight.

  Shrieks came from behind, closer and louder.

  The first bend almost brought Cass down, the slick floor making her slow so she wouldn’t fall. The axe dragged against the wall, cutting a swath in the mud.

  A wail came from ahead.

  Cass raised the flashlight as she ran, spotting the place where the tunnel had branched off. Colt’s men had gone down there. The banshee-like cry came again.

  Close.

  Too close.

  Cass threw her flashlight ahead and gripped her axe with both hands. The tunnel was narrow, limiting her range of motion. The flashlight rolled to a stop in the dirt, the beam aiming at the wall.

  Sickly gray skin flashed in the entrance of the next tunnel. An eyeless face pierced the veil of darkness
, stepping into Cass’ path.

  She swung the axe like a batter swinging at a fastball. The tips of the blade dragged along the wall, slowing the speed of her blow.

  Blood spurted from the vampire’s neck as the axe sunk into engorged muscle. The blade bit deep where the shoulder met the neck. The beast wailed and fell to the ground, flopping in the muddy earth. Arterial bursts shot against the walls as it spun wildly, its arms swiping at Cass.

  The axe was pulled from her grasp, the blade still embedded in its flesh.

  Cass dove over the beast as it reached for her.

  Its claws sliced through her shirt, inches from her stomach.

  She landed on her chest.

  Scrambled to her feet.

  She grabbed the flashlight, angling it so the beam fell across the dying vampire, and left it sitting in the dirt.

  The Vladdie gurgled behind her, its flailing bulk filling half of the tunnel.

  Cass hoped the body and bright flashlight would slow the progress of those storming after her. She ran on, rounding the final bend. The opening to the tunnel loomed ahead, light spilling inside.

  Colt’s legs disappeared through the hole.

  Adam and Joe stood at the base, looking up, shouting for Colt’s men to haul them out.

  The bedlam coming behind them rumbled closer.

  Chapter 29

  The concussion from the explosion thrummed in Brown’s ears.

  Heat baked off the burning RV in waves.

  He lifted his head and looked around at the inferno behind him. The man in the front seat burned, his skin already blackened. Flames spread to a pickup truck with a camper attached behind it. A woman climbed from the cab and slapped at the flames, patting them out with her bare hands.

  Colt’s soldier by the cabin jammed a new magazine into his rifle. As he took aim again, the top of his head snapped back. Red mist sprayed the air behind him. His face collapsed to the lawn, gray matter oozing into the grass.

  Eifort appeared in the window of the tanker, her eyes wild when she saw the destroyed RV. She shouted something at Brown, but he couldn’t hear her.

  He looked back at the tank.

  Dust enshrouded it, limiting visibility. Brown could still see the barrel jutting from the cloud, unmoving. How long would it take for the man inside to reload the cannon? How much time did they have before he fired another devastating shot?

  Emmett pushed himself to his feet and staggered sideways. His balance was shot. The heels of his hands pressed against his temples as he stumbled his way toward the tanker.

  Eifort climbed out of the passenger door and ran to him, her mouth working as she shouted something else.

  “I can’t hear you,” Brown said, his own voice muffled in his head.

  She jabbed her finger at the tank and mouthed for him to run.

  Brown shook his head. “We can’t leave the—”

  A thunderous explosion rocked the side of tank. Flames engulfed it. Two more eruptions burst under its body, shooting yellow fire through the treads.

  Emmett stared at the tank, dumbstruck. “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know!” Eifort stood beside him, watching as black smoke plumed into the sky.

  Her words penetrated the buzzing in Brown’s ears, and he thanked God that his hearing damage wasn’t permanent. His head pounded from the concussion of the tank shell exploding so near him.

  The hatch on top of the tank opened, and the driver climbed out. His shirt caught fire as he jumped from the front, and he had to roll in the grass to put the flames out.

  Eifort drew a bead on him before he’d even put himself out. She jogged toward him with the rifle butt against her shoulder. “Stay down!”

  The man rolled to his back and sat up.

  “I said stay down!”

  Brown followed her, his stride still unsure, his legs faltering. He was too old for this kind of action. The others had grown hard from clearing the forest and lugging supplies, but he spent his days mending the injured and seeing the sick. His body hadn’t acquired the condition of the others.

  The soldier lifted his hands over his head and stayed on his ass in the lawn.

  Eifort stopped in front of him, barking orders that Brown couldn’t hear. He finally caught up and stopped beside her, resting his hands on his knees. Smoke from the burning tank blew across the clearing, searing his eyes and throat.

  “What happened to the tank?” Eifort shouted down at the man.

  “I don’t know!”

  “I happened,” a voice called from the trees. “Don’t shoot me when I come out.”

  Nathaniel walked out of the forest, his long, gray hair, blowing in the breeze. A shoulder-fired rocket launcher held in front of his chest. “Are there more of them around?”

  “It’s clear,” Eifort said. She kept her rifle trained on the man in the grass. “Except for this piece of shit.”

  Nathaniel walked over to them, his eyes fixed on the soldier. “Figured you folks could use a hand.”

  “What are you doing here?” Brown asked. A slight ringing still ran through his hearing, but it was manageable.

  “Been worried about you guys for days.” He pointed at the man on the ground. “Ever since they showed up. I ran into a father and son this morning, Jim and Junior. They were armed to the teeth and walking past my place. They said they was leaving cause everything had gone to pot over here. Figured I better head over and see what I could do.”

  “And you decided to take on the tank?” Eifort asked. “Ballsy.”

  “Threw two propane tanks and a gasoline can under it, and then hit the son of a bitch with this.” He held the rocket launcher out for a second. “Got it from that Jim guy. He said he felt bad leaving yinz high and dry, but he had to protect his boy. First time I ever shot one of these. Helluva rush.” Nathaniel glanced over at Brown. “You look like hell, Doc.”

  “It’s been a rough morning.” Brown put his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Thank God you got here when you did. You just saved a lot of lives.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “Don’t mention it. You’ve helped me more than enough with me and mine. Besides, I’m just sorry I couldn’t do anything before he blew up that RV back there. Anyone inside?”

  “I saw someone burning in the front seat.” Eifort kicked the soldier in the side of the face.

  The man groaned and held his face. He curled into a protective ball, watching them through his fingers.

  “Why are you doing this?” Brown asked him.

  The soldier stayed silent.

  Eifort kicked him in the kidneys. He cried out and rolled over, hands going to his lower back. Brown, a man usually sickened by such violence, fought to keep himself from lashing out as well. He wanted to kick the man to death, to stomp him to a bloody pulp.

  “Tell me what your plan was,” Brown growled. “What are you really doing here?”

  “You’ll kill me if I tell you.” The man spit blood into the grass. His eye was already swelling from where Eifort had kicked him. His eyes darted around, finally settling on the barrel of Eifort’s rifle. “She’ll shoot me if I do.”

  “She’ll shoot you if you don’t.”

  The soldier thought about it for a moment, his gaze still fixated on the rifle. “Colt told us to keep an eye on the both of you while he was gone. He said to kill you if you tried to do anything.”

  Brown looked back at the burning wreckage of the RV. Everything he’d spent the past few weeks working toward had fallen apart. “Why does he want us dead?”

  “Swear you won’t shoot me?”

  “I won’t shoot you,” Brown said. “Now tell me what Colt’s plan was here. Why did he do this?”

  The man peered around at all of them, fear plain on his face. “He wants to control everything. We go from camp to camp, taking them over and installing our men in as the new leaders.”

  “Is that what happened in Annapolis?”

  “Yeah. When Colt killed the man leading them, th
e people came after us. We had to take most of them out just to get away. But we left a couple of men there who are putting it back together now.”

  Eifort shook her head. “But why? Why murder the few people who are still alive?”

  “He says that killing a few is better for the whole. If our people are running all the camps, then he can call the shots. He’ll control the whole east coast and can coordinate us against the Weres. You have to understand—we’re doing this for the race. We’re going extinct unless someone takes charge again.”

  Nathaniel grunted. “The more things change, right Doc? Some terrorist bastards hated our government, so they spread a plague that wiped everything out. Now, we’re fightin’ for what’s left, tryin’ to stay alive, and we still have pieces of shit like this wanting to control us. Killin’ us.”

  What remained of Brown’s hope for the remnants of humanity evaporated at that moment. He realized that he’d been fighting for a cause that was already lost. The idea of rebuilding a small society, of giving protection and food to survivors, was foolhardy. In the ashes of the old world, in the shadows of dead cities, the strongest would always lord over the weakest.

  The time of man had passed.

  Men like Colt and Ralph, the hardy and the resourceful, the insane and the angry, would always jockey for control. There were no laws, governments, or police officers to keep them in check. They would always have followers, those too meek to fight for themselves, and they would amass militias and armies.

  Had Brown been any different? He’d helped take over the compound from Ralph and Tony, had been a party to their killings. He had assumed control.

  Did his motivations matter? Did his good intentions change anything?

  The end result was the same.

  Those living there had died or were fleeing.

  The inevitable still happened.

  It had just been delayed by a few weeks.

  The soldier saw something in Brown’s eyes. He shrank back, his words coming faster. “Jones was going to run this camp. Colt promised me that the next one, some place up in Armstrong County, would be mine. And I would have treated everyone real good. I wouldn’t have—”

  “Stop.” Brown held a finger up to silence him. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain calm as he asked one final question he needed answered. “Did Colt kill our friend?”

 

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