“Just south of Wenatchee. Lahar flows shouldn’t reach that far, but it’s still unnerving.”
“How many people are they expecting to find?” I asked.
“Reports were just two adults seen. No number is too small; we aim to bring everyone in that we can. Name’s Captain Harris, by the way.”
“Captain, nice to meet you. Gus.” I watched as Gus and the pilot shook hands. I could feel Gus’ worry easing.
“This is my wife, Zoe, and our daughter Hope,” he added.
Hoot stood and offered his hand. “Just call me Hoot.”
Captain Harris winked at me as he shook my friend’s hand. I looked away, not yet ready to trust the stranger.
“Stay alert. The dead are always nearby,” said Harris. “Ma’am, I suggest you and the little one stay strapped into your seats in the event we have to take off suddenly.”
Gus looked at me. “Want me to sit with her instead?”
“Yeah. I could use a quick stretch.”
The truth was I felt a need to demonstrate that I wasn’t some weak woman. I was, at one time, but that girl was long gone now. Gus knew me intimately through our bond, and I appreciated him offering to sit with our daughter.
Stay with her, Gus. I don’t trust these people.
He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll never leave her,” he whispered. “Stay alert out there.”
I will.
Hope looked at me as I stood and set her on Gus’ lap. I slid down from the chopper and my feet met the old crumbling asphalt of the highway. The air was hazy from the ash that was slowly moving our direction. It smelled of earth that had been dried in the sun for too many days, stinging my nose.
I walked toward the nearest abandoned vehicle, needing a few moments to myself. The ground was uneven and the asphalt badly cracked and dotted with weeds. I focused my mind, always ‘looking’ for nearby dead. Sensing nothing, I walked the last few yards to a blue Porsche that had spun out long ago and sat unmoving, partially overtaken by grass and vines. Something didn’t feel right. I couldn’t pinpoint the cause at first, so proceeded with caution. I walked at first to the front of the car, occasionally scanning the horizon. The paint on the car was chipped and faded in places, one headlight was broken, and the tires were all flat. A box half-full of old groceries was nestled conveniently in the back seat. The canned food and a bag of chips held my attention for too long;
I almost missed the movement in the distance. It had waited for me to become distracted. I was sure of that. Somehow it had hidden itself from my mind.
Gus.
I waited for him to fill my head, hoping for some sort of reassurance. Instead, I heard shooting in the distance. I kept my eyes on the tree line. It knew I was aware of its presence. It filled my head, no longer masking itself. It was pure evil, looking to take me and my daughter. The only other time I had felt a similar signature was when the bloated eater of the dead came after Gus.
I could sense Gus in my mind, but it was overshadowed by the Hunter that was now walking my way. The creature making its way toward me appeared to be alone, and was much smaller than I had expected. It could have been a child, a dwarf, or just a very short person. It was so bloated that it was impossible to determine anything specific, like gender or age at time of death. Skin was stretched taut and translucent blue-green. As it got closer, I could see sloshing fluid beneath that awkward outer layer as the creature swayed. A breeze blew toward me, carrying with it the nauseatingly potent stench of decay mixed with rotten candy.
Gus, don’t leave Hope. It was the only sensible thing I could say within my mind. It wanted both of us, and Gus had to keep our daughter safe. The only weapon I had was a hunting knife. My handgun had been lost on the mountain when I tried to remove Hope from Laura’s arms.
I backed up on the road, keeping the vehicle between me and the Hunter. I could sense more of the dead now, from all directions. I could hear Gus in my head as a muddled swirl of indecision. There was little I could do, so I dropped to the ground and rolled under the vehicle. My elbows skinned on loose chunks of grit and gravel and one of my knees hit the undercarriage, sending a sharp pain jolting up my thigh. More gunfire rang out, I thought from Dayton’s direction.
Gus! Get Hope out of here! My mind screamed as the Hunter’s footfalls landed near my head. Its feet were covered in rotten flesh with strings of slime trailing behind. I could see foot bones as if I were staring at some macabre Halloween decoration. The transparent foot ‘blob’ lifted from the asphalt with a slopping sound and hands similar in texture and appearance grabbed onto the bottom edge of the car. The creature emitted a horrifying growl as it began to lift the automobile, determined to get to me. I knew instinctively that if I didn’t fight, I would die. I reached for the sheath I kept secured around my right leg and pulled out my knife. As soon as I had a strong grip on it, I rolled out from under the car and toward the creature. The Hunter was clearly furious, allowing the car to drop to the ground. I stood and ran at the hideous creature, stabbing at it with full force. Intending to plant my knife into its head, the creature twisted at the last second and took my blade in its shoulder. I held onto the hilt of the knife as hard as I could, refusing to let go. The Hunter was far stronger than me, resulting in my left shoulder being pulled painfully; as it popped, my grip on the knife failed and I landed hard on my right side. I refused to cry out and did my best to roll away from the creature but met resistance when my head collided with the wrecked car. The Hunter, severely agitated, loomed over me. I could hear sloshing coming from within the beast. I was out of options, without a weapon, and without room to move. If I was going to die, I’d do as much damage as I could. I kicked upward, landing my boot as close to what should be the creature’s crotch as I could figure. It remained above me, motionless. Cold fluid ran over me. I had popped it. I had actually fucking popped the bastard. I watched as the creature, almost in slow motion, deflated. Chunks fell on top of me. Some were thick liquid, some solid, some had hair, and it all smelled absolutely putrid. The Hunter stood there as its pelvic bone dropped from it and onto my foot. It was followed by a section of its spine. It was easy to see now why the creature had appeared so short; its bones had collapsed in upon themselves. Finally, the softer innards evacuated themselves from the opening my foot had created. It had turned inside out, at least partly. It lay there quivering, unable to lift its appendages. I stood, nursing my left arm, and used my boot to deliver a death blow to its head. My breath caught in my chest when one of the clumps that lay at my feet was clearly part of a small face with a section of pale white hair, now filthy. My thoughts instantly went to Hope, and I forced them out of my head.
The blades of the chopper began to spin in the distance. I looked toward it and saw someone running toward me. They were yelling, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Hoot. It was Hoot running toward me. He was waving his arms, and instinctively I looked behind me. Roamers. So many of them. I grabbed onto my injured arm to stabilize it, and began running toward Hoot and the helicopter. The Roamers were slow and far enough away that they seemed harmless. I sensed more at play, though, and had since before the Hunter attacked me. Gus must have picked up on my concern and sent Hoot to help me. He would have stayed with Hope; of that I was certain. Gunfire rang out again, near the helicopter. I looked and saw the team had returned and were loading people onto the chopper. Two of the team of three were busy shooting at a variety of dead that were creeping out of the tree line nearest to them while the third assisted the other survivors aboard. A thunderous explosion rang out and my feet met the pavement in wobbly steps. I looked to my side in horror as a mushroom-like pillar of gray rose in the sky above Mt. Rainier.
Hoot was knocked off balance to his knees and I struggled to remain upright. The ground continued to rumble and the resulting thunderous noise was heart stopping. There was no mistaking it; Mt. Rainier was erupting. The pyroclastic flow was mesmerizing, but I knew Hoot and I had to get back to the chopper
. I looked back in his direction and saw him standing again. He motioned me forward, and I ran like hell. I was only a yard away when the shock wave of the eruption hit us. I landed face down, the wind knocked out of me. Hoot screamed for me to get up and run. I used my forearms to push up off the asphalt, but dropped again when my injured shoulder gave out. Doing my best to ignore the pain wasn’t working, so I got angry and used it in my favor. My next attempt brought me to my feet. The volcanic eruption was occurring to my right and a hot wind blew against me. Hoot faced the helicopter, but waited for me. His arm stretched back toward me, offering me his hand. By the time I reached him, the helicopter was lifting off. Anger boiled from within Gus and I could feel despair from Hope.
Hoot and I continued to run hoping it would hover long enough for us to make critical contact. The sky was darkening as hot ash and earth blocked the sun’s rays. Bolts of lightning flashed from within the eruption. The noise from the helicopter was muted by the sounds of the earth revolting, but with each flash of lightning I could see that we were closer to our target. The chopper finally hovered above us and someone waved us back. I stepped back, pulling Hoot with me. The chopper lowered enough for us to climb onto a skid, where one of the crew helped us into the body of the bird.
“Go! Go! Go!” I heard a woman yelling.
Gus slid his arms under my own and pulled me in, away from the open side of the helicopter. The machine lurched as Harris fought to take off, the thermals from the eruption causing extreme turbulence. Between the storm around us and the rotors of the chopper it was impossible to hear anything. I could feel Hope in my head. She was scared and confused. She didn’t know the person who was holding her, but it was the commotion that had her the most worried. Gus wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I clung to him and clenched my eyes shut. The lurching of the flight made me queasy, as did the smell I had acquired when Hunter innards fell all over me.
CHAPTER 5
The chopper set down in a field next to the Colombia River. A circular area had been cleared and covered in gravel, a large “H” spray painted in white. Harris, the pilot, shut the machine down and we waited for the blades to stop spinning before speaking to us.
“There’ll be time for proper introductions later. Right now we need to stay quiet and make our way to the river. We’ll make our way to the base by boat.”
“Why can’t we just fly there?” asked a man I hadn’t yet met, another survivor.
“Can’t risk the dead following the chopper there,” answered Dayton.
“How far is this base?” asked Gus, who was still holding me with one arm. He quietly slipped his pistol to me.
Hope was asleep on the woman’s lap. She was older than me, closer to Gus in age, and had stunning Asian features. The woman was stroking our daughter’s fair hair. She smiled weakly at me, and I instantly trusted her – something rare for me.
“It’ll take about half an hour, assuming the trip goes smoothly,” added Captain Harris.
“Stay close. Once we get to the boat we’ll need to uncover it, board, and push off quickly.”
“Let’s go. The chopper always attracts the dead and they’ll be close behind,” said Harris.
“I need to stabilize Zoe’s shoulder,” said Gus as the others began preparing to exit the helicopter. “I think it might be dislocated”.
“No, I’ll be okay for now.” I looked at Gus and he nodded. “The dead are near,” I added.
“Okay. I want you to keep ahold of it with your right hand to support it though,” he said
“I’ll take Hope,” offered Hoot.
“Is that her name?” asked the woman who held our daughter.
“It is,” said Gus.
“I’m Autumn. This is my brother, Casper.”
The man with her had been so quiet, I had all but overlooked him. He looked roughly the same age as his sister, but had a streak of gray in his long hair, which was pulled back into a man-bun. He looked up suddenly. He was muscular and his face was angular. He was clearly terrified. I knew what horrors they must have faced.
“Just call me Cas,” he said in a deep voice.
“People, introductions later,” said Harris. “Dead are in our sights.”
“Let’s go,” said Hoot.
“Dayton, take the lead,” ordered Harris.
We spilled out of the helicopter. Autumn handed Hope over to Hoot.
“Keep behind me,” said Dayton. “The boat’s just ahead about a hundred yards.”
“Hill, Adams, pull up the rear. Harris and I can get the boat uncovered,” said Dayton.
Dayton took off at a fair jog, and we all followed her lead. Running was painful, so I gripped my injured arm and forced myself forward. The ground was sloped slightly downward, the terrain rough. Signatures of the dead filled my head and came from all directions. My pulse beat loudly in my ears, eventually drowned out by the moans of the dead and Hope crying softly.
Gus passed me as the river came into view, following Dayton to the boat. Harris grabbed onto my good arm and pulled me after him, urging me onward. I knew already that the dead were close on our heels. By the time we reached the craft, the others had the tarp removed and were helping Autumn and Casper aboard. Gus took Hope from Hoot’s arms and handed her to Dayton, who was the closest person on board. Hoot was next, followed quickly by Gus. Once Harris and I reached the small craft, I grabbed onto Gus’ outstretched arm and frantically clambered aboard.
“Harris, watch out!” yelled Dayton.
I spun around to find Harris pushing us offshore. A Roamer was directly behind him. He never wavered in his duty to cast us off. He never turned to see what was behind him. He already knew; I could see it in his eyes. The creature reached him as the boat drifted just outside of his reach. Grabbing onto Harris’ legs, it knocked him down. To my horror, Gus jumped into the water. He landed poorly, losing his footing in the mud and muck.
“Gus! No!” I screamed.
More of the dead were closing in. They were so close that I could smell their stink and feel their hunger deep within my mind. The hair on my arms stood on end and Hope wailed in the background. Harris was on his back, kicking at the Roamer. His screams quickly drowned out those of my daughter. As Gus neared Harris, the Roamer became agitated. Blood mixed with the murky river water, darkening it even further. I held my breath and watched as Dayton jumped overboard and joined Gus and Harris in the struggle.
I drew pistol and took aim at the Roamer. Its jerky movements and the rocking of the boat made it difficult to aim, and the chance of hitting Gus or Dayton was too risky. Harris stopped kicking at the creature and it was clear that his left leg had been mangled just above the ankle. His camo cargo pants were ripped and shreds of flesh hung in a bloody mess. The Roamer wore a crazed expression filled with hunger and lunged at Gus. Dayton grabbed Harris under the arms and dragged him farther into the water, where a man leaned over and helped hoist the injured man aboard.
Gus was trying to hold the Roamer back, and in the process lost his footing again. I soon realized that the Roamer wasn’t trying to take Gus, but rather trying to get through him to the rest of us.
“Hill, we have to go!” yelled Adams. The roar of the boat motor coming to life seemed to confuse the Roamer. “Go!” repeated the man in a forceful voice.
Gus. They were going to leave Gus. I panicked, looked at Hoot and Hope, and did the unforgivable. I jumped over, leaving our daughter in the care of our dear friend. I could sense her fear and confusion, and instantly regretted my decision.
The water was deeper than I had anticipated, and I found myself fully submerged. Gus’ thoughts filled my mind. His presence there provided an odd sense of comfort. He was panicked, and trying to tell me that I was in danger.
The current of the river was stronger than it appeared and surfacing seemed unlikely as I was forced toward the riverbed below. Arms that were as cold as the water wrapped around me in a death grip. I couldn’t tell if they came from above or below
as I continued to be battered by the current. I knew, without hesitation, that they did not belong to my husband. A searing pain ripped through my backside, just under my waistline. I assumed it was one of the jagged rocks that littered the bottom of the river. The pain in my butt grew worse. I instinctively moved my hand to where the pain was, only to meet a handful of scalp and hair. I fought the urge to inhale, knowing that if the creature that was latched onto me didn’t kill me, water in my lungs would. Twisting, I fought to pry the jaws of the dead from my flesh. My hands slipped on its slime-coated flesh, my knuckles grazing what felt like teeth. I kicked where the rest of the body should be, but my feet met only the bottom of the river. Just as I made one final attempt to free myself, the pain in my butt grew so intense that my body finally took over in a desperate attempt for air. I inhaled a large volume of river water. There was a searing pain in my lungs and my eyes opened wide. My body retched, fighting the foreign substance that was now within my lungs. Silver sparkles filled my vision and soon black crept in from the edges. My body began to calm and my thoughts turned to the people whom I loved the most. Gus. Hope. My peripheral vision went dark, leaving only a narrow tunnel of light. Inside that light I saw one of the greatest loves of my life, Boggs. smiling at me. I smiled back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed a false sense of warmth as I lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 6
I didn’t want to wake up. It hurt to breathe and whoever was hitting me on the chest was making me want to vomit. I wanted to yell at them to stop, but couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe.
“Zoe, cough it up!” yelled Gus.
Someone forced me to roll onto my left side. Cold water flowed from my mouth and nose, and the bitterness of bile filled my throat and mouth.
“She’s alive,” said one of the men on board.
Hope was still crying.
“Hope,” I gasped between coughing fits.
“She’s fine, darlin’, just breathe.”
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