Hungry Series: Tomes 1 & 2

by Tide, Lawrence Herbert

  "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 ground. 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.

  The handle was again agitated, but the door did not open. Red sighed, as she was remembering only now that she had locked all the doors! Fear and stress had, decidedly, a bad effect on her teen mind.

  Finally, after many more seconds during which the handle of the right aft door was agitated more violently than ever, it was released. She heard more growls, and even two roars, coming, seemingly, from two different creatures. It was as if two of the zombies were fighting against each other, so that they would know the consumer of their prey.

  Prey?

  That's when she heard a loud noise behind her and, looking back, she saw with fright the sliding door open on the side of the van!

  She leapt out of the passenger's seat and stopped in front of the open door, which revealed a nightmarish scene...

  There was a silhouette standing in the entrance of the vehicle, plunged in the dark, and Red saw many dots around the surprising figure.

  The latter took, slowly, one step at a time, and entered partly inside the vehicle, standing in front of her, illuminated by the headlights, which was coming through the windscreen. The teen opened her eyes wide.

  Hiroto was standing in front of her, panting while he leaned, with a hand to the frame of the sliding door open. He looked at the metallic floor, his head heavy. The teen heard a sound of water droplets falling on metal. Lowering her gaze, she saw that there was a bleeding wound at the level of one of his shoulders. Droplets of blood were slowly, but surely, falling on the floor of the vehicle, where a small reddish pond was beginning to build up. She looked at it, aghast, and felt frozen by fear, when she heard the sound of the dripping blood covered by a growling.

  Two of the nearest red dots, behind him, quickly became the eyes of a horrible skull-like face, flanked by two similar creatures, which approached him from behind. The undead slowly turned their heads, looking alternately to the left and the right. They obviously were attracted at the same time by the young girl and by the old man, and, motionless now, seemed to hesitate.

  Hiroto whined, stepping back and, once outside, knelt on the ground. In front of the open entrance of the van, he closed his eyes, traces of pain visible on his face.

  Before Red could move, the living dead, the group of creatures, excited by the smell of blood, pounced on the wounded old man.

  ***

  Reflex

  The suffering, kneeling man stood up instantly, jumping from his kneeling position while grabbing swiftly the hilt of his sword. Red hardly noticed him twirling with the saber in his hand, very brief metallic reflections of the dim light on the blade bet
raying the fact that it had been pulled out.

  The old Japanese fell briskly on his knees on the soft but dirty ground, his sword neatly tucked in his scabbard, on the side of his waist, his head leaning forward and looking at a muddy little pond of blood. The horrible creatures around continued on their impetus to plunge on him. The nearest fell on him from behind, its head separating from its body. It fell like an ugly ball and splattered in the mud, between Hiroto's knees. The two other zombies, on his left and right sides, both fell in two pieces, their torsos falling at first, cut diagonally at their upper parts.

  No longer controlled by the head, the two oddly cut torsos stopped walking and stood, slightly capsizing.

  Finally they fell on the dirty ground while the third corpse, which had been more neatly beheaded by the old Japanese, fell against his back, its severed cervical vertebrae hanging over his head. The body began to tremble, its arms and hands shaking, giving the impression they were wanting to grab the man. The latter stood up and elbowed back, his elbow sinking into the exposed ribs. Because of the violence of the blow the corpse fell behind him in the mud, dark blood gushing out of its truncated cervical vertebrae.

  All this took place in only a fraction of a second, almost too fast to be seen by the human eye. Red was amazed, despite her knowing him very well.

  "Grandpa!" Red exclaimed, and she then jumped out of the van, crouching near the old man to help him, as he was making a lot of effort to get up from his kneeling position.

  "My God, you're wounded!" yelled the teen as she saw, in horror, blood flowing even more freely from her grandfather's shoulder. The violence of his movements while slicing through the creatures haven’t improved the state of his wound, on the contrary, the girl told herself.

  "Yes," Hiroto answered, his face weakened, her help being welcomed. "I've been shot."

  "Shot? But, by who?" Red yelled, goggling at him while she helped him climb inside the vehicle.

  "Vlad... He... he... treason," and, as he had just murmured that while the teen was closing the door, he failed.

  Looking back at him she saw him fall on his side, on the metallic floor of the van, one of his temples of hitting the cold, hard surface.

  "Hiroto, no!" cried the teen, having been unable to react quickly enough to soften his fall.

  She knelt near him and lifted his wrinkled face to find he had a small bleed at his temple.

  She walked on one of the big back seats and unfolded it, transforming it into a hide-a-bed. At least this old van given to the group was very practical, despite it being very comfortable.

  She returned to the old Japanese and, satisfied that he was a small and light man, she was able, with not too much effort, to lay him on the sleeper.

  Something touched the back of her hand, startling her, and looking down, she realized that it was her grandfather's right hand. He sighed and, closing the fingers of his trembling hand, he slowly pressed hers in his. She felt worried. It seemed so light, so weak... not the usual iron fist she was used to.

  "Red..." She was surprised by his voice, which was now blunt.

  "Yes?" She knelt closer, because his voice was becoming very weak.

  "Red, in Japan, you know, a child has complete freedom until his seventh birthday." He stopped speaking, taking some time to catch his breath. The girl asked, frowning slightly, "Why do you say that to me?"

  "You’ve known so many horrors, and so young!"

  The red haired girl smiled at him and said, "Yes, I've been living through a nightmare, even before the death of my parents, in fact, as far as I can remember. Always hiding, always feeling fear, from time to time." She hesitated, seeing the now attentive, compassionate face of the old man who was watching her, and she continued, "But you and Mei, you gave me a lot of love... and you accepted me inside your family, to the point where you accepted to initiate me, teaching me your very descendants' fighting secrets. I was really honored!"

  He smiled at her, not in the usual, timid way to which she was accustomed, but with a warm, full, heartfelt smile. He murmured, with difficulty, "I'm so happy that our most recent past has been so mutually satisfying," and as he stopped speaking, his smile faded away. He slowly closed his eyes, seemingly beginning to fail. Red suddenly felt fear, fear of losing, once more, a loved one. She yelled, shaking him, "No, please, stay awake, stay with me!"

  He reopened his eyes, seemingly unable to maintain his attention on anything.

  Then the ginger girl felt reassured when she recognized his usual sparkling eyes riveting on her.

  Swallowing hard, he said, "Red, we must find some help at the Community, Johnny and Bo have been taken prisoner by Vlad and his henchmen!"

  "Vlad? His henchmen? The bloody…"

  Hiroto abruptly set up, looking decided to stand up.

  Suddenly, he closed his eyes and lay heavily back.

  "Hiroto!" the teen yelled, as she saw even more blood pour from the wound at his shoulder. She shook him as much as she could, but he did not move. She used all the knowledge in first aid that he had taught to her and to the other students of the dojo: cardiac massage, mouth to mouth breathing, but all was in vain.

  He remained unconscious.

  Blood was dripping even more freely from his wound, becoming more impressive every second. She took the entire bandage she could find and put it on the wound, fighting to stop the bleeding.

  Finally, after many minutes, she saw with relief the bleeding stop. But something else worried her: Hiroto seemed to be so pale... It was clear that he had lost too much blood. Red decided to do what her Sensei had always encouraged his students to do.

  She took a thin tube for intravenous infusion and, quickly, placed the needles on each side of the tube in her arm and in her grandfather's. She was careful, while sitting near him, to have her arm over Hiroto's, so that blood flowed by gravity toward his arm.

  Many minutes passed by while she waited, the dark liquid coming from her veins, visible source of life inside the translucent pipe, flowing toward the old man, saving, she hoped, his life.

  She saw with satisfaction her grandfather getting back his color.

  But at the same time, she started to feel strange, dizzy...

  And she heard growls just outside...

  They were very near. Looking down at the metallic floor where blood had accumulated, under the improvised bed and her own dangling legs, she smelled its odor... and she knew that the creatures outside smelled it too!

  Scratches made her shiver. She realized that they had come from the closed sliding door.

  Thank God, I slid the door shut...

  That's when doubt, a terrible doubt, seized her, as she was feeling her head spinning now...

  I slid the door... but when being surprised by Hiroto's failing and fall, did I lock it?

  The answer startled her when the door slid briskly wide open, and three zombies leapt inside toward them both, while opening gaping, roaring mouths.

  ***

  Rescue

  Red saw death hasten toward her as the creatures threw bony hands with jagged fingers toward her.

  The claw-like tips of their fingers stopped millimeters away from her blurry eyes, as a silhouette appeared in her field of view. Her heart beating, she was waiting, weak and defenseless, for the merciful end of her short life. She told herself that, at least, it would be the end of all her worries.

  As seconds passed by, she was astonished to see that her green eyes weren’t torn into shreds, and no jaws plunged with delight into her jugular.

  Her view adapted as she heard the creatures roaring in front of her, and then she realized that they were immobilized by the silhouette behind them, a huge one, that she finally recognized.

  It was Harry who, his big arms coiled around the zombies, was crushing the three of them together in front of him. Backs to him and still facing her, they uselessly extended their arms toward her, unable to grab her, carried as Harry walked back with them.

  Their roars and growls cha
nged, going to the treble side, becoming now screams of anger and frustration, as the black giant turned around with them. Doing that, he had increased even more their pulling away from their prey. He approached the opened door with his frightening upload.

  As the living dead were becoming slowly conscious about who was standing in their way, they began to try to free themselves, now screeching like furious birds of prey.

  A new zombie appeared in the open entrance and roared loudly, as it opened a gaping mouth while looking at Harry with appetite.

  The roar ceased instantly when it received its three counterparts in its head.

  The group fell back outside in the dust, broken into parts, which mixed together in a mess of bones and rotten flesh.

  Harry slid shut the door and locked it, shouting, "Adios!"

  The good colored giant turned around as new roars and howls were heard, and he smiled at her, showing his white teeth.

  She smiled back… just before she saw his smile fade.

  She saw the ceiling and the interior of the van turn around her, as she vaguely realized that she was falling head-first toward the metallic floor.

  She saw its harsh surface leap toward her and invade quickly her field of view.

  The floor stopped just a few inches from her nose, making her squint slightly.

  She then heard the warm voice of Harry, strangely resonating in her head, "Red, are you OK?" She felt as if she was floating over the floor, hardly feeling her body. She realized that she was manipulated, like a puppet between a child's hands. Her field of view changed, the floor disappearing, as she understood that she was seated onto one of the back seats, the good giant watching her with a worried face.

  "Red?" his voice resonated even more in her head and she fell into oblivion.

  ***

  Johnny and Bo were astonished by the little game of the two hit men they were watching.