by Ben Brown
His mind then turned to the heathens who had taken his most precious of treasures, and his sense of satisfaction evaporated in an instant. Now a sense of rage and injustice started to seep into every fiber of his being. How dare the godless of the outside world invade the sanctity of his camp. How dare they take that which is not theirs to take. God spoke through him and The Lord told him to punish those who defied his will. The women defied him daily, so he would punish them, as would he punish those who had taken them.
The women, it always came down to the God damned women! It was indeed true that God had cursed every member of the gentler sex. Ever since Eve took a bite of the forbidden fruit, God had cursed them for their sins. He punished them each month with bleeding loins and cramping stomachs. However, Jacob knew that the Devil tried to protect women, and by doing so, turn them to his dark and evil ways.
The Devil made their breasts large and their hips inviting. Worst of all, the Devil had given women a fruit every bit as sweet as that of Eden’s. He himself found the sweetness of their loins too hard to resist. He punished himself for his failings by destroying the offspring his weaknesses had created. This was why God had created the Lingering, to punish those whom deserved to be punished. The undead were the tools by which God would bring on the End of Days, and he, Jacob Maxwell, was yet another of The Lord’s tools.
He turned and looked at the pens holding his Hunters, and smiled. The pens held eighteen of the creatures, but he would only need fifteen of them for his hunt. The remaining three were the Hunters for his two daughters, Tilly and Alice, but he had his son, Junior, taking care of them. The final Hunter belonged to Jane, his niece, but she had died in child birth two weeks earlier, so her Hunter would be of no use. He then made a mental note to return Jane’s Hunter back into the general population of Lingerers back at the camp.
Junior, he thought, why haven’t I heard back from him? It’s been days since he went out looking for those two ungrateful whores. He should’ve been back with the child by now. He then wondered if the heathens who had taken the women might have something to do with his son’s late return. He shook his head. Junior was far too clever to be caught by such people as mere raiders. No, more than likely the two he chased were just playing hard to catch.
Mind, it was a pity Junior would miss the hunt. His son did so enjoy watching those who ran being ripped to bits. It was a pleasure that he too enjoyed. The thrill of the hunt, and the subsequent kill, always managed to exhilarate all concerned … well, not quite all. He felt sure the women were not exhilarated by their imminent deaths. A smile traced his lips as he pictured his daughter, Izzy, being disemboweled.
Feeling satisfied with himself, Jacob looked up at the sky and guessed he still had around three hours until noon. He smiled an almost toothless grin through his thick, gray beard, and drew strength from the thought of unleashing his Hunters on his disgusting women folk. He shook his head and reflected on the disappointment his whores had brought him. Of course, he knew they would need to find new women with which to breed, but he could see no real difficulties in finding replacements for those soon to die. He and the rest of his men would simply do to others, what others had done to them. They would simply raid camps and take the women they needed, and all in the knowledge they had God’s blessing.
Jacob left his caged Hunters, and casually strolled back toward his waiting men. He opened his arms in a wide and welcoming gesture as he entered the clearing a few hundred yards from his bloodthirsty monsters.
“Brothers, sons … friends,” he said as he smiled and looked at each of the heavily armed men individually. “Soon we will rain our vengeance upon those who have done nothing but shown us contempt. The whores and harlots shunned our teaching words and gestures, for this, they are about to pay. Soon the daughters of Jezebel, the thorns in our sides, shall meet with their Hunters and they will truly feel the wrath of God. For they are the forsaken, and as such, it is our duty to rid the world of ‘em!”
The assembled men began to mumble their agreement, and a few started to wave their guns above their heads. Many of the filth covered gathering resembled Jacob in both build and looks. Near all were his kin, but those that were not, were still treated like blood. Whether Maxwell blood ran through the men’s veins really did not matter to Jacob. What mattered to him was that they would blindly follow his every command.
“Now, we must offer up prayers to The Lord. Bow your heads.” Jacob waited until every last man’s head was bowed, and then he began his prayer. “Lord, guide our Hunters toward their prey so that they might deliver your justice. Guide our hands and our eyes so that our shots are true. Lord, watch over us—your righteous and true followers—and help us smite those who ya wish smitten. We are your servants, and we love ya, Lord, but we are but men among heathens and the fallen. We are weak, but we take strength knowing we do your bidding. Lord, we will never stray from the path ya have seen fit to show me. We are yours, now and always. Amen.”
The gathered men let out a low, almost guttural singular word. “Amen.”
Slowly, the group began to move toward the Hunters’ pens, and a young, lean and clean faced man moved toward Jacob.
“Pa Maxwell,” the man said as he drew to his leader’s side.
Jacob looked the man in the eye and beamed his most beguiling—all be it an almost toothless—smile. “Ah, Matt, did ya enjoy our prayer?”
Matthew Maxwell, Jacob’s youngest nephew, nodded and then cleared his throat. “Pa Maxwell, do we really need to send the Hunters out after the women? Couldn’t we just try and round ‘em up ourselves?”
Jacob noticed that a number of the men leaving the clearing had stopped to listen to their exchange.
“Yer just like your father … far too forgiving. No, the women allowed themselves to be taken, and therefore they are as guilty as the raiders for their crimes.”
As if looking for encouragement, Matt looked toward the dozen or so men who had stopped to listen. He straightened, and looked back at Jacob.
“Well, a few of us don’t see it quite like that. We reckon the women are our kin, so we should rescue ‘em from the raiders, not kill them.”
Jacob exaggerated a nod, and said, “So that’s what some of you think … interesting. Don’t it matter to ya that God has told me different.”
Matt began to move nervously on the spot. “Er … well….”
Jacob placed one of his beefy hands on the younger man’s shoulder. “I know your sister is one of the women we hunt, but she is a sinner, and deserves to die.”
“Well … I’m not sure….”
“Ya don’t have to be sure, because I am,” Jacob said as he led Mathew toward the Hunters’ pens. “I’m sure because I hear the voice of God. Mathew does God speak to ya?”
Matt looked over his shoulder and saw the small group of men who had been listening to the exchange. They were now following them to the pens, but they still seemed to be listening. He looked back to his uncle. “Well … well no, but….”
“I didn’t think so. So what gives ya the right to question the voice of God?”
“Pa Maxwell, I’m not trying to….”
“Oh but ya are. Every time ya question me, ya question God, and that’s a mortal sin.”
The two now stood before the pen that housed the Hunter for Jane, Jacob’s dead niece and one of Matthew’s dead sisters. “This creature was kept in case your poor sister Jane ever decided to run. She’s with Satan now, so this here creature is no longer needed as a Hunter. He looks mighty hungry, don’t he.” Matt tried to pull away, but Jacob’s grip on him tightened. He pulled his nephew closer and then whispered in his ear. “But he ain’t going to be hungry for long.”
In one quick move—a move that surely should have been too quick for someone so old and fat—Jacob pulled his knife and plunged it into his nephews gut. As Matthew screamed with pain, Jacob hauled his thrashing nephew above his head, and then threw him into the pen with the Hunter. Now the growls and howls
of the Hunter joined Matthew’s screams, but soon all that could be heard was the sound of ripping flesh and the slurping down of warm intestines.
Jacob turned and eyed the men watching him. “Do any more of ya question my authority, or the fact that I speak for God!”
No one moved, or spoke. Jacob stood staring at them a few moments longer, and then started walking off.
“Good, now begin the preparations for the hunt. We release the Hunters at midday, and I don’t want their release hindered because some fool forgot to do their job.”
A smile lit his face as Jacob moved back into the clearing where he had just held his impromptu service. Matthew had always been weak, and feeding him to the undead seemed a fit ending for someone such as he.
Chapter 14
Callum and La Roux sat back and watched as the women ate. It had taken almost twenty minutes to move the group out of the cave, and then another hour and a half to prepare and cook all the meat. Time that both Rangers knew they could ill afford, but time they both knew they had no choice but to spare.
All the women looked as if they had not eaten in days, and all tore into the meat like halved starved animals. In spite of both La Roux’s and Callum’s hunger, they just could not find it within themselves to take any of the food. Depriving even one of them of just a mouthful would feel like they had assaulted the women themselves. Besides, all Rangers were well used to coping with discomforts like hunger. A few days without food was nothing to what either Callum or La Roux could endure.
Callum’s gaze turned to the eight pregnant women sat at the center of the group. The others fussed around them and made sure they got more than their fair share of the food. He could tell the ragtag group was held together by both love and loyalty, which was something he understood well. While love had deserted him at a very young age, loyalty was still one of the biggest driving factors in his life. He would rather die than let down La Roux or any other of his Ranger kin. He saw the same determination in the eyes of the women now doting over their pregnant companions. It was true that they all looked scared, but through the fear he could still see strength.
These women had gone through more trials of torture than anyone he had ever encountered before, and yet they still managed to show each other compassion. How could they do that? How could such damaged individuals still remain so human, so loving? The part of him that could show compassion still worked, but only barely. The only reason he did the things he did was out of a deep seated sense of right and wrong. Rarely did he ever feel pity or compassion for those he saved or punished.
He did what he did because it was his job, and it had to be done. Yet, on watching how these poor beaten souls treated each other, he could finally sense what compassion was. It was putting others before one’s self, which was something he had done for many years. Had he shown compassion without knowing it? Maybe, but what mattered now was making sure these poor unfortunates did not die a hideous death, and that meant stopping the Hunters that would soon be heading their way.
Callum winced as the pounding in his wrist grew momentarily intense, but his strong will soon pulled the pain back into line. A new burning sensation had joined the throb, and he knew all too well what this meant. His sudden discomfort reminded him of how unlikely it was that he would survive the next few hours.
Rangers’ lives were dangerous ones, even when they were at the peak of their physical fitness. Even the slightest injury normally resulted in death, either through infection or the inability to fight. His injury took things to a whole new level. He was missing a hand, which meant reloading his weapons quickly was out of the question. Also, hand-to-hand combat had just increased in difficulty by an immeasurable amount. On top of all this, the burning in his wrist told him the start of an infection was rearing its head. No, he felt sure that he would soon be dead, but this knowledge would not turn him from his duty.
He sighed and forced all his concerns out of his head. Whatever would be, would be and no amount of worrying would change things one iota. He would simply do what he always did, and fight until one of two things happened. Either he would survive, or he would die. As long as he kept fighting until the very end, either would be fine by him.
“Hey.”
Callum turned to see La Roux looking at him.
“I think we should check our gear and talk about how the heck we’re going to stop those things that are heading our way,” La Roux said as he got to his feet with a groan. “I’ll get all the stuff from the cave and then I’ll meet ya over at the edge of the clearing. I think we should keep this talk to ourselves. After all, there’s no need for the women to hear us talking about the Hunters, it’ll only upset ‘em.”
Callum watched as La Roux headed back to the cave and then forced his massive frame through its tiny opening. He looked back at the women and saw Izzy staring back at him. He got the feeling that she wanted in on their plans, and as far as he was concerned, she would be more than welcome to join them. He felt she was more than capable of looking after herself, but he thought La Roux would be harder to convince. La Roux saw all the women as his wards, and as such, Callum knew the big Cajun would want them all kept well out of harm’s way.
Callum gestured for her to come over, which she duly did.
“What’s Pierre doing?”
Callum smiled. La Roux hated people using his first name, but for some reason he allowed Izzy to use it. Did the big lug sport somewhat of a flame for Izzy?
“He’s getting our gear. We’re heading out soon, and I get the feeling ya want in on what we’re going to do.”
Izzy placed her hands on her hips and nodded vehemently. “Damn right I do! Ya ain’t in no shape to fight, so ya need all the help ya can get.”
“Calm down,” Callum replied placatingly. “It ain’t me we need to convince. Can ya shoot?”
“Course I can.”
“Well, that’s something in our favor. I think ya should come with us, but I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Izzy laughed. “I ain’t been safe since I came of age. I want the chance to help end all this, and I’ll do what it takes to make it happen.”
“Good enough for me. Now help me up.”
Callum offered her his hand and she pulled him to his feet.
“Izzy, what are you doing here?”
Callum turned and saw La Roux heading his way with a backpack in either hand. The Cajun looked both confused and angry. Callum went to speak in her defense, but Izzy beat him to the punch.
“I’m here for the same reason you and Callum are. I want to stop the Hunters from reaching my kin, but more importantly, I want to bring down my Pa.”
“Fighting undead ain’t no place for a woman!”
Callum took a step back as Izzy’s face turned red with anger and indignation. For the first time in a long time, Callum felt sure his friend was about to lose a fight.
“Really, a woman can’t fight every bit as good as a man! Is that what ya think! Cos if it is, you and me are about to butt heads!”
La Roux dropped the packs and held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “Now that ain’t what I meant and ya know it.”
“It sounded like that to me,” Callum interjected as he took another step back.
La Roux shot his friend an annoyed glare, then looked back to Izzy. “What I meant was ya are in almost as bad a shape as that idiot over there. Yer not up to it.”
“Isn’t that my decision to make? Besides, I’m going to stick close to Callum….”
“You are … why?” Callum asked as he stepped closer again.
“Yer missing a hand ya great lummox, and your injury has hardly had but a moment to heal. You need me cos without me ya won’t be able to reload your weapons. I can do two things to help. I can reload your guns and I can watch your back.”
“That does make sense,” La Roux said as his hand went to his shaggy beard. “Can ya shoot?”
Izzy’s tempered had abated some, but La Roux’s question inflamed it ag
ain. “What is it with you two! Of course I can goddamn shoot!”
“La Roux raised his hands again. “Alright, alright … I was only asking.”
“Well the two of ya need to stop asking stupid questions, and start asking smart ones instead: like how are we going to stop the Hunters. There’s only a few hours left ‘til Pa releases ‘em.”
“Again, she has a point,” Callum said as he moved to La Roux’s side and crouched to examine his gear. “We need to think about how we’re going to head those things off.”
“Well, they’ll only be fifteen Hunters, so if we position ourselves well, we should be able to cut ‘em down in a hail of crossfire,” La Roux said as he too bent to check his gear. “Once they catch their prey’s scent, Lingerers always move in a straight line, so their approach will be easy to predict. I say we find a spot on the most direct route, and just wait for ‘em to come to us.”
“I agree, but we’ll need to make the ambush point a fair distance from here.”
“Why?” Izzy asked as she listened to the Rangers’ exchange. “Why not just set up the ambush here?”
Callum stood and said, “If any of the Hunters break through our line, then we’ll need time to run ‘em down. If they’re too close to here, then all the fighting will be too near the people we’re trying to protect.”
La Roux stood too and added his agreement. “Also, your pa and his men won’t be far behind. Hopefully they still don’t know about this cave, so if all else fails, we can try and steer ‘em away from here.”
Izzy nodded thoughtfully. “Well, there’s a small hollow about three miles from here. It’s directly in the path of the Hunters, so it could be a good place to setup your ambush.”
“Sounds good. Go tell the others that once they’re done eating, they have to move back inside the cave. Tell ‘em to block the entrance with rocks and whatever else they can find. No one but us is allowed in.” He bent and picked up his rifle, he then threw it to her. “Give ‘em this, and tell them to blow the head off any one else but us. There’s more ammo in my pack, take that too.”
