Wanderer (Book 2): Hunters

by Lincoln, James

  “You ready for this?” I asked.

  He nodded in acceptance and then scooted across the tile floor and sat next to me.

  I caught myself wondering what these zombies did before they were infected. How many of them led simple lives, were farmers, doctors, writers, or scumbags? I also wondered if any of them prayed for this to happen to them, to end their pain. How many scavengers had we killed that led similar lives? Had we killed any that were just forced into that lifestyle? Emily was right, they were just coping with this situation different than others. Sure, there were people out there who were truly evil, and they needed to be dealt with, but there was a better way of going about handling them. It was only a matter of minutes before I would find the answer to those questions and many more.

  Some parts of the glass were completely gone now, and zombies were sticking their arms through the holes, tearing their flesh on the jagged edges, feeling no pain. Their minds were solely focused on getting in and tearing us to shreds.

  A large pane of glass broke away and fell to the tile, shattering right in front of our feet. We didn’t flinch at all. The steel wiring was still holding them back, but it was slowing pulling away from the anchored frames. Their blood thirsty moans were filling the corridor and through that came a low hum that kept getting louder and louder. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Suddenly it stopped getting louder and remained at the same volume. Whatever it was, it was close.

  I looked at California, confused. Staccato thunderous blasts filled the air. We flinched at that and returned our gaze to the horde in front of us.

  Gunfire was ripping through the zombies, tearing flesh and removing appendages. In an instant the entire horde that was in front of us was reduced to a steaming pile of rotting flesh and bones. More gunfire erupted in the distance and I could hear several, what I now recognized as vehicles, arriving at the scene.

  A loud explosion came from the blocked gate above us and I could see fire and debris rocketing forward onto the landing. I could hear shouting and then much to my amazement, dozens of troops entered through the gate.

  The soldiers moved through horde of zombies like a hot knife through butter. A single soldier followed in behind them, but this one sauntered in with bravado, it was David. He spotted us and headed in our direction. I pulled myself away from the floor to meet him. David stepped through the broken window and placed his arms on my shoulders.

  “You ok?” he asked concernedly.

  I didn’t say anything. California was now standing beside us. David reached his hand over and placed it on California’s shoulder like he did with me.

  “What about you?” he said.

  California nodded.

  David peered behind me and saw the kid. I stepped aside. He knelt down next to the kid and placed his hand on the kid’s leg. It looked like he squeezed it.

  The next thing I knew two soldiers were stepping through the window and into the corridor, their boots crunched the broken glass underneath. They were carrying a small metal stretcher. They laid it out in front of the kid and unrolled a black plastic body bag. Gently they lifted the kid up and placed him in the body bag. One of them zipped up the bag over the kid’s face with the utmost care. Together they lifted the stretcher and without saying a word were stepping back through the window.

  David looked at me while I watched the soldiers take the kid away.

  “We can’t hold this horde,” David said.

  “We need to get back to camp,” I told him.

  At this point we were only guaranteed a prison cell, or worse, if we returned, but Larson needed to be stopped.

  “And do what?” David said. “We weren’t here to rescue you; we were sent to arrest you.”

  “This is our opportunity to remove Larson,” I said.

  “How? Larson has the camp guard on his side,” California said.

  “Larson has fear on his side,” David corrected. “He is not the same man who took charge of that camp. Something in him has changed, and if we don’t act now all of those people are dead. This kid is the proof we need, that horde is the proof we need. He publicly denounced that the horde was advancing and if we can prove he was wrong their fear will turn to anger.”

  California mulled it over. I could tell he knew I was right and there was no other way.

  “We have the proof we need. If we don’t move now there may not be a camp to go back to,” David said to California.

  “Then let’s go,” California said.

  The small convoy that had come to rescue us consisted of four vehicles; two Humvees, a Jeep Wrangler, and a 4x4 pickup truck. Each one of them loaded with soldiers, eighteen in total, including David. It turns out they had in fact seen our flare, but Larson had sent them to arrest us. David volunteered in hopes of finding that I was right.

  David was driving the lead vehicle, the Jeep. We had to take a protracted route back to the camp because of the horde. It added time on to our journey and hopefully we could reach the camp before the horde did.

  I recognized some of the scenery from the journey we had taken just a few days ago. The route took us along the ridge of the mountain and from the front passenger seat I could see the valley below. What was once a busy cityscape was now mostly reclaimed by nature. It was actually green this time of year and quite beautiful. The green foliage however held a dark secret just below it. In between the canopies of the trees you could make out the flowing body of the advancing horde, like a wave making its way through a swamp.

  Its size was staggering. What we had encountered at the school was but a small sliver of the entire thing. I was beginning to doubt our capabilities in dealing with them.

  “Do we have an evacuation plan?” I said to David.

  He just stared at me. I knew there was only one option on the table; dispatch the horde or perish.

  The two sentry guards opened the gate and let the convoy through. There was a large SUV parked just inside the gate in front of us with several armed soldiers posted around it. They were waiting to take us into custody. I saw Larson approaching the SUV, he had come to personally greet us. When he saw me sitting in the front seat his expression changed from one of excitement to one of anger.

  The convoy stopped just in front of the SUV. The soldiers stationed about raised their weapons at us. I cautiously opened my door and slowly stepped out of the Jeep; I didn’t want to give the soldiers any reason to open fire on us. My hands were raised slightly to show that I wasn’t a threat. I turned my head behind me to see that California had a similar stance.

  “Why are these men not in handcuffs?” Larson demanded.

  “Because these men were right,” David answered.

  “I gave you strict orders, Lieutenant.”

  “Larson,” I yelled to bring his attention to me. “If you don’t listen to what we have to say then you are going to die. All of these people are going to die.”

  People from around the camp had begun to come out of their cabins to see what was going on at this unusual altercation at the front gate. Some had stopped their work to watch this unfold. This was perfect.

  “There is a horde of zombies headed this way and they will be here any minute,” I said. I spoke loud enough so that the crowd that was now gathering behind and around the SUV could hear me.

  Larson let out a single laugh.

  “I think your time away from here has rotted your brain,” he said. “There is no horde of zombies heading toward us.” He paused. “Have these men arrested. Now.”

  “Don’t do this,” I said, speaking to only him now.

  Larson walked directly up to me, his face almost touching mine. “This is the only way,” he said and turned to walk away. “Arrest them.”

  I was surprised to see his guards not move. Their gazes remained forward. Larson noticed this and stopped.

  “Arrest them all or you will end up in jail with them.”

  Again, they did not move. He looked at all of the soldiers not moving.


  I trained my gaze on one of the guards and saw that he was not paying attention to Larson, nor was he paying attention to us. He was looking behind us and toward the front gate. That’s when I saw the shadow move over us. I looked to the sky and saw the cloud of birds.

  Larson noticed the same thing I did and quickly turned toward where the soldier was looking. I watched the horror drift across his face. I slowly turned toward the front gate as well.

  At first all I saw were trees. The branches were slowly swaying in the wind, only there was no wind. I looked up and the sky was littered with black feathers falling to the ground. Then, almost as if they materialized from the trees the zombies flooded toward the gate.

  The two guards that were stationed at the gate began firing on the approaching zombies. They were crack shots and did a good job of not wasting their ammo by peppering the tree line, but the trees themselves proved be a greater challenge. Because the trees were so densely packed, they blocked many of the zombies approaching the gate from the guard’s machine gun fire.

  The perimeter fence was designed to keep out the occasional rogue zombie, bear, or other miscellaneous wildlife. The camp was in the process of replacing the fencing with a reinforced structure to withstand heavier attacks, but currently most of it was just chain link fencing and that was not going to stop the onslaught that was currently attacking it.

  The weak fence literally folded under the force that the advancing horde was exerting. As the poles and fencing ripped out of the ground the zombies at the front of the group tripped and fell over the debris. They were quickly trampled by those behind.

  The guards that were just a moment ago firing at the zombies, were now running from the gate that was being toppled over. The metal beams crashed to the ground tearing up chunks of earth. A few unlucky zombies were caught underneath it and were impaled, crushed, and otherwise decapitated by the beams. It was chaos as the zombies were now fully into the camp now. No one was safe.

  Those guards that were once ready to arrest us were now rushing forward, taking cover behind the convoy that brought us back and started firing at the horde. It sounded like a warzone. Then the big guns mounted on the Humvees made their presence known as soldiers fired at the zombies.

  I turned back around to where Larson was once standing and saw him running toward the back of the camp. He pushed his way through the panic-stricken people who were racing for cover as well. I needed to stop him before he could do anything else. I turned real quick at David.

  “Go,” he yelled over the turmoil. “We can handle this.”

  I gave chase just as David and California grabbed rifles out of the back of the pickup.

  People were running every which way looking for cover. I did my best to stay out of their way as I pursued Larson. A woman pulling her young son in tow came out from behind a building and I ran into them at full speed. We both spun and fell to the ground. It was more shocking than anything. I helped her get to her feet.

  “Are you ok?” I asked.

  She just nodded.

  “Get indoors.”

  She nodded again and then started on her way again.

  I dusted myself off and spotted the mess hall and Larson’s office. I looked around the area first to see if I could spot him anywhere else. There was no sign of him, so I cautiously headed toward the entrance.

  The windows of the second story office were dirty so I couldn’t see anything clearly, but I could just make out his shadow moving frantically inside. I went upstairs and quickly opened the door. The noise startled him, and he quickly turned with a pistol aimed at me. I raised my hands in an effort to talk with him.

  “It’s over,” I said.

  “It’s far from over,” Larson said. He was standing behind his desk and in front of another dirty window, the brown light turning him into a silhouette.

  There were a couple of filing cabinets with their drawers open, their contents sloppily rifled through. He was pulling some kind of paperwork out of them and shoving them into a bag on his desk. Carelessly, he placed the pistol onto his desk and continued to shove paperwork into the bag.

  “What are you doing here?” I said, stalling until I could figure out a plan of action. “Why were they bringing Emily here?”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he said.

  “Try me.” I had lowered my hands and was now standing completely inside the office.

  “You were on to something, Captain. It’s just a shame you couldn’t let it be.”

  “I couldn’t let it be? You jeopardized all these people’s lives.”

  “No. You did by bringing them here.”

  “Me?”

  “Don’t be so naïve. I know you found the tracker in the APC.”

  “Who put the tracker in the APC?”

  Larson shook his head and shoved more paperwork into his bag.

  “Who are you working for?” I asked, trying a different route.

  Larson stopped and looked me in the eyes. “You don’t want to know,” he said.

  “Would you listen to yourself? What is going on here? This is not why you started this camp.”

  “Look at what’s going on around you,” he said. “This isn’t our world anymore. It’s theirs.”

  I was thoroughly confused now. There were a bevy of strange coincidences going on that didn’t make sense. I was trying to make heads or tails of what was going on and his cryptic answers were not making it easy.

  “What ‘they’ are you referring to?” I asked.

  “We didn’t band together because we were selfless, we banded together because we were selfish,” he said as he picked the pistol again. Tears were glossing over his eyes. I raised my hands again in defense, fearful of what he might do.

  Larson grabbed the straps of the duffel bag and tossed it into the corner across the room. With his free hand he reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a flare. He popped the cap off and drug the tip along the top of the desk and the flare sparked to life.

  “Don’t do this,” I pleaded.

  “It’s too late,” he said.

  There were no words that I could say that would get him stop. I could feel the heat from the flare, pieces of its phosphorus tip falling off and drifting to the ground. Tears were now rolling down his face. I was beginning to understand the answers I was looking for were probably in that duffel bag, but I would never know what they were because Larson threw the flare at the bag. It landed dead center in the duffel bag and it caught on fire like it was drenched in gasoline. There was a bright flash and I had to bring my hands over my face to block the heat. He must have put an accelerant in the bag before I got there.

  Whether by accident or design the bag had been tossed underneath some drapes and the fire had now spread to those. The rotted ceiling panels were next as the fire crept across it with its curious fingers. Smoke began to fill the room.

  “I’m sorry, Captain, this is where I leave you,” he said as he raised the pistol under his chin.

  “No!” I screamed.

  Larson squeezed the trigger and the gun fired. His head bounced as the bullet ripped through brain tissue and bone. The top of his skull popped open spraying blood and grey matter onto the ceiling cutting a temporary hole through the fire. Blood instantly spilled out of his nose and his eyes bulged forward. His limp body fell into the chair next to the desk.

  The office was now fully engulfed in flames. The heated amber in the wood exploding in the flames were the only sounds in the camp at the moment.

  Smoke billowed from the burning skeleton of the mess hall. I stood watching the heap of unanswered questions burn.

  I must have been standing there for a while when I heard the hum of an engine and the dirt crunch under the tires behind me. I turned and saw David pulling up in the Jeep. California was riding shotgun and I was surprised to see Emily sitting in the back seat. Their confused faces were watching the smoke drift into the air.

  “What did you find out?” California
said as walked up next to me. I just shook my head.

  The last of the horde had been dealt with not long after the burning mess hall had collapsed in on itself. A couple of teams had gone into the surrounding woods and nearby neighborhoods to deal with the stragglers. Crews were currently loading up the bodies so they could be removed to a remote spot and burned. It would take them a few more days to completely clear all of the bodies and weeks after that to repair all of the damage. The camp would be on alert for months after that in case the commotion had caused any unwanted attention.

  The camp was already returning to normal and would be in full swing by tomorrow. Understandably people were weary and questioning their place in the camp as well as the future of the camp in general. David held an emergency community meeting where most of the camp attended and agreed to place David in charge. Their concerns were quelled for the time being and eventually they would fully trust him.

  The smell of smoke still filled the air, but the mess hall was reduced to a smoldering ash pile. It was starting to turn to night now as the sun lowered behind the mountains. I sat on the steps of my cabin. I had the kid’s journal in my hand, having just finished reading through it. Emily didn’t know I had it and I was waiting for her to meet me here so I could give it to her.

  She came around the corner of the cabin and sat next me.

  I saw her through the corner of my eyes looking at the journal. I did my best to clean it off, I didn’t want her to have it covered in blood. Without saying anything I handed the journal to her. She gently took it out of my hands but didn’t open it.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get to him in time,” I said.

  “Thank you for going out there,” she said.

  “He saved this camp,” I said.

  We were quiet for a moment. She ran her fingers over the journal.

  “You know we grew up in that house,” she said. “It was the first and only house my parents ever bought. I think I’ll take him back there.” She looked up to the sky. “I guess the dead never really leave us.”

  I turned my head toward her. She pondered the sky for another few moments before coming back down to Earth. She placed the journal back in my hands.