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Hunter Wars Omnibus Edition (Books 1 - 3)

Page 60

by SD Tanner


  The moment he walked out of the bedroom, Pax asked, ‘So, what’s the plan today, Gears?’

  ‘Ya got nothin’ better to do than hassle me?’ He grumbled in reply.

  ‘Nope,’ Pax said bluntly. ‘I’m gonna follow ya around and irritate the crap outta ya.’

  Glaring at Pax, he replied dourly, ‘Nothin’ new about that. I ain’t doin’ nothin’ I need you for, so fuck off and do somethin’ useful.’

  Unfazed by his rudeness, TL asked amiably, ‘What are you gonna do, Gears?’

  ‘I dunno yet,’ he replied.

  He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. To work that out he would have to think and he still didn’t want to do that. Since Ip died, he hadn’t done much of anything other than wander around unfocussed, paying little attention to where he was or what he was doing. People kept asking him questions he didn’t have answers to and he was fed up with being harassed.

  Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he sloshed milk into the cup and emptied in three packets of sugar. Stirring the sickly sweet drink, he managed to spill it on the counter and ignoring the mess, he walked out onto the balcony and stared morosely at the sea. If Ip were here, he thought, she’d wrap her arms around him and sweep away his bad mood with her peaceful presence. Shaking his head, he drank his coffee in one gulp and stormed back into the suite, dropping his dirty cup on the table. He felt agitated and he needed to calm down, but he wasn’t sure how to steady his nerves.

  The door to the suite opened and Nelson walked in and said, ‘How are you all doing?’

  Nelson lived on the Naval base and surprised to see him, he asked bluntly, ‘Whataya doin’ here?’

  ‘I’ve come to pray with you, Gears,’ Nelson replied calmly.

  As a child, he prayed every night with his mother until he was five, but he’d never prayed since and he said sharply, ‘I ain’t the prayin’ type. Ya know that already.’

  Nelson chuckled and said, ‘I do know that, Gears, but prayers are said in a lot of different ways.’

  Not really caring what Nelson meant, he asked, ‘Whatdaya mean?’

  Sitting on the sofa he’d just been sleeping on, Nelson asked, ‘Do you remember what you said the day we buried over a thousand people from Haven?’

  Haven was the island that was home to two thousand people. Ruler infected just one person on the island and they lost over a thousand people in less than an hour. Friends, family and loved ones were newly born as hunters and they shot every single one of them. To clear the island, they packed over a thousand newly born hunter corpses in body bags, took them to the middle of the ocean and one by one, dropped them into the deep, cold water. Pop told him he needed to speak to the survivors and show leadership to help the living find a way forward. He’d spoken to the survivors, but he didn’t remember what he’d said that day or whether it was of any help to anyone. It was just another very bad day. It seemed the longer they stayed true to their mission, the more bad days they were having and the next bad day always seemed to be worse than the last.

  Sitting on the chair opposite Nelson, he said, ‘No, I dunno what I said.’

  Calmly, Nelson said, ‘I know what you said that day.’

  Frowning, he asked, ‘How? Ya weren’t there.’

  ‘No I wasn’t, but every time I asked people how they were coping they all said the same thing,’ Nelson replied. ‘That they were living life twice as hard and remembering their friends and family every day. That you had told them that the best way to honor the fallen was to remember them well and find a way to enjoy the life you still have.’

  He remembered he had said that and he replied, ‘Are ya tellin’ me to practice what I preach Nelson?’

  Bluntly, Nelson said, ‘Yes I am, Gears.’

  He snorted and said, ‘That’s a funny way to pray.’

  ‘I didn’t say you had to pray, Gears,’ Nelson replied honestly. ‘We’re all praying enough for you. Everyone knows how close you and Ip were and how great the loss is, but they need you to be you. No one believes they’re going survive this without you.’

  ‘No one is indispensable, Nelson,’ he said bluntly.

  Nelson shook his head and said, ‘That’s true, but we’ve lost Ip and we don’t want to lose you too. It’s taken great losses to get this far. Don’t waste their lives, Gears. Don’t waste Ip’s life, you know she worked hard to help keep us alive.’

  That was true. Ip had worked hard to help them access supplies and whenever there was danger from the hunters, she was quick to kill. She saved their lives the first day they met her and remained protective of them every day after.

  Sighing, he said, ‘Losin’ her makes it harder in a lot of ways. We can’t clear sites of hunters easily without her.’

  ‘We still have Isaac,’ TL said.

  ‘He’s not Ip,’ Pax pointed out. ‘Ip was fierce. Isaac can kill hunters by touching them, but he’s nowhere near as aggressive as Ip was.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Nelson said. ‘But you have to keep doing what you planned to do.’

  Shaking his head, he said, ‘Ya don’t understand, Nelson. Ip was always the game changer. Without her, I don’t think we would’ve agreed to take on the mission to kill all hunters and restore order. Quite frankly, before we met her, we thought it was impossible. Even after we met her, Pax still thought it was impossible.’

  Pax nodded and said, ‘It probably still is, Gears, but it’s a done deal. Ya can’t undo what’s done.’

  They were far from achieving their mission and he asked, ‘Whatdaya mean? Nothin’s done. We’ve barely started.’

  TL shook his head and said, ‘It started with the people, Gears. We made promises and now we have to deliver. People have trusted us and I’m not going back on what we promised them. You can quit if you want, but I won’t.’

  Looking grim, Pax said, ‘Me neither. BD told me how important the bases are to everyone. I can’t quit. It’d be shameful to let her down like that.’

  Inwardly he smiled and thought Pax never seemed to suffer from the emotion of shame and said, ‘I didn’t think ya knew what shame was, Pax.’

  Smirking at him, Pax said, ‘Shaddup Gears.’

  Running his fingers down the scar on his face, he thought, they’re right. There’s no going back now. Ip gave them hope for the future and they passed that hope onto others who believed deeply enough to die for it. Ip was just one more casualty of a world gone to hell. He realized he didn’t have the luxury of quitting, abandoning his post or taking a vacation from his life. People needed him and his brothers needed him. He asked people to deal with the pain of their losses and to move forward, he could hardly do less than what he asked of them. As he told the survivors of the massacre at Haven, forward is all we got and he accepted he had to move forward too.

  Nelson, TL and Pax were watching him closely and he said firmly, ‘Prayer time is over. Let’s get back to work. But there betta be an afterlife Nelson ‘cos, when this mission is done, I’m gonna want the opportunity to kick Pax in the ass for gettin’ us all killed.’

  CHAPTER FOUR: Bogus POTUS (Ruler)

  ‘I’m a reasonable man,’ he said amiably.

  He was sitting on a park bench looking at the now overgrown lawns in a public park in St Louis. Without the constant care of gardeners, the grass had grown into a tall field of green stalks and were swaying gently in the light breeze. Weeds had broken through the graveled paths that wove through the park and trees and bushes were growing wild, spreading their branches as if enjoying their newfound freedom.

  Sitting next to him was a tall, lean, grey-haired, handsome and well-groomed man called Gray Chellis. Before the outbreak of the virus, Gray was a mid-ranking politician. When he brought his hunters in to take over the bunker, the terrified people told him there were more bunkers and he ran across Gray living in another of the bunkers. Something about Gray interested him and having failed so badly at the Ranch, he decided that he needed more capable people around him. Hunting for talent, he wasn�
�t sure Gray would serve, but if he didn’t then he’d kill him.

  Gray polished his wire-rimmed glasses and holding the glasses to the sun to check they were clean, Gray replied mildly, ‘No, you’re not.’

  Cocky little man, he thought and asked politely, ‘Do you know I can kill you?’

  Settling his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, Gray said, ‘I know, but that’s not always the best solution.’

  Amused by Gray’s apparent confidence, he asked, ‘Are you sure?’

  Pompously, Gray said, ‘Sometimes being smart is better than being mighty. What’s your endgame?’

  He thought, my endgame is both complex and simple. This game is about control of the soul. Complex thing, the soul. More than a life and more than a body, the soul is the powerhouse and the engine room that makes humans more than a dog. It amused him that humans thought their intelligence set them apart, particularly since they weren’t all that smart. What really set them apart was their tenacity and their faith in the face of all odds. The powerhouse of faith they carried about themselves and their right to be, made them worth owning. He found it annoying. The way they could maintain a sense of hope and a belief they had the right to exist exactly as they were. Collecting souls was a sport he enjoyed, but the human race was resistant to being gathered up and added to his brood.

  He was astounded to find that even with most of the humans now turned into hunters, the last of the race hadn’t just laid down and died. Really, he thought, what is wrong with these people? How many of them have to die before they just give up? That’s the core of the problem, he thought, I can’t own what I can’t break and what I don’t own I don’t control. The battle between heaven and hell has always been an argument about control.

  Snorting derisively, he said, ‘I aim to own.’

  Smiling, Gray said, ‘Then you need to take control of everything on earth.’

  ‘Yes I do,’ he replied.

  ‘Do you have control of everything on earth?’ Gray asked.

  He frowned. No, he didn’t and that irked him. So far the hunters hadn’t succeeded in destroying all humans and worse still, the humans were fighting back with some success. He retaliated by using super hunters to control the hunters to turn them into an army of killers, but even that wasn’t entirely successful. The human race was proving to be more resourceful than he expected. To date, they hadn’t lost hope in their future or faith in themselves and he found their resilience frustrating. He didn’t have the control he should have by now and he believed this resistance stemmed from the imp and those dogs. That reminded him of their last encounter and recalling the feeling of the imp’s teeth on his throat, he felt his rage stir.

  He found Ip unnerving. There was something quite unnatural about her and she was neither one thing nor the other, not human and not demon either. Much like the super hunters turned the hunters into an effective army of killers, the imp turned the dogs into effective guardians of the human race. This was not a problem he expected to have. Quite why she and those dogs had so much faith in humans was beyond him, but their faith was inspiring hope and that was the polar opposite of what he intended. His rage rumbled again and he empathized with its anger. With so much lost and so little left, man’s spirit should have crumbled. All he should need to do is sweep up the remnants. Without faith, there’s no hope and without hope, there’s only despair and with despair he owned the soul.

  Even when he was happy, his blue on blue eyes looked dead, but now they looked utterly flat and curling his lip, he said, ‘No, I don’t have control.’

  With an air of confidence, Gray said, ‘The problem with power is it really does lie with the people, but fortunately most people are stupid and lazy. If you want control of people, you have to tell them what they want and then give it to them.’

  Oh, how very basic, he thought. Every soul is powerful, but every soul can give their power to others and everyone knows that. Gray pulled several cigars from the top pocket of his white shirt and taking a highly polished cigar cutter from his trouser pocket, he deftly snipped the end off both cigars.

  Handing a freshly snipped cigar to Ruler, Gray said, ‘People have very simple needs and they’ll sacrifice a lot to have those needs fulfilled. According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, at the most basic level all people need is air, food, drink, shelter, warmth, sex and sleep. After that, they need safety, security, order and freedom from fear. Beyond that, they need love, friendship and affection. Then there is the need for respect and ultimately self-actualization through personal growth and realization of their full potential.’

  Pausing, Gray lit his cigar and after drawing deeply and checking the end of his cigar was evenly lit, he handed his lighter to Ruler and continued, ‘The greatest flaw of Maslow’s hierarchy was the assumption that all men are equal.’

  He lit his own cigar and drawing deeply, he enjoyed the slight rush of nicotine through his veins and asked, ‘How are they not equal?’

  Gray chuckled and said, ‘Maslow assumed all men had the potential for self-actualization, but most men are dumber than chimps.’

  He chortled happily and said, ‘Now that I agree with.’ Still enjoying his cigar and feeling mellowed, he said, ‘If you have a point then make it. I hate being bored.’

  ‘My point is this,’ Gray said calmly. ‘People are stupid, but they’re also sheep. If you tell them what they need and then you promise to give it to them, they’ll follow you over a cliff. But if you frighten them, they’ll run and hide.’

  I know that, he thought, but I assumed with so much lost, man would already be broken, given up their hope and sunken into despair. His assumption was wrong. Man was not entirely broken and he was still fighting for control.

  He didn’t think much of Gray and thought he seemed rather stupid, but he did need a new plan so he said, ‘Go on.’

  Blowing a smoke ring, Gray said, ‘Scaring the people in the bunker will only work on the people in the bunker. Anyone who knows what you’re doing there will run away and if you want them, then you’re going to have to find them. Wouldn’t it be easier if the people came to you?’

  Well, of course it would, he thought, but even humans weren’t stupid enough to walk into hell. Last time he set up a camp, he sent Chuckles to fetch people, but he only found two or three hundred whereas the imp and those dogs had thousands of people at their bases. He didn’t like being told, but Gray had a point.

  With a rare display of patience, he asked, ‘How do I get them to come to me?’

  Gray smiled and said, ‘You need a front man. I’m a politician and that’s what I do. I front other people’s agendas. You need people to come to you, so you can take control of the world. I know how to get people to believe in bullshit.’

  ‘And what do you want for your services?’ He asked, not really caring what Gray wanted.

  Gray smiled and replied, ‘Power.’

  At the Ranch, Chuckles demonstrated quite a murderous streak and took full advantage of the power he gave him. He enjoyed watching Chuckles at work, but he suspected Gray meant a different type of power and he said, ‘Explain.’

  ‘I don’t care about dying,’ Gray said bluntly. ‘I just don’t want it to end.’

  He smiled and said, ‘I see. You want to live forever.’

  ‘Is that possible?’ Gray asked.

  Yes, he thought, it’s possible, but it’s not within my remit to make it happen. Joining the dark side and becoming immortal in that way is a personal choice. Basically, a person simply had to be a big enough asshole and they’d get a free pass to the dark side. It had nothing to do with him, but Gray didn’t know that.

  Smiling, he said, ‘Of course it is. I’m omnipotent. Give me what I want and I’ll grant you three wishes.’

  Continuing to puff on his cigar, Gray said, ‘Sun Tzu wrote the extreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. In this country what people really want to believe in is the President. We need to make me the new POTUS.’

&nb
sp; ‘POTUS?’ He queried.

  ‘President of the United States,’ Gray explained. ‘And people trust the mighty, so we need control of the nuclear weapons. Getting the weapons are not the problem. God knows we made enough of them, but knowing how to use them is a problem. We need to keep control of the weapons experts in the bunkers.’

  He had no intention of using the nuclear weapons. That would be genocide, and genocide didn’t give him control of anything. Irritated, he thought, any idiot can obliterate, but there’s no return in that. Reflecting further, he thought, Gray’s a man who likes to believe he’s in control and who am I to dissuade him since the direct approach isn’t working. The humans have scattered to hide from the hunters and under the direction of the imp and those dogs, the humans are forming an army. He knew there was a very good chance the human race would regroup, albeit into a smaller group, but they’d grow again. It was in their nature to be ambitious that way. He’d waited a long time for the opportunity to take complete control of humans and after his last encounter with the imp and the dogs, he felt he lost rather gained ground.

  Still rambling on, Gray said, ‘Clearly you control the hunters. Give me that ability and I’ll make sure the people come to refugee camps. I will assure them the government is back in control. Of course, the refugee camps will need to be real, but once everyone has moved to the camps then you can take control.’ Smiling, he added, ‘Unless you’d like me to continue to act as a front man.’

  So transparent, he thought, I give you the power of the POTUS and you get the people into refugee camps, then you kill me and you’re left with the all the power. Humans are so stupid they’re barely worth doing business with. That said, if the imp and the dogs believe there is a President they may be willing to hand their army over. Even if they didn’t, then people may choose to go to a government refugee camp rather than join their renegade army. Either way he’d win. Through a fake President, the four might unwittingly join him or they’d lose many of their people to a government-run refugee camp led by a bogus POTUS.

 

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