The Hunted

by A. J. Scudiere

  Shaking his head, Cage began running toward them. He must have decided that Susan could just keep up. But it was Joule who stalked the space carefully, sweeping her gaze wide. Again, taking in the street, she turned left and saw the fight.

  When she turned opposite the woods, she saw the houses flanking the opposite side of the row and saw nothing. There were no hunters sneaking out between the mostly empty homes. Not that she could see. She saw nothing in the dim porch lights some of the residents offered.

  But as she swung her bow and arrow to the right, she noticed a startling sight. In the light at the end of the street, another pack stood waiting, ready for the fight.

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  Joule ran toward the oncoming pack. It might be a stupid idea, but she did it anyway. She had to get as many arrows into them as possible before they got close, before they really registered her darkened form and that it was the one hurting them.

  No wonder the other night hunters weren’t falling when they were shot or cut. These packs likely had no rat poison in them at all.

  But what about the water? she wondered. Was it even working?

  She didn't have time to look and see. The new pack maybe hadn’t spotted the team in all their black carbon, but the fight itself could not be missed. The pack was still approaching their group, and she hadn't called out to warn them yet. Her voice was choking as her throat was starting to clamp on her.

  So she didn’t yell out. Instead, Joule acted.

  She had the advantage of distance. Before they got too close, she would turn and run back to her group, to be part of her own safety in numbers. But for now, she quietly let arrows fly, taking a moment to aim, pull hard on the string, and sink her arrows deep into her targets.

  She did all this as the pack gained speed. She put arrow after arrow into them, and it didn’t stop any of them, though she could account for many injuries.

  Her hand reached back to pull another arrow from her quiver and caught only empty air. Shit, she thought, she was out of ammo. She'd never run out before.

  She’d carried the arrows night after night when they went out and though she lost many during each outing, she'd stocked up, ordering an ungodly number from online stores. She’d never ordered too many from one place, as she didn’t want to draw attention to all the crazy things she and her brother had been purchasing. The last thing she needed was some kind of NSA agent showing up on her doorstep. But she had plenty of arrows. Or so she’d thought.

  It was suddenly time to retreat. Time to alert the others.

  “Cage!” She yelled it at the top of her lungs before realizing he was no longer fighting alongside the group. He and Steve had come her direction. Though Steve stood ready with his knife in hand, Cage he took over shooting at the hunters. His darkened form stood planted as his crossbow sank short, stubby arrows into the pack members in rapid succession.

  But he wasn’t stopping them either. In fact, the animals were now approaching even faster.

  She tugged at him and Steve as she passed by. “Go! Go!”

  Joule ran back toward the relative safety of the group, hearing that Cage had followed her. With no more arrows, her bow was worthless. Tossing it aside, Joule ran on, even as she listened to it clatter to the pavement. Under that sound, she heard her brother behind her. Hopefully he had a few arrows left.

  “Kayla! Ivy!” She didn't yell for Susan. Susan had stepped into the fray and was whacking at one of the hunters that was trying to get in from behind where the others were fighting.

  Joule looked back to Steve to see he was running into the approaching pack instead of away. Her mouth hung open in horror as he waded in, hacking at the oncomers. The carbon powder wouldn’t be enough. They were dark but not invisible. She whispered, “Oh, holy shit.”

  Watching as Cage turned, she saw his eyes go wide as the pack started to surround Steve. One bit at his arm, but Steve managed to shake it off. Another went for his leg, but again, he shook it off.

  Frowning, Joule stood frozen. It was Cage who moved to help their friend, but even he pulled up to a dead stop. Suddenly, she found her voice.

  “They aren’t biting him!”

  “Yes, they are,” Cage hollered back.

  “No, they are but they don’t hold onto him. They attack us, but they’re attacking Steve’s weapons. Not him.” She almost smacked herself. Now was not the time for scientific inquiry.

  Cage was acting, grabbing at Steve and pulling him back to the group.

  As she, too, darted back into the safety of their own numbers, Joule could hear the hunters running behind them. The group had to get into formation.

  “Water?” she asked Steve as they reached the edge and took their places in the circle. She’d noticed he was holding a bottle.

  He tossed the empty container to the side. “Wasted most of it.”

  “Wasted?” she asked, pulling her one remaining stiletto and letting the grip roll into her hand.

  “It doesn't work.”

  Kayla had laced the water in the bottles with cyanide. The high doses should have killed the dogs on contact. That was why Kayla had been insistent that they all double glove. They couldn't afford to get it on themselves.

  Steve moved forward, putting himself in front of her and her brother. While Joule had appreciated Kayla's know-how and Ivy's ability to make things happen, she had underappreciated Steve's management skills and willingness to fight until this moment.

  This was not the first time he had stepped in front of them. She didn't know if he had kids of his own, but he clearly thought of them as children and he was protecting them.

  She had to appreciate that.

  Steve was aimed toward the pack that was no longer chasing them but getting into some kind of formation. She cautioned him, “Don't run into them. Let them come to us. We have to keep our backs together. Are you hurt?”

  Though they’d seen the dogs bite at him, he ran as though nothing had gotten a good hit. Steve shook his head. “Probably a few punctures.” But he wasn’t looking at her. He was watching the hunters and crouching into a better stance. “You good?”

  She nodded. That was another thing she began to appreciate about Steve. He might be trying to protect her, but he also seemed to understand that she and Cage had done this before. They had survived, so Steve listened.

  She heard the shouts of concern as Kayla and Ivy must have been able to find a moment to turn their heads and see what was coming. While they gathered themselves for just seconds, Joule pressed Steve again. “The water—you have to get it into their mouths directly and squeeze the bottle. Get as much as you can. Because that's the only way it works.”

  Joule thought about when they'd studied cyanide in chemistry class. She would have thought it would have taken less. Maybe it did, but if the effects weren't fast and, if the night hunters were as impervious to pain as it seemed they might be, it might take a while for them to go down.

  “Okay,” she nodded, one stiletto in her hand. She had thrown the other, hitting a hunter with it, back in the woods, but not having gained much for the loss.

  She was down to her last weapon, so she reached into the bag on her right hip, pulled out a water bottle and flipped the top open. She aimed it toward the approaching hunters and got ready.

  Steve looked at her. “I’ve got a spare knife. Do you want it?”

  But then Joule put the pieces together. “No. I want your inhaler!”

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  Cage swung with everything he had. Even so, his arms reverberated as the sword connected with first flesh and then bone as the hunter leapt at him.

  The dog was heavy, thick, and determined. The impact shook Cage. This pack was black, blending even more into the night than the brindle hunters had, or at least he thought so. Maybe he was just getting tired, but tired was not acceptable.

  The hunter still came at him, momentum carrying him forward despite the series of strikes Cage had dealt. The heavy body jolted into him, but Cage wouldn't let it take hi
m down. However, the bump made him stumble back a few feet. He slashed with the sword again, and pushed backwards with everything he had.

  To his side, Steve was talking to Joule. “No, you have to shake it first.”

  Not understanding, but not allowing himself to get sidetracked, he focused on the hunter as it fell onto its back, yelped, and rolled over before climbing to its feet to come at him again. It didn't matter though. Cage already had a second hunter coming at him and a third.

  Steve had stepped in to take some of the brunt off Cage. He carried a larger sword and he brought it down across the back of the hunter as it went airborne, leaping at Cage. Before the hunter even hit the ground, Steve swung again, two hands on the sword. He used that grip, not because it was a broadsword and carried its own weight, but to put his own might behind the swing. He turned the other way in a beautiful twist even as he felled another hunter that was aiming for Joule.

  The problem was, the hunters fell, but they got back up. Even the deep gouges in their sides didn't seem to stop them. It slowed them down, sure, but they were still big, they were still heavy, and their jaws still worked.

  The group of humans had all sustained bites or cuts, despite heavy clothing and their coordinated protection of each other. Despite the fact that they’d managed to wound and slow most of the hunters with arrows and shotgun pellets at a distance, before the creatures even got in range of biting. They were starting to wear thin.

  Cage had already felt the sting as one set of teeth had gotten far too close to his forearm. He'd yanked his arm out, reclaiming the limb as his own, but he wasn’t unscathed. He could feel the blood seeping into the long sleeve of his black T-shirt. Of course, he couldn't see the injury, but it was bad enough that he could smell it, even if the hunters couldn't.

  Luckily, there was no pain to ignore. He was far too high on the fight and the need to survive. He slashed again and again and noticed that Joule had only the stiletto and the water bottle as her weapons, but she held something else, too.

  “Cage!” She was shaking the thing and pushing it toward him. “Steve’s inhaler. Take it!”

  As the small plastic device pressed into his hand, she turned and struck at the dogs that came at her, hopefully letting them bleed out. But that was a slow game and they needed the fastest one they could find.

  Cage frowned at the inhaler as Steve stepped in front of him. “Suck in a full breath! I’m covering you.”

  Still, Cage looked to Joule, questioning.

  But she yelled back. “The wheelchair guy—Dr. Brett’s list said he had asthma!”

  Suddenly understanding, Cage stuck the inhaler in his mouth, and popped down the plunger. The sensation was overwhelming and it was hard to breathe in deeply. But he did it.

  The dogs were only nipping at Steve. They weren’t holding on. They hadn’t shredded him like they had tried to do to Susan, or even like the bite on Cage’s own arm. He wondered how fast the medicine would work.

  With a slick sidestep, Cage let one of the hunters jump by him, missing his target. Cage hadn’t wanted to be the target anyway. But he swung the dagger as the creatures passed, smacking at it even as he whirled away.

  “Joule,” he called out. “Take this!” He shoved the dagger into her hand. The stiletto, though very serviceable in a pair, was virtually useless here on its own. She could push it into the dogs and slide it around, but she left only a puncture wound. The dagger would kill them faster.

  He'd heard what Joule and Steve had said about the water. And this time he had an idea. “Kayla! Ivy! Susan!” He pushed the inhaler at Ivy, the closest one to him and let Steve bark out the orders to take the medication.

  With the short sword in one hand, and a water bottle grasped in the other, Cage faced the hunters again. He was armed with everything he could be. Waiting, he stayed still until another hunter came at him, then he swung with all his might, putting his whole upper body behind the move the way he had been taught in years of karate class. Cage was grateful now for all the repetition his instructors had put him through. It had made the move practically instinctual.

  He came down hard with the sword, cutting into the side of the hunter. Then he lunged, sidestepping as he flayed the creature’s flank. But next he prayed the water would work. He followed the first arm with the second, and as he passed the open wound, he sprayed it with the cyanide water.

  He heard the sharp squeal followed by a howl and watched as the hunter hit the pavement with a hard thud. It was not injured enough to warrant all of its limbs going limp, but it must have been in severe pain.

  As Cage watched, the legs scrambled, but the dog struggled to rise onto his feet again. As it yowled, Cage’s eyes scanned for the next hunter that came at him and he tried the move again.

  This time he hit the dog on the neck, and managed to make the one-two combo more fluid. He moved in almost a full circle, his right arm arcing up and over, the blade coming down and cutting into the skin. This time, his left hand trailed so closely behind it that he was practically filling the wound with the cyanide water as he cut it.

  Another scream sounded, and another hunter fell.

  Cage yelled to his sister, “Slash and spray!”

  Her eyes darted to his and for a moment they made contact there in the dark.

  She nodded and he watched as a hunter leaped up behind her, aiming for her head.

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  Joule felt the air around her move. She must have seen the hunter from her peripheral vision, for she knew the creature that she couldn't quite fully see was leaping to her left, trying to take her down even as she looked at her brother.

  She stepped quickly right, moving out of the direct attack. Turning—her left hand holding the dagger he had given her—she swung it hard. This weapon had more weight than the stilettos, and though she still had to put her own force behind it, this was enough.

  She yelled with the move, just like she’d been taught in her MMA classes. She’d never expected to be fighting non-human mammals with it, but she did what she had to. Her hand ran the weapon across the hunter’s face. She cut into the jaw, and she felt the blade slide along the bone guiding her cut toward its throat, and she watched as the flesh sliced wide.

  Still, as she moved to deliver the water, the hunter jumped at her again, its jaws clamping onto her exposed wrist. She felt the pressure and used it to squeeze the bottle. For a moment she panicked—had she just lost her hand? Or at least the use of it?

  But it didn’t stop her from delivering a stream of cyanide directly into the gaping neck wound. She felt the pressure easy as she heard the sound of the hunter crying and falling, the same noise she had heard her brother achieve several times before.

  As she looked down at her arm, she was surprised to see only a few small puncture wounds. The hunter hadn’t bit hard. Was it the inhaler? Or had she just gotten lucky? She didn’t know.

  She had to be careful though, and not get the cyanide on her open cuts. She also had to keep it off of her fellow fighters. Joule pulled back a little bit.

  Beside her, she saw Kayla and Ivy working as a team. They’d all taken hits off the inhaler as far as she knew, but so far no one had been bitten to test it. They fought with one of them hacking and the other sometimes turning and squirting water toward the wound, or down an open mouth. As she watched, Ivy rushed a hunter coming at her, jaws gaping wide. Holding a fresh bottle she’d pulled from her bag, Ivy used one black-gloved finger to flip it open. As the jaws came at her, she shoved the bottle into the open mouth and let the hunter’s bite squeeze it down its own throat. Ivy's words indicated her satisfaction with the result.

  It was Kayla who yelled, “You killed Newton!”

  Joule had no idea who Newton was, but she watched as Kayla took her anger out on a hunter that was already off its feet. They must have already slashed it, poisoned it, both, or more.

  Joule didn’t know where the anger had come from, but she watched as Kayla’s foot swung in an arc, catching the
hunter in the ribcage and sending it flying. The brindle color swung through the air, not high and not long, too heavy for someone Kayla’s size to have had much effect, but the effect when it landed was stunning.

  The hunters turned from her. The other hunters were their enemy, maybe even more than Kayla was. It was an enemy they could easily see, and that probably helped. The downed hunter was a partially defeated enemy already, and though the brindle hunter stood up and faced them down, growled even though the sound burbled, the black hunters turned on it as a pack, moving in a single unit.

  In a moment of brilliant thought, Joule grabbed a water bottle and doused the brindle hunter with the cyanide water. It likely wouldn’t kill him, but it could kill every one of the black hunters who took a big enough bite.

  “Get another,” she yelled. “Get them all!”

  When one of the black hunters inadvertently came near her, she slashed at it, and slashed and slashed. She’d just emptied her water bottle and she was going to have to kill this one by sheer strength. There was no secret weapon right now except her anger. The hunters had not only killed a pit bull named Newton, but they’d also killed her Mom and her Dad. Joule felt a surge of power with that thought and she brought the short dagger down with more force than she’d known she could.

  As soon as the hunter stumbled a bit, Cage leapt in. “Step back!” he hollered as he stabbed it with his own short sword.

  Joule took advantage of the move, knowing her brother could handle it. The hunter was already wounded, but he was heavy. She ran the few short steps to Kayla and Ivy.

  “Another! Give them all the water!” she yelled. Leaning down, she helped Ivy’s two gloved hands pick up a fallen brindle hunter by its feet and sling it. Together, they tossed it into the fray as it protested.

  Suck a duck, Joule thought, as the creature dropped right into the melee.