The Hunger (Book 2): Consumed Read online

“The transmission is toast.” Lance looked at Brown in the rearview mirror. “Hand some of that stuff up to Cass. I’m going to pull up to the shore so you guys can get out and run. Carry as much of the gear as you can.”

  Brown got to work, gathering up supplies and putting it back into the bags and baskets.

  “What are you going to do?” Cass asked Lance.

  “If there are any of them by the shore, I’m going to try to lead them away. If they won’t follow, then I’ll run them over.”

  “Or you could get out with us and run for it.”

  “I will if there aren’t any of them there.” Lance knew the odds of that were slim. Since they dropped anchor there a few days ago, more and more of the infected had wandered the shores by them. They had to move the boat up the river a hundred yards so they could quickly get off.

  Lance eased off the gas as they turned onto 910. They drove by a garage and a few abandoned homes. The road ended at a line of trees, which led to the river.

  Between the foliage and trucks, Lance could see the Duchess floating on the Allegheny.

  More than two dozen of the infected stalked along the edge of the water.

  “Damn.” Lance slowed the car down, letting it coast the last hundred feet. He pointed through the windshield. “Get out here and hide behind that house.”

  Cass started to argue with him when he cut her off with a firm shake of his head.

  “Relax. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m going to turn around, honk the horn, and lead them away. I’ll come back in a few minutes. Easy, right?”

  “Nothing is easy for us anymore.” Cass grabbed her baskets and got out. “Don’t fuck around, Lance.”

  “Hey, you called me Lance. That might be a first.”

  Brown cleared his throat. “While I appreciate the humor of the two of you going back and forth, perhaps you could save it for later. The fishing rods are still back here for you to take.”

  “Hurry up, dumbass.” Cass gave him one last look before following Brown. They jogged across an overgrown lawn, crouching beside the front porch of a cottage.

  The hoard of daywalkers streamed into view behind the car, filling the street in a tidal wave of death. Lance pounded on the horn, focusing their attention on him. The contingent by the water teetered around, mouths distorting in shrieks.

  “Come get it.”

  Lance put the car in reverse and mashed the accelerator down.

  The engine revved with vigor, but the car didn’t budge.

  “Oh shit.”

  Chapter 2

  Lance worked the gas pedal up and down, listening to the whine of the engine, but getting nowhere. Fear tore at him as he slammed the shifter into drive and pushed on the pedal again.

  He didn’t move. The transmission was shot.

  Cass stood up beside the cottage, hand reaching for her axe.

  Lance waved her off, motioning for her to stay down. He wished he hadn’t honked the horn seconds before. If shooting himself in the foot were an Olympic sport, he would have been a gold medalist.

  He threw the door open and stepped out, grabbing the fishing rods from the backseat. The swarm of daywalkers behind him closed in, the clicks of their gnashing teeth audible over their pounding feet.

  Those by the river filtered between the trees, gaining momentum as they pushed through the undergrowth.

  Lance pointed at the cottage. “Go inside! I’ll draw them to the front while you slip out the back door!”

  Cass nodded and ran up the handful of steps to the entrance. Trying the knob, she found it locked. She freed her axe from its casing and plunged it into the wood, just above the handle. Putting her foot to the door, she yanked the blade free and swung again, splintering the barrier.

  The infected by the tree line reacted to the sound, angling toward the cottage. Their siren songs filled the air, assaulting Lance’s ears. He shouted at them, trying to refocus their attention. His throat burned as he screamed, but he couldn’t get them to veer off course.

  He reached into the front seat and pressed the horn again, honking in a rhythm. The lead creature paused, its head cocking at an angle.

  “That’s it! Over here, you dumb bastards!” He kept on the horn until they shifted in his direction again.

  Cass disappeared through the door of the cottage with Doc Brown close behind. Their faces appeared in a side window a moment later, peering out at Lance. Cass waved for him to follow.

  He stood by the car and continued honking, waiting for the infected to clear the tree line. They would need every second they could get in case Eifort didn’t have the drawbridge lowered by the time they got there.

  The crowd behind him closed in. He stared at the sightless face of death, reflecting, at the most inopportune time, about the unimaginable state of the human race. They’d devolved, mutating into mindless monsters. Only weeks ago, they built skyscrapers and traveled to space. Now they attacked anything with flesh, driven by the never-ending desire to consume.

  No matter what, he refused to allow himself to become one of them.

  He snapped out of it and bolted for the cottage, the fishing rods clanging against his legs with each stride. A desperate screech came from only a few feet behind him, urging him on, his quads burning as he stretched them to their limits. Almost every day he cursed himself for being so out of shape.

  Lance cleared the front steps with a single leap and plunged into the semi-darkness of the cottage.

  His hip bounced off a bench by the front door, a twinge of pain running through his leg.

  “Great plan, dumbass. I really liked the part where you drew a bunch of attention to yourself and then couldn’t get the car to move.” Cass hid by a window, crouched down so only her head poked above the sill.

  “Kiss my ass.” Lance ran past her, moving through a short hallway and dingy kitchen. Pots and pans littered a peeling linoleum floor.

  He maneuvered his way through the cottage as quickly as the dim light would allow. A dining room came after the kitchen, the smell of decay filling the air. Lance paused as he spotted the source of the foul odor.

  A body leaned back in a chair at the end of a long dining table, its head rolled back as far as the neck would allow. Dried blood dotted teal wallpaper behind it. A gun rested in the lap of the body, index finger still caressing the trigger.

  Cass ran into his back, almost knocking him over.

  “Don’t stop!” She shoved him hard as she eyed the body. “If we don’t get to the boat, you’re going to wish you’d shot yourself too.”

  They moved to the rear of the house, finding a screened-in back porch. Lance kicked a door open with his foot and ran down the three steps leading into the small backyard.

  Daywalkers staggered by the edge of the lawn, mewling sounds coming from their mouths as they worked in anticipation.

  Through a row of trees lining the bank at the end of the cottage’s property, Lance could see the Duchess floating. The drawbridge wasn’t lowered.

  They hustled across the overgrown lawn, long grass flapping against their shins. Dew soaked their shoes.

  A shriek came from their left, echoing off the trees before them.

  Lance caught a glimpse of a naked woman pointing at them, her head tipped back, elongated fangs glistening in the morning sun. Her shoulders hunched, the rapidly expanding musculature distorting her body. Ashy skin and empty eye sockets further pointed to her advanced condition.

  She would seek refuge in the darkness soon.

  Her wail cutoff and she exploded forward, moving with an unnatural quickness.

  A throng of daywalkers surrounding the still-running Cavalier snapped to attention at the cry. They abandoned the vehicle and shambled toward the lawn.

  Two dozen more tore through the screens enclosing the porch. They tripped over each other, sprawling into the damp grass, crawling across it in unending pursuit.

  Cass took the lead, weaving through the tree line. Brown and Lance followed, their brea
thing labored. They stopped at the edge of the water, waving their arms at Eifort.

  The soldier stood on the deck of the ship, rifle leaning over her shoulder. She returned their waves before pressing a button by the bridge, starting the slow process of lowering it.

  “Hurry!” Lance looked back over his shoulder. Sweat stung his eyes as he watched the daywalkers cross the lawn, crying out as they chased their next meal.

  “How many are following you? I heard a gunshot a few minutes ago.” Eifort raised a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Oh shit! Get down!”

  Lance dropped to a knee and turned around in time to see the nude woman burst through the trees. Cass kneeled beside him, baskets dropping to the ground, her hand grasping the handle of her axe. A pained grunt escaped Brown as he got down. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his back and chest.

  Eifort’s rifle cracked behind them.

  A bloody hole punched through the woman’s chest. She squealed as her waist twisted from the impact, sending her to the ground with a wet thud.

  The motor of the drawbridge droned behind them.

  Two more infected staggered to the edge of the water on their right, the rocks along the shore slowing their progress. Eifort dropped them with two shots each, their torsos pocked with exit wounds.

  Cass grabbed the baskets again and spun around. The drawbridge had lowered to head height. She threw her elbow over the edge and heaved it down, bringing the platform a few inches lower. The motor whined under the pressure, the end of the bridge wobbling.

  When it reached her waist, Cass slid one of her baskets onto it and grabbed the railing, dragging herself onto the platform. She scooped up the bin as she sprinted toward the boat.

  Eifort fired again, clipping a daywalker in the shoulder as it cleared the trees.

  “You’re next, Doc!” Lance grabbed Brown’s shirt and pulled him to his feet.

  They ran up the drawbridge as it clanged against the rocks on the shore. Cass punched the button to raise it again when they hit the halfway point.

  Eifort’s rifle clicked as she squeezed the trigger again. “Damn! I’m out.”

  The bridge bounced as Lance and Brown stepped off it. It began to rise again, the agonizingly slow progress taunting them as they watched a massive herd of the infected smash through the foliage.

  Lance stared in awe as hundreds of victims of the Xavier virus filled the street, lawn, and shore, descending upon the river in a hurricane of madness. They hadn’t seen a group this large since they’d fled the North Shore, watching as the stadiums drowned in vampires.

  Three of them reached the platform as the end hovered six feet above the ground. Their hands fumbled at the railings and posts, latching onto any surface they could.

  The engine protested under their weight, the ascent halting. Smoke puffed from the pulley system.

  Lance tossed the fishing poles to the deck and hit the stop button for the drawbridge. He grabbed the handle of his knife and slid it out of the sheath, taking a few deep breaths. Attacking a handful of daywalkers with a small blade made his stomach twist.

  “I’ve got this,” Cass said as she stepped past him. The axe was already in her hands.

  “But—”

  “No time for chivalry.”

  Lance watched as she strode down the platform, meeting the first of the infected halfway. She buried the head of the axe in its chest, knocking it backwards. Blood bubbled from its mouth as she tore the blade free and kicked the body into the water.

  The next daywalker pulled itself onto the bridge in time to look up at the arcing axe. Its head bounced into the river, followed by its wriggling body.

  Cass stomped on the hands of the last. Its fingers crunched under her heel. Unable to maintain its grip with its digits rending in different directions, it fell to the rocky shore, wailing up at Cass.

  “Hit it!” Cass sprinted up the platform as Lance started the engine again.

  Hundreds of the infected stormed the shore, splashing knee high into the water. They grasped at the air, cries of rage and mania filling the morning. The bridge dangled over their heads as it lifted away, drawing closer to the boat.

  Lance peered at Cass as she secured the axe on her back. His ego still struggled with the fact that she was a much more advanced fighter than he was. He appreciated her skill and prowess, but hated the fact that she put herself in danger so often. Whether it was chauvinistic or not, he wanted to protect her rather than having it the other way around.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “That little pig-sticker you have there doesn’t have the range this bad boy does.” She patted the handle. “And don’t even give me any of that bullshit about keeping me safe. Anyone who can’t take care of themselves nowadays won’t last long.”

  “I could have handled that,” he said with little conviction. He knew she was right. She handled them with ease, whereas he would have struggled with his short knife. He needed to find a better weapon.

  “Who cares—it’s over.”

  The shrieks from the beach escalated, making it difficult for them to hear each other. Doc Brown pointed at the window looking into the dining room inside the boat. Lance nodded and grabbed the fishing poles, heading into the interior of the Duchess.

  Eifort closed the door behind them, muting the wails somewhat. There were so many of the infected lining the river that nothing short of a vacuum could have insulated their cries entirely.

  “I guess our theory about them dying out doesn’t hold up,” Eifort said as she joined them at a round table along the right wall. “There’s an entire army of them out there.”

  Because they hadn’t seen as many of them over the past three days, they’d pondered whether the infected were consolidating in the heart of the city or if they were killing each other for meat. The mass outside proved both of those ideas wrong.

  Perhaps they were all mutating into full-blown Vladdies. No one wanted to voice that possibility.

  Lance and company stayed in the suburbs because of the strip malls and department stores. Having quick access to a multitude of supplies made their scavenging easier. At night, the inhuman cries of the vampires still came from all sides, but the boat kept them relatively safe. If the population of daywalkers wasn’t as thin as they thought, it would only be a matter of time before one of their morning trips got them killed.

  “We should move on.” Brown took one of the baskets from Cass and dumped the contents on the table.

  “I agree,” Lance said with a shrug. “I think we should go to the next safe zone.”

  Cass shook her head. “Why? The last one we were in went tits up as soon as we got there.”

  “But the Greensburg location is still going. We hear them on the radio every day.”

  “So?”

  “So we can go there and get some supplies on our way to the mountains. Maybe some other people will come with us.”

  “Some other people who we’ll have to feed and keep safe. That isn’t so appealing to me.”

  Lance stared at her. “You mean like the doc and Eifort here? They’re pulling their own weight. Like me? You yanked me out of that alley, knowing damn well it could have gotten you killed.”

  “It still might if you keep trying to get me to do stupid shit like go to Greensburg.”

  Brown popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry.

  “What’s that?” Eifort asked.

  “Antihistamine. My allergies are killing me.”

  “We risked our lives so you wouldn’t have a runny nose?” Cass’ eyes narrowed. “Am I the only one here who doesn’t want to get eaten alive?”

  Brown remained as calm as ever. “We also have painkillers, vitamins, aspirin, penicillin, and a multitude of other antibiotics.”

  “Oh.” Cass relaxed in her chair, though her brow furrowed. “Ignore me then—I’m being bitchy.”

  “Yeah, you are.” Lance tried to keep a straight face as he watched Cass, but he cracked wh
en her cheeks flushed. “I’m kidding, relax.”

  Eifort slipped her camouflage jacket from her shoulders and draped it over the back of her chair. She wore a white tank top underneath that showed off her small figure. Dog tags hung around her neck.

  Lance caught Brown giving her a quick look and suppressed a grin. The doc didn’t talk much about anything other than what they needed to do to survive. It was good to see him notice something other than how much food or medicine they had left. The man was human after all. He needed the occasional distraction as much as the rest of them.

  “We can’t risk having you go to the shore again, Doc,” Lance said.

  “What? Why?” Brown gave him a confused look.

  “You’re too important. We can’t chance you getting hurt.”

  “I don’t deserve anything more than the rest of you. If you’re going to risk yourselves to gather supplies, then I will too.”

  “If one of us gets injured or sick, you’re the only one who knows what to do.”

  “But—”

  “He’s right,” Cass said. “You’re too valuable to risk.”

  “My life isn’t—”

  “I agree,” Eifort said.

  “If you don’t like it, you can call Human Resources and complain.” Lance leaned back in his chair. “How many doctors are left in the world?”

  Brown grumbled for a few more minutes before finally relenting. He went back to sorting their new stash of drugs.

  “I think you need to be his bodyguard,” Lance said to Eifort. “Keep an eye on him. It’ll be good for all of us if he keeps on kicking.”

  “Sounds like a decent detail.” Eifort pointed to her rifle, which she’d placed in the corner by the door. “That was the last of my rounds, by the way. We need to find something else.”

  Lance grimaced. Other than Cass’ pistol, that was their only ranged weapon. Eifort’s aim was extraordinary and allowed her to cover them from a distance. They would need to replace it as soon as possible.

  “We’ll grab something on our next trip.” Cass stood and walked around the table, grabbing Lance by the elbow and pulling him from his chair.

  “What?”

  “You know what.”