Ravaged (The Hunger #3) Page 8

  “We need to wrap the lights in the chicken wire so they can’t hit them with rocks.”

  “Got it.” Cass started across the field. “I’ll get the wire—you grab some bulbs.”

  Lance spotted Eifort standing at the back of the group, covering the survivors as they moved to the fire. He shouted for her, but she couldn’t hear him over the helicopter’s whining engine. He waved his arms over his head until she spotted him.

  “Let’s go!” He motioned for her to follow them.

  “I’ll go with you,” Brown said.

  “Doc, without a gun, there isn’t a whole hell of a lot you can do for us right now. Stay with the people and get them organized. Make them stand as close to the fire as possible until we can get the lights back up.”

  Lance took off after Cass, cursing at her under his breath. She was already fifty yards ahead of him. The field was too dark, too open for attack, to have them so spread out.

  Eifort was at his heels, running with smooth, long strides. She jammed a new magazine into her rifle as they approached the cabin. The interior lights were on, giving them a small circle of protection around the outside of the home.

  The rear had a motion-detecting light mounted above the door. Cass waited for them underneath it, her chest rising and falling in quick gasps.

  “What are we doing?” Eifort asked.

  “Getting new bulbs,” Lance said. “I need you to watch our backs while we grab the gear we need to install them.”

  “Wait here.” Eifort disappeared inside the back door, leaving Cass and Lance to exchange questioning looks before she returned a moment later.

  “I’ve got a couple of flares here.”

  They each popped one. A warm glow spread around them, giving them a multi-directional light that their flashlights didn’t provide.

  “Where is the chicken wire?” Lance asked Cass.

  “What’s left is in a couple of bundles behind the shed.”

  “Is the ladder still behind there?”

  “I think so.”

  “Grab that too.”

  The idea of climbing a ladder and standing twenty feet above the ground so he could install a new bulb made his stomach flip. If those things came for him, he would have no means to defend himself. Just having one of them clip the ladder would be enough to send him careening to the earth.

  A broken leg tonight would mean certain death.

  Lance looked back at the fire, making sure everyone was still safe there.

  A handful of people had created torches of their own, tossing them toward the tree line as a means of extending their circle of light.

  The Vladdies continued to retreat, even as the firing from the helicopter subsided. Lance hoped they weren’t shooting less because they were running out of rounds.

  “Eifort, you go with Cass. I’ll meet you back here in two minutes.”

  As they disappeared around the side of the shed, Lance stepped inside. He flipped the switch beside the door, lighting a dim bulb hanging from a wire in the middle of the ceiling.

  The rear wall was covered in shelving that held gardening tools, fuses, and mechanical parts. Boxes of smaller, ordinary light bulbs were on the left, but none would fit the large lamps in the field. He rifled through them, looking for something big enough.

  Lance had never done much of the maintenance around the compound, leaving that to the people who knew what the hell they were doing. He raged at himself for not bringing Joe or any of the other handymen out there.

  A long, blue box sat on the top shelf with a picture of a bright streetlamp on the front.

  Lance grinned and reached for it.

  Then the door exploded open behind him.

  Chapter 12

  The racket of falling tools and splintering wood filled the shed.

  Lance spun, bringing his pistol up at the same time.

  A Vladdie hopped onto a workbench by the door and shrieked at him. The dim light in the middle of the room had already begun to affect its skin. Its flesh seemed to squirm under the light, as if it was trying to escape even though the beast didn’t move.

  Lance fired in fear, not taking the time to properly aim. The round punched a hole in the wood beside the Vladdie’s head. The boom of the gunshot was concentrated in the small space, rocking his ears.

  It lunged at him in a quick, explosive movement. Its arms reached out to him as he dove to the side, landing on cardboard boxes covered with tarps.

  The Vladdie flew into the shelving, rending the metal in the middle. Boxes and parts fell from the collapsing shelves, covering its massive shoulders with glass, wood, and metal.

  It stood from the destroyed storage space and roared. Its eyeless face angled toward Lance, nostrils flaring, ears slicked back like a mad dog’s.

  Lance shot it in the neck.

  Arterial spray spurted across the wall. It staggered forward, one hand going to the wound in its neck, the other slamming into the floor to keep it from falling over. Fangs appeared as the mouth worked soundlessly.

  Blood pattered to the floor.

  Lance fired again, putting another round into its forehead.

  The brute took one more weak-kneed step backward before collapsing into the rubble behind it. The concrete floor ran red.

  With a grunt, Lance pushed himself from the boxes. His ears rang from the shots, and he winced as he cupped them with his hands.

  Someone called his name from outside, but the sound seemed to come from a great distance.

  He tottered toward the Vladdie’s body, his equilibrium off.

  The box of large light bulbs sat on the floor, the top open, one side dented in.

  “Oh shit.” He barely made out his own voice as he bent down and grabbed the box.

  He heard the faint sound of glass tinkling as he rolled it over in his hands. His face tightened as he stared at the destroyed bulbs inside. What would they do now?

  Cass appeared in the doorway, calling his name.

  “What?” he asked. “I can’t hear you.”

  She stepped over the scattered gardening tools. Eifort stood behind her, watching the outside for movement.

  “I asked if you’re all right?”

  “My ears are ringing from shooting in here.” He held the box up. “And all the bulbs were destroyed.”

  “Goddamn it.” Cass stared at the box for a moment before moving closer to him. She grabbed his chin and turned his head, angling one of his ears closer to her mouth. “Fire. We need to start more fires.”

  He nodded and bent down, picked up his flare from the rubble under the dead body.

  Eifort raised her rifle and fired a few shots to the left. “We need to move!”

  They ran back to the cabin, holding their flares above their heads. Cass explained what happened to the bulbs as Lance stuck his fingers in his ears and wiggled them around. He didn’t expect that to help, but he didn’t know what else to do.

  The helicopter had stopped shooting, though it still circled the field, shining its powerful light along the woods.

  “What about one of the RVs?” Eifort asked.

  “What do you mean?” Cass looked over at the group of people by the fire. “You want to burn one of them?”

  “But that’s someone’s home,” Lance said.

  “It won’t be anyone’s home if we don’t survive a couple more hours.” Eifort pointed at a spot by the solar array. “If we douse it in gas and put it over there, the thing should burn for hours. That gives us two big fires and enough space between them for everyone to hide.”

  Lance and Cass exchanged a glance.

  “Let’s do it,” Cass said. “There are gas cans in front of the cabin.”

  The ringing in Lance’s ears subsided as they ran around the side of the house. He heard more shots coming from the group by the fire. They screamed and fired, cried and pleaded for help. The helicopter continued to circle above them without firing. Their ammunition must have run dry.

  Tossing his flare
to the ground a few yards away, Lance picked up a gas can, not wanting one to get too close to the other. He followed Cass across the field again, heading for the large bank of RVs, tents, and fuel tankers.

  Eifort pointed at an aging, beige RV. “That one is full of cardboard boxes with clothes and shoes. It will go up like an inferno.”

  Lance grimaced. They’d spent weeks stockpiling clothing and other necessities for the people there. Several women had gone through everything, organizing them by sizes and seasonal wear. It had made it easy for people to get stuff they needed.

  Burning it now meant so much time and effort had been wasted. But, as Eifort had said, none of that would matter if no one was alive in the morning.

  A flurry of inhuman cries came from behind them. Lance dared to peek over his shoulder and nearly tripped when he saw a dozen Vladdies circling around to their right, skirting along the edge of the light provided by the flares. They danced in and out of the glow, moving closer each time.

  Cass reached the RV and threw the door open, jumping the three stairs leading inside. Eifort and Lance followed. He closed the door behind him just as something slammed into the side of the vehicle.

  It rocked on its springs as a large dent popped into the wall.

  Piles of clothing covered the table and bench seats. Shoes littered the aisle and filled the bathroom. Coats were stuffed into the storage compartments lining both sides of the RV.

  Cass stumbled her way through the shoes, kicking boots and sandals aside.

  The door beside Lance quaked as a Vladdie rammed it. The small glass window shattered as a swollen, veined arm snaked inside.

  Claws shredded Lance’s shirt as the hand reached for him. He fell over, his lower back smashing against a counter, sending a bolt of pain into his left leg.

  Eifort put three rounds into the door, punching holes in it.

  The beast wailed as its arm retracted through the window, flesh slicing on pieces of glass.

  The vehicle rumbled to life as Cass hopped onto the driver’s seat, cranking the ignition before she’d even settled in. Her foot worked the gas pedal as she yanked the transmission into gear.

  Piles of clothing shifted when the RV jerked forward. Shoes fell from the counters, covering Lance. Eifort tumbled to the floor, the flare falling from her hand, blackening a tennis shoe.

  Cass turned the headlights on.

  A swarm of Vladdies retreated from in front of the vehicle, fleeing to the safety of the shadows.

  “There are a ton of them out there!” Cass spun the wheel left.

  More clothing fell on top of Lance, hiding him from view for a moment.

  He heard the shattering of glass.

  Cass cried out.

  His hands dug at the shirts and pants, tossing them aside as he fought to extricate himself. Eifort waged her own battle with the garments, struggling to get her rifle free from a pair of overalls.

  The windshield was spider-webbed in front of Cass.

  A large hole gaped in the center with a Vladdie’s distorted face in it. It shrieked at her, spittle flying into the cabin of the RV.

  Cass slammed the brakes just as Lance found his footing. He flew forward, crashing into Eifort, sending them both sprawling again.

  The Vladdie lost its grip on the hood, its momentum flinging it to the ground. It fell in front of the headlights as Cass flipped the high beams on.

  It squealed and raised its arms in an attempt to shield itself. Two bumps rocked the left side of RV as it drove over the vampire, smashing its torso. Its cries died as the rear wheel did its business.

  “Dump the gas,” Cass yelled.

  “With the way you’re driving? Fuck that!” Lance grabbed Eifort’s hand and hauled her to her feet. “One of the flares would blow us all to hell.”

  Cass floored the accelerator again. “We’re already in hell! Do it!”

  Lance searched the aisle for the gas can, but didn’t see it. He hadn’t even realized that he’d dropped it until Cass had mentioned it. His pistol was gone too. The piles of clothing continued to shift as the RV drove around the massive bonfire.

  While Eifort picked up her flare with her left hand and doused a small fire with her right, Lance tore at the clothing. They were approaching the spot they’d picked out to set the vehicle on fire, and he didn’t have the accelerant ready.

  A vampire burst through the side window above the table, sprinkling glass throughout the clothing. The thickness of its chest caught between the windowsills, wedging it in shards of glass. It howled as thick rivulets of crimson ran down the wall beneath it.

  Eifort raised her rifle as it swung one of its arms at her.

  Claws cut into the flesh of her left shoulder.

  She cried out and spun sideways from the impact.

  The infected struggled to pull itself inside, the window remnants cutting deeper into its stomach and chest.

  Lance’s fingers sliced on jagged shards as he continued searching through the clothes. A piece of glass dug into his palm. Pain resonated into his forearm.

  Grit his teeth.

  Kept digging.

  His fingers brushed cool metal.

  He reached further in and found the handle of the can. Grunting as his sliced hand grabbed hold, he spun around and swung as hard as he could. The nearly full can slammed into the distended maw of the Vladdie.

  Teeth shattered, lacerating its gums and lips.

  It swiped at him, catching the side of the can with such force that one of its claws pierced the side. Gas spilled down Lance’s legs and soaked into the clothes around his feet.

  Eifort regained her composure and raised her rifle again.

  “No!” Lance saw her finger twitch and braced himself, expecting the gas can to explode in his hands.

  The gun belched fire in the dark cabin and the vampire fell from the window, blood flowing from a dozen cuts and bullet holes.

  The explosion didn’t come.

  Lance blew out a deep breath. “Get to the front—there is gas everywhere. Keep the flare with you.”

  Cass slammed the brakes, and they skidded in the grass.

  Lance reached out and grabbed the bench seats to keep from losing his balance again. The glass, still stuck in his palm, sliced deep into the meat of his hand.

  “Get out of here!” Lance took the can to the rear of the RV and upended it, pouring gas over everything in sight.

  “Let’s go, dumbass!” Cass opened the driver’s side door and jumped out.

  “I’m leaving the flare on the seat for you.” Eifort slid behind the wheel and opened fire before she’d even stepped outside.

  With most of the gas covering the middle and rear of the vehicle, Lance tossed it to the floor and staggered his way across the clothing and shoes. He was grateful that he’d worn heavy boots as he made his way to the front. His ankles held strong.

  More gunfire came from outside.

  As Lance stepped between the seats, a thought flitted through his mind. Wasn’t it the fumes of gasoline that were explosive and not the liquid itself? He’d been told that as a child, but he wasn’t sure how true it was.

  He paused, his nose twitching at the stink coming from his pants and hands. His eyes locked on the flare as he stood there. If he got any closer, would he catch on fire?

  “Shit.” Lance turned and stepped into the aisle again, intent on going out the side door.

  As he reached the table, the door burst inward, the hinges giving way as it smashed against the steps.

  A Vladdie climbed over it, saliva dripping from mangled lips. A small tuft of tangled hair hung over its empty eye sockets.

  “Shit,” Lance whispered.

  The beast’s head jerked around at the sound of his voice. It bellowed at him and jumped the rest of the way into the RV, stopping a few feet in front of him as he backed up. Its hooked, gnarly feet dug into the clothing beneath it.

  Lance’s head bumped into the console above the dash.

  The flare fli
ckered beside him, burning a hole in the seat.

  The stink of gas and searing fabric stung his nostrils.

  He glanced at the passenger side door, saw it was locked and closed. The driver’s side was wide open.

  Cass stood fifteen feet outside, screaming for him to hurry. She waved for him to come to her. Eifort fired at the side of the vehicle.

  The Vladdie stepped closer.

  “Fuck it.”

  Lance grabbed the flare.

  His hand caught fire. The legs of his pants went up a split second later. There was no pain.

  “Suck on this.” Lance tossed the flare at the clothing under the vampire.

  He leapt headfirst over the seat, diving through the open door.

  The pressure of the flames bursting through the inside of the RV seemed to pull at the air around him as he crashed onto the ground.

  Then he felt the heat.

  The Vladdie shrieked as it stumbled into the front of the vehicle. It thrashed against the seats and dash, slapping at the flames engulfing it.

  A small explosion rocked the back of the RV as the fire ignited what remained in the gas can.

  Lance staggered to his feet and ran to Cass as the flames seared his hands and legs. Cass cried out, discarding her axe and flare.

  He dropped to the grass and rolled over and over.

  The agony set in as he stuffed his hands into his armpits to extinguish the flames.

  Chapter 13

  The smell of his own flesh burning brought bile into Lance’s throat.

  He stared up at the sky as Cass and Eifort patted his legs, putting the flames out. The helicopter looped across his field of view before disappearing over the trees.

  His hands felt cold and hot at the same time. The sensation reminded him of a time as a child when he’d stuck his finger on the red-hot end of a cigarette lighter in his mother’s car. The agony had lasted for nearly twenty minutes as he’d swirled his digit in a glass of ice water.

  How long would this last?

  Smoke blotted some of the stars above him as he watched them twinkle.

  Flames from the RV licked the sky as the inferno grew. The Vladdie in the front seat fell out of the driver’s door and collapsed in the grass. Its skin bubbled and popped and sizzled. The stink wafting from it overpowered the stench of Lance’s well-done legs.