The Hunger (Book 2): Consumed (16 page)

Thick, hulky arms dragged three people into the darkness of the forest.  Lance caught a flash of translucent flesh before the arms disappeared into the shadows.  The victims screamed for help.  Their cries cut off seconds later.

Tony still held his hand in the air as he looked around in confusion.  The man had grown so arrogant, so relaxed in his compound, that he couldn’t fathom someone attacking him.

Lance hoped he could see the king’s first knight fall.

The back window of the truck chained to his feet had crimson gore sliding down it.

The guards who had held Cass down were on the ground, clutching at wounds in their torsos.

Cass was gone.

Brown had his feet under him.  He hauled Eifort to hers.  How he’d freed his hands, Lance didn’t know.  The two of them sprinted through the mayhem that consumed the clearing, weaving their way between fleeing people.

One of the guards plowed into Brown, shoving him sideways against Eifort. The guard tackled Brown, landing beside him.  They rolled on the ground, throwing sloppy punches at each other.

Lance swiveled his head around, searching for Cass.

Tony spotted the muzzle flares in the woods and dropped Cass’ axe to the ground.  He pulled his pistol from its holster and dropped to a knee. Fire belched from the barrel as he unloaded in their direction.

Hot brass flipped through the air, landing beside Lance in the grass.

The pistol clicked empty.  Tony ejected the clip and reached for another.

Cass exploded from a hiding spot in front of the truck chained to Lance’s hands.  She sprinted at Tony’s back, her face distorted in anger.

Tony lifted a second clip to his pistol and was about to jam it home when Cass leapt onto his back.

She looped her hands over his head and yanked backward, bringing the chain of the handcuffs against his throat.  Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding her in place.

Tony stumbled forward, the pistol and clip falling from his hands.  He grabbed at the chain across his throat, trying to get a finger under it.

Cass screamed in fury and pulled harder, leaning backward as far as she could.

The chain dug into Tony’s skin, reddening the surrounding flesh.

The blood trickling from Cass’ nose accelerated, coursing down her lips, flying from her mouth as she roared again.

Tony’s face flushed as he spun around, waving his arms over his head as he reached for Cass.  Veins bulged on his forehead.

“Tear his fucking head off!”  Lance kicked his legs again, but couldn’t free them.  He watched helplessly as Cass choked the broad, powerful Tony.

Ralph’s lead henchman jerked forward, bending at the waist.  He snapped back in an explosive movement and brought the crown of his head against Cass’.

She saw it coming at the last second and turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut.

The sound of their heads bonking together reminded Lance of a baseball bat making contact with a fastball.

Cass’ body slumped, her muscles going lax.

Tony shrugged her off and fell to his knees, gulping in air.

Cass landed on her side and slowly got to a seated position.  Her eyes gazed off into the distance as if she didn’t know where she was.

“Cass!  Wake up!  Cass!”  Lance screamed as loud as he could, hoping he could pull her out of the fog she waded through.

Her legs wobbled as she tried to stand.

“Doc!  Eifort!  Cut me free!”  Lance looked over at the fight between Brown and the guard. 

The guard had rolled on top of him and was raining down uncontrolled blows.  With only one good arm, Brown struggled to block the punches.  Eifort crawled on the ground, moving away from the fighting men.  Blood matted her hair.

Cass staggered sideways and reached for her axe.  Her fingers brushed the handle, but she stumbled and fell in front it.

A bullet whizzed by Lance’s face so close that his hair blew away from his forehead.  He flinched and faced the area near the garage.  More muzzle flares flashed from the woods around it.  The few remaining guards by the cabin returned fire, but they were vastly outgunned.

Tony coughed, rubbing his throat with a beefy hand.  He looked up at Cass, his eyes narrowed to slits.  “Bitch!”  His voice was little more than a croak.

Shaking her head, short, blonde hair bobbing around, Cass reached for the axe again.  She grabbed hold and jammed the top of it into the ground, using it to push herself up again.  Her warped balance stabilized as she braced herself with the axe, leaning on it to keep from falling over.

“Get it together!”  Lance looked back at Doc Brown.

The guard still had the upper hand, but the volume of his blows lessened as he ran out of gas.  Eifort stopped crawling and grabbed something from the ground in front of her.

She rolled over and sat up, raising a rifle.  The gun bucked against her shoulder, almost knocking her backward.

The man on top of Brown toppled over, the side of his head gone.

Brown lay in place, exhausted.  His chest rose and fell as he took in heavy breaths.  Eifort got up and made her way back to him.

Something moved behind them, crashing through the shadows beside the greenhouse.  Lance saw a flash of translucent skin and bulging musculature.

“Eifort!  By the greenhouse!”

Tony picked his pistol up from the grass and searched the area around it for the clip. He spotted it a few feet away.

Cass growled and finally lifted the axe.  She held it in both hands and focused on Tony.

“Time to die.”  She stalked forward, her knees bent, weight on the balls of her feet.

Tony squared off in front of her, his eyes going to the axe.  “You’re going to need more than that to kill me.”

“We’ll see.”

Cass moved to her right, stepping beside the clip.  She kicked it with her boot, sending it toward the truck at Lance’s feet.  She took a quick step and feinted with the axe, getting Tony to flinch.

They circled each other, slowly closing the distance between them.

Lance blinked sweat out of his eyes as he watched.  He knew Cass was tough as nails, but Tony was a lunatic.  A muscle-bound, militant lunatic.

Tony struck first.

He threw the pistol at her, making her dodge to the right.  He drove forward, targeting her waist with his shoulder.

Cass stepped back and threw a kick at his lowered face.  It connected flush, but didn’t have enough power to put him down.

He caught her foot and yanked it up, trying to get her to fall over backward.

She pivoted on her other foot and yanked her leg free.  Using her momentum, she spun around, letting the axe swing in a wide arc.

Tony jumped back, the blade slicing inches from his chest.

He smiled at her.

A burst of gunfire by the greenhouse caught Lance’s attention. He peeled his eyes from Cass’ fight to see Eifort unloading her rifle at a bulky shadow in the trees.

Her gun clicked empty and she tossed it aside as she backpedaled to Brown.  He was still on his back, but he reached up as she approached and took her hand.  She hauled him to his feet and they walked backward, keeping their eyes on the mass moving in the darkness before them.

Tony feinted left, getting Cass to react by swinging the axe again.  He dodged it with ease and lunged at her, throwing a haymaker punch at her face.

She ducked down, letting the blow sail overhead, but his shoulder rammed into her.  She sprawled on her ass, but managed to hold onto the axe.  Tony ran past her, snatching his pistol from the ground as he went for the rear truck.

Eifort and Brown limped over, their steps sluggish from the damage they’d taken.  Brown’s eyes were distant and bloody.

“Untie me!”  Lance wriggled in his bindings for emphasis.

Eifort bent down and grabbed the chain, unhooking it from the rope around his ankles.

“I don’t have a knife!”

Lance nodded at the dead body of one of the guards.  “Take one from him!”

She ran over and found a hunting knife in a guard’s pocket.  As she worked on the thick rope around his legs, Lance looked up at the doc, about to shout for him to help Cass.  When he saw the spacey way Brown gazed around the field, Lance knew that sending him toward Tony would get the man killed.

“Eifort, hurry!  Cass can’t beat him by herself.”

“I’m trying!”

Tony stood by the rear truck, searching the ground for the clip as Cass ran up behind him.

She swung again, but he dodged the blade with little effort.  His grin grew wider every time she missed.  He was getting her timing down.

Lance felt the tie around his legs loosen and kicked them wildly, throwing the rope off his ankles.  He dug his heels in and pushed his body toward the truck by his head.

The chain attached to his cuffs loosened from the slack and he grabbed it, unhooking his arms.  His battered body strained as he got up, using what little energy he had left.  Pins and needles stabbed at his feet as blood rushed back into the starving tissue.

He snagged the knife from Eifort and rushed forward, staggering as his ankles failed to bend properly from having their circulation cut off.

Tony was directly ahead, with Cass off to the left.  Lance ignored her and focused on the beefy man, knife held in front of his chest.  He thrust the blade out when he was in range, aiming for Tony’s stomach.

Tony caught his wrist with a vice-like grip.  Pain ran up Lance’s arm as Tony twisted.  He grabbed the knife and tore it from Lance’s hand as he shoved him to the ground.

Lance fell to his side before rolling to his back.  Tony stood above him, his shadow flowing over Lance, silhouetting his features.

“Amateur.”  Tony flipped he knife in his hand, letting the blade jut out of the bottom of his fist.  “The woman put up a better fight than you.”

It was Lance’s turn to smile.  “I wasn’t trying to put up a fight—I just had to be a good distraction.”

“What?”  Tony spun on his heels, whipping his head around.

Cass’ axe embedded in his chest with a crunch as it smashed its way through bone. One side of the blade went the entire way in, only stopping when the wooden handle was flush with his muscled torso.

The knife fell from Tony’s hand.  He stared down at the axe sticking from his chest, his eyes round circles of disbelief.

He fell to his ass, looking from Cass to Lance.  His mouth worked, but no words came out.

Lance stood up with a groan.  He thought his ribs might be broken.

Tony collapsed to his back.  A line of blood ran from his mouth, flowing down his cheek.

“Don’t worry,” Cass said.  “I’ll send your boyfriend Ralph to meet you in hell soon.”

Eifort jogged over to them.  She glared at Tony as the life drained from his eyes.  “That guy was a real douche.”

Lance coughed, holding his swollen ribs.  “I thought I was supposed to be the wise ass around here?”

He realized that the gunfire had abated, leaving the clearing quiet.  A few people whispered to one another from hiding places around the cabin or by the trucks, but otherwise, silence hung in the air.

Lance turned to the woods, holding a hand up to block the glare from the overhead lamps.  He didn’t know who was shooting from the trees, or even if they were friendly, but he was aware that he would be in at least two pieces if they hadn’t helped.

If they were another crazy faction at war with the Minutemen, then they were screwed.  Lance, Cass, Eifort, and Brown had little fight left in them.  If someone came out of the woods to claim the spoils of war, there was little they could do about it.

“Is everyone OK?” Brown came up behind them.  Though his gait was still unsteady, his eyes had cleared.

“I’m fine,” Cass said.  She used her forearm to wipe the blood running from her nose.  “Could use a beer though.”

Most of the guards were dead.  The bodies of both the wounded and the deceased littered the clearing.  Those still alive cried out for help that wouldn’t come.  Even if Doc Brown could save them, Lance wouldn’t let him.

He only had an inkling of what had happened in this camp, but it was enough to tell him that everyone involved deserved to die.

“Lance?” Brown asked. “How about you?”

Lance didn’t answer.  He thought about the bite on his forearm—the death sentence that hung over his head—and decided to wait before he told anyone.  They still had to deal with the people in the trees.

“I’m fine.”

The crowd behind them slowly stepped back into sight behind the house.  Couples wrapped their arms around one another, watching Lance and his friends in fear and awe.

They had toppled Tony and his soldiers.

Or rather, the people in the woods had.

Cass lifted Lance’s arm and put it on her shoulders, taking some of his weight off his feet.  He gave her a small smile and kissed her forehead, tasting the salt covering her skin.

“Who’s out there?” he called.

They waited, listening as someone worked their way through the woods.  Twigs and leaves trampled underfoot.

A handful of men, all camouflaged with dark streaks on their faces and hands, emerged from the tree line.  They held rifles against their shoulders, but the business ends were pointed at the ground.

They moved slowly, their heads scanning around for more threats.

Lance stood by Tony’s body and waited.  These men would either kill them, or they wouldn’t, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Is the doctor alive?” one of the men asked.

“What?” Lance held his hand up again, blotting the lights.

“Is the doctor
alive
?”

The men moved closer.  Most of them had graying hair under camouflaged caps.  A few had ample midsections.  The group splintered into two factions, one going toward either side of the area behind the house.  One moved to the back door of the cabin and peered inside.

The man asking for Brown separated from the rest and jogged over to Lance.

“Well?”  As the man moved closer, Lance saw who it was.

Nathaniel.

“What are you doing here?” Lance wanted to hug him.

“Looks like I just saved your ass. What the hell happened?  I showed up in time to see you about to be drawn and quartered.”