The Hunt Chronicles (Book 2): Revelation (15 page)

I did not give either of them time to attack, though.  My rifle was up, safety off, and finger at the ready before either one could move toward the other.

My shot hit the pit bull between the eyes and its head jerked to the right as a small chunk of flesh flew back twenty feet behind it.

I looked up, not wasting any more time on the dead dog.  I knew I had killed it.

I aimed at the hill we had just run down.  There were two more dogs lying on the ground.  One of them was squirming, not quite dead.  I caught a glimpse of the large Rottweiler before it ran back over the crest of the hill and out of sight.

Boomer wasn’t done.  He started to run toward the hill.             

“Boomer, no!” I shouted at him.

He stopped and glared back at me, hesitant to obey.  After a moment, though, he ducked his head in submission and returned to my side.  I noticed blood had matted the fur of his back where the pit bull had latched onto him.

“Let’s go!” Chad called.

“Come on,” I told Boomer, and nudged him toward the boat.  He obediently followed alongside me as we jogged to the shore.

When we climbed into the small, sixteen foot boat, I could hear whimpering from the wounded dog on the hill.

“Jenna… can you take care of that?”  My breath was short, still pumped up from the adrenaline.

“Yeah, darlin’.  You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.  Just…  don’t let the dog suffer.”  I slumped down at the rear of the boat.

“Fuck that, man, let that thing die a slow and—”

“Shut up, Chad,” Jenna said as she took aim.

I looked over and saw the dog scrambling to get up.  I wasn’t sure what the breed was, or if it was just a mutt, but the large dog’s shoulder was bleeding profusely.   The brown and white shaggy fur had been changed to a crimson color around the wound.

BANG!

Jenna’s bullet slammed into the canine’s chest.  It flopped backward, landing motionless on the ground. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Jenna breathed.  I grabbed an oar and helped Chad push off from the shore.

“Jenna, do you mind taking the oar for a minute while I check out Boomer?” I asked when we made it to the middle of the river.

“Sure thing,” she said and switched spots with me.

Boomer was still panting heavily, staring at the river bank.  I moved his fur and saw multiple puncture marks where the pit bull had latched onto him.  I grabbed a small towel and dumped some of my canteen water over it.

“That was pretty intense,” Chad remarked as I wiped the blood from Boomer’s fur.  “Is he okay?”

“I think so,” I answered.  Boomer didn’t even flinch as I cleaned the wound.

Chad reached into his pack and pulled out a cell phone.  Occasionally, he would record events or conversations.  He thought he was making a documentary, something that would tell the tale of our survival to future generations.

“How many were there?” Chad asked, pointing the lens at me.

“At least a dozen.  I’m going to talk to Fish about beefing up our hunting teams.  If the packs of wild dogs are growing, three- and four-man teams are going to get hurt.”  I pushed his arm away.  “Come on man, that’s annoying.”

Chad shrugged and put the camera away.  “I should have had it out when I shot the pig.”

Jenna laughed.  “Can’t shoot your gun and the camera at the same time, dip shit.”

I ignored them as I finished cleaning Boomer’s coat and scratched his head.

“Thanks buddy,” I whispered in his ear.  He turned and licked my face and neck, covering me in slobber.

“You know, if you would get the balls to ask Jenna out, you wouldn’t have to resort to kissing your dog,” Chad said, chuckling.

I flushed in embarrassment.  I admit I had a little thing for Jenna.  However, the stress of our new living conditions and the fact that I didn’t know if I was carrying the virus stopped any attempt at forming a romantic relationship with anyone, especially with the cute and wild southern girl.

“Leave him alone, Chad,” Jenna said seriously.  “Just because no one wants to be with your felon ass, doesn’t mean you have to embarrass him.”

“Take it easy, Jenna.  I’m fine.  He’s just kidding around,” I said hurriedly as Chad’s face flushed.  Chad had grown on me in the past few weeks.  He and I were almost constantly together when we made runs into the city.  Socially, Chad was just awkward.  Going to prison for ten years at the young age of eighteen will do that to you.

“So, Boomer is okay then?” Jenna asked after a moment of uneasy silence.

“Yeah.  Just a couple bite marks,” I replied, stroking the canine’s lower back.

“Good, then you can get your lazy ass over here and paddle,” she grinned.

I laughed.  “All right.  Just keep the boat steady.”  I moved to the side where Jenna was sitting and took the oar.  She wobbled uneasily to the rear of the boat and sat down next to Boomer.

“Man, I hope it’s dead weather again tomorrow,” Chad sighed as he rowed.  Dead weather was what we called days like that day.  Cloudy and no rain.  That meant the zombies would most likely be out in full force, scavenging for anything living.

“I thought all you Runners liked going into the city,” Jenna teased.  “You know, a chance to prove your manhood and all that.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t mind going on runs,” Chad responded.

“You like it?” Jenna questioned.  “I’ve gone twice since we rescued those people from the post office.  Dread it every time.”

“It’s not going into the city he hates,” I joined in.  “It’s Cecil.  Man has it out for him.”  Cecil, as the Platoon Leader of the Runners, went into the city on just about every occasion.  The former police detective would sometimes treat Chad as if he were still in prison.

Chad looked over at me.  “He’s an asshole, pure and simple.”  He shook his head, “Man, I did my time.  Shit, I was out of prison before all this crap happened.  I swear, last week, the man tried to kill me.  Said he had my back and sent me into a house with three dead-heads.  The pig never even crossed the doorway, just watched me almost get my ass killed.”

“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad,” I argued.

“You weren’t there, man.  I’m telling you, the pig wants me dead.”

After Cecil became comfortable with our group and Campbell made him the Runner Platoon Leader, he did have somewhat of a personality change.  He grew harsher, especially on Chad.  With me, though, he seemed nice, almost as if he was sucking up.  I had decided it was because of my relationship with Fish. 

“Don’t worry, Chad, I have your back,” I said grinning.

Chad just rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, but who has yours?”

“You do,” I laughed.

“Damn straight, buddy.” Chad patted my shoulder.

“Do you two need a minute alone?” Jenna giggled.

Our trip didn’t last much longer.  We paddled the small boat toward the long chain-link fence that protected Camp Holly’s riverside perimeter.  The fence connected to the cinderblock walls.  Near the north side of the fence was a gate which allowed our various water craft out of the enclosed area.

The two guards posted at the river entrance greeted us and opened the gate.  One of them was Sam. 

Sam had a thing with shirts.  He never wore them unless he was going on a run.  It might have been because he sweat profusely.  His dark black skin was always glistening as if he had just stepped out of the rain.

The other was a ‘Greenie’.  I hadn’t learned all the newcomers names yet, and would refer to them as that until I got to know them better.

We had more than just boats with oars.  Out in the swamps, we were not afraid to use boat motors.  They had never attracted a zombie and if scabs had been alerted, they had never shown themselves.  However, Jenna was not a fan of the using the noisy engines when she was going hunting.  I had argued that we could still have used a motor for the trip back, but after a quick insult to my manhood, I gave up on the subject.

We parked the boat near a group of jet skis and unloaded our gear and the prize swine.

“Show me,” Sam ordered as he walked up to the small dock on the bank of the river.

We stripped down to our underwear.  It was common practice whenever someone left the confines of Camp Holly that we showed proof we had not been bitten when we returned. 

Luckily, my wounds had healed up and were easily passed off as old scars.  I’m sure if anyone examined it long enough, they would make out the ring of scars where I had been bitten months earlier. 

“Alright,” Sam said after his inspection, “You’re good to go.  Save me a leg from that pig, Jenna.”  Sam smiled and walked back to the gate.

“You coming with us?” Chad asked me as he and Jenna headed toward the slaughter tent. 

“Naw, I’m going to go see Fish.  I had enough fun last week cleaning that alligator.”

“Alright.  See you at dinner, Christian.”  He and Jenna walked off through the camp.

The camp itself was bustling with activity.  We were the only group out, so everyone else was busy working on their various tasks and duties.

Boomer and I walked past the main hall where the children were all in class.  The east side of the building was open with just a screen protecting it from the elements.  Cheryl, the elderly daycare worker, was teaching arithmetic. 

Campbell wanted to keep the children busy. 

Cheryl, Jada, and a few Greenies were their babysitters.  Besides learning English and math, the children were taught basic survival skills.  Those classes were usually given by guest speakers like DJ or Kolin or someone with those particular skills. 

Fish also made sure that the kids did their part.  There was some argument as to the morals of putting the kids to work, which Fish won of course.  There was no such thing as a Child Labor Law now.  The kids were tasked to make simple things like Poppers. 

Poppers actually didn’t ‘pop’, but were small doodads that made noise for a brief period of time.  Mostly made up of junk, each one looked different.  But they did what they needed to do in a tight spot, drawing the zombies to them and allowing whoever used it to get to where they needed to go safely. 

I continued into the main part of the compound.  In the center was a large tower we had constructed the second week we were there.  There were no less than two guards in it at a time.  From there, you could see the whole camp and as far as the horizon outside.

“Christian!” I heard a familiar, annoying voice call out.

Boomer heard it too, spun around and charged at Karina.

“Hey Karina,” I sighed.

“Did you catch anything?” She asked as Boomer stood on his hind legs, forearms over her shoulders and tongue wiping around the teenagers face.  “Yuck!  Boomer down!” she commanded.

After a moment, the canine obeyed.

“Well?” she asked again.

“Yeah, Chad shot a pig.”

“Awesome.  Why won’t they let me go?  I’ve been asking to go hunting, but Kat says I have my own job to worry about.  Everyone else—”

“Those are the rules, Karina, you know that,” I reminded her. 

Karina and I had fallen into a sibling relationship since our trek from hell through the city.  We would usually eat our meals together and she would tell me about her day.  She still annoyed me, but in a sisterly way.  Though she was far younger than my real sister, Trinity, the resemblance our relationships had was uncanny.  It was nice to feel like I had family at Camp Holly. 

“So I can pull guard duty, but I can’t leave the walls,” she continued in a whiney tone.  “This sucks.”

She continued to complain as we made our way past the motor pool.

We had several trucks parked in the enclosed area in front of the Camp.  The main gate was made up of the bus we had liberated from the post office and layers of sheet metal.  Near it was  Vader.  Cecil had named the police APC he acquired after the Sith Lord.  He thought calling it “APC” just didn’t give it the character it deserved.

Next to Vader was Big Red.  It barely resembled a fire truck by that time.  DJ had welded all sorts of armor and contraptions to it, completing the road warrior appearance he had desired. 

Preacher and DJ were standing next to Big Red and fiddling with the gadgets that controlled the tank.  Enrique, carrying a one inch thick black hose, walked past us.

“Hey Karina,” I said, cutting her off in mid-sentence.  I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was talking about.

“What?” she asked, a little annoyed I didn’t let her finish whatever random conversation she was holding with herself.

“Can you take Boomer to see Daniel?  He got bit by a wild dog.  I think he’s fine, but it still wouldn’t hurt to get him checked out.”

She could tell I was trying to shoo her away, but she shrugged and called Boomer to her side as she headed off to see the paramedic.

I watched them leave and then made my way over to Big Red.  I figured if anyone knew where Fish was, DJ would.

“Drop that end in the tank, Enrique,” DJ ordered as he fastened the black hose onto a pipe located on the fire truck’s control board.