The Lasting Hunger

by Dennis Larsen

  “What do you make of this?” Clayton asked, looking at Cory.

  “I don’t know but we’re about to find out,” Cory replied with a wink. C&C bracketed the entryway, waiting for the women to cover their backs and Kirk to take up a position across the street. “On three, Clayton – you go high and I’ll go low. You ready?”

  “Always,” the gangly farmer replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Ladies, give us a second, and then follow us in.”

  “Roger that,” Katie confirmed, followed quickly by a shrill ‘Yup’ from the other female commando.

  Tensions ran high as Cory leaned in far enough to see through the recently cleaned glass door and tried the latch. It was locked. Clayton quickly followed, finding his side also locked and nothing visible through the glass but an orderly foyer. “Shoot it out?” Clayton questioned, pressing his back against the brick siding.

  “Kinda spoils the element of surprise, don’t ya think?” Cory replied, waving at Kirk to join them. “Kirk, take your crew around to the right and we’ll swing left. There’s got to be a door or window we can use without having to shoot these out.”

  A short distance around, and on the northern exposure of the building, a window was closed but unlocked. Pressing the bottom of the window created a gap too narrow for any of the adults to pass through. “Clayton, no way any of us are getting in there. Hustle and get Rod to bring the kids up. Dude might be able to wiggle through and let the rest of us in.”

  “His mom is gonna kill us if he gets hurt, you know,” Clayton said, gritting his teeth to emphasize his point.

  “What she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her. Right?” Cory said, making eye contact with the ladies, before shifting his gaze back to Clayton.

  “Guess so,” his taller friend replied. “I’ll be right back.”

  By the time Rod and the boys had run the distance to the open window, Kirk and company had joined them as well.

  “Did Clayton fill you in?” Cory asked Rod.

  “Yeah. I’m not thrilled about the idea.”

  “You have a better suggestion? All he has to do is slip through and get to the main doors. They’re not chained so he should be able to just release the latch,” Cory explained.

  “I can do it. I know I can,” Dude said, enthusiastically. “I’ll be careful and quiet.”

  Rod hesitated, weighing the options before he sided with Cory, Clayton and the boy. “You be quick. Once you’re through the window there should be a hallway that runs to your right. Work your way down it until you see us at the main door. If you get in trouble double back and Kirk will be here to help you out.”

  Rod instructed C&C’s squad to form up on the main entrance before Dude made his entry. Seconds later, Rod lifted the thin youngster and slipped his legs through the marginal opening. As his head narrowly popped through the gap, Boob caught his eye and mouthed a heartfelt ‘good luck’.

  Once inside, the boy crouched and listened, straining to concentrate while his heart raced. For a second he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and held his breath. Nothing…no sound, not even the movement of air. He exhaled, and then sucked a large gasp of breath back into his chest, almost making him dizzy. The air was stale, lifeless and dead, having no particular smell, but it was the quiet that pushed the boy’s imagination and heightened his fear. At the inner door, he paused, sensing a Harvester lurking just beyond his sight. Can’t stop – keep going, he thought, prying the heavy door wide enough for his eyes to explore. The darkened hallway was empty, void of furniture but for a few pictures hanging uniformly along cinderblock walls. Sunlight filtered through a single glass-paned door to his left, the light capturing hundreds of dust particles slowly sifting to the floor. To the right, and only a few feet away, the hallway angled sharply left, descending into blackness.

  Right? he questioned, desperately wanting to run for the light and the freedom that would most certainly lay beyond the door he could see. “No, stay to the plan,” he quietly whispered, imperceptibly nodding the acceptance of thought and action. Now! he shouted, the word echoing around in his head as he bolted through the door and into the darkness.

  “Shouldn’t he be here by now?” Clayton asked, his hands cupped to shield his eyes, and his face plastered to the glass.

  “Give him a sec. It’s pretty dark in there,” Cory said, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

  Suddenly, Clayton pulled back from the glass door and spun his rifle to his shoulder. “I’ve got movement to the left. Can’t tell if it’s Dude but he’s coming hard.”

  Cory dropped to a knee and pressed his face to the glass, unholstering his pistol in the same movement. “Can’t see…can’t see. Crap, Clayton get ready…” Tension sucked them to the edge, just as Cory recognized the mop of shaggy hair whipping from side-to-side. Dude held his ball cap tightly, pumping it at his side with each extended stride. At the doors, he slammed his 115 pounds against the slender aluminum bar, which swept the door aside, nearly knocking Clayton on his butt.

  “And he crosses the finish line, hat in hand and pee running down his legs,” Cory joked, wrapping his left arm around the boy and pulling him into a quick sideways bear-hug. “Good work, Dude. Guess you didn’t see anybody.”

  “Except the boogeyman,” Clayton chimed in.

  “Jerk,” Dude spit out, still trying to catch his breath. “It’s dark in there.”

  “Good work, Son,” Rod said, patting the boy on the shoulder. “Jeff, stay out here and watch things while we secure the building. “Here, hold Dude’s rifle until he catches his breath.”

  The security team swept into the building and peeled right and left, ultimately meeting up with Kirk’s group at the rear of the facility. Jeff and Dude anxiously waited for their turn to enter, periodically strolling to the road for a better look down the empty street. On a cement slab outside the main doors the boys spoke in hushed tones.

  “What was it like in there? Were you scared?” Boob asked.

  “Not really,” Dude lied, unconsciously lifting his shoulders and chest a little higher.

  “Bull!” Jeff snorted, playfully driving his shoulder against Dude’s.

  “Okay, a little. I could just see some 300 pound biker bearing down on me as I ran for it.”

  “I thought so, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “You know what Boob, it was kind of a rush. I mean, now that it’s over and I did it, I feel…I don’t know, kind of excited.”

  “That’s your adrenalin,” Jeff diagnosed. “I hope I get to do something cool today.”

  “You better be careful what you wish for,” Dude said over his shoulder, as he made another trek to the curb and back.

  Suddenly a voice called from inside the church. “Boob, Dude, come on in.”

  Chapter 6

  North of Inkom, Idaho, under the watchful eye of a crescent moon, a small band of men, women, and children carefully maneuvered a sagebrush-blistered hillside. Below them and winding south through the valley, Interstate 15 had been abandoned as a plausible escape route. Harvester patrols would have certainly stopped and detained them without a whit of understanding or mercy.

  Annie struggled to breathe, the slope nearly overcoming her desire to flee but she willed herself on. The price of turning back would be too great: torture and death for her, the other adults, and for the children…a sentence she dared not conceive. For a moment she paused, wheezing deeply, while vaguely recalling ancestral pioneers who had given and endured far more. Suddenly a hand clutched her elbow, an affirmation that she was not alone.

  “Annie, we must continue to move. It’ll be light before we know it,” an unusually thin-faced man, named Ben, whispered encouragingly. He leaned down to her, his dark hair and angular features just visible in the light of the moon. He had taken an immediate liking to Annie, convinced she was saving their lives. Patiently he waited for her, watching and allowing his deep-set, brown eyes to show nothing but compassion for the older woman.

  She turned and
mustered a faint smile, “I know…I know.” Ahead, dark humanly-shaped shadows weaved through the blackness, some much larger than others. They periodically stopped and hunkered down in the brush before moving on. “Are we the last?” Annie asked.

  “Yeah, everyone else should be ahead of us,” her helper assured.

  “Good. They have to watch the kids. We can’t let…” She cut her intended thought short; knowing tears would do her no good. “Come now. Give me a hand.”

  Supported by an oddly familiar, inner strength, Annie lifted and placed one foot ahead of the other. The dry, sand-like soil sucked at her feet, hindering their advance, but they trudged onward, two souls bound by a need to survive and protect.

  “Do you know this area?” Annie inquired. “I’m having a hard time seeing.”

  “The road – yes. This mountain – not so much,” he replied, without slowing their ascent. “I think if we can get to the tree-line, away from the main roads, we may stand a chance.”

  Annie mulled the frank assessment of their situation only briefly before replying. “You have to promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If I slow you down you’ll leave me and get The Normals to safety. You have to promise me,” she pleaded.

  “Come now, we’ve just begun…” he whispered, before Annie interrupted him.

  “Please, for the children – you must, for me.”

  The slender, but much taller man stooped and looked intently into the older woman’s face and tried to understand. Wrinkles, etched deep and long across her pale face, could not hide the sincerity in her request, nor could her quivering lip mask her fear. This woman, more of a stranger than a friend to any of them, had risked all and suddenly Ben understood the level of her commitment.

  “Annie, when my back is give out from carrying you and we can’t go another inch, I’ll think about leaving you behind – but not until.”

  She squeezed his hand and mouthed an inaudible, thank you.

  The band of desperate parents and Normals waited at the crest of the first hill for Annie and Ben. Nine adults knelt against the wind and shielded their children and one another as they waited. Hastily filled sheets, bags or anything that could hold food or water were secured around their torsos. The adolescents, six in total including a set of twins, were trying to put forth a brave face but dirty, tear-stained cheeks told a different story.

  As the last of the group crested the brushy hillside, a woman rushed to Ben and hugged him tightly. “I thought we’d lost you back there,” his companion said.

  “Nope, just bringing up the rear. Annie was kind enough to help me out,” he said, giving her a wink.

  “Where to now?” the woman asked, hoping Ben would have some plan, some miracle for their survival.

  He looked at the meager group of runaways and offered a short, silent prayer before he answered. Sound confident, he thought, even if I’m clueless. “Well, Annie and I were just discussing that. I think we stay together and away from the roads – at least until we’re further south. We can move at night and hide out during the day.”

  “Is this everybody?” Annie questioned. “Is this all the children?”

  Raymond, a one-eyed man, wearing bent glasses over a crudely made patch, answered in broken syllables, “Eer, far as we kin tell. Don’t know ’bout t’others.”

  “Others? What others?” Annie asked.

  “The people that live in town,” Ben clarified. “We don’t know much about them, but there could be some kids there too.”

  Annie’s heart sank, thinking that perhaps she’d not done enough. “Well, I guess there’s not much we can do about that now. I think if we…” Annie began.

  “Listen Annie, we’re grateful for you warning us and all, but how do we know what you’ve told us is true? Maybe we really had nothing to fear and now you’ve placed us all in real danger,” Ben’s mate suggested, causing the other parents to move in closer.

  Ben was quick to jump to Annie’s defense but was silenced with a wave of her hand. “You don’t know me, not really, and I don’t blame you for being skeptical. I’m an old woman who’s seen too much heartache and evil for one lifetime.” She paused and squinted to vaguely make out the faces of the parents and youth, which now surrounded her. “I may not know much and I may have led us all down a road to some serious trouble, but there’s one thing I do understand – Juanita Williams. She’s a hard woman. She won’t think twice about killing every last one of us to get what she wants.”

  “And what’s that?” one of the kids blurted out.

  “You,” Annie said, pointing back at the child. She knew it would scare each of The Normals, but they needed to be scared. They needed to fear Lady Williams more than the devil himself in order to stay alive.

  Ben stepped to the center of the band and placed a gentle hand on Annie’s shoulder. “She didn’t need to warn us. She could have stayed on and kept her mouth shut, but she didn’t.” He looked around the group and was glad to see some nodding heads. “That’s good enough for me and it should be for you. We move on until daylight,” he said, making sure to meet his companion’s stare.

  * * *

  Morning’s warm embrace enveloped Juanita, whose dreams carried her beyond earthly toil and mundane tasks. Crisp morning air was rapidly replaced by super-heated thermals, filling the bedroom with an unbearable stuffiness. Lady Williams cracked one, red-stained eye and rolled from her belly to back. The other eye slowly creaked open against a backdrop of sunlight and flare, constricting her pupils. She welcomed another morning, as she always did, with a frown and a need to be pampered, but today…today, something was different. Her eyes, now fully adjusted, gazed about, taking in the room. It appeared the same.

  What’s different? she wondered, straining to comprehend her world through a retreating fog. Sound…there’s no sound.

  “Well, for heaven’s sake. Annie!” she bellowed, drawing on an immediate rage. “Annie!” There was no reply. “She better pray she’s dead,” Juanita muttered, as she oddly twisted from the mattress and tried to plant her feet on the floor. In doing so, the sheet held one foot long enough to send her sprawling against a small chair and then the wall. A string of high-pitched, obscene curses rose from the toppled woman, drawing attention from a sentry a short distance away.

  Seconds later he stood in the doorway, calling her name. “Lady Williams, are you hurt?”

  “Do I look like I’m hurt?” she retorted sarcastically.

  “Get Annie and drag her sorry ass in here.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied, turning quickly to do her bidding.

  Juanita stumbled about for another minute, taking stock of the morning and her need to set things right. It was then, as she looked to clothe herself, she noticed the large pan and knife at her bedside. She picked them up and mulled over a possible explanation. It didn’t take long to imagine Annie standing over her, the pan raised, ready to strike a blow, but she’d been too weak – too afraid. “Pansy,” she hissed, as outrage flushed her face with hot, crimson blood.

  “She’s gone,” the whiskered sentry yelled from the doorway.

  “I know that, you idiot!” Juanita screamed, tossing the pan at the bewildered guard.

  “Looks like she took a few belongings and left the rest.”

  “Find her. Get Finn and hunt her down. Oh my…” A realization suddenly struck Juanita, blinding her with anger. “The Normals!” she angrily shouted. “The Normals – she’s taken The Normals. I’d bet my life on it. I want everybody up and moving.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I’m on it.”

  “I want a count. I want names. I want to know who we have to kill.”

  Chapter 7

  “I don’t get it,” Cory finally said, standing in the church’s kitchen.

  A sentry had been posted at each of six entrances, leaving Rod, C&C and the boys to make sense of the content. The group stood in the middle of the small but clean kitchen. Closed cupboards had been o
pened to display a plentiful array of food items, while others held neatly arranged rows of small glasses, plates and bowls. The refrigerator and other electrical appliances had not been used in years but only a fine layer of dust covered their surfaces. An empty trashcan, lined with a green plastic bag, sat in the corner.

  “It’s like I remember it,” Rod said, pacing a slow circle.

  “I thought you’d never been here,” Jeff muttered, somewhat confused.

  “Not here specifically, but the church we went to when I was your age was just like this one – same layout and look. I can still remember attending primary and getting a treat from the kitchen.”

  “Cool, but where are they?” the boy asked.

  “Good question, Boob. Someone’s obviously taking care of the place. Any ideas?” Clayton asked.

  “The food would certainly help us out but as empty as the homes are, the gym should be full and not just the kitchen,” Rod assessed.

  Cory ducked his head out the door to get an angled look at the full-sized gym, which was empty except for a lone basketball at half court. “I agree, but it doesn’t look to me like anybody really lives here.”

  “Well, I concur. So do we haul it out?” Clayton asked.

  “Doesn’t feel right – something here just doesn’t…” Rod’s thought tapered off, as he continued to look around and think.

  Jeff and Dude could do little but watch and wait. Finally Dude, fighting an inner suspicion, could hold back no longer and spoke in a hush to his friend. “I kinda feel like we’re stealing this stuff.” Boob looked at the others and then nodded his agreement.

  “Dude, what was that?” Rod asked.

  “Oh, nothin’. I was just thinkin’ out loud.”

  “But I think you’ve nailed it. We can’t take these stores. Somebody has worked long and hard to keep this place pristine and this food is theirs. It would only last The Ward a few days anyway, but for a single person or two, it could last them the winter. Do any of you see it differently?” Rod questioned.