The Hunger (Book 4): Ruined

by Brant, Jason

  “Should we sneak closer through the woods?” he asked. “Try to get an idea of what we’re dealing with?”

  “I think so.” Eifort’s jaw muscles flared. “Probably best to look for a way to sneak in and then wait for nightfall. If we can grab them and get out without shooting the place up, we’ll have a better chance of getting out of this alive.”

  “Think we could negotiate with them?” Lance tapped the bottom of his pack. “We could offer them some stale energy bars and our most gracious thanks.”

  Eifort ignored his lame attempt at humor. “We’ll have to leave the bikes and our packs behind. We’ll need to be light and fast to pull this off.”

  They continued until they found another intersection, where they turned left. The unpainted pavement appeared to lead toward the fire ahead. Eifort’s pace slowed considerably the closer they got, her head on a swivel as she scanned for signs of the settlement.

  Lance appreciated the eased speed, which allowed his legs to recover. He assumed they would need all the energy they could muster soon.

  The trip proved shorter than either had expected as they traveled much closer to the tower of smoke in less than half an hour. They spotted several tire marks on the road where rubber had skidded across pavement. The occasional food wrapper littered the shoulder.

  The rolling hills grew in number and size the farther north they went. The Appalachian Mountains angled through most of Pennsylvania and the closer Lance and Eifort got, the more the terrain morphed. The smell of saltwater had disappeared long ago, something Lance hadn’t experienced in years.

  He appreciated the scent of the trees, the open wilderness.

  Eifort finally stopped. Hopped off her bike. The smoke rose on the other side of a tall hill in the woods a few hundred yards away. Gesturing to the side of the road, she angled her bike that way.

  “What do you think?” she asked. “Stash the gear here?”

  “It’s as good a place as any.” Lance followed Eifort’s lead. He had no idea if her military experience and training aided her in this kind of search-and-rescue business, but he hoped she had a better grasp of it than he did.

  She found a narrow deer trail cutting through the brush at the entrance of the forest and followed it. They pushed their bikes silently until they were far enough into the woods they couldn’t see the road behind them anymore.

  Insects buzzed, and birds sang under the tree canopy.

  Lance marveled at just how noisy the forest was. City dwellers always romanticized how quiet the country was, but he never saw it that way. Sure, the noise wasn’t as grating, as overbearing as the urban variety, but it certainly wasn’t quiet. The damned bugs alone never stopped. God help the person who found cicadas annoying.

  They stashed their bikes and packs on the far side of a tall pine tree that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the others. With any luck, the landmark would help them find their gear again on their way out of the encampment.

  Each took a rifle and a sidearm. Eifort had an AR15 with several magazines of ammunition. Lance carried a bolt-action hunting rifle of some sort with two handfuls of extra bullets stuffed in his pockets.

  Every hundred feet or so, they paused behind trees and scanned the area, searching for guards or traps of any kind. They saw nothing of the sort. As they approached the foot of the hill between their position and the fire, they used slings attached to their weapons to secure them over their backs. Staying quiet while traversing the leaf-covered landscape proved difficult.

  Lance’s foot slid out from under him halfway up, threatening to send him toppling back down. His hand snaked out, grabbing hold of a root jutting from the base of a dead tree, and he steadied himself.

  They stood perfectly still for nearly a minute as they listened for any commotion or guards.

  When they were certain no one had heard Lance’s near header down the hill, Eifort glanced back at him with narrowed eyes.

  He mouthed sorry before they continued their ascent.

  Eifort stopped at the top, glancing around for hidden guard towers, but spotted nothing once again. Lance hunkered down beside her, wondering if they had found the hidden settlement after all. No one could survive nowadays without a constant watch, at least during the night.

  Even if they didn’t have guards out during the day, there should have been watch towers or tree stands surrounding the camp.

  Something.

  Anything.

  Yet, the coast appeared clear.

  They army-crawled forward, careful not to make themselves visible to anyone in the valley ahead. Lance moved left, stopping behind a tree and unslinging his rifle. Eifort did the same behind an oversized rock.

  Beyond the hill and a field of vegetables stood a farmhouse and at least half-a-dozen other buildings. Two sizable barns sat at the end of a driveway that snaked through the property toward the road Lance and Eifort had used.

  People milled about the farm.

  A man chopped wood.

  Several women sat around a fire a short distance from the house, their hands kneading at something Lance couldn’t see. More people worked the fields. At least twenty survivors were visible, though the buildings might have hidden many more.

  Goats and cattle grazed in another massive field behind the house.

  The place looked like something from another era.

  Lance peered through the scope atop his rifle. He scanned the end of the driveway, where it met the road, searching for guards or fencing.

  He didn’t see either.

  There wasn’t any fencing between their position and the farmhouse either. If they wanted, they could sneak through the fields and be within fifty yards of the house without anyone detecting them.

  It truly boggled the mind.

  Eifort’s features scrunched in confusion as she glanced over at Lance. She mouthed, what the hell?

  Lance could only shrug.

  He continued glassing the perimeter, searching for any kind of safety features for the community, but spotted nothing. The place had little-to-no security, and it seemed completely wide open to a Vladdie attack at night.

  “They must have underground bunkers or something,” Eifort whispered. “Otherwise, this doesn’t make any sense.”

  Lance agreed. There had to be something they were missing, or the camp would have fallen under tooth and claw long ago. While the nearest population center wasn’t all that close to their location, it still didn’t make any sense that someone could survive for so long without some form of protection.

  They turned their attention from the perimeter of the encampment to the center. Lance searched for metal bunker doors outside the house while Eifort checked for signs of something out of the ordinary around the barns. Everything appeared normal. Which was abnormal, nowadays.

  Even the windows of the farmhouse weren’t boarded up.

  Two naked women exited the door of the home and stood on the expansive front porch, leaning against the white railing. They laughed at something before hollering down to the man chopping wood. Smiling seductively, one woman massaged the breast of the other.

  He grinned back before tossing his axe aside and quickly ascending the porch stairs. His arms went around the waists of each as he guided them back into the house.

  “I like this place.” Lance pulled his face away from the scope to watch the valley from afar. “They seem friendly.”

  “I’m telling Cass you said that.”

  “I just said they seem friendly.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  A nude man with a long beard exited the front door and stood at the top of the stairs. He waved at the women by the fire before descending to the lawn toward them.

  “Never mind,” Lance grumbled. “This place sucks.”

  Eifort ignored him. “I don’t even know where to start searching. There are a lot of buildings down there.”

  “What about starting with the barns?” Lance angled the gun toward the good-sized structures, peering through
the scope again. “They seem to have less activity around them.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. I don’t want to get close to the house unless we don’t have a choice.”

  “The edge of the forest gets pretty close to the biggest barn there. Let’s circle around through the woods and see if we can sneak in that way.”

  Eifort gave him a nod before crawling backward over the crest of hill. Lance followed suit until they were out of sight of the farm. They quietly descended the steep hill and were about to head deeper into the forest when Eifort stopped dead in her tracks.

  Lance had lived with her long enough to know not to ask any questions. He scanned the woods in silence, gun at the ready.

  A woman stood beside their bikes, partially obscured by the pine tree they’d left them at. She stared at them in confusion.

  “Don’t move!” a voice hollered from behind them. “Drop the weapons and lace your hands behind your heads.”

  Every muscle in Lance’s body stiffened.

  He considered diving behind a nearby tree and trying to get an angle on the man behind them, but he feared Eifort would get shot before she could react to his play. His finger hovered over the trigger of his rifle.

  The woman by their bikes flinched when she spotted them. She aimed a rifle that had been hidden behind the tree directly at Lance’s chest. “You got ‘em, Joe?”

  “I got ‘em.” The man moved closer to them, the leaves crunching underfoot giving his position away. “I said drop the guns. Or I’ll plug the little guy in the back.”

  Eifort tossed her rifle to the forest floor, slowly lacing her hands behind her head.

  Lance thought about arguing with Joe that he wasn’t that small. Instead, he did as he was told. They watched as the woman approached. She stood an inch or two shorter than Eifort and had wild, unkempt brown hair. Cut-off shorts revealed strong, toned legs, and a tight t-shirt left little to the imagination.

  “Nice outfit,” Lance said when she was within ten feet of them.

  “You like it?” Putting a hand on her hip, she cocked out seductively. “You hear that, Joe? He likes my outfit.”

  “That so?” Joe asked, much closer than before. He stood just behind Lance.

  “It just seems a little nonfunctional for a guard to wear out in the woods.” Lance glanced at Eifort, who had a pleading look in her eyes. For some reason, it seemed she didn’t want him poking fun at the gun-toting people.

  “Guard?” The woman laughed. “I’m no guard. Just out doing a little hunting. Gotta feed my big baby. Right, Joe?”

  “Right.” Joe stood within punching distance now.

  “Hunting?” Lance tensed as he pondered lunging at the man. “Oh, well, never mind then. I remember my uncle Steve used to wear that same outfit every time we hunted when I was a kid. All the best outdoorsmen wear short shorts. Sorry, outdoorspeople.”

  The grin slid from her face. “We got a comedian here, Joe.”

  “Sure do.” Joe huffed.

  “Why do you keep using his name?” Lance asked. “Unless he’s as dumb as he sounds, I’m guessing he knows what his goddamn name is.”

  Eifort glared at him.

  Lance prepared to lunge for Joe the Genius.

  “There’s nothing worse than someone who thinks they’re hilarious but isn’t.” She smiled at him again before nodding at her partner. “Right, Joe?”

  “Right.”

  An explosion of pain erupted in the back of Lance’s skull.

  And then, darkness enveloped the world.

  14

  The stench of manure pulled Lance from the void.

  “Shit,” he mumbled.

  Pain throbbed through his head, pulsating from the back to the front. The agony nearly made him puke as he waited for it to abate. Each beat of his heart pumped fresh hell through his skull. Whether the pain eased or he merely adjusted to it, he couldn’t tell, but he was finally able to open his eyes and raise his head slightly.

  “Welcome back,” Eifort said from beside him. “How do you feel?”

  “Like hell.”

  “Well, what did you expect to happen when you’re constantly poking the bear?”

  Lance blinked several times, trying to clear his blurry vision. The room around them slowly came into focus as he scanned around. Joe and the mean woman had tied them to chairs that were chained to stalls inside one of the barns.

  Animal shit dotted the floor like landmines.

  Rope looped around their arms, torsos, and legs, securing them to the backs of the chairs. Lance could struggle for the next five years and not earn himself an inch against the ropes.

  “I was trying to get them pissed off, so they wouldn’t expect it when I attacked Joe.” Lance coughed from the hay and shit particles floating in the air. The stampede that ran through his head made him regret it.

  “That was your plan? Piss off the massive guy standing behind you?”

  “Well, I didn’t know he was massive at the time.” Lance noticed that both ends of the barn were open. Several windows lined both walls. They had enough light to see a bit, but the immense building was anything but well lit. “How long have I been out?”

  “You were only unconscious for a short while, but you’ve been groaning and babbling for a good fifteen or twenty minutes. They just finished tying us down a little bit ago.”

  “Did you find out if they’re the people we’re looking for?”

  “You’ve asked me that at least three times now.”

  “I have?”

  “Yup.”

  “I have a concussion, don’t I?”

  “Yup.”

  “Great. Well, humor me anyway. Are we at the right place?”

  “They didn’t seem interested in answering questions while they were dragging me through the woods by my hair.”

  Lance took several deep breaths, wincing at the pain. “Which barn are we in? The big one?”

  “No, a different one closer to the house.”

  “This isn’t the big one?” Lance scanned one end of the building to the other, wondering just how massive the biggest building must be.

  “I tried to pay attention to the camp while they hauled us in here, but I still didn’t see any fencing or lights. We didn’t pass through a gate or anything else. For the life of me, I can’t figure this place out.”

  “It’s weird all right.” Lance wriggled against his bonds even though he knew it wouldn’t do anything. “I can’t move at all. You?”

  “Not an inch. I don’t think this is their first time tying someone up.”

  “Did they say anything to you before they left?”

  “They asked a couple of questions that I didn’t answer. Then they said something about getting king and took off.”

  “Getting the king?”

  “No, just king, whatever that means.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Weirder than an open camp the Vladdies haven’t destroyed yet?”

  Lance didn’t know if the concussion was affecting his comprehension skills or not, but he assumed it must be because he couldn’t understand a damn thing going on around there. None of what they’d seen or experienced since finding the camp had made much sense.

  Leaning her head back, Eifort stared at the wooden planks in the ceiling above them. “We really screwed this one up. If we’re tied up in here, then we can’t help the others and—”

  She cut herself off when they heard voices coming from outside. A couple of people were chatting as they approached the barn. Lance and Eifort exchanged a glance before turning their attention to the far end.

  A tall, broad dude who Lance assumed to be Joe, The Cheap Shot Artist, and the woman from earlier came into view. Joe smirked at Lance as they entered. Another man strolled along in between them. Though he was a short guy with a pudgy build, he moved with the confidence of a pro athlete.

  His brown hair had speckles of gray in it and had receded several inches. A gnarly beard hung to his collarb
one. To Lance, he looked like a millennial from hell.

  The guy had sandals on.

  He took the lead, the other two falling behind him.

  Lance squinted as he watched the three move closer. It certainly appeared as if the other two held Sandals in high regard, but for the life of him, Lance couldn’t see why. He seemed like a dumpy idiot who should have spent his days watching hentai in his parents’ basement, not soaking in admiration from rough-and-tumble survivors.

  Sandals stopped in front of Eifort.

  “Glory and power to you, my brother and sister.” Sandals gave them a big grin. “I understand you were watching us from afar.”

  Lance gave Eifort a what-the-hell glance. “I think Joe gave me brain damage.”

  “Shut up,” Eifort hissed.

  “Ahh, yes.” Sandals continued grinning. “They told me you enjoyed waggling your sharp tongue.”

  Lance gaped at him. The guy couldn’t be serious with his bizarre parlance. It sounded like some made-up bullshit that kids would say in their backyard while sword fighting with sticks. And he didn’t remember Joe or Short Shorts using the same idiotic jargon.

  “I’m Magnus King, and this is my home.” Sandals spread his arms out, gesturing to the barn. “I suppose you don’t have much of a view from in here. Let’s correct that, shall we?”

  Turning, he gave Joe a nod.

  The big man returned it before moving toward Lance. “Don’t do anything stupid or I’ll break your arm.”

  Lance complied while Joe started untying him. He didn’t know what they were doing, but if he got a chance to get the hell out of there with Eifort in tow, he didn’t plan on waiting around. If the idiots wanted to untie him, then he would take advantage of it at some point.

  “So you’re the king?” Lance asked Sandals.

  “The king? Oh, no. That would be stupid and childish, wouldn’t it?” Sandals stepped closer. “I do run this place, but I’m no king. I protect my people. Lead them toward a new enlightenment—toward power and glory. But I’m no king.”

  Power and glory again, Lance thought. Sandals has a catchphrase.