Hunted

by Abi Ketner

  My eyes water, but I blink back the tears. How many more children are starving in the Hole? Then the little girl grabs her brother, and he hands her the last protein bar. As she stretches out, her torn sleeve slides up her thin, pale arm.

  My heart breaks into pieces when I see the perfect, dark circle marking her. My chest tightens, and my hands ball into fists. Oh my God. She’s younger than Alyssa.

  “When did you get that?” I blurt. I point at her arm, and she retracts it as quickly as she extended it. Her eyes flash a warning, and her brother puts his arm around her protectively.

  “Lexi,” Cole says. I fight the urge to wrap her in my arms as Cole pulls me back. He gives me a warning look.

  She can’t be saved.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I … ”

  The boy squints. He examines me for a minute and then drops his arm from around his sister.

  “She got that vaccine thing this morning,” he says. “At least she won’t get sick.”

  I want to die when he says those words. Because that’s what they told Amber. Part of me wants to scream out loud. I do my best to mask my emotions, but my facial muscles twitch as I try to keep from crying.

  Oh my God, please let us get these records out … He’s still killing children.

  “It’s time,” Bill says.

  The boy pulls his sister’s hand, their faces instantly turning grim and serious. Dahlia coughs, and I see her cringe.

  I know what she’s about to go through, and I fight the images of her screaming in pain like Amber.

  “Take your sister and go straight home; it’s not safe out here,” Bruno says. His voice cracks a little. He bends down with all his equipment on. “Be brave, okay? And don’t tell anyone what happened here. It’s our little secret.”

  The boy nods. “Okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

  Outside, someone calls their names. The boy flips his head to the side, his shaggy hair lying across his forehead, then he runs down the street, holding Dahlia’s hand. She looks back once, and we catch eyes, but then I tear mine away. I can’t breathe. My heart can’t take much more; soon, it’s going to combust.

  Bruno helps Grace get up, and I see tears in her eyes. She wipes her hands on her pants and gives me a weak smile. I can only guess what she’s thinking. These could be her children. This could be their future, if we don’t stop it.

  “Come,” Bill says. He runs his hand through his wild hair.

  I’m thankful for the interruption because I don’t want to go to pieces right here. It’s time to focus on finding the medical records.

  Bill steps out of the building, checks around, and runs down the street, stopping and waiting for the rest of us to catch up. My equipment feels like a load of boulders on my back, and I lean to compensate for the weight. The dark silhouette of the hospital grows closer with each step. Dahlia’s small face flashes before me, but I put her in a tiny compartment of my brain and push it away for now.

  I concentrate on steadying my breathing and staying alert. The faint fingertips of the sun stretch over the horizon, and things become clearer with the pink of early morning. I see the dilapidated structures people live in, the cement and faded fabric decoupage that makes up so much of the Hole. The gray buildings, dirt streets, and the abandoned and burned-out cars along the road remind me of the people who still live here. Most of the cars have blown-out windows, missing rims, and black, bare-tread tires with scuff marks.

  It’s not long before the siren wails loud and clear. I look up, staring into the sky, and see birds sitting on the loudspeakers mounted on the walls of the buildings. They don’t bother moving. In fact, they fight over spots to perch. Probably looking for fresh pickings after last night’s fights.

  Four blocks from the hospital, Bill leads us into a tiny, one-room shack. He scans it and then says, “Clear.”

  My shoulders throb, and every muscle in my back aches. Following his cue, I pull off my backpack and relax my shoulders. He puts a finger over his mouth and sits down.

  As we settle down, our knees and legs bump into each other, and our equipment bangs together. I pray no one hears it. Then Zeus sits in my lap, completely obstructing my view of everyone else. I groan as his paws dig into my thighs. His head sits way above mine; he’s so darn big.

  “We wait here,” Bill says. “Tonight, we’ll enter the hospital.”

  “How do you know someone doesn’t live here?” Bruno asks.

  “I don’t, so we’ll take turns guarding it,” Bill says. “Meanwhile, I say we rest some.”

  Outside, occasional engines growl in the street, whispers of voices travel, and feet scamper past. Birds caw and scream in the sky. The flies fester on my flesh and buzz about my head. And in the distance, I hear the marching of boots and the scuffling feet of Sinners.

  I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes.

  Tonight will change everything, forever.

  It’s dark, but I’m awake. My eyes quickly adjust to the darkness. Bill stands, wide awake, staring outside the hut. His head moves from left to right, scanning for trouble. He holds his gun in front of his midsection.

  “Fifteen minutes until go time,” Bill says, not even glancing my direction. “Rise ’n shine sluttastic,” he adds, even though he sees I’m already up.

  “Sluttastic? That’s a new one.” I crack my neck.

  Cole slowly wakes, blinking and sitting up straight. When he lowers his dirty fists from his eyes, he resembles a raccoon.

  “Where’s the fire?” Cole asks. I snort, not looking at him.

  “There’s no fire, dipshit, just the normal world exploding. Nothing new and exciting,” Bruno says.

  “Explosions cause fires,” Cole says.

  “Always gotta be a smart-ass, don’t you?” Bruno asks. He takes Grace’s hand and pulls it to his lips. She smiles at him as he kisses it, his fingers interlocking with hers.

  Cole watches them too, but if he thinks I’m going to allow him to do that to me, he’s wrong. He looks at me, and I glance in the opposite direction.

  I remember the conversation Grace and I had in the shower room. I asked her about the female guard who helped us get into the Hole. I felt there was a connection there that Cole and Bruno weren’t willing to talk about and couldn’t resist sticking my nose in it. But, as usual, Grace lived up to her name when answering me. She explained that Bruno had dated lots of other women before, some quite beautiful. But, she said, she didn’t play his games. And because of that, he chased her and practically begged her to be his wife. The other women were his past. She was confident she was his future. And when I see the gentle way he handles her, I can tell she’s right.

  “Pack it up; it’s game time boys. Oh, and ladies, sorry,” Bill says. The corner of his mouth lifts up, giving away a sly smile as if he’s enjoying this.

  A combination of groaning and equipment clunking around fills the shack as we jostle about. My muscles feel stiff, and my tendons crack when I straighten my knees. I’d stretch, but our elbows are already knocking into each other as it is.

  “Okay, listen up, here’s the plan,” Bill says. From one of his pockets, he pulls out his bottle and tosses the liquid down his throat. “We’re going to split up, taking two different routes to the hospital, and meet up in the basement. Hopefully.” He shoves the bottle back into his pants.

  “And why are we separating, exactly?” Cole asks.

  “It’ll better our chances,” Bill says.

  “And by that you mean one of us making it there alive?”

  “Precisely.”

  Not one of us seems fazed by the fact that he’s giving instructions while swigging alcohol. In fact, Bruno and Cole both nod.

  “Grace and Bill, you’re with me,” Bruno says. “Roméo, you go with Lexi and Cole.” Zeus woofs. “Seriously, dog? Go with your twosome.”

  Grace and Bill line up behind Bruno as he stands in the doorway. He glances all around, then disappears into the night, followed by Grace. Bill
squints his eyes, taking one good look at Cole and me, before moving out through the narrow doorway, his footsteps fading away.

  Cole’s posture is strong and his face relaxed as he straps on his helmet and pulls the night vision over his eyes. He exudes calm while double-checking everything, including us, before squatting in the doorway. His head swivels left, right, up, and down. His jaw twitches, and he runs outside, pausing in the alley between buildings for me to catch up with him. But instead, I push Roméo in front of me.

  “What’re you doing?” he asks.

  “Putting you in the middle. Zeus and I will hold up the back,” I say. “It’s easier to protect you this way.”

  “Okay, good. Just tell me what to do because this is way out of my comfort zone.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to keep you alive.”

  “Thank you.”

  Roméo rubs his chin and exhales nervously. He looks smaller with his equipment on, less confident carrying a gun, and it’s obvious he’s not used to combat. After all, he wasn’t sent here for that. He peeks his head out the door and runs.

  Last, it’s Zeus and me. I look down and pat him on the head. This is it. The moonlight reflects in his shiny brown eyes and his tail stills. His ears stand up like antennae. I give him a weak smile and then move with him galloping at my side.

  I inhale a fresh cloud of dust and feel the growing stickiness of my clothes against my skin. When I reach Roméo, I tap his shoulder. We hunch down between buildings.

  I squint, hearing only our steps and my breaths leaving through my teeth. Behind us, the alley opens into another street with small huts stacked up like decks of cards. In front of us looms a busy intersection where rusted cars and boarded-up buildings sit. I hear voices echoing throughout the street in front of us and lean around Cole’s wide shoulders to get a better look.

  People gather at the intersection, standing in a circle while trading jokes and talking. At first, I see only males, but then a small female joins them.

  Even if they’re harmless, we still have to act as if they’re our enemies. And they very well might be if they see us.

  The female laughs and smacks one of the males on the back. One of the others shakes his head. None of them have noticed us so far, but my hands stay tense around my gun. We take very slow, cautious steps.

  Cole goes first, loose stones crunching under his boots. He turns left, around a corner, and out of the alley. They still haven’t given us any reason to believe they’ve seen us.

  One foot in front of the other. I press my lips together and keep my gun ready. We sidestep along the building.

  A barrage of gunfire opens up. The Sinners all freeze. Bullets ricochet above them, chipping and scattering pieces of cement through the air. Sinners dive for cover, yelling and directing each other where to go.

  My heart pounds in my chest like a drum on steroids. Cole picks up the pace, but Roméo has a harder time keeping up as he gasps for air. Doors slam, curtains close, and people disappear into huts and doorways. I can’t help wondering where the others are and pray they’re okay. The sporadic shooting continues. It comes from the direction of the hospital, getting louder and then slowing. Then I hear the thundering of something bigger.

  I scan the perimeter for the source of the noise. Zeus lets out a bark, baring his teeth, but when I glance again, there’s nothing.

  Just then, Cole yanks Roméo into the doorway of a building. I follow without question. After clearing the room, Cole ducks down and pulls all of us away from the door. My backpack and I stumble sideways.

  “What the—”

  “Shhh,” he says, a finger to his lips. He peeks up over the windowsill and then slams his back into the wall below it. His hands turn pale gripping his gun.

  A vehicle roars past. I close my eyes and hold my breath. When the vehicle’s out of hearing distance, I open my eyes. Roméo’s shaking, hands white in his lap.

  I get up, dusting the dirt off my pants. I share a water from my backpack with Roméo, who guzzles it down, struggling to catch his breath in between gulps. When finished, he tosses the empty bottle aside. He jumps out of his skin when the popping of the guns start up in the distance.

  Where are the others?

  We head back out into the cacophony. The street’s littered with poorly made cement blocks that have crumbled. My feet are on fire, as if someone’s rubbed the skin off. Glass litters the ground and crunches under my boots.

  The hospital is only three blocks away now. Time’s moving in slow motion, yet it’s a blur to me. I swat flies away from my face with clammy hands. I don’t see Bruno, Grace, or Bill anywhere. Every shadow could be one of them, or a guard. I just hope I know which it is when the time comes.

  Throughout it all, though, Cole never waivers. He’s quick and decisive. Just the way he runs, directs, and observes makes me feel confident in him, even when I can’t trust my own instincts.

  We’re on the last street before the main intersection in front of the hospital. Cole abruptly turns, weaving through an alleyway filled with trash. Papers, bones, and torn material line the walkway from wall to wall. Something sticks to my feet, but I keep moving.

  Up ahead lies another connecting alleyway, reminding me of a maze. When Keegan and I were younger, we’d sometimes make forts in cornfields near our house. The farmer would show up on my parents’ porch yelling, but he could never prove it had been us trampling down his corn, making bedrooms and bathrooms and weapons rooms. That farmer was eventually accused of gluttony and taken away.

  I blink, and the memory dissipates. Cole stops at the edge of the street. He holds up his fist. He hunches down, so all of us follow, except for Zeus. His ears perk up, and his tail goes stiff.

  The ground rumbles beneath us. A shot of terror explodes within me, sending fear through my brain. The clanking and shaking is unmistakable. That sound so familiar. It chokes me up as my thoughts race.

  A large tank, silhouetted by the moon, thunders past the front of the hospital. Its turret faces forward, and a man sits inside, his hands rotating the fifty-caliber machine gun on top.

  Oh man. We’re screwed.

  Just then, the gun opens up with a barrage. The building to our right takes the hits, cement and dust sputtering up everywhere. My ears rattle. They fire again, stopping in place, blocking our way into the hospital.

  What is this? Target practice? It’s too loud to ask Cole what they’re doing. The wall begins buckling as the guards unload more rounds into it. I hear the gunner shouting while reloading his machine gun. He tosses shells out the side of his compartment and continues firing at the building, set on destroying it.

  My insides twist, and my muscles ache, tense and waiting. Zeus paces, and I pull him to my side, worried he’ll take off if we have to sit here too much longer.

  Then I hear it. The wall of the building he’s shooting at is thoroughly punctured. It begins to crumble. The upper floor comes down with a crash. The tank revs forward, the gunner screaming as he celebrates his victory over the scrappily constructed building.

  Any other time, I’d roll my eyes at his lunacy, but right now, I’m ready to go. Cole waits until the tank rolls farther down the street. He glances up, checking for guards on the rooftops. When we move across the intersection, we’ll be completely exposed.

  He waves us forward, giving us support while we bolt across the street, coming alongside the hospital. I inhale deeply through my nose, then exhale through my mouth. My quads burn from squatting so long.

  Three bodies in typical dark uniforms lie in a pile near the entrance of the hospital. I smell cigarette smoke and notice their cigarettes still burning, the ashes tender and red beside their lifeless forms. One of them looks like he’s staring right at me. My breath catches in my throat. I slow my roll, hugging the wall, and focus on where to step next. Cole stops to examine them.

  “Ahhhhh!” A figure comes bounding out of the darkness, yelling something unintelligible.

  At first, my
body freezes, unsure if he’s friendly. His hands wave in the air. Instinctively, I point my gun at him. He doesn’t slow down. Now, he’s so close I can actually see his guard uniform and the light shade of his eyes. He’s not stopping. I focus on the object in his hand and see the sharp outline of a gun, now pointed at me.

  I squeeze the trigger and shoot him. He doesn’t stop. Shells pop off to my side as I unload on him. His body slows, but he still stumbles forward. This guy won’t give up. My pulse races in my throat. How many rounds did I shoot? His eyes lock onto mine, and his gun dangles from his hands. I finish him.

  He falls forward. Blood flows from beneath him. I nudge the body with my shoe before firing off one more round into his head to make sure he doesn’t get up this time. I feel a tap on my shoulder and see Cole’s panicked eyes, his night-vision goggles off.

  He shoves me forward. But I stop quickly and pick up the dead guard’s gun, shoving it into my pants.

  Zeus howls. Another figure darts out of the shadows. I raise my gun, hands steady, finger stretching for the trigger.

  “Don’t shoot!” Bill shouts. His outline becomes clearer. “It’s me.” I relax my finger and bring my gun down, shoulders sagging with relief.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Cole asks.

  “Getting us in,” Bill says. “The guards at the front? Yup, that was me.” So that’s why they were lying there with still-burning cigarettes.

  “Are there more?”

  “There’s always more, and the ruckus you just made won’t exactly help things.” Bill turns, and we follow him.

  “He was going to kill us,” I say. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “The tank completely threw us off,” Cole says.

  “See? I told you they’d go for a ride,” Bill says over his shoulder. “Remember?”

  “You forgot to mention it was a tank,” I say. “Slightly different than an SUV.”

  “Jeep? Tank? They decide that, not me. Besides, usually they take the jeep,” Bill says. He runs past the side doors and we see Bruno and Grace just as Bruno swings the butt of his gun into a window alongside the hospital. The crashing of glass splits the air. He lowers his equipment in and slides through afterward, waiting for the rest of us to do the same. Cole is through next, then Roméo.