The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series)

by Booth, Steven

  “Keep going,” Miller ordered, and she started to edge backwards toward the entrance to the cave.

  “No, Penny, wait,” shouted Scratch from next to her. “I’ll go with you.”

  But Miller was already most of the way back to the entrance. She waited for the soldier to re-appear and take his shot. He did seconds later. She raised the pry bar, and brought it down in a crushing blow—not to the man’s helmeted head, but to his shoulder, the one that supported his gun hand. The bones shattered under the blow. She hooked the soldier with the end of the pry bar, and overbalanced him into the pit. The creatures down below sounded like starving sports fans let loose in a cafeteria after their team won the championship. She heard more screaming, then the man’s voice was silenced.

  Miller forced herself to remain cold. This was about staying alive. Some part of her brain began shouting that this was a live human she’d killed, a soldier, and that she was in the business of destroying the undead, not the living. But then her police training kicked in, and she redefined her actions as self-defense. They were trying to kill her and hers, and that made them valid targets, too. The guilt remained, just a twinge of it, but Miller forced it down. She’d had no choice.

  What’s done is done, Miller thought. I’ll have a lot more than that to live with before this is all over.

  She edged away from the entrance. Undead hands grabbed for her boots and but their rotting fingers couldn’t get purchase.

  Someone was shouting from across the cavern. It was Rolf. He said something about an overhead something or other.

  Miller looked out of the cavern entrance. She could see into the lair of the flaming huskarls. Most had burned to blackened hulks by now, just one or two were still in flames. But by that fading light, she saw the next pursuer coming at her. A soldier twice her size. Her heart felt huge and jumped like an orca in her chest. The man was built like a fridge with a head on it.

  My God.

  Miller swung the pry bar up and overhead. It was all she could do. She probably wouldn’t survive the next couple of seconds, but she would at least go down fighting, if that was her destiny. The pry bar hooked on something overhead. She tried to pull it down, but lifted herself a short distance off the floor instead. The bar was stuck on something, but at least it held her weight. She slid forward by accident.

  She was soon off balance and hanging over the pit. The creatures down below snarled and grabbed for her boots.

  Miller was helpless in a way, but the angle she had was just sharp enough to give her a good opportunity to kick this new bastard in the chest. She brought her legs up and turned to face the huge soldier. She kicked hard with both feet. The big man went flying. He bounced off the cave wall with a crash and slid down, stunned. He had not fallen into the pit, no such luck this time. Miller hung there, helpless and in the dark, waiting for him to raise his weapon. She saw the flash of his teeth when he grinned. He raised a handgun. He stood up and took aim. Abruptly his legs were jerked out from under him, and he went down into the monster pit. He landed with a silent thump, perhaps on his head, and the horde began to feed.

  The shock of the kick had sent Miller sliding backwards, still hanging on to the pry bar, and she found herself dangling in space and sliding rapidly along what felt like a long cable, perhaps a piece of mining equipment. A line that apparently traversed the entire cavern.

  Zombies grabbed at her feet and ankles and snapped at her flesh. Miller was still dangling from the pry bar’s handle, helpless but moving fast. Her slide took her right to the middle of the room. She was still facing the door, and she could see the next soldier come in. There was no one behind him, at least for the time being. He was alert and well-armed. Miller’s friends were moving along but still exposed. There was an outcropping of rock jutting down from the ceiling. It sat just a bit up and to her right. Her hands were getting tired.

  Miller wasn’t about to stay a hanging target or become zombie chow. She pulled herself up, away from the clutching fingers and gaping mouths, and managed to get a hand on the cable above. Then she brought her feet up just enough to get out of the way of the man’s aim. She now had a bit of cover from the rock face. She swung behind it and, holding onto the cable, let go of the pry bar.

  She heard a coughing sound. White flashes came from all around. The man was shooting at her. A second later someone, perhaps Rat, found cover and started to return fire. Soon Miller heard a third gun, also coming from her friends’ side of the room. Someone on her side sure had a lot of ammo to spare. Who the hell was that? Whoever it was, the sniper was pinned down nicely.

  Miller wanted to know where the extra gun or ammo had come from, but she didn’t have time to think about that right now. She had to concentrate on her own survival. Her people had made it to safety. Now Miller had to save her own sorry ass. If she stayed where she was, her arms were going to give out eventually and there was a ravenous horde down below. If she tried to get away she’d be exposed to the sniper. Miller decided to bet on Rat and Scratch and their suppressing fire. She’d need both hands. She’d decided to risk exposing herself in order to escape. She took a deep breath, grabbed the thick cable, and hand over hand made her way the rest of the way across the cavern. She felt naked as a jaybird with a target on her butt, but she kept moving. The sniper seemed preoccupied with returning fire and somehow missed her quick passage. Her hands were damp with sweat and rubbed raw from the cable but she kept going and got lucky.

  By the time Miller got to the far end, the shooting had died down. At the other end of the cave, some sunlight again filtered down from cracks high above. It was still difficult to see. She lowered her feet, and hoped that there would be a cave floor beneath her.

  There was.

  The dog licked her hand. Rolf stood straight and tall.

  “I knew you were the one. You passed the trial!”

  Miller ignored him. She rubbed her sore palms together. The others had all made it across safely. “Who was doing all that extra shooting back there?”

  “Rolf, mostly,” said Brandon in the darkness. “Damn that was loud. I can barely hear your voice.”

  Miller scowled, though no one could see her features. “You had a weapon all along? Rolf, why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

  “The Chosen One must face the trials without help,” he said calmly.

  “Okay, Idaho. We made it. Is there anything else that I need to do before we can get the hell out of here?”

  Rolf walked over to the cave wall and fumbled with it. Her eyes were beginning to adjust again. Miller wondered what the hell he was doing now. Rolf opened a door—an actual door on hinges, she could hear a faint creaking sound—and some new light from above came streaming in. Miller walked closer, feeling a sense of relief. The others were staring with astonishment.

  Inside the door was a stairway, leading up. It had been carved out of solid rock, perhaps by miners long ago.

  Miller’s head was full of questions but she’d just have to ask them later. She made sure everyone, including the dog, was soon headed up the stairs. Seconds later, Rolf closed the otherwise invisible door behind them, hopefully leaving any eventual pursuers mystified as to the manner of their escape. He edged past Miller and the others to take point. The light from high above was getting brighter as they climbed. Rat and Scratch and Sheppard watched Rolf with a mix of gratitude and puzzlement on their features. She was worried about the drones, but she was grateful to be out of the caves, so it was a bit of a tradeoff.

  “Let’s go,” Rolf said.

  Miller urged them all forward. She trudged along, bringing up the rear. Between the broken ledge, the zombie pit and the hidden exit, they’d now have a bit of time to get the ever-loving fuck out of the area—though Miller hadn’t a clue how they would pull all that off, with no transportation and the Army still nearby. She really didn’t want to tackle the desert on foot. They’d just have to think of something.

  They all climbed the stairs, heading rapidly up towa
rd the sunlight. Rolf and the strange dog led the way. The light above them grew brighter and warmer and closer by the step. The stairs leveled off and became some kind of path. Rolf started to whistle tunelessly, his cadaver dog trotting along by his side.

  Who the hell is this guy? Miller thought. Then she muttered aloud, “Fuck, that was one lousy morning.”

  Scratch said, “Amen.”

  Miller shaded her eyes against the sun. She searched for any signs of an ambush, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  “All right, everyone. Let’s get while the getting is good.”

  Right then a strange voice said, “Wait.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Miller spun around. She had no weapons but her hands, and she bunched them into fists.

  “Just hear me out.” Vanessa appeared from a shadow beneath the rocks. She had one hand up as if asking for peace and the other on her substantial belly. She was not armed.

  The air smelled crisp and clear and a light breeze kissed Miller’s exposed skin. They were all outside together now, resting close to the cave entrance but standing in the nearly blinding sunlight. Miller looked up. She searched the wispy clouds for airborne enemies, but all she saw was a hawk that was returning to a nest in the jagged rocks. The drones were gone. Perhaps they’d had to refuel—Miller didn’t know how that stuff worked—or maybe they just had other assignments elsewhere.

  “We’re listening,” Miller said.

  “I came alone and unarmed,” Vanessa said. “I want to come with you. I know my way around this area and where supplies are hidden. I can help.”

  Scratch and Sheppard both shrugged in unison, almost as if choreographed. Brandon watched and Rolf studied the sand.

  “Please, Sheriff, you have to trust me.”

  Scratch snorted. “No, we don’t.”

  “Brandon, tell them that they have to listen to me.”

  Miller turned to face Brandon. He’d saved their lives. She could see out of the corner of her eye that Scratch, Sheppard, and Rat were now watching Brandon as well. Rolf had dropped down on one knee to pet Dudley. He was muttering, face half in shadow, those erratic eyes darting around. His big machine gun was lying carelessly on the rocky ground nearest the cave. Miller still had no idea where he had picked it up, not that it mattered. Miller worried about sand getting into the weapon but she figured Rolf would clean it as soon as they’d stopped running. Just then Rolf looked up and whispered something about one of his imaginary gods. Miller ignored him and asked the question on all of their minds.

  “Well, Brandon? Can we trust her?” Though the real question she wanted to ask was, can we trust Brandon?

  Brandon met her eyes. “I don’t know, Sheriff. I like Vanessa, but she really drank the Kool-Aid back when Father Abraham was running things.”

  “I did not,” the woman said. Her eyes flashed at the betrayal.

  “Hell, that’s probably even Abraham’s baby,” Brandon said, flicking his hand in the direction of Vanessa’s belly. “The way she talked about Abraham afterwards… Well, she sounded pretty happy about it.”

  “No!” Vanessa shouted. “It was a cult and I just wanted to survive. I did what I had to do. How can you turn on me like this, Brandon? I’ve always been good to you. We took you in when you were almost dead. We didn’t harm you, or try to eat you, though we could have. Please, all I’m asking is that you help me get away too.”

  Brandon opened his mouth to argue. He said it again, “Sheriff, I don’t know.”

  They were wasting precious minutes. Miller cut off their conversation. “Okay, I’ve heard enough, Brandon. Thanks. If you’ve got something to say, Vanessa, you’d best say it.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff.” Vanessa relaxed a bit, but her eyes moved back and forth between the cave entrance and the open desert. “The bottom line here is, I didn’t want my baby to be born in a pit of despair. I can help you, and we need each other. I want to get out of these terrible caves and away from these people for good. You’ll need someone like me to help guide you past the Army patrols. I don’t know exactly where you are going, but they’ll be searching for us, and Brandon hasn’t spent as much time outside. So you won’t get very far without me.”

  “Back up,” said Rat with a frown. “What was that part about Army patrols?”

  Brandon sighed. “Vanessa’s right. There are military patrols day and night, in addition to the drones. They are always searching here and there for stragglers and to capture new zombies to experiment on. If they spot us, they will stop and question us, and we don’t know the correct pass codes.”

  “I can’t be sure,” Vanessa said, “but I think I do. I’ve used most of them and as far as I know they haven’t changed lately.”

  “Like I said, I don’t know them,” Brandon leaned in close to Sheppard and said almost as an aside, “Neither does Rolf, or Walter, for that matter.”

  “My bet’s on the dog knowing his way around,” quipped Scratch.

  “How can we trust you?” Miller asked. She took the woman’s measure as best she could. Was she scared and desperate enough?

  “I’m telling the truth,” said Vanessa. She was sweating and wiped her face on the bottom of her dress, exposing worn panties and the big belly. She covered herself again. “They will track you and stop you. You won’t get very far without me. You have to take me along.”

  Miller studied the others. Sheppard finally spoke up. “I think we should listen to Brandon.” He turned to Vanessa. “How do we know you won’t just betray us to one of the patrols? You tried to serve us up for lunch just a few minutes back. You don’t exactly have the cleanest record when it comes to keeping our best interests at heart.”

  “It was Gary who did that,” Vanessa said. “He’s the one who wanted to betray you. I was thrilled to see you, Sheriff. I swear to God.” She took a step forward, always one hand on her bulging belly, and pointed her finger at Brandon. “Brandon is just as suspect as I am, and you seem to trust him.”

  Rat moved forward, and leaned into Miller’s ear. “She’s got a point, Penny. We don’t know anything about this kid other than he’s really smart and knows enough psychology to get us to save him back there.”

  Miller’s head hurt. It was a combination of the sunlight, dehydration, and just plain being frustrated. Who could she trust, anyway?

  She looked at Brandon one more time. Could she trust any of them, Rolf and the dog included? But the more important question seemed to be, could she and her team—her friends—survive without them?

  Miller noticed no one was speaking. They all stood, waiting for Miller to make up her mind.

  She did. She would leave them all behind. She hated herself for the cold, calculating decision. And she hated to abandon the cadaver dog, but they would be back in civilian territory in a few hours and it wouldn’t matter.

  “I don’t know what we’re waiting for, Sheriff,” Brandon said, “but those soldiers aren’t stupid, and they aren’t slow. We need to leave, now!”

  “He’s right, Sheriff. Look, let me make a gesture of good faith.” Vanessa walked past Miller and went out into the sun, shading her eyes with one hand. She crossed a few yards, and approached a high, blunt outcropping of rock that was partially covered by a wall made of clumps of dead sage. As Miller watched, Vanessa yanked the dry sagebrush out of the way. It moved in one giant piece. Her actions revealed a hidden shape that was covered with a large, tan canvas tarp that had been desert camouflaged. She pulled that tarp away and revealed a vehicle hidden beneath. It had been parked nearby the whole time, a late-model cream-colored SUV with decent tires. It was dented as hell and covered with dust but it looked serviceable. Scratch whistled in appreciation. It was big enough to take the seven of them and the dog. Vanessa turned around and smiled. “I’ll even drive.”

  Miller took her measure very carefully. “Vanessa,” she said slowly. “If you knew there was a car here, why didn’t you just leave? Why wait for us?”

  Vanessa looked a
s if she was losing her patience. “That guy’s a doctor, right? How about I just take him and leave the rest of you behind? Would you prefer I do that?”

  Scratch and Rat closed on Sheppard, blocking him from Vanessa’s view. “You can try,” Scratch said.

  Brandon came towards her. “This is getting us nowhere, Sheriff.”

  Miller signaled her people to come over to her for a huddle. They came, but Scratch kept his eye on Vanessa, and Rat on Brandon.

  “Penny,” said Scratch, stepping closer as they’d watched, “I don’t think this is a very good idea. Don’t trust her. We can deal with whatever’s out there. We don’t really need Vanessa.”

  “I don’t know about that, Scratch.” Sheppard came closer as well. Miller’s confidants now bracketed her, whispering. “It seems rational to take her along, and Brandon agrees with her, to a point.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what your boyfriend thinks, Karl.”

  Sheppard rolled his eyes. “I am not having this conversation with you right now, Scratch.”

  “Good,” Scratch said. “Then it’s settled. We dump them.”

  Miller turned to ask Rat. “What about you, Rat? What do you think?”

  “I think you better make up your mind pretty damned quick, Penny. You’re in command. I’ll back you whatever you decide to do.”

  Miller nodded, but mostly to herself. At the last moment, she realized she would not be able to live with herself if she abandoned any of them. “Okay, that’s it. She might know a code that could bluff us through if we get stopped. She comes with us.” She turned to Rolf. “You, too, Idaho.” Then she looked at Brandon. “You’re coming too, I take it.”

  “That was the deal, I thought,” said Brandon.

  Vanessa smiled, relieved. She waited by the vehicle. “Thank you, Sheriff. You won’t be sorry.”