Hounded | Book 3 | Hounded 3

by Douglas, Ellie

“Okay, great. We have enough metal, but what about the tape? We have none here.”

  “I’m prepared to get us some.” He stood up and motioned towards the door.

  “Wait, Marvin, stop!”

  Marvin turned on his heels, wondering why he’d been stopped.

  “You haven’t got a gun on you, so here, take this one.” Ryker handed him a Charter Arms .44 Special Bulldog Pug.

  “Don’t need it. Besides, I’ve never shot a gun. I’ve got a hunting knife.” He inched a large serrated blade from a sheath hidden under his shirt and waved it around before putting it back.

  “Be safe, man. It’s not pretty out there. If you want to wait until I’ve had a break, I can go with you.”

  “It’s all good, Private, I’m happy to go. Besides, you know how much easier it is traveling solo. I can be as quiet as a ninja,” Marvin said as he vanished from the room.

  ***

  Marvin wore a clown-like grin from ear to ear. He’d dropped a large box of stuff next to Ryker’s head, startling him out of his stupor.

  “Geez, that was fast. You were only gone five minutes,” Ryker said as he knuckled his eyes hard.

  “Nah, man, it’s been two and a half hours. But never mind that, check out the goodies I got us.”

  Ryker started emptying out the box. There were screwdrivers, handsaws, a hammer, nails, sixteen rolls of duct tape, screws, and some rope. Marvin was practically jumping up and down with glee. “Check the other four boxes out.” Ryker took one look, then looked up and smiled hard at Marvin.

  “You got motorbike helmets. That was brilliant of you, and there are enough for everyone.” Ryker held up one of the helmets and tried it on. It was a little loose, but it would do.

  “Wait, that’s not all. I also got ten motorbike jackets, the real heavy-duty stuff. Plus, I found some knee pads that would help, too.”

  “But how? How did you carry all this back?”

  “I found a few shopping carts, made three trips, dumped the carts, then went back out.” His smile was infectious, and everyone in the room smiled. Ryker was glad Marvin had stayed. He was proving to be very resourceful.

  “You see any zombie dogs?”

  “Shitloads! It’s like they’re growing in numbers. Even saw two human zombies. God, they smelled worse than the dogs.” He chuckled aloud.

  “Shall we get to work?” Ryker said, looking over at the metal chairs.

  “Yes.” He nodded so eagerly, it was like hanging around with an overzealous teenager. Ryker was liking it. He’d found himself a new little brother. That thought provoked an inner emotion he’d not let surface before – the idea that his own three brothers were out there, possibly dead, or as he hoped and prayed, alive. The memory of them flooded him painfully.

  Throwing himself into dismantling the metal chairs did the trick to distract himself from his thoughts. Five more cups of coffee during the disassembling and he was feeling very awake.

  “Feel free to help,” Ryker said openly to the others in the room. Their number was odd, with more women than men.

  Five hours in, they’d made some good armor. He looked around the room at everyone. He had them walk around to see how well they could move, adjusting things when needed.

  Once everyone was armored up, they added backpacks filled with food and weapons. They also loaded more supplies into the shopping carts that Marvin had brought back.

  The noise of those would lure the zombies, so they’d have to move fast. Ryker didn’t fancy testing how well their armor held out.

  Five blocks away now, Ryker led them toward the hostel. They’d attracted a few zombie dogs and one zombie human. Ryker, with Marvin’s help, took them out smartly. They continued along the path, encountering another group of zombie dogs. Ryker began killing them as two of the dogs pounced onto one of the youngest girls in the group. Her armor held well enough for Marvin to stab the things to their second death, releasing Ashley from their scalpel-like teeth.

  Three more attempted to bite through the thick pads of armor, and each time they were easily taken out. It pleased Ryker to know that wearing the armor did two things. One, it gave them protection, and two, it transformed the one wearing it to be stronger in mind.

  They made their way inside the hostel and faced three human zombies. Ryker used his .44 Special on one, Colin shot another with a .33 Special, and Marvin used a spear that he’d made from the leftover metal.

  He shoved it right through its jaw and up into its deformed skull. With a sickeningly squishy, grating sound, its mouth snapped at the air before it fell to its decaying knees.

  Ryker, with the help of the others, quickly emptied out the carts. Then, with assistance from Marvin and Colin, they were able to stuff two of the undead into one cart and the other zombie got dumped into the second cart. They pushed the carts out onto the street and watched them roll slowly away. A few giggles escaped Ryker as he looked for a bit longer before darting back in with Marvin and Colin. Once inside, Ryker locked the door.

  They each started to peel off their armored gear. The tape had stuck to the hairs of their skin and their sweat had congealed it, so pulling it off proved difficult, painful, and time consuming.

  It was the start of their new beginning. Until it wasn’t.

  CHAPTER 31

  UNDERGROUND

  Before any of them moved forward, Bellamy put on the Army night goggles. He walked in front of the group, which stayed close behind him with lanterns lighting the way in an eerie, cold, damp, extremely dark, and very long corridor. The abandoned subway tunnel had once been alive, but now it served the homeless. The arched brick walls were smothered in graffiti. The floor was littered with hypodermic needles, broken bottles, mold, rotted food, rats, cockroaches, beetles, and maggots scurrying around like fiddler crabs.

  Lily was feeling dreadfully claustrophobic. Her fear of rats and other creepy-crawlies made her hair stand up as ice shards washed through her veins. With each footfall, the floor beneath them crunched. It was like walking over broken seashells, the sound echoing and bouncing off the overhead arched walls. All of them were waving flashlights in every direction as their lanterns danced a soft ominous glow in front of them.

  Timothy dragged his hand along the wall, picking up dust and grime and quickly shaking cobwebs off as he withdrew his hand. Anya squeezed his hand tightly. He couldn’t see her expression, but he felt it. She tried to put on a brave face and show stoicism.

  “How far is it, and do you know which way to go?” Julie asked with a vibrating voice that sounded as though she’d swallowed a blender. Her anxiety peaked as obtrusive thoughts about death crippled her mind. The dark, the unknown, it all grew inside her, taking control.

  “I’m following the map on the wall, from where we entered. How far, I don’t know, but quicker than if we were on the streets above.” Bellamy looked up briefly before casting his eyes down what appeared to be an unending tunnel. Julie said no more. She held Calloway’s hand so tightly he lost feeling in it. Her body shook as she insecurely placed her feet one after the other.

  They all stopped and listened hard to faint groaning sounds. Bellamy recognized those noises and carried onward.

  “Wait, you hear that, don’t you?” Ethan said as he cradled Crunchie the tiger, who had begun purring in his ear.

  “Don’t worry, it’s just homeless people, drunk or drugged,” Bellamy said, very sure of himself.

  “Dude, you better be right,” Shadow called out from somewhere behind him as she made her way to where Ethan was. She desperately wanted to stop and roll herself a joint. The timing couldn’t have been more inconvenient. That desire, that pull, only intensified her need to smoke her weed. She was convinced that she needed it to relax, to face her fears. Without it, she began feeling like the abused child she once was. Cringing in the dark, fumbling at the wall, gritting her teeth at the sticky cobwebs, she hurried but paced herself, eager to be with Ethan and feel the security she got from him.

  Bellamy didn’
t answer. He hoped he was right. He was ninety-nine percent sure he was, but there was always that one percent. He stopped suddenly. Others began piling into one another like a massive car crash. Many apologies were heard. Their clothing brushing alongside one another, and the intense smell of sweat, dirt and mold, caused them to grow more panicked.

  “Why’d you stop, babe?” Lily asked, aghast, her grip on his arm growing tighter. Her feet moved in place. She wasn’t able to keep them still. She felt as though her heart had been pushed into her backbone as her breath stayed locked in the middle of her throat. All she could picture was falling and being smothered by rats. She suddenly shuddered, her body twitching at the thought.

  “I’m going to check out the noises. Everyone else stay back here,” Bellamy ordered. He leaned into Lily, and she jumped when he kissed her. Relaxing just a fraction, she kissed him back.

  Bellamy took off, walking faster and getting closer to the noises they’d heard. As he neared a slight bend, he could make out chatter. Relaxing his shoulders and lowering his Glock, he came face-to-face with a crowd of eight, all huddled by a makeshift fire. They wore grubby clothes, their hair was messed up, and their faces showed gloom and despair. He greeted them silently. They looked up briefly and then ignored him. He went back and got the others. As they all passed, they couldn’t help but look at the homeless. Anya offered to have them join them, but they declined.

  No more than eighty feet beyond that group, they came across another, this one a little more brazen.

  “You can’t pass here, not without giving us food, smokes, alcohol, or drugs, if you have ’em,” a middle-aged derelict with fading tattoos across both arms said.

  “We have nothing to offer you. The world is dying, being eaten by zombies, so either join us or let us through. We don’t want any trouble, so don’t make me shoot you,” Bellamy warned, flashing his Glock at the man. This shocked some of the group, but Lily and a few others knew that Bellamy would never have shot them. It was just an empty threat.

  The old man dropped his axe to the side of his body. Using his other hand, he pointed to the wall and said, “You lot are crazy. There ain’t no such things as zombies. Crazies, that’s all you are, crazy!”

  Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh. It grew louder as they passed the group. He soon lowered it as he carried on. A few rats could be heard inside the walls, spooking Lily and the others. Their squeaks could be heard as they moved about in search of food.

  Another hundred feet in front, Bellamy was first to catch the strangest sound he’d ever heard. He couldn’t make it out. He stopped suddenly, and again the group crashed into one another.

  “Why’d ya stop this time?” Kara called out. She held Ronan tightly. He’d wet his pants from fear earlier, and had been whining that his legs hurt. All the walking had given him a rash between his legs. Kara didn’t have a change of clothing for him or anything to relieve the pain, so she had no choice but to make him carry on.

  “I hear something unusual. I’m going to check it out. Stay here,” Bellamy advised. Ethan made his way up front, quickly handing the tiger to Timothy. It let off a tiny roar, displeased over being taken from the warmth of Ethan’s jacket and placed into the coldness of Timothy’s arms.

  They got fifteen feet from where they’d left the group, and inside a doorframe was a man. He had a top hat and suit jacket on. He had no pants, only ripped underpants, and no shoes either. He was trapped inside the frame by fallen rubble and debris. He had turned into a zombie at some point. His strange muffled moaning was caused by his throat having been eaten away by rats. He was practically a skeleton, as most of his body had been eaten. Both Ethan and Bellamy wanted to laugh and vomit at the same time. This one was harmless, but they killed him all the same.

  “Must have been taking a leak?” Ethan thought out loud.

  “Yeah, this is a mystery. No idea why he has no pants on. That’s just bizarre. He looks like sewage sludge and smells like it, too.”

  “Bellamy, if there’s one, do you think there are more of them further ahead?” Ethan asked.

  “It’s possible. We’re going fairly slowly, so I’m confident we’ll hear them first, before they smell us.”

  They returned to the group and got going again. They’d been walking for over an hour and needed a break. Bellamy had everyone stop. This time, he gave them warning, so no one collided into each other. They all drank and had a bite to eat. Shadow took that moment to roll her joint, step a few meters away and smoke it hard and fast. The others could smell it, though none complained.

  Back on track, they edged their way further into the depths of what seemed like a black caldron of infinity, passing several more homeless people, none of whom wanted to join them. Another hour passed when they heard and smelled the enemy. As they drew closer, they could see with the lanterns and flashlights that two human zombies were blocked by some kind of cave-in. They were buried up to their waists in broken concrete blocks, and more rubble was strewn around them. Their arms were outstretched, as if begging on the streets. Bellamy chose to ignore them and carry on, taking the group further in. The infernal darkness proved impossibly difficult for some in the group, whose arms were constantly out and feeling around the air, and they often knocked into the ones in front.

  As people grew tired, some began to straggle. Four from the rear decided to take a rest, sitting on the edge of what looked like an old exit. The rest of the group had gotten so far ahead that they could no longer see their lights. They were too fatigued to care, and remained at rest for another fifteen minutes.

  The four started out again, unaware of dangerous eyes watching them with predatory hunger. They staggered slowly around a curve, believing the group had gone that way. They passed another caved-in section, walking precariously around it, when from out of the depths of the rubble came three zombie dogs.

  One pounced in front of Andrew. It stared at him and flicked its decaying tongue obscenely around its burned and ruined, pus-filled mouth. It wasted no time opening its maw and wrapping its jaws around Andrew’s throat, tearing it so deeply it severed his jugular. Scarlet fluid jetted outward. The dog didn’t stop there. Turning its sharp teeth and powerful jaws to Andrew’s shoulder, it ripped it into two halves before slashing at his chest wildly and hungrily, like a thousand starved men.

  Brandon couldn’t scream as his own throat was slashed. He felt searing hot pain rush through him as fast as a speeding comet. His skin was flayed from his body, like being diced by multiple chainsaws. Bits of his meaty flesh were tossed into the air, spewing blood and bone with a horrendous wet crunch.

  Joel and Olivia swung around, grabbing frantically at their guns and dropping their flashlights, which rolled away from them. With no light, they had no idea where the dogs were. Joel dropped his 9mm as the third dog leapt at him so unexpectedly that he was knocked to the ground. Without hesitation the dog dove into Joel’s stomach, pulling out his kidneys first. As it bit into them, gooey thick blood gushed out. Then they exploded in the zombie dogs mouth, making it look as though he had just vomited up buckets of dark red fluid. It sprayed over Olivia. She immediately froze as Joel’s warm blood trickled off her face, dripping onto her chest. She was paralyzed. Unable to find her voice to scream, all that escaped her cracked, dry lips was a hiss of air. Holding tightly to her pistol, she pulled the trigger. Her other arm reached out in front, waving frantically in the hope of grabbing onto something, anything to steady herself.

  She fired again, completely missing in the dark. She was entirely blind. She could almost hear the zombie dogs snickering and laughing at her. She kicked her legs out and struck nothing but air. Her heart slowed down, and her eyes strained to the point of stinging, as though she’d dipped them into onion juice.

  Her mind reeled in all directions. Her arms flailed about as if she was swatting flies away. She shot again and again until she’d run out of bullets, not one shot hitting any of the dogs. She collapsed in a heap and sobbed, found her breath, and scr
eamed bloody murder.

  As soon as she let off her almighty scream, without warning she was swiftly pulled apart. One dog was at the base of her neck, pulling her backward. Another was pulling her waist in the opposite direction. With their needlelike teeth, it wasn’t long before her body was cut in half and split wide open. Her bones made an audible snapping sound, like cracking ice with an icepick. Her last breath of air filled with her own gore as her eyes twitched and death took her away.

  Bellamy, Ethan, and Harry made their way back toward the gunshots and screams. They’d gone in as far as the trapped zombies. Unable to hear any more screams, they began making their way back to the group. This time, they saw a curve in the path, so they took it carefully. It led down another darkened section of the tunnel. More trapped zombies were in another partially caved-in area. They had to walk around the rubble, and that’s when they saw the bodies, lying in gallons of their own blood. Feasting on their remains were the three zombie dogs. With Bellamy’s Army goggles and the other two with lanterns, they shot the zombie dogs quickly. Going back the way they’d come, Harry shot the trapped zombies with malice and satisfaction. Back with the group, they noticed the upcoming tunnel had some slight curves. Some of the train tracks had been warped somehow.

  Bellamy could hear the deep breathing of some of the group. He sensed that their dark, demon fears were strangulating them. He wanted to ease their pain and get out of the tunnel. He picked up his pace, hurrying to escape the darkness. Suddenly, the ground went out from beneath him and he fell into an empty hole, snagging his backpack on rusted foundation rods that stuck out of the sides like gnarly fingers.

  Harry pulled him out, and they guided the group around the hole. He could see the end of the tunnel several feet in front of them. It was a black space of nothingness, just a large bricked-up wall. He looked up in search of another manhole to crawl out of, but there wasn’t one. He looked along the wall for a ladder or exit. As he continued walking, his eyes surveyed the surrounding area. Again not watching his footing, he almost tripped on a busted pipe. It stuck out a good thirty inches from the wall. Its jagged ridges had rusted away, and water dripped from the hollow tube.