Strain of Vengeance (Bixby Series Book 3)

by Michelle Bryan

  “What do we do, Luke?” Gordon glances at Amy and Evie still in the back of the truck bed and watching us with growing apprehension.

  Luke squares his shoulders and turns his back on us. Walking to the edge of the road, he stares off into the horizon as if it can give him an answer. Finally, he looks back over his shoulder at us. “We hoof it the rest of the way. We don’t have a choice. A couple of us could probably make it to the lab a lot faster than all of us combined, but the rest would be left here in an open truck bed with no shelter from any leech that could stumble upon us. No, we stick together. There’s strength in numbers.”

  “Yeah, but unfortunately that works for the leeches as well,” Badger grumbles.

  Luke whirls on Badger, and the expression on his face makes me step back in fear. “I’m aware of that, but we don’t have a fucking choice, now do we? If you’ve got a better idea, Badger, then spit it out ‘cause I’m all ears.”

  The strain of our situation exposes the cracks in Luke’s shell, and I don’t like it. Not one little bit. I hate seeing him this way.

  Before I can come to his rescue, Sam chimes in, “Whitman is right. We need to get to the research lab, and we can’t leave anyone behind. We stick together.”

  If Luke is surprised by Sam’s backing, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he barks out orders.

  “Dom, Gordo, get everyone’s packs out of the truck. Sam, get your sister and Evie. They’ll travel in the middle of us. Robyn, you’re our best sniper. You travel up front with me and the dog. If he so much as whimpers at any movement, you shoot. Dom, Badger, you two flank left. Lewis, Polly, you two flank right. Bix, Sam, Mike, you three bring up the rear. Watch our backs. We can’t be seen. Try to stay out of sight of any leech. We run. We hide. We don’t confront. If we are seen, we take out the leech before it can communicate our location to the others. If it’s close enough to see us, don’t hesitate. Kill it. Got it?”

  We all nod, even though I’m groaning inside. Fuck. So much for the easy, peasy, lemon-squeezy mission.

  “Okay people line up and head out. Fifteen miles. We’ll be there before the sun goes down and drinking punch with Doc Howarth and Doc Roger. We got this.”

  I’ve known Luke a long time. He’s good at a lot of things. Lying isn’t one of them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Luke, I finally managed to contact the research lab.”

  Badger hurries to Luke’s side with the news, holding out the radio with a smile on his face like he’s eager to please the big guy after being called out earlier.

  Luke doesn’t take his eyes off the road ahead. We’ve walked for almost three hours now, and Lady Luck seems to be giving us a break. Nothing has moved. Nothing stalking us. So far.

  “You talk to the docs?”

  “Yup. Doc Howarth. Gave him a quick rundown on what’s happened and let him know we’re a few hours out from the facility. He’s sending some of the army dudes to meet us. Help clear the roads between us and them.”

  Some of the anxiety plaguing me for the past few hours wanes at Badger’s news. My shoulders loosen, and the pain in my neck eases a little. Doc Howarth was sending help. We weren’t on our own anymore. I knew I liked him for a reason.

  Their talking morphs into droning as I refocus back on the wintery landscape around me. It snowed a little again last night, just enough to dust the ground with a white powder. It was already melting in the afternoon sun but still visible enough to highlight the old farmhouse in the middle of a field of white. The sight of it sitting there makes me feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest. The endless array of empty fields we passed this last hour has only added to my anxiety. Knowing we were actively being hunted with no place to hide did not make for a relaxing walk. The old place makes me feel like I can breathe again, even if it isn’t much to look at. It lists to the side like it finally got tired of fighting against the wind and gave up. The sagging front porch and roof adds to its aura of melancholy. Peeling white paint gives way to weathered planks underneath. Ragged strips of old curtains flap from the busted out second story windows making them look like fluttering eyelashes over empty eye sockets. The boarded-up lower windows tell a story of a long-ago desperate attempt to keep out the enemy. I wonder what happened to the people who used to live there? Did they make it? Did they become leech fodder? Did they fall victim to the ravagers? I guess I’ll never know, but I truly hope they managed to escape this miserable existence on their own terms.

  “Whatcha looking at, Bix?”,

  Amy startles me out of my musings, and I smile down into her questioning gray eyes.

  “Just thinking about how that old house over there looks like a tilted jack-o-lantern.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, it kind of does. It reminds me of Halloween. I love Halloween. Liv too. She always gets Cookie to make me a pumpkin shaped cake.” Her smile fades away as she realizes what she’s saying. “I guess I mean she used to. She can’t anymore ‘cause she’s gone now.” Her eyes flood, and I swallow the lump in my own throat. “Why did she have to go away? I miss her. You and Sam aren’t going to leave me too, right?”

  I throw my arm around her neck and pull her close. “Of course not. You’re stuck with us kid, whether you like it or not. None of us are going to leave you.”

  My eyes lock with Sam’s above her head, and I see the censure in their depths. I bite my lip. He’s chiding me for making a promise he knows I probably won’t be able to keep.

  Tearing my eyes away, I force a smile at Amy and change the subject. I pick up the chain lying around Amy’s neck in curiosity. It’s the stupid whistle that Gordo had picked up from Morley’s backpack. “Where’d you get this?

  She grins at me. “Gordo gave it to me. He said I was to use it as a leech warning. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

  “Yeah, real nice.” I curse Gordo in my head. How many nights will I be up now with that whistle blowing in my ear? As if Gordo knows what I’m thinking, he looks back at me and grins. The ass-wipe.

  I tousle Amy’s hair. “You’re doing good keeping up. I know you must be tired, but we’re almost there. Just a little farther.”

  “I’m not tired at all. It’s nice to be out walking. I hated being cooped up in that stuffy old train. And it’s real nice to be with Evie and Scruff. I love Scruff. He makes me laugh when he licks my face, even though he’s got bad breath. But I kinda wish we could have stayed at the farm. I liked it there. Not as much as I loved our hotel, but it’s nice there. Will we go back to the Grand someday?”

  I hide the pain at the mention of our old home. “I don’t think we can ever go back to the Grand, Ames. Even though we have a lot of good memories from there, the bad ones will always be in the way. Do you know what I mean?”

  To my surprise, she nods in understanding as the smile slips from her face. Wanting the smile to come back, I tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me. “But the farm will be a great place to live. You’ll love it there with all the animals, the kids, and the freedom to be outside.”

  She nods in excitement, her disappointment easily forgotten. “I saw some horses there. Maybe I can learn how to ride? I always wanted to ride a horse ever since I was little. Sam too. Right Sammy?”

  “Sam on a horse? Now that I want to see.” I toss a teasing grin Sam’s way a second before I choke on the bile at the back of my throat.

  Sam is as pale as a ghost, his head in his hands as he shakes it back and forth, like he’s trying to shake out whatever’s in there. Oh shit.

  “Sam?” I question, not ready to hear his answer.

  “They’re nearby,” he grits through his teeth, and I yank my rifle from my shoulder, whirling in an arc and scanning the horizon.

  “Luke,” I hiss. “We have company.”

  I don’t need to give the warning. Scruff crouches to the ground at Luke’s feet and stares at the tree line to the left of us, rumbling deep in his chest. He senses them, too.

  “Fuck,” Luke grunts as he scrutinizes the thick
woods. “I don’t see them.” He switches his gaze to Sam. “Do they know we’re here?”

  Sam wipes the sweat from his upper lip. “Not yet. They’re looking, though. Three hybrids from what I sense, followed by an army of leeches. It won’t take them long to get our scent, even with the wind in our faces.”

  “Fuck our scent,” Dom hisses at Sam. “You gonna give us away again?”

  Sam’s face is strained with his inner struggle, but his response is strong. “No. I told you that connection is broken. They won’t find us through me, but we have to move now. We don’t have much time.”

  “The old house back there. We wait until they pass us.” Mike jerks a thumb over his shoulder, and Luke nods in agreement.

  “Everyone off the highway. Move as quick and quiet as you can,” Luke orders.

  “Scruff, come,” Evie says as she grabs Amy’s hand in hers. The dog follows as we leave the highway and dive deep into the withered grass poking through the melting snow. We make a beeline for the dilapidated building, glancing over our shoulders with every step, anticipating the horde about to emerge from the trees. Blood pounds in my ears, and I pray with every step the house can keep us hidden from the predators long enough for them to pass by. It’s our only option. There’s no way we can defeat a horde accompanied by queen leeches. They find us, we’re as good as dead.

  The sagging porch creaks under our weight, and I have a fleeting fear it will collapse, taking us all down with it. But it holds even as Mike struggles with the swollen door. I glance back at the tree line on the other side of the highway. Shadows emerge from the trees. Lurching, stumbling leeches, heading toward the highway.

  “Open it already,” I whisper, trying to keep my panic from spiraling out of control.

  “It’s stuck,” Mike grunts.

  Luke joins him, and they both push against the door. The doorframe resists with a low crack as the damn door finally opens and we practically fall into the room.

  “Shut the door. Shut the door.” Gordo has no problem showing his fear because now the fucking thing refuses to close.

  While Luke and Mike struggle to latch the door, I glance about the room. A heavy mahogany sideboard sits against the far wall, covered in layers of dirt and spiderwebs.

  “Help me,” I whisper at the others. Picking it up on the count of three, we drag it across the floor, stirring up a cloud of dust that threatens to choke me to death before the leeches have a chance. As Luke and Mike move aside, we wedge it tight against the door, falling back into the room. Our breathing mists the air. Shoving Amy and Evie up against the back wall, I take an offensive stance, rifle pulled to my shoulder and pointed at the door and boarded up windows.

  Terrified eyes bounce about the room. No one speaks. No one moves. No one even dares to fucking breathe too loud. Did they see us? Do they know we’re here?

  Time ticks by. Still nothing. I strain my ears, listening for running feet or that damn gurgling. Anything that would announce their presence.

  Please let them move on.

  I don’t know whom I’m praying to. God. Lady luck. My mother long passed. I really don’t care as long as someone listens and helps us out.

  Scruff whines against my leg. I shush him, pushing him away with my knee as Evie bends down to his level and sinks her fingers into his fur, trying to keep him calm.

  Creak.

  The sound seems to reverberate around the room as all weapons jerk toward the door.

  Are they on the front porch?

  I glance toward Sam, but he just shrugs at me. What the fuck does that mean? Is he saying something’s out there? Is he saying it isn’t them? I can’t tell, but I can’t ask. My throat is frozen shut with fear.

  We wait for the door to burst open. A sound of running water hits my ears—slight but audible. I look around for the origin. Scuff pants at Evie’s feet, piss pouring out of him and pooling on the floor. He emits a slight whine as he loses control of his bladder.

  Jesus. That can’t be good.

  Another creak. Followed by a thump overhead. I jerk my gun toward the stairs and swallow so hard the others probably hear it.

  It’s an old house with busted windows. Just the wind.

  I try to talk myself down, but dread knots in my gut and gnaws at my innards like a rat. I can see Amy trembling uncontrollably and tears streaming down her face as Evie pulls her tightly into her arms. She looks at me, her eyes frantic headlights of fear. I want to go to her, but I don’t dare move. Instead I swallow my own terror and wink at her as I mouth, “It’s okay.”

  What the fuck is happening? Are they out there?

  Almost as if Luke can read my mind, he cusses under his breath and steps silently toward one of the covered windows.

  “Don’t,” I hiss, but he ignores me. Peering through a crack in the wood, he looks for a moment before staring back at us with a furrowed brow.

  “There’s no sign of them. I think they missed us.”

  Sam shakes his head. “No. I still feel them near. Something’s not right.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe your head is just fucked up too much.” Dom looks hopeful like he really believes what he’s whispering.

  I find myself agreeing with the idiot and hoping Sam is just messed up in the head. That would be a hell of a lot easier to deal with than the QLs and leeches.

  “All I know is there’s nothing out there.” Luke relaxes his shoulders. “We’ll wait a bit longer before we move out—Jesus!”

  I don’t see the hybrid on the stairs. One moment Sam is standing in front of me, the next he’s knocked to the floor by a lanky, flesh toned creature. For a split second, I think it’s a fucking naked-as-a-jay-bird dude until the head tilts back, and a low growl erupts from the deformed mouth. Wrapped in the icy grip of cold terror, I can only watch as its lower jaw drops almost to its chest, and rows of bladelike teeth protrude past the stretched lips. It dips its head toward Sam, and the scream of denial bounces in my head, eating up every other thought.

  No!

  As it goes for Sam’s jugular, shots erupt. The hybrid’s head explodes, the crimson shower of blood and bone bits splattering the wall like a Jackson Pollock painting. Sam rolls out from under the headless creature before it topples over on him, leaping nimbly to his feet.

  My head swivels, looking for another monster. Sam said there were three. A flesh colored blur leaps down the stairs just as a shrill whistle pierces the air. The hybrid halts in confusion, and I swear its misshapen face winces in pain as Amy blows the whistle hanging from her neck. It’s confusion and moment of hesitation brings its downfall. I flatten myself against the wall, covering Amy and Evie. The shrill sound digs into my brain as another volley of gunfire rips past us, tearing the second hybrid’s head from its body.

  “Amy. It’s okay.” Gently, I pull the whistle from her lips as she gulps in air, trying to breathe.

  “I… saw… it. Gordo told… me to blow… when I saw one,” she gasps through her tears. I wipe them from her cheeks.

  “You did good.”

  “Where’s the third one?” Gordo sounds almost as hysterical as Amy. He whirls around the room, searching. “Damn things snuck through the upstairs. Is the last one up there, too?”

  We turn to the stairs, guns aimed, but Sam answers Gordo’s question.

  “No. It’s not up there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can feel its fury. It’s out there, leading the rest.”

  That’s when it hits me, the low pulse of hundreds of pounding feet. An approaching mass of mindless hunger is coming.

  “Upstairs!” Luke orders. “We’ll attack from higher ground. Take out as many as we can.”

  Luke’s plan makes sense. Down here there are too many entrances for them to break through. Too many points to defend. From experience, we know the worker leeches don’t climb well. They won’t be able to scale the outside of the house. Only point we’ll have to protect upstairs will be the stairwell, and that will bott
leneck them. Give us a chance to pick them off. Although the way our fucking luck is running, this particular horde is probably the circus’s damn acrobatics section.

  As Sam leads the way up, the assault on the barricaded door begins. Fear jolts through me with every thump, and I push a now hysterical Amy and Evie up the stairwell ahead of me. Three doorways meet us at the top. I hope the house’s former occupants aren’t hidden behind any of them.

  “You two, clear that back room.” Luke points at Gordo and Dom. “Get Amy and Evie inside and keep them safe. Lewis, Bix, you two guard the stairwell. Keep them from getting up here. The rest of us at the front of the house. We’ll pick these bastards off from the windows.”

  I do as Luke orders, positioning myself along the backwall, the stairwell in my sights as the others disappear in the two front facing bedrooms. My nerves are already wound as tight as a drum, so Evie’s scream tears along my skin like sandpaper.

  “Scruff,” she screams at me as her terrified face appears in the doorway. “He’s still downstairs.”

  She attempts to hurl herself down the stairs, but Gordo’s arm round her waist prevents her from doing so.

  “Evie, no!”

  “Fuck. Lewis, cover me.” I bolt down the stairs without giving myself time to chicken out. She’s right. The stupid dog that only moments ago had pissed himself in fear is now standing at the door, growling at the sticky, torn hands smearing blood around the doorframe as they try to press their way through.

  “Come on, you stupid animal.”

  I grab the collar around his neck in a death grip and start tugging. Whether it’s fear or plain old stupidity, the dog won’t budge. The door cracks under the pressure, and a scream rips from my throat as it gives way. The sideboard collapses under the gaggle of bodies falling through.

  “Run you bastard!” I shriek at Scruff and yank him with all my might. He finally takes the hint and starts moving with me toward the stairs. He bolts past me and up the stairs to the still screaming Evie. I climb, taking the stairs two at a time. I don’t look back. I don’t want to see what’s behind me. I don’t want to follow the dog’s example and piss myself.