Wanderer (Book 2): Hunters

by Lincoln, James

  “Get in the truck,” I said.

  California turned and walked up to the truck. He put the binoculars back in the toolbox.

  “Where’re we going?” he asked.

  “I told you, we’re going to look for them.” I said.

  “What about the kid?”

  “We’ll find him, but it might be a moot point if those things are closer than we thought.”

  ***

  I stayed along the ridge of the mountain as we made our way west. I wanted to keep our vantage point in case we stumbled upon them. We drove for hours and we didn’t see a living thing. The abandoned freeway below us looked like a river of abandoned cars. A dirty, rust filled river of metal and rubber.

  The sun was starting to set when we ran into another freeway that passed through the mountains. It was a toll road back when people used to use it. There weren’t any cars on this one, but the way it was built it was elevated in between to peaks and there was no way the truck could make it up the hill, even with its powerful engine. I looked down to where it joined the other freeway and there was no way to pass it. We were stuck and still no sign of the birds.

  I got out and checked the gas tank again in the failing light. The fuel level was noticeably lower now, about half was left. We would need to start making our way back now or risk being stuck out here. I screwed the cap back on the fuel tank and looked around.

  The trees had thinned out the closer we got to the freeway so we would need to back track a little to find some shelter.

  We had a fire that night. There was a cluster of trees on the back side of the hill not far from the intersecting freeways. The nighttime temperature had dropped significantly since we had returned. I couldn’t remember the last time it was this cold. It wouldn’t be long before snow would start to fall on the mountain tops.

  The next morning, we headed back toward the direction of the camp being careful to stay as far from it as possible. California had suggested that maybe the horde of zombies had wandered around the backside of the mountains, which stretched to the south for miles. The peak behind the camp was the tallest in the mountain range and we could see for a few miles, but we found no signs.

  I heard a faint noise coming from behind us. I turned and saw something we both didn’t want to see. A trail of black smoke was pumping through the tree cover.

  “Looks like our time frame has just shortened,” California said.

  We watched as the smoke snaked its way through the trees and closer to us.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  I parked the truck on the backside of a strange formation of rocks for cover. It was strange because these weren’t rocky mountains. The formation consisted of five car sized rocks piled like a pyramid. We got out and listened. Sometimes zombies are known to scream pointlessly. No one knew why they screamed, and frankly, it was rather unnerving.

  California was standing on one of the rocks, giving himself an elevated view of the surroundings and I was standing just a few feet from the truck. It was eerily quiet up here. The only sound was a slight breeze drifting through the trees. Pine needles that had fallen from their branches rolled along the ground. Leaves and other branches rubbed against each as the wind blew through them. Something else was there too. I thought it was the faint sound of the zombies’ screams, but it didn’t sound organic.

  “Captain,” California said alerting me to the sound.

  I turned and sprinted for the truck just as he hopped down from the rock. I opened the toolbox and reached for a silver and green clump in the corner and ripped it out of there. One of the things that Eric had supplied us with was a mesh camouflage netting that we could use to drape over the truck if needed. I frantically threw it over the truck in an attempt to cover it while California tried to erase the tire tracks in the dirt. The ground was rather dry, so the truck didn’t leave much in the way of tracks, but better safe than sorry. He abruptly stopped and ran back for the truck. I had grabbed the two M-16’s and tossed one to him. We both chambered a round and ducked between the truck and the rock formation.

  A low hum crept into the surrounding area. I could feel the earth vibrate beneath us. We were down wind and I watched as a thin fog filled the space around us. It wasn’t cold enough for fog and it had a distinct smell to it. It was diesel exhaust. They had brought the APC all the way up here. I didn’t see it approaching so I didn’t know how many people were in it, could be as many as ten. The APC approached at a slow pace so there could be more men following on foot most likely. I was actually assuming as much. Larson would definitely send as many men as he could.

  The vibration suddenly stopped. I could still hear the diesel engine, but it had stopped moving for now. Based on the sound of the engine I could tell they were close, about one hundred yards, at maximum. At that distance it was likely they couldn’t make out the truck, but they could definitely tell two people were squatting next to it.

  I tapped California on the shoulder twice to get his attention. He turned. I silently motioned for him and me to duck underneath the truck. He nodded.

  I lifted the netting and California crawled underneath. Once he was under, I followed. We laid in the prone position facing out the back of the truck.

  The APC rolled forward again just into view then stopped again. There were six soldiers following it. Two of them were taking point in front of the APC, one of them signaled the APC when it stopped. The driver shut the engine off. The back door of the APC opened, and more soldiers filed out and began to clear the area. I knew they were setting up camp. It made sense as the sun was beginning to set. We were in for a long night.

  “Should we wait until they nod off then bolt out of here?” California asked.

  I honestly thought about it for a moment.

  “We would take them by surprise, but I think they would have an easier time tracking us.”

  “You’re probably right,” he said rolling over onto his back.

  I watched the soldiers as they went about their business. They built a fire and set up a couple of simple tents. I found myself nodding off as the light was failing so I too rolled over onto my back. California had been so relaxed he had fallen asleep long before I even decided to. Both of us sleeping didn’t matter because we were screwed if they found us either way.

  I stared at the under workings of the truck for a while. I was no mechanic, so I didn’t know what the point of half of this stuff was. Pipes and tubes crisscrossed one another in a lattice work that reminded me of fluorescent ceiling lights as they flickered from the power surges. Moyer was running down the hall. I was shouting at him, but he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, hear me. He seemed to be running in slow motion.

  This time it was different, I was closer to him. I could see what he was seeing. I was him. I heard me shouting at him.

  He really couldn’t tell what was wrong with the girl. She just looked lost.

  We only had the news reports to go on at that point so there was no way he could know she was infected. I knew something wasn’t right though. I don’t blame him. He was young and wanted to prove himself.

  I saw her as she lifter her head. Her eye lids opened, and I could see her pupils. They were grey. In fact, every part of her eyes were some shade of grey and milky. She had a ring of red veins around her eyes that reminded me of the Sun’s corona.

  Her head slowly tilted to the left like a curious animal. Her mouth slowly slid open and I could see into her mouth. Black gums surrounded her teeth and her tongue was a collage of purple, green, and black. With the speed and ferocity of a snake she lunged for his neck. And that’s when I woke up.

  I was still staring at the under carriage of the truck. It was daytime now. I looked to my left and saw that California was gone. I quickly rolled onto my stomach and looked toward where the soldiers had made camp. They were gone.

  “Did you sleep well?” California said.

  I looked back to where California was laying when I fell asleep and saw him kneeling next to the
truck and looking under it at me. I didn’t answer him.

  “We should probably get going,” he said.

  Chapter 14

  The tracks indicated that the team had continued south deeper into the mountains. We had searched pretty extensively to the west and if the search party looking for us was going south then we conceivably have two search parties looking for the horde of zombies. Hopefully.

  After a while the forest all began to look the same. It all looked the same to begin with, but now it felt like we were in an endless forest. I swear we passed the same tree three or four times.

  I found a dirt road and decided to follow it for a while. It started to wind down the mountain a little. I recognized this road. We used to come up here as kids to go hiking, although it looks a lot different now. The road started to turn and head deeper into the mountains when California started slapping my arm. I turned to him and he was pointing at the side of the road, signaling me to pull over. I slammed on the brakes. The wheels locked up and the truck slid to a stop.

  California jumped out and ran back the way we came a few hundred feet. I got out and followed him. California came to a stop on the side of the road. I ran up next to him, my boots slapping into the dirt as I slowed to a stop.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Look,” he said and knelt down.

  I walked up next to him to see what he was looking at. California was holding something in his hand. It was white and flowing in the wind. It had some stains on it.

  “What is it?” I asked again.

  “It’s a bandage.” He turned and looked at me.

  I started to look at the ground around me. There were shoe prints and what looked like paw prints leading down the road, towards the truck,

  “Is it scavengers?” I said.

  “No. Look, there’s some orange peels.”

  I started to follow the shoe prints. Thirty feet away they turned off the road and into the wilderness, the paw prints followed.

  “It’s the kid,” California said.

  “What kid?”

  “Emily’s brother.”

  I had almost forgotten about him. I guess that meant he was still alive, and it looked like the dog had made it too. The kid was resilient, I’ll give him that much.

  “We have to keep going,” I said.

  I heard California stand up, although I still had my back to him.

  “We have to go after the kid,” he said.

  I turned. “You know we can’t. Now let’s go.”

  California reluctantly stood up and walked toward the truck like a five-year-old who was just told he had to come in for dinner.

  The truck was loud so we couldn’t speak to each other anyway, but California just stared out of his window in a gesture that told me he wouldn’t speak to me even if we could.

  I eventually brought the truck back into the wooded mountainside. Being on the open road was dangerous. We could be spotted by the soldiers looking for us or even scavengers roaming the area.

  It wasn’t long before we came to a clearing in the trees, a flat area about the size of a football field. It wasn’t the field that was strange it was what was in the middle of it. A black mid-sized SUV was parked dead center.

  I stopped the truck on the edge of the tree line, and we got out to inspect it. California started to head for it, but I stopped him.

  “No, wait,” I said.

  “What?” he said.

  “Look at it.”

  It wasn’t out of the ordinary to find derelict cars. People would load up their SUV’s with their families and possessions and head off into the wilderness thinking it would be safer. The problem with that was most SUV’s were not equipped to handle the rugged terrain of the mountains. It would get stuck or break an axle and the family would be left stranded and at the mercy of whatever wildlife was around, in these parts it was mostly wolves.

  This SUV caught my attention though because it looked brand new. With the exception of some dirt on the tire walls and fenders it looked freshly washed. Initial surveillance showed that the SUV was empty.

  I opened the toolbox and grabbed the binoculars. We were on the passenger side of the SUV and through the binoculars I could see the driver side door was open and it was indeed empty.

  “See anything?” California said.

  “Nothing.” I said and handed him the binoculars.

  I stood to get back in the truck.

  “We should wait,” California said.

  “For what?”

  “If the kid comes, he might use it as shelter. We could grab him.”

  “We have bigger problems right now.”

  “We might not have any problems anyway. Please.”

  I looked up at the sky. I was no astrological expert as I usually used my watch to tell the time, but I had forgotten my watch back at the camp. The sun wasn’t even toward the middle of the sky yet, so it was still before noon.

  “Fine,” I said. “Two hours.”

  California surveyed the SUV as I grabbed both of our rifles out of the truck. I walked up behind him and handed him his rifle, he tucked the binoculars into his vest. We both chambered a round into our rifles and then waited.

  We waited because this could be an elaborate trap. Scavengers could be waiting across the field waiting for someone to stumble on the SUV before they pounced. We could probably handle whatever, if anything, was waiting, but if it was a large group, there’s no telling what could happen.

  We had been sitting a while, it felt like longer because we weren’t talking to each other. I wasn’t sure if he was still ignoring me or if we were being silent to avoid detection. I finally tapped him on the shoulder and signaled toward the SUV. We had waited long enough.

  California stepped back to the truck and put the binoculars back in the toolbox. We made one last scan of the tree line then stepped into the open field.

  We slowly made our way toward the SUV. Each step was just as tense as the last because at any moment we might set off the impending trap. We had to constantly scan the tree line and surrounding areas for any possible threats.

  We were within spitting distance when California said, “Stop.”

  We dropped to our knees in an enhanced state of alertness. I turned my head and out of the corner of my eye watched California. He had his gaze fixed intently on a point in the tree line. A tense moment passed.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He paused. “Just a deer,” he said standing up.

  I got up too and looked toward where he said he saw the deer. I didn’t see anything. Maybe it had wandered back into the forest. He continued toward the SUV.

  When we had reached the SUV, we visually inspected every bit of it looking for anything out of the ordinary. The door jambs and wheel wells showed no signs of being tampered with. The ground appeared to be undisturbed too, except for the tire tracks leading into the field.

  Cautiously I leaned around the driver side of the SUV. The door was open, but it was clear. I made a final sweep of this side then set my rifle at my side.

  California kept watch while I investigated the interior. The interior was pristine as well. There was no luggage or any other type of belongings in the SUV. No supplies, no maps, no weapons, no nothing.

  “What do you see in there?” California said.

  “Nothing,” I said. ‘The thing is empty.”

  Something shiny caught my eyes as I was looking around, the keys. They were in the off position, so I twisted them forward to activate the electrical systems. The dash lit up and the stereo turned on, light jazz or something. Weird. The needles on the gauges rotated all the way to the right then back to their original positions. A little yellow light next to the E on the fuel level gauge stayed illuminated. Whoever was driving had run out of gas. The beeping from the dash caught California’s attention and he turned.

  “Out of gas,” I said answering his unasked question.

  “Oh,” he said and began looking around at the
ground. “They only footprints around here are ours.”

  “Could have been washed away.”

  “But the tire tracks are still here.”

  We stared at each other.

  “This thing didn’t just drive itself out here, Captain,” California said.

  I continued to stare at him unable to say anything.

  “What the fuck is this?” he said.

  “I don’t know.”

  Before either of us could say any more we were interrupted by the screams. We immediately took firing positions, scanning the tree lines.

  “Where’re they coming from?” California asked.

  “I can’t tell,” I said.

  The echo coming off the mountains and the ever-blowing breeze made it near impossible to detect where the sounds were coming from. I lowered my head in hopes of better hearing the screams. The breeze let up for just a moment and it appeared the screams were coming from the west, the direction we had just come from.

  “Let’s go,” I said and we both ran back to the truck.

  I slammed my foot down on the gas and whipped the truck around and sped toward what we hoped were the source of the screams. We couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the truck’s engine, but the sound level indicated that there were hundreds of them, just like we had seen, and we would run into them eventually.

  Chapter 15

  We had been traveling a while now and it was almost dusk when the passenger side front tire dug in too deep in a trench and the tire tore away from the bead lock on the rim.

  “Shit,” I said looking at the damage.

  “This is great,” California said.

  We were in the middle of the forest with dwindling supplies and no easy way to fix the tire. Even when we fixed the tire, if we couldn’t locate the zombies soon, we would need to return to base and face any punishment that might be in store for us.

  Sunlight was failing and we wouldn’t be able to do anything until morning. We built a fire and settled for the night.