Hungry Independents (Book 2)

by Ted Hill

  “I’m locked in a tower for over a year and you’re playing with dolls. Nice.”

  They stared at one another across the short distance.

  “Hunter, my arms are getting tired,” Henry called.

  “Girls?” Hunter said. “One of you needs to come now.”

  They broke eye contact at the same time. Catherine had the advantage of being closer, but Barbie was speedy and leaped over the fallen Brittany. They arrived together, but Catherine threw her shoulder into Barbie’s hip. Barbie spun out of the way with her head pinging off the side of the Winnebago. Catherine hopped inside, glowing with pride.

  “What?” she said at Hunter’s look of disapproval.

  “Let’s just get this over with.” Hunter met a very perturbed Barbie at the door. He took her arms and led her back to the street before a real fight broke out.

  “She can’t do that to me!” Barbie cried.

  “How long have you known her?” Hunter asked.

  Barbie looked up at him. “Centuries. Why? Just because she looks like a little girl doesn’t mean she is one.” Barbie yelled past Hunter’s ear. “She’s older than all of us.”

  “I’m trying to concentrate in here!” Catherine yelled back.

  “I really don’t like her,” Barbie said.

  Hunter smiled. “She’s been a pain in my butt since I met her.”

  “Still concentrating.”

  Scout and the others were helping the newly awakened Brittanys from their shared fog of possession or whatever Tommy the Perv did to make them crazy. The youngest Brittany had a huge gash on her forehead from her flight out the RV window. Jimmy had already removed his shirt and pressed it against the wound. The other Brittany sitting on the ground kept apologizing.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Scout said. “It’s not your fault.”

  “He waited in our house. He came into my room with the others and he put his hands on me. They didn’t even try to stop him.”

  The haunted look in her eyes filled Hunter with regret. He had to stop Tommy now, before more people got hurt. Like Cozad, Independents wasn’t prepared for anything as monstrous as Tommy. His presence would terrify the community.

  “We have to secure the town and get everyone accounted for,” Jimmy said. Hunter regarded him. “Now,” his brother added.

  Hunter nodded and waved off the funny look Scout gave him. “Billy’s right. Dylan, get the older guys together and have them do a sweep through town. And find someone to ring the town bell for an emergency so we can get everyone here.”

  Dylan passed the Cozad kids, who milled about in confusion. Then he ran up to the Independents kids, who were doing a pretty close impersonation of the Cozad kids. He stopped long enough to instruct the older boys about what Hunter wanted and the smaller group split off to perform the sweep. The town bell started ringing and both the Cozad and Independents kids wore startled expressions.

  “Scout and Billy, help the Brittanys over to Luis’s. He can take care of Brittany’s head.”

  “Couldn’t she do it?” Jimmy said, with a look to Barbie.

  “She could, but I need her and Catherine fresh when we find Tommy.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Hunter sighed. “This isn’t going to be a fist fight. You’ve seen him. He’s not natural. He’s not the same Tommy the Perv from Denver.” Jimmy’s new face twisted in a familiar frustrated expression, but Hunter continued, “Plus, I’ve been through some changes after my trip in and out of death.”

  “What are you talking about?” Scout asked. “And why does Billy here want to go after this Tommy so bad? Who is Tommy?”

  “Tommy is the one causing all this mess. I think he’s another Chase.”

  “What was Chase?” Scout asked.

  “Seriously, Scout?” Hunter said. “We’ve been in the middle of this for a year now. Haven’t you figured it out?”

  “Figured what out?”

  Barbie gave Hunter a small shove. “Give him a break. You didn’t know anything until I told you this morning.”

  “What did you tell him?” Catherine asked.

  She stood in the open doorway of the RV, looking exhausted. Henry held up Chef Brittany, who looked even worse. They all stepped out in a bunch.

  “Maybe we should talk in private,” Barbie said.

  Catherine looked around at the gathered group. “No, we can talk here. Scout needs to know, as well as some of the others.”

  Hunter knew she spoke of Jimmy.

  Barbie released her hold on Hunter. Scout grinned at him like he knew something was up. Hunter shook his head.

  “We were attacked by hellhounds last night,” Barbie said.

  “You too,” Scout said. “Molly and Samuel fought off five of them yesterday morning. They barely made it out alive... but Catherine helped.”

  Hunter’s pulse sped up. “Is Molly okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Catherine said. “Go on, Barbie.”

  “Thank you,” Barbie said, most likely indicating her appreciation for Catherine calling her by her chosen name. “Well, Michael’s alter ego finally appeared and saved us all.” Apparently chosen names were not as important for others.

  Catherine stepped over and placed both of her tiny hands on Hunter’s face. She pulled him down. “You got your wings. I wanted to be there with you the first time. Did it hurt?”

  “Like a son of a bitch.”

  Barbie punched him in the shoulder. Hunter bit his lip through the pain.

  Catherine smiled at him and kissed his forehead. “I guess you realize how important you are now.”

  “I was important before being implanted with an angel.”

  “That was self importance,” Catherine said, patting him on top of the head. “This is different.”

  “Excuse me,” Scout said. “What the hell is going on around here?”

  Barbie and Catherine shared a look. Catherine released Hunter and took another step into the circle of the small group gathered by the RV. The Brittanys sat in a huddle together, the older ones helping the youngest with her gash. A shirtless Billy stood by their side with his hat tilted back and his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Hunter was amazed no one else could tell that the little kid was Jimmy. Henry, Wesley and their sisters swayed in the heat with hungry looks in their eyes. Scout stood in front of Catherine with his arms crossed.

  Catherine raised her head and stared straight at Scout. “Hell is what’s going on. Chase was only the first and now we have to deal with Tommy. He won’t be the last, but we have to take them as they come.”

  “Take who as they come?” Scout asked.

  Hunter knew what she was going to say, and he still didn’t want to believe it.

  “Tommy is Famine, the second horseman of the apocalypse.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  Everyone looked at Billy, who shrugged bare shoulders and lowered his hat to block the morning sunshine from his eyes.

  Hunter’s laughter sounded crazy, even to him.

  Thirty-Seven

  Margaret

  Independents’s greenhouse was now a frame without substance. The cloud of grasshoppers had destroyed the plastic panels that allowed sunlight in and kept the cold out. Samuel’s expression worsened every second he scanned over the broken bits of his labors. Margaret knew what it meant—no food and a lot of hard work to regain what they had lost. The problem was time. The growing season was over, and before long kids would get hungry.

  “So, uh Margaret, right?”

  Margaret looked at Samuel and smiled. “That’s right, although I do remember my entire life as just Molly, so don’t feel like I’m not the same person you’ve always known.”

  “Oh, okay. It’s just I want to apologize for all the immoral thoughts I’ve had about you over the years. I mean, now that you’re a saint and all. I just wanted to ask for—”

  “Forgiveness,” Margaret said. “You’re forgiven, but not by me.”

 
“What does that mean?”

  “It means I can’t grant you forgiveness for thinking dirty thoughts about me.” Margaret couldn’t keep the warmth of discomfort from rushing into her cheeks. “But since you selflessly gave your life to protect me, and Catherine was able to bring you back, then I’m guessing He forgives you.”

  They left the ruined greenhouse and walked three blocks to the corner that led to Mark and Vanessa’s home. Flowers surrounded the brown house, untouched by last night’s bug storm, and two giant trees stood on either side like posted sentries. What worried Margaret was the door standing wide open.

  She started to jog, and Samuel stumbled after her before catching up. They crossed the front lawn, heedless of the walkway. Margaret leaped the steps to the porch and tumbled through the threshold, landing on her knees in the living room with a thud. Samuel’s clump-clump sounded right behind her. He accidentally stepped on her foot, but hopped off quickly.

  “Molly, are you all right?” Mark asked as he bent down and lifted her up. “Most people knock first, but since you’re family, I guess its okay for you to charge inside.”

  Margaret stood with the offered help, feeling too stupid to string words together.

  “I think we’re all a little jumpy after last night,” Samuel said. “Where’s momma bear and baby bear.”

  “They’re in the back sleeping,” Mark said. “It was a long night for everyone.”

  “Why was the front door open?” Margaret asked.

  “I wanted to take a look around outside the house and came back in to get my sunglasses. Didn’t realize leaving the door open was such a big deal.”

  “You know how it is, Mark,” Samuel said. “Some crazy dude rides a hurricane of bugs into town. He slashes your throat and the bugs destroy our food supply. That kind of stuff puts people on edge.”

  Mark stared at Samuel then switched over to Margaret. “Point taken. So what brings you guys here?”

  “I promised to come by and have a talk with you,” Margaret said. “And what Samuel just mentioned about the more serious problem with the food. We need to start figuring out what we’re going to do.”

  Mark played his fingers across his throat where not even a scar remained after last night’s slashing. “Okay, Molly. How are you able to deliver babies and heal people?”

  “Don’t forget the lightshow,” Samuel said. “She turned Dylan and me into a couple of bug zappers. Speaking of which, can you do that again sometime? That was a blast.”

  “Samuel, please let me talk to my brother for a minute,” Margaret said. Samuel nodded without comment, which was unusual for him. Margaret was thankful since she was stressed out enough already. “Mark, I’m still your sister and have always been, but I’ve also lived before as someone else.”

  Mark’s face showed the proper skepticism. She’d seen it on Samuel’s face a half-hour ago. The only cure was to push on.

  “My name is Margaret. I was martyred for my religious beliefs and later canonized as a saint by the Catholic Church. I’m known as the patron saint of pregnancy. Catherine and I, along with Saint Barbara, are the Three Holy Maids.”

  Mark fell onto the couch and Samuel found a seat on the opposite side. Neither he nor Margaret knew exactly what her brother would do or say once the initial shock wore off.

  “You really are crazy,” Mark said.

  Margaret sighed. “No, Mark. I’m not.”

  “You sure sound crazy.”

  “And you had your throat slashed open last night by a tall dude with bad hygiene,” Samuel said. “Maybe you should take a moment to reflect about how it felt to lay dying in the street before calling your sister crazy.”

  Mark flexed his hands, giving a sideways glance at Samuel. Then he touched his throat again. “What was that thing, Molly? Was it the devil?”

  “No. That was Famine, the second horseman of the apocalypse.”

  The town bell rang across Independents and Margaret looked out the open window, seeing only sunshine and green grass. Mark and Samuel stood up from the couch and walked outside. They left the door open, expecting Margaret to follow.

  Vanessa came out of the bedroom with a handful of David wrestling in her arms. She held him securely like any loving mother would. “Why is the town bell ringing?”

  “Don’t know.” Margaret waved at her nephew, who smiled back and stretched for her fingers.

  Vanessa stared at Margaret. “I heard what you told Mark. I believe you. How can I not? I saw how you helped Ginger deliver her baby. I just don’t understand it. There are a lot of things I don’t understand these days, but I know miracles are happening. I also know that the Big Bad still has plenty for us all to worry about. Is it really the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Can we stop them?”

  Margaret shrugged. “This is only the second one. It’s a process we’re going through. We have to try.” Margaret tickled David’s chin and he squirmed, giving a giggle and a bigger, chubby cheeked smile that revealed a bright row of baby teeth.

  “And you’re here to stop them, along with Catherine and this other one?”

  “No. We aren’t powerful enough, but we can help.”

  The bell rang with more fervency, clanging out its desperate call across Independents. She stepped to the door. Samuel and her brother were talking to some of the other boys in town, now wielding their baseball bats once again. At least they were all fully dressed.

  “If you can’t stop them, who will?”

  “He will.”

  Vanessa nodded and followed Margaret outside. Vanessa was a spiritual person. If anyone had faith that God would save them in their hour of need, Vanessa did. Margaret just wished she had some grasp of the overall plan. Her seventeen years of amnesia clouded her mind in a tumult of Molly decisions. The purpose was so unclear that Margaret had to believe it was a part of His plan. That didn’t make her any more confident in her abilities to help save the world from total destruction.

  They approached the boys in the street just as the ones with baseball bats took off. Samuel and Mark waited.

  “Hunter got back into town not long ago,” Samuel said.

  Relief filled Margaret, and then settled into a happy, although guilty, contentment. Her discussion with Hunter was a lot closer than she’d wanted, but at least he was safe. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. They just had a run in with the Britts. Apparently this dude, Famine, can turn kids into possessed killing machines.”

  “Are they all right?”

  “Yeah, Catherine took care of them with the help of the new girl. I think your other saint just rode into town with Hunter. They also brought a bunch of kids from Cozad. That’s where this Famine dude got his start.”

  “Everyone is gathering at Main Street,” Mark said. “That’s what the bell is about. We need to get a head count and set up defenses.”

  “Where is the baseball team going?” Vanessa asked.

  “They’re on patrol. Either they find this guy and take him down, or they help transport others safely to Main Street.”

  “They aren’t safe,” Margaret said. Everyone turned eyes on her. “No one is. We need to find out what Hunter knows. He’s obviously been able to fight this new threat.”

  “Let’s go then,” Samuel said. “The sooner we deal with this dude, the sooner I can figure out some way to feed Independents and however many kids came here from Cozad.”

  The walk was fast and uneventful, except for the eerie ghost town feeling from the deserted streets. What made it even worse was the constant tolling of the bell. Whoever was ringing it was very enthusiastic. On and on it clanged, echoing over the houses. Little David grew annoyed by the noise and started squealing. Vanessa tried soothing the baby with distractions but he wasn’t having it.

  Margaret was worried about Hunter’s arrival. What did it mean that he had found Barbara? What type of person would she be? Reincarnation was a tricky thing as Margaret’s recent discovery had proved. Did Barbara suffer from the same memory
loss? How old would she be? Considering Catherine was in the body of an eight-year-old and Margaret was seventeen, Barbara could be any age.

  Why Hunter? He found Catherine and now Barbara. In a weird way, he’d even found Margaret. Maybe that wasn’t the way to think about it. Margaret couldn’t help feeling like she was missing something, and that she was in trouble for having a relationship with Hunter.

  Oh, Molly, Margaret thought, what did you do to me?

  As they drew nearer to the center of town, others merged with them on the path. The bell finally stopped as Margaret’s group reached the brick cobbles where a crowd had gathered. The whole town, plus strangers from Cozad, milled about in two separate groups. The newly arrived kids looked like refugees away from their camp. Catherine and a couple others handed out bread and apples to the emaciated kids.

  Then Margaret spotted Hunter with a pretty brunette girl draped over him, next to a couple of the Cozad kids. Something very Molly-like stirred inside of her and she quickened her pace across the street to where her boyfriend stood.

  The girl caught sight of Margaret’s approach and smiled in recognition. Margaret realized this was Saint Barbara wrapped comfortably around her boyfriend. Margaret slowed in an attempt to regain composure before charging in to challenge for the right to be Hunter’s girlfriend, which she still was if anyone else had any doubts.

  “Hello, Molly,” Barbara said. “We were just talking about you.”

  Hunter stripped Barbara’s hands off him and spun with a confused look in his eyes, like he didn’t know what was going on. Margaret could share in that feeling.

  “Molly,” Hunter said, rushing over to her and enfolding her in a warm embrace that rivaled the August sunshine. Margaret laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, happy to have him back home. She breathed in his scent and contained her unsaintly thoughts.

  Margaret opened her eyes and saw the pain and discomfort in the twists and turns of Barbara’s face. Wanting confirmation, but afraid to ask such a delicate question, Margaret leaned back and stared at her boyfriend’s face for answers. Her body went limp. Her knees left her and she slipped to the ground like a string of yarn cut from the ball. If Hunter hadn’t helped her down she would have smacked her head on the cobbles.