He sang along happily to Straight Outta Compton as he prepared his breakfast of fried eggs and toast. If Leandro could only see me now, he’d have his own heart attack.
He was always going on about Massimo’s cholesterol. He was a vampire, for snot-ball’s sake. He couldn’t die!
Well, not from high cholesterol, anyway.
Nestor jogged into the forest clearing where Terrier was examining Ivan’s mutilated body from a safe distance. Sweat dripped down Nestor’s face, carving pale streaks in the grime on his cheeks. Nestor was one of the dirtiest men in the bunker — which was saying a lot. He treated soap and water as though they would dissolve him, and the women treated him like he had the plague, which was somewhat ironic because even diseases avoided Nestor.
He stared down at Ivan’s battered body as if trying to figure out what he was looking at. “Holy fuckaroni, Terrier. Couldn’t you wait till you got to the kitchen before you started chopping it up?”
“It isn’t the catch. It’s actually Ivan,” Terrier told him.
Nestor leaned away from the bloody lump. “Shiiit…he looks like he got his balls caught in a bear trap. What the fuck happened here?”
“Saved him from a pack of wolves,” Terrier explained, conveniently leaving out Ryder’s involvement so he didn’t draw attention to her absence. “Then the prick’s eyes started glowing red, and he attacked me. I had to fuck him up.”
Nestor nodded, eyeing Terrier respectfully. “You fucked him up all right. Remind me not to piss you off.”
He wasn’t sure which injuries had come from the wolves and which ones were from Terrier’s axes. Ivan was a bloody, unrecognizable mess.
Nestor’s eyes darted to Terrier’s axes and then back to Ivan. The two of them had hunted together for years, and he’d seen plenty of things that Terrier had done for Afana. None were as gory as this.
Yegor craned his neck around Nestor, seeming to appear from nowhere. He was good at that. Yegor was the hunting group’s scout, which suited him perfectly. He was always sneaking around, and his neck —which was nearly twice the length of a normal person’s — aided him in spying on others.
“Looks like we’re having Ivan for dinner tonight.” Yegor’s voice showed great interest in the prospect, and Terrier and Nestor wrinkled their noses in disgust.
“Gross,” Nestor groaned. “Get away from me, you nasty motherfucker.”
Nestor shoved Yegor hard, and his skinny body crashed into a nearby tree. He was by far the thinnest of the group, and it looked like a light breeze could blow him away.
Yegor smiled, seeming to enjoy making the others squirm. “What? It’s just meat. And he’s got plenty of it.” He kicked Ivan in the ribs, making his belly jiggle. “We called him Fat Ivan for a reason.”
Yegor rubbed his filthy hands together like he was preparing for a feast.
Sergei and Pavel joined the rest of the group, stopping by Ivan’s body. Sergei glanced at the mangled hunter and then at Terrier.
“Where’s Ryder?” Sergei asked.
Terrier did his best to look sad, even though acting wasn’t his strong suit. “The wolves took him. While we were saving this piece of shit.” He gestured at Ivan with his axe.
Sergei raised his eyebrow and then his blade. “I don’t believe you. I’ve seen how you follow Ryder around like you’re his little puppy dog. Is it because you’re into him?” Sergei grinned, nodding his head. “No, you’d die before you let anything take him.”
Terrier gripped the axe handle. He was nobody’s puppy! Ryder was his best friend, but Terrier imagined that Sergei didn’t understand the concept of friendship. No one in their right mind would willingly spend time around a festering genital wart like Sergei.
Terrier would do anything for Ryder, and that included killing every single one of these fuckers. He tossed his axe into his other hand, and all of the other hunters tensed up, knowing he was readying for a fight.
“Duck,” Terrier said as he flung the axe in Sergei’s direction.
Sergei dropped quickly, and the axe embedded itself in Ivan’s leg. Ivan was dragging himself toward the hunters, groaning wordlessly. The axe blade embedded in his body didn’t seem to faze him at all.
Sergei gazed at him in horror. “How the fuck is that fat bastard moving? Fucker was dead two seconds ago!”
Ivan was barely recognizable. One of his eyes lay deflated and ruined, dangling from the exposed optic nerve to rest on his cheek. His remaining good eye glowed red, drawing attention to the glistening sores on his face. The rough ground flayed the remaining skin from his arms and chest as he dragged himself inexorably toward them, one torturous pull at a time.
Terrier took another axe from his waistband and launched it. The axe head buried itself in Ivan’s shoulder, but it did nothing to stop his momentum.
The other hunters got their weapons ready. Nestor darted in for the kill, hoping to collect Ivan’s head so he could trade it for a night with a woman. Maybe Lisa, if she wasn’t busy with someone else. Lisa was a popular choice among the hunters.
A head for some head, he thought, smiling triumphantly as he swung his cleaver at Ivan.
Ivan ducked the clumsy strike and then heaved his body off the ground. His teeth sank into Nestor’s arm, and he tore off a hunk of flesh. Nestor screamed in pain, and blood gushed over Ivan’s grotesque face.
When Ivan chomped down on a different spot, Sergei and the others attacked him. Sergei hacked off Ivan’s right arm at the shoulder with one swift swing of his machete, but even unarmed, Ivan kept coming.
With his last axe, Terrier swung for the cross tattoo on Ivan’s neck. The wickedly sharp blade cleaved through Ivan’s flesh and bone, sending his head flying through the air. Terrier watched Ivan’s head turn three revolutions in before it fell to the forest floor with a wet thud.
Ivan’s legs crumpled beneath him, and his body followed. The red glow in his remaining eye faded and then winked out completely.
Terrier breathed a sigh of relief and turned to head back to the bunker.
“Hey, Terrier,” Sergei called. “Where’d you say Ryder was again?”
Panic took Ryder in its grip as she reached the edge of the forest.
In the past, she’d gotten close to the outer boundary, but she’d never crossed it. The others in her hunting group had always reminded her—almost gleefully—that if she stepped over the line, they would take her head.
The men from the bunker repulsed Ryder, except for Terrier. He’d protected Ryder when she was first dragged into the bunker as a child.
After her mother’s warning, Ryder had tried to cut her own hair before Afana’s men found her. She had chopped at her hair with a dull pair of scissors, managing to get halfway finished before they’d gotten to her.
The scissors sucked at cutting, but they were great for stabbing, as the first man who tried to drag her away found out. That had resulted in a severe beating, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise. When she got to the bunker, her face was a lumpy, bruised mess. It had been impossible to tell she was a girl.
The girls were led down to the bottom level of the bunker, and the boys to a level above. Ryder had followed the boys, and no one gave her a second look until Terrier stopped her.
He was a giant compared to the tiny six-year-old. Just the sight of him towering over her terrified her, but what scared her even more was the confused look in his eye, like he was wondering what the hell a little girl was doing with the boys.
Terrier had banished her fear with a warm smile. Then, he stepped aside and let her follow the line of boys. From that point on, Terrier had watched over Ryder. She’d never asked him why he did it, or how he knew she wasn’t a boy.
It was enough that he had shown mercy.
Now, at the edge of the forest, Ryder desperately wished her old friend was with her. She could use some of his guidance right about then. She didn’t know which direction to turn, although any direction had to be better than where she’d come f
rom.
The land the bunker had been built on was higher than the surrounding areas, except for the mountains in the distance. It had been good planning on the part of the old government since it hadn’t been affected by rising water levels. If it had been built at a lower elevation, everyone in the bunker would have drowned when the climate changed and Siberia turned into a swamp.
As it stood now, Afana’s bunker was situated on an island of forest, bordered by water on all sides. Ryder would have to cross through dark, stagnant water to get away.
A new fear set in. She’d never had to swim before, and she had no idea what lurked beneath the opaque surface of the swamp water.
I’d rather kiss Nestor than cross it. The thought made Ryder want to vomit. Fuck that.
The water it would be.
5
“Where’d you say Ryder was, again?”
Shit, damn, and fuck it all! The moment Ivan dropped lifeless to the ground, Terrier knew he’d made a strategic error. Ivan’s wild attack had interrupted Sergei’s interrogation about Ryder. Sergei was certain that Terrier was lying about the whereabouts of his friend; Terrier had seen it in Sergei’s eyes. Now that Ivan was dead, Sergei would come after Terrier.
Terrier’s mistake was that he only had one axe left. The rest were in Ivan’s body, too far away now to retrieve.
Sergei had his machete in hand and looked ready to use it. Pavel had an arrow aimed at Terrier’s head. Nestor had been busy ripping off the bottom of his sleeve to bandage Ivan’s bite, but once he was done, he wiped his bloody knife down his pants and held it at the ready. Branches crunched behind Terrier, and he knew the spy, Yegor, was behind him and that he would have a knife ready to slit Terrier’s throat.
They were all after his head.
Terrier had seen them fight. He was stronger than any one of them, but together? There was a chance they would kill him. Terrier’s life wasn’t so precious that he feared losing it, but if he died, who would protect the women in the bunker? Who would wait for Ryder to return?
The clearing was tense and silent. Terrier feared that the slightest movement would shatter the stillness, and then the men would cut him down where he stood. It was only a matter of time. The hunters were ready to attack. They just hadn’t decided who would go first.
So, Terrier took the initiative. “I know where Ryder is.”
The cruel look on Sergei’s face faltered as the words penetrated his bloodlust. The man didn’t want to return to the bunker and inform Afana that he’d let a traitor escape.
“Where?” Sergei asked, scowling.
“I will only tell Afana.” Terrier was quite proud of himself. This gambit would buy Ryder more time. Normally, Ryder did the thinking for them both, but the old dog still had a few clever tricks in him. The thought made him smile.
Sergei gritted his teeth. “What the hell are you grinning at?”
“Nothing,” Terrier said. “Are you coming, or are you going to stand out here with your dick in your hand?”
He headed quickly in the direction of the bunker, hoping the hunters would follow. Once they did, he planned to slow the hell down. He was in no hurry. They could carry him if they wanted to.
Terrier smiled at the thought of Sergei, Pavel, Nestor, and Yegor carrying him above their heads like he was the king of the bunker. He laughed aloud at that thought.
Pavel looked at Sergei. “He’s fucking lost it.”
Sergei waved his machete at the men. “Go after him. What are you doing, letting him walk off on his own?”
Nestor and Yegor ran after Terrier. Pavel didn’t. He looked down at Ivan’s head.
Sergei lifted it off the ground by the hair, and the two men looked into Ivan’s face. His mouth gaped open, and it was filled with ugly sores.
“What in the fucking hell happened to him?” Sergei asked Pavel, who shrugged.
Sergei shook the head, and the movement made Ivan’s eyeball shake.
“Fuck it,” Sergei said. “I don’t know and I don’t care!” He looked at the other man with a shit-eating grin. “I’m going to get my pick of the women tonight for this.”
Pavel nodded. “Just watch out for Lisa. I hear she’s dirty.”
Ryder heard rustling behind her, and she knew she had no choice but to cross the water. She stumbled down the muddy slope, trying not to fall flat on her ass. She wondered if Afana himself had chosen the location for the bunker, not the old government, because the only way to freedom was through the dirty water.
Technically, Ryder had crossed it once before when Afana’s men had brought her to the bunker, but she wiped the thought from her mind a moment too late to prevent the memory of it from resurfacing. She looked at the water and wrinkled her nose, remembering that day and the tiny floating bodies. Not every captive from the raid had made it to the bunker.
Ryder psyched herself up. Get in. You're stronger than you used to be! She counted to three, took a deep breath, and stepped into the water.
It was colder than it looked. It seeped into her boots and then soaked her pants. With each step, the dark green water got higher, and the fetid stench of rotting vegetation intensified. Plenty of things had met their end in this place, and she refused to be one of them.
She pushed forward, and soon, it was up to her breasts. Not that anyone looking at her would know she had breasts. They were bound tightly with bandages.
If she got through this alive, she wouldn’t have to perform the ritual of binding herself anymore. The thought made Ryder feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be on display like the other women in the bunker. She wouldn’t be a prize for any man.
Getting away from that hellhole kept her slogging through the mulch. That, and her mission to save Terrier and the other innocents that Afana held in his lair. The hunters could choke to death on a thousand diseased wolf cocks for all she cared, but the women didn’t deserve to be prisoners. They had done nothing wrong.
Her whole body was in the biting cold water now, and the soft riverbed beneath her feet was muddy and uneven. Something brushed by her leg, and she froze, trying to do her best impression of something that wasn’t food.
After a full minute of standing stock still she hadn’t felt anything else in the water, but that didn’t stop her from imagining what could be swimming around in the darkness. She forced her legs to move and take another step. Her foot came down into empty space. She tumbled forward and went under.
Foul-tasting water rushed into her mouth, and she launched herself upward. Her head broke the surface, and she gasped for air. She flung her hands forward, trying and failing to stand. The movement disoriented her, and she panicked, losing her footing again.
An image of Terrier in captivity flashed through her mind, and she knew she had to survive. Not only for herself, but for the others.
Shit, her mind screamed as she tried to right herself. An invisible current tugged at her, pulling her away from the swampy area and out into open water. The calm, still waters came to life around her, sweeping her off into a full-fledged river.
The current’s erratic movements twisted and turned her body like a ragdoll. Ryder fought to stay afloat, but her strength finally failed her. The water pulled her under, and her head slammed against a submerged boulder, knocking her out cold.
When he got to the edge of the forest, Leandro tasted the girl’s scent on the dry breeze that fluttered past his snout. The woman he’d saved earlier had come through here. Judging from the way her trail ended at the water’s edge, he assumed she’d gone in. Her scent was still strong, though. She had to be close.
He looked past the marshy area and upriver in the direction of the current. His keen eyes spotted a body floating on top of the water. It was her.
Leandro leaped down the riverbank and slid on the mud, but he was moving too fast for it to slow him down. He reached the edge of the water, shifted back to his human form, and jumped in without a second thought.
Leandro got to her in no time. He pulled
her to his chest while he swam on his back so he could keep her head above water. Holding her like that, he used his free arm to paddle them both back to the spot where he’d jumped in the river.
He heaved her onto dry land and collapsed beside her. Even with his strength, the strong current had worn him out, and he needed a chance to catch his breath.
Leandro looked down at her unmoving body. Was she dead?
Ryder coughed, taking Leandro by surprise. She thrashed and heaved, choking up water. She was alive.
And Leandro was naked.
He wasn’t sure which version of him would scare her more —a naked man standing over her, or a white wolf? He imagined his wolf would be less threatening. He had saved her life in wolf form after all, and a naked wolf aroused less suspicion than a naked man.
He changed back into the white wolf just before the woman turned over and saw him. Her expression was unreadable, but Leandro knew that some humans liked to kill animals.
So, he stepped away from Ryder. She looked at him with those beautiful Siberian eyes. She didn’t pull a knife, which he took as a positive sign.
Still, Leandro decided not to wait and see if the mysterious girl would change her mind. He decided to hide in the trees and keep an eye on her from a safe distance.
6
Massimo went to the shed at the lower end of the garden where he brewed his beer. This was a daily ritual for him, bottling the beer he would sell in Pinewood later, but his mind wasn’t on beer. Today was the day Massimo got to taste his newest homemade creation—vodka.
He was tempted to go back to the house immediately and see how the liquor had turned out, but he forced himself to tend to the beer first. The people in the nearby settlement of Pinewood would be expecting it. They loved his beer, which he had named “Vamp,” because it had a bite to it.
The locals never understood why Massimo called it Vamp, and when he explained that it was because of the bite it had they all disagreed — even Leandro who hardly ever drank. He said it was fruity and fresh tasting.
Madness Unleashed: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Live Free Or Die Book 1) Page 4