The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 3): Crusade

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The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 3): Crusade Page 33

by Demers, J. D.


  Boomer was hot on my heels as I ran. We passed numerous zombies but I only stopped to dispatch the few that were close enough to be considered a threat.

  I ran until my lungs hurt and my clothes were soaked from sweat. Boomer offered no help in tracking my father as the scent of zombies was too overwhelming for the canine.

  “Where the hell are you?” Fish asked over the comms.

  “I’m…” I hesitated. I didn’t know where I was, and I had lost my father’s trail.

  “I lost him,” I said after I caught my breath. “I’m somewhere southeast of the house.”

  “Dammit,” Fish cursed. “Don’t come back here, Zulus are crawling all over the place. Head north and find a road. Campbell’s flying high scouting the area.”

  Disgusted with myself, I shook my head.

  “Roger that. Heading north now.”

  I garnered my bearings, checking the location of the sun compared to the late afternoon. Boomer and I trekked through the woods in what I was sure was the right direction.

  I couldn’t hear the buzzing of the drone or the loud engine from the Stryker, which meant I had to be some distance away. I was disappointed that we had traveled all that way to find my father only to lose him. To top it off, I was lost and in dangerous territory.

  I walked for twenty minutes taking down three zombies before I finally made it to a road.

  It was two hours until sunset. If Fish or Campbell didn’t find me soon, Boomer and I were going to have an interesting night.

  “Fish. I found a road,” I reported. “It heads north to south.”

  “Roger that. Stay put. Keep your head on a swivel and listen for the drone.”

  “I’m four hundred feet up. Let me know when you see me and from what direction,” Campbell added.

  I acknowledged and began to scan the sky, relying on Boomer to detect any zombie or scab that came near me.

  Minutes ticked by and nothing came into view.

  Boomer huffed next to me, grabbing my attention away from the sky.

  His snout was raised and his ears perked.

  His long ears flicked and he looked northeast into the woods. A low rumble came from his chest, sending a shiver up my spine.

  As his hackles raised, I aimed my AR15 in the direction he was focusing on.

  There wasn’t anything there. Something or someone was deep in those woods, though. Whoever or whatever they were had Boomer on alert.

  “I may have a problem…” I said over the radio.

  “Care to elaborate?” Fish asked.

  “Not sure yet,” I replied. “Boomer—”

  As I said his name, the German Shepherd bolted away, heading straight into the woodline.

  I followed Boomer, anxiously reporting to Fish and Campbell.

  “Boomer’s on the move! Heading north into the woods. Something has him spooked!”

  “Stay out of the woods, dammit!” Fish growled.

  Going into the woods was dangerous but I wasn’t about to let Boomer go off alone.

  I caught up to him about a hundred yards into the woods. He was no longer investigating. He was hunting.

  Boomer’s body was low as he prowled through the brush. Whatever he was after, he could either see it or sense it was close.

  I mimicked him, trying to stay as silent as possible. I avoided leaves, sticks and mostly focused my footing on roots from the surrounding trees.

  There was a clearing up ahead and I got a glimpse at what had attracted Boomer.

  Standing in a crouched posture in the middle of the opening was another dog.

  It wore some sort of vest. The hair was grimy, though I could see a goldish brown tint under the muck. One of its ears had been ripped or bitten halfway off. The vest told me it had been domesticated but more than likely the canine was now feral.

  It didn’t matter much at that point, though. Both dogs saw each other and both seemed ready to fight. It wouldn’t take much for either to clear the thirty feet that separated them.

  “Christian, report!” Fish barked.

  I ignored him, not wanting the sound of my voice to steal the other dog’s attention.

  Raising my rifle, deciding that I would shoot the other dog before they got tangled in a brawl. Boomer easily had thirty pounds on the smaller dog but I wasn’t taking any chances. My previous encounters with feral dogs had proven how nasty they could be.

  I put the other dog in my sights. It was moving cautiously, almost like it didn’t want to spook Boomer into attacking it.

  “What is it?” a female voice hissed from behind the dog.

  Boomer growled at the sight of the newcomer.

  From around a group of trees, a figure emerged and, if I hadn’t heard her speak, I would have thought she was a scab.

  She was shorter than me, at five feet six inches. Her face was concealed, only revealing her eyes. A black scarf covered her mouth and nose and a hoodie was pulled tightly around her head. A small patch of brown hair poked out of the top, covering most of her forehead.

  She was dressed in muddy clothes and, from the looks of the rips and holes, she wore multiple layers.

  But it was what was strapped to her back that made me flinch. I only noticed it because of the angle at which she walked.

  A zombie had been dismembered…mostly. There was a head poking out of a netted backpack. It was still connected to its spinal cord and part of its rib cage. One arm was still attached and the fingers gripped tightly around the netting, flexing ever so weakly as she moved.

  The woman noticed Boomer almost immediately and lifted a large caliber hunting rifle.

  I quickly changed targets, aiming directly at the woman’s chest.

  Before I could say anything, she called her dog back to her and out of her line of fire.

  “Leia! Get back here!”

  Leia…the name sent a chill down my spine.

  “Trinity!” I shouted, hoping to catch her before she pulled the trigger.

  I was too late, but my sudden outburst had distracted her enough and the shot missed Boomer and struck a tree five feet to my left.

  “Trinity, stop!” I called again.

  I stood up, lowering my weapon and quickly moved to Boomer’s side. Boomer, anxious, flinched as I approached, but calmed as soon as I grabbed the handle on his harness.

  The woman, who I was sure was Trinity, froze at the sight of me. Slowly, she lowered her weapon and said something, but it was too low and muffled by her scarf.

  “Trinity… It’s me, Christian. Your brother,” I said, unable to conceal my relief.

  Her hand lifted and pulled down the scarf.

  My relief turned to horror.

  CHAPTER 19

  Dystopia

  September 1st Evening

  The scarf had come down, but the face was, at first, unrecognizable.

  The front of her nose was gone, ripped off violently at some earlier date and healed without any real medical care. The scarred area was overgrown with new skin that warped and melted over the two misshapen holes. The left cheek was a pink mass of fresh skin. Her weak smile revealed two missing teeth on her left side.

  But her eyes were the same. I easily recognized them as Trinity’s. Unlike before, though, they were hardened, strained. Deep crow’s feet and a furrowed brow spoke of long days of stress and hardship.

  I regained my composure, not wanting to convey my revulsion.

  “Christian,” she said sharply. It was a statement, not a question.

  “It’s me,” I nodded, the smile long gone from my face.

  Fish and Campbell had been trying to talk to me the whole time, but I ignored them, cutting the volume on my radio down to a whisper.

  She reached over and attached a leash to Leia. The Golden Retriever dutifully accepted the submission.

  “What are you doing here? How?” she asked, never taking her eyes off me.

  I let go of Boomer’s handle and she flinched, partially raising her rifle.

 
“It’s okay!” I said quickly. “He’s mine.”

  She slowly nodded and then tilted her head.

  “How did you get here?” she asked again.

  I released an anxious sigh.

  “It’s been a long trip,” I replied. “I came here for you. For Dad and Mom.”

  If she was excited to see me she didn’t express it. She just observed me, as if trying to tell if I was a threat or not.

  Her eyes drifted down to Leia as she spoke.

  “Mom and Dad are gone. Mom’s dead and Dad…Dad might as well be,” she said coldly.

  I took a few steps closer. Leia and Boomer seemed to not like that much and both let out low growls.

  “That’s not true! I saw Dad. He wanted to take me to mom, but he got spooked. Ran off. I have been chasing him for over an hour.”

  Her eyes shot around the woodline and then back up to me. She was brimming with hatred.

  “You saw Dad? Christian, do not go near him! Mom is dead. She is one of them.”

  “But Dad said—”

  “He has lost his mind! Dad,” she waved her gloved hand next to her face, “did this to me. If he wanted to take you to her, it was to try and change you into a Geek.”

  “Geek”, it appeared, was her term for Zombies.

  She paused, considering something before she continued.

  “Were you at the house? Is that where you saw Dad?”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah. He was there, he took a shot at me. Thought I was someone trying to steal from him.”

  “That’s where the gunshots came from,” she said more to herself than to me.

  My eyes darted back and forth as I considered what she had told me. The claim that my father had lost his mind definitely explained his unusual behavior.

  Boomer perked up, hair rising on his neck.

  Zombies.

  “We have to get out of here,” I said hurriedly. “Zulus—Geeks are close.”

  Leia seemed to sense them, too. Her head swiveled back and forth as she bared her teeth.

  “Come with me,” Trinity said as she began to turn.

  “Wait,” I ordered, stepping closer to her. “I have friends here. Trinity, I’m immune to the virus and I’m guessing you are, too.”

  She hesitated before she spoke.

  “Dad said we were cursed.”

  “He said the same thing to me. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he is crazy. But I’m with a scientist. We’re on our way to Nevada where they are trying to develop a cure. You have to go with us! I can’t find my group but you know the area and could probably find them easily enough. We have to get Dad. With three of us, they have a much better chance of making—”

  “Forget Dad!” she growled, spinning back to face me. “He is lost.”

  “Okay, we can talk about that,” I said quickly as I noted Boomer getting more antsy. “But if we find my friends—”

  “Christian,” she said, cutting me off, “we don’t have time for that. My place is not far away. We have food and water and good defenses. Come with me now. We’ll try and find your friends tomorrow.”

  I noted a hint of dishonesty in her voice. She was being deceptive, but to what degree, I was unsure.

  “I can’t just leave them,” I said in a hardened tone.

  “Do you know how to find them?” she hissed as she began to step back toward the way she had come. She raised her rifle, scanning the wood’s edge.

  “Well, no, but…”

  “But nothing! There are thousands of Geeks around here. Once the sun goes down, we’re as good as dead.”

  She turned and began to march through the trees.

  I was perplexed. She seemed almost indifferent to see me. My family hadn’t always been on the forefront of my mind, but still, the idea of seeing them once again was always hovering around somewhere in my thoughts.

  Trinity seemed like she just didn’t care that we were flesh and blood. Maybe she had written me off for dead? If that was the case, why wasn’t she happier to see me?

  It didn’t matter. She was alive and, for the moment, right in front of me. I was not going to let her go and I was scared of losing track of her like I had lost my father.

  I turned up the volume on my radio and motioned for Boomer to follow me. We jogged until we were just a few feet behind Leia and my sister.

  “Guys, you’re not going to believe this,” I said into my mic.

  “Where the F—. Ugh, kid, you need to work on your communication skills! Are you safe? Are you back at the road?”

  “Christian, where are you?” Campbell asked desperately, immediately following Fish’s transmission. “Are you okay? Status?”

  “I’m fine. Look, believe it or not, I found my sister. That was what Boomer was detecting. We’re heading back to her camp.”

  “The hell you are,” Fish snorted. “Get back to the road.”

  “Negative,” I shot back. “Look, it’s almost nightfall. My sister knows this county well and we’ll be able to find you in the morning. She’s been alive for six months here and I’m sure her compound is safe.”

  “Christian…” Campbell said irritably.

  “Sir, the situation is what it is. You know finding me is a long shot before the sun goes down. I’ll contact you when we make it to her camp.”

  They continued to contact me as we traveled. I assured them everything was fine, but there was a growing sense of danger in my gut. I wasn’t sure what it was. It wasn’t the zombies and I had yet to hear the howl of scab since we entered the county.

  I cautiously followed my sister, studying the zombie that was secured on the outside of her backpack. It was still alive, though it seemed to be very weak. Its milky, purple-veined eyes locked on to me. A slow gurgle came from its mouth, which had been covered by layers of duct tape.

  “What’s with the zombie?” I asked her as we approached a small stream, attempting to hide the revulsion.

  Trinity glanced back, annoyed by my question. She had covered her face again with the scarf, but the look in her eyes told all.

  “Samuel here keeps most of the Geeks off my trail. You know they can hunt by scent. If close enough, they still attack. For the most part, though, they seem to let me go by and think I’m just another one of them.”

  “Won’t they attack Leia?”

  “She’s usually not with me. She’s more of a hindrance in the woods. Best for raiding buildings and alerting us to the Fiends. Haven’t needed her for that in over a month, though. When I heard the gunshots, I was out in the woods. I ran back to get her and headed to where I thought the shots were coming from.”

  “We call them scabs,” I said.

  She ignored me and went on evenly. “You can never be too careful these days, what with the thieves, murderers, beggars, you name it, running around.”

  She hopped over the stream. Boomer and I followed until we came to a large barn surrounded by reinforced walls. Numerous water collection barrels had been placed on the top, stabilized by the planked ledges on the slanting roof.

  There was a large open area where a fence used to stand but had been mostly dismantled. My guess was it had once been a horse pen. The dirt in the old pen had been blackened and stacks upon stacks of bones were piled to the side. They must have incinerated over a hundred zombies in the pit.

  But not all the zombies around the barn had been burned to ashes.

  Like something out of Hellraiser’s dreams, two dozen zombies were mounted on long pikes and wooden beams around the barn. Some had been impaled from butt to shoulder, while others had been dismembered down to just torsos and heads, chained or roped to the beams.

  Each was still animated, moving their heads as we slowly walked past.

  I was at a loss. I wanted to ask questions. I wanted to know what sickness inspired the horrific scene in front of me. I just couldn’t bring the thoughts to words.

  “Who’s that with you?” a voice called from above.

  The hay loading door above
the front twin doors was open and two men stood pointing rifles at me. The one who asked was tall and lanky. Pale skin and dirty blond hair flowed down to his shoulders. He looked older than Fish and had a hook nose and sinister glare.

  “My brother,” Trinity said, nonchalantly as she grabbed the handle on the door.

  “Is he clean?” the smaller of the two asked. His skin was as dark as coal. He was stocky and heavily bearded.

  “He’s like me,” she replied, glancing up at the two. “Mind opening the door?”

  “Goblin, open the door!” the dark-skinned man barked back into the barn.

  There was a screeching sound as I walked up next to Trinity. My comfort level was quickly sliding away.

  I gave her a concerned look. She sighed, brushing me off as one would an overprotective parent.

  The old barn door creaked and slowly began to slide open.

  The inside smelled like a sewer. I couldn’t say it was worse than the smell of death that surrounded the barn, but it was definitely on par.

  The man I could only guess was Goblin had a chain wrapped around his waist that connected to handcuffs. They bared his hands around his back. He was, evidently, skilled in opening the door from behind.

  Goblin was filthy, his eyes were wild, almost animalistic, and he hadn’t shaved in a few months. He only wore underwear briefs that had probably once been white. Now they were a dull grey and brown. And he was missing all but his thumb and pointer fingers on both hands.

  There was no question this man was a prisoner of theirs. And there was no question he had been tortured recently. The missing three fingers on each hand had most definitely been done as punishment, though it had to have been months before considering they were completely healed. Bruises and welts covered his back. He hunched over as he walked, but couldn’t have been more than my sister’s height if he stood fully erect.

  Malnutrition wrought his body. He was thin, weak, and overly fearful of Trinity as she walked into the barn. He cowered and followed his chain back to the post it was attached to.

  I gasped at the sight of him. Trinity simply turned and raised an eyebrow in amusement.

  Boomer seemed hesitant to follow us in, but complied after a few quick motions with my hand.

 

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