The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 3): Crusade

by Demers, J. D.

  Screams, both from Goblin and Ray echoed loudly in the barn. Karina pulled Boomer off the tall man while DJ covered him with his rifle. Pittman kicked Goblin in the stomach and the little man crumbled to the ground.

  Leia barked ferociously in my ear, threatening to attack but when Sheriff Green came at her with a shovel to push her back she retreated to safety in one of the stalls.

  Trinity was surprisingly strong but I was able to pin her to the ground and throw her gun to the side.

  She spat in my face just as Fish appeared, aiming his muzzle at her forehead.

  I stood as DJ came over and pulled my sister roughly to her feet.

  “Careful,” I told the big man, “that’s my sister.”

  “I know who the hell it is!” he yelled back. “And I don’t give a flying pig’s ass!”

  Campbell came in last and first noted Ray. I looked over at the man. He had crawled back against the wall. He groaned in pain while he held his jaw. Boomer had taken a chunk of flesh. Sheriff Green was now covering him with his rifle while Pittman tossed Gus next to Goblin.

  I caught my breath and turned to Trinity.

  “I told you to trust me.”

  Her only response was a dark glare.

  “What do we do with them?” DJ asked.

  “My sister is coming with us,” I told everyone.

  “The hell she is,” DJ retorted. “The bitch was going to kill you!”

  “Everybody calm down,” Campbell said in a raised voice. “For now, let’s secure the area. Karina, Pittman, take the roof.” He hit the transmit button on his radio. “Preacher and Jenna, bring the bus and Big Red up and park them on the sides of the building. Enrique, back the Stryker up and plug this hole. Then everyone join us inside.”

  I heard their acknowledgements from my radio, which was half buried in the dirt at my feet. I picked it up and returned it to its carriage on my belt.

  “Sir,” I said when he finished, “we’re not going to leave Trinity.”

  DJ marched up to me, not hiding the anger in his eyes.

  He grabbed me by my vest and shoved me against the wall.

  “You stupid son of a bitch!” he growled. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you had listened to Fish! Next time you’re told to stop—”

  I bounced myself off the wall and came nose to nose with him. Friend or not, I wasn’t going to let him come between me and my family.

  “My life, my decision!” I said, clenching my teeth.

  “The fuck it’s your life! It’s all of our lives, you selfish piece of shit!”

  “DJ!” Campbell roared. “Stand down!”

  Fish stood watching the situation. I knew he wouldn’t defend me after I had blatantly ignored his orders. DJ shot one final glare at the Captain before walking away.

  The next few minutes were tense. There was little conversation as vehicles were put in place and wounds were tended to, with Ray receiving no more than a quick peroxide wash and some gauze. DJ and Coleman kept watch over Trinity and the men, who had been restrained next to the wall.

  The silence was broken by the bouncing of rain off the roof. I approached Campbell at the back of the barn. He was taking inventory of Trinity’s supply cache.

  “Is that why we’re not leaving?” I asked. Campbell turned his eyes to the roof, listening to the coming storm.

  “Yeah. We saw the clouds this morning. There are too many Zulus out here to try and drive around in dead-weather. If the rain gets stronger, we may move out depending on what we decide.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was talking about what to do about my sister or not. Doctor Tripp approached us, answering that question.

  “Well, Christian, your sister is definitely immune. It seems your immunity is hereditary.”

  I nodded, guessing Fish had already told everyone about my father.

  “I would like to check out your house. See if I can find out why your bloodline is exempt.”

  I thought for a moment. “What would you find there?”

  She smiled. “What else can you tell me about your family?”

  “Nothing,” I shrugged.

  “Exactly. And your sister isn’t about to talk to anyone. We might be able to find some clues about your family’s past.”

  “I’m not leaving my sister,” I said in a low voice, hoping she didn’t hear me from across the barn.

  “According to what you’ve said, you never lived there and wouldn’t be much help anyways,” Campbell said. “I’ll accompany the Doctor, Coleman, and Sheriff Green to the house without you.”

  “What do you hope to find?” I asked again.

  Doctor Tripp lifted a shoulder.

  “Not sure. A family tree, some record of your family’s heritage. We know it’s your father’s bloodline, so that’s a start. Most likely we will come up empty-handed, but we have to try. You told me before you don’t have any cousins that you know about, but there still may be more out there that your father never told you.”

  I turned to Campbell.

  “Speaking of my father, if you run into him…”

  “We’ll deal with it as carefully as possible,” he assured me.

  There was a hint of a lie in his voice, but I let it go. In a way, I couldn’t blame them if they shot first. Especially after what I told them about what he did to Trinity.

  “When are you guys leaving?”

  Campbell eyed his watch.

  “As soon as the barn is secure. The house isn’t that far away and we won’t be on any major roads, so it should be an easy trip.”

  I left Doctor Tripp and Campbell to discuss their plans and proceeded up to the second floor of the barn where I had seen Jenna go a few minutes earlier.

  I glanced over the banister and down at my sister. She had been allowed to pull the scarf over her disfigured face. Her eyes briefly met mine before looking back at the dirt in front of her.

  I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to bring her back to…what? Reality? Her reality had been shattered by the one man who should have protected her. It had been wrecked by other, more abusive men. Instead of it breaking her down to nothing, it hardened her.

  Maybe if she felt like a victim, it would have been easier to talk to her. Victimization was not one of the vibes she gave off, though. If anything, it had reconstructed her into a warped sort of vigilante. Or worse.

  Somehow, over the next twenty-four hours, I would have to convince her to willingly come with us. I say willingly because I knew, no matter what, she was going to come. Either as a prisoner or a passenger. There was no way Campbell or Doctor Tripp would agree to leaving her behind.

  DJ may argue that point, from the reaction he had given earlier. He could point out that she might be a liability. I’m sure Campbell would overrule him, though.

  My eyes returned to Jenna, she was slumped up against the wall, fiddling with a large object in her hands. She had grown distant and I sort of felt like I was intruding. I had to talk to someone, though. Fish was not the person to have that sort of discussion with.

  “Hey,” I said, taking a seat next to her.

  Jenna glanced up at me and smiled weakly. After a moment of hesitation, she handed me the object she was holding.

  “I found this near your sister’s gear,” she whispered.

  It was an old picture of my family. My mother had us take professional photos two months before I left for the Army. Trinity, only fifteen at the time, looked beautiful. She was leaning on my shoulder and staring up at me. Her long brown hair and smart smile brought back memories of our childhood.

  It wasn’t the same person sitting below me in the dirt.

  “Things are different,” I said so only Jenna could hear me.

  “Everything is different,” she replied, coldly.

  I stayed silent, feeling the vibe of sorrow Jenna was giving off. Rain fell harder outside, and I had a brief memory of the night Jenna and I spent together at the Taylor farmstead.

&n
bsp; “Jenna…”

  “Christian. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Do you mean us?” Some dark corner of my mind felt the death of Daniel had changed her feelings toward me.

  She gave a humorless chuckle.

  “No, not just us. This,” she said with an open wave. “Traveling across the country. Seeing how much the world has changed. I’ve always been strong and independent. Now? I don’t know. Daniel died saving me. Dobson died saving you. Chad, Manns, Gonzo…so many people.”

  I felt the dip in the atmosphere as she spoke. I didn’t understand how a picture of my family brought her such despair.

  She nodded at the frame I held.

  “That’s what our world was. I see you…happy. Not happy like when you and I kissed or when you shot your first pig. But normal-happy. Your sister was normal. My mother, father, brothers, all normal. My friends, teachers, the lady at the 7-Eleven convenience store, whose name I could never remember. Everyone is gone. Dead. And those of us that lived?” She shot a glare down at my sister and her friends. “That’s what we’re turning into.”

  I began to realize it wasn’t just today or my sister. The last week or so, or rather, since Daniel died, she had been thinking. The thoughts she was having were dangerous. Depression is a brutal condition. With the world falling into the sewer, getting depressed was only going to lead down a dark and dreadful road.

  “Do you…wish you never came with me?” I asked.

  “It’s not that, Christian,” she reaffirmed. “It’s not you. I just…sometimes I wish I would have just died on the first day.”

  And there it was. Jenna, the forever strong woman I had known since the day her and DJ rescued me and Fish from Wagon Wheel Pizza, had shown her cracks. Her armor wasn’t like Fish’s. I could see through his easily enough now. Hers always appeared to be natural rather than a protective suit.

  Again, I was just being selfish equating her sadness to me. It wasn’t just one thing. It was everything. Life, as we knew it, was gone. The picture reminded her of that. Seeing how I used to be and seeing me now showed her how ugly the world had become.

  “You know,” I said as I lightly gripped her hand, “my father use to say that things will usually get worse before they get better. Maybe that’s where we’re at? Maybe this world has hit its lowest point and we, our crew of misfits,” I chuckled, “are bringing it back on course.”

  She smiled. “Maybe.”

  “You know,” I continued, “Preacher can be preachy sometimes, but he has always been about faith. My father and sister are not what I expected, but I had faith and I found them. You have to have faith that we will, one day, rebuild. That all of this isn’t for nothing. We will overcome this.” I paused. “But only together.”

  She looked into my eyes. Her cheeks had streaks of tears cutting through a layer of dirt on her face. She pursed her lips and nodded.

  “Okay,” she mumbled and then said louder, “Okay. You’re right.”

  Jenna wiped her face and took a deep breath.

  “If you tell anyone I was crying, I will tell them about that noise you make,” she said in her normal sassy tone.

  I smiled and agreed.

  Big Red thundered to life as Jenna and I made our way down to the ground floor of the barn. Campbell and Doctor Tripp were heading out to my parents’ house. I doubted they would find anything conclusive, but the good Doctor insisted.

  Jenna walked over to join Karina, who was feeding Boomer a snack while Preacher sat next to her cooking something on the stove. I headed to the Stryker, glancing over at the group of villains as I passed. DJ and Enrique were standing watch over my sister now. She was the only one not gagged. Maybe it was because she had the scarf covering her scarred face or because she hadn’t said a word since we had secured her and her friends. Either way, she sat silently, eyeing everyone in our group with disdain.

  Preacher saw me and quickly stood, meeting me before I reached the Stryker.

  “Christian,” he smiled. “I know it’s not exactly what you were expecting, but congratulations. You found them.”

  “Thanks.” I looked over at Trinity and then returned to Preacher. “I guess you heard about my Dad, too?”

  He nodded somberly.

  “Yes. But he is alive. Remember that.”

  “I know. The whole story, though… What he did to my sister…”

  “I know, son. There is a plan. We may not see it, but it is there.”

  I nodded, not wanting to continue the conversation. There wasn’t time for me to consider some mystical plan that God might have. If it were anyone else that said that to me, I might have lashed out at them. But Preacher spoke from the heart, and it was hard to argue against that. Even if I didn’t agree.

  I patted him on his shoulder as I walked by.

  Still clutching the family picture to my side, I met Fish at the Stryker.

  The armored vehicle was backed up to the hole it had created in the barn door. The hatch was open and I heard Fish cursing the weather.

  He was sitting on one of the seats with Campbell’s laptop.

  “Are you flying the drone?” I asked him.

  “I was,” Fish said glumly. “Damn thing can barely steer in this rain. Crashed it next to the bus.”

  “Want me to get it?”

  Fish contemplated.

  “We’ll both go, kid. I need to talk to you anyway.”

  I suddenly felt like a child as I summoned Boomer to my side. I was sure Fish was going to reprimand me for ignoring him the previous day.

  The three of us left the safety of the barn, exiting through the side door.

  The rainfall was mild, yet surprisingly refreshing. There was a sense of safety rather than annoyance that came with weather like this. Strong enough to keep zombies huddled and confused, yet weak enough to not feel weighed down. Weather like this use to send me scampering for my car after class, or keep me indoors. Now, it was a blessing and I relished it as it washed some of the dank from my soul.

  I kept the picture frame in my left hand while my right held the grip of my AR15 tight. Boomer darted outside, enjoying the open and fresh air, even if it was tinged with the metallic waft of rain and the odor of decay from the nearby zombies.

  “Why couldn’t you listen to me, kid?” Fish asked as we walked toward the CDC bus.

  “Because of this,” I said, holding the picture up. “I couldn’t just let him go. I couldn’t let my sister go.”

  Fish glossed over the photo, taking note of my father in his Air Force Dress Blues, my mother in her Sunday best and my sister wearing a yellow flowered summer dress.

  “Your father was a Colonel?” Fish asked, changing the path of the conversation.

  Surprised by his maneuver, I balked.

  “Y-yeah. Umm, twenty some-odd years.”

  We rounded the bus and saw the drone lying in the muck. Fish knelt down and twirled one of the four blades on the UAV.

  “What did he do?”

  “Something with logistics,” I said, eyeing him questionably.

  Fish picked up a small stone in the mud next to the drone and motioned with it at the picture I held.

  “That man in the picture, that wasn’t the same man I saw at your house.”

  I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure where he was going with this discussion.

  “And that girl? That ain’t your sister in there,” he said with a nudge of his head at the barn. “Not the same one in that photo.”

  “It’s still my father. Still my sister. They’re just different. How could anyone be the same after all this? I know I’m not,” I said defensively.

  “Yeah,” he said, standing up, “you’re not. You’re better.”

  He stared off, watching the rain fall as he continued.

  “I know I’m an asshole, kid. It’s just who I am. But I’ve seen a lot in my years. Learned a lot about people and how they evolve and how they change.”

  “I don’t need to be lectur
ed,” I said, annoyed. I turned and began to walk away.

  “Stop!” he growled. “I’m not done.”

  I obeyed, but didn’t turn back around.

  He stepped closer.

  “Remember what happened to Judy?”

  I nodded.

  “Watching people morph into something else, it’s not easy. You know, my father was a good man, too. He was a steelworker,” he said and I could almost see him smiling. “Worked long hours to provide for my mother and me.”

  I wasn’t sure what type of life lesson he was trying to give me, but I wasn’t in the mood.

  “Fish, I—”

  “Hear me out,” he said, his voice lowering.

  “When I was a teenager, the steel mill closed down. By the time I had left for the Army, my dad was working at a quickie mart, making minimum wage. It was tough for both his pride and our family. My mother passed away soon after I left. He turned to alcohol, self-medicating, ya know? He became bitter, angry, and wasn’t anything like the strong, good man I grew up with.”

  “I stopped going to see him after his alcoholism became too much for me to bare. I didn’t want to remember him as a drunk, but rather, the man that raised me. Last time I saw him alive, I walked into his house, saw him passed out on the floor in his underwear, and left.”

  “He died some years back. I’m thankful. Thankful that most of my memories are of him when he was tough and sober and not when he was a blubbering fool.”

  I turned, facing Fish. His eyes were hollow, recalling the distant memory.

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “It’s best, kid, to remember the good stuff. Your sister, your father, they’re lost. Gone. Those people are not the same ones you grew up with and they’re never coming back. It’s best to let them go. Don’t let your memory get twisted by what they’ve turned into.”

  I understood what he was saying. It was much like when I had to put Judy down. I had to watch her change into a monster. Fish didn’t want me to see that. He wanted her memory to be one of the nice lady that did our laundry and cooked our meals.

  I had to admit, most of the times I thought of her was when she was in pain, lying on the bed, struggling to live. I remembered the face, twisted in rage as she grabbed at me. And I remembered pulling the trigger and ending her life.