Humanity's Hope (Book 1): Camp H

Home > Other > Humanity's Hope (Book 1): Camp H > Page 24
Humanity's Hope (Book 1): Camp H Page 24

by Greg P. Ferrell


  By then Kyle had almost made it to his house and was about to enter when suddenly Storm began to bark and gunshots rang out in the distance, from the direction David and Benjy had gone. He stepped out onto the road to get a better look. As he fought the wind to stay on his feet, all he could see were muzzle flashes in the darkness, firing at the area where the front gate used to be. That told him the first wave of invaders had arrived and the gunshots would only bring more. He knew they would have to move fast if they wanted to survive this. He hoped David and Benjy realized the same and that they fell back to the garage to make their getaway behind him.

  Kyle was almost knocked down by Mike and Kim, who’d also witnessed the twister from their guard tower, as he turned to make his way inside his house. “Get to the garage and get one of the vehicles ready for evacuation. Brian is getting the kids loaded in the bus, and we’ll meet up at the designated spot.”

  “We’re not leaving without our daughter,” Mike yelled back. “We’ll take her with us and meet you there.”

  Before Kyle could give any argument, he watched as the two concerned parents took off toward the garage. He knew there would be no arguing, so, instead, he continued on to get his own child to safety.

  As Kyle entered his house, he immediately realized something was wrong. Ron should have come out right away, and the recently repaired back door stood wide open again. He cautiously raised his gun and just as he began to scan the room, he was startled by the appearance of a stranger in military gear coming around the corner from his bedroom. Instinctively, Kyle fired at the stranger. The blast caught the intruder squarely in the chest and he went down. Confident that the intruder wasn’t alone, Kyle went into defensive mode. He backed up to the front door and squatted to make himself as small a target as possible, and waited to see if anybody else appeared. After a few seconds, nothing greeted him except for the wind rushing in through the back door, and he wondered if he was truly alone. He worried why his shot hadn’t brought Ron running out. “Please have gotten Hope to safety,” he muttered to himself, hoping for the best.

  As he continued to listen for any sound of approaching danger, he heard a muffled yell come from Hope’s room, then something hit the wall. He leapt up from his secure position and charged into his daughter’s room, unaware of what he would find, but unwilling to risk his daughter’s safety. As he kicked the door open, he was met by the sight of a young, well-dressed, man drenched from the rain standing in the room. He held Ron up against the wall with his hand over his face and mouth. The stranger turned and stared at Kyle, and it appeared as if he wasn’t even struggling to hold his friend up against the wall with only one hand. Kyle attempted to fire a shot at the intruder, but before he could even fully bring the gun around, the strange man twisted his wrist and snapped Ron’s neck. Kyle watched in horror as Ron’s body went limp in the intruder’s hand.

  Kyle screamed and pulled the trigger on his weapon and unloaded into the murderer standing before him. All the shots connected, and the stranger was knocked across the room. He tried to twist and turn in a vain attempt to avoid the shots, but to no avail. Still aware of the need to conserve ammo, Kyle stopped after five shots, satisfied it would be enough to avenge his friend. He then dropped his gun and rushed over to his daughter’s side to make sure she was unharmed.

  The loudness of a 12-gauge shotgun in such close quarters was shocking enough that it completely woke Hope, and for the first time since she fell ill. She sat up and tried to get her bearings, to figure out where she was, and what was going on around her, and why her foot was tied to the bedpost. “Daddy, why’s there a man lying in the corner?” She looked at the stranger Kyle just shot.

  With the sight of her sitting up coupled with the adrenaline and the shock of the past few moments, Kyle almost collapsed. All he could do was grab her and hug her. He finally snapped back to the moment and reached into his pocket for his knife to cut her free from the bed. “Can you walk? We have to get out of here. The camp is being overrun.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Hope said as she removed the covers from her legs and turned to step out of the bed. As she steadied herself, she was violently thrown off the bed and to the floor. After a brief roll she caught her balance and stood up to find that the stranger on the floor had gotten back up and was attacking her father.

  Kyle feverishly grappled with the stranger, trying to get some leverage to throw him off. But just as soon as Kyle got a good grip on the stranger’s arm, who was a lot stronger than he looked, he would counter Kyle’s grab. The stranger then let out a deep growl, grabbed ahold of Kyle’s left arm, then twisted it until it broke to the point that the bone came through the skin. He then picked Kyle up and threw him across the room like a stuffed animal before he turned and grinned at Hope. He then leapt across the room and grabbed Hope by the neck and slammed her into the wall and steadily increased the pressure on her throat.

  Then he spoke for the first time. “You maggots have really pissed me off. I will enjoy this.” He looked down at the multiple holes in his clothes from Kyle’s shots.

  Somehow, through all the fear and pain, Hope looked down and noticed that although he was full of holes, there was no blood anywhere.

  Hope struggled and kicked at her attacker as she felt herself lifted off the ground, but it was as if he had her neck in a vice grip; she couldn’t break free. She started to feel herself lose consciousness and then she remembered some of the moves Renee had taught her from her years of taking karate. She reached up into the stranger’s face and stuck her thumbs into his eyes until he let out a scream and dropped her. Taking advantage of the moment, she lunged into the man, using her elbows and knees, and struck him several times in various spots of his torso until he started to back up. She then swung a right hook into the side of his head as hard as she could and was completely shocked when it connected and sent her attacker sideways through her closet doors, shattering them.

  Hope jumped across her bed to where her dad was passed out from the trauma, and scooped him up with almost no effort. She threw him over her shoulder and proceeded to head out of the room to get him some help for his wound. As she spun around to head out the door, she was stopped in her tracks by the sight of the stranger standing in her way. As he moved forward to grab her, she instinctively reached forward with her hand to push him away. To her amazement, she not only made contact with her aggressor, but she noticed that she had managed to completely insert her hand into his chest. For a very long second Hope, with her dad still slung over her shoulder, stared at her hand inside his chest until Hope realized she had somehow managed to grab ahold of something hard in the middle of his chest.

  It was about the size of what a heart should be, she thought in that brief second, but it was cold, hardened, and did not beat. By then the stranger tried to free himself from her grasp. He experienced pain with each tug of her hand, and decided, instead, to take advantage of the close proximity to his prey to finish her off before she could hurt him any further. He again grabbed her by the neck and proceeded to squeeze. This time, however, Hope tensed up her neck as he grabbed her and countered the pressure he was exerting.

  During his temporary confusion at her ability to thwart him, Hope simply reacted on instinct and pulled her hand free of his chest. She looked into the eyes of her attacker as she raised up her hand and produced the rock hard item she had just removed. She showed it to him as his grip released on her, and he fell backwards . She looked down at her hand and examined the item. It looked exactly like a heart she had seen in books before, but it was petrified and gray, instead of soft and red. As she looked at it, she watched as it and her attacker both suddenly started to turn to stone before her eyes. The stranger let out one last sound in his death throws that resounded like the scream of an eagle, and resonated through the house. The sound was so intense it physically hurt Hope’s ears and caused her to almost drop her dad. As his scream wound down, she watched him as he finished his transformation. In front of her was a
perfect statue in the shape of a man before it crumbled under its own weight into a pile of dust.

  Hope turned and looked at her uncle Ron on the ground, motionless behind the dust, and suddenly her emotions took over and she fell to one knee, with her dad still over her shoulder. As the gravity of the situation sunk in, she succumbed to the pressure and fainted.

  CHAPTER 53

  Hutch and the Old Man

  It had been three days since Hutch had arrived in Hilton Head, South Carolina. He had been on reconnaissance watch since he’d arrived, but not because of the slabs. This time he was surveilling the area because of a human. At least he thought it might be a human. He’d come here to see the famed PGA golf course, Harbor Bay, and possibly play a little golf. He’d expected to find the course grossly overgrown and in total disarray, but, instead, he found it was in incredible shape, almost pristine. With the world gone FUBAR, the manicured greens and fairways just didn’t make sense, so he’d set himself up to watch and see if he could spot who was taking care of the grounds.

  The golf course was out on a small island and Hutch had originally intended to simply drive over one of the many bridges in the area to reach it. However, when he’d checked, each bridge had either been destroyed or otherwise made impassable. He’d had to abandon his vehicle on the other side of the river and swim across. He’d done his best to bring as much weaponry as he could, but he definitely wasn’t carrying as muchas he normally would have liked.

  Since he’d arrived, he had not seen a single slab in the area, or any human, for that matter, but he had found several dead corpses lying around that indicated someone had cleaned house around the area. After he’d investigated the island a bit more, he’d found the golf course in its pristine condition and had taken up a spot to wait for any sign of its keeper.

  Hutch had watched for quite some time before he finally got some movement out of the corner of his eye. When he turned his head to see what it was, he was completely caught off guard by the sight before him. In a small golf cart, with a set of golf clubs on the back, sat one lone old man. As if that wasn’t strange enough, the man was dressed as you would expect someone heading out to play golf for the day to be dressed. He wore black and white plaid trousers, with a bright yellow polo shirt, and a straw hat that appeared to keep the sun out of his eyes, but still allowed the gray hair underneath to poke through. He watched as the lone man cut his cart across the backyard of one of the houses bordering the fairway of the first hole, and parked at the tee box. He then stepped out of the cart, grabbed a club and ball, then approached the tee box, as if all was right with God and man.

  Hutch continued to watch all this from his hiding spot on the third floor of another house bordering the golf course. The scene before him was so surreal, he almost convinced himself he was imagining it. Again, he doubted his eyes and mind as he watched the little old man, who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and probably didn’t weigh more than a 110 pounds soaking wet, hit his first drive. The man hit the ball so perfectly that it sailed high in an amazing arch to about 325-yards straight down the fairway. Hutch was impressed. He doubted he could have made a shot that beautiful, even though he was younger and in much better physical shape than the little old guy. He had to admit he would have loved to hit a drive that far. However, none of what he’d witnessed helped to clear up his confusion as to just what the heck was happening around the island golf course.

  Hutch watched the old man scoot from hole to hole, and by the time he’d rounded out of sight, heading to the fifth hole, Hutch had calculated his score already at two under par. With him out of sight and no other people spotted, he thought maybe it was time to approach the old man and see if he could get some answers. So he grabbed one lone rifle and headed downstairs and out the back door to find him.

  As Hutch opened the back door, he was startled by the sight of the golf cart he’d just been watching sitting on the back patio of the house. He turned to see where its occupant went and found himself staring down the barrel of a .357 magnum with the old man behind it, staring back.

  “Can I help you, sonny?”

  Hutch was caught off guard for the first time that he could remember since he’d been a punk in boot camp. He stuttered and stumbled as he tried to find the right phrase that might save his life, even though he had already figured out three different ways to disarm his captor. “Yeah, ah … can you please explain just what is going on around here? Because at the moment, I think I’ve finally snapped, or maybe I’m actually lying in a ditch dying somewhere and I’m just imagining all this. The only other explanation is that I’ve found the only slab-free, functioning golf course left in the world, but I can’t figure out how that would be.”

  “Well, sonny, you are very much alive, for now, but that depends on what your plans are. Why did you come here and how long are you planning on staying?” The old man did not appear stressed as he kept the gun firmly aimed at Hutch.

  “Well, seeing as how you got the drop on me, I guess right now I’m doing whatever you tell me to do. But, honestly, I was hoping you’d ask if I wanted to play a round of golf.” Hutch sincerely hoped it was what the old man wanted to hear.

  The man kept silent for a few seconds. Then he suddenly began to laugh so hard and so loud it startled Hutch into instinctive action. He spun and snatched the gun out of the old man’s hand and in a flash had it aimed his way. The old man just kept laughing through it all, and his raucous laughter made Hutch feel even more uncomfortable.

  “I hope you’re laughing because you know I’m not planning to hurt you,” Hutch said. “But I just couldn’t stand here and let you keep pointing this thing in my face.” He lowered the gun and dumped the ammo out to the ground.

  “Well, sonny, I think you did the right thing just now by not shooting me, since I have you covered from two different angles. And since you showed some respect by lowering the gun, I might just let you play a round of golf with me and my friends.”

  The old man waved his hand in the air, and Hutch watched as two more men, a little younger than the old man, appear out of the bushes from either side of the house, both holding rifles pointed at him.

  “I must say I’m impressed. I take it you knew I was here all along?” questioned Hutch. “And you just casually playing golf in front of me, was to get me distracted while your friends moved in.” Hutch tossed the old man’s pistol back to him.

  “You got it, sonny. I saw you when you swam over a couple days ago. We’d been keeping an eye on you until yesterday when you disappeared on us. But this morning, I saw the drapes on this house upstairs had been pulled slightly open and figured it was about time we met. Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re really doing here, and we’ll see what happens from there.”

  “Well, I was being honest when I said I was hoping to play some golf. I had my first job here as a caddy when I was 15, and I came back to see it one last time.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but Hutch hoped they didn’t see through the partial lie.

  “Really?” the old man asked. “Who was the groundskeeper when you were working here? And don’t lie to me. I’ve been playing golf here for over 40-years. I’ve known just about everyone here.” The old man slipped his pistol into the back of his waistband.

  Hutch thought quickly and replied, “I can’t remember the man’s name, but his son was Ben. I used to hang out with him by the pool between rounds, and we became good friends over that one summer.”

  “I remember him, he was a good boy, used to caddy for me at times.” The old man extended his hand. “I’m Walter. The young man to your left is Brad, and the one that looks like he just ate a lemon is Charles. So how ’bout that round of golf then?”

  “I’d like that. By the way, I’m Hutch.” He took his backpack, still slung over his shoulder, and tossed it into the back of Walter’s cart.

  For the next two hours the quartet of men enjoyed something Hutch would have previously thought impossible in this messed up world, a chanc
e to have fun in a safe environment. Hutch questioned them relentlessly about how they had survived, and more so, about how they had maintained the course. It turned out that as the infection had spread, the three of them, all widowers, took off in one of their boats and waited out the infection on the Atlantic Ocean until they felt it was safe to come back. Upon their return they had found the island completely overrun, yet with the bridges destroyed, isolated from the mainland. All they had to do was slowly kill the remaining slabs until they were the only ones left on the island. Ever since, they had gotten the equipment running and kept the course open for them to play on whenever they wanted.

  As they approached the 14th hole, Hutch had the honors after winning the last hole, he hit a shot right onto the green, with a short putt left to birdie it. He grinned as he watched the other guys’ shoots and they loaded up and headed toward the green. After all of them putted out and retrieved their balls, Hutch asked them to hold up for a second before they moved on. He walked over and retrieved his backpack out of the buggy and walked back up to the green. He set it down and pulled a small urn from the bag and started to sprinkle ashes from the urn all around the green and into the hole. As he did this, Walter walked up and asked him who was in the urn. Hutch turned to face him, and as a single tear slid down his cheek, he replied, “Ben.”

 

‹ Prev