by M. D. Massey
A few miles to our north, animals were fleeing some sort of disturbance. Using druid magic, I found an animal I could commune with—a female desert cottontail that had seen some years. She was wily and knew the desert well, and whatever had disturbed her was absolutely foreign to the lands she called home.
I gently merged my own thoughts with hers to sift through her mind. Rabbits interpreted much of their world through their senses of hearing and smell, which meant I had to search for more than just her recent visual memories. Immediately, three scent-images stood out amidst her slightly chaotic rabbit thought-stream.
Death!
Blood!
Human!
It was all I needed to get me moving in that direction. Stealth-shifting on the fly, my legs ate up the desert ground with long, powerful strides. Larry was still with me, albeit barely visible to the naked eye. Although he seemingly had the ability to become functionally invisible when sitting still, he couldn’t cloak himself as well when he was moving at speed.
“You’re obviously geared up for a fight. Care to tell me where we’re going?” he asked, just loud enough for my sensitive ears to pick up.
“Not sure. Something has the local animal life riled up, and I want to see what it is.”
“Um, just so you know—chupacabras aren’t very good in a rumble. We’re more the ‘hit and run and hide’ type, you know?”
“If there’s trouble, I’ll handle it. Just stay out of the way.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice,” he muttered.
Five miles to the north, we crossed a park road, after which Larry disappeared completely. I continued on, and a mile or so past the road I discovered what had the wildlife so stirred up. An RV was parked at one of the primitive campgrounds, its side door hanging from a single hinge and creaking back and forth in the night wind. I circled it at a distance to get the lay of the land.
“Uh, druid? I see a couple of ghosts wandering around,” Larry warned. “They look fresh, too.”
There were bullet holes in the windshield, and one of the side windows had been shattered outward. How I’d not heard the gunshots was a mystery to me, but as I continued around the vehicle to the downwind side, I knew why the shots had been fired. I smelled human blood, fresh and lots of it, as well as a scent I’d recognize anywhere.
Revenant! What the hell is it doing out here?
Months in the Hellpocalypse had provided me with senses finely tuned for detecting the undead. Revenants were a sort of cross between vampires and ghouls, the result of a human who’d been infected by a vamp but only partially turned. They had most of the speed and strength of a higher vamp, along with razor-sharp teeth and claw-like nails, but their bodies tended to decay like the lower undead. Moreover, they were mean as all hell, with a wily, feral intelligence that made them incredibly deadly predators.
I’d lost count of the revs I’d put down back there. They were fast, sneaky, and aggressive, and unlike deaders and ghouls, they preferred flesh and blood, not brains. So, they often left their victims alive once done with them—and, of course, those victims would turn once they succumbed to their injuries.
In the Hellpocalypse that wasn’t an issue, because there were deaders everywhere anyway. It wasn’t like one more zombie or ghoul would make much of a difference. But here? A single rev could spread the vyrus to dozens of people, causing an undead outbreak that would quickly get out of control.
So, I’d have to put it down.
I listened carefully for signs that the rev was still around. The night wind carried the distinctive sounds of a hemovore feeding, loud lapping and slurping noises punctuated by the occasional sound of ripping flesh. I soon determined the noises were coming from within the RV, so I stayed downwind and stalked toward the vehicle.
My plan was to enter from the side door, surprising and hopefully trapping the creature at either end of the camper. I had no doubts that I could run a revenant down in the open desert, but really didn’t want to risk letting the creature get away. I also had no idea if there might be survivors hiding within the vehicle or out in the surrounding desert.
Should have checked for that—sloppy. Best to just corner it and end it quickly, then I can look for survivors. And figure out where this thing came from.
Using every bit of stealth I could muster, I crept up to the entryway of the vehicle. The door continued to creak as it swayed back and forth in the breeze, banging every so often against the side of the camper. That all served to cover the sounds of my approach, but it also masked other noises that carried on the night.
For example, the second revenant that perched on the camper’s roof above. I caught a flash of movement overhead, then Larry blurted a warning from behind me.
“Look out, druid! There’s one on the roof!”
Larry’s warning came a dollar short and a day late. The second revenant had already landed on my back, and it was making short work of my jacket and shirt. I reached back and grabbed the rev by the arm, yanking it over my shoulder as I tossed it through the open door of the RV. Those vehicles looked solid enough, but the new ones were about as sturdy as a papier-mâché dollhouse. I must’ve tossed it a bit too hard, because the rev went straight through the opposite wall.
“Shit! Larry, keep an eye on that thing and make sure it doesn’t get away,” I hollered.
“On it!” the chupacabra replied. “But you’re going to owe me a broccoli pizza and some brewskis for this.”
“Whatever,” I muttered as I entered the RV.
Now that there were two ready-made exits, I didn’t want to let the first rev escape. The creature wasn’t going anywhere, intent as it was on its current meal. It was in the middle of the galley area, crouched over the body of a sixty-something male retiree.
The revenant looked to have been in her late forties when she died. She was dressed in mom jeans, an expensive technical windbreaker, hiking boots, and flannels over a long-sleeved thermal baselayer. Two small bullet holes punctuated the dark black veins that stretched across her face—one in her forehead, the other just under her left eye. She screeched at me as she hovered over her meal, warning me away from her kill.
Huh. Looks like she got turned here in the park. Something tells me finding patient zero is going to be a bitch.
As for the old man, his chest had been ripped open, ribs splayed out and his innards on full display like a scene from Aliens. Blood soaked his shredded white t-shirt and tan Member’s Only jacket, while his dead eyes remained fixed on a spot far above the roof of the RV. Oddly enough, his reading glasses were still perched on his nose, even after the struggle that had apparently taken place when he’d first been attacked. Plates, cups, and silverware were strewn all over the floor, and his right hand still clutched a suppressed .22 caliber pistol.
Hard to get a license for those—and expensive, too. Silenced .22 doesn’t make much noise and wouldn’t draw attention in an R.V. park, which was probably why he had it. Bad choice for killing revs, though. Poor old dude never had a chance.
I didn’t have time to screw around with this rev. As far as I knew, its partner was the original carrier, so I needed to track it down, and quick. I pulled out Dyrnwyn, lit it up, and calmly walked toward the revenant. As expected, she leapt at me, either to protect her kill or to add me to the menu. Without much room to maneuver, I stepped slightly to the left and bladed my body, all while removing her head from her shoulders with an upward forehand slash.
Her head went rolling out the door, while her body landed in a heap near the back bedroom. Not wanting to take any chances on someone getting infected, I torched the cabin with a fireball on my way out the door. Once the thing was up in flames, I tossed the revenant’s head inside, then took off at a jog after its partner.
This one was smart, but picking up the trail was fairly easy. Rather than stick around, it had turned tail and run toward the Christmas Mountains, off park land. The last thing I wanted was for it to reach that rough country, because it’d b
e harder to track there, and there were occupied ranches and homesteads out that way as well. I took off at a sprint, determined to catch it before it holed up at sunrise.
After I’d run for a mile or so, I heard snarls and growling in the distance. I pressed on, worried that the revenant had stumbled across more campers. As I came over a small rise, my fears were quelled.
On the other side of the rise, Larry was harassing the creature in an obvious effort to keep him from running off—and he was doing a surprisingly good job of it. The chupacabra would disappear and then reappear behind the rev, snapping at its heels to get the thing’s attention. Enraged, the rev would lunge at him, only to have its arms close on empty air because Larry had already gone invisible and slipped away.
The thing hadn’t noticed me yet, so I took a moment to study it. It had been an adult male, also late forties, and was dressed in similar fashion to the female I’d taken out back at the RV. Expensive hiking boots, technical jacket, thermals, the works. It was quite possible the two had been a couple and turned at the same time. Which meant the carrier was still at large.
Of course, there was another possibility, one I didn’t care to consider.
One thing at a time, Colin.
I wasn’t about to chase this thing another step, so I pulled my Glock from my Bag and switched out the magazine for silver ammo. Then, I carefully drew a bead on the back of the rev’s head and squeezed off a single round. Call it luck, but I hit it right at the brain stem, cutting its strings like a marionette. After snagging the shell casing from the ground, I dropped it and the pistol back into my Craneskin Bag.
Larry literally appeared at my side, tongue lolling through his crazy snaggled teeth. “Hell of a shot, druid, hell of a shot. You ever think of hunting monsters for a living?”
“No, that never occurred to me, Larry,” I deadpanned.
After checking the area to make sure we had no witnesses, I approached the body and squatted down next to it. Based on the skin color and level of decomposition, it was clear this man had been turned at roughly the same time as the female. I stood and began walking back to camp, absently tossing a fireball back at the corpse to set it alight.
Shit. Hunted by the feds, backed into a corner by the skinwalkers, and now I have to deal with an undead outbreak.
Or perhaps not. Maybe it was far worse than a random undead outbreak. Maybe someone was out here, killing people and raising the dead.
“You look worried, druid,” Larry said as he loped along beside me.
“I am.”
I broke into a jog and made a beeline for our campsite.
12
As I ran to tell the others about the revenants, the sun came up behind the mountains to the east, painting the morning skies in pastel brilliance. Sadly, I was too occupied with worry about what I’d witnessed to fully appreciate the natural beauty around me. My sole consolation was that Larry had disappeared miles back, leaving me alone with my thoughts for a few blessed moments.
Voices echoed off the canyon walls as I neared camp. I bounded up the virtually impassable game trail leading to the plateau we’d claimed, curious as to what the fuss was about. There were three female voices, laughing and chatting. Fallyn, Jesse, and—
What the actual fuck? Bells?
The girls were gathered around the campfire, sitting on camp chairs sipping coffee. Hemi sat off to the side, the obvious odd man out in their little kaffeeklatsch. His shoulders were tense, and he gripped a steaming mug like it was his only lifeline. Our eyes met, and he mouthed a silent “sorry” that spoke volumes.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Fallyn quipped as she hid a smile behind a cup of coffee cradled in both hands. “And from the looks of it, shit magnet found more trouble on his way back from the visitor center. I swear, Colin, we can’t take you anywhere.”
Belladonna’s expression was neutral, if somewhat bemused. Despite the hard stare she gave at first, a smile teased the corners of her mouth as she looked me up and down. “You look like shit, and you smell like death.”
Jesse sat slightly behind the other girls, observing them with a long face as she sipped her coffee. She glanced at me and shrugged. “You do look pretty rough, slugger.”
Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!
I decided that showing weakness at this juncture would be a mistake. Desperately in need of a power move to assert my dominance, I sauntered into their midst and poured myself a cup of coffee from the brew pot that sat on a cooking grate over the fire. The pot was hot enough to sizzle as it touched my skin, but I pretended not to notice.
“Hmm… something tells me you’ve all been talking about me behind my back,” I observed drily, still holding the pot out of sheer stubbornness.
Fallyn cleared her throat. “I’m the one who called this little pow-wow, so don’t blame them. After I filled Belladonna in on Jesse’s unique situation, these ladies have decided to raise the white flag.”
“I see,” I said, not really seeing anything clearly at all. “Uh, Bells, that whole thing you saw, uh, the other night—”
“She knows, Colin,” Jesse said. “I tricked you while I was under the influence of the Grove’s magic. You had no idea what you were doing.”
“And while I’m not happy about it”—Belladonna paused to flash Jesse a halfhearted scowl—“we were broken up at the time, and actually neither of you knew what you were doing. How could I hold it against you? After all, you thought you were sleeping with me, pendejo.”
Fallyn chuckled, and even Jesse broke out of her funk to crack an embarrassed grin. The she-wolf cleared her throat before interrupting.
“As I was saying, these two have decided to call a truce. And seeing as how you’ve been so conflicted where they’re involved, they’ve decided to un-conflict you.”
Jesse suddenly found something to stare at in the distance, while Belladonna’s eyes met mine with defiance. The serpenthrope nodded once as if to agree with Fallyn’s assessment. “It had to be done. You’re too kind to make a decision that might hurt someone, and too dumb to realize such a thing is necessary.”
“Hey, now—” I objected, only to be cut off by Jesse.
“She’s right, Colin. You’re too nice for your own good, and way too much of a people-pleaser. You’ve always been able to make the hard calls when it came to violence and bloodshed, but when it comes to relationships, you’re a huge wimp.”
“Encerio!” Belladonna agreed.
“Preach it, sister,” Fallyn exclaimed.
I set the coffee pot back on the grill, as my hand had been burned to the point where I feared it would be permanently attached to the pot handle. It hurt like hell, so I shoved that hand in my pocket, stealth-shifting to speed up the healing process. Needing a moment to process what was happening, I took a sip of coffee and promptly burned my tongue. Undaunted, I swallowed that hot slug of coffee, nearly choking on it as it went down.
Belladonna cleared her throat as she sat up straighter in her chair. “So, we’ve decided to make peace and cut you loose. After all, it’s not Jesse’s fault that she died while you two were madly in love.”
“And it’s not Belladonna’s fault that you fell for her while you were still mourning my death,” Jesse said quietly.
“Plus, I think everyone is in agreement that Golden Boy here is bound and determined to step in huge piles of horse shit every time he turns around,” Fallyn said as she looked at the other two women before turning her eyes on me. “Now, it’s not your fault that you got saddled with carrying on the druid legacy, nor is it your fault that you attract trouble like a turd attracts flies.”
“I’m starting to resent all the scatological references,” I muttered.
Fallyn frowned. “Are you done? As I was saying, your life is complicated, and that complicates things for anyone who gets involved with you. That’s a fact. Also—and this is purely my own observation…” She glanced at the other two women in turn. “Whoever chooses to become romantically invol
ved with you needs to be willing to accept the entire package, which includes your tendency to try to rescue the world and fix everyone else’s problems. And it’s unfair to expect you to change, just because those tendencies are inconvenient to your significant other.”
Jesse looked at Fallyn, brows furrowed, but she remained silent. On the other hand, Belladonna’s mouth was set in a hard line as she turned to Fallyn to object.
“Girl, you know it’s true,” Fallyn said calmly. “You’ve been expecting him to change and focus all his attentions on you, simply because you fell in love with him.”
“I’m not in love with him,” the huntress objected in a flat voice.
“Whatever you say,” Fallyn replied, “but it ain’t fair to expect Colin to change to suit you.”
Bells chewed her lip, eyes downcast and thoughtful. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Fallyn looked at Jesse. “And you came back expecting to just pick up where you left off. ’Cept you came back plum crazy, and he was already involved with another woman. Can you blame him for being more than a little gun shy now?”
Jesse held her gaze for several seconds, first with hard eyes, but gradually her expression softened as she turned her eyes to me. “No, I suppose I can’t blame him at all.”
I stood there with a burned hand, a scalded tongue, and my jaw on the floor. Meanwhile, the girls shared a collective sigh.
Fallyn looked at the other ladies with the barest hint of sympathy. Then, she turned those hazel predator’s eyes at me. “Now, that’s settled. Do you have anything to add?”
The girls each looked at me, waiting for me to respond.
“Take your time,” Fallyn said. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”
Frustrated, I poured my coffee on the ground. While at first blush it might seem like this turn of events would simplify things, in fact it would only made things harder. Now, pulling that thorn was going to be twice as painful, because it was going to look like I was using this as an excuse to be let off the hook.