The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 1): Awakening
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Specialist Combs was still in critical condition. Daniel said he had done all he could for him. He had removed the spear-like flagpole from his back and stopped most of the bleeding, but he said without a real doctor, he wasn’t sure if there was anything else he could do.
Twenty minutes after the battle, I was ready to pass out. The kids were still in the U-Haul. Campbell said it was best to keep them secure until morning. But we would never see the sun shine on the Ace Hardware compound again.
The smell hit us around the time Campbell came back from finishing up with Vanerka’s body. The sounds came soon after. Half of our group made it to the top of the building to see what we all dreaded was out beyond our perimeter.
Even with partial moonlight, we could see them. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of zombies. We could hear them starting to claw and beat at the fence line. At first, it was only a few small groups, but behind them were more. They continued to press against the fence, pushing and tearing at it. We could see it start to waver as more piled on top of each other, trying to break through to a feast they knew was inside.
We might have been able to get away with one or two gun shots that night, but the barrage we fired to kill the invading scabs had brought every zombie within a three mile radius to our location.
Fish turned to Campbell, who was still wearing the grief of losing Vanerka across his face. Now it was compounded with the awe of the mass of dead building outside the fence.
“It’s time, sir,” he said evenly.
“I know,” Campbell whispered in return.
This, I realized, was one of the reasons why Fish was not completely focused during the battle with the scabs. He knew the gunfire would bring the walking dead to us. I should have known. Hell, we all should have. Maybe we did, but we were more worried about dying from the scabs than what might happen afterward.
The other reason Fish was distracted… well, I will have to get to that later.
It only took a few seconds for Campbell to motivate everyone into action. We didn’t have an ironclad exit strategy, but we knew what the essentials were. Everyone crowded down the ladder except me and Fish. We stood there for a minute, staring at the reflection of moonlight bouncing off the legion of undead surrounding the compound.
I looked at him as he stared off, not entirely focused on the zombies crowding at the fence. His expression was stone, but I could see his wheels turning. I had the strange feeling he was somewhere else, not thinking about the crisis going on around us. I wanted to know what else was bothering him, but I knew it wasn’t the right time to ask.
“Fish,” I whispered, “you said it was time. We need to go.”
It took a second, but he blinked and turned to me as if he didn’t understand what I said. He shook his head, and then nodded.
We both headed toward the ladder, turning our backs to the horde of zombies beating down our gates.
Epilogue
I have to end this story here. The sun is fading and I’d rather save my flashlight batteries for defense, than writing. I’m hungry and tired.
If I survive the night, I plan on looking for a way out of this mess. We’ll see if any of the zombies break away after sunset. Maybe an easier meal will pass by. Not that I wish for some other poor soul to fall victim, but perhaps a car or a coyote will draw their attention away.
If I can’t find freedom, I will try and continue my story tomorrow. There are so many more I would like to thank, and so many more that deserve credit. I’ve barely scratched the surface. After all, it wasn’t long after that night when I met Dr. Tripp. The revelations during that time are what brought me to Hoover Dam.
I am already feeling weak, though. As disgusting as it sounds, I may have to start recycling my fluids soon if I want to live. Even then, it’s doubtful that I will make it out of here alive.
If I don’t make it, if this is the last the world ever hears from me, I just want to say thank you to everyone who made the journey with me. I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to mention you by name. Just know that the world owes you one.
Christian Hunt
About the Author
J.D. Demers
J.D. Demers served in the United States Army as an Intelligence Analyst for five years. After he was honorably separated from service, he continued to serve his country as a civilian Department of Defense Contractor for another seven years. Since then, he has returned to his hometown in the State of Florida.
J.D. Demers has been writing since he was in High School. His interests mostly gear him toward Science Fiction, though he does enjoy Politics, International Affairs, and History.