We Are The Hunted (Book 1): We Are The Hunted

by Matlin, Perry T.

“That seems so long ago” I tell him after another minute of silence.

  “Ben, it was a long time ago. It was five years ago” he tells me. I knew that, but I hadn’t made the connection.

  “Yeah, I guess it was” I say, wishing more than anything that it was five years ago, when I had him.

  After another ten minutes, of silently staring at a screen that will forever be blank, I stand up. I look at them, as they finally break their gaze, and stare up at me. I’m about to turn the TV off, when the screen lights up. A different announcer is shown. His military uniform is visible. I hurriedly turn the volume up, so we don’t miss anything.

  “We are sorry to say that our President has fallen. Mrs. Clinton succumbed to her wounds this morning. President Kane has called for Marshall Law. Stay safe. Do not go to hospitals, do not go outside. A mandatory curfew has been placed into effect. It will be enforced to the fullest extent of the law, so stay inside and stay safe. God Bless you all” the man says, before the screen goes blank again.

  Silence fills the room. Tears run down my cheek. Our President died. Our country is in shambles. What are we going to do now?

  “Damn. What are we going to do? We can’t leave” Drew says. The mood of the room is somber. Chase shakes his head.

  “I’m leaving soon to find Peyton and my mom” Chase says loudly.

  "We're almost out of food. We have nothing to drink besides water and Vodka, which I might've taken care of, but the point is; we need to leave and find something to eat. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life in this stupid room" I tell them, and Ryan looks up from the book he's reading. I hadn't noticed he wasn't looking at the television either. Maybe we're the most realistic?

  "What do you expect us to do? They told us to stay off the streets, and it could be dangerous" Brooke says, looking over at Chase in worry. I know they're scared. Those monsters are everywhere, just roaming around; waiting for the next person to tear into.

  "I think we should wait until tomorrow, just in case and then we can go gather supplies from the rooms, and then plan an escape" Paul suggests. I nod in agreement, as does Chase and Thomas.

  "Well, we can wait until tomorrow I guess, but I'm leaving tomorrow and I'm going home" I say. I step down from the center of attention and cross the room to sit next to Chase. He looks over at me, as my arm touches his. A small smile springs to life on his face, but I ignore it.

  All I know is we're finally going to get out of here, no matter what happens out there, I'm leaving this place tomorrow. Just one more day trapped in this room. One more day stuck with him. One more day stuck with Paul.

  ELEVEN

  We sit there in the hotel room, each of us in our own little groups. I’m sitting with Ryan, Riley, and Drew. Emily is taking a shower, Paul and Lana are sitting with Chase and Brooke. Thomas is sitting with his back pressed against the door. He has his head tilted back, headphones in his ears.

  “Do you think it’s even worth it?” Ryan says, beginning his rebuttal for the current plan once again. I know he’s analyzing every angle of Chase’s plan, searching for every potential outcome. I know he’s nervous.

  “I’m sure. We need to look in any case. Even if it isn’t; at least we could say we tried” Drew cuts in. The argument seems old. We’ve been going through it for nearly twenty-four hours. Ever since Chase suggested we search the abandoned cars tonight for any drinks or supplies, before we hit the road in the morning.

  “Well I was just thinking of a book I read” Ryan begins, looking at each of us, before continuing.

  “These people were hiding from someone, but they got tired of hiding, so they left their spot. They decided to make a stop and they all died.” He explains. I can tell he doesn’t like the plan.

  “Books aren’t real life Ryan” I say, trying to dissuade his fears. This doesn’t help our case though because his eyes light up then.

  “You say that, even after the whole ass apocalypse starts before your eyes?” he demands, crossing his arms. He adjusts the glasses on the bridge of his nose, before reaching for his laptop.

  “That’s different. That’s a broad occurrence, you’re worried us walking down to the parking lot is going to result in all of our deaths” Drew argues, jumping in again to take my side.

  “But look…” he says, turning the screen of his laptop for us to see. “Statistically, we are more likely to meet a dangerous outcome if we leave the room” he explains. I look at his pie chart, the data points. The math races through my brain, the numbers calling to me. My brother and I are alike in that way. We are scientific, facts-based people. I disagree with him on this though.

  “Ryan, you can’t use statistics for something like this. You haven’t accounted for geographical elements, population, situational accuracy, or anything that would help to make specific numbers for this experiment” I say, my voice rising a little.

  “Ryan, look at it like this. If we don’t go outside, if we never check, then we will die in this room in the next few weeks. That is a one-hundred percent chance of death. If we leave the room and get supplies and try to leave…” Drew says, trying to speak in a statistical way, but unsure of what he’s actually talking about. He continues though, striking gold.

  “…then the probability of us dying drops to what does that say? Eleven-point eight percent. I don’t know about you buddy, but I’d rather take eleven percent, than one-hundred” he finishes. Ryan looks from him to the screen again. He seems to finally understand the point we’ve been trying to make.

  He’s always been hard to talk down from things. I know this hasn’t changed as he’s gotten older. He’s a very anxious person. He’s always seen the worst in every situation. I remember distinctly, when we were younger. I think I was thirteen and he was seven. Our dad was late coming home, so Ryan had this entire story about what he thought happened, he was convinced that dad was dead, his car flipped, his identity lost in the night. I had to talk him down, until dad came home. He’s always been so inventive in his pessimism.

  “Fine, but I still don’t like it” he says defeatedly. His face looks worried, pinched with fear.

  *****

  The hours seem to drag by, as we sit there, the room cramped as we wait for the sun to go down. Hopefully this can be a quick trip for supplies, and we can leave tomorrow. I'm hoping everything goes as planned, and we can go unnoticed for just one more day.

  Chase is sitting beside Brooke, as we continue to wait. I look around, just trying to pass some time, as I die of boredom. Emily is sitting against the bathroom door, scrolling through her phone. Riley and Drew are huddled together by the bathroom sink, I can hear them whispering back and forth. Ryan is sleeping on the other bed, as Thomas lies beside him, with headphones still in his ears. I avoid the corner of the room, where Paul and his sister are sitting. They have been occupying the door leading outside, and I refuse to look in his direction. I turn to Brooke instead. She is sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning her head against Chase's leg. I blush slightly, as I remember the brief hook up, we shared yesterday.

  “So, Brooke, tell me about you” I say suddenly, leaning over to joining in on their moment. I feel a bit invasive, but I need to do something.

  “Like, what do you mean?” she asks, a small smile on her face. She sits up, leaning against the wall beside Chase. I move over to their bed, sitting in front of her. Chase winks at me. I blush slightly.

  “Like, what do you do? What program were you looking at for the tour?” I ask her, wanting to get a sense of who she is.

  “I like running I guess” she says, looking nervous. I must’ve put her on the spot.

  “It’s actually her favorite thing in the world. She was in a bicycle accident when she was seven, and it was…” Chase begins, but Brooke cuts in almost immediately. I can tell she’s a bit more confident now.

  “Let me tell him bubba” she says, and the thought strikes me then. She sounds really young for her age. It sounds like she’s thirteen, not eighteen.

&n
bsp; “I was in a bad accident when I was seven. I was thrown from my bike and landed on the curb. I couldn’t walk for a while. They thought that I’d never walk again, but I did” she explains, and I picture a little girl, she looks just like Brooke, but younger, her eyes rounder.

  “I started walking a year after, by the time I was ten, I was at ninety percent function of my body. I started running. It felt so nice, so free after being so limited for those years. I just never stopped” she says, and I frown. I feel a stir of emotion for this girl and everything she’s been through.

  “So, are you doing something with track then?” I ask, thinking of Emily and all the years she ran in track.

  “Well I was, before all of this. My boyfriend and I were going to get an apartment and go to school. He’s a sophomore in college” she explains. I’m just about to ask her about her boyfriend, when his voice cuts through my train of thought.

  "Okay, are you guys ready? Who all is going anyway?" Paul says, standing up with his keys in his hand. I roll my eyes. I was hoping he wouldn't be coming along. I have to go, so I can look for my necklace I lost in Emily's car. I look around, wondering who all is going to go.

  "Only two of us should go, so I can take Riley with me, if you'll give us your keys?" Drew says to the room. Paul snorts briefly, before shaking his head in irritation.

  "I'm not sending anyone to get in my car, so I'm going. Who wants to come with me?" Paul asks. I turn to look around, and Emily is looking right at me. I can see the searching gaze in her blue eyes.

  "I'm staying with Drew" Riley says defensively, wrapping her arms tightly around his muscles, just as Emily moves over to sit beside them, shaking her head. Ryan and Thomas aren't even in the conversation, so I look to Chase. He tosses his keys at me, and I catch them, unable to move. Cursing all of them in my head.

  "Are you coming?" Paul asks me, not meeting my gaze, as he reaches for the lock on the door. I look over at his sister, and then get the courage to speak finally.

  "Can't Lana go?" I ask, and Paul snorts again. He doesn't move to leave, but neither does he speak again. I groan audibly, as I climb to my feet, and grab Emily’s keys. I did want my necklace after all, but I would rather have had someone come with as a buffer.

  "Whatever, I guess" I say, as I cross the room to join him at the door. He unbolts the lock and pulls it open. The breeze is chilly as we walk outside. I turn to look at the others, just as the door closes.

  We're alone now. Alone outside, in a world full of death. The smell is putrid, as we make our way silently down the row of dark hotel windows. I'm walking, slowly trying not to walk beside him in fear of setting him off again.

  He stops at the stairs and turns to face me reluctantly. I come to a stop about ten feet away from him, and we survey each other briefly.

  "What's your problem?" he demands, moving a little closer. I flinch at his tone but ignore him otherwise. I begin the descent down the stairs, and he follows behind me. I can hear his feet, just steps behind me, but he feels so far away. He feels so unattainable. Like, if I reached for him, he'd disappear. I push him from my mind, but he still invades the precipices there. He still invades every piece of me, and he never leaves.

  "Are you sure you're okay? You're never this quiet?" he asks me, as we turn down the last flight of steps. I shake my head, biting my lip painfully because his voice makes me want to die. When I hear it, all I can hear are the words he said to me that night. His voice brings goosebumps to life, they make me feel like I did that night. I remember his car, his lips, and every word he spoke as he tore me apart.

  "I'm fine Paul. Can we just get this over with please? I just want to get this done, so we can leave this place forever." I explain. My voice drops a pitch, as I say the words. Saying his name is like stepping on broken glass with bare feet.

  I suddenly realize that when we separate tomorrow, I'll likely never see him again. The thought really bugs me, but I don't say anything else because we've finally made it to the bottom of the last flight of stairs... I look around the dark parking lot and see that nothing is moving. The smell of death lingers, but the dead are not here. They are off wandering somewhere else.

  "Where is your car?" he asks me, as we pass all of the empty vehicles around us. I stop at a truck because there is an unopened case of bottled water in the bed. I grab it and heave it onto my shoulder.

  "You're stealing that from someone?" he demands, his voice rising. I look at him, and then to the empty hotel, with the shattered windows.

  "Paul, these people are dead. They aren't in their rooms, and they never took their cars.” I say pointedly, when he doesn’t move, I continue.

  “Do you want to just leave it here then?" I ask, motioning to drop the case. He sighs, shaking his head.

  "Where's your car at?" I ask him, as I tote the water with me. He looks at me, and I frown. Does he think I'm going to stalk him or something? Then I remember that his car is around the corner, wrecked.

  "It's over here, just around the corner" he mumbles, as if reluctantly. I roll my eyes, as we head around. I see him approaching the silver sedan, and I smile. It’s all smashed up, but I remember his car. Even though the worst hurt I've ever felt occurred in that car, I still smile at the events that happened before that hurt.

  "I bet you're loving this, huh?" he asks flatly, turning just in time to see my smile. It disappears, as I ponder his words. What does he even mean?

  "What is that even supposed to mean?" I ask him. He shakes his head, before continuing to walk. I refuse to let this one go though, so I follow him. I push his door closed, as soon as he opens it.

  "What the hell was that supposed to mean?" I demand, my voice way too loud for our situation.

  "It's just really convenient that you happened to be touring at the same college as my sister and me. Right when a zombie outbreak happens" he says, his angry blue eyes finding mine. I actually laugh this time. He looks at me unchangingly, but I continue to laugh.

  "Did you just accuse me of following you to a college tour, and that I knew this would happen?" I demand, and he doesn't move. I continue angrily, as he stares at me. "What kind of person do you think I am?" I ask him, my stomach dropping with sadness. The realization of how he thinks of me is heavy and sad.

  "Let's just get this over with" he says, pulling my hand off his door. The feel of his skin on mine, sends shivers up my back, as we stand there. The touch lingers. He then forces the door open and pulls out the cooler from the backseat. I set the water on top of it, as soon as it's on the ground. He looks at me, before pulling the cooler away from his car.

  "Do you really think I would follow you hundreds of miles, just to be treated like shit by you?" I demand, as we approach Chase's car. We hurriedly fill it with supplies, as he continues with silence.

  “Do you think I enjoy being treated like I’m the lowest piece of garbage on earth? Like what we had was nothing to you? You think I like realizing how much you hate me Paul?” I demand, tears finally filling my eyes, anger filling my stomach. It’s like a dam broke, and the anger is flooding my body like a scorched ravine. I'm just about to go off again, when he finally decides to answer my question.

  "No. I'm sorry, but you have been a little much at times" he says, his eyes wavering on me, as we empty Chase's car of the soda, he told us he had. I scowl at Paul, not knowing how to respond to his newest insult. I decide on ignoring him, so I take off at a brisk pace, heading for Emily's car. He speeds up, coming to an even pace with me. I look at him from the corner of my eye and see that he is looking straight ahead.

  "You know I don't hate you right?" he asks, as if to convince himself of the fact. I look at him curiously. I have to force myself not to laugh. His sentence is a lie obviously. His actions paint a different picture. A black, raging picture of loathing.

  "Funny way of showing it" I say, not looking at him again. He does a clicking noise with his tongue, as we near Emily's silver Hyundai Tucson. I unlock it, and crawl into the passenger seat. He
comes up to the open door and leans against the car. I can smell his scent, as I look for my necklace. The necklace I lost the other day. The necklace, I can't go without. Paul starts to hum something under his breath, which makes me picture his face, and he is smiling in my head.

  "Just because you got a bit crazy, and I chose to distance myself; doesn't mean I hate you" he explains, after the minutes of silence. I stand up straight, and glare at him, tears flooding my eyes.

  "You know Paul, why don't you just shut the hell up, okay?" I demand, and he smiles knowingly. He can tell he's getting to me, which is something he always used to like doing. I'm not in the mood right now though, so he needs to watch himself, before I punch him in his stupid-beautiful-heartbreaking face.

  "Simmer kiddo. I was kidding" he begins, but I glare at him. I look directly into those blue eyes and see with anger that I still love him. Even though he pisses me off, and he drives me crazy, I still love him.

  "Don't call me kiddo. I'm older than you" I say, He smiles at the familiar words. I finally feel the tip of the necklace on my finger, so I grab it and stand up straight.

  He notices as I put it on. I watch as he grabs ahold of the necklace. He holds it up in the light. His blue eyes flash with some emotion, as he sees that it’s the necklace, he gave me. His dog tags. He looks like he might say something but thinks better of it. He drops the necklace, turning from me.

  "Only by one day, so it doesn't even count" he says, the humor gone from his voice, and I roll my eyes. I'm just about to say something smart back, when I hear something. It's obviously a gunshot, so I drop down, and Paul follows suit. I look around and find the source fairly quickly.

  "Over there" I say, as we hide behind the car. There is a group of people in a truck, breaking the windows out of the insurance company just across the street from the hotel. I squat frozen, hoping they didn't hear us. Praying that we’re safe, that he is safe.

  TWELVE

  The sound of people grows near, as Paul and I huddle fearfully behind the car. I hold my breath, unable to move in fright of being heard or seen. I wish more than anything that the people next door were here to help us, but they're robbing the business. They could kill us, and everyone in our room if they find us here.