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

by Matlin, Perry T.

  I turn my head slightly and look into Paul's eyes. I can see fear there. Another gunshot rings through the deep navy sky. As the shot's echo ends, I hear the sound of the undead. We need to move, now. We can risk the looters seeing, or wait here, until the sick come upon us, and kill us.

  "We have to move Paul" I whisper, trying to stay quiet. He looks around, shaking his head slightly. I can tell he wants to argue, so I make my move fast. I jump to my feet and pull on the cooler. It rolls away from the car with a loud scraping noise. Paul jumps to his feet, looking around before following me under the roof of the hotel.

  I immediately scan the distance to the stairs. Then I decide it would be too risky to climb up them, and be seen from the ground, I pause briefly, trying to figure out what to do. I look across the street, as another shot booms through the night. Then I turn to the sound of the approaching monsters to my other side. I look back at the stairs. I know what I should be doing, but my body won’t seem to obey the commands my brain is shouting.

  "What are we doing Ben? We have to move, let's go. Come on" Paul hisses, as I continue to stay still, never moving. His words register in my mind, but it's as though I'm paralyzed.

  I try to move, but my eyes are frozen on the dead people walking toward us. I know we need to run, but my legs won't listen to me, which is not good. Paul continues to speak to me, his voice growing harsher by the moment, until he finally grabs me by the arm, and drags me along the rooms with the cooler in tow. We come to a stop at a first-floor room, and he tries the door, which thankfully is unlocked, and pulls me inside.

  "What the hell is your problem?" he roars at me, forgetting the situation at hand, as we stand in the room. I look around, finally able to move. I see the anger in his face, the red patches upon his cheeks. I can see the blue eyes hardening, as they peer down at me. I release a single sob.

  "I'm sorry, I just, I froze, okay?" I say, my eyes filling with tears. I feel bad for risking his safety, but I never meant to freeze, I was just trying to save the both of us, instead of squatting behind a car, hoping to escape both dangers.

  "Look. I get that you're scared. I understand that completely. I'm fucking terrified, but we cannot lose our heads here, or we will die. I don't want you to die, okay?" he says, his anger fading slightly, as he looks at me in the dim lighting around us. That's when I take in the surroundings, as we stand there.

  The place is only lit by the overhead light above the sink in the back of the room. It's a small room with only one small bed. I move to sit on it, as he turns to face me. We stay there, silent for a moment, before he crosses the room, to stand by the window.

  He timidly pulls the edge of the curtain aside, and peers out. I'm just about to get up, when a pang goes through my head. I close my eyes and lay back on the bed. As soon as I hit the blanket, something wet touches me. I jump to my feet in shock, turning to look at it. It appears normal, but there was something wet.

  "What is it?" he asks, noticing my disgust, and the way I'm peering down at the bed. I don't answer as I pull the covers down to reveal the sheet beneath. I gag, as I take it in. There is something crimson, a bloodstain the size of a manhole. That's not the only thing on the bed. Pieces of what must be brain matter are strewn within the bloody mess. Paul looks at it as well.

  "We have to, have to get out of here" he mumbles, backing away from the bed. I look to the bathroom, where the door is closed. What's in there? Nothing has moved. I turn to the door, but just as I step toward it, something rattles the door handle from behind me. I jump back, stumbling over a shoe, and falling back onto the bed, where I disgustedly cringe away from the gory mess, and land on the floor with a thud. Paul comes around to check on me, just as I look under it. A girl, she can't be older than eight or nine, is lying there. Her eyes are wide open, and she's dead. Paul sees my eyes widen, before I have a chance to shout, and he drops down onto me, pressing his hand to my mouth. I feel the tears slipping down my cheek, as he lies on top of me. I finally force his hand away, and whisper through the shadowed light.

  "Get off of me please. I'm fine" I lie, and he listens. He retreats, and heads over to stand by the window again. This time he doesn't dare peek, in fear of seeing someone peering back.

  I get to my feet and decide to check the bathroom. A numb feeling is beginning to spread through me, so I know I won't scream this time, no matter what I find. I walk to the bathroom door and twist the handle. The door opens, and I'm relieved to find nothing but a dried bloodstain on the floor. I turn back to Paul and see him staring after me. I close myself in the bathroom and turn to the shower. I wish we could run it, but with the looters so close, they could hear it through the wall.

  "Yeah, there's a light on. Let's do that one next. They could have anything up in there" a muffled voice says through the wall in the other bathroom. I turn right back around and run to Paul.

  "They're about to break in here. I heard them through the wall, but I have an idea that may work" I tell him in a hushed voice. He nods, then motions for me to take the lead.

  *****

  Five minutes later our supplies are hidden under the sink, I’m Sorry. written in blood on the wall, and Paul and I lying face-to-face on top of each other in the tub, which thankfully had dried blood, that easily looks like real blood, when water was added. I can feel his breath on my neck, and his heartbeat against my shoulder, as we lie together in the tub. I can hear the men struggling with our hotel door. We have to lie like this, just until they are convinced there is nothing to steal.

  "I'm sorry. I know this must be hard for you to be this close to me" he whispers, finally acknowledging that this has been hard for me. It feels nice to be recognized finally. Just as I'm about to reply, the door is busted open, and the men run in on the room. They rummage through everything, before finding the blood, and brains on the bed. One of them screams out, before finding the little girl. Paul relaxes, collapsing onto me.

  "Check the bathroom, alright?" a woman asks in a harsh tone. A few seconds later, they find the writing.

  "Looks like someone killed their daughter, and then split" the woman laughs, before continuing her hunt. Someone wriggles the door handle, before realizing it's locked. Paul adjusts his head again, but just as he turns, the door comes open, so he stops. Now we're stuck with our lips touching, and we can't move a muscle. I close my eyes, as the men cross the room. I can hear them speaking.

  "It smells so bad in here, like blood" one man says, before he pulls the curtain back.

  “Look, they died kissing" the man continues, with a roar of laughter.

  "I guess that's it for this room then. Can we leave some stuff in here and come back once we’ve searched everywhere? That way we don’t have to lug all this shit around?” the man asks, as the woman comes into the bathroom.

  "Yeah, we'll come back in a few, let's go search the rest of the floor. Come on” she laughs, before they disappear. I wait a few seconds, before I open my eyes. Paul is staring down at me, and our lips are still pressed together. I can see disgust in his eyes, so I go to move my lips away. He stops me with a slight shake of his head. I stop in the middle of moving, which actually causes his lips to spread slightly, and then I feel it. Even though he isn't kissing me, we are kissing right now. The feeling is magical. Nothing could ever compete.

  "We can't move, and risk being in a different position, when they come back" he explains, his lips moving against mine, making the kiss seem more realistic to me. I close my eyes, just trying to savor the moment, but he catches on.

  "You're looking at this like it's a kiss, aren't you?" he asks. I open my eyes, as he looks down at me guiltily.

  "It's no big deal, honestly" I say, my lips moving against his, as I speak. It sends butterflies into my stomach. I know he isn't kissing me, and we will never be a thing again, but I can appreciate the time that his lips are against mine, can't I?

  "It is a big deal because it means more to you." he says, his eyes filled with what looks like pity. I want to cry be
cause I never wanted him to pity me. I wanted him to love me, to forgive me.

  "I understand" I say, as I close my eyes to fight the tears. I know he's there, but for now we just lie in silence, waiting for them to come back. We just have to wait. We have to play dead, just until they come back and get their stuff, then we can get out of this tub, and I can get some space from him.

  “Why did you bring that douchebag with you? I thought you didn’t like him” Paul says suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. It takes me a moment before I realize that he’s talking about Thomas.

  “He was taking the tour with Ryan because they are going to room together, or they were” I explain.

  “He won’t be living in a fraternity house?” Paul asks, a humorless laugh filling the tub between us. I think of all the times we made fun of Thomas, as he grew up before us.

  “I guess not. Oh my God could you imagine Ryan in a frat house?” I say, laughing in spite of the situation. Paul laughs too.

  “Do you remember when he got Ryan in trouble because they spiked their Gatorade?” Paul asks, and I burst out laughing.

  “What about when he pretended to have a long-distance girlfriend, so Ryan’s friend April catfished him?” I ask. It was messed up at the time, but it seems funny now.

  “Do you remember when you used to come sit at the gymnastics place while I practiced?” he asks suddenly. The change of conversation almost gives me whiplash.

  “Yeah, of course…” I say sadly, trailing off. The conversation dies there. He looks down, his fingers brushing the tag on my necklace. He looks like he might say something, but he stays silent. I close my eyes, trying to avoid his gaze. It hurt. We were talking and laughing like we used to, but then all of a sudden, like a rubber band pulled tight, everything came undone. It wasn’t funny anymore.

  THIRTEEN

  "Ben? Hey, wake up. Ben" Paul says, breaking through my dreamless sleep. I open my eyes, and see his blue eyes, peering down at me with worry. I sit up, feeling my clothes sticking to me with dry blood. I'm still lying in the bottom of the tub, and the blood is everywhere on me. I go to stand up, but my leg gives out on me. I slip, and fall backward, but Paul catches me, before I hit the floor. My ankle twists slightly though, and pain shoots through my leg.

  "Shit, ow! Shit" I hiss, as he helps me out of the bathtub. We stand there in the bathroom filled with carnage, and then I look at myself in the mirror. I have blood everywhere that is visible. The feeling of nausea overwhelms me, and I turn around to throw up in the toilet.

  "I know. Let’s just get the hell out of here while we can" he says, and I look into the room. It's daylight. They’re gone. They came back and were hanging out in our room last night. I remember listening to them joke and talk. I thought they would never leave. Luckily, they never came back into the bathroom. We must’ve fallen asleep at some point.

  I think back to our awkward situation last night. We talked. We had nothing else to do. He spoke to me in complete sentences. I know it was clipped, forced at first. When all of that fell away, we were left with each other. The conversations we’ve always had. The chemistry that made me fall for him in the first place. It felt like it did before we were ever in love. All the years we were friends, and all the years we were so much more.

  "Yeah. When did they finally leave?" I demand, changing the subject, as we leave the bathroom behind. I look at the ransacked room, as we walk to the open door. It's broken and will never close again. I look around, as we come out of the hotel.

  "They picked us clean, so we wasted the entire night" he says, squinting in the brightness of the sun. I can't help frowning at his words. I didn't think it was all a waste. I got to sleep against him, I got to feel his lips moving against mine, and I got to feel what it would feel like to be loved by him again, to be wanted by the one that I want. I got to speak to him, to hear his laugh, his voice.

  "Let's just get the hell out of here. I need a shower." I say, feeling the crusty blood on my skin, and shirt. I could shiver every single time I feel the gross texture of the blood.

  I follow him up the stairs, struggling with my ankle the whole way up. We manage to clear the flight of stairs, just as two people come around the corner. I freeze, before seeing an elderly woman, followed by a little girl. Chase is walking behind them. I realize this must be his family. He finally found them. I smile.

  "Ben, Paul? What the hell happened to you guys last night?” Chase demands, worry in his face, taking in our bloody mess of clothing, as his mother guards the little girl. Her eyes soften, when Chase calls us by name, as I step in front of Paul. She seems to sense my intention because she relaxes slightly. Her braided silver and black hair framing her weathered face. She smiles at us tenderly.

  "We went down to get supplies last night, but those criminals or whatever the hell they were, they interrupted us, so we hid in the nastiest room. It was terrible” I say, as I launch into the full story. Chase’s mother nods in understanding, never flinching from the ugly truth of the world.

  "Daddy, when are we leaving? I don’t want those people to find us" she squeals, leaning into Chase's arms. I smile. His little girl has long hair, the same color as Chase’s, but her eyes are a startling aqua blue. She’s smiling up at her dad, her arms twisting around him. She looks to be around six years old.

  "At least you’re alright though” he says, his brows furrowing. I laugh darkly, before signaling for us to continue back to the room, where I can finally get rid of these clothes. So, I can have a moment to myself. I need to sort out all these feelings, all these new stressors. Everything from last night.

  "Yeah, those people were scary as hell though. I thought we were gonna die" I tell him, as he puts a comforting arm around me. It feels nice. His skin is warm against mine. I feel myself shivering slightly. I see Paul move away from us.

  “This is my mom Lily, and my beautiful daughter Peyton. Guys, this is Ben” he says, formally introducing me to them now. I give a small wave, as we continue forward.

  “It’s very nice to meet you Ben. Thank you for helping my children” Lily says, a hint of an eastern European accent in her aged voice.

  “Of course, your children are great” I say, not knowing what else to talk about, as we walk in a group.

  "What happened to your ankle?" he asks, pursuing the conversation. I look down at my throbbing ankle, and back to him. He smiles, as I look into his eyes. His face being this close reminds me of the other night. It feels weird that we slept together just two days ago.

  "I slipped, getting out of the tub, but I'm fine. Sorry to worry you guys, but let's get to the room, so we can get out of here. I'm afraid they'll be back tonight, and I don't want to be here, when they search the rooms again. That would be interesting" I laugh bitterly. They’ll find our bodies gone. I didn’t like the sound of those people. I shudder at the thought of them finding all of us. I shudder at the thought of them finding Emily, or Riley.

  “Well, all of our clothes and stuff are still in here, so just clean up and change. I’m gonna take my mom and Peyton in there to meet everyone. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks me again, his fingers wrapping around my wrist gently.

  “I’m fine Chase. I’m just ready to scrub last night away. I’m really glad you found your mom and daughter. She looks just like you” I say, looking over at the two girls.

  “Okay. Well I’m here if you need to talk to me… or if you just wanna… vent.” He tells me, flashing a wink. They leave us then.

  We finally turn to the door, and Paul pushes against the door. It pops open, and I head into the empty room. I want to get out of these clothes, before I see anyone. Paul follows me inside. I turn to face him, and he shrugs, before removing his shirt. He has a mess of gore upon his skin, but underneath, I see a scar. Before I realize what I'm doing, I reach out, and touch the smooth surface of his skin. My fingers rest on the cool surface of the scar. He jerks away, but he doesn't look angry. He looks unmoved, indifferent, cold.

  "Gymnastics s
car, did you want to shower first?" he asks, changing the subject. Right then, the moment passes just as fast as it started. I look away, retracting my trembling fingers. All the times I saw him shirtless, and I never noticed that scar. I frown. I know instinctively that he’s lying. That scar was not there when we were together. I would have noticed, wouldn’t I?

  "I'm sorry. I don’t… I didn’t... you can go first I guess... I'll go after you" I tell him, turning to the bathroom. He nods silently, before heading in. He closes the door behind him, and I'm left alone.

  I look around the room, just taking in the silence of it all, and then I walk over to the wall. I lean against it, and slide to the floor. Crying, I grab fistfuls of my hair, and let all of the pain out. How could I have left myself so open, so vulnerable with him again? I swore to myself that I would never give him that much power again. Here I am fantasizing about kisses, touching scars, and falling in love with him all over again. What the hell am I going to do with myself?

  "Hey Ben" he calls. His voice is muffled, but I hear it clearly. I stand up, crossing the room to stand just outside the door. I knock on it, before calling out, hoping my voice won't tremble.

  "I’m here?" I say, raising my voice slightly. I hear the running water through the door. I wait for him to answer, which only takes a second.

  "Will you come in here please?" he asks; his voice sounds weird. It doesn't sound strong, and confident like usual. I hesitate, wondering if I could've heard him right. I hurriedly wipe my eyes clean of any tears. I close my eyes, trying to muster a clear expression, one of composure.

  "What's wrong?" I ask, as soon as I close the door behind me. The steam is already gathering in the small bathroom. I see his bloody clothes crumpled on the floor, and realize I'm five feet away from him, and he's naked right now. I can’t go back there again though. We had our moment. I ruined it. I don’t have the right to think about him in that way. My heart can’t handle this. I push it from my mind.