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

by Matlin, Perry T.

  The car races forward, plowing through the street. The infected seem to turn their nasty sunken faces to us in unison. Chase laughs bitterly, as we ruin the grass of the perfectly kept yard. We jolt, as the tires find asphalt again. I look behind us, as we find ourselves safely off the street. The infected are now stumbling at us from the right, but our path is clear.

  I watch as they slowly wander toward us, their drunken stumbling disconcerting still. Chase turns the car left, and we race away from the mob of dead. I watch as they grow smaller and smaller with distance. I begin to feel safer with each yard we put between us and them. Distance is safety.

  I think about the others then. Paul is just ahead of us. I hope they’re safe. I wish I had ridden with him instead, but I’m glad I cleared the air with Chase. I just wish I could see him. I wish I knew for sure that he’s safe. An image of him being torn apart by the monsters behind us invades my mind rabidly.

  I think of Emily and my brother and sister. We haven’t heard from them in twenty-four hours. I have a dreadful feeling in my stomach, and each additional minute of silence, of uncertainty causes it to grow, to thrive as my nerves peak higher and higher. Are they alive? Are they safe?

  Chase turns onto the highway at that moment. We are finally going to get out of this town, and head back to my home. I begin my inner pleading for my dad and the rest of my family to be safe, to be alive. I turn my gaze to the road ahead, pushing the doubts, the worries from my mind. I have to be positive.

  “So, what did you wanna do for dinner tonight?” I ask him, but just as he goes to answer, something catches his eye. He snaps his head away from me, his eyes searching for something. I hear the gasp escape his lips, as he swerves into the empty lane beside us. I turn to look too and at first, I see nothing. I then see the silver car as well. The car I know too well.

  Emily’s car is parked right there, its lights off, its back window shattered. I feel the lump rise in my throat, as Chase pulls into the parking lot. Did Paul see it? That’s when I notice his car next to hers. I feel my blood pumping, my heart racing, as Chase comes to a stop just behind Paul’s car. I jump from the car.

  Chase follows me, as we come up on the two cars. I see immediately that nobody is in them. They are abandoned. Paul’s motor is still hot, as my fingers rest on the hood, but Emily’s is cool, unused. They’ve been here for a while. I wonder what could’ve brought them here. I try to remember if the window was smashed last time, I saw the car.

  It definitely wasn’t smashed like this. That’s when I notice what caused the glass to break. The window was shot out. The bullet is lodged in the dash of the car. I feel my arms shaking, as we stand there. I feel frozen. I want to run to them, I want to find my family, my friends, but my legs won’t move. Chase takes off running then, and I find my legs.

  I run after him, falling behind as his long legs carry him to the store. I let my eyes dart around the parking lot, as we make it to the front doors. Where are the people who shot at them? Were they hit? Are we being watched? The thought creeps me out. I look around again, as Chase forces the automatic doors open and we run inside.

  We find ourselves in the front of the store. It’s set up like any Publix, but the lights are off. The darkness gives me an ominous feeling, a feeling I can’t shake. I look to Chase, as he hands over what looks like a PVC pipe. I can still feel the gun in my waistband. I hope I don’t have to use it, but I will if I have to. The thought gives me a terrible feeling in my stomach. The feeling of control is slipping.

  Chase moves in front of me, as we make our way deeper into the store. I want to yell for them, but I know the element of surprise may be the determining factor here. It could very well save our lives.

  I make it to the first aisle, and let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. I think I can see some type of movement, but is that one of us, or one of them? I make my way down the aisle, Chase’s soft footsteps fading into silence, as we part ways. I’m utterly alone now, so I reach down and pull out the handgun. I’m ready for an enemy, as I hold the gun at arm’s length.

  I come to the end of the aisle and look around again. The flash of movement is nowhere to be found. I take a step forward, waiting for anything to come into view. I’m listening for the growls, the sound of the dead.

  I’m just about to turn down the next aisle, when a muffled cry fills my ears. I race for the double doors right in front of me, the doors where the noise came from. I feel my chest tightening with panic, as my arms collide with the cold metal doors. They give way then, allowing me entry to the employees only section. The first thing I see is that the lights are on back here, the brightness blinds me for a second.

  I look around, just as my eyes adjust to the brightness. I notice three things at once. There are two infected on the floor, their brains splattered on the concrete, the back door is ajar, and Emily is sitting on the ground, her back against the cement wall, her shirt stained with a spreading circle of scarlet of blood. Her eyes are pained as they find me. She shakes her head, but before I can even move, the barrel of a gun is shoved against the back of my head. I freeze, my stomach flipping with panic.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  I instinctively raise both hands in surrender, as the barrel of the gun continues to touch the back of my skull. Internally, I wonder if it’s a bad idea to make any movements with someone pointing a gun at me. Nothing happens. I’m still here, but so is the gun, so is the bleeding mess that is Emily on the floor.

  Emily looks to my face, before her eyes find the gun in my hand. She shakes her head subtly.

  “I don’t want any trouble, look we’re just trying to get home” I say, my voice shaking. The gun doesn’t move. I feel something stirring within me then. Something, I’d like to ignore. My panic is receding, and in its place is calculation. How many seconds would it take me to kick him in the groin, take my gun, and end him, before he can hurt anyone else?

  The gun moves away from me, causing my whole body to relax, I ignore the armed stranger behind me and skid to my knees, coming to Emily as she lies bleeding. Now that I’m looking, she looks to have been shot in her side. The blood is pooling on the concrete floor around her, as she cries before my eyes. Is she going to die? I don’t think I could bear it. I jump to my feet, my own gun raised now. He’s not expecting this, so his arms go up in surrender immediately.

  “Who are you?” the shooter demands, making me scowl, acid on my tongue, anger roaring like the ocean in my stomach, my chest. It’s heavy, like weights being set there, making it difficult to breathe.

  “Why the hell did you shoot her?” I demand, pointing the gun directly at his face. He raises his own gun, but then I see something that makes me feel better and worse at the same time. He’s shaking. He is visibly petrified with fear, tears streaming down his face. That means one of two things. Either he was just acting out of fear, and he will be easy to calm down, easy to disarm. The other possibility is that he’s losing his cool right now and could be unhinged, which would make him volatile, which could be disastrous.

  “Who… who are you?” he repeats, his voice ringing just short of confident. I roll my eyes, my arms prickling with goosebumps. Emily is bleeding out. We don’t have time for this.

  “She’s my friend and we’re just trying to get home. Please just let us get home” I plead, my eyes filling with tears. All we want is to go home and shit just keeps getting in the way. He looks as if he might shoot me, when he sees the tears, but then his eyes soften.

  “I was just looking for a first-aid kit, when you came in” he offers. I nod at him expectantly. He gets the hint, before continuing to look. He’s making a point not to lower his gun, nor does he turn his back on me.

  “If you’re trying to help her, then I’m not gonna shoot you. Just find the damn kit please” I say, lowering the gun. He does so too. When both weapons are put away, my nerves subside tremendously.

  I take in his features for the first time. He is tall, much taller than I am. He has a baseball cap on,
but I can see his long black hair pulled into a ponytail. He has hard blue eyes that make him look older than he probably is. He looks like the average Florida man. I shake myself back to reality, pushing his features from my mind.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were one of them gang members” he says, jerking his head to the left. I look but decide not to pursue it. Emily is bleeding too badly for us to carry on a conversation. I look around then, for a first aid kit. There has to be something to help her out.

  “I just remembered. Hold on son, I’ll be right back” he calls behind him, as he runs off.

  “Em, are you okay? Where are the others?” I demand, turning back to her. She looks pale, but she’s sitting up straight. She is conscious, responsive. That’s a good sign.

  “They’re around the store. We stopped here to get something to eat. We had such a long night” she moans, pain in each word.

  “Is everyone okay? I saw the broken window of your car” I say, worry flowing between us. She nods, a painful laugh filling the room.

  “Yeah… we’re all okay, I mean they are at least. There was a group of military…” she’s interrupted by a very painful looking cough.

  “… men, and they chased us. We spent the night in a dental office. We haven’t eaten, or really slept or anything” she says. At least I know why they never showed up. They were hiding from people trying to kill them.

  “But everyone is okay?” I ask her in a hurried whisper. She nods, before closing her eyes. I watch as she moves to sit up more. Lifting her shirt, a little, I see that the wound isn’t too bad. It looks like it grazed her side, tearing the skin open, but not damaging her body too badly.

  “Are you… She doesn’t blame you, you know” Emily says suddenly, and I feel a weight lift. Riley. She’s saying Riley doesn’t blame me for killing Drew.

  “I thought you guys hated me” I say, tears coming down my cheeks.

  “Benny, I could never hate you. You are my very best friend” she explains. I lean down to kiss her on the cheek, just as I remember the first-aid kit. It’s only been a handful of seconds. Where is he?

  I barely have time to get antsy, before he comes back with a large plastic box. He falls to his knees beside me and opens the box. I relax, when I see all the supplies.

  “Do you… did you work here?” I ask him, as he fumbles through the supplies. He doesn’t answer at first, as he sorts everything out. I see alcohol wipes, hydrogen peroxide, bandages, a thread and needle and several things I don’t recognize. He puts them into separate piles, before reaching for a white wash cloth, and wiping the blood up with it.

  “Yessir. I am… was the Store Manager” he explains, as Emily hisses with pain. He cleans the blood from around the wound, and then surveys the damage. Blood keeps flooding out, so he reaches for a blood pen inside the box. He holds it to the hole, until the blood slows down. Then he looks again.

  On her left side, Emily has an open wound where the bullet grazed. Her skin is stained with her own blood, the edges of the wound are raised and a weird pink color. I shudder at the sight of it because I can only imagine how painful it is for her. As he begins to clean it, I look instead to Emily’s face. She looks sick, her face pale. She has tears running down her face, her lips are trembling. I grip her hand.

  “Will she be okay? What happened?” I ask him suddenly, my fingers still gripping Emily’s hand, as he works on her wound. I wait with bated breath, for him to answer me. The silence stretches again. I’m beginning to wonder if he will answer at all, when he finally speaks.

  “She’ll be fine. It didn’t even go inside. The bullet just barely touched her side, ripping the skin open” he says, causing me to exhale with relief. I’m happy not to have to lose someone else. I notice then that he ignored the rest of my question. Again, he answers just before I attempt to restart the conversation. His voice is softer, distracted with his work on Emily’s wound. I’m too afraid to look. I feel like I’ll be sick.

  “I was here the other day when those things popped up. When we closed early, I came in here. I’ve been waitin’ for somethin’ like this to happen” he explains, his accent growing thicker. “…I knew those gang fellas would come around at some point, but instead it was you and your friends. I’m awful sick about shootin’ your friend” he says, his eyes full of apologies, as he pauses the nursing to look at me. I smile at him reassuringly.

  “It’s okay… I’ll… I’ll be fine” Emily says, her voice shaking with weakness. She looks like she’s about to pass out. I wonder if she lost too much blood. I know she’ll be okay, but will she be able to travel? I hope so. I look at her crazily.

  “He shot you, how are you so trusting?” I demand, ignoring his hurt expression.

  “Ben, he didn’t mean to. He told me to leave. I was just explaining who I was, when he lowered the gun, but then those things came in the open door. He jumped and the gun went off. He didn’t mean to shoot me” she explains. I’m still baffled at her mood. She’s so forgiving of the man who almost killed her. I guess her story makes me feel better though. He’s not a killer.

  “So, what have you been doing for four days?” Emily asks suddenly. Her voice is still faint, but she’s sitting up a little straighter, as her eyes swivel between the two of us. Maybe she’s trying to engage, as a way to stay awake. I turn to him, as her words float there, waiting for him to answer. He dips his chin, before looking at us with a sad smile.

  “I prepared for the worst. I rigged the store, I buried my two dead employees in the back, I played a shit ton of board games, and I watched a lot of Netflix. It’s been a pretty boring few days if you ask me, but I knew something would happen eventually. I just knew that boring wouldn’t last. Boring never lasts around here” he explains. I nod, understanding perfectly. I wish we could have boring. I wish more than anything that my life could be boring, could be basic again. I miss it more than anything.

  “Life works that way though now doesn’t it?” he asks us, the silence funneling between us. I continue to grip Emily’s hand, as I dip my chin in agreement. The silence stays there for a moment.

  “How about we make a deal young man?” he asks me. I look at him suddenly, reluctant to make deals with this strange man. He may seem nice, but he did just shoot Emily. I know he was scared, but he still showed that he is capable of shooting someone. I know I have no room to judge, but I’m still leery. How do we know we can trust him, when we don’t even know him?

  “I’ll let you go shopping for free in here. You can take whatever you want from here. You can have as much as you need” he says, and my breath catches. That would be so helpful. That sounds like a dream, but something stops me. The deal is one-sided. He hasn’t told me what he wants in return. That’s sneaky.

  “What do you want in return?” I ask him, my voice is kind but cautious. I’m not walking blindly into that. What does he think I am? Is he seriously playing Rumpelstiltskin right now? He laughs at my quick thinking. He wasn’t expecting me to catch the lack of explanation. I smile at his underestimation of who I am, who I’m becoming. I realize with unease that I don’t trust him. I look around, wishing I could go check on the others. I hope they’re all okay out in the dark.

  “Oh, it’s really small honestly. I’d just like to come with you and your friends on your journey. I don’t want to do this thing by myself” he explains, and I stiffen. I think about it. We could use another person, but do I really trust him enough to take him along with us? He is offering us as many supplies as we want.

  “Let me think for a minute” I tell him, and he nods. We sit in silence. I’ve been back her for several minutes. Has anything happened to them? Are they safe? I push it away briefly, fully intending on readdressing it as soon as I decide what to do with this deal. Is this a good decision? Should we bring him with us?

  I look around the stock room, my eyes landing on his desk. I stand up then. My hand drops Emily’s as I cross the room. I stand over the white desk, looking down at the contents strewn atop it.
I’m trying to get a feel of who he is, and as the manager the office will tell me a lot about his personality.

  In the center of the desk, a flat screen computer monitor sports the mascot for a Florida college. On the right side of the computer there are several photos. The man with two children. One at the park, one at the beach, and one in front of a small blue house. I smile at the little photos. They capture the love he felt for those children in that moment.

  “Are these your kids?” I ask him, turning to look at him and Emily. His head is bowed. I can tell the question bothers him. I’m about to change the subject, but once again he waits way too long to answer, until I’m not expecting him to. Then he stands up and walks over to stand beside me in front of the pictures.

  “They were. They died a few years ago” he tells me simply, his voice thick with emotion. I realize in that moment, that I’m going to say yes. The reaction he just had shows me his character, it shows that he has the same emotion that I need in our group. I think he’ll make a great fit, even if from what I’ve seen I don’t like him much personally. Personal doesn’t matter right now.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I’m so… so sorry” I say, my own voice growing sad with the turn of the conversation. I wonder how they died. It sounds like he feels guilt there, but does that mean they died due to something he did? I push the thoughts away because they’re none of my business. I don’t need to know that.

  “It was five years ago. They were both abducted from our yard. Their bodies turned up a few weeks later. The man, the man who did it was never caught” he says, his eyes rimmed with tears. I take a step toward him. That got so dark, so quickly. I reach out a hand to comfort him, and he lets me.

  “I’m Dan” he says suddenly, as he steps out of my reach. He looks around the room. Wiping his eyes with his shirt and sniffling quietly.