Dead Eye Hunt (Book 2): Into The Rad Lands

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Dead Eye Hunt (Book 2): Into The Rad Lands Page 32

by Meredith, Peter


  He was afraid for Corrina. “Let’s see that arm,” he said.

  As bad as the bite was, the break ached horribly. She stifled a cry just pulling back her sleeve. A chunk of her forearm was missing. Cole gave it only a quick look. There wasn’t much he could do for the wound except pray she wasn’t infected. “We’ll wash it out and you should be fine.”

  It was only then that the dreadful reality of the bite struck her and she stared at her bloody arm like it was a rat on a stick that she wished she could throw away. She even leaned away from it. Cole touched her shoulder. “You had your booster shot. You’ll be fine.”

  But would she be? he wondered. She’d gotten her shot six months before and it was common knowledge that the boosters could be wildly ineffective. Cole told himself that they would be back in the city in under two hours, which would be plenty of time to get a new booster for her.

  “What’s wrong?” McGuigan asked as he limped down from the mound. “She okay?”

  “She just got a few cuts and bruises. Maybe a broken arm.”

  Corrina heard the answer—heard the lie—and dropped her arm, covering it quickly. “It’s my leg that I’m worried about. And my ankle.” And she was. The bite was scary, because, What if? But her leg throbbed and her ankle hurt just to look at it. She was sitting on a rock and when she put the slightest pressure on it, it raged with pain.

  What if she couldn’t walk at all? What if they left her behind to be eaten? Compared to that, the bite was nothing.

  “Go help Hamilton,” Cole ordered his former boss. McGuigan had been just easing down next to Corrina and didn’t want to do anything but rest for a bit. Cole glared him to his feet and when he was gone, Cole tore off his pack and broke out his half-filled water bottle. He was about to douse Corrina’s wounds when one of the creatures finally straggled up. It was limping badly, dragging a crushed leg. “Hold on,” Cole told her.

  The beast was slow and lame. Cole wasn’t much better off. He had just discovered a lump the size of an egg on the back of his head and when he stood, the world spun. He took two steps to his right, stepped on a slab that see-sawed under his weight. It pitched him forward and he fell. In its lust for clean blood, the Dead-eye tried to rush onto him but also fell. Driven mad by its hunger, it scrambled at Cole on all fours with its mouth gaping wide. It was so eager that it literally put its own head in the hood in Cole’s hands. With it blind, Cole had no problem knocking it to the ground where he cuffed, first one wrist then the other. “That’s three,” he said, with a sigh, thinking they had all the zombies they would need.

  It was a short-lived-sigh. Corrina had poured only half the bottle on her arm and was drinking the rest. It seemed like a waste of water to her, especially since the creature had also scratched her arm and part of her neck. She was either infected or not, and the little bit of water they had left wasn’t going to make a difference.

  Cole read the defeat on her face. “We’ll get back in time,” he told her. It felt like a lie. Everyone knew that women turned faster than men, and that children were especially susceptible. Still, he had to believe that they had at least four hours before she went critical. If they hurried, they could be back in two.

  “Come on,” he snapped to McGuigan who was taking forever helping Hamilton down. “Either of you have any water?”

  “I have a little,” McGuigan told them. “But I’ve been saving it for myself.”

  Hamilton grunted, “The fuck you have. We share around here. Let’s have it.” He chugged a third of it before giving it back to McGuigan. Hamilton then looked down at the female Dead-eye with the dart in its neck. He plucked it out, hooded the creature, heaved it over and manacled it. “Give me a hand getting her up,” he said to Cole.

  They both groaned in pain as they hauled the thing to its feet. It slumped immediately. Hamilton looked at it with a curled lip. “This one sucks. Let’s get a different one.” Dotted here and there around the collapsed building were a few zombies to choose from but they were all extremely mangled.

  “No, let’s try again,” Cole said. They heaved the zombie up and leaned it against McGuigan. “Just hold it up, will you? I need to take stock of what we have to work with.”

  All told they had four scatterguns with thirty-two shells, three Rikers with forty-four rounds, and one dart gun with seventeen darts. They also had two complete mask and manacle sets. They were out of food and water.

  Throwing aside his empty pack, Hamilton took a scattergun and one of the Rikers. “We’re traveling light now.” He gave Corrina and her leg a glance. “You gonna be able to keep up? I ask, cuz I ain’t slowing down.”

  Corrina felt a chill creep down her back. “I have the lock code,” she replied, stiffly.

  “So does Hagy,” he shot back. “I’m taking the Dead-eyes and heading straight back. Whoever falls behind gets left behind.”

  “Don’t be a dick, Ham,” Cole snapped. “We still have plenty of time to get back. The governor said nine tonight. We’ll be safer as a group.”

  Hamilton bent and hauled the Dead-eye that had attacked Cole to its feet. “Time is the one thing we don’t have. The longer we’re out here, the more likely another radioactive storm will come up or we’ll run into another horde or who knows what?”

  “I’m with Ham,” McGuigan said. “What happens if…”

  “Don’t call me that,” Hamilton barked.

  “Right. Sorry. I’m with the lieutenant. What if something’s happening back in the city? What happens if Monica gets wind of all this? People talk, even the governor’s people. There could be a trap waiting for us, or maybe she’ll block the tunnel completely. We need to get back as soon as humanly possible. I’m sorry.”

  Cole had to fight the desire to shoot him in the knee and say, Sorry about that. Let’s hope you can keep up. “Fuck off and die, McGuigan.” He turned his back on the man and put out both hands to Corrina. “Come on. We have to get moving.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered. She had given herself a little jab with a fresh dart and it had done nothing to dull the pain.

  He bent and took her beneath the arms and tried to set her on her feet. She stood, but her face was twisted from the pain and her breath ran in and out high up in her throat. He was forced to lower her back down as Hamilton sighed wearily.

  “You know what’s going to happen the moment you run into a few of these fucks.” He gestured to the two Dead-eyes who were standing with their hooded heads hung down to their chests. “You kill one which will just bring more and sooner or later, you’re gonna have to put a round in the slag’s head. Or you do it now and put her out of her misery. Either way, we’ll take you back when you catch up.”

  Hamilton gave the Dead-eyes a push from behind and the pair began walking forward, tripping over rocks until they cleared the area around the building.

  “I’ll carry you on my back,” Cole decided. She was small for her age and he was strong. He had her shoulder the pack before he went to one knee so she could climb onto his back. She held on, wrapping her good right arm around his throat and, letting out a partially muffled cry, tried to lock her legs around his waist. It hurt too much and he had to hook his arms around her knees. The pressure under her leg forced blood up through the hole in her thigh and they left a patter of blood behind them.

  The entire situation was uncomfortable for both of them, and ill-suited for defense. If one of the dead were to come charging, he would be slow to react, and if it was too close, he’d have no choice but to dump Corrina and hope she didn’t split her head open.

  Corrina was also surprisingly heavy. Counting the pack and the guns, he was hauling over ninety pounds. And she was a squirmy unbalanced ninety pounds that he had to carry over broken ground. Still, he kept pace with Hamilton and McGuigan for a quarter mile. It wasn’t his strength that gave out first, it was hers. By then the tranquilizer from the dart was kicking in. She had given herself a second, much larger dose. It had dulled the pain somewhat, but
not enough for her to be able to put weight on her ankle. The drug also made her lethargic and, combined with her blood loss, apathetic.

  She gazed at Cole with dull eyes. “You should leave me. I’ll be okay.” She figured another jab with the needle and she would be flying above all the zombies in the world. That sounded nice.

  “Shut up,” he said. He stowed the scattergun in his pack and then picked her up so they were chest to chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and for five more minutes he marched onward. Then she started to get heavy. His arms began to burn and his legs turned to lead. He went another five minutes before he was forced to set her down.

  He rested for only a few minutes before picking her up again. This time he only made it seven minutes before needing to rest. He plodded on as the minutes wore slowly away. Twice they came across stray zombies. The first time, he was just coming around the corner of a building when he saw thirty or forty of them crossing through a strange hollow building. It had been under construction before the bombs came and had only its glass outer shell up at the time. All that was gone.

  The dead were upwind and didn’t see Cole as he ducked back down. The second group was far more dangerous. As he crested a low rise, his back bent and his shoulders cramping into knots, he paused hoping to see Hamilton ahead of him. The twisted land was empty.

  Corrina, whose only view was back over his shoulder, saw an entirely different view. “Cole. They’re after us.” Behind them the land was black with bodies. They had Corrina’s blood scent and were coming up fast.

  “I’m going to need you to help me out,” he said, setting her down. “I’ll be your crutch. Just try not to put too much weight on that leg and you’ll be…” He stopped as she pulled out the dart again. “What are you…” His eyes went wide as she gave herself another dose right in the crook of her arm.

  “I need it,” she said in a whisper, her eyes drooping.

  He thought it was the last thing she needed, but when they started what felt like a three-legged marathon, she barely whimpered. They quickly fell into a rhythm. If they tried to go too fast, they came apart and had to restart. They didn’t test what too slow would be like.

  The beasts were mindless, and the lead elements would attack the ground whenever they came across the smallest blood drop. It slowed them down for a minute or two. Then they would be up again in hot pursuit.

  The pair passed the great empty bomb crater, and the granite store where they had left Jon; it was now empty. Ahead was the twisted water tower on the top of the ashen hill. Cole had to carry Corrina to the top and then halfway down the other side. He was growing too tired to carry her any further. Behind them the beasts were piling up in the ashen dunes. The drops of blood had been swallowed up by the ash and for a few minutes Cole hoped that the horde would turn aside.

  Gradually, rear pressure pushed the dead up the hill. At the top, the wind blew her bloody scent right to them and they fell over themselves to get down at her. It became an avalanche of blackened bodies.

  Cole pressed on. There could be no slowing down, even when the beasts finally saw their quarry. The two were stopped by one of the strange gully-like ruts in the earth. It was too wide to jump across and too deep to try to climb down and then back up again. He had to carry Corrina along the edge of it until they came to a tree that had fallen across it. The rotted wood sagged and creaked beneath their weight, but it held. Just as he got to the other side the dead air was cut by a high wailing screech. It was a blood-curdling sound.

  The endless horde had seen them. “They won’t make it across,” Cole said. At first, he seemed to have the right of it. The creatures rushed straight into the twenty-foot deep gully. The few that attempted to cross by the tree fell quickly—except one. It fell but landed on the trunk and began to claw its way across. Others joined it and soon there was a line of them crawling across.

  How many more would follow? As exhausted as Cole was, it wouldn’t take more than five or six to overwhelm him. He had to knock down the trunk but he was too weak to lift it now and the only tool he had at his disposal was his scattergun.

  “It’ll have to do,” he said as he pointed the gun an inch from the wood and fired. The blast took out a chunk, but he needed more. He fired all five rounds and then hefted the gun like a club because the closest one was almost within arm’s reach.

  Before he could swing the club, the tree trunk made a quizzical sound and then snapped right at Cole’s feet and fell into the pit crushing a dozen of the creatures.

  Across from them, the dead were unfazed. Like lemmings they threw themselves off the edge of the gully which was beginning to fill. The ones on the bottom were being crushed into a black jelly. The ones on top kept coming. He had only slowed them down.

  Tossing aside the now useless scattergun, he said to Corrina, “Come on. Up you go.”

  “My head hurts,” she answered.

  His mouth came open to reply, but what could he say? It’s nothing? You’ll be fine? These platitudes felt like lies. “Mine does, too,” he finally spat out. It was true. His head was aching, but he had a cracked skull, she didn’t.

  Or maybe she does, he thought to himself. Or maybe she’s just dehydrated. Or maybe there were a hundred other reasons for her headache. He believed only one, however: she was infected and no booster in the world would change that.

  Chapter 33

  Cole was running on adrenaline and little else. On the other hand, Corrina seemed to be getting stronger. She still needed help but if her bad leg took too much weight, she no longer had to stifle a cry. Now she cursed, spitting the words out in a fury. It was not an improvement.

  The gorge had given them a reprieve of a few minutes and they forced themselves on across the broken, desolate ground. They crossed through the dead forest and passed the black rectangle of a building where they had first been attacked by the Dead-eyes. Then they saw the tunnel that led to the Crag. The opening was a gaping black mouth that seemed to open wider as they approached as if it was excited to swallow them.

  Behind them the dead came on in a wave. There were thousands of them howling and gibbering, screaming their insanity. It was a sound that corroded the will and turned courage into terror, and yet had to be grimly endured.

  Once more, the horde closed in on the pair, who were flagging badly. They were drained, their breath coming in ragged gasps, their feet stumbling on every rock. The dead, on the other hand were just as frightfully strong and wicked as they had been when they first caught the blood scent. They were little more than a hundred yards back when Cole and Corrina entered the tunnel. Compared to the deep ebony darkness of the tunnel, the dim, stormy day had been like walking on the sun and for the first few minutes they were effectively blind. Cole was forced to slow his pace until they were going at a brisk walk.

  It wasn’t nearly fast enough and the only thing that kept them from being overwhelmed and swallowed whole by the horde was that the darkness adversely affected the Dead-eyes even more.

  They fell over everything, including themselves, causing huge pileups. They lost all sense of direction; some went left and others right and some went in looping circles and were run down by the rest. Despite all of this, the smell of blood drew them on and slowly they ate into Cole and Corrina’s lead until they were only steps behind them.

  By then, Cole’s eyes had adjusted enough for him to make out the vague outlines of the creatures coming up fast. It was too dark for pinpoint accuracy at ranges of more than two feet, which meant he had to wait until he could smell their breath pouring over his shoulder before firing.

  The Riker Ten roared out, lighting up the tunnel in flashes. What he saw was enough to turn his stomach to water: hundreds of black fiends fighting for the chance to rend him from limb from limb. They were so close that aiming wasn’t needed. He emptied a magazine into them and was reaching for the next when Corrina pulled him back.

  “No time!” she cried, her voice a rasping growl.

  She hobbled
on, helped by Cole. They stayed just out of reach of the creatures, frequently by inches, until they reached the underground river that had been a chore to cross the night before.

  Neither of them hesitated for a second. They charged in without slowing. For them, the water was something of a relief. Corrina suddenly became light, and the cold was a tonic for Cole’s many aches. If there had been time, he would’ve laid back and soaked for a few minutes. But this was their chance to open up a bigger lead.

  The Dead-eyes were confused by the black water. They couldn’t swim and wading felt foreign. They thrust out as if running, only for their feet to slip in the slimy muck that made up the bed of the river. They slipped under just as more piled on top.

  Cole saw that they would fill the river with dead bodies just as they had with the fissure. It would slow them, but not stop them. He sloshed up the far bank and then pulled Corrina out like a half-drowned cat. “I swallowed some of the water,” she said, her pert nose wrinkled.

  “I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he said. Because you’ll be one of them soon, he didn’t add. “Uh, you know because a little won’t kill you.” She accepted this with a small shrug of her thin shoulders. She had lost some of her rags in the flight and now with her water-soaked clothes clinging to her, she looked extra small. Tiny. He picked her up again. “It’s not far now.”

  The next obstacle was the cave-in, but after everything they had gone through it seemed like nothing more than another hill with jagged spears erupting from it. They were past it in minutes and, once it was behind them, they both had the sense they were going to get away from the howling horde. However, the beasts were faster than they thought. They came flying, rolling and tumbling down the face of the cave-in.

  A number were speared by the debris, the rest poured down at the pair who turned and hobbled for the gated entrance. It felt like a miracle when they saw that it sat open, the chain and hook dangling from the bars. Cole dragged it shut in the face of the first of the creatures. Before he could chain it shut, the beasts were piled ten high in front of the heavy gate, their black hands reaching for him.

 

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