HOOD: A Post Apocalyptic Novel (American Rebirth Series Book 1) (15 page)

“You must hate me,” she said.

He nodded, staring at her.

“But I hate myself more,” Hood paused. “For letting this all happen. I let Whiskey down. I let my sister down. Their lives are the price I'm paying because I wanted to chase you around.”

She moved closer to him, leaning against a red metal support beam. He didn't move.

“You should have told us,” Hood said firmly.

“What would you have done? Whiskey would've killed me. He already almost did anyway.”

She was right about that.

“You should have told me. I might have been able to convince him to help.”

“I couldn’t take the risk.” Her voice was quaking. She breathed in deeply to calm herself down. “I wanted to tell you. At first I was glad I found you guys because I thought it would mean my family would live. But I came to really like you guys.” She gave a weak chuckle. “Even if you did make me drive that fucking truck over a bridge. You probably think I'm insane . . .”

“But. . .?” Hood said.

“Even before the world fell apart, I didn't know anyone like you guys.”

Hood laughed, scratching his scruffy jaw with a rattle of chains.
At this rate there's not going to be many likable people left.

He wanted to believe her. But sending her down here was definitely Leonard's plan to soften Hood up. Was this just part of the game?

He grunted. “You got a funny way of showing how much you like us.”

She bowed her head, her hair forming a curtain on either side of her face.

“Just tell Leonard what he wants to know. If not, he might not bring you to the Kaiser whole. Leonard is a special breed of sick bastard.”

“Not telling him might be what's keeping me alive,” Hood said. He paused before getting into his next thought, keeping his gaze on her. “What do you know about the Kaiser?”

She leaned her head back against the beam, exhaling. “Not much. I've never seen him. He believes he's fighting some kind of ideological war, I know that. Leonard swears the man is the best thing that’s ever happened to this country. But he would feel that way, since all he has to do is fight for the Kaiser and he gets whatever the hell he wants. Without the Sons of Liberty opposing them, I'd be scared to think what the country would be like.”

“Can't get much worse.”

The two of them both stared at the floor. Silence filled the cellar, permeating the moment even more than the smell of mildew. She pushed off of the beam, her hands behind her back, and walked away towards the stairs. She stopped at the base, turning to face him.

“Do whatever it takes to survive. If it means anything at all, I'm going to do everything I can to try and keep you alive,” she said solemnly, while still keeping her eyes on him.

He stared back, waiting for her to leave.

She stood there, seeming to be waiting for a reply from him.

“If you're looking for my thanks, you're going to be waiting a while,” Hood said.

She looked away from him and climbed the stairs. He watched her leave, her long legs the last things to disappear from his sight.

He exhaled deeply, hanging his head.
Taylor needs your help. Whiskey needs your help. The entire town of Clearwater needed your help. No matter what it takes, I will not let them down. I refuse to die here in this god forsaken shithole.

He stretched his arms as far as the chains would let him, arching his back and reaching down to touch his toes. His whole body ached. He was too tense.
Stay calm, think clearly. There will be chances. You just need to find the right opportunity.

The door swung open with a loud crack and Leonard hopped down the steps and stood in the light. Hood's chains jingled as he wiped his eyes in the dark.

Leonard clapped his hands together, and held them spread out wide, shaking his head. “You aren't leaving me many choices here.” He ran his hand through his hair, meandering around in the light spilling out of the door.

“I've already told you the truth,” Hood replied.

Leonard nodded with a frown of disapproval. “You hungry? Horny? Want to pass on your seed before the end, like your instincts are screaming at you to do?” He stared at the darkness where Hood sat. “We got food, women, men, whatever you want. Cooperate and you'll get to enjoy a bit more of your short life. Make an asset of yourself and you might get to keep living, though it would be in the Kaiser's keeping of course.”

“The world to you must be a cold, dead place,” Hood said. “And I'd guess that was true long before this country turned to hell.”

Leonard chuckled, and pulled his hands out of the pockets of his suit pants.

“Before all this I owned a taxi cab company. Little place. First thing I did, when it all went to shit, was hold up the store of every piece of low-life trash on the block. Wasted every one of those greedy fuckers just because I could. Got this suit from the dry-cleaning place around the corner.”

He smiled and sauntered over to the staircase, where he pulled a pack of matches from his pocket and lit a corroded old lantern. He walked over to Hood, setting it down on the floor out of reach, illuminating them both.

“It
is
a cold dead place, my optimistic friend. And you’re about to get a lot more cold and dead if you don't tell me where the rest of the supplies you stole from the Sheriff are.”

Hood returned the man's confident gaze in the firelight. “It's all gone.”

Leonard lunged in with a punch to Hood's gut. Hood tried to block, but the shackles impeded his movement. He backed up, clutching at his stomach and slackening the chains. Leonard swung an uppercut.

Hood leaned back, lifted one of his chains over his head and wrapped it around Leonard’s neck, pulling it tight.

Leonard pulled out his revolver and put it to Hood's temple.

They stared at each other for a moment before Hood let go of the chain.

Leonard took a step back, stretching his neck and running his hand through his hair again to keep it slicked back.

“Bad idea, kid. I'm trying to give you a future.”

Leonard wore a devious smile. He put his hands on his hips, pushing back his suit coat. “Listen. I want those supplies. And I imagine you don't want to die right here. So let's make this a win-win.”

Hood spat. “I got another idea. Let's duel, pistols at dawn and all that crap. You'll be dead before you can tickle the trigger.”

Leonard rolled his eyes and walked towards the staircase. “Y'know kid, if you don't learn to work with people whom you despise, you'll never get anywhere in this world or any other.”

He moved slowly up the metal stairs and stopped at the top step, leaning down to show the look of dominance he wore on his face. “Now you get to meet my new pet. We found the infected freak wandering the streets. I call him the butcher.”

Hood heard moans and guttural sounds and the clatter of chains. A huge figure was forced down the metal staircase and landed in a heap at the bottom next to the lit lantern. He heard growls and it raised itself to its feet.

It was a man, hugely obese with wild, unkempt hair, his eyes scanning the cellar with a lack of recognition like a feral animal. He sniffed at the air before turning his gaze to Hood. His tattered clothes and huge butcher's apron were stained with blood. He shrieked, and charged at Hood with huge arms raised.

Chapter 9 – No One Will Save You

“Let's find out how badly you want to live, shall we?” Hood heard Leonard's voice hooting down the stairs.

“Stop!” was all Hood managed to shout before the massive man bore down on him. He dove to the side but his chains hampered him. He relied on quickness more often than not, but as the man swung his arms like clubs in a downward arc, Hood knew this was not a fight speed could win. He flung his arms over his head as the force of the blows smashed Hood's manacles into his own skull. Dazed, Hood tried to keep his focus on the beast, the firelight of the lantern casting him in demonic shadows.

The butcher clamped down on Hood’s shoulders and squeezed him like a vice. He felt his bones flexing under the pressure. A gutteral scream came out of the butcher's mouth as he opened it wide to reveal broken, bloody teeth and moved close. He was trying to bite Hood.

Panic set in.

Hood managed to cross his forearms in front of his face. The butcher's open maw tangled with the crossed chains attached to Hood's wrists. The rancid, dead smell of his breath was enough to make Hood gag. The butcher bit down on the metal. He recoiled with a scream, shoving Hood away, into the wall.

Hood smashed into the concrete, his knees buckling as he slid to the ground. His chest radiated pain; his body was exhausted.

Keep it together. He's strong, but he's not smart.

The Butcher charged at him again with a roar. Hood grabbed onto one of the butcher's outstretched arms with both hands and fell to the floor, yanking downward with all his strength. The butcher's momentum worked against him as his face crashed into the concrete wall.

Blood poured out of the butcher’s face onto the floor as he backed away screaming, his huge hands pawing at his broken nose. He nearly stepped on the lit lantern Leonard had left on the floor of the cellar.

He's still dangerous. You don't have room to make a mistake.

The butcher was breathing heavily and covered in his own blood. He looked like a bull ready to charge. He roared, spitting more blood. Again he hurled himself at Hood.

The chains only allowed so much room for defense. He had to wait until the butcher was close enough before he lunged forward with a kick to the butcher's left kneecap. He felt a snap as the man's knee bent backward. Another inhuman screech echoed in the cellar as the heavy man nearly fell on top of Hood.

The Butcher leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor, no longer trying to kill but clawing at his destroyed knee.

Do what you have to do
. He managed to get one of the chains around the Butcher's neck, and he yanked as hard as he could, holding it tight. The huge man thrashed and gurgled, clawing at the chain. Hood shook violently as he held the chain taut around the man's throat.

The huge man flailed his arms heavily, thumping into Hood's side and his head. Hood curled down, trying to make himself small while still holding the chain tight. Suddenly the Butcher heaved himself forward, dragging Hood with him, and slammed the two of them backwards into the concrete wall. Hood lost his grip on the chain, the wind nearly being knocked out of him. He heard the Butcher's sharp intake of air as he reached back and grabbed Hood by the back of the neck. Hood grabbed for the chain but his hand slid off, the metal slick with the Butcher's blood. Another great hand planted itself under Hood's stomach and lifted him into the air.

Raw, animal horror gripped Hood. Aglow in the hellish lamplight the wide, bloodraged eyes of the wild man stared up at him. The thick fingers of the Butcher clamped down on Hood's neck causing his neck muscles to seize in response. The butcher pulled, intent on tearing Hood's head clean off.

Adrenaline surged through Hood's body. His chains rattled as he grabbed the Butcher's thick forearm with both hands and dug all ten fingers into the tendons on the soft side. The muscles in Hood's neck burned, he tasted blood in his mouth, his jaw clenched shut. Hood felt the flesh separate underneath his nails as they broke skin and dug into the Butcher's forearm. He fell from the air, the Butcher's arm giving out.

Without hesitation Hood spun himself upright and pulled one of the chains around the huge man's neck once more and pulled it tight with his whole body. Hood laced his fingers through the links in the chain and locked his grip down. Clumsy blows rained down on Hood's head as the man swung his arms backwards, but Hood pulled himself tight into a ball and pulled the chain tighter.
All his senses dulled, all thought evaporated. There was only the chain and his grip.
A wild uppercut swung towards Hood, glancing off the side of his head. The near miss sent a shock through his spine bringing him back to reality, but he kept his grip tight woven around the chain
. If that had landed square. . .
He leaned backwards as to avoid any more haymakers.
Focus on the chain.

The muscles in his arms screamed, wanting to give out. His hands shook, and again the huge man's thick fingers plucked at the metal collar hopelessly. His puffy face started to turn blue and quiver wildly. Gutteral gurgles welled out of the Butcher, and with a last quake the huge man's breath gave out and his muscles went slack.

Hood let go and pushed himself against the wall, climbing to stand up. Hyperventilating, he moved as far away as he could from the bloody body of the monster, his chains clinking against the concrete floor. Then he slid down against the wall and back to the floor, shaking from adrenaline and exhaustion, his arms limp and sapped of strength.

What the fuck was that?

Hood closed his quivering hands into fists. He tried to regain his composure, propping his elbows on his knees. He breathed slowly and deliberately. His head and chest throbbed from where he was hit by the monster. Slowly the pain came back as the adrenaline subsided.
But with it, a rush of victory swept over him.
I'm still alive.