Hungry Independents (Book 2) (22 page)

Hunter wished sleep was possible, but
wouldn’t entertain the thought a moment more until he reached home
and found Molly safe. His body was stiff from 24 hours of action
and little rest. He rotated his arm, trying to relieve his aching
shoulder.

“So this is his plan? Kill the cattle and
what?”

“Look at the ground, Michael. Now imagine
what those bugs will do to whatever crops you have back at your
town. This is what Famine does, and he’s doing it right at the end
of the growing season. Nothing grows in the snow.”

“How do we stop him?”

“That’s what we have to figure out.”

Hunter walked toward one of the cattle. By
midday tomorrow the meat would be buzzing with flies and ruined
underneath the blazing sun. Hunter searched the darkness, lit only
by the Winnebago headlights, for signs of surviving cattle.
Motionless mounds lay everywhere.

A dark shadow rose from behind one of the
cattle, too small to be anything other than a calf, only calves
didn’t move like this shadow. Three other shadows rose from behind
three different carcasses, and that’s when Hunter noticed the
shining red eyes. Whatever the menacing shapes were weaved towards
them around the mutilated cattle.

“Barbie?”

“Find something to defend yourself with,
quickly.”

Hunter had no idea what kind of weapon he was
going to find out here on the stripped Nebraskan plain. He scanned
the barren ground and saw a couple sticks lying around in the dirt.
“What are they?”

Barbie’s hands crackled with lightning.
“Hellhounds.”

“Great! I don’t suppose they like to play
fetch.”

The dogs emitted a low growl from deep in
their chests. Probably meant to put fear in a person. It did a
super-efficient job, along with the teeth and red eyes.

Barbie looked scary enough with blue
electrical sparks dripping from her tightening fists. Hunter turned
away so he didn’t blind his night vision in his one good eye. He
dug out his pocketknife and wrapped his coat around his left arm
for padding and protection. He never needed a gun out in the Big
Bad, but the danger level had elevated in the past 24 hours. He’d
have to bring up the subject at the next town council meeting—if he
made it back home.

“Here they come,” Barbie said.

Hunter turned back to see. There were more
than just the original four he’d counted. The Winnebago was too far
to make a run for it and play hit the hellhound.

“Get on the bike,” Hunter said.

“They’re all around us.”

Hunter swung his head, careful not to look at
the bright light around Barbie’s hands. Twenty big, black dogs,
forty pinpoints of red, converged on them from all sides. The math
was too high to add up all the sharp teeth. Two dogs closed within
ten feet and crouched low.

“Then what’s the plan?”

“Stay alive,” Barbie said, and shot an arch
of lightning from her outstretched hands, cooking the nearest
dog.

“Okay, do that nineteen more times and
we’re—”

The other dog darted straight for Hunter, who
raised his protected arm and rolled with the impact. He swung his
knife into the animal’s flank and landed on top, stabbing until the
beast lay motionless.

The next attacker came fast, charging in low
with its teeth snapping and spit flying. Hunter dodged and feinted
with the knife. The dog bolted into a gap and nipped Hunter’s hand
through the coat. He sunk his knife in the hellhound’s neck,
twisted and pulled out. The beast rolled over and bled.

His chest heaving with adrenaline, Hunter
swerved and another two hellhounds were on him. He stabbed one
while the other bit into his ankle, yanking to drag him down.
Hunter grabbed a fistful of coarse fur on the one beast he was
stabbing and brought his knife down over the hellhound’s back. The
other hellhound bit deep and Hunter screamed, agony firing through
nerve and tendon. A lightning bolt fried the stupid thing.

He hobbled on his injured leg as his newfound
healing process asserted itself. Barbie ran over to his side. “How
many have we gotten so far?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She looked around.

“Are you giving up?”

“No, it doesn’t matter because there’s an
infinite supply of these hellhounds.”

“Infinite?”

“Michael, I need you. Now is the time. What
are you waiting for?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Michael, please!”

“Look, I told you. I have a girlfriend. Watch
out!”

Barbie whirled around to the approach of
gnashing teeth. She zapped the dog to the ground and wobbled from
the effort. “I can’t do this much longer. You know this,
Michael.”

Hunter couldn’t respond. Three dogs took
turns moving in and out of range, trying to break through his
guard. He slashed back and forth, knowing sooner or later he’d be
overwhelmed. One of the hellhounds stumbled and Hunter knifed it.
The dog reared, ripping the weapon’s handle out of Hunter’s sweaty
palm.

Everything slowed—Hunter was dead without the
knife. The other two dogs attacked with a fury that scared him to
his core. He found a feral place buried inside and fought back,
roaring with rage. Punching and kicking, he attacked the
hellhounds, never surrendering his flesh to more bites. The beasts
peeled away and regrouped. More dogs were filling in the ranks.

Barbie yelled something about the Winnebago.
Hunter sought out the RV in the darkness with his good eye.
Hellhounds swarmed the vehicle. He imagined the terror of the kids
from Cozad—like they needed more. Where were the good guys in all
this? Did Heaven really believe they could overcome everything Hell
was throwing at them with two little girls? Catherine and Barbie
had some pretty amazing talents, but they had limits. Barbie’s
electricity flickered, like her generator was about to run out of
gas.

As if she could read his thoughts, Barbie
looked up, bent over from exhaustion. The sweat on her face
glistened under the moonlight. Her eyes were twin pools of pleading
desire. “Michael, you must help or we die!”

“I am helping! What the hell are you talking
about?”

Barbie shook her head and addressed the sky.
“Lord, show me what must I do?”

And then she smiled in what looked like grim
determination. Hunter didn’t like it. Barbie walked over and
grabbed Hunter’s head and kissed him hard on the lips. He struggled
to break free of her clear insanity.

Hellhounds were circling them and she wanted
to make out.

He pushed her off, but before he could scold
her, his shoulder erupted with a fresh pain unlike anything he had
ever experienced, including the time he was kicked in the mouth as
he laid on the cement floor of the stinking chicken shack. This
pain was a thousand times more horrible. It was a throbbing ache
that built wave upon wave, spreading from his shoulder into his
upper back.

Hunter fell to his knees, reaching back to
find what was wrong. That’s when he noticed that he was glowing.
His whole body shined like the Christmas tree when the Brittanys
went overboard with lights. The hellhounds retreated a safe
distance, frightened of the brilliance for some reason.

Barbie stood nearby wearing a satisfied grin.
She seemed eager and expectant and totally unconcerned about his
suffering.

The bright light flooded over the dead
cattle, all the way to the Winnebago, where the dogs scattered like
cockroaches, scurrying for the darkness. They stalked the edges of
the light, noticeable only by their glowing red eyes. The
hellhounds howled from their position. The sound traveled around
the open prairie with a promise that when the light faded the hunt
would renew.

Unlike the healing light of Catherine, this
light served absolutely no purpose, or at least it wasn’t making
the pain cease. Hunter screamed, hunched over with his forehead
pressed to the ground, and his fingernails clawing the earth.

“What the fuck is happening to me?”

“Watch your language, Hunter!”

“Fuck you!” he yelled, and although it didn’t
ease the pain, telling Barbie off felt really good. The flesh on
his back ripped open and he feared a hellhound had attacked.

Hunter pushed up to his knees. There was no
dog, only the excruciating pain that escalated higher than he could
mentally handle. He shouted and cursed in a rambling fit. Then
Barbie fell on the ground before him and wrapped her arms around
his waist.

Hunter struggled. “What did you do to
me?”

“This was meant to happen since the day you
died. You are being reborn.”

Hunter wanted to throw her off. Instead, he
gripped her tightly. She squeezed him back and buried her face in
his chest. Then the pain tore him in half and he hit the ground
face first. Barbie reached for his hand and kissed it, but Hunter
no longer cared. He closed his eye and allowed unconsciousness to
swallow him whole.

All the bugs flew off into the setting sun at
the creepy dude’s arrival. He looked like a stick figure with his
jeans stopping at his calves and his shirt hanging just above his
belly button. If the guy started trouble, Scout would have to take
him out.

“What’s he doing?” Molly asked.

“He’s just walking down the middle of the
street.” Scout turned back.

Molly rocked little James in her arms and
Ginger slept on the floor beneath a bed sheet. Scout couldn’t shake
the image of Ginger’s skin stripped from her body. He also couldn’t
explain how Molly was able to heal her. A lot of stuff was
happening and Scout was slowly catching up. He looked back to the
street again right as Billy came around the corner and slid to his
butt in front of the creepy dude.

Scout stepped through the busted window
frame. Billy might have been bad mouthing him all over town for who
knew how long, but that didn’t mean Scout was going to let
something bad happen to the kid. This new guy oozed badness like an
infected wound.

He moved into the street as Catherine and
Mark ran up behind Billy. Scout was too far away to hear the
exchange, but whatever was being said, Catherine appeared to have a
lot on her mind. She helped Billy to his feet and Mark stood
protectively with his aluminum bat ready to tee off on the creepy
dude’s skull.

Scout hurried, but was too late.

The tall kid moved so fast he shimmered, and
he sliced open Mark’s throat. A spray of blood pumped out
everywhere. Mark fell to his knees and stared into the distance
like something better was over that way.

Billy screamed, “You son of a bitch, I’ll
kill you!” He charged underneath the first swipe and wrapped his
arms around the creepy dude’s knees. Billy squeezed and lifted. The
tall kid crashed over like a skinny tree and Billy scrambled on
top, swinging his little fists with no regard for his own life.

Catherine stripped off her shirt and pressed
it against Mark’s throat. Mark slid backwards with Catherine
guiding him down. The unused bat rolled over the cobbles.

Scout ran towards the bat. Two forms of light
popped out of the shattered window of Brittany’s In the falling
dusk, the glow appeared to be giant lightning bugs that didn’t
blink. Scout’s eyes adjusted.

Samuel and Dylan streaked past to help Billy
in the scuffle. The creepy dude shoved Billy off and regained his
feet before the lights arrived. Billy stumbled headfirst into
Catherine, knocking her away from Mark.

Scout sped up.

Dylan came in low as Samuel flew into the
startled dude’s chest. They hit the ground in a big pile of light
and dark. Punches were exchanged on both sides. Samuel concentrated
on the creepy dude’s face, while Dylan was kicked off and flew
backwards. The guy rolled over on top of Samuel, raking down with
his nails. Sparks flickered from the light, leaving Samuel
protected.

Dylan jumped to his feet and shot into the
tall kid like a laser beam, knocking him off Samuel, and they
tumbled. When the motion stopped, everybody was separated.

Scout dropped beside Mark and reapplied
pressure on his torn throat. Mark gripped Scout’s wrist with panic
reaching his eyes. His mouth gaped open like a fish out of water.
Catherine lay unconscious as Billy groaned and pushed himself off
of her.

Back on the street, the fight had resumed
after a brief pause. Scout couldn’t watch that now. He had to find
help for Mark. Catherine wasn’t able to help anyone at the
moment.

“How is he?”

Scout looked up, startled to find Billy
addressing him. “He’s bleeding badly.”

Billy looked back to the fight and then
gently rolled Catherine over. “She’s hit her head twice today. I
hope she’s okay.”

“What happed the first time?” Scout asked,
finding the change in Billy curious.

“Billy threw her into a wall,” Billy
said.

“Uh, you mean you… right?”

Billy frowned, brushed a stray strand away
from Catherine’s eyes, and nodded. “Yeah I guess I do mean me.” He
looked back at the fight briefly. “Where’s Luis?”

Mark’s grip had lessened. The shirt
underneath Scout’s hand was drenched. “He was in Brittany’s when
the bug cloud hit.”

Billy jumped to his feet, eyes wide with
fear. “He left Ginger alone!”

“He was getting them dinner. Molly’s with
Ginger and the baby now. They’re all safe.”

“Molly! She can heal Mark!” Billy took off
running. He poked his head into the window at Brittany’s. A second
later Luis stepped out the door and followed Billy to the
clinic.

“Wait!” Scout yelled. “We need Luis over
here!”

Luis turned and started for Scout, but Billy
grabbed the young doctor’s arm and dragged him to the clinic. Scout
didn’t want to believe it.