Hungry Independents (Book 2) (3 page)

Molly smiled. “Do you realize how dumb you
are?”

Samuel stuck out his bottom lip and looked on
with droopy eyes. “No. But I hear about it all the time. One day
I’ll find someone who takes me seriously.”

Molly sat next to him on the steps. “What are
you doing up this early?”

“I’m going to kill some grasshoppers if I can
find the right pesticide. Those bugs keep destroying our crops
faster than the Brittanys are able to can them. Besides, I’m up
this time every morning. A lot of us hard working types are early
risers. John and Alex are collecting eggs and slopping hogs by now,
Frank, Sarah and Jessie are tending to the goats, sheep and cattle,
and Dylan is probably out setting trotlines. I bet the Britts are
already in the kitchen cooking breakfast.”

“Why not wait until daylight?”

“Because I like to finish the tough jobs
before the sun pops up. It still gets hotter than hell out in the
fields by noontime. That’s when I go take a nap in the shade.”

“I knew you didn’t work all day. Hunter’s
convinced that Jimmy never took a break. I think it’s what drives
him.”

Samuel sucked on his tooth again. “Well,
Hunter’s right. Jimmy was a workhorse. He never took naps. I’ve got
three extra field hands doing the work that Jimmy used to do.”

Molly leaned over and bumped him shoulder to
shoulder. “You’re kidding?”

“Not about Jimmy.” Samuel tied a blue
bandanna around his head. “See, Hunter and I have a lot in common.
We both had tremendously hard working brothers that accomplished a
lot during their short lives. Greg led us here and Jimmy kept us
fed.”

Molly gazed at Samuel, seeing the hurt and
pain in his eyes that he kept tightly shut off from everyone. His
brother and his best friend were gone. Both of them lived in this
house with him. Jimmy moved in the day Greg died. Now Samuel lived
alone, refusing any new housemates.

He broke eye contact and looked over the
crops to the horizon. “Try living up to that.”

The sound of shifting grass broke their
conversation and Molly and Samuel stood up on the porch. A massive
black dog lumbered out of the field next to the house. The creature
shook its bulk and snorted, like allergies had gotten the better of
it. Then four more giant dogs joined the first. Bright red eyes
gleamed in the darkness, locking on Molly and Samuel. A deep growl
rumbled from their chests and the leader padded forward, lowered
its muzzle, and bared its teeth.

“Get in the house,” Samuel whispered.

Molly trembled. She told her stupid foot to
step back, but the sight of those terrible beasts with their giant
maws kept her feet planted on the porch steps. The leader moved
closer and the other four widened their positions in case someone
chose to run away from the house.

“Molly, get into the freaking house,” Samuel
said it louder this time.

The lead dog barked and snapped at the air,
showing them what it had in mind. Samuel reached over and retrieved
a shovel leaning against the railing. He brought the long handle up
and held the spade high. The metal glinted in the moonlight like a
mystical sword created for putting down such trouble.

The lead dog paused now that an actual threat
had presented itself. The others continued closing the loop on long
skinny legs with their skin stretched tight over protruding ribs.
Their tails hung straight and low without swaying.

Samuel stepped down in front of Molly. The
leader leaned back on its haunches and barked another loud warning.
The others stopped and watched for Samuel’s next move.

“Molly, get in the house. I have your back.
Slam the door shut when I come in behind you. Wait ’til I’m
inside.”

Molly liked the plan. She knew she should do
exactly what Samuel instructed. Her mind was screaming at her, but
her body refused.

“Molly!”

“I can’t, Samuel. I can’t.”

“You have to!”

The lead dog took another step. The other red
eyes watched for what would happen next. Their rumbling chorus
resumed.

Samuel made a quick move off the porch steps
onto the walkway and screamed a challenge. The dog slinked back a
couple of feet. The others watched and waited. Samuel swung the
spade back and forth, slicing through the air. The lead dog stayed
out of range, baring its teeth and growling, saliva spilling from
its mouth. Samuel screamed again and the dog rose to the challenge
with a series of furious barks. The rest began to circle Samuel
like they were separating him from the herd, but he caught on. He
tripped backing up, and whacked his head on the bottom step.

The shovel clattered on the walkway as the
lead dog charged.

Finally, Molly snapped into action. Fear
coursed through her limbs, but she pushed through the barrier when
the lead dog closed over Samuel like a juicy pork chop. Molly
jumped off the porch and kicked the beast in the head with a
sickening thud. She snatched up the shovel and jabbed the spade
into the rows of teeth as the dog’s head swiveled back. The dog
yelped in pain, retreating behind the others in the pack.

Samuel lay motionless on the ground with his
eyes closed.

“Samuel! Samuel, are you all right? You have
to get up!”

No response. The two dogs in the middle
separated and crept forward, wary now that Molly had shown her
backbone. The injured dog slinked off to lick its wound and await
the outcome.

Molly gripped the shovel’s worn handle with
slippery palms. Afraid to dry them on her pants, she hoped she
could hang on until Samuel came around. She nudged him with a toe.
He moaned once, but nothing more.

The dog on her right sprang forward and she
stepped over Samuel to meet its charge. The beast stopped and
crouched again. On her left, the other canine came in low at her
legs. Molly stabbed the shovel blade down and caught it in the
neck. The cutting edge bit with force and another whining shriek
echoed in the darkness. The animal rolled over and Molly struck its
side, penetrating its body.

She lifted and twirled back as the dog on her
right attempted to sneak up. In the motion of her spin, the shovel
hit the post that supported the porch overhang, sending vibrations
through her hands and arms. Exposed without the shovel between
them, Molly stumbled when the dog bowled into her side and knocked
her against the railing. She slipped her hands up the handle and
drove downward into the animal’s back as its menacing teeth sought
her legs. Molly hammered the canine repeatedly with the blunt
handle, screaming as fear fueled her strikes. The attempts to bite
her ceased and Molly kicked the dog’s side, spun the shovel around,
and buried the spade in its back. The animal whimpered, fell and
bled.

With Molly out of position to protect Samuel,
the last two dogs pounced on him. One bit into his leg while the
other bared its teeth close to Samuel’s throat and watched Molly
with red, intelligent eyes.

Molly didn’t pause to think. Using the shovel
as a lance, she charged the animal biting Samuel, spearing its side
and taking the beast all the way to the ground. The other one
slammed into her and this time Molly was knocked off her feet into
a flowerbed.

She lost her grip on the shovel from the hard
landing. The dog followed, its heavy body pinning her, foul hot
breath on the back of her neck. Trapped, she clawed at the dirt and
flowers in panic. She waited for the sharp pain that would carry
her death close behind.

A tremendous roar sounded and the weight
lifted off her with a giant clash and a surprised yip. Molly pushed
up and regained her feet, searching for the shovel’s protection.
She found it in the flowers and spun to help her defender.

Her brother Mark, in nothing more than his
striped boxer shorts, wielding an aluminum bat, clubbed the black
beast until nothing moved. Mark breathed like a thing possessed and
searched for more dogs to strike. Four furry bodies lay sprawled in
the moonlight.

“There were five,” Molly said, trying to
breathe and contain the adrenaline spike that carried her, “…five
of them.”

Mark nodded and stalked through the front
yard, searching for the fifth. The lead dog that first tasted the
blade of Molly’s shovel.

More boys, similarly clothed as her brother,
arrived with bats of aluminum and wood, like they were about to
have late night batting practice.

“There’s at least one more dog out here,”
Mark relayed to the others. “Get in teams of three and find it.
Molly, do you know which way it went?”

Molly dropped to the soft, wet ground,
crushed under the weight of fear and exhaustion. She kept her grip
tight on the shovel. “They came out of the field. The missing one
is wounded.”

“Half of you take the field,” Mark said. “The
rest, search around every house. Luis, check on Samuel.”

Boys left in all directions. The ones who
took to the field crashed into the high grass that bordered the
crops with little worry for the monsters lurking there. Molly found
that very brave and very reckless, but was thankful all the same
for their courage.

One of the dogs in the yard squirmed and
whined, and Molly cried out. Mark walked over and smashed his bat
into the animal’s head with a disgusting, mushy ‘thunk.’ The beast
laid still, its red eyes dimmed. Molly’s stomach flip-flopped. She
retched on the flowers, wiped her mouth, and used the shovel to
push away from the smell.

“I need light and a pair of scissors,” Luis
said.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked Molly.

“I’m fine. Get what he needs.”

Mark jumped onto the porch and ran into the
house. The screen door slammed shut behind him.

Samuel breathed in shallow puffs, his face
pale in the moonlight, his jeans torn and dark with blood. Luis
shook Samuel’s shoulder but the injured boy did not respond.

Luis bent over for a closer inspection. He
touched the wounded area and blood gushed, soaking the jeans more
and pooling on the broken concrete walkway.

“He took it in the femoral artery. There’s no
time.” Luis patted his naked chest and the waistband of his
underwear. He looked up at Molly. “I need your shirt.”

Molly removed her shirt and handed it over.
She covered her breasts with one arm, holding the shovel handle in
the crook of the other as Luis set to work applying pressure to
Samuel’s wound. Blood, more than Molly had ever seen, flowed
everywhere.

A deep growl sounded. The lead dog broke away
from the shadows at the side of the house, all salivating jaws and
terrible teeth gnashing.

Molly swung the blade of her shovel up from
the grass and screamed in defiance at the hungry, desperate beast.
The red eyes faltered. Molly leapt forward and cleaved the shovel
blade down into the back of the beast and it crumpled to its belly.
She raised the shovel again, readjusted her hold, and stabbed it
through.

Blood gurgled from the dog’s mouth.

Mark tore through the screen door, bat held
high, and charged to his sister’s rescue. He came to a halt when
there was nothing left for him to do.

Molly smiled. “I got him.”

Mark wrapped her in his arms and hugged her
fiercely. “You sure did, sis. You got him good.”

They hugged for about six seconds and then
separated when realization struck that Molly and Mark were both
topless.

Mark blushed and Molly smiled at his
embarrassment. “Awkward,” she said.

Mark scratched the back of his head and
averted his eyes. “Um, yeah.”

“Oh for crying out loud. We used to take
baths together!”

“We were four! Things have changed.”

Luis had lit a candle and cut a seam right up
the leg of Samuel’s jeans, exposing the terrible gash where blood
flowed freely, but something else felt horribly wrong. Tears flowed
from Luis’s eyes as freely as the blood, and then Molly knew.

Luis looked up and said, “He never really had
a chance.”

Molly knelt, joining Luis’s sorrow. A breeze
wrapped around them, extinguishing the candlelight.

“What are you sillies doing?” A small hand
rested on Molly’s bare shoulder. Catherine stuck her head between
theirs and looked gravely at Samuel. “Haven’t you learned by now
there’s always a chance when I’m with you?”

All the noise woke him up. Scout quickly
dressed and tied on his Converse All-Stars.

“Where are you going?” Raven asked, rolling
over in the sheets. Her eyes remained closed in their dark
apartment.

“Someone’s outside yelling.”

“What are they yelling?”

“I have no idea. It’s gotten further away. I
better go check it out.”

Raven didn’t respond. Her breathing turned
heavy as she settled back to sleep.

Scout stepped outside and down to the street.
Moonlight spread through the sky like a giant white nimbus, making
it easy to see the recent rain on the damp bricks of Main Street.
Scout jogged toward the distant sounds that led him toward the edge
of town. A flurry of grasshoppers scattered at his approach. He
wondered why no one thought to wake him up to help.

A yellow light penetrated the darkness like
the single headlight on his motorbike. The light was tinged with a
soft pinkness that Scout had never seen in one of Catherine’s
previous healings. He sped up, knowing that something serious must
have happened if the little girl was working a miracle.

Scout raced the last hundred yards towards
Samuel’s house and skidded to a stop as Catherine’s light shot from
her eyes into the heavens. She slumped to the ground, and so did
Molly, who appeared to have lent Catherine her strength for the
healing.

The first thing he noticed was Molly’s
boobs.

“Close your mouth, Scout. That’s my
sister.”