The Hunger (Book 2): Consumed (28 page)

Those in front wilted under the 1000 lumen beam, but they were shoved forward by the mass behind them.

“Run, dumbass!”

Cass jammed the second button down with her thumb.

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T
he subway shook from the force of the explosion.  Dust fell from the ceiling and the walls.  The floor quaked.

And then they heard the flood wave coming.

Lance dropped the light, letting it shine on the opening of the tunnel.  He raced for the stairs, pausing only for Cass to get in front of him.

She jumped to her feet and sprang forward, her boots sliding on the mildewed floor of the platform.

Shrieks filled the station as the Vladdies closed in.

Their claws scraped on the slick tiles for purchase as they stumbled and slipped into the benches and pillars.  The garbage can was tossed to the side, clattering onto the rails of the right tunnel.

The sound of the onrushing water built to a thunderous roar.

Cass reached the steps first, taking them three at a time.

Lance bound up after her.  The sunlight coming down the stairwell blinded him for a moment as he climbed.  He pulled on the handrail, taking some of the weight from his exhausted legs.

Something caught his foot.  He tripped, his grip on the railing the only thing keeping him from crashing down the stairs.

His eyes rolled wildly as he looked back.

A Vladdie had his ankle, squeezing and pulling him down.  Its top layer of skin peeled as the sunlight beat down on its head and shoulders.  A dark, leathery tongue lolled in its gaping mouth as it yanked on his ankle again.

Searing pain jolted up his leg.  He cried out and kicked its hand with his other foot.  His forearm strained as he held onto the railing.  If he let go, it would all be over.

His sweaty fingers slid a few inches down the railing.

A dozen more Vladdies appeared at the base of the stairs.  They held deformed hands in front of their thickened, misshapen heads as they began to climb, in spite of the obvious pain they suffered.

Muddy, churning water burst from the tunnel, flooding the station.

Lance’s eyes darted from the Vladdie to the water and back again.

Its muscles flexed as it wrenched his ankle again.  His grip slid further, pulling him closer to the awaiting maw.

Cass jumped over Lance.

Light glinted from the blade of her axe as she brought it down in a wide arc.

It severed the arm of Vladdie at the elbow, sending the beast tumbling backward.  It wailed as it rolled down the stairs.  Blood oozed from the brawny forearm still clinging to Lance’s leg.

He shook it free and clambered to his feet.  Agony shot into his ankle as he put weight onto his foot.

His leg buckled at the knee and he almost fell backward, but managed to grab the railing again.

“I can’t make it up the stairs in time!  Go without me!”

Cass grabbed his free arm and looped it over her shoulders.  “Shut up and climb!”

Water crashed into the steps.

The vampires howled as they were overtaken by the rising wave.

Lance hopped up the stairwell as fast as he could with Cass pulling him along.

The water hit them a second later, enveloping their bodies in an instant, lifting them from their feet.  Silt floated around them as they rocketed up the stairwell, propelled by the force of the flood wave.

Cass’ axe flew from her hand, clattering against the walls.

Lance’s ankle cracked against the ceiling as he rolled in the water, losing all sense of direction.  His hold on Cass slipped and she floated away, disappearing in the dark liquid.

They burst from the mouth of the stairwell, launched into the sunny, warm air.  Cass was ahead of Lance, her arms pinwheeling as she tried to orient herself.  She landed on the sidewalk feet first, only to have them kicked out by the rushing current.  The wave propelled her into the highway as Lance fell to the concrete.

The duffel bag floated by his head, the strap still around his neck, as he was washed down the street.

Adam and Greg ran across 28, staying ahead of most of the water.  They were ankle deep, but the stream had slowed enough by the time it reached them that they could keep their feet under them.

Lance ground to a halt on the far side of the road.  He rolled to his knees, coughing and hacking, wondering how he managed to get half of the Allegheny River into his lungs.

And then he saw Ralph.

The white-haired leader of the Minutemen stood in the middle of the highway.  He was far enough down that he’d been hidden from view by the buildings at the end of the block.  Behind him were four trucks and more than a dozen men.

Camouflage covered them from head to toe.  All carried rifles.

“If it isn’t Lance—the bane of my existence.  The murderer of my family.”

Adam and Greg looked from Ralph to Lance, wrinkles of confusion carved in their brows.

Cass stood from shin-deep water, glaring at Ralph.  She snapped her head, flinging wet hair away from her face.

“And this must be Blonde Bitch.”

Cass flipped him off.  “You bet your old ass—”

A barrage of inhuman shrieks came from the stairs.

Gushing water catapulted the infected from the subway.  They thrashed as the sun went to work on them before they even hit the ground.

Several ran to the buildings, crashing through windows and doors, searching for somewhere to hide.

Most staggered around, bleating and blistering.

Ralph’s men ran up behind him, shouting and pointing at the Vladdies in the street.  They opened fire, filling the air with war.  Ralph pulled a thick, long-barreled pistol from a holster on his hip and joined them.

Three of the Vladdies spun toward the barrage of gunfire and scrambled after the men.  Their faces and shoulders and backs seared under the afternoon light as they moved closer.

Two of them fell as bullets tore through their torsos.  A third accelerated until it was ten feet away when it vaulted on the nearest man.  It tore his throat out as they crashed to the ground.  It ravaged his dying body, ignoring the searing, splitting flesh on its back.

Half the men panicked and ran back to their trucks.

Another Vladdie cut them off, shredding the first two before they even saw it coming.

Four of the men stood their ground, but they had to reload.  They were torn apart when a vampire dove from the roof of a nearby car, landing in the middle of them and lashing out in wild, animalistic blows.

The rest of the Minutemen fled down an alley as a group of Vladdies gave chase.

Ralph remained calm.  He took careful aim at the nearest infected.

It dropped from a single shot to the head.

He put down two more before his pistol clicked empty.

The remaining vampires staggered to the shadows, but the light was still too much.  They slouched against cars and walls, blood seeping from expanding wounds.

Lance stood and started for Ralph, grimacing at the stabbing pain in his ankle.  The water around his feet made his progress slow, deliberate, and loud.  His clothing stuck to his body.

Ralph heard him coming and turned around.  His eyes narrowed as he stuffed his empty pistol back in its holster.  He pulled a knife from his front pocket and flipped a four-inch blade up.

“You’ve taken everything from me.
Everything
!”

Lance continued forward.  “I’m just a normal guy.  You’re the piece of shit who won’t leave me alone.”  The bag swayed on his back.

How this man could blame him for anything was beyond comprehension.  Lance had chosen to hide in a restaurant.  That simple act had flipped his life upside down just as much as the Xavier virus.  Even now, as he fled from the living nightmares that dwelled under the city, he still had to deal with a madman.

Cass shuffled through the water toward Ralph.  She didn’t have her axe, but judging from the way she was lifting her hands up like a boxer, Lance didn’t think she cared.

They waded along, five feet between them, each going for a different side of their opponent.

“You’ve destroyed everything I’ve ever cared for and now I’m going to return the favor.”  He looked at Cass.  “You picked the wrong man to shack up with, whore.”  Ralph moved with a speed unexpected for a man his age, his movement blurring as he threw the knife at Cass.

Cass, caught off guard by his quickness, hesitated.

“No!”  Lance dove at her, hoping his ankle would support his weight as he launched from his injured foot.  He shoved her as hard as he could, clearing her from the knife’s path, even as he fell into it.

Misery lit across his back as the blade plunged into muscle.

Lance fell to his hands and knees in the water.

The curb on the far side of the road connected with Cass’ temple as she flew sideways.  Her head thumped off the concrete, her neck whiplashing.  She looked around at Lance, her gaze confused and aloof.

Blood trickled from a small spot above her hairline, turning her blond hair pink.

Adam ran over and held her head above the water.  He looked to Lance, his eyes wide ovals of shock and fear.  Greg never moved, terror rooting him in place.

Ralph swore and kicked at the water.  He turned and plodded over to the trucks.  The bodies of his followers floated lazily around him.  Shrieks from the dying infected trailed off.

Two of the wounded men leaned against the trucks, clutching at gashes in their arms and legs.  They looked to Ralph for orders.

“One of you give me a gun.”  He held his hand out as he approached them.

The youngest lifted an M16 from the water by his feet.  He popped the clip and searched his pocket for another.

Lance groaned as he reached over his shoulder for the knife.  His fingers brushed the handle and he grasped it, feeling it jiggle slightly.  He closed his eyes and jerked it free, crying out as the pain racked his body.

His head swam as he fought to stay conscious.  The waves of misery abated after a second, muting to an intense throb.  He held the knife, his eyes following a drop of blood as it ran down the blade and trickled to the water.  He looked from it to Ralph, watching as the wounded Minuteman handed over the rifle.

“Adam—you need to run.”

“What?  I can’t leave you guys!”  He peered down at Cass.  “She’s too loopy to run still.”

Cass licked her lips and blinked several times.  “Lance?”

Lance shook his head.  “I’m going to distract him, but I can’t win with a knife.  Get out of here while you still can.  Drag her with you.”

“But—”

“Go!”  Lance’s muscles felt weak.  Warmth ran down his back.  He thought something vital might have been hit by the knife.  “I think I’m bleeding out anyway.”

He got one leg under him and was about to stand up when he saw something floating by Cass’ feet.

The trigger.

Adam put his hands under Cass’ armpits and lifted her out of the water.  He dragged her toward the sidewalk, his face reddening under the strain.

Ralph checked the rifle and turned back to Lance.  He took two steps forward before he stopped at the mangled body of one of his men.  The man raised a shaky arm to his leader.

“Rest easy, my friend.”  Ralph crossed himself and then shot the man in the chest.

Lance used the small distraction to his advantage.  He angled his body to hide what he was about to do.  He pulled the duffel bag from his shoulder with a grunt.  He was losing movement in his left arm.  The zipper was slippery and he lost his grip on it twice before he finally worked it halfway down the length of the bag.

“I’m going to kill her first, Lance.  I want you to watch her die.”  Ralph lifted the rifle and sighted Cass and Adam.

The last brick of explosives floated at the bottom of the bag.  Lance grabbed it and reached back inside, his fingers searching for a detonator.

Adam lowered Cass down on the far side of the highway, letting her float in the water again.  “What’s wrong with you?  You’re going to shoot a defenseless woman?”

“You’re goddamn right I am.”  Ralph grinned over the top of the rifle.  “But I’m going to shoot you first, if that makes it any easier for you.”

“I don’t know what’s going on here, bro!”  Greg held his hands up.  “I just met these people like twenty minutes ago!  Don’t shoot me!”

Lance found the detonator and plunged it into the C4.  He turned to face Ralph and plopped into the water, sitting on his ass.  He had one chance to pull this off.  “Hey, asshole!”

Ralph sneered at Lance.  “Now wait your turn.”

“Catch!”  Lance threw the brick at Ralph.

It tumbled in the air, arcing over the waterlogged road.

Lance grabbed the trigger.

Hoped it was waterproof.

Ralph caught the brick with one hand, rolling it over as he inspected it.  “What’s this?”  His mouth popped open when he saw the detonator.

He cocked his arm back to throw it.

The men behind him saw what it was too.  They each started in different directions.

Lance pressed the button.

Ralph burst in an explosion of fire, blood, and unidentifiable chunks.

His remnants showered the surrounding trucks and water.

A red mist floated in the air.

The men were thrown against the trucks by the concussive force of the blast.  They slumped into the water, motionless.

Drops of Ralph continued to rain down for several seconds, painting the area crimson.

“That was fucking disgusting, bro!”  Greg bent over and vomited.

All Lance could muster was a faltering nod.  That was one of the most horrible things he’d ever seen, but he didn’t have enough energy to give a meaningful reaction.  Throwing the explosives had taken what little strength he had left.

Cass worked to a seated position, holding a hand to her scalp.  “Did I just see Ralph explode?”

Lance nodded.  He leaned onto his elbow, the water coming halfway up his chest.  He tried to think of something pithy to say, but nothing came to mind.

“What’s wrong with you?” Cass stood up, putting her hands on her knees to steady herself.

Adam ran over to Lance, kneeling beside him.  “He took a knife in the back when he pushed you out of the way.  I saw it go in—it was pretty deep.”