Gift from God: Hunter Wars Book Four (The Hunter Wars 4) Read online

  With a jolt, he realized it was Pax, but without his usual energy he looked older and almost unrecognizable. He didn’t seem to be aware of what was happening to him. Ruler pulled a knife slowly across his throat and Pax’s blood ran down his face, flooding to the ground beneath his hanging head. He stepped back from the scene hoping the vision would end.

  Ruler stood up and spun to face him, looking him directly in the eye. “You’re next!”

  He didn’t understand how Ruler could see him. This was a vision of the future, an event that had yet to happen, but Ruler could see him and was talking to him. Shocked, but angry and with his teeth bared, he spat back, “Fuck you, asshole! I will fuck you up!”

  With his face twisted in utter rage, Ruler lunged at him and thrust the blade into his abdomen. As the knife cut into his gut, the scene dissolved and he was once again standing by the pond next to their RV. Max was on her feet backing away from him, looking frightened.

  “What did you say?”

  He shook his head trying to clear the vision of Ruler.

  “I wasn’t here. I saw Ruler kill Pax. He cut his throat like he was a pig. He said Gears, TL and Ip were already dead.” Breathing deeply, he walked over to Max and wrapped his arms around her. “Ruler saw me and spoke to me. He tried to kill me. How’s that possible? The visions are only a potential future. How could he see me?”

  “Because he’s the Devil, Mac. Rules don’t apply to him.”

  Together they sat down at the now cold campfire beside their RV. Max held his hand and said, “We owe Pax, Gears, TL and Ip everything. We can’t let Pax die. He’s always protected us.”

  Still shocked by what he’d seen, he sat hunched over and nodded. “I don’t know where he is, but it was a prison.”

  “Go back into the vision. Look around and see if you can work out which prison it is.”

  “I don’t know how to do that. You know I don’t control the visions of the future. They just come to me, but the prison was cold, so I figure it’s got to be north not south.”

  “I don’t want Pax to die. You have to try. You have to look for him.”

  “What if he’s not at the prison, Max? It’s a vision of the future. Maybe it hasn’t happened yet.”

  “Then we should split up. You go to the prison and I’ll head to the bases. If he’s at the prison then you can help him. If he’s not, then I can warn him that Ruler has a plan.”

  He didn’t want Max travelling on her own to the bases, but he agreed he needed to look for Pax. If he was being held prisoner somewhere then he needed to find him. Going to look for Pax was the best thing he could do for him, but the worst thing he could do for Max. He felt torn between his two loyalties and he didn’t like it.

  “I don’t want you travelling on your own.”

  “I’ll be fine. You can travel with me as far as Jackson. I’ll head to Wolfie’s base and you go north and find that prison.”

  “But I don’t know where it is.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We should head to Wolfie’s base, and the next time the vision happens, look for the name of the prison.”

  It didn’t take them long to pack the RV. Attached to the compact home was a trailer with his motorcycle. They used the motorcycle to travel around and collect anything they needed, and now he’d use it to and find Pax. Looking around the forest, the stream and their little campfire, he felt sorry to leave, but agreed with Max. They owed Pax and his brothers their lives and the life they were now getting to live. He had no more visions while they drove towards Wolfie’s base and they arrived at Jackson, where he prepared to leave Max to drive the final leg without him.

  Standing outside the RV, he asked yet again, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  She put her hands around the back of his neck, and after kissing him deeply, she said, “You’ve forgotten I’m a combat shooter. Pax trained us both well.”

  He held her tightly, not wanting to let her go. She was right. They’d worked with Pax, Gears, TL and Ip more than most, and remembering those days, he wondered how Benny was doing. Between him, Max and Benny, they were their young leaders team. They were supposed to become second in command to the three brothers, but it hadn’t worked out that way. He’d asked to become one of the Infected and their little team had disintegrated. With him gone, Max and Benny slowly drifted apart, and now she was with him, he assumed Benny was on his own.

  “You should find out how Benny’s doing.”

  “We really shouldn’t have left without talking to him.”

  “No, it wasn’t fair. Maybe it’s for the best you go back. Maybe we both need to.”

  Max nodded. “I think we needed this time to know that. And besides, with the baby coming, it’ll be safer on the ship.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be happier knowing you and the baby are nowhere Ruler can touch you. Since he tried to kill me in that vision, I’m worried he knows who I am and he might target us.”

  “That’s occurred to me too.”

  With a final long embrace, holding her face in his hands and looking down at her, he said, “Stay safe, my love, and take care of our little one.”

  She hugged him and kissed him deeply again. “You too. Our little girl needs her daddy.”

  “You don’t know it’s a girl. What are you gonna do if it’s a boy? You can’t put it back, you know.”

  Looking as if she might cry, she pulled away from him abruptly. “Go. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  As he turned to walk to his motorcycle, she called, “Don’t die, Mac! Don’t make me kick your ass!”

  With a final look over his shoulder, he said, “You own my ass and you can kick it any time you like.”

  Watching the RV as it disappeared down the road, he sat down on a brick wall and waited. He hoped, alone and not distracted, maybe his mind would take control and he would see the prison again. In his mind, he called for Pax, picturing his face and remembering his voice. It didn’t help and sighing, he pulled on his helmet and got on his motorcycle. He rode for an hour heading north with no idea how far he travelled, or awareness of the road around him. Riding on autopilot, the motorcycle droned on, mile after mile, and his mind drifted into a vision. He found himself by the prison again, only this time he stood outside on the road looking at the imposing wall. On top of the wall were harsh looking metal spikes, and they travelled around the full length. Beyond the spikes were several towers, clearly designed to observe anything happening behind the prison walls. Now deeply inside his vision, he walked along the outside of the wall, hoping to see a sign or a landmark that would tell him the location.

  The prison was surrounded by green fields, and around it was empty farmland stretching for miles. It was a large prison. Along the wall he found several small doors and eventually a heavy gate. The walls of the prison were thick and high, creating an ugly and imposing eyesore on an otherwise beautiful landscape. It didn’t look like a modern building, and he guessed it might have been built in the fifties, or even sixties. Unlike today, back then nobody wanted prisons in their county next door to their homes, and he was unsurprised it was set so remotely. Since the twenty first century a prison provided jobs, and often gave a much needed boost to a sagging economy. From what he was told, counties had fought hard to win the privilege of having a prison in their region, and they usually became the heart of a busy area.

  Unable to work out the location of the prison from the outside, he tried to open the gate, but his hand went straight through it. Huh, he thought, I didn’t know that would happen. In all his visions, he’d never tried to interact with the environment, and this was the first time he realized he couldn’t. Stepping into the gate, he walked through it as if it wasn’t there. On the other side of the wall, the prison was a large, heavy looking brick building with few windows. Attached to one side of the prison were some fenced areas that looked like small basketball courts. Each court had a door leading into the main building, and he recognized this was where he’d seen Pax murdered.


  Walking through the metal fence of the court, he tried to locate which one Pax was killed in, but all the courts were empty. Turning, he walked into the prison and found himself standing in the corridor he’d seen Pax being dragged through. The cells in front of him were full and men were asleep in their beds. In his previous vision the cells were empty. Looking at the newness of the prison, he realized he’d returned to the prison in another time period, and it had to be some time in the past and not the future. He didn’t know he could see back in time as well as forward, and he wondered why he would be seeing the past and how it might be relevant to the future.

  He walked down the long corridor of cells. When he reached the one that he’d seen Pax dragged from, there was a man sitting on the bed. He was manically doing something in his lap, and walking through the bars of the cell, he could see what the man was doing. The man didn’t look up, but continued to saw feverishly at his left wrist with a sharpened piece of metal. Blood was flowing down his hand, dripping to the floor, and forming a growing puddle at his feet. Unable to interfere, he could do nothing, but watch while the man continued to take his own life.

  Suddenly, the man looked up at him, and catching his eye, he said hastily, “Tell my son I’m sorry.”

  Stepping back in surprise, he asked, “Can you see me?”

  The man didn’t reply, but looked down at his wrist, and continued to saw frantically. His blood was pouring from the fatal wounds he was inflicting on himself.

  Clearly satisfied the job was done, the man looked up into his eyes again and pleaded, “Please. Please tell him I’m sorry. May God forgive me?”

  The vision disintegrated and he found himself again riding along the road. With part of his mind distracted, he assumed another part of his mind controlled the motorcycle and kept him safe. Ahead of him was an intersection, and before he could worry about which road to take, he found himself turning left. Deciding his mind knew better than he did, he followed his instincts, knowing they would lead him to Pax. It seemed he had a message to deliver.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The truth be told (Gears)

  Windows shattered as bullets tore through the glass, and lying in the back of the long abandoned pickup truck, he peered over the edge to see what was going on. In front of him was a dark van and six men dressed in leather jackets, jeans and heavy combat boots, firing into the back of the townhouse. Nearby he there was more gunfire, and assumed there were more shooters at the front of the house. Nestled together and sharing two walls, the townhouses only offered two exits through the front or the back. By shooting at the front and rear of the townhouse, the enemy shooters had trapped his people.

  Dawn was just breaking and he’d spent the night outside, where Ip held guard with the help of half a dozen hunters. Glancing around, he couldn’t see her or her hunters and hoped she was at the front of the townhouse. Remembering she could hear him, he thought, where are you, honey?

  Ip speaks: I am here. The path is not clear. Tell me now what you need. If to kill is the deed.

  Whatdaya see?

  Ip speaks: There are many men, they aim to kill. It is their want to have their fill.

  Worried she might not have enough hunters to kill the men at the front of the townhouse, he asked, how many shooters are there?

  Ip speaks: I do not count as you do, but it is more than a few. Their minds are dark, their will is too. It is their plan to kill more than a few.

  That was enough for him and he thought, send the hunters in and I’ll deal with the assholes on this side. Hesitating and worried she might put herself at risk, he thought, but your blade is no match for a gun, so stay well hidden.

  Ip speaks: I must see to control the foolish ones. I cannot hide and have it done.

  Then wait, honey, he thought, if they try to get into the house, then send the hunters after ‘em.

  He could hear his people returning fire and now he was doubly worried. They might shoot Ip or him. Without his earpiece he couldn’t speak to anyone in the house, and he cursed himself for not bringing it with him. Thinking quickly, he decided he needed to deal with the shooters on his side of the house. If he got his people out of the house they could deal with the shooters in the front of the house. Lining up the target closest to him, he figured he could probably get at least three shots off before he’d be targeted. None of them were wearing tactical vests and he opted for easy body shots. There were six men in front of him facing the house, and he fired a shot into the three easiest targets, before clambering and scrambling over the edge of the pickup. Crouching low, he threw himself through the bushes and crashed behind a small brick building that contained the trashcans for the houses.

  Tucked behind the wall of the brick building, they return fire and the earth spit as bullets thudded into the ground near him. His own shooters took advantage of his distraction, and they unleashed gunfire into the parking lot. Mentally thanking his shooters for their swift and decisive response, he ran from behind the small building, and jumped a low brick wall forming a barrier between the parking lot and the road that travelled alongside it. Lying flat, and well below the low wall, he crawled on his belly towards the next road that would lead him around to the front of the townhouse. Reaching the end of the wall, he quickly peeked over, only to attract more gunfire from the shooters. Ducking down quickly, he waited hoping his own shooters would help him by distracting the men. As if reading his mind, within seconds his own shooters opened fire again, and shuffling forward he peered around the corner of the wall. Seeing it was clear, he quickly rolled around the corner and checked the road ahead of him.

  About a hundred yards away, Ip was hiding behind the same long building and she waved at him. Grinning to himself, he thought, stay there, honey, I’ll come to you.

  Ip speaks: You like to fight. I like to kill. Do not let me miss my fill.

  Maybe so, he thought, but I’ve never seen you kill the living.

  Ip speaks: Death is my friend and not my foe. I will kill all, as you know.

  Well I do now honey, he thought, you didn’t used to be so bloodthirsty. Reaching her position, he crouched with her behind the wall of the building. The gunfire was equally as aggressive at the front of the house, and he was glad TL had taken more ammo from the trucks the previous day.

  “Where are your hunters, honey?” He asked quietly. She didn’t reply, but pointing to another small building, a hunter moved into sight. Clearly, she was protecting them by having them hide behind the small building.

  “Send ‘em in. I’ll cover you while you control ‘em. Kill the shooters.”

  She didn’t reply, but three of the hunters she controlled streaked out from behind the small building, snarling and growling. The shooters at the front of the townhouse immediately turned towards the attacking hunters and opened fire. With their firepower two of the hunters were cut down, but one made it to their position and hurled itself at the closest shooter. While the shooters tried to kill it, the remaining three hunters ran from behind the small building, headed towards the distracted shooters.

  Genuinely impressed, he said, “Nice tactic, honey.”

  The attacking hunters ripped into the shooters, tearing at their throats with their teeth and infecting them instantly. Distracted by the scene in front of him and ensuring no shooter targeted Ip, he didn’t see the shooter coming from behind him. A bullet thudded against the back of his body armor and the impact pushed him forward, exposing him to the shooters now under full attack from the hunters. Rolling with the impact, he spun clumsily on his back and returned fire at the shooter.

  Worried Ip could be caught in their crossfire, he shouted, “Get down! Now!”

  Firing rapidly, the shooter was wearing no body armor and he collapsed to the ground. Returning to watch the fight between the hunters and shooters in front of the townhouse, it was already over. The shooters were either dead, or newly born as hunters and under the control of Ip. Without speaking he thought, honey, send their own people to the shooters at the back of
the house.

  She said nothing, but the newly born hunters jogged towards them. Getting on his feet, he jogged with Ip behind the hunters to the back of the townhouse. He gave her cover while she controlled the hunters to attack their enemy. The shooters mistook the newly born hunters as their own men. He listened while they screamed in shock, only to have their howling cut short. The fight, if it could be called that, was over almost before it began. By the end of their short engagement, there was one downed hunter and five more newly born ones.

  Seeing the battle was finished, he looked up at his own shooters who were still at the window and called, “All clear.”

  The back door of the house opened and TL walked out. Surveying the hunters now standing idle, he said, “Nice tactics.”

  Standing up he could feel a tugging in his back where the bullet hit his tactical vest, and thinking he should check for damage, he replied, “Yeah, Ip’s gettin’ better at this.”

  The three British men, Philip, Roger and Peter, walked over to them and Peter said, “If you can deal with Kray’s men like that, then we’ll help you in any way we can.”

  Clearly surprised, TL asked, “They were Kray’s guys?”

  If they were Kray’s guys, then he was unimpressed and snorting in disgust, he said, “Bunch of goddamn amateurs.”

  “To you maybe. To the rest of us they’re better armed and more willing to kill than we are.”

  “How do they normally travel? Are there likely to be more of ‘em?”

  “We avoid them, so we don’t really know what they do.”

  Turning to TL, he said, “We should bug out. I don’t want any more engagements here than necessary.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you, Gears. Going soft in your old age?”

  “Shaddup, TL. I jus’ don’t wanna waste energy and ammo fightin’ now when we can fight conclusively later. When we come back we’ll hold ‘em down by the throat.”