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

  He waited to see what would happen next and he wasn’t disappointed. Through the crowd of hunters, a black four-wheel drive nudged its way forward. Taking aim with his M4, he covered the vehicle, thinking he could at least put up a fight.

  The vehicle came to stop twenty yards from him, and from inside the vehicle, a voice called out, “Don’t be stupid.”

  A man sat at the wheel, another in the passenger’s seat, and through the window of the rear door, a gun was pointed directly at him. They had one another covered, but he was outnumbered. Quickly assessing the situation, he decided the hunters were not a problem and he could ignore them, or possibly use them for cover. He needed to get away and tell the others that Pax had been captured, and where he was being held. Of course that assumed Pax had already been caught, but he figured if that were not the case, then he could at least warn him of the impending danger and avert the future he’d seen.

  Deciding offense was his only option, he opened fire at the four-wheel drive and the windshield shattered, as the driver and passenger ducked under the dashboard. Oddly they didn’t return fire and he quickly learned why. The hunters forming a ring around him, acting as a wall of dead flesh, converged on him. Confused, he thought, but I can kill them with a touch. When the hunters drew closer they reached for him, naked and covered in mud, their hands looked more like claws, and he watched their futile attempts to attack him. He quickly understood attack was not their intent, as each deliberately touched him and fell to the ground dead. As one died, another climbed on its body and reached for him. A wall of dead hunters was forming at his feet, and one by one the wall became higher as the next hunter fell heavily against his body. He staggered under its weight, just as another also reached for him, instantly collapsing against him. Their tactic became obvious. The hunters would allow the virus he carried to kill them, and as each died, he would be buried by their bodies. As several more collapsing hunters pushed him to his knees, he thought, I should have run.

  The weight of the bodies of the hunters was slowly pressing him into the ground and he struggled to breath. Unable to move his arms, he found himself on his knees, feeling a terrible pressure against his joints, as another hunter added itself to the weight pressing down on his bent back. With his head down, folded by the weight of the dead hunters, stars floated across his darkening vision and he knew he was dying. The pressure against his ribs was unbearable, and he wasted valuable oxygen trying to throw the bodies from his back. Slowly his vision darkened, until he was no longer aware of anything, but the relentless pressure inside his chest.

  When he regained consciousness, his spine burned and something was hammering the back of his head. Opening his eyes, two men were lumbering ahead of him, each holding one of his feet and he was being dragged along the dirt. With each plodding step, the rocks that littered the mud-splattered road leading to the prison were tearing his back. The hammering against the back of his head was the road itself, as his head was banged into every small crevice and bump. His arms were trailing uselessly above his head and he became aware the backs of his hands hurt. In fact every part of his body hurt, and he tried to work out which pain to deal with first.

  “Stop!” He croaked, but his voice was weak and the men were deaf to his calls.

  Pulling his arms from above his head, he stiffened his neck and raised his head trying to reduce the endless impact against the back of his skull. It helped and he straightened his legs trying to free himself from the hard grip on his ankles.

  “The stupidity is strong in this one,” said a voice, that came from somewhere behind him.

  Twisting, he tried to see who’d spoken, but unable to turn fully, he only caught a glimpse of a man in a black outfit.

  “I can walk,” he croaked, hoping to stop the endless pain ripping across his back.

  “Now, now, no one likes a boaster.”

  “Let him up. I’m bored and this is taking forever.”

  The men stopped their plodding and dropping his feet, turned and grabbed his arms so he was now facing forward, with his feet hanging uselessly beneath him. Struggling, he finally got his feet under him, but he was now held in a vice-like grip between the two men.

  Unable to turn and see his tormentors, he heard one say, “Giddy up!”

  He was no more than twenty yards from the main prison gates and the area looked muddy and barren. He assumed the hunters had sunk back to the earth and hiding under the mud. Since he was almost on his feet, the men lifted their pace and he was quickly through the gates, looking at the prison he’d seen twice before in his visions. A tall, skinny, grey haired man, with a puffy face, and wearing wire-rimmed spectacles, stood watching as they dragged him into the prison.

  Sounding slightly bored, the puffy faced man asked, “Who is he?”

  “Dunno. He turned up on a motorcycle, but he was killing the hunters, so I guess he’s one of their infected ones.”

  “Oh, one of those freaks. Bring him in.”

  He found himself in the corridor with the cells again, only now they looked like his earliest vision, and he knew Pax was probably in the cell he’d seen him being dragged from. As the men pulled him through the corridor, he tried to look into every cell, hoping to catch a glimpse of Pax. He still wasn’t sure Pax was there, but given the number of hunters hiding in the area, there was clearly something happening and he thought it was most likely something to do with him.

  “Put in him in the cell next to the other one.”

  The men stopped, and as hanging between them, he looked into the cell on his left. There was a man sitting on the bed, and another man was lying on the floor, with a woman with platinum blonde hair lying beside him. He vaguely remembered a woman with hair that color, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her. Looking closer, the man sitting on the bed had bright red hands, and it took a moment for him to realize he was the man he’d seen in his vision.

  He was dragged forward again, then roughly shoved through a cell door and let go. Without the men supporting him, and unable to support his own weight he fell to the ground. Being infected and part hunter he had a high threshold for pain, but even he was feeling battered by his ordeal. In the cell was a bed, and using the edge of it, he pulled himself onto the thin mattress and lay still for a moment while he assessed his situation and injuries. His chest still hurt and he gingerly touched his ribs, realizing that more than one was probably broken. Reaching under his shirt to touch his back, he felt deep grooves and a sticky warmth, and he guessed his back was bleeding badly. Holding his hands out in front of him, they were scratched and smeared with blood. His mouth felt dry and seeing a sink he immediately staggered to it, hoping the tap worked. Surprisingly it did and he drank and spat water, trying to clear his mouth of the gritty sensation of mud against his teeth.

  The puffy faced man was standing outside the cell, peering at him through the bars. “Who are you? Did Gears send you?”

  Pax always taught him if he captured to say nothing other than his name. “I’m Mackenzie and I don’t know anyone called Gears.”

  “Bullshit. You killed the hunters by touching them so you’re infected, and only Gears has people like that.”

  The puffy faced man knew about Gears which meant he probably knew about the bases. Remaining silent, neither confirming nor denying, he waited to see what the man would do next. He continued to stare at him for a moment, and then seeming to lose interest he turned and walked away. In a matter of moments, the corridor was empty and he found he was alone in his cell.

  Wanting to make contact with the prisoners in the cell next to him, he walked to the wall they shared. “Hello. Can you hear me?”

  “Hello Mackenzie,” a woman’s voice replied.

  “You know who I am?”

  “Yes, of course I do. You used to live in the same wing of the base as me. Don’t you remember?”

  The storage building was their first base, but it felt like a lifetime ago and he supposed in many ways it was. Digging in his me
mory he found an image of a pretty woman with platinum blonde hair, and he remembered thinking she was stunning, but then she’d disappeared and he hadn’t seen her in a very long time.

  He tried to recall her name, but couldn’t. “I remember seeing you, but I don’t remember your name. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m BD and I died. Major major asshole killed me.”

  “You’re dead? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for Pax. He needs me.”

  “Is that Pax in there with you?”

  “Yes, but he’s not doing too well.”

  Now worried, he asked, “What happened to him?”

  “Ruler messed with his head.”

  Eager to talk to Pax, he called urgently, “Pax. Pax! It’s me. Mac.” When there was no reply he sat down, leaning his back carefully against the wall and said, “Pax, man, you gotta listen to me. I had another vision. Ruler killed Gears, TL and Ip, and then he killed you. You’re all gonna die.”

  There was silence from the other side of the wall. “Pax. Max is pregnant and she’s gone to Wolfie’s base to tell him what I saw in my vision. I’m gonna be a dad, but you have to get up or everyone is gonna to die. You always said, live to fight another day, and you have to live, Pax, or we’re all dead.”

  There was still only silence from the other side of the wall and refusing to give up, he said, “I’ll talk all fucking night. I got nothing else to do. I will nag you off that floor. I had visions. I saw you killed, and I heard Ruler say everyone else was dead. He hung you upside down and cut your throat like you were a pig. And that wasn’t all I saw. I had a vision of the prison from before. That man sitting on the bed next to you was there. He was cutting his wrists and he spoke to me. He said, tell my son I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that means. Who’s his son? I think I’m supposed to tell him that, but I don’t know who he is or why I have to tell him.”

  Hearing no reply, he kept talking, but it was now more to himself than to Pax. “What the hell is going on? Ever since I got myself infected my life has been crazy. I mean, I shot Ip and I don’t think I did the right thing. I don’t know what I was thinking, but then I got together with Max and that’s been amazing. I don’t know what took us so long. She’s incredible. We’ve been living in southern Mississippi and Max is four or five months pregnant. She must have gotten pregnant the first time we were together, but it’s great. I mean, we’ve known one another for ages, and you know, after the whole Lucie thing and…’

  “Shaddup, Mac,” Pax croaked. “You’re givin’ me a headache.”

  Delighted, he pushed his arm outside the bars, waving at the next cell. “Can you see my hand, Pax?”

  He felt a man’s hand grip his. “Pax! Are you okay?”

  “Let go of my hand, Mac, we’re not women.”

  Letting go of his hand, he asked excitedly, “Are you okay?”

  “Nah. I’ve got a headache and a cell full of dead people.”

  “Yeah, that’s weird. Who are they?”

  “The asshole on the bed was my father. I didn’t remember it, but he killed my mother and I’m guessin’ he killed himself in prison. This prison and this cell, I s’pose. Ruler’s got a twisted sense of humor.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “No, it ain’t.”

  “Who’s the woman?”

  “That’s BD. She was my girlfriend and Major major asshole murdered her when we attacked his base. She was spyin’ for us. It’s my fault she died.”

  He heard BD speak. “Don’t be stupid, Pax. It was the Major’s fault. He’s the one who shot me. How can you blame yourself for something you didn’t do and tried to stop? And anyway, I’m fine.”

  He heard Pax speak. “Hey, asshole! No, I don’t forgive you for killin’ my mother. Now fuck off and go haunt someone else. Don’t look to me for redemption. I ain’t here for ya.”

  Suddenly he heard Pax’s voice near him. “Mac, my brothers will be here soon. What’s goin’ on out there?”

  “There’s hunters hiding outside. Thousands of them are buried in the mud.”

  “We need to warn ‘em.”

  “There’s something else, Pax. A new star. It’s golden and I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve tried talking to it, but it doesn’t answer.”

  Pax asked, “BD, can you talk to Ip or any of the Infected?”

  “I can only talk to people who are willing to listen, and none of them do.”

  “Ip might listen. Can you tell her where I am?”

  “I can try again.”

  “Do that and BD, you know I love ya, baby, but you gotta go. You can’t be dead and alive at the same time. Make a choice. Either come back alive like Ip did or go and be dead, but don’t keep hauntin’ me.”

  “Are you dumping me?”

  “Little bit. I’d rather you came back like Ip did, but we can’t keep doin’ this.”

  In a sulky voice, he heard BD reply, “You can be such an asshole, Pax.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: Needle in a haystack (Captain Ted)

  “We haven’t heard from him or his team in a week.”

  Looking worried, Wolfie asked, “What do ya wanna do?”

  “Not sure, but I think we need to do an aerial search first.”

  “Good plan. Whatdaya need from us?”

  “I want to use your base as a staging point for the convoy and the aerial search,” he replied. “If they’ve been captured by fuckin’ Ruler, then I’m guessing they’ll be at the refugee camp and we need to get them the fuck out.”

  “That makes sense, but I wish Gears was here.”

  “You and me both. Can you put together a combat convoy, and we’ll merge the two convoys at your base.”

  “Roger that,” Wolfie replied. “I’ll give you everything I’ve got. It should add up to about three hundred shooters, and about twenty vehicles, plus a couple of birds.”

  “Thanks. Give me a day to sort out the convoy here, and I’ll be at your base in twenty-four hours.”

  “No problem, Ted. Look forward to seein’ ya.”

  Flicking the radio switch to off, he stood up to leave the comms room at the Marine supply base. Hatch and Gerry briefed him yesterday and it was now early morning. Having arrived back at the base late the night before, there was little he could do other than call Nelson and ask him to head to the base with Isaac, then he got some sleep. Not that he slept well. Since the end of the world Pax had been his best friend, and he was deeply worried about his buddy. Being a good ten years older than him, Pax was the best mentor he’d ever had. Not so staid he was boring, but experienced enough to add to his skills. He valued Pax as a friend, a combat buddy, and an experienced trainer, plus he made it fun to learn.

  He hadn’t always been a model Marine. His performance reviews quoted him as being technically competent and a good man in a crisis, but otherwise his service record was blemished with infractions, that included drinking on duty and regularly reporting in late. Then there was the time he was caught smuggling a woman onto the base, and although it added to his reputation for being wild, his superiors took a dim view of the incident and he was almost demoted. His poor reputation was one of the reasons everyone else was on shore leave, while he was on the submarine when the outbreak happened. In his view the real Captain of the boat was an uptight asshole, who’d taken one look at his service record and penalized him before he’d done anything wrong. Mentally shrugging, he suspected he would have eventually done something inappropriate, so perhaps the man hadn’t been entirely wrong. His unjustified decision saved his life and he supposed he should be grateful.

  Never known as a smart guy, he’d always excelled in physical fitness. Football was his life at school, but he was easily bored and studying didn’t appeal to him. His parents were ordinary people living an simple life. They’d paid the mortgage and raised three children. There was nothing exceptional in his background that made his li
fe worth more than anyone else’s. It still surprised him he was one of the lucky ones to survive, and he wasn’t sure if there was any reason why he was when so many others weren’t. It still humbled him to think he could be so lucky. He thought he was a bit of a drifter, prone to boredom, and happiest when he got to do more and think less. In that way he and Pax were like twins.

  Now Pax was missing and he was anxious to start looking for him, but he asked himself, ‘What would Gears do?’ He decided Gears would hit the problem with a hammer. That meant he needed to both look for Pax and be ready to attack the refugee camp. Satisfied it was both smart and aggressive, he went to talk to Cutter who he’d chosen to lead the combat convoy.

  Cutter was already in the meeting room waiting to be briefed. A tall, lean man, with no military experience, he was the kind of guy who was good at anything he put his mind to. Originally, he was able to run the Marine supply base and the Navy base on a daily basis, but as the number of bases and the survivors grew, he found he was spread too thin so he’d taken Cutter on as his second-in-command. Over the past six months he’d trained Cutter to be his man on the ground at the Marine supply base. As he walked into the meeting room, Cutter was drinking coffee and there was an extra cup on the table waiting for him.

  “What’s up, boss? I thought you were staying at the Ranch for another few days.”

  He nodded by way of thanks for the coffee. “I was, but Hatch and Gerry came and got me. They haven’t heard from Pax and his scavenger team in a week, and they think something’s wrong.”