Gift from God: Hunter Wars Book Four (The Hunter Wars 4) Page 15

  Taking another sip of his coffee, Cutter said, “Pax can be a bit unreliable that way. It might not mean anything.”

  “That’s true, but Pax knows we’d be worrying, so I don’t think even he’d leave it this fuckin’ long before making contact.”

  “Gears isn’t here, so maybe he’s been a bit sloppier than usual.”

  “I don’t think so. Pax does stuff to fuckin’ annoy Gears, so having him around doesn’t make Pax any better behaved. If anything he’s worse ‘cos he knows Gears will chase him down and kick his ass. I think he likes the attention.”

  “What do you wanna do about it?”

  “I’m going to organize an aerial recon, but I also want a convoy on road to Wolfie’s base fuckin’ asap. I figure if we find him through the aerial recon, I’ll kick his ass and send the convoy home. If I can’t find him then we need to check he’s not being held captive at that fuckin’ refugee camp. If he is then I want the convoy on stand-by ready to get him and the team out.”

  “Makes sense,” Cutter replied with a nod. “What kind of force do you want on stand-by and when do you want them on route.”

  “Wolfie says he can give us three hundred shooters, twenty vehicles, and a couple of birds. That refugee camp is teeming with hunters, so I think we need to add another seven hundred, and bring it to an even thousand with another four birds.”

  Cutter whistled. “That’s a lot of shooters and vehicles, and it’ll make a more complex convoy to manage. We’re a bit short of experienced leads for such a large convoy.”

  With Gears, TL and Pax effectively out of action he was short on leaders. If he didn’t have the leads to control the convoy, he might as well not have one. To reduce the risk, he thought it would be better if he simplified.

  “Whatdaya recommend?”

  “Match Wolfie. It’ll still give you a total of six hundred shooters and it’s a more manageable convoy.”

  It was one of things he really appreciated about Cutter, he was always willing to say his piece and gave good advice. Nodding in agreement, he said, “I need them on route asap. If I can’t find Pax within the next day or so we’ll need to move real fuckin’ fast.”

  “Okay. I’ll have them on road by tomorrow morning at the latest. They should be at Wolfie’s base within a couple of days.”

  “Good. Stay in touch. I don’t want to be sending out a fuckin’ search party to find the fuckin’ search party.”

  Cutter chuckled. “No worries.”

  Next he went in search of Hatch. He’d asked him to stay at the base overnight so he could pilot the aerial search. Gerry had refused to fly back to the ship with any pilot other than Hatch, and he was running comms from the Marine supply base. He wasn’t sure how that worked, but Gerry assured him it didn’t make any difference where he was. Figuring Hatch would be refueling the bird, getting it ready to fly, he drove one of the small cars they used to get around the base to the gas pumps. He assumed Nelson and Isaac would be on route, and he needed to wait for them before he could leave.

  Seeing Hatch working on the bird, he eased himself out of the cramped little car. “How the fuck are we doing?”

  “We’re doin’ fine,” Hatch replied confidently.

  “Did you get Pax’s last known location and destination from Gerry?”

  “Yep, I know where we gotta go. I’ll be ready in an hour. How many people are you flyin’ with?”

  Mentally he counted the people. He wanted Nelson, Isaac, and five shooters plus himself. “Eight.”

  “Okie dokie, that’ll be ten of us, plus I’ll make sure the old girl is loaded with Hellfires and HYDRAS. You jus’ never know when they’ll come in handy.”

  Chuckling, he replied, “You use any excuse, Hatch.”

  “True story!”

  By the time he made it back to the living quarters to pick up his combat gear, Nelson and Isaac had landed and met him there. Isaac was such a small, pale, and skinny kid, he always wondered whether the designer virus hadn’t stunted the boy’s growth. It wasn’t just his stature, Isaac had almost childlike mannerisms and behaviors, but he needed at least one of the Infected to come with him to deal with any hunters. Georgia had offered to go, but after spending the night with her he felt awkward about having her tag along. She was a nice girl, but he’d never been with one of the Infected before and he wasn’t sure it was something he wanted to pursue. It hadn’t been a bad night, but with her blue on blue eyes, hunter body and aggression, he wasn’t sure she entirely human. Gears and Ip seemed to make it work, but they had a deep emotional connection and he certainly didn’t have that with her.

  Putting aside his thoughts of Georgia, he said, “I guess Gerry briefed you.”

  In his deep and steady baritone voice, Nelson replied, “Yes he did. Pop has been worrying about Pax too.”

  “He should have said.”

  “He did, but it would have more useful if he’d told you.”

  Looking at Isaac, he asked, “Can Isaac communicate with Ip? Let her know there’s a problem? Maybe we can alert Gears while he’s in the UK.”

  “He’s tried. He says Ip’s not talking to him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t know why, but he says her star has changed and he can’t explain to me what he means by that.”

  Shrugging, he replied, “It doesn’t matter. If he can’t talk to her then he can’t.”

  It took another forty-five minutes to get everyone organized and they were finally in the air, heading towards the last known location of Pax and his team. It was long and a boring flight. Looking down at the ground, he thought the land was getting drier and more barren. The earth appeared to be dying and he had a growing belief life on their land was being permanently lost. He thought if they didn’t solve the problem soon there’d be nothing left worth saving.

  They reached the town Pax last reported from, and traced the route he should have followed to get to the distribution center. Flying low over the road, he and Nelson each peered from their windows trying to catch sight of any sign they’d ever been on the road. They were flying over a large four-lane bridge, when he saw it was completely blocked by a crush of vehicles. In the middle of the bridge several trucks and cars were jammed together, and there was a four-wheel drive between them. It looked like it had gotten stuck trying to pass through the middle of the accident. The odd thing was that it should have easily fit through the gap. The other thing he noticed was, other than the crush of vehicles, the entire bridge was clear. Calling to Hatch to fly low over the accident, he noticed the four-wheel drive had lost its windshield, and recognizing the make and model of the vehicle, he was convinced it was one of theirs.

  Hatch landed at the end of the bridge closest to the accident site, and he walked over to the four-wheel drive with several shooters. There was a dark brown stain smeared across the road, and he recognized it as dried blood. The hood of the four-wheel drive was riddled with bullet holes, and one of their standard packs was behind the shattered windshield, lying empty and slack on the back seat.

  He walked to where Nelson was standing and said, “Yeah, that’s one of ours and it has to be Pax’s. Now we’ve got a real problem to deal with.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY: Raising the dead (Ip)

  Ip speaks: Hello brother. Where are you? Your wife is worried and we are too.

  Clearly confused, Pax looked around him. His cell was empty. His father had vanished the moment he told him to fuck off and BD had left in a huff. Puzzled by the voice, he asked loudly, “What?”

  Mackenzie heard him speak and asked, “Did you say something?”

  “I heard someone.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I dunno.”

  Ip speaks: Speak to me and not to him. I do not ask on a whim.

  Sounding annoyed at yet another weird thing happening in a day full of irregularities, he asked rudely, “Who the hell are ya?”

  Ip speaks: It is Death and we need to talk. It is not your rudeness that I cour
t.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had enough weird shit today, so whoever you are, you can fuck off too.”

  ***

  Ip speaks: The noisy one will not talk. He is far too blind to kindly court.

  They’d driven all day to reach Heathrow Airport and immediately headed home. Now they were all sitting on the plane, and it would be another five hours before they’d land at the Navy submarine base.

  “Sounds like Pax,” Gears remarked dourly. “Do you know where he is?”

  Ip speaks: I cannot say exactly where. But it is in a prison is what I fear.

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Outta the three of us he was voted most likely to do time.”

  Sitting opposite Gears, TL asked, “Are you talking to yourself, Gears? Every day you get older and crazier.”

  “Shaddup, TL. Ip is tryin’ to talk to Pax. She says he’s in a prison.”

  Comprehension dawned and TL chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “So, where is he?”

  “Dunno. He won’t talk to her.”

  “He’s an idiot. Is he alright?”

  Gears looked at Ip and asked, “Did you understand that, honey?”

  Ip speaks: The meaning is simple, the language is not. The noisy one is angry, his mission forgot.

  Looking across to TL, Gears said, “She says he’s angry and not payin’ attention.”

  TL snorted and said, “We don’t need Ip to know Pax is pissed off and distracted. So, how are we going to find him?”

  “Good question.”

  Leaning back in her leather airline chair, she ignored her fellow Horsemen. Their idle chatter was distracting, and although she understood their meaning, she found the words an unnecessary complication. Her purpose was simple. Death was her friend and it was her place to bring it to earth. It came with no past, no future, no fear, and no obligation. Death was not complex and neither was her existence. Bonded to War she brought death when he asked, but otherwise she had nothing to think about and no reason to think it. This mission belonged to War, and she wished he would stop asking her stupid questions and tell her who he wanted her to kill.

  Sighing, she idly picked at the stones on the sword that War had given back to her. It was hers and she was pleased to have it back, but there’d been no chance to use it and that disappointed her. With the dead walking the earth she expected to be needed more. It seemed something else had stolen her purpose and it left her with little to do, but watch the fight between heaven and hell. It was their role to judge, to make the final decision as to who should be victorious, but their right to rule was being challenged. Disappointed and bored, she poked the chair opposite her with the razor sharp blade, leaving deep tears in the bland grey-colored leather. A stringy white and wiry fabric leaked from the deep rents in the leather, and she dug her blade in a little deeper, twisting it so more of the springy fabric hung out of the cuts.

  Glancing at her, Gears growled, “Quit bein’ destructive, honey.”

  Annoyed at being scolded, she huffed and decided War was stupid today. The dead ruled the earth, the noisy one was missing, and they’d yet to kill the one that challenged their rule. In her opinion War was not being destructive enough, but it was not her role to make their decisions. Ignoring him, she continued to prod at the chair, and as she cut longer and deeper with her blade, more of the white substance seemed to foam from the seat.

  Grabbing her hand and pulling it away from the airline seat, he asked, “What are ya doin’? We gotta use this plane again.”

  Ip speaks: The dead walk and all you do is talk. When will we act to make our rule fact?

  “Whatdaya mean?”

  Ip speaks: We are the Horsemen, it is our role to rule. We hold the balance between heaven and hell, and yet for now, is it hell that tells.

  “How does bein’ a Horseman help our mission?”

  Ip speaks: We are always here. We cannot be killed, only delayed if so willed.

  “I think I can be killed, honey. I ain’t immortal.”

  Ip speaks: You are stupid today. Your brain is unwell.

  “If you’re jus’ gonna be rude I ain’t gonna talk to ya.”

  Ip speaks: You create the dead, so they walk the earth and that just adds to the Devil’s growing girth.

  “You’re not making any sense, honey. Ruler ain’t the Devil and the dead don’t walk the earth.”

  Ip speaks: Talk to me when your brain is right. Until you learn to listen, I will not fight.

  Turning away, she resumed her destruction of the chair. Seeing it was only full of wiry fluff, she grew bored and stared sulkily out of the small window at the clouds. War was being stubborn and not listening to her. While he dithered nothing changed and their rule continued to be ignored. It wasn’t right and she was unhappy with him. Pushing out her bottom lip, she pouted at the clouds and wished she had something to do.

  “Trouble in paradise?” TL asked with a smirk.

  Flicking his hand dismissively, he replied, “Ip says weird shit. She reckons the dead walk the earth, we’re Horsemen and our judgement is not bein’ obeyed.”

  “Sounds about right to me. The hunters are dead and they walk the earth. We did say man didn’t deserve this shit, and set ourselves a mission to destroy the hunters and restore order, but Ruler’s doing a pretty good job at screwing us around, so our judgement is not being obeyed.”

  “Be that as it may, TL, that doesn’t make us the Horsemen of the Apocalypse or Ruler the Devil.”

  Pointing to the markings that were now visible on her hands and face, TL asked, “So, how do you explain what’s happening to Ip?”

  Her face had a fine spider web of intricate patterns that ran from her left breast, and up side of her neck and face. The ridging that first appeared on her forearms, extended up her arms to her shoulders, and ran symmetrically down both sides of her spine to the top of her buttocks. Interweaved into the ridges, was the same intricate pattern. She looked like she was wearing a delicate body suit of finely patterned dark lace.

  “I dunno, but she’s infected, so maybe the virus is evolvin’ like Lydia said it might.”

  “You have a rational explanation for everything. Explain to me why the pattern on that sword is the same as the one on her skin.

  Looking at the sword and at her neck, Gears took her arm and gently pushed the sleeve up her slender forearm. The delicate etchings on the sword and the intricate pattern on her arm were identical.

  Sounding utterly confused, Gears asked, “How the hell is that possible? When I gave her the sword she said it was hers, and I gotta admit she handled it like she knew it and loved it.”

  Putting his hand under her chin and gently turning her face to his, he asked, “Why does the pattern on the sword match the markin’s on you?”

  Pulling her sleeve back down her forearm, she frowned at him.

  Ip speaks: I told you once and I will not tell you again. We are the Horsemen!

  Gears turned back to TL. “She says it’s ‘cos we’re the Horsemen and that’s not an answer I can use. So, how would you explain it?”

  “I dunno, Gears, but at some point you have to accept the world doesn’t work the way you thought it did, and accept the way it really does work.”

  “Whatdaya mean?”

  TL leaned forward in his chair. “When I was a kid I thought no one would ever be around for very long, until one day I looked around at everyone in my life and I realized they’d been with me for decades. I had the wrong idea about life and it wasn’t until I was surprised by reality that I realized I’d been living with the wrong idea.”

  Gears nodded and TL continued. “That’s kinda what’s happening now. You don’t believe in God or the Devil or demons, but you’re living in a world that seems to have the Devil and the demons. But for all the evidence you live with every day, you can’t see that you’ve had the wrong idea about life. That maybe the Devil and the demons were always here, and just because
you don’t believe in them, doesn’t make them any less real.”

  “Okay. Even if I accept Ruler is the Devil and the super hunters are demons, what difference does it make to what I do?”

  “You’re missing the point, Gears. If you accept there’s a Devil then you have to accept there’s a God, and if there’s a God then why wouldn’t there be Horsemen?”

  “No, no, no, now you’re extrapolating. Why does there have to be a God jus’ ‘cos there’s a Devil?”

  Ip speaks: If there was only a Devil then there would only be hell. You are too stupid for anyone to tell.

  “Shaddup, honey.”

  “What did she say?”

  Gears sighed and said, “She thinks I’m stupid today.” Narrowing his eyes and contemplating her, he added, “You’d think we were married.”

  “You two are married, Gears, and she’s right, you are being stupid today. If there was only a Devil then there’d only be hell and that hasn’t been true, so somewhere there’s another force at play, and for the sake of a name, let’s call it God.”

  When Gears said nothing, TL continued. “And if there’s a Devil and a God, then it’s not such a huge leap to believe there would be a neutral force to call it when those two players couldn’t agree.”

  “I dunno, TL. That’s a very human-centric view. Are you sure mankind is so important the Devil, God and the Horsemen would be needed.”

  Contemplating his brother, TL shook his head. “As far as we know, we’re the most complex species in the universe, capable of extreme acts of good and bad. Look at our creations, our perseverance, and both the beauty and destruction we’ve collectively brought to earth over the thousands of years we know of. Mankind is not a trivial life force, and we’re not as simple as the other animals that walk the earth with us. Ip’s right. Your head is blocked and you only see what fits your simple rules for man. You need to challenge your own assumptions, Gears, or I think you may miss the point entirely, and if you do, we can’t win this war.”

  “Did you jus’ call me a blockhead?” Gears asked in disgust.

  “Yeah. Ip’s right. You’re stupid today.”