Dead Hunt

CHAPTER 14 – The Van

Lucy quickly rummaged through the bags trying not to look at Wade’s corpse. She found a bottle of water and took a long drink. It was disgustingly warm, almost hot, but it quenched her agonizing thirst. She poured some over her head as if trying to wash away the stench, then took another long, powerful gulp.

The water trickled down her face like tears, but she didn't have time to cry. She wanted to, she just didn't have time. She rifled through some more bags and found a pair of running shoes, socks, a t-shirt and more of the sun-roasted water. She grabbed her cache then stepped outside to escape the stench that burned in her nostrils.

Lucy lowered herself to the ground and gritted her teeth in pain as she peeled the blood-soaked sock from her battered foot. She took a deep breath and poured water over her wounds. Without taking the time to let the pain subside, she used one of the socks as a makeshift bandage to wrap her battered and blistered foot.

She picked up her trusted machete, and her lightly-freckled nose crinkled as she gave the mob a defiant stare. Empty, emotionless eyes stared back at her. The corner of Lucy's lip curled in disgust as she turned her back to them and started to jog.

Pain shot through her foot with a jolt, and her thighs begged for mercy. She had only taken a few steps before slowing to a fast walk. She may have been an athlete, but all this running around and lack of sleep was taking its toll on her petite body. That’s when she heard it. Her heart jumped in disbelief. It couldn’t be. She listened intently. There it was again; a ringing sound.

“My cell phone!” Lucy cried out excitedly as she spun around towards the van. In her desperation to find water her exhausted mind had completely forgotten that her cell phone sat waiting in the side pocket of her duffle bag. And, it was ringing! That meant there was a signal. That meant she could call for help! She was rescued!

Lucy took a few excited steps towards the van, ignoring her screaming foot, then froze in her tracks. Her heart sank.

Rescue was not within her grasp. Something stood between her and rescue: the zombies.

They had already reached the van. Most of them just staggered past it towards Lucy, but a few stragglers still hung around the vehicle, attracted to the stench of death. Lucy slowly walked backwards, her eyes darting side to side taking in her surroundings as her exhausted mind raced through possibilities.

“Double-back through the woods,” she thought excitedly. “No, that won’t work,” she corrected herself. “The zombies in the van might not leave, and then I’ll be surrounded.”

Her hand clenched the machete handle. “Kill the fuckers. Kill every last one of them!”

“There’s too many,” the other side of her brain told her. A war raged inside her mind: her emotions and intellect battled for dominance.

Intellect won.

It was hopeless. Help was perhaps just a phone call away, but it was a call she was not going to be making. A loud crack jolted her mind back to the task at hand. She looked from side to side for the source of the sound but saw nothing. She felt something tapping the top of her head. She looked up as tiny droplets of water kissed her face. The intensity increased abruptly as a heavy rain blew in. Moments later she was as wet as a trout.

She laughed sardonically. “Figures.”

And, like so many times before, Lucy turned her back on the approaching mob and walked away, leaving her cell phone, and her last hope of rescue, behind.

Her laughter turned to sobs which shook her body. Tears flowed hot down her cheeks and melded with the cold rain. Her mind raced through recent memories, memories of her friends, of their happy, smiling faces. Those visions were replaced with the horror of watching those same faces screaming as their young flesh was being ripped apart by monsters.

She limped forward in the chilling downpour, her determination resolute. She was getting off this mountain.