“If you come out now, I won’t even punish you for running away. In fact, I’ll cook you a nice hot meal and tuck you into bed. I’ll even let you sleep inside tonight. Keep you nice and cozy right beside me.”
I had a good idea of what nice and cozy meant. It made my stomach heave and bile rise at the back of my throat. Besides that, he’d said he wanted to use me as bait, and Rabids hunted at night. I was probably safer where I was. At least I’d have a shot at getting away if any Rabids came to call.
I heard the crunch of his boots approaching, but I couldn’t tell exactly where he was, nor did I trust my hearing to be entirely accurate. My body trembled and tears squeezed out the corners of my eyes as I prayed for God to shield me from this terrible, terrible man just as He’d done for Daniel in the lion’s den.
“You are going to regret this,” Jeremiah said and fired one shot into the night. Chuckling, he said, “Now the Rabids know where to find you. Sleep tight, Joshua, don’t let the Rabids bite.”
His footsteps retreated then, clomping noisily through the woods, but it may have been a trick to get me to come out from hiding. I could try to run, but I didn’t trust that he was gone for good, nor did I believe I could outrun both him and whatever Rabids might be lurking nearby in the dark woods, especially when I was barefoot.
No, I’d stay here and sneak away at first light.
But then what?
NINETEEN
CIPHER
It had been roughlytwelve hours since Kitten went missing, and the only updates from Larry and the Assholes were to tell me that he’d not been found. Every minute of a search and rescue was critical. It was nearing dark, and I had a decision to make: stop and build a fire to ward off the Rabids or continue on?
I paused to survey my surroundings at the next peak in the valley. The light was fading fast. I wished I were better at climbing so that I could get higher up and scout the terrain, see if I could spot Jeremiah’s rig or campfire smoke in the distance. He must have places along the way where he stopped to rest. If he had kidnapped Kitten, there was no telling what he might do to hold onto him. I needed to surprise him.
One silver lining was that the tread never veered from its course, and I could see new grooves made into the old trail that Jeremiah must have taken to Promised Land. I likely wouldn’t be able to sleep if I stopped, so I decided to press on.
It was unnerving to say the least, and my progress was hindered by the fact that I had to listen closely to every little noise in the forest. Was it an animal or was it a Rabid? Rabids were sneaky until they smelled evidence of human activity. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they turned aggressive and reckless. Was I being hunted too?
Hours after night had fallen, I’d stopped just long enough to take a few sips of water when I heard something approaching.
There was a shriek in the woods, followed by the sounds of footsteps crashing through the forest and headed my way. I hadn’t thought to bring my night vision goggles in my haste to leave, so I wouldn’t be able to see them until they were right upon me, and there was nowhere to hide where they wouldn’t smell me. I ran in the opposite direction, looking for a place to climb so that I might escape them, or at the very least, gain a better vantage point.
I found a large fallen tree–it would have to do–and dove behind it. I’d make this my trench and pick off as many Rabids as I could. It might take them a while to figure out the source of the bullets and by then, hopefully, I’d have eliminated a few.
But how many were there?
My gun was loaded, safety off, as I steadied my hand. The first one was male, judging by the Rabid’s larger, boxier frame. His nose was missing, which meant he must be relying on his hearing alone to find me, since their eyesight was so poor. The skin on his face that remained was covered with open, weeping sores. The putrid smell of rotting flesh tickled my nostrils as he bared his teeth, drooling a shit-ton of saliva. I gagged but kept my eyes trained on my target. Thankfully there was enough moonlight for me to track him as he lumbered my way.
I aimed for his head, which was more likely to stun him than a hit to the chest, as their mutated nervous systems had a way of taking over the body, even when their other organs had failed.
He let out a monstrous groan, jaw so wide that it looked unhinged as saliva flowed like a river from his gaping mouth. With his milk-white eyes wide open and his arms blindly reaching, he stumbled toward me with alarming speed.
I pulled the trigger, and the mist of red told me the head shot had been successful. The Rabid staggered backward, glanced around as if disoriented, then lurched toward me again. I had ammo to spare but I didn’t like making all that noise and potentially attracting more Rabids. Not to mention, if Jeremiah was nearby, gunshots would surely alert him to my presence.
Still, I was no good to Kitten if I was dead, so I pumped the Rabid full of lead before turning my attention to his companions, a woman and–fuck me, this one had to be a child. Most children either recovered or died from Rabbit Fever, but not this one, apparently. Smaller than Teresa and clutching a dirty teddy bear in one hand, she hid behind what I assumed was her mother, just as a human child might. This must be a family, recently turned, and I’d just killed the father. I fired off a few more shots without looking and decided my soul wasn’t black enough for this shit.
I abandoned my position and ran deeper into the forest, trying to remember where I’d come from so I could find the path again later. Crashing through the forest, I berated myself for panicking. I’d been too long away from the dangers of Rabid Country and my skills had gone soft. But dammit, I didn’t want to kill children, even Rabid ones.
Safe for now, I slowed my pace, fine tuning my hearing to the forest, which was eerily absent of sound. With my heart pounding and my skin dripping in sweat, I tried to determine where the next threat might come from.
I didn’t have to wait long.
The tree line ended abruptly at a small meadow. A dozen or more Rabids stood there in a line as if they’d been waiting for me. The family had herded me to their pack–shit I’d never seen before–and now I was faced with a fucking army of frothing mouths and countless teeth bared in anticipation of the feast.
What a shitty way to die.
I unloaded an entire round into the lineup, but it didn’t stop their advance. They were organized, like soldiers. I was outnumbered and likely wouldn’t survive a battle in close contact, not without backup, so again, I ran. Never my best strategy. They lumbered behind me like a clumsy herd of buffalo, their footfalls rumbling like thunder. I was their prey, nothing more, and I’d never felt the terror of being hunted as acutely as I did right then.
Think, Cipher.
I could try hiding and risk them finding me, then tearing me limb from limb, or I could climb somewhere out of reach and pray they hadn’t learned how to do that yet. In addition to being shit at running, I was also shit at climbing, but I’d have to give it a shot if I hoped to live. Even with a little bit of height, I could pick them off one at a time instead of having to battle them all at once.
