Breathe Deep Fear Vol. 1 Page 5

  Wolf just offered smug advice.

  He’d never admit it, but the trip had been more bearable having them along. Yeah, probably getting his head checked out would be a smart move. They were dangerous and most likely unwilling to answer any questions. Deriving any form of comfort was definitely due to the head trauma.

  Checking his gun as he stepped out onto the pavement, he frowned and searched around for more shells in his pockets. Nine shots weren’t going to last long if the town was overrun. The frown deepened as his fingers found nothing but empty space. The extra shells must have fallen out one of the times he was rolling around.

  Sam’s growling snapped him from his thoughts.

  He had nine shots. That would have to do.

  Carefully, the group approached the main street. Sam’s growls became louder as the hair on his back rose. Dean’s claws dug in deeper to the jacket, and Cale could feel him starting to puff up. Where would those things pop out from? His eyes swept back and forth across the street.

  Then, the snarling started.

  It was so faint that for a moment, Cale thought he had imagined it. But one quickly turned into five, and it grew louder. Soon it was like the buildings themselves were making the noise. It filled the street and narrow alleys between the shops. Still, nothing came into sight. The chorus grew louder, and suddenly a sense of familiarity washed over him. The way they were making noise was almost like how coyotes would yip to confuse predat-

  Oh crap.

  Three ran out from behind the corner at the far end of the street. They charged forward in an almost even run. If they weren’t abnormally pale and sported large fatal wounds, he’d almost take them for human by how they moved. At least they weren’t anyone he recognized; it may have been difficult to shoot them.

  He aimed and fired three shots, dropping one and slowing the other two.

  Suddenly, the entire place erupted into a symphony of stampeding footsteps. His own breathing was buried beneath the horrific sounds. More and more started to appear out of alleys and further down the road. Six shots left, if he could only make a path. Another series of shakes ran through him.

  He jumped as a gloved hand clamped down on his shoulder. Hawk started to push him towards the general store. Why couldn’t he stop shaking?

  “We must fortify our position.”

  She practically dragged him over as Wolf kicked in the door and bolted inside. His vision blurred, nearly toppling him over. Not now, don’t lose it now. He whistled and Sam was right on his heels as she pulled him inside, waited for the dog to enter, and slammed the door shut.

  Wolf raced from one corner to the next, poking his head into any potential hiding spots. He dashed up the stairs as Hawk raced around the store. With a hammer and a handful of nails, she returned to the door.

  “The place is empty.” Wolf ran down the stairs. “Is the back door locked?”

  “No, and the stronger ones may try for the front window.”

  Hawk kept her voice completely even and hammered each nail through the door and into the frame perfectly. Cale suspected that the monsters would have to knock down the entire foundation by the time she was done, or they would just find another bear.

  Wolf started to push the shelves towards the large window at the front of the store. Cale ignored them and stumbled into the back. He had worked for the owner one summer. It was doubtful the old timer had changed the method for locking up. Why it was unlocked, or how they knew it, was a question for another time.

  Grabbing the two inch round rebar leaning against the adjoining wall, he jammed it onto the hooks bolted into the door frame. Three inches of solid wood and four thick cast iron hinges would keep the outside world at bay. They would need a battering ram to bring it down. It should give him a chance to breathe.

  Hawk helped Wolf finish bracing the door and window with the stocked shelves as he came out from the back.

  “Let’s head upstairs. We’ll kick on the lights and relax for a bit. Even the stronger ones shouldn’t get in.”

  Wolf jogged up the steps, Hawk closely in tow. Cale gave the downstairs a once over and then trudged up, his trembling hand barely holding onto the rail. Stepping into the owner’s bedroom, he winced as they kicked the lights on. His eyes had gotten so used to the dark that the light was like dumping acid on his retina. Honestly, the streetlights were more for show this time of night.

  He heard two sets of safeties click off.

  “Have you been bitten?” Hawk asked.

  “What?”

  He still couldn’t make them out in the light. What was her problem now?

  “Have you been bitten?”

  “No.”

  “You’re covered in blood.”

  “It’s mine.”

  Why couldn’t he just lie down?

  “Liar. You wouldn’t be able to move with that much out of your system.”

  “Do you see the bandage on my head, you stupid trigger happy psychopath?”

  He nearly collapsed, the shotgun almost slipping out of his grip. Okay, shouting wasn’t good. What was her problem? He wasn’t one of those things so obviously his wound was from something else. Damn, why was he so cold?

  “Remove the head wrap.” Gone was the smug tone in Wolf’s voice. In its place was something serious and unyielding. “Now.”

  Cale weakly nodded. Why not? They wanted to see his nasty cut fine. If it would let him rest sooner, then he’d do it. Besides, a firefight with Dean on his chest and Sam at his feet was not an option. He reached up and undid the wrap as he fought to keep his fingers still. The matted gauze pulled on the scabbing wound, garnering a pained wince as it peeled away the goop and recently dried blood.

  Squinting, he looked up at them. Why did their body language look like they were surprised?

  “Jesus.”

  She rushed over to him, pulled Dean out of his jacket, and had peeled the damp coat off so quickly it was almost one fluid movement.

  “What are you doing?”

  Wasn’t she just trying to shoot him a minute ago?

  “I can actually see your skull.” She pushed him over to the bed and made him lie flat. “You have lost a severe amount of blood. How long were you in the woods?”

  “I don’t know. Six hours, I guess.”

  She pulled off her helmet and set in on the bed stand as Wolf came up. The man was radiating an excited curiosity that even the black visor of his helmet couldn’t hide.

  “The truck that crashed off the road. Was that yours?” Cale nodded as Hawk opened a pouch hanging off the back of her belt. “Damn kid! You take out that bear?”

  Cale nodded again as Hawk pulled out a bunch of medical supplies from the pouch. Gripping his chin, she positioned his head and leaned in closer to the wound. Her violet eyes scrunched up in concern. Under normal circumstances, he would probably have found her extremely attractive, if she wasn’t always trying to shoot him.

  “Damn it.” She glanced back up at her partner. “Wolf, he’s nearly freezing and probably has had two concussions.”

  “You do have one hell of a right hook.”

  “Wolf!”

  “Relax, I know about the potential for brain swelling. The truth is if he had a brain, he wouldn’t have been out there to begin with.” Wolf went to the front side window and slid it open. “You make sure to nurse him back to health. I’m going to keep an eye on things from the roof.”

  Hawk sighed as he climbed out and turned back to Cale. She tore open a plastic bag and pulled out a threaded needle.

  “Try to relax. This is going to hurt.”

  Chapter

  9

  Cale gritted his teeth as the needle pierced his tender scalp for the twentieth time. She claimed she was trying to be thorough. He suspected she kept the stitches small to antagonize him. The thread slowly slid through the two pieces of skin, his fingers gripping the quilt she had smothered him with. She claimed he was nearly hypothermic from being in a wet coat in near freezing temperatu
res. He believed she was just trying to kill him.

  Her eyes glanced down at his hands fisted beneath the quilt.

  “Are you alright?”

  “No.”

  He jumped as a gunshot rang out from above, quickly followed by an insane cackle, the needle just barely missing his right eye. She gripped his mussed brown hair and pressed his head against the bed.

  “Hold still!”

  He leveled a glare, which probably lost its edge with him swaddled in the bed like an infant. Still, hold still? The only way that was going to happen was if he wasn’t surrounded by nutcases with guns. Cringing as she jabbed the needle in harder than before, he contemplated pushing her away and being done with her … treatment. The only thing holding him in place was that he probably needed to be stitched up, and honestly, she was helping him for some twisted reason.

  She jabbed the needle again and he let out a pained groan disguised under annoyance.

  “Aren’t you done yet?”

  Stop, don’t be ungrateful. He silently chastised himself. Just ignore that you have zero trust in her and that there was a madman on the roof.

  “Would you prefer I left your head split open?”

  “Possibly.”

  She let out an angry sigh as her grip tightened on his hair.

  “We’re not your enemy.”

  “Yet, you shoot at me repeatedly.”

  The flicker of a wince raced over her features. Silence fell over the room as she finished the final two stitches and packaged the reusable medical items back into her pouch.

  “I thought you were one of those things.” Her voice was quiet, and her back remained turned to him. He thought he almost heard a slight amount of shame or guilt mixed with it. “I reacted on impulse.”

  “Even when I was dodging your knife?”

  Her soft chuckle almost seemed sad to him.

  His eyes drifted up to the ceiling, the tightness from the stitches pulling on his forehead. He really just wanted to sleep and was just on the edge of it, but with all those things outside he doubted any real rest would be possible. Even now, those things were pawing and scratching at the building, searching for any kind of opening or weakness in the building’s defense. Sure, their actions were just mindless grabbing motions, but it sounded more deliberate, like they were testing it – learning about it.

  Like in the woods.

  He forced himself to sit up, but Hawk was immediately pushing his shoulders back down.

  “Lay down.”

  He pushed her hands away and fully sat up.

  “How long have we been here?”

  His adrenaline mixed with the aspirin she had gotten him from downstairs began diminishing the pain in his head. Those things were getting smarter. They had hunted him in the woods and had adapted to his actions. Staying out of sight, out of range, and simple distractions; who was to say they couldn’t do something similar with entering the building? How long had it taken them? Minutes, no, it was longer than that, but it didn’t seem like an hour. Maybe half of that?

  “You need to-”

  “How long?”

  She frowned as he kicked his feet over the edge of the bed.

  “Almost an hour.”

  She tried to push him back, but he brushed her hands aside and staggered to his feet. Where had she put his boots? Where was his gun? Dean was curled up against Sam at the base of the bed, although the dog’s head was up and alert. No doubt his companion already had a similar sense about what was going on.

  Hawk spun him around and forced him to look straight at her.

  God, she was intimidating when she was pissed.

  “Sit down.”

  “Those things are getting in here.”

  “I haven’t heard any doors or windows being broken.”

  “They’re learning.”

  “And you’ve had several concussions and are possibly delusional.” Her face softened slightly. “You need to rest.”

  He walked over to his boots by the door and pulled them on, flicking off patches of mud so he could lace them up the hooks. So what if they didn’t believe him? They would probably end up using him as bait or sacrificing him anyway. With a few more shells, he could probably get Sam, Dean, and himself out safely. Maybe they could find a car with the keys in it or above the visor. There probably wouldn’t be enough time to hotwire it so there had to be keys. But, would he have enough time to go from car to car before those things surrounded him?

  Heading down the stairs, he glanced around the store. He’d need shells, a carrying crate for Dean; did the owner still keep snacks and drinks in back?

  His eyes drifted over to the darkened windows. The barricades covered the majority of the glass. The bodies outside darkened the rest in churning wave, leaving only slivers of light blinking through. The scratching and pounding was a lot louder here than upstairs. Pictures on the walls were dangerously close to falling off from the vibrations.

  He barely heard the safety click. Turning, the barrel of Hawk’s gun was aimed right at his head.

  Again, really?

  “What the hell are you doing?” She asked.

  “Getting out of here.”

  “Delusional or not, I will shoot you if you open any of these exits.”

  His lack of patience getting the better of him, he stepped forward so that his face was hovering just over the end of the gun.

  “Then do it! It would be better than getting eaten by those things. If you have a shred of compassion, you’ll do the same with my pets.”

  “You are being a fool!”

  “Want me to prove you wrong?”

  Taken back, she lowered the gun slightly. He turned and walked behind the main counter. His lips curved up into a slight grin as he spotted the boxes of shotgun shells. They weren’t even the cheap ones. His grin grew even bigger as he spotted the unopened can of peanuts hiding behind the credit card machine. He tore off the lid and shoved a handful of the snack in his mouth. They were unsalted and a little old, but they might as well have been a prime rib.

  He offered the can to her.

  “Peanuts?”

  Leaving the can on the counter, he scooped up another handful and tucked the box under his free arm. They usually carried cat cases at the store. Hopefully, they had one that wouldn’t be too heavy for Sam. Because of his own problems, he hadn’t gotten a chance to look at his leg. Not that he could do anything, since it was probably just aggravated more than damaged. Didn’t change the fact that the dog was hindered, and unfortunately, he couldn’t carry the crate and fire.

  Maybe it would be smarter to hunker down?

  He walked to the back door where the scratching sounded the worst. Hawk followed closely, but must have noticed the noise because she hadn’t raised the gun again. Popping the peanuts into his mouth and wiping his hand on his pant leg, he unsheathed his Bowie and pressed the tip into the door. It scratched the surface several times before sinking fully into the door without any resistance.

  Placing the knife back in its sheath, he peered into the small hole … the clawed fingers digging through the other side.

  “How thick is that door?”

  He turned back to her.

  “Three inches. I told you. They’re learning.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Hawk.” They both looked up at the stairs. Wolf leaned forward on the railing. “The kid’s right. We’re in it deep.”

  Chapter

  10

  As the door crumbled and the monsters burst through, Cale was unsure exactly what he felt. Hawk’s speechless look was something that would amuse him to his grave. Of course, the fact that the horde pouring in could put him in one prematurely soured the moment. He did not want to die, or for his pets to suffer, but at least he’d go knowing he shut her up.

  Wolf slammed the door behind him and pushed a heavy oak dresser in front of the door. Cale went straight to Dean and pushed the kitten inside the new crate. The little feline probably had zero
patience left. Sam too was starting to look uncharacteristically weary. The golden tail wagged weakly between his hind legs even as he stood by the crate.

  “How are they learning?” Hawk pulled her helmet on and snapped the bottom up tight around her jaw.

  “Beats me, must be a new batch, or maybe we’ve never let them live long enough. I noticed they were starting to stay away from where I could nail them.” Wolf went back over to the window. “It’s not limited to their instincts either, take a look.”

  Cale and Hawk joined him by the window and looked down, his stomach churning as the creatures came into view. Once normal human digits had thinned and pointed, allowing some of them the ability to clumsily scale the side of the shop. They failed, but every attempt brought them an inch closer to the window. Maybe another ten minutes of practice, and the things would be climbing freely.

  “How do we get out?” Cale looked up at Wolf out of the corner of his eye. “Firing down on them will just waste ammo.”

  “We don’t. Our job’s to kill these things. It’d be nice if we had help, but the next closest team is an hour away.”

  “There has got to be a hundred out there.” Cale felt his heart sink as he scanned the crowd. Many of the rotting faces were people he knew. “How do you plan on killing that many? I know for a fact they don’t die easily.”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I could throw your ass out there.”

  “Only if you want to get dragged down with me.”

  Cale walked away. Arguing and puffing his chest was stupid, not to mention pointless. He wasn’t going to let the bastard intimidate him, but there was no need to threaten him. There was no excuse for being rude. It was a waste of energy better spent on something constructive.

  The bed creaked as he sat back down on it, the sound of scrambling footsteps coming from the other side of the door. They probably had claws similar to the climbers if they shredded the back door, which meant it would only take a few minutes for them to get through this one. Even if they didn’t, that exit was blocked and it was the only viable route for Sam to escape through. There wasn’t any way to get him out now, and Dean would be almost as tough.