The second man rose to follow but found Matt rushing toward him. In a flash, he swung out his left leg and connected with Matt’s side. Matt doubled over, spun and kicked out himself. His foot connected with the man’s leg and the man went down. He tucked his body and rolled away coming up with his handgun in his hand. As he brought the barrel to aim, a shot rang out.
Matt saw a flash from the hay bale and threw up his hand in a careless wave. He hunkered down ready to follow the last man when three more shots rang out in the distance.
Snorts and stomping hooves filled the night. The sound of a thundering stampede of hooves filled the night. Another terrified scream was suddenly muffled by the sound of the charging buffalo.
Matt reached the corner of the shed and looked around in time to see a man disappear under the mass of moving bodies. The herd trampled over the ground where the man had been standing. The herd in mass, ran past the building, made a wide arc and moved off into the distance.
When the sound of the herd disappeared, Matt made his way to where the man had disappeared amid the stampede. There was little left of him. The chest was crushed, while the man’s arms and legs were broken and bent in odd angles.
Matt turned toward the hay bales and double clicked his LED light. Tate blinked her light back. Matt watched as a slender shadow appeared from the top of hay. She looked toward the retreating herd one last time then slid down the side of the bale. She began making her way toward the light then stopped at the body of the man she had shot. The bullet had gone into the middle of the chest and blown out the back of his spine.
When Matt approached, she asked. “Well, did we kill ‘em all?”
Matt answered. “Except for one, I left strung up a ways back.”
Tate looked at the body on the ground. The lower jaw had begun to work spastically. “Now that’s fucked up.”
Matt squatted down next to the body to get a better look. “I thought it took a bite or blood to get the virus.”
Tate let out a long breath and whispered. “You know what that means?”
Matt looked confused. “Not exactly, no.”
Tate gagged. “It’s air born. The virus has mutated and we’re all going to come back.” She leaned over with her hand on her knees taking deep breaths fighting the clinching of her stomach. She could feel the nausea begin to fade. “The world is fucked.”
“Looks like it.” Matt pulled his blade and slid the ten inch steel into the attacker’s eye socket and twisted. “Let’s go talk to a man about those women and kids.”
As Matt led Tate to the man hanging from the oak limb, he retrieved the weapons he had hidden. He only bothered with the handgun from the trampled man. The rifle barrel had bent under hooves of the herd.
When they got to the oak tree, Tate gasped when she saw a man swinging from the oak limb. The whites of his eyes glowed in the shadows of the night. He was terrified. Matt got to his side and untied the bandana and pulled the end of the rag from the man’s mouth.
“Talk.” Matt ordered.
The man moaned. “I can’t feel my hands. Cut me down.”
Tate walked up and slapped the man’s face. “Quit whining. Now tell us about the women in the cage, asshole.”
The man looked panicked. “They’re for the camp. We were alone. Jed said we needed women. It’s his place.”
Matt stood back and folded his arms across his chest. Tate leaned closer with an angry scowl. “What kind of place?”
“Camp. He’s a survivalist sort of. We went out to shoot guns and had a couple whores….” His voice trailed off when he noticed the look on Tate’s face.
She slammed her fist into the man’s gut. “You fuckers kidnapped ‘em?”
“Well?” The man began, but Matt grabbed his face in a vice-like grip. “You’re going to tell us all about the camp. How many men are went on this little kidnapping raid and who’s in charge? Where they’re camped, now.” He leaned close and spoke softer yet. “If you don’t tell me everything, I’ll slit you open and leave you tied to a tree with your own guts.”
The man nodded his head. “I’ll tell you!”
An hour later, Tate, Matt and Rodney, the kidnapper, were headed back to the camp where the women were being held. Rodney drove, Tate sat next to him in the truck cab with a gun pressed into his rib. Matt stood in the truck bed with his boonie hat pulled down over his face.
“Make this good or I’ll start shooting and you’ll be the first one I take out.” Tate ordered.
Matt studied the camp as they approached. The only people they had to watch for were an elderly couple that had been in the Oldsmobile. Their daughter and two grandkids were in the cage so easily controlled.
Six survivalists remained in camp to control the old couple and the caged women. Rodney slowed when he neared the camp and saw the first guard. Matt slipped from the back of the truck.
“Don’t do anything stupid and you might live through this.” Tate advised in an angry whisper.
“Sammy? That you?” Rodney asked as he neared a man standing guard at the entrance of a farmhouse driveway.
“Sure is. Where’s the rest of the men?” Sammy asked.
“Bringing up the big truck soon as they syphon diesel from another truck. They’ll catch up soon enough.” Rodney glanced toward Tate.
“Good deal. We need all the fuel we can get.” Sammy laughed. “Head on in. Cows are fed and it’s almost time to check out one or two.” He laughed wickedly.
Tate jammed the gun in Rodney’s rib. “Move out, she hissed.
Rodney pulled away. Tate glanced back and saw a shadow swallow Sammy in a deadly embrace.
Charlotte Hoaks. . . .(C. A. Hoaks) 