Dead Winter: A gripping crime thriller full of suspense (13 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Day Nine (29th December – 12:44AM)

So here I am, rope in my hands and dirt on my face. I continued my slow steps as I crept closer to the guard. I couldn't even allow myself to breathe right now, holding it in as I finally got behind him.

"What's tha-HKK" the guard muttered to himself, just as I quickly wrapped the rope around his neck, pulling it as tightly as I could.

He waved his arms around, the kukri cutting through the air. Still choking him, I kicked the blade out of his hand, sending it sliding across the damp grass until it came to a rest some three metres away.

Did I really have to do this?

Gradually, the guard ceased his violent movements as his body slowly went limp, I gently laid him across the floor, still holding the rope across his neck to choke the life out of him. I wondered if he was dead, or just unconscious. Neither bothered me right now.

Tying his hands together behind his back, I stood up and walked over to where the kukri lay, snatching it up from the ground.

"Jesus, Ethan. That was.." John said, cutting himself off as I walked over to the two of them, freeing them of their bindings.

"Unexpected." Dave said, finishing John's sentence for him. I dragged the body of the guard over to the corner of the stable we had been occupying and began tying his legs together.

"Is he dead?" I asked, my breath coming through deep and thick. I felt my hands shaking slightly as I finished tying the knots. My body was betraying how I felt on the inside. Dave knelt down beside the man, checking his pulse and his breathing, which had started again.

"No, he's just knocked out. He'll make a lot of noise when he wakes up though." Dave uttered, glancing up at me with a worried expression. Why were they so concerned about me? I'd only done what I had to.

Looking around the stable for a minute or so, I spotted a rag in the other corner of the room and proceeded to stuff it in the open mouth of the guard. He wouldn't be making any noise for now.

"I'll be taking that back now." John said sternly, pointing at the weapon in my hand. I almost hesitated for a moment in handing it over, staring at the weapon for a few seconds before passing it over to its rightful owner.

I felt naked without a weapon.

"So we're just going to leave him here to die?" Dave asked, his voice riddled with conflict. It was true, if we left him here he'd probably become a meal for the infected that were most likely lurking in the woods.

"He'd only do the same to us." I spat, vengeance surging through my veins. My blood felt hot, a searing heat which spread throughout my entire body. I wasn't going to let these people get away with what they'd done.

"Still.. it doesn't feel right." I heard Dave mutter under his breath.

"It's not about right or wrong, it's about survival." I said, unsure as to what I was talking about, I was merely saying whatever came to my mind.

"We need a plan, guys." John said, squatting down onto the ground, sitting cross-legged over the hay-strewn concrete. He was clearly concerned for Claire's safety, as he fidgeted constantly.

"I think we should stick together until we find our weapons." I said, voicing my opinion. The two men in front of me nodded silently until Dave opened his mouth to speak.

"But where are they? They wouldn't leave stuff like that unguarded." he sighed, looking frantically between myself and John for answers.

"Didn't you hear? They said they were keeping them in a shed." John stated, referring to something the hunters had said while they had been marching us over to this stable.

We all nodded in agreement and crept over to the doorway of the wooden stable, peering across the expanse of grass, trees and little buildings. The farmhouse itself was lit up like a beacon, it wasn't possible to miss it in this light.

John took the lead, as he was the only one with a weapon. Crouching down low, we walked as quickly as we could without making any noise, making our way around the farmhouse, keeping as low as we could in case the hunters looked through the windows.

Around the back of the house, John peered around a corner before walking back over to us to speak. I assumed that he'd located the shed or at least another hunter.

"Right, there's a little building near the fences over there, but it's guarded by two people." John whispered to the two of us, brushing his hair back a bit as strands of it had begun to escape from his ponytail.

"What are we going to do?" Dave asked nervously, looking over his shoulder every few seconds.

"There's a load of trees and bushes leading up to it. I say we sneak through those, behind the shed and take out the fuckers at the front." breathed John. I had to admit, John had adapted spectacularly to this whole situation, it was like he'd been born for this sort of thing.

John dashed out from behind the building and into the shrubbery. After peering over the hedge to check that the hunters weren't looking our way, he motioned Dave to come next. Dave moved as quickly as he could, clearing the distance in less than two seconds.

This all felt like a game.

Next, it was my turn to cross the divide separating the farmhouse and the foliage. After ten seconds, John gave me the sign and I ducked down low as I moved across the grass, making it over without a hitch.

As we moved through the small trees and low hedges, the chatter of the two hunters in front of the shed became audible. We stopped for a minute to listen to them talk.

"I'm freezing my nuts off here." one of the hunters groaned.

"Quit your whining, Mike." said the other in a rather harsh tone of voice. It was at this point that we decided to start moving again, sifting through the bushes until the back of the shed was in sight.

"Wonder what they're doing with the girl. How old do you think she is?" Mike asked, his speech still directed to the other hunter-guard. This reminded me of how quickly we had to act, lest something terrible happen to Claire.

Time was running out.

"Can't be any older than sixteen. Did you catch a look at the mop-head?" the other hunter said as I looked around for a weapon of some sort.

"He had some serious evils. Those eyes, man." the hunter known as Mike said, the two of them were certainly not trying to be quiet as they talked about me.

"It don't feel right, Mike. What if they escape?" sighed the unnamed hunter. Finally, my hands found a thick piece of wood. I turned it over in my hands and examined it, it looked like a piece of railing. John quietly told us to go around one side while he went around the other.

"I'd like to see them get past us." Mike boasted, his vast overconfidence amused me as Dave and I crept around the left hand side of the shed.

"Watch us." I whispered quietly to the hunters, raising the piece of wood high into the air before bringing it down on one of their heads. He crumpled to the ground in less than a second.

The other hunter opened his mouth to shout, but found himself silenced as a long blade appeared through his chest. He made a brief gagging sound as blood trickled from his mouth, dripping down onto the ground.

"Find the keys.." John muttered to himself as he started rifling through the pockets of the dead hunter. After a few seconds, he stood up again with a menacing smirk on his face, raising a bundle of keys into the air.

Examining the keys, John slid a rather small one into the padlock on the door of the shed, it unlocked with a quiet click before he threw it to the side, swinging the wooden door wide open.

It was eerily dark inside the shed, but John seemed to know what he was looking for as he rifled through a few sports bags until he found the one containing our weapons.

"We'll come back for the rest once we've got Claire. I'm going to kill them for this." John said, gritting his teeth together in anger. He pulled the bag into better light and began handing over weapons to each of us.

"Your sword isn't in here, Ethan." John stated with a hint of surprise.

"Seriously? That boss bastard must have it." I groaned, picturing the leader of the hunters gloating over his prize.

"Okay, Dave will come with me through the back door. Can you manage the front by yourself?" said John, checking the magazine in his handgun. Seemingly content with its contents, he slid it back in and stood up.

"You got it." I said confidently, trying to hide the smirk that I felt creeping across my face. Vengeance was making me strangely confident of my abilities.

Armed with only a handgun and a knife, I made my way around the building as quietly as I could, gripping the gun in my right hand. I glanced over my shoulder as I stepped onto the front porch. For a moment, I thought I heard a brief shout from the back of the house. John was doing his job, it seemed.

I was ready for anything.

Placing my free hand on the doorknob, I gripped it tightly and turned it; the door didn't even creak as I pushed it open to reveal a large living room. And there he was, sat in a chair facing away from me, staring into the open fire.

I walked one step at a time, approaching the man who I assumed was Randy, the 'leader' of the hunters. It had to be him, I thought to myself as I examined the back of his head. The man was black-haired with gray streaks running through it, wearing his hair in a mullet. Either that, or Randy had a twin brother we didn't know about.

The gun moved up until it was barely an inch away from the back of his head as I leaned in closer to utter a few choice words.

"Surprise, motherfucker!" I shouted, pressing the gun firmly into the back of Randy's head. I felt a twitch run down the length of the gun as he tried to turn his head to face me in panic, but I pulled the trigger as quickly as I could.

Blood spattered through the air as the bullet passed straight through his head, hitting a painting above the fireplace where it began to trickle down the surface of the canvas.

"The fuck what tha-!?" called a voice from the next room, interrupted by a brief but heavy thud, followed by the sound of someone falling to the ground.

I dashed over to the door and kicked it wide open. On the floor lay the hunter, George. The back of his head was caved in and there was blood all over the floor. There was a brief blur of colour as someone ran into me. Looking down, I saw Claire hugging me as tightly as she could, a hammer clenched inside one of her hands.

"Don't.." she panted, her breathing was wild and deep as she dropped the hammer, which made a large clunk that resonated through the open room.

"Don't what?" I asked, still adjusting to the fact that someone was touching me.

"Don't tell them I did it.." Claire whispered as Dave and John appeared around the corner, having dashed down the stairs as the sound of voices.

"Oh Jesus..." John sighed in relief, letting out a deep breath at the sight of Claire, who was seemingly unharmed.

"I'm fine! Absolutely.. fine." Claire said, trying to assure John that nothing had happened to her. I'd arrived just in time, it seemed.

"They didn't do anything to you?" John asked, kneeling down to face her as she finally let go of me.

"Ethan got here just in time, honestly!" Claire exclaimed, running her fingers through her blonde hair, the roots of which were a different colour.

"So the house is clear?" I asked, directing my question towards John, who nodded.

"Must've just been.. seven of them?" he replied, still breathing rather heavily as I turned around and picked up a torch from the table, noticing a pair of keys next to it.

Keys for the truck?

And there it was, propped up on one of the other chairs. My sword had a seat of its own for this display of vengeance. I snatched it up and held it tightly in my free hand before turning to face the others.

We stood there for several minutes, gaining a brief respite from the days action. Eventually, we made our way outside and began to pack our supplies into the truck while Dave rifled through the cabinets and drawers in the house.