Shattered: The Hunger, #6

By Jason Brant

After the deaths of friends and family members, Lance and Cass teeter on the brink of losing it all. They face insurmountable odds with the power out at The Light, and an army of horrors bearing down on their home.

 

The Demon King leads a horde of rage and destruction to their door, intending to wipe out one of the last strongholds of humanity. His intelligence has evolved differently from the other infected, allowing him to attack mankind's weaknesses and nullify their defenses.

 

As twilight descends into darkness, so does the last hope of civilization.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Brant
• Release date: Oct 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201907945

Jason Brant

"JASON BRANT" is an anagram for Bas Trojann, a former Bigfoot hunter who, after being abducted (and subsequently returned) by aliens, decided to hang up his ghillie suit and enter the world of professional arm wrestling. Despite back-to-back first place finishes in the South Dakota World Championship League, Bas receded from athletics to invent cheese and give Al Gore the initiative to create the internet. Nearly a decade after writing the bestselling self-help series, Tomato Soup and Grilled Cheese (Cut into Four Pieces) for the Soul, Bas has left his life of notoriety and critical acclaim behind him to write existential, erotic poetry. His wife washes their clothing on his abs.

Book preview

1

Lance could barely see anything as he ran for the bedroom door. The evening had come and gone without him noticing. By the time they’d followed Higgins back to The Light, the last vestiges of the day had faded away. Now, without power, darkness enveloped the building.

Panic overwhelmed everyone.

The few survivors on their floor all shouted at once.

Lance ignored them.

Couldn’t have understood them, anyway.

The Vladdies’ shrieks drowned out everything else.

He stumbled over the dead body of a woman he didn’t recognize, paying her no mind. His eyes locked on the bedroom door, what little of it he could see. Dragon, Finn, and Lilith were inside. He had to reach them, protect them.

How he intended to do that was a conundrum.

The silver door handle stood out in the darkness. He reached for it, threw the door open. Lilith screamed at his intrusion. Lance stepped through the doorway, hoping his eyes would adjust to the dark.

They didn’t.

It wasn’t as loud in the room. The windows must have remained intact, quieting the Vladdie horde outside.

It’s me. Lance took a step inside, hands out to search the area. Where are you?

B-back here, Lilith cried. What’s happening? Why are the lights out?

I don’t know. Lance winced as he dropped to his good knee, held his arms out. Bring the kids over here. We need to move right now.

Where are we going?

Up.

There’s a flashlight by the bed, Cass said from the door. I’ll find it while you get the kids.

Tiny fingers clutched at Lance’s hands, tracing their way up his arm. Dragon plowed into him at full speed, almost knocking him off balance. The boy hadn’t stopped crying since the gunfire had begun. Lance didn’t blame his son—he wanted to cry himself.

He scooped his little boy into his arms, shifting the toddler’s weight against his right shoulder. The knife wound over Lance’s clavicle howled. The scab forming had pulled open.

Finn pressed against his chest, burying his face in Lance’s filthy, blood-soaked shirt. He cried as well, but less forcefully. Feeling the boy sobbing against him twisted Lance’s insides. The kid’s father was dead in the lobby.

How would they explain that to a two-year-old?

Would Finn understand?

Lance’s throat constricted as he thought about Emmett.

He pushed his emotions aside as best he could, refocused. They would deal with Emmett’s death later.

Lance took Finn in his left arm, lifted both kids off the floor. It was a struggle. His mangled knee refused to hold much of their weight, forcing him to support them with one leg.

Lilith? he called into the dark. I need you to stay right behind me, okay?

He barely heard her response above the pandemonium happening outside their door. It sounded as if she’d given him an affirmative, but he couldn’t be sure. He was about to repeat his question when Eifort spoke from behind him. Where’s Finn?

I’ve got him. Lance moved closer to the door, being careful not to bounce the children off anything hard. I’ll carry the kids while you shoot anything that gets close.

Don’t you lose him. Eifort’s voice cracked. He’s all I have left.

I won’t.

Got the flashlight. Cass turned it on, the beam pointing straight into Lance’s face.

Lance squeezed his eyes shut, turned around. The kids must have taken the light blast, too, because their crying intensified. Between the bleating Vladdies, wailing children, and fearful survivors, Lance wondered if he were on the verge of suffering hearing loss.

Sorry. Cass angled the cone of light to the floor. Is this all we have in here? One goddamn flashlight?

It’ll do for now. Lance could finally see Lilith.

She cowered on the floor behind the bed, hands unconsciously protecting her pregnant belly. Her face was a swollen mess, her blonde hair hanging in clumps across her forehead and cheeks. When Lance held her gaze, told her he’d keep her safe, she finally pulled herself up, wobbling a bit on unsure legs.

We have to stick together, Lance said. No matter what.

Cass led them back to the common area, then stopped in front of Brandon, who was searching the faces of the people around him. We need more light.

Everyone should have a flashlight and LED lantern in their rooms. Brandon kept glancing around, not meeting her eyes. Where’s Charlie? Has anyone seen her?

Paul stood beside the kid, looking over the rows of destroyed cubicles. Liz? You in here?

Several people slowly lifted their heads above the cubicle walls now that the shooting had stopped. There weren’t nearly as many as Lance had hoped. With any luck, there would be others on different floors.

Bodies were strewn all over the place.

Lance didn’t know how many people lived in The Light, but they’d suffered huge losses at the hands of the Bandits. Catastrophic losses. As he took in fearful glances from a handful of men and women, Lance understood that their settlement might not recover.

Even if they somehow survived the night, which was seeming less likely by the second, he wondered how many people would walk away in the morning. The Light had been compromised—perhaps forever. If they managed to get the electricity back on, it might keep a few people around, but he figured most would leave.

His family might join them.

Staying in a city had seemed idiotic when they’d agreed to settle there. They all feared how many Vladdies haunted Baltimore. Now those fears had become reality.

Everyone grab the lanterns and flashlights from your rooms, Lance hollered. We’re getting off this floor right now.

Cass had already gone back to their room, disappeared through the door. She returned as he finished his orders, holding a small LED lantern.

Who put you in charge? a middle-aged man with a long scar running down his cheek asked. He stepped out of a bedroom to the left, a shotgun in one hand, a long, black flashlight in the other. He was short and squat, standing less than five and a half feet tall.

No one. Listen to me or don’t. Lance shifted the kids in his arms. But staying here is a death sentence.

The man didn’t seem convinced. Where’s Emily Snow?

Everyone glanced at each other.

Haven’t seen her. Brandon shrugged. I have to find Charlie. Where are you guys going? I’ll meet you there.

Up. Lance nodded at the stairwell. Is the battery backup system salvageable?

I don’t know. I found Fred’s body in there, and then Bill jumped me two seconds later. I didn’t see anything broken, but I didn’t have time to look around either.

Hold on now. The short guy stepped in front of Brandon. Did you say you found Fred’s body? Fred is dead?

Bill killed him. Brandon couldn’t hold the man’s stare. Shot him.

Who the fuck is Bill?

We don’t have time for this. Lance started for the stairs. We can sort everything out when we’re in a safer place. Kid, meet us at the battery backups.

Got it. Brandon ran ahead, vaulting over bodies before disappearing through the door.

We’re fucked, the guy said. If Fred is dead, we’re all good and fucked. Emily’s the one in charge, but Fred runs this place. If he’s—

What’s your name? Lance asked as he limped past the man.

Keith.

Okay, Keith. I need you to calm down and come with us. We’ll get through this.

Why should I listen to you? I don’t know you.

Cass stepped in front of the short guy. See those kids, asshole? We’re fighting for them. You can come with us and help, or you can shut your mouth and stay out of the way. I don’t care which, but you need to make a decision right now.

She got in his face, standing a bit taller than him. Her lip curled in a sneer as she stared him down. He glared back, but stayed quiet for a few seconds as he took her in. After an uncomfortable pause that stretched entirely too long, he pursed his lips, bobbed his head.

I like her, he said. I’ll come with you.

Lance wanted to scream because they were wasting precious seconds. The Vladdies were coming, and every moment they spent bickering made their situation worse. Instead, he stayed quiet and limped on, not wanting to exacerbate the situation.

"Liz, Paul shouted again. Where are you, babe?"

Lance felt sorry for him, wanted to help search for his ex-wife, but didn’t dare do anything that would further endanger the kids. Maybe he could lend a hand canvasing the building after he got the children stashed away on the top floor.

By the time Lance reached the door, the kids already felt heavier than when he’d picked them up. Climbing so many flights while carrying them seemed an impossibility. Even if he hadn’t taken an inordinate amount of damage earlier in the day, he doubted he could have carried them the entire way. Lance made it to the first landing and stopped, trying to catch his breath while he waited for the others to file in behind him.

Cass came in first, followed by Eifort and Lilith. Keith stood behind them, staying quiet as he watched the group. A handful of other survivors Lance didn’t know filed into the staircase. Some didn’t wait for orders or ideas before hauling ass up the steps.

The only light came from the flashlights swinging in their hands. Shadows danced off their faces, the walls. Their voices echoed up the center column of the stairwell.

Paul entered last, walking through the door backward, still shouting for Liz. He held in place for a moment before finally pulling the door closed, cutting off the howling of the vampires. An eerie silence hung in the air.

I can’t go up without her, Paul said.

Paul’s desperate expression pulled at Lance’s conscience. If Cass were missing, he’d feel the same way. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d climb those stairs without knowing she was safe.

We can find her after we get the lights back on. Lance shifted Finn’s weight again. The kid felt as if he’d gained thirty pounds already.

I can’t leave her. I won’t. Paul’s features hardened. I’ll meet you up there.

Cass stood two steps down from Lance. I’ll find her. You go up and get to work. You’re the only one who can fix the battery system.

But—

No buts. If you don’t get the lights on, we’re all dead. It won’t matter if you find Liz if you can’t defend her from the Vladdies.

Paul frowned, cocked his head to the side as he mulled it over. Fine. Check the second floor and the eighth. She likes—

I’ll go, Lance interrupted. Cass, you take the kids up to the top. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

No way, Cass said. I’m going.

It’s going to take you forever to get up the stairs with your back. If you don’t start now, you won’t make it. I can move faster. Lance eased Dragon down to the floor. He had to pry the kid’s tiny hands away from his neck. Take the boys. I’ll catch up as soon as I can.

Cass’ glare melted into a concerned grimace.

It was the look she gave him when he’d cornered her position, put her king in check. It didn’t happen all that often. He could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she tried to pick apart his idea.

We can’t keep splitting up, Cass finally said in a hushed tone.

You were going off by yourself to search for her ten seconds ago. Lance lowered Finn, watched as he ran to Eifort.

The boy threw his arms around one of her legs, squeezing it with all his might

She cradled him against her, rubbed his back.

It was different when I was going to do it. I don’t like the idea of your hobbled butt wandering around by yourself. Cass climbed the two stairs between him, grabbed Lance’s forearm. And don’t give me any more crap. Hurry back to us. We need you. Now more than ever.

I won’t be long. Lance glanced over his wife’s shoulder at Paul. Get a move on. We’re going to need all the light we can get. The bastards will be in the building soon.

Find my Liz, Paul said. You hear me?

I hear you. Lance started down the stairs.

Dadda, Dragon cried. Dadda!

Lance kept going, knowing he wouldn’t have the willpower to continue if he turned back to his son. The boy’s cries worsened as Lance rounded the next landing and disappeared down the stairwell.

2

Cass tried to hoist Dragon from the floor, but almost collapsed beside him in pain. A red-hot knife burned in her lower back, twisting deeper with each movement. She wanted to cry out, but feared it would only stoke her child’s panic further.

Dragon threw himself against her chest, wailing inconsolably.

I’ve got him. Paul scooped Dragon up against the boy’s protestations. Yinz gotta haul ass or we ain’t gonna make it.

The mouthy Keith took the lead, running up the stairs two at a time. A few others Cass didn’t recognize followed him, their healthy bodies ascending with ease. Their nimble movements made her jealous.

Give me your lanterns. Cass held her free hand out to Megan and Lilith.

Why? Lilith handed hers over.

I’m going to leave one every two flights. With the power off, the Vladdies only have three ways to get to us. They can climb the outside of the building, but that’ll be tough because of the sharpened metal beams welded to the walls. They could climb the elevator shaft. Cass took Megan’s lantern, too, struggling to juggle all three. Or they can take the stairs. If I leave some lanterns every few flights, maybe the light will slow them down. Or not, I don’t know.

The uncertainty drove Cass nuts.

She liked to be in control.

Strove for it in all circumstances.

Now she felt as if she stood on the bow of a sinking ship in the middle of the ocean. Their ankles had already submerged. The rest would soon follow. And she felt like there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

Cass shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She had to focus on what she could control. Right now, that meant putting lights in the stairwell. As screwed as her back was, she’d have to take a break every two or three flights, anyway. It wouldn’t cost her anything to set up a lantern during that downtime.

We’ll wait for you, Megan said.

Get the kids as high as you can before the Vladdies break in. I’ll catch up. Cass wasn’t sure what good getting them to the top floor would do. But putting as much distance between themselves and the infected would at least delay the inevitable fight.

Maybe it would buy them a little more time to get the lights on.

Maybe not.

Cass ground her teeth as she fought against the dread threatening to overwhelm her. She refused to let the kids see her in a state of panic.

Paul was already climbing the stairs when Lilith and Megan relented. Megan vaulted up the steps, keeping pace with Paul. Lilith cradled her stomach, her discomfort slowing her after just a few steps.

Cass followed them to the next floor. She leaned her rifle against the wall so she could inspect the lanterns. The entire outside was a hard, black plastic. And that was it. No buttons. No visible place where they would emit light.

Two thin handles stuck out of the top of each device.

And that was it.

No buttons were visible.

What the hell? Cass tried to twist it open.

Nothing.

Everyone was in a panicked rush to save their lives. Yet, there she stood, dumbfounded by a simple lantern. If she’d known she needed an engineering degree to turn the damn thing on, she would have left them behind.

She put one hand on the top and one on the bottom and pulled. The plastic case slid apart, revealing a four-inch piece of clear material. She kept pulling until the top portion clicked into place.

The LED illuminated, blinded her.

Cass almost dropped it as she yanked her head sideways, blinking away the flash bulbs bursting in her vision. It was much brighter than she’d expected, the cheaply made hunk of plastic providing a shit-ton of lumens.

Cass set it in the corner, away from the stairs so no one would kick it as they climbed, then stepped back. It lit up the entire landing, and half a flight in each direction. Deep shadows cut beneath the stairs.

She resumed her ascent, struggling to drag her back leg up each stair. Lance had been right—it would take her an inordinate amount of time to reach the top of the building. Giving Dragon to Paul was the right decision, but she hated the idea of her son being without either of his parents during such an insane moment.

The poor child was already in a full-blown meltdown. He needed one of his parents to console him. Even though she understood the necessity of it, she hated what they were doing.

Not that they had a choice.

Paul had refused to leave Liz behind.

That endangered them all.

Could she blame him, though?

If Lance were missing as a Vladdie horde descended upon them, she would do anything to find him. That Paul had agreed to work on the lights while Lance searched for his ex-wife was surprising. Cass couldn’t have done that. She’d have scoured the entire building, come hell or high water. Or Vladdie horde. Nothing would have kept her from hunting for Lance, consequences be damned.

The others extended their lead above her.

Cass listened to their bickering, the children’s wails.

She pushed on, hoping to keep pace as best she could.

Fatigue settled in less than two flights later. An impossibly long day full of running and shooting and beatings and death had finally caught up to her. Even the massive amounts of adrenaline coursing through her system couldn’t stymie the exhaustion.

Mounting each stair proved more difficult than the last.

Her back pleaded with her to give up.

Sweat flowed from every pore.

Her breathing grew ragged.

The long night ahead loomed.

Cass tried to refocus her attention, turn her thoughts to a defensive strategy. She considered their options if Paul couldn’t get the lights turned on. Could they hold the stairwell? Would a few dozen armed guards have a chance of defending the lobby? Her racing mind skidded to a halt.

She pictured Emmett lying on the floor inside the front door of the building. Without someone guarding the entrance, protecting the area from intruding Vladdies, the beasts would find him.

Drag him out of there.

She refused to think about what they would do to his body.

It was too horrible.

If her back would have cooperated even a little, she would have flown down the stairs to hide his body somewhere. She would have dragged him up every single stair in the fucking building if she had to. They’d already left Adam behind, and look at the horror it had caused them. Yet, there they were, abandoning Emmett.

Cass’ heart ached for him, for Megan.

She’d experienced a soul-destroying loss moments ago, yet she wasn’t able to mourn. They jumped from one calamity to the next, barely surviving each minute since they’d stepped foot in Baltimore. Now Megan had lost her husband, and she couldn’t take a second to grieve.

Pausing at another landing to deploy a lantern, Cass felt a scream clawing up her throat. She wanted to wail at nothing and everything, to gnash her teeth and cry her eyes out.

But she didn’t.

The others needed her strong, collected. If she fell apart, so would they. The boys didn’t need to see her in a meltdown either. Her strength would feed theirs.

A man bellowed from the bottom of the staircase.

The screech of the Vladdies echoed up.

Cass leaned over the railing, looking down several flights.

A man’s hand grabbed hold of the railing on the first floor, sliding up it as someone ascended the stairs. The man shouted something unintelligible. The panic in his voice got Cass moving. Though she couldn’t understand his words, his meaning rang through loud and clear.

The vampires had arrived.

3

Brandon found a dozen survivors on the third floor. They huddled together near the middle of an expansive room, circling the dead bodies of a few Bandits. Two held powerful flashlights, which illuminated much of the area. A short, athletic blonde named Kirsten spat on one of the dead. A slew of curses followed.

She was a scavenger for The Light. Brandon had talked with her several times over the past few months, but they weren’t close. He didn’t even know her last name. Sometimes, he avoided her because he thought she might have a bit of a crush on him, as weird as that seemed. Kirsten was at least five years older than he was.

The idea of an older girl liking him was confusing because the opposite sex had rarely paid attention to him before he and Charlie became a thing. But he felt fairly confident Kirsten had flirted with him during several of their conversations.

Charlie? Brandon called. Has anyone seen Charlie?

Most of the survivors didn’t pay him any attention. They tended to the wounded, mourned over the dead.

Brandon counted at least twenty deceased.

God, they’d lost so many so fast.

Please! I need to find my girlfriend! Brandon took a step inside, holding the door open behind him. He scanned the faces of the dead, but he didn’t see Charlie.

Haven’t seen her, B. Kirsten walked toward him. You know what happened to the rest of the Bandits?

They’re dead, Brandon said. But we have other problems.

You mean like the damn lights? We’re about to be demon food if the backups don’t kick on soon.

About that. Brandon relayed the problem with the electricity and the battery backup system.

Kirsten’s face blanched as she listened. Jesus.

We’re getting everyone up to the top floor. It should be easier to defend.

I can get these people up there, no problem. Kirsten glanced back at the others. But what about the wounded? Some of them are really hurt. I don’t think we can move them.

Brandon’s frown deepened. We have to get them up there somehow.

What about that doctor who came in a few days ago? Maybe he can patch a few of them up before we try to—

He… didn’t make it.

"Jesus. Kirsten pressed the heel of her hand against her temple. This is so screwed up."

I know. Look, do what you can, but get up top soon. We’re running out of time.

I’m on it. Good luck finding Charlie.

Thanks. Brandon didn’t wait for another response before leaving the floor, fleeing down another flight of stairs.

He tried to burst through the next door by slamming his shoulder into it. Instead, he rebounded off it, the collision hurting his chest. The re-opened wounds hadn’t stopped bleeding since he’d popped his stitches rappelling down the building.

The door had barely moved, sliding only a few inches inward.

Brandon pushed against it with all his might, moving it a bit more. He squeezed his head through the narrow space between the door and jamb, but couldn’t see anything in the darkness beyond. Angling his flashlight through the gap, he moved the beam of light around. Someone had jammed a series of chairs against the door, attempting to barricade it from the inside.

Leave us alone, a girl screamed from farther inside.

He would have recognized that voice anywhere. Charlie!

Brandon?

It’s me! Get this crap out of the way so I can come in.

The flashlight illuminated Charlie’s face as she rushed toward the door.

She grabbed a chair, tossed it aside. Brandon! I was so worried about you. These guys in here put these in front of the door when the lights went out. I tried to tell them that a few pieces of furniture wouldn’t slow down one demon, let alone an entire city of them, but they wouldn’t listen to me. And—

A lanky man with gray, shoulder-length hair behind Charlie cut her off. What are you doing? I told you not to move those for anyone!

Brandon relayed the story of the Bandits, the lights, and the demons for what felt like the tenth time. The words flew out of him at a pace that made them difficult to enunciate.

Bill’s dead? the man asked when Brandon finished. "That’s bad. Oh shit, that’s bad."

I know. Brandon watched as a few more people appeared behind the door, helping clear away the makeshift barricade. Two switched on flashlights. But we’re doing the best we can. We have someone who might be able to fix the backups. If we get that done, we’ll make it.

And if we can’t? Charlie asked.

Brandon didn’t respond.

Didn’t know what to say.

When they finally cleared the door, he pushed it open, opened his arms to hug Charlie.

She gasped when she took in his bloody appearance. What happened to you?

It’s been a long day. I’ll tell you about it later. Brandon threw his arms around her, not caring that he smeared blood all over her sweatshirt. It occurred to him that he probably smelled like a bag of buttholes, but that didn’t hold him back either.

When he released her, he shined his flashlight around the room. There weren’t any dead bodies on the floor, thankfully. The windows were intact, too. He noticed that the incoming demons weren’t nearly as loud in there as they’d been on Lance’s floor.

The handful of survivors were all armed with guns and lights.

They were shaken, fearful.

Brandon stood before them, wondering how he’d somehow become Paul Revere of The Light, racing around the building, warning everyone of an impending siege. He viewed himself as a dumb teenager who played video games and looked at dirty magazines he found in convenience stores. No one should ever listen to anything he said, let alone when their lives depended on it.

They stood in a semi-circle around him, waiting for orders or guidance or reassurance that everything would work out. Or maybe they were just afraid of what was coming. He didn’t know what to say to encourage them.

Uhh. Brandon gestured to the door. We should hurry before—

Something thumped against a window. Brandon cut his flashlight in that direction, his knees bending instinctually so he could flee. The cone of light reflected off the glass, obscuring the outside.

Another blow struck the window, bowing the glass inward.

Run! Brandon turned, saw the others were already several steps ahead.

Charlie yanked on his arm, pulling him to the door. Their flashlights danced across the floor, swinging in wild arcs with each stride they took. Behind them, another slam rocked the window, harder this time.

The glass cracked.

Charlie ran through the door, still dragging Brandon behind her. The others were already taking the stairs, not bothering to check on the trailing teenagers. Brandon stopped inside the doorframe, glanced back.

A demon leaped through the window, shattering the glass.

The monstrosity landed on all fours, bare feet crunching the broken glass on the floor.

Muscles rippled under its pale skin as it tensed under the beam of Brandon’s light.

It bellowed at the ceiling.

Others outside answered its call.

Brandon slammed the door shut, then sprinted