novelraw Chapter 444: Fresh Is Best
Chapter 444: Fresh Is Best
Sera’s creature leaned in closer to her senses, wanting to know more about the drag marks and what it could possibly mean. I smell fear. Old, but still clinging. They fed it to the ground.
She followed the drag marks with her eyes. They ran from the truck bed, across the ditch, and through a break in the barbed wire fence. Beyond that, the field stretched wide and open toward a distant cluster of structures.
Silos. Trailers. A large barn.
Another homestead.
She felt her interest sharpen. "Ooh," she murmured. "That looks fun."
Lachlan glanced in the same direction. "That’s a long way to haul people," he said. "Whatever dragged them had a reason."
"Storage," Alexei said. "Or containment."
"Or play," Aerenyx added.
Her creature pressed close, pleased. Predators. This is predator work. Organized. Intentional.
Sera turned her head back toward the abandoned truck. Dried blood clung in thick patches to the edge of the bed. The pattern wasn’t explosive. It was smeared. Hands had gripped. Skin had scraped. A few dark spots stained the dirt where something had dripped.
Inside the cab, she saw the rest.
A streak of old blood along the passenger side window. Finger marks on the glass. A bottle on the floor. A crumpled hat on the torn leather seat. And on the dusty dashboard, carved with a fingertip that had trembled from exertion: HELP US.
Her creature read it and rolled with amusement. They begged the truck. They did not beg us. They did not know we were coming.
"I want to see where they ended up," Sera said.
Zubair looked from the field back to her. "On foot or in the truck?"
She glanced at the drag marks again. The trail cut a straight line across the field. No attempt to hide it. No attempt to cover up the violence. That felt rude.
"Let’s go by truck first," she decided. "Walking is boring."
Zubair nodded his head, turned, and climbed back behind the wheel. Luci hopped down from the bed, sniffed the drag path, and then leaped up again when the engine rumbled to life.
They followed the trail off the road and into the field.
The truck jostled over uneven ground. Dirt kicked up in thick plumes and stuck to the sides. The sun hung high above them, heavy and unmoving. The distant homestead grew larger with each passing minute.
Fences appeared ahead, built from whatever the owners had managed to scavenge: rusted car doors, sheets of corrugated metal, broken wire, wooden planks. The walls formed a rough perimeter around a cluster of buildings.
A watchtower rose at one corner, made from stacked lumber and metal beams that didn’t quite line up. A man stood on it, rifle in hand, eyes trained on their approaching truck.
Sera leaned forward slightly and watched him watch them.
Her creature hummed. He is afraid. He will aim at us instead of what he should be afraid of.
Zubair brought their truck to a stop before the first layer of fence.
Three men stepped out from behind a slab of welded-together scrap metal that served as a gate. Two carried rifles. One had a shotgun resting along his forearm.
Their clothes were stained with dust and sweat, none of them wearing any type of uniform unless jeans and a flannel shirt counted as one. Bandanas hung around their necks as they scanned everything, their eyes missing nothing.
The man in front had a scar running from his jaw down under his shirt collar. He lifted his chin when he saw Sera in the passenger seat.
"This road is closed," he said.
His voice carried effort. He wasn’t just trying to sound authoritative. He was trying to sound in control.
Sera opened her door and swung her feet down to the ground.
Her creature rose with interest, pushing warm pressure up her spine. He lies. The road still exists. He does not own it.
She stood, closed the door with a calm push, and studied him. "I’ll tell you the same thing we told the last guys back there. We’re driving through," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I want to see what’s ahead."
Lachlan got out behind her and leaned against the truck bed.
He didn’t reach for his weapons, but his hand hovered close to where they were. Aerenyx slid out of the other side and folded his arms loosely. Alexei stepped down last, quiet and still, posture easy but eyes sharp.
The man with the scar shifted his stance. "You turn that truck around," he said. "You go back the way you came. You didn’t see anything here."
Sera tilted her head to the side. The barn beyond the fences stood tall and blocked, its big doors lashed shut with thick chains. Even from a distance, she could hear faint sounds under the wind.
Something moved in there.
Her creature sharpened. Movement. Wet sounds. Something hitting wood. There is food inside. Or something that thinks it is food.
She smiled.
"I heard screaming," she said. "I want to see who is doing it."
The man flinched.
The shorter of the rifle-carriers shifted his weight and spat into the dirt. "Ain’t any of your business " he muttered. "This is our land. Our problem."
"A very loud problem," Aerenyx observed. His eyes had gone slightly darker, his attention fixed on the barn. "It made the boards vibrate. It is not small."
"We’ve got it contained," the scarred man snapped. "You don’t need to—"
A scream cut him off.
High. Sharp. And very much human.
It carried easily across the field from the direction of the barn. The sound had strain in it, and something like phlegm. Someone had been screaming for a while.
Sera’s creature shivered, delighted. There it is. They are still alive. Good. Fresh is best.
Lachlan’s shoulders went tight. "That didn’t sound contained," he said.
The lookout in the tower swore and turned his rifle away from their truck. He aimed past them, toward the barn. His finger tightened on the trigger, then eased off. He couldn’t see a target. Not from there.
The scarred man swore under his breath. "Damn it," he muttered. "We told them to shoot it earlier."
Zubair stepped up until he stood just to Sera’s right. "What is in your barn?" he asked, his eye narrowing on the man in front of him.