She was heading east, away from The Temple and moving towards the lake.
I adjusted my path, turning slightly so that I could intercept her, leaping off of the path and into the trees as I ran on.
Thorns and brambles snagged at my sweatpants, one of them catching the bottom of my T-shirt and ripping it as it scored a line of blood across my stomach, but I didn’t slow.
I gripped my phone so tightly that I was afraid I might crack it, my teeth clenching as I checked the dot marking her location again and again.
I was getting closer. Three hundred meters, two hundred, one…
I stumbled to a halt near a cluster of boulders between the trees and spun around as I searched for her.
It was eerily quiet in the woods, only the distant shouts of the looters at The Temple breaking the silence at all.
“Tatum?” I called, not too loud but loud enough for her to hear if she was anywhere near me.
There was no reply and my heart pounded as I fought to catch my breath, straining my eyes in the moonlight that filtered down through the trees as I tried to spot her.
“Tatum?” Louder this time, but she still didn’t reply and I fought really fucking hard not to give in to the panic that rose in me.
I glanced down at my cellphone and my heart leapt as the dot marking her location was showing further away from me again. But that didn’t make sense. There was no way she could have passed me out here without me seeing her. No way.
Unless…
I looked down at the ground beneath my feet, remembering the time I’d found the old entrance to the catacombs beneath the church which opened out down by Sycamore Beach. The tunnels burrowed all over this side of the hill. I’d thought that I might be able to sneak into The Temple to search through Saint’s things by using them to get into the old church, but of course he had it gated off and locked up half way through the tunnels. But if my theory was correct, it looked like Tatum had found a way into them from the church end.
I turned and dove into the trees again, racing for the beach as anxiety gnawed at me.
Tatum had been afraid for her life when she’d called me. She’d been scared of those fuckers and begged me to come. I wanted to believe she’d managed to escape them when she’d run down into the crypts, but I couldn’t be sure. And if there was even the slightest chance that she was still in trouble then I was going to get to her come hell or high water.
I tore through the trees, racing down the hill towards the lake where the moonlight glimmered off of the deep water and lured me closer.
The further I got, the thinner the woodland became until I spilled out onto the sandy beach.
The soft sand sank beneath my sneakers, fighting to slow me down as I turned north, racing towards the rocky outcrop at the end of the beach where the cave which led into the catacombs was hidden.
The water was still and ominous to my right, the sky bright and clear with the moon hanging like a fat orb low to the horizon. It would have been beautiful if the scent of blood hadn’t been hanging thickly in the air.
I glanced at my phone once more just before I reached the cave entrance, seeing the dot marking Tatum’s position somewhere off to my left. The catacombs were filled with endless tunnels and crypts and it was no wonder I’d beaten her to this point. She was so close now, but I wasn’t going to slow until I reached her. Wasn’t going to relax until I was sure she was okay.
I hesitated at the mouth of the cave, glancing between the ancient Native American carvings which were almost entirely hidden beneath the more modern catholic symbols. Newer still than those was a sign painted onto the rock wall in what looked suspiciously like dried blood.
Turn back now or invoke the wrath of the Night Keepers.
You have been warned.
Beneath the message they’d painted the four Night Keeper arrows too and it pissed me off that I even recognised the stupid symbols they used to mark themselves out.
A scream echoed to me from the darkness and my breath caught as I recognised Tatum’s voice calling to me from deep inside the caves.
It was clear that Tatum was somewhere within these tunnels and not even a warning from the devil himself would have made me turn back now. So the Night Keepers were going to come for me if I crossed their threshold were they? Well, I’d like to see them try.
My pulse was thrashing to the thick roar of some heavy metal which was currently taking place entirely within my own head.
My entire existence had narrowed down to three things. One: the tightness of my grip on the bat I held between my fists. Two: the power in my muscles as I swung that motherfucker like there was no tomorrow and I really was living in my own personal zombie apocalypse. And three: the way my soul sang with every drop of blood I spilled and every thieving asshole I knocked to the dirt screaming beneath me.
Blake and Saint were right behind me as we carved a path towards The Temple and we hunted down each and every one of the fuckers who were already spilling back out of our home with their arms full of toilet paper.
If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I’d be breaking bones over packs of stuff intended for wiping your ass, I’d have laughed myself shitless. Turns out, fate had a sense of humour after all.
The three of us fought savagely as we drew closer and closer to the church, the inside of which had never before been seen by another soul. Saint was practically busting a blood vessel at the thought of so many unwashed commoners tearing through his things and I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned about him dropping dead from a heart attack or suddenly sprouting horns and a forked tongue.
As the only one of us with a weapon and our trio’s self-appointed attack dog, I took the lead but not by much. They had to stay behind me anyway, keeping away from the arc of my baseball bat as I swung it with reckless abandon.
For the first time in my life, there was no leash on me at all. Nothing to keep me in check, no reason for me to hold back. Hell, every fucker in the world would be on my side in this. I was protecting my motherfucking home from trespassers. I was practically a superhero. Though with less morals and a fuck tonne more bloodlust. But still, Batman had nothing on me. For a start I had an actual bat. He couldn’t claim that shit. And I had to say as far as weapons went, this one was pretty damn epic.
We made it to the door of The Temple where it hung open and I bellowed a challenge as we burst inside.
The place had been ransacked, the fridge and kitchen cupboards hanging open with nothing left in them, the toilet paper throne scattered and broken, drawers, doors and boxes open and turned out. They’d even upended Saint’s fucking chair.
Saint roared in agony as he saw the state of his spotless home, charging past me as he leapt on a guy whose arms were full of toilet paper. He punched, kicked and even bit with the fury of a wild animal and I felt like I really was seeing a demon given flesh as I watched him for a moment.
The grin on my face couldn’t be dampened and Blake raced across the room towards the flagstone which concealed the safe, barrelling a guy over with a classic football tackle as he went.
I looked around to pick my own target and swung my bat at an asshole who was trying to steal my fucking guitar.
He leapt back, waving the guitar in front of him to keep me away as I stalked closer.
“People don’t steal from me and live to tell the tale,” I warned him in a dark voice.