Unbound

Chapter 12

The van smelled like cancer.

Hayden ended up just busting out the back windows, hoping that would clear some of the exhaust filling the van. It hardly helped. The one thing it did help with, was it made it almost impossible to hear anything his dad said from up in the passenger seat.

Pastor Tim, last Hayden heard, was telling Jesus about his jet, and about how the church had blessed him with it. For his part, Jesus just stared out of the dark tinted window into the empty night. Normally there would be other traffic, but tonight the road was more or less empty. Scarily empty.

Hayden sat on an upturned bucket, his back to the rear doors of the van, sucking in as much fresh air as he could. Zareen had her head propped up on her pack and appeared to be asleep. Or she was pretending so his dad wouldn't talk to her.

His dad. The man had been through hell tonight. Beaten, shocked, and beaten some more. His God had come to life in all his leather-skirt-wearing-glory, only to look on the verge of killing him each time Pastor Tim mentioned his 'savior.'

"It's not the Oprah jet," his dad was yelling back at Jesus, "but I couldn't expect too much from my congregation, you know?" For the most part, his dad's 'flock' was poor, but still they gave him ten percent of whatever they made. It made Hayden sick sometimes, to know where some of the poorer members of their congregation lived, and then to think of his gated estate. He'd put off preaching for a while, as long as he could, because he hated the thought of his words being used to garner more money for his dad's ministry. Until tonight, that is.

Thankfully, the zombie apocalypse had interrupted his sermon.

Hayden breathed a sigh and studied the floor. The van must have been used to haul around construction equipment before they stole it. Painting tools, a couple of hammers, even a chisel bounced around on the dirty floor. One of the hammers looked brand new. It had a bright red handle with a black rubber grip, and a solid face, head, and claw that looked made all of one piece. A fancy hammer.

I just analyzed a hammer, Hayden thought. He bent and picked it up, hefting it in his hand. It was heavy, heavier than it looked.

Zareen gasped and jerked up. Hayden sat up quickly, staring at her as she turned around and met his concerned gaze. Her eyes were wide, like twin pools of molten emerald. Her lips parted as if she were about to speak, but whatever she was going to say was lost in the sound of the doors behind Hayden being ripped off.

He started to tip backwards—he'd been leaning against the doors, on his bucket—when something hard gripped his shoulders. Claws bit through his shirt and into his flesh and he cried out, just as those rough hands jerked him out of the van.

He tried to twist, pull away, but the hands held him fast. Wings beat the air behind him and he began gaining altitude. The van started to break hard below him, but a pickup truck, one he hadn't noticed earlier, slammed into its rear, shoving it forward.

"The missstresss will be pleasssed to sssee you," the creature behind him hissed out in its annoying tongue. What had they called it? A Vaig? They hadn't mentioned the fact that it could fly.

"Piss off!" Hayden shouted. Not his finest moment.

The ground was growing further away, though they were still only maybe ten feet up. Would paintballs do any good against these things? He tried to reach down to one of the guns on his hips, but the pain was too much. It felt like the claws of the creature were going to rip his shoulders out, literally.

And then he felt it. He still gripped the hammer in his right hand.

Bracing himself as best he could, he swung the hammer up at his shoulder. It smashed into the Vaig's hand and the creature cried out, but didn't let go of him. Hayden cried out as well, shocking pain exploding in his body. The Vaig cursed and spit, right onto the top of Hayden's head.