Invasion: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Novel (Sympatico Syndrome Book 3) Read online

  “Good.” She planted a kiss on his forehead, her lips searing like a branding iron against his skin—but in the best possible way.

  His dad stuck a few more pieces of wood into the stove then brushed his hands against each other, his head cocked. “What do you mean? I just said we’d get back to the mainland.”

  Sophie turned from Hunter. “But what about food and water? If the ice is unsafe to cross, how will we keep them fed and watered? Or the garage clean?”

  Mike and Steve exchanged a look, with Mike nodding as if they’d come to some agreement. Steve said, “We owe you all for helping us out. We’d be happy to head to the mainland and stay there with the horses until the ice melts and you all can come back by boat.”

  His dad glanced at Hunter, then back to Steve and Mike. “Mike saved Hunter, so any debt you guys felt you owed is paid in full as far as I’m concerned.” He turned his gaze to the rest of the group. “If no one objects…” he paused, allowing anyone to voice dissent, but everyone shook their head or shrugged that they had no objections, and so he continued, “I’d welcome any help you could give us with the horses. I’m not sure what plan they’ll play in our future, but we can’t leave them here on the island.”

  Sophie smiled at his dad. “Thanks for thinking of the horses, Cole. They mean a lot to me.”

  The horses meant a lot to him, too. They had carried Hunter and Sophie safely across a few hundred miles on their journey to the island.

  Steve cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Cole.”

  His dad took a cup of hot tea from Elly. “Thanks.” He blew on it before he took a sip. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Our buddies are dead set on heading to Florida but we’re not sure we want to go with them.”

  Hunter blinked and struggled to straighten in the recliner. He definitely didn’t want to miss this.

  “No? How come?” His dad sounded cautious but curious. He hid it well as he sipped his tea but Hunter was used to his nuances.

  Steve’s mouth quirked to the side as he appeared to be searching for words. “Our group is great. Don’t get me wrong. Fun bunch of guys. But that’s just it. They’re acting like this whole thing is a big joke. I went back to check in the other day to see how everyone is doing since it’d been a few days since you’d been there. Do you know they ended up burning down a couple of houses? Just for the fun of it.”

  Hunter’s jaw thawed enough for him to speak. “Was that at the house we went to? It had a nice fireplace but maybe the fire got out of control when they were cooking over it.”

  Steve shrugged. “That’s what I thought, but the way they were talking, it was clear they were just goofing around. Now, I know the houses’ occupants are long gone, so it wasn’t the loss of the buildings that bothers me, but their…attitude? Since the pandemic first hit, we were all treating it like a great extended fishing trip. We’re all a bunch of bachelors since the guys who had families left early” He stopped, clearing his throat. “We never saw them again.”

  His dad rubbed his chin in thought. “So…what are you saying?”

  Mike leaned forward. “What Steve is trying to say is that we’re wondering if we could stay with your group.” His gaze swept the room. “I know it hasn’t been long and we’ve been isolated this week or so, but you all have a great group. Lots of cooperation. We would rather be with you guys than with them. All they want to do is have fun and destroy stuff just because they can.”

  After including everyone in their group in a look, his dad said, “We aren’t even sure where or what we’re doing come spring. Maybe travel west?”

  Hunter struggled to stay awake, but the shivering had finally abated and despite his efforts, his eyes slid closed. Distantly he heard his dad say something about traveling west in the spring.

  Chapter Eight

  Hunter sliced through the deer’s hide, admiring the size of the buck he’d taken down. It was his third deer, including the one he’d killed in the fall, but this one was, by far, the biggest. He didn’t even mind the latest cold snap so much anymore—not when it meant fresh meat for everyone.

  The animal had wandered to the island over the ice and he wondered if the howls of a pack of dogs he’d heard earlier in the morning had been the reason for the buck’s flight from the mainland.

  Hungry and bold, a pack had come up to the house the night before, but Buddy had sounded the alarm before they were too close, and Hunter and his dad had fired a few rounds over the dogs’ heads, scaring the pack off. For now.

  In the first few months after the pandemic, dogs had wandered around but usually fled when approached. Hunter guessed that people in the final throes of the virus had frightened the animals and now they were shy around humans.

  Early on, food had been plentiful for them, what with all of the deceased lying about. Hunter suppressed a shudder as he recalled stumbling upon a scene of a pack of dogs devouring human remains last summer. He didn’t think he’d ever look at dogs quite the same way again—except for Buddy, of course, who was still just as sweet and loyal as ever. Most days, Buddy accompanied him, but with the wild dogs so close, Hunter had opted to leave him in the house while he went out checking snares he had set on the far side of the island. He got the idea for snares from a book he’d taken from the library in the fall, and though it had taken a bit of trial and error, he had finally managed snare a few rabbits, one possum, and a couple of squirrels. All of them ended up in the stew pot.

  Today’s haul was had only been one rabbit, and after resetting the snares, he’d been returning to the house when he spotted the tracks and followed them into a clearing. He’d taken down the buck with a swift arrow right behind the shoulder. The deer had taken one leap forward before collapsing.

  After field dressing the deer, he tied the rabbit to his belt with a bit of cord. As he secured it, he marveled at how different his life had become. Last year at this time, he was worrying about preparing for mid-terms. His pockets would have contained a wallet, car keys, and his cellphone. Now, he had none of those on him. Instead, he carried a hunting knife in a sheath on his belt and in addition, a multi-tool pocketknife. No wallet. No car keys. No cellphone.

  On his left side, he had a pouch hanging from his belt that held matches, a lighter, fishing line, a few hooks, two needles, a few different weights of thread, cord, and a few plastic garbage bags, and a roll of white medical silk tape.

  The tape had several uses. It was strong enough to tape objects together, but could also be used to butterfly a wound together. Jenna had shown them all how to do it. If he had to, he could rip off the bottom of his t-shirt to use as a bandage. After his dad had been shot, Hunter listened to all of Jenna’s instruction with far more attention than he had ever paid to his economics instructor.

  He drew a deep breath as he looked down at the gutted deer. Now came the hard part. He had to carry the buck back to the house. If it was a straight shot, it was about three quarters of a mile, but a wetland on this side of the island created a bog and he didn’t want to risk breaking an ankle on a slippery tuft of slough grass hidden beneath a crusty layer of snow. That meant he either had to go out onto the ice and circle around the way he had come, or head to the interior of the island. He looked at the antlers and envisioned those catching on every bush and sapling so he opted for the ice. It would be colder out there with the wind whipping down from the north and even though the ice looked flat, there were uneven patches hidden beneath the snow. And his dunking a few days ago was still fresh in his mind and he’d Damn, he couldn’t wait for spring.

  He readied the buck for the journey by creating a backpack of sorts of the carcass. It didn’t take long to cut partway through the knee joint in each foreleg, leaving a strip of skin and tendon, then slicing through the hind legs between the hamstring and bone just above the hocks. He then sat down, set his bow and arrows aside, and pulled the forelegs over his shoulders then tucked them into the slits he’d cut on the back legs. He
turned the legs, locking the joints of front and back legs together. The front legs formed the straps like he’d have on a backpack. He grabbed his bow and arrows, tossed the strap for the quiver over one shoulder and carried his bow in his left hand. The hard part was standing and he grunted as he pushed up, steadied his load, and headed out to the ice.

  At a gut level, the set-up made him nervous since he now basically looked like a two legged buck, with the deer’s head lolling back, but nobody was around and he’d let everyone know he had gone to check his traps.

  He hiked the deer higher and headed for the ice. The buck was heavy, well over one-hundred and fifty pounds, but with the weight distributed over his shoulders, he knew he could get it back to the house even if it took him a little longer. The exertion helped ward off the cold and he worried about sweating through his layers of clothing. He paused when he reached the ice and uncapped his water bottle, taking a swig as he rested for a minute. There was no way he could have been able to do this a year ago. He didn’t have the stamina, not to mention he’d have probably been shot by some other hunter.

  He couldn’t wait to show his dad the buck. The meat was always welcome, and he was proud he’d done it without wasting ammunition. While they still had plenty, it wasn’t like they could just run out to the local Dick’s Sporting Goods and buy more.

  He wondered if Sean and his dad were still fishing. They had left an hour or so before he had set out. Since his fall through the ice, he’d stuck to his snares but felt guilty about it. Why should others take the risk instead of him? It made him work even harder to make his snares the best that he could. If only they had thought to get traps from some place. There had to have been a local store to get them from, but Joe had never trapped before and didn’t know any more than the rest of them.

  At least the ice was solid once again. The brief thaw that had caused his breakthrough had given way to a cold snap, but even so, he didn’t like being on the ice any longer than necessary so he stuck as close to the shore as possible. If he hit a thin patch and broke through, he’d be on his own.

  The crunch of the snow and ice beneath his feet and his panting as he hiked with his burden filled his ears. The southern tip of the island was close on his left and a few steps more and he’d be within site of the house and the beach. The thought of a warm stove, a hot drink, and something to eat spurred him on.

  Just as he pivoted east, he heard a noise louder than his own breathing and footsteps. It took him a few seconds before he realized what the familiar sound was. He turned and looked north up the lake, scanning the air, not believing his ears at first. It wasn’t until he saw it, first a speck in the distance, and then growing larger, that he believed his eyes. A helicopter—and it was heading right towards the island.

  It was a large helicopter, possibly military, and he started to wave, but then pulled his hand down. Better to watch and see what they did before bringing attention to himself. He dropped to a crouch and hoped he really did look like a deer as he hurried up the beach, yanking at the deer’s hind legs to separate them from the front hooves. When he came to the dry dock with the pontoon boat up on blocks, he dumped the deer and shoved it under the pontoon along with his bow and arrows. They were useless against anyone in a helicopter. What he needed was a rifle.

  He was out of sight of the helicopter for now, but from the whump of the rotors, it would appear any second now. He raced for the cover of a stand of pines fifty feet from the house, torn between sounding a warning and staying to see where the helicopter went. As he debated, Piper and Sophie opened the door and stepped out on the deck.

  Piper spotted him first. “Hunter? Do you hear that?”

  “Yeah. I saw it coming from the north.” He started to say it looked like a military helicopter, but his words were drowned out by the helicopter as it flew low over the island. Hunter strained to see into the cockpit, but it was impossible from his angle. He waved to Piper and Sophie to return to the house. As he did, Jenna stuck her head out too. They were exposed on the deck.

  “Get back!”

  They retreated, but they still watched through the screen. As the helicopter moved out over the bay, he called out, “Where’s my dad and Sean?”

  “Still out on the lake fishing!” Sophie pointed southeast.

  The helicopter looked to be turning east. He didn’t know if it was returning, but he felt vulnerable and raced to the deck, took the three steps up in one bound and dashed into the house to get a rifle only to find both were gone. Damn. Well, maybe that was a good thing. That meant his dad or Sean probably had them. He still had semi-automatic rifle. They didn’t use it for hunting but they had all been shown how to use the weapon. He grabbed it, and the shotgun, along with ammo for each. The handguns were there too, but he couldn’t carry it all. Piper, Jake and Joe could handle those. Jenna could handle the shotgun. He’d take the semi-automatic.

  Luke and Zoe peered at him from the kitchen, their eyes huge. Hunter pointed at them. “I need for you guys to get your coats and boots on and hide in the closet by the backdoor. If you hear me yell for you to run, go out the back door and run up to hickory grove. Got it?”

  Luke’s eye grew huge as he nodded and took Zoe’s hand.

  Hunter put a hand on Luke’s head and dropped to one knee. “It’ll be okay. Just Hide there until someone comes to get you.” He almost let it go at that, but what if something did happen? He added, “I don’t think it’ll come to this, but if nobody comes, head for the mainland and the little barn.” It would keep them warm and there was a little food there. It was the best Hunter could do.

  Luke had been to the grove plenty of times and he didn’t ask questions, just took Zoe by the hand and helped her get her boots on.

  As he handed Piper and Sophie a handgun and ammunition, he asked Jenna to go stay with the kids.

  “I’m not going to hide, Hunter. I’m a good shot and I don’t want to leave Piper and Sean. Why doesn’t Sophie go with them?”

  Hunter wanted nothing more than to have Sophie out of possible harm’s way, but she was starting to have trouble moving quickly. At about six months along, her balance in the snow was off. The kids needed someone who could get them quickly to safety.

  Before Hunter could reply, Sophie did. “You’re way faster than me right now, Jenna. If the kids need to run, I’ll slow them down.”

  Piper nodded. “She has a point, Mom.” She took a gun, loaded it like she’d been doing it her whole life. “I’m sure we’re over-reacting anyway.”

  Hunter handed her the shotgun. “Take this too.” When it looked like she was going to protest, he shook his head. “We have our other weapons. You may need this.” He didn’t say she was the kids last line of defense, but when he met her eyes, he knew she’d already come to that realization as she took the shotgun from him.

  Jenna had her own handgun but put it in her jacket pocket as she grabbed a few of their homemade granola bars from the pantry, shoving them in her other jacket pocket. It was good thinking. “Okay, we’ll be hiding in the hickory groves if we hear you holler, Hunter.” Jenna ushered the kids down the hallway as Luke grabbed his and Zoe’s jacket from the hooks.

  Sophie stayed in the house, but she’d gathered more ammo than Hunter had been able to carry, and grabbed a spare backpack by the door a dumped it in, handing Hunter the bag.

  Hunter heard the helicopter returning for another pass. It was possible they were friendly, but until he knew for sure, he wasn’t going to let his guard down.

  He pointed to the pines and Piper nodded and followed him out. The helicopter looked to be hovering near where his dad and Sean would be fishing. “Where are the other men?”

  “Remember they took the SUV to the mainland to search for grain for the animals?”

  “Shit. Yeah. I hope they aren’t crossing back right now.”

  “They only left about an hour ago. They should still be on shore. Joe’s smart. He’ll watch but not let anyone show themselves.” Piper bit her lip
. “I should run inside and get the binoculars.”

  “Good idea. They look like they’re turning so now’s your chance.” Hunter kept an anxious eye on the helicopter as it angled in a wide arc. Was it coming back or just heading east over the lake? Maybe they’re heading to Michigan?

  Piper darted back, two pairs of binoculars in her hands. She gave one to Hunter.

  He nodded. “I hate that our dads are out there.” Keeping beneath the cover of the broad pines, Hunter worked his way to where he could see past the changing rooms they’d converted into a stable. From there, he had a clear view of the ice southeast of the island. He scanned the ice, spotting what he thought was fishing gear out on the ice.

  “Piper, do those dark things on the ice look like poles and gear? They aren’t near the ice huts though.”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  The helicopter made a wide arc and head back towards the island. “It’s coming back!”

  “Shit! Hunter! What do we do?”

  “I’m going down by the changing house. I can cover the ice with the shotgun.”

  “And do what?”

  “Try to keep anyone from coming up to the house. Why don’t you go back with your mom, Sophie and the kids?”

  “No. My mom and Sophie will be fine with them. I think we should stay in pairs.”

  Hunter shrugged. “True. Okay, but can you stay here in case the get by me?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but darted over to the converted stable, hearing the soft wicker of one of the horses. Buddy was in the house barking his head off and Hunter knew there was no way they’d be able to pretend that the island was deserted. The smell of wood smoke alone would give them away.

  Cole paused when he reached the cover of a stand of birch trees along the rocky eastern shore of the island. The trees were bare and only the trunks hid him, but a dozen yards away, maples and pines offered better coverage. “Hurry, Sean!”