Free Rise of the Huskers (The Raven Falconer Chronicles) by Dennis Larsen Page A

passenger window.  The human remain bounced but did not shatter the glass.  He tried again, mustering greater force against the thin protective barrier.
    In the driver’s seat, Hannah thrust the gear lever into reverse and gunned the engine.  The unexpected motion threw a few of the Huskers from the Jeep, but not all.  Ahead, she could see the car now moving around the sharp bend but then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped.  Hannah dropped the lever to ‘D’ and bolted forward, forcing the body of a lone Husker into a rear wheel well, bringing them to an abrupt halt.
    “What’s wrong?  Why aren’t we moving?” Bobi yelled, still ready to fire.
    “I don’t know!  There’s so many,” a near hysterical Hannah cried out.
    Bobi’s eyes suddenly caught and fixed the toothless Husker’s crazed stare.  For an instant, she was sure he saw or felt something beyond an insane urge but the image was fleeting as an explosion of brain and blood blasted him from her view.  A rifle’s report sounded again and the Husker at Mick’s window met the same fate.  Shell after shell sounded above the echo of the girl’s screams, as Raven and Ziggy unloaded on the swarm of merciless beings.
    “Hannah, try it again.  They’re giving us a chance,” Mick urged her friend.
    Hannah alternated between the gears, rocking the obstacle from beneath them and ultimately spitting the corpse out from underneath the spinning tire.  From their vantage point, Ziggy and Raven could see they were free and jumped into their car and rolled ahead.  Finally demoralized like a pack of hyenas crushed by the brawn and superior savagery of a pride of lions, the Huskers retreated, harvesting their dead and dying for later consumption.
    In the squad car, an exhilarated but stone-faced Raven tried to catch her breath.  Her finger still shook on the trigger of the old rifle and a single tear ran down her face.  When they were in the clear Ziggy reached over and squeezed her knee, “You did well back there.  You going to be alright?”
    She did not respond to the touch or question.
    “Rave . . . Raven,” he said, more forcefully.
    “Ah . . . I’ve never . . . ”
    “I know.  It’s hard.  The first time is always the toughest, but you saved your friends and that’s what counts.”
    “Still doesn’t make . . . ” She stopped and thought for a time, lost and unable to believe how her life had changed in just a few short weeks.
    “I’ll make sure you’re protected tonight and then we can decide what to do with you.  The jail is the safest place in town and you can even have your own cell.  How does that sound?” he said, trying to lighten the mood and get her to open up.
    “That’ll be fine.  Ziggy, we owe you big time.  Thanks.”
    “Had to save somebody, might as well be the four of you.”
    The remainder of the drive was quiet in both vehicles.  The effects of the pandemic were truly more real and tangible than they had been before, and it tore at their hearts.  Raven and friends weaved their way through the narrow streets of Banff, fearful but relieved to see they were abandoned.  Once at the station, they unloaded and settled in for the night.  The generator hummed and the lights brought a sense of humanity and civilization back to the shell-shocked women.  Officer Nowicki did his best to calm and assure his guests but he could tell it was going to be a long night.
    On a bench, in the middle of town and not far from the station, a lone man sat staring at a blaze of lights coming from a single structure.  His plans – unsure, his needs – insatiable, and in his hand – the base of a hatchet, heavy and sharp: he bantered sketchy ideas to and fro, at last concluding to watch and wait.  Time was not a factor, not to a killer with soft, feminine flesh on his mind.

Chapter 7
    Narrow streets , generally crowded with bumper-to-bumper traffic, were bare.  Sidewalks accustomed to dense, endless throngs of