Hell Bent (Redneck Apocalypse Book 2) Read online

  HELL BENT

  Redneck Apocalypse Book 2

  eden Hudson

  Cover by Joshua Etteldorf

  Hell Bent is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s mind or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons or non-persons, living or dead or undead is entirely coincidental, but would be really cool.

  Copyright © eden Hudson 2015

  You guys know how I feel about piracy. Steal this book. Steal a few for your friends. If you think your grandma would like this book, steal a copy for her. All I ask is that you give me the credit for writing it. Also that you don’t be a dick and charge somebody else for something you got for free. And hey, if you—or your dear, sweet pirate grandma—end up liking it, let me know by leaving a review somewhere. That way I can continue writing books for you to steal.

  Table of Contents

  PART I: BELIEVE THE LIE

  PART II:

  ALL LIES LEAD TO THE TRUTH

  PART III: RESIST OR SERVE

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  “A struggle for Heaven and Earth. Where there is one law: Fight or Die.

  And one rule: Resist or Serve.”

  ~ Alex Krycek

  PART I: BELIEVE THE LIE

  Tough

  I leaned back against the textured motel wall and stared at the dead guy. Some of the dead guy, anyway. His body was still hanging onto one arm and one leg. The missing leg was next to that dry, brownish streak on the room’s nasty-ass blue carpet. The severed arm was over by the bathroom door, leaking what was probably the last couple drops of his blood onto the tile.

  My heart beat a couple of times and my lungs started breathing on their own. Drinking off a living human can make it easier to seem alive for a while because the blood fed the crow magic. Wasn’t that what Tiffani said the other day? Back when I was still going to save Desty and live happily ever after with her. I’d already thrown away my shot at Heaven to save her and Colt, but back then I still had the fantasy.

  Now I had an ex-girlfriend who was probably fucking my mortal enemy, a dead best friend I had murdered, a batshit crazy brother, and a complete fucking inability to get shitfaced.

  My throat went dry again. I swallowed and took a breath through my nose. Everything in the room faded out to gray and black ash. Except the blood. That glowed bright red against the bathroom floor.

  I could probably lick most of that up if I tried. It would burn going down, just like liquor always did before it hit me. For now maybe that would be enough.

  Except it hadn’t been enough before. Not even when the guy had screamed and Mitzi and I ripped into him.

  The vamp part of my brain tried to react to that memory, but I shut it down. This whole thing made me feel like I was playing one of the Blood City video games with Jax. Like I was pushing buttons to make stuff happen, but it wasn’t really me doing it.

  “Hello? Tough? Earth to man-whore.” Mitzi was standing naked in front of the mirror, lip gloss paused halfway to her mouth. Not a real practical place to be standing, considering she didn’t have a reflection. But you couldn’t tell Mitzi that. She did the weird shit she did and she didn’t give a fuck what anybody else thought about it. “I said you’re not going to do that stupid new-vamp thing where you freak out, are you? Because it’s not like you even deserve to be upset. How many people have you killed now, anyway? Like a hundred during the NP-Human Conflict, right?”

  That didn’t count. I hadn’t killed any humans during the war, just mortal NPs—and not very many because I’d only been eight when fighting broke out. Probably ten kills, tops, and about half of those with help from Sissy.

  So far, for humans, I’d only killed my brother, my best friend, and now this random vamp groupie.

  Mitzi went back to spackling on the lip gloss, then rolled her lips together and popped them at the mirror. “You killed a human, you used to be human, mortality this, death that, good, evil, Heaven, Hell—I can’t stand that shit. Just accept what you are now and that you get off on killing. That’s all I want—one newly made vampire who doesn’t go through a postmortem existential crisis.”

  Listening to her talk was like having someone jam sixteen-penny nails into my eardrums and twist them around. I hated silence—I always had—but her voice was so much worse. But I couldn’t tell her to shut up because I didn’t have a direct vamp connection with her. To talk to Mitzi, I’d have to go through Tiffani. Call me crazy, but I didn’t really want everyone in town to know that I’d gone running back to the psycho-bitch who’d helped her dickhole husband steal my voice and fuck me over.

  “—because if you think you can lie to me about how much you like it, remember I’ve been a vampire since before your grandparents were born. Probably your great-grandparents. I am a predator. The apex predator. I know what a rush it is to—”

  Fuck, I hated Mitzi. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten how much I hated her.

  The vamp speed kicked in and I was across the room before I realized I was moving. But Mitzi was faster and stronger than me, and she had a better handle on her reflexes.

  She slammed me to the floor. “That is so cute. As if you could take me down. Even—”

  I grabbed the back of Mitzi’s head and tried to pull her down for a kiss—anything to stop that godawful noise coming out of her mouth—but she laughed and smacked my hands away like they were nothing.

  “You want to play, Romeo? Let’s play.” She raked her fingernails down the side of my face. The skin shredded.

  I winced and kicked the floor. That nasty burning-hair, rotting-blood, hot sauce smell filled the room as vamp venom oozed up in the scratches.

  The pain faded way too fast and the vamp healing started up. If I was going to hurt, I wanted to hurt worse, to never stop hurting. I grabbed Mitzi’s hand and put it on my chest. She took the hint and tore in.

  The healing kicked in before she could do any real damage.

  “Ooh, somebody likes that.” She hopped onto my lap and dug a line down my stomach. Then a handful more down my neck. She smirked at the way I arched into her fingernails. “Now who’s the psycho-bitch?”

  Still you. In fact, I was willing to bet my undead ass that she had her sex knives hidden in the room somewhere. I made a slashing motion with my hand and mouthed, Knives?

  “And here I was worried you weren’t going to be any fun now that you’re cold.” Mitzi grinned. “I think this might be the beginning of something wonderful.”

  Desty

  Night settled in as I made my way back toward town. The walk from Colt’s cabin was probably less than five miles, but it felt infinite. Trying to swallow the self-hatred from breaking up with Tough had really worn me out.

  I cried a little bit, too, which slowed me down even more. Especially when I had to get off the road for a while because I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t watch for cars. Thank God for that culvert. If someone had seen me and stopped, I don’t know what I would’ve told them.

  Once the crying stopped, I felt numb. It was like the tears had washed all the emotion away. I adjusted my backpack straps, dug my fingers into the long grass, and half-pulled, half-climbed my way back out of the culvert and onto the blacktop. There, I put one foot in front of the other like a zombie tracker.

  Can’t stop until I see carnival lights.

  When I got to town, I took a left off the main drag toward the square, expecting to see the Armistice Celebration in full swing. As much as I loathed the idea of being around other living creatures right then, I needed to catch a ride to the Dark Mansion and Tempie. She needed me. And she was all I had lef
t.

  After a couple blocks, I saw the bank clock blinking the temperature. A cool 92 degrees. Downright frigid compared to the last couple of days. I passed the dark-windowed bakery, a few generic brick storefronts that I hadn’t wasted any time or money in, and the Witches’ Council building, where Jax and I had spent most of the last few days, trying to save Tough.

  Tears prickled the back of my eyes thinking about Jax. About Tough afterward, sitting on the couch, staring at that wireless video game controller like the softest touch would shatter him. He had needed me.

  No, he needed somewhere to stick it. You were just the most convenient hole.

  Movement in the shadows to my left, followed by a metallic rattle. My stomach lurched.

  Some guy wearing a black hoodie—with his hood up in the middle of the hottest August on record—and pointing a can of spray paint at the Halo Center for Tourism’s front window.

  Definitely nothing suspicious about that.

  He saw me staring.

  “Get lost, tourist.” His voice teetered in that embarrassing gray area between manhood and puberty.

  I rolled my eyes and veered right, toward the lights of the carnival rides and food stands.

  Voices echoed off the buildings, filling the square with noise, but something wasn’t right. Something besides graffiti-ing teenagers dressed as conspicuously as possible. I slowed down and hooked my hands in my backpack straps.

  The rides weren’t moving. The carnival was deserted. No one milled around the Tilt-a-Whirl or played rigged games on the midway or waited in line at the food stands.

  So, where was all that yelling coming from? I turned, searching the square for the source of the sound.

  A mob had gathered on the north side, across the street from the Halo Old Town Square marker. Huge work lights, stacks of speakers, and vans with various news logos were all clustered around a podium. Somber-faced fallen angel foot soldiers patrolled the edges of the crowd, and Kathan and Tempie stood together at the front.

  Kathan disentangled himself from Tempie. She stood back like a good little arm candy as he took to the podium. He faced the cameras and crowd with grim resolution.

  The yelling stopped immediately.

  That’s when it finally hit me what was happening. This was a press conference.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” The speakers broadcast Kathan’s deep, rich voice across the square. “By now you’ve heard about the terrorist attack on the Armistice Celebration’s Official Welcome Ceremony this afternoon. This sickening assault was the action of an unstable mind, a single, solitary man obsessed with cleansing Halo of its non-person population. The last holdout from the NP-Human Conflict, Colt Whitney.”

  My throat went dry. I wanted to get closer, but something held me rooted to the spot.

  “Thankfully, casualties were kept to a minimum by the quick thinking and heroic actions of Officer Rian, who was injured while attempting to protect our guests, and—” Kathan let his expression fall momentarily and lowered his head. Or maybe it was real. Maybe fallen angels could feel pain and loss. From this far away, it was hard to tell for sure. “—and Mikal, my enforcer, my right hand since before time began…my closest friend… Mikal was ripped from this world while attempting to subdue the gunman.”

  Moments passed. No one so much as breathed.

  Kathan slammed his fist on the podium, and I flinched.

  “But we will not yet mourn her loss,” Kathan declared. “Not while the monster who perpetrated this heinous crime is still walking free. Colt Whitney—wherever he is hiding—will be found and made to answer for his crimes. He will be brought to justice.” Kathan glared into each camera in turn. “This is my promise to the citizens of Halo. This is my promise to Mikal. This ends now. Next year, when we gather again, it won’t be in remembrance of an armistice between humans and non-people. It will be to celebrate a true end to hostilities between all races. It will be to mark the beginning of a new era.”

  Kathan surveyed the cameras in silence one more time, then indicated that he would take questions now. The crowd surged forward as if being closer to the podium would make Kathan more likely to call on them.

  “Hey, girl.”

  The voice snapped me out of my temporary paralysis. I turned.

  Finn, the vampire who had lied about helping me find Tempie in exchange for drinking off me—and not from any of the accepted biting places. The dickbag had sucked off of my breast without even asking.

  I rolled my eyes and headed for the podium.

  “Wait.” Finn caught up to me. “About the other night—I know you’re mad, but what happened… When I feel a connection like that…” His fangs glinted in the carnival lights. I wondered if he bleached them. Probably, if his perfect eyebrows and sculpted stubble were any indication. “I freaked out. I’m sorry, but I haven’t felt something like that since I got made. And, anyway, it’s not like I was great at intimacy before this. But with you, it felt like—like I was alive again. Better than alive. Superhuman.”

  I stopped walking. “Do you even know what my name is?”

  “Angel,” he said, his voice dropping an octave and gaining some gravel. “Sunlight. Life. Warmth. Everything good and beautiful that I don’t have anymore. That I’ll never have again.”

  “So, no, to the name thing?” I started walking again.

  Somewhere along the way I’d forgotten what it was like to be in NP towns, to have everyone assessing what they wanted from me and how I could best be persuaded to hand it over.

  Tough—he was when I forgot. He’d been the most sincere person I’d met in forever.

  Yeah, and look how that ended.

  “Just listen!” Finn grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. He was glaring—not the deep brooding stare he’d affected before, but a furious snarl.

  “Get your hands off me or I’ll start praying.” I guess that Vampires 101 lecture with Harper had finally kicked in.

  Except I was looking him in the eyes.

  Crap. I locked onto at a spot just above his perfect eyebrows before he could mesmerize me. Once bitten…hardy har.

  Finn let go and held up his hands to show that he wasn’t a threat. “Tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll do it if you’ll let me drink off you again.”

  “That’s what this is about?” I said. “Just go to the cemetery and pick up a vamp-groupie.”

  “If you’re going to be a bitch about this, then tell me what you are.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll leave you alone if you tell me what you are.”

  Up at the front of the crowd, Kathan had ended the press conference. He went back to Tempie and took her hand. Together, they headed toward a waiting limo.

  “I don’t have time for this.” I broke into a jog.

  I made it three steps. Then something smashed into my backpack and knocked me forward. I threw my hands out to break my fall, but ended up skidding on my hands and knees in the grass. I didn’t even have time to wonder what happened.

  Someone grabbed my shoulder and flipped me onto my butt.

  “I’ve been cold for three and a half fucking years,” Finn growled. “If you think I’m going to take ‘Fuck off’ for an answer—”

  My brain was still struggling to catch up when a blur from my right knocked Finn off his feet.

  “Nobody touches my sister.” Tempie stepped in front of me, fists clenched at her side. “Especially not some no-account vampire pretty-boy. We are the Destroyer, the Godkiller, and you had better learn some fucking respect or you will be one of the first assholes up against the wall when the last battle comes.”

  I don’t think Finn heard her. He was too busy writhing on the ground, holding the newly concave side of his face.

  “Come on, nerd. Let’s go home.” Tempie slipped her hand into mine and helped me to my feet. “And don’t you dare say anything about Mom. I mean our new home, our real home.”

  Tiffani

  I left the cabin numb. The pai
n hit a few miles later, halfway across the Hickses’ field. I stopped walking and patted my pockets for cigarettes. Took a shaky breath.

  That was a mistake. I smelled Colt everywhere. This was his footpath I was following, an as-the-crow-flies line through the sun-scorched hay toward Halo. His scent had faded over the past month and a half while he was with Mikal, but the super-smeller picked it out of the dirt, out of the oldest weeds and grass, right out of the damn air. Gun oil, tattoo ink, sweat, heat, sunlight.

  The raw scratch of his voice echoed in my head, “You’re the last person I want to remember.”

  A month ago, if you’d asked me, I would have said nothing could hurt like the day I found out Mikal had enthralled Colt. Fifteen years ago, I would’ve said nothing could hurt like the day Tough stumbled into my bakery, bleeding from his eyebrow, and asked me to please call his daddy because the angel hurt Mommy. Thirty years ago, I would’ve said losing Shannon to Danny. And fifty years ago, I would’ve said finding out I was the reason Aaron and I couldn’t conceive, losing my husband to his very fertile secretary, and having my family shun me because of the divorce.

  When you’ve been a vampire for as long as I have, you begin to get perspective that most humans don’t live long enough to see. You start to realize that there’s always going to be something that hurts worse.

  If it had just been the territorial vamp reaction of hearing Colt say that he loved Mikal and didn’t even want to remember me, I could have handled it. I had been suppressing emotion since long before I’d gotten made. Vamp instincts weren’t much different.

  But Colt had gotten under my skin. Known exactly which buttons to push. So much like Shannon and yet so different. Shannon had found a sweet boy her own age to fall in love with and marry. Colt had just kept following me around like a lovesick puppy, smiling those self-conscious smiles, making those dry jokes, letting me lean against him for warmth.