The Wretched Series | Book 4 | Wretched Aftermath

by Michaels, E. G.

  “Need something heavier,” Walker said. He spotted a medium-size bookcase nearby. “Help me move that quickly.”

  The two men moved in tandem to grab and haul the furniture back toward the entrance and shoved it against the already moving desk.

  Walker put his hands on the wooden furniture. “It’s not heavy enough to hold,” he said between breaths.

  “Yeah, on it,” Sams said. He rushed over to the next bookshelf, gave it an experimental shove. The half-empty unit moved a few inches. Sams moved to the side of the bookshelf and began pushing toward the door. Walker watched as his friend moved the furniture over to him before helping him shove it against the previous one.

  “You’re moving the next one,” Sams gasped. “This sucker is heavy.”

  Walker sprang into action and grabbed several nearby reception area chairs. He tossed them onto the desk, building their barricade even higher.

  “My turn,” Sams ordered. “Watch the front.”

  Walker nodded once, grateful for the chance to grab a few heaving breaths. He turned his attention to their makeshift barricade.

  A Reaper slammed its body into one of the storefront windows. There was a loud bang, and a hairline fracture in the glass began to form.

  “We’re out of time,” Walker shouted. He grabbed one of his remaining rifle magazines and offered it to Sams. “Let’s move out.”

  Sams grabbed the offered ammo and did a fast magazine swap. “I was afraid you were going to say that. I’ll take point. You take care of any assholes that manage to get in.”

  “Done,” Walker answered. “Find us a way out.”

  Walker watched as his friend moved toward the back of the store. He mentally counted to two and then followed. The light in the store quickly shifted into darkness, and Walker switched the light on his rifle. Sams was nowhere in sight.

  “Derrick?” he called out softly.

  There was a loud sound of glass breaking. Walker strained to pinpoint the direction of the noise. A loud growl sounded from the same direction. Then a second and a third.

  “Possible breach,” Walker hissed. “Where the hell are you?”

  “Over here,” a voice called softly. “Hurry.”

  Walker hustled toward the direction of the voice. There. A hallway with a sharp ninety-degree turn to the right. It would help to funnel their pursuers into an easy-to-defend firing lane. Walker hauled ass for the opening. As he rounded the corner, a door suddenly opened next to him. A pair of hands grabbed his backpack and yanked him off-balance. Walker felt himself stumble, and then someone yanked him into the darkness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Yes, what is it?” Haas said. He set down the freshly killed bird he had been eating. The dead creature was small and somewhat pitiful looking. A little voice in the back of his head said it was just a snack, and he silently agreed.

  “My Lord, we have found him. The one you call Foster.”

  “Are you sure?” Haas asked. He didn’t want to chase after a bad lead. Quite frankly, he’d gotten enough of them from Beeks to fill the quota for a lifetime.

  “Yes. The humans used the same motorized cart that you described.”

  “Show me.”

  “What? I-I'm not sure.”

  “Your eyes,” Haas said. “Use them, and show me what you see.”

  “How do I—”

  “Hold still.” Haas growled. He mentally grabbed the mind of the soldier reporting. He felt the creature’s brain stiffen under his somewhat rough embrace. He eased back his pressure slightly. The soldier was of no use to him dead. He slowly searched the minion’s memories, looking for what the loyal follower had seen.

  “Dark truck. Excellent, I'm on my way. Do not let any of the humans leave the house until I get there.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Haas released his hold on the creature’s mind and began running. He had several blocks to cover in order to reach Foster’s reported location. He picked up the pace and silently hoped the human didn’t try to leave before Haas reached him.

  Gerald hunkered down behind the SUV. He adjusted the armband on his left arm nervously and then pulled a walkie-talkie off his hip. He stared at it like it might come alive and try to eat his face. He’d become a Guardian for one reason. It was supposed to be an easier job than working any of the available blue-collar jobs. Except the job had completely changed lately. Now he had people shooting at him, which scared the absolute shit out of him. His old boss, Walter, had understood he wasn’t much of a fighter. But Walter was dead now. And the new guy? Silas was certifiably nuts. It was only a matter of time before he got somebody killed. If he was lucky, he’d be able to avoid trouble with his new boss. And one way to do that was to be the guy who found Foster. That was sure to score points in his favor. Gerald had a hunch on where Foster’s gang might be hiding out. He’d been on his way home last night and saw a light briefly on the second floor of a retail store. At the time, he hadn’t thought it was anything. But the idea kept nagging him. So today he decided to park a block away and approach the stores on foot. Sure enough, there were some unfamiliar vehicles behind the buildings. Which struck him as odd because all those businesses had been closed by Ezekiel’s order after they were deemed unessential for the church’s needs.

  As soon as Gerald saw the vehicles and people coming in and out of the buildings, he’d quietly retreated to his Guardian-issued truck. It had to be Foster and his gang. Nobody else would be crazy enough to move into an area that wasn’t protected by the Guardians. That was just asking to be eaten by the Reapers.

  Gerald shook uncontrollably. He really didn’t want to report what he’d discovered. He’d heard Foster was dangerous. The guy had to be, having killed Walter and a bunch of other Guardians in the marina shootout. The scuttlebutt among the boys was that Foster had single-handedly slaughtered dozens of Reapers there, too. Gerald felt his heart race even faster. He definitely didn’t want to cross swords with the guy. It seemed like an easy way to end up dead. It was near the end of his shift. Maybe he could just make his report and then go home, where it was quiet and safe.

  “Guardian Central, please come in,” the man said.

  “This is Central. Who is this?”

  “Gerald.”

  “You’re supposed to use your call sign. Patrol Six. Remember?”

  “Right. Sorry. It’s just I was on my way home and spotted some people matching the description of our watch list.”

  “How sure?”

  “Pretty sure. I saw a bunch of men and women go in. The men left, but the rest of their group didn’t.”

  A new voice came across the walkie-talkie.

  “This is Silas,” the voice said. “What’s your position?”

  Gerald pressed the transmit button on his walkie-talkie and gave his location.

  “I want you to stay there and watch the location,” Silas ordered. “Report any more activity you see.”

  “For how long? I’m supposed to be on my way home.”

  “Do I sound like I care about your social life?”

  “No, sir. Not at all.”

  “Stay where you are until I get there. If anyone else goes in or comes out, call it in. Got it?”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  Gerald released the transmit button on his walkie-talkie and slowly returned it to his hip. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and he stuffed them in his pockets in an attempt to control them. Knowing that Silas was coming to his location scared him. Because he had a feeling that once his boss showed up, it wasn’t going to be safe to be here.

  Chapter Twenty

  Almost immediately, Walker began trying to regain his balance. He managed to get one foot planted, pivoted toward his attacker, and threw his shoulder toward them. The point of his shoulder struck home, driving the assailant into the nearby wall. Walker drew his knife, bringing the weapon up to strike. As he did, he saw he was holding a scrawny elderly woman against the wall and stopped short of driving his blade int
o her neck. He let his eyes run up and down her figure. There weren’t any visible weapons on her body.

  “Shhh,” she whispered. “They’ll hear.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Walker replied.

  “A friend. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Or the other one.”

  “You surprised me,” Walker said as he slowly began to return the knife to its protective sheath. Who was this strange woman? And why was she here in this dark corridor with him?

  “It’s not safe to be here,” the woman said, “Come with me. My husband and I have a safe place nearby.”

  “Nick,” Sams’ voice hissed from the hallway.

  “Here,” Walker said. He added in a low voice, “Got a new friendly.”

  Sams came around the corner, shining his light. The woman reflexively brought her hand up to cover her eyes.

  “Walker, what the hell?”

  “They’re coming. They’re coming,” the woman said. “We need to hurry.”

  “She’s got a place for us to hole up,” Walker said. “At least till these things pass.”

  “Sure that’s a good idea?” Sams asked.

  “Sure it’s not?” Walker countered.

  “You think we should take a look and see what we got?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Head on a swivel?”

  “Uh-huh,” Walker answered. “First sign of trouble, we eliminate the threat.”

  The two men began to follow the woman. She moved down the hallway back to the next intersection, stopped to look back at them, waiting for them to reach her, then headed to the left. The next intersection, she did the same thing, except this time moving to the right. She carefully moved a floor-to-ceiling curtain, revealing a set of stairs. She began moving down them, not waiting to see if the men were still following her.

  Walker proceeded down the stairs carefully. As he reached the below ground level, he noticed there was debris everywhere in the new corridor. Walker carefully used the light on his rifle to light their way and avoid stepping on something that could cause him to turn an ankle. He followed the woman through three more turns before they reached a grate in the wall.

  “In here. In here,” the woman urged. “I’ll close it behind you.”

  “How about you lead the way, and we’ll close it behind us?” Walker suggested. “That thing looks awfully heavy.”

  “Suit yourself,” the woman snarled. “Just be careful of my Nelson, okay? He gets nervous around strangers.”

  “Gotcha,” Walker said. He flashed a quick look at Sams and saw his friend give a quick nod. Both men were definitely keeping an eye out for two people now. One in plain sight and another one who might be hidden. Walker slowed his pace slightly and began actively scanning the area ahead. He’d be damned if he would let his guard down now and get jumped by surprise again. If someone was foolish enough to try attacking him, then Walker wouldn’t hesitate this time. He’d be ready to act with overwhelming violence.

  Walker stepped into the room, taking care to keep the strange woman in front of him. He began to slowly shine his rifle light around the room. As he did, he panned by one object in the corner and panned back. There was a visibly dead man propped up in a chair. From the blood splatter on the wall behind him and the revolver lying on the floor below his outstretched hand, Foster could only guess the elderly man had taken his life. He glanced at the body again. There was a bandage crudely wrapped around the man’s forearm. A large amount of dried blood was visible on its exterior.

  “Be a dear, and push those boxes back,” she said. “It helps hide us from those things.”

  Walker looked at a stack of boxes near the doorway. The three boxes didn’t look like they’d cover much of anything. They probably wouldn’t stop much more than a toddler charging into the room, either. He decided to play along and keep the stranger on friendly terms. “Of course,” he said quickly. He effortlessly slid the boxes in front of the entrance.

  “Nelson, we’ve got company,” the woman said. “What's that? Nelson, don’t be rude. They seem like very nice young men.”

  Sams looked at Walker with a knowing look. Walker nodded once, acknowledging that there was definitely something off about their host.

  “How long have you and...?” Walker asked. He dragged the question out to avoid calling the dead man by the wrong name. If this woman was as emotionally unstable as Walker suspected, then he didn’t want to risk triggering her anger and creating a new threat.

  “Nelson. He’s my husband. We’ve been married thirty-four years.”

  “I see. How long have you and Nelson been down here?”

  “Not long. Not long. A week, maybe two.”

  “I see. Is Nelson okay?” Sams asked carefully. “He looks a little under the weather.”

  “He’s fine. He’s fine. Don’t talk that way about my Nelson.”

  “Sorry, ma’am, my friend didn’t mean anything by it,” Walker said. “I think he saw the bandage on your husband’s arm and was a bit concerned that he might be hurt.”

  “Nelson is fine. One of those things broke into our home. Managed to bite him. But my man’s not a whiner. Didn’t scream out or cry when it happened. Just shot that thing in the head.”

  Walker stole a quick glance at the dead body. The late Nelson might not have been a complainer, but he’d obviously realized he was infected and opted to end his life before he turned. “Fair enough,” he said in what he hoped was a calming voice. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “It’s Tina.”

  “Right. Okay, Tina,” Sams said slowly. “You know, we probably should be heading back soon. The girls will be worried about us.”

  “Girls? There are others?”

  “Not far from here,” Walker said. “We help keep them safe. Like you do for your husband.”

  “Oh no, Nelson is the one who protects me,” Tina said. “I feel so safe with him here. If any of those things got in here, I just know he would shoot them.”

  “I see,” Walker said.

  “It's not safe to go back right now. You need to wait.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Tell you what,” Sams said. “My friend and I are going to take up guard duty here by the door. Make sure that none of those things try to come in here, okay?”

  “You wouldn’t try and rob an old couple, would you?”

  “Not at all,” Sams said. “We’re former military, ma’am.”

  “Uh-huh,” the woman said suspiciously. “Where’s your uniforms?”

  “Former,” Sams said. “We don’t have to wear a uniform anymore.”

  “What’s that?” Tina said. She cocked her head to the side, like she was listening to someone. “Nelson said there’s a lot of people who claim to be in the army and are lying. ’Specially with what’s going on out there.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any identification with me, ma’am,” Sams said. “I left it with my other belongings with my friends.”

  “Uh-huh,” Tina said and crossed her arms in front of her. “If you say so.”

  “What my friend is trying to say is that we were both in the Army,” Walker said. “Retired with honors and are now ordinary citizens. So we don’t wear our Army unis anymore.”

  “Well, Nelson thinks we need to keep a close eye on you two,” Tina replied. “You two just stay over there, all right? We’ll wait for those things to go by, then we’ll talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The sun was starting to rise as the Hummer pulled up to the shopping strip, drove past it, and stopped about a block away. The passenger door opened, and Silas slid out and began moving. He heard several car doors slam behind him and knew without looking back that the rest of his men were now following him.

  Silas stalked toward his scout, who was partially hiding behind a parked vehicle. He watched as the visibly tired man froze in place with a terrified look on his face.

  “I want an update,” Silas demanded. “Has anyone left?”


  “N-no,” Gerald stammered.

  “Are you sure?” Silas asked.

  “Pretty sure,” the guy said. “I ain’t seen anybody leave...”

  “You mean you haven’t seen anybody leave?”

  ”Yes, that’s right,” the man stammered.

  “Great,” Silas said. “All right, you are coming with us.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I said so,” Silas sneered. “Or are you challenging my authority?”

  “No, not at all, sir,” the man stammered. “It’s just I’ve been here all night watching the place. I really could use—”

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” Silas interrupted. “We had two vehicles being repaired last night, and I needed to let the rest of the boys get some sleep. Plus, we don’t have any those fancy SEAL night thingies.”

  “Night-vision goggles?” Gerald offered.

  “Yeah. None of those things,” Silas answered. “How many people are up there?”

  “Two women. I think they might have a few kids there, too.”

  “There you go again,” Silas answered. “I don’t want to hear what you think. I want to hear what you know.”

  “Four people,” Gerald answered quickly. “No men.”

  “Good.” Silas looked around. There were five soldiers with him now, counting the nervous scout. “This should be easy. Let’s go collect these women and kids. They should know where this Foster guy is. We do this right, and he’ll be able to get home to the old ball and chain.” He pointed his thumb toward Gerald, and the man quickly looked at the ground. Silas felt a burst of glee, knowing he’d embarrassed the man. Served him right for being so pussy-whipped.