“Malcolm, it’s Charles, come in,” he pleaded. “Come in, please.”
There was an immediate response, and Charles felt a wave of relief rush through him.
“What's wrong?” Foster asked.
“They... They took Gregory.”
“Who?”
“One of the Reapers. He had a red cape,” Charles said. “He wants to meet you, Malcolm. He says he wants to talk to you. Something about a truce. No, wait. He said cease fire.”
“What else did he say?”
“He’s holding Gregory hostage until you show up.”
“We’ll get him back,” Foster answered. “Give me your address and I'll be there.”
Charles looked at the front of the door and read out the address. He repeated it a second time.
“Got it. All right, I'm leaving now,” Foster said. “Don’t leave.”
“Just hurry Malcolm. Please. M-my son-”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Foster lowered the walkie-talkie and looked at Sams.
“Yeah, I heard the whole thing,” Sams muttered. “You want me to come with and back you up?”
“Normally, I’d say yes.”
“But?”
“Someone needs to keep this place secure until the others get here,” Foster answered. “Otherwise, they have to go through clearing the whole property again.”
“You still need backup. This whole lone wolf gimmick could get you killed. Especially if you’re dealing with a bunch of Reapers.”
“I don’t disagree,” Foster answered. “But I will have Charles and Gregory there, too.”
“Who could be compromised.”
“Got any paper?” Foster asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because I’m going to give you the address. As soon as the others get here, you can shift into standby. If I need you as backup, I’ll call you and you can be there in a matter of minutes.”
“Like a quick reaction force. A QRF.”
“Exactly.”
“One war, one Spartan.”
“You’re a former Ranger,” Foster pointed out. “Not a spear and shield-carrying Greek.”
“Same concept, better weapons.”
“Uh-huh. So as soon as the rest of the group gets here, you’re my QRF,” Foster said. He began checking the magazines in his vest to confirm they were all fully loaded. He double-checked the silver dagger was still secured on his hip. “I think we should regroup and spend the night here. It’ll give us time to go through all of the supplies and inventory them. Make sure we aren’t missing anything critical we need for the trip.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m sure all of us could use a solid night of sleep. Seeing that we were in a firefight and holed up underground all night, Nick and I definitely could use some quality shut-eye. We can leave at first light and get the hell out of this town.”
“Gregory, Charles, and I were stuck in an attic with a bunch of Reapers banging on the walls the whole time. So we’re functioning on willpower and caffeine, too.”
“The girls started their morning with a gunfight. So I’m sure they would appreciate a night of uninterrupted peace, too.”
“Yeah, probably,” Foster answered. “Hopefully this Reaper really just wants to talk.”
“Hopefully. These things do some crazy shit sometimes.”
“You mean, like raising its paws in the air in surrender?”
“Yeah, I had some strange dreams about that one afterward. You think you can talk this Reaper down?”
“Let’s hope so. I’m not sure if Charles could handle losing his son, too.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Foster brought the Tahoe to a stop behind Charles’ parked vehicle and cut the engine. He opened the driver’s side door and took care to close it quietly. A moment later, Charles emerged from his Land Cruiser.
“Are you okay?” Foster said.
“I’m fine,” Charles answered. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”
“Let’s go get your son back.”
Foster followed the former priest into the building, his nerves jangling like crazy every step of the way. There was a wild range of possible outcomes, and not all of them were good. He was ready for the worst and hoping for the best one. If this was the end of the road for him, then he was fully prepared to take as many Reapers as he could with him.
The two men made their way carefully through the building. Foster kept his eyes constantly moving, looking for any potential ambushes or traps. But there was nothing waiting to attack them, and they reached a closed door in a matter of minutes.
“In there?” Foster asked.
“Yes,” Charles said. “They were at the opposite end of the room when I was told to leave.”
“Anything you remember about the space?”
“There’s a window on the side. Some different furniture we tried to use to barricade the door and window. Not that it worked.”
“Okay, good to know,” Foster said. He took position at the doorframe and motioned for Charles to take position behind him. “I’ll count to three, and then we’re going in. I want you to cover me.”
Foster silently counted down, grabbed the doorknob, and yanked the door open. He charged into the room, bringing his rifle up, sighting on targets.
“That’s far enough, human,” a voice called out.
Foster turned his attention toward the sound. There was a large Reaper standing at the opposite end of the room. A trio of creatures were spread out in front of it. His eyes quickly shifted back to the group’s leader. The monster wore a long, flowing red cape and easily towered over the trembling Gregory. The Reaper had one hand on the man’s shoulder and the other braced against his neck.
“Are you all right?” Foster called out.
“I’m touched that you’re worried about me, human,” the Reaper answered.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Foster answered. “Gregory, are you okay?”
“Y-Yes,” the man stammered.
“All right, I'm here,” Foster said. “What do you want?”
“Are you Foster?” the Reaper asked.
“Yes. What do you want?”
“Did the other human not tell you?”
“Look, I’m here,” Foster said. “There’s no reason for you to keep him any longer.”
“Drop your weapons, and we’ll talk.”
“No can do,” Foster said. “Last time I checked, those claws of yours were considered a weapon.”
The Reaper let out a low growl. “I ain’t asking you again.”
“I need a sign of good faith. You let him go, and I’ll remove my weapons.”
“Okay.” The monster chuckled. “Drop the knife and the gun. Then I let the pup go.”
Pup? Oh, he must mean Gregory, Foster thought.
“I meant what I said, Foster,” the Reaper continued. “I want to talk. Don’t try me, or I may change my mind.”
“All right, take it easy,” Foster answered. “I’m gonna put my weapons over on that table, okay? I’m moving slowly. Don’t hurt him.”
“Slowly,” the Reaper commanded. “No sudden moves.”
Foster took his rifle and set it down on the table. He repeated the process with his Glock and then made a show of removing the dagger and putting it on the table, too. He took three steps back from the table and looked toward the Reaper to see if it was going to release Gregory as promised. Foster was still close enough to his weapons that, if he needed to, he could make a play for it. Worst-case scenario, he still had his backup gun in his ankle holster. It wasn’t loaded with silver bullets, but it could deliver the needed headshots to kill all three Reapers in the room.
The Reaper released Gregory and took a half-step backward. The creature had positioned himself in front of a closed door.
Smart, Foster thought. If this deal goes to hell, he’s ready to bolt out the door. Don’t underestimate this one, Malcolm.
“Leave us, pup,” the creatu
re said. “And take the old man with you.”
Gregory looked at Foster for reassurance.
Foster nodded slowly. He gestured with his head toward the exit. He turned his attention back to the red-caped Reaper. “Is it okay to talk in front of your sidekicks?”
“Leave us,” the monster rumbled. The two minions retreated through the door behind their master. The creature waited until it was just Foster and it in the room before adding, “Don’t worry, human. I’m fine with just the two of us in here.”
“You got others watching this place?”
The Reaper’s chest puffed up noticeably. “My soldiers. They’re loyal to me.”
“What should I call you?” Foster asked.
“Haas,” the red-caped monster answered. “Fos-ter, I wish to make a trade.”
“What kind?”
“Information.”
“You want me to give you information?”
Haas chuckled softly. “No.”
“I see,” Foster said. “You have information you think I might want.”
“Yes.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“My freedom.”
“Last time I checked, you can walk out the door any time you want.”
A low growl came out of Haas’ chest. “It's not you keeping me here.”
“I don’t understand.”
Haas gestured toward his own body. “My friend and I were transformed into this.”
“Who turned you?”
“That’s not important,” Haas said. “We were minding our own business. Trying to exist on our own here. At first, we focused on the old and the weak to feed. A few we used to create new soldiers to protect ourselves. Then someone else discovered us.”
“What’s their name?”
Haas growled. “I won’t tell it to you right now.”
“Why?”
“Too risky. I don’t know who else might hear it and tell him that I’m talking. He is the true Alpha. All others must kneel before him.”
“Including you?”
Haas growled.
“Sorry, I meant no offense,” Foster said quickly. “I’m trying to understand what happened.”
“I had no choice.” Haas snarled. “He killed my friend in front of me, and I couldn’t stop him. Then he gave me a choice: Submit or die. Dying wouldn’t bring my friend back. So I swallowed my pride and submitted.”
“Why don’t you kill him yourself?” Foster asked. “I mean, you’d have an easy time getting close to him, right?”
“He doesn’t let his guard down around any of his soldiers. And if there was an attempt on his life, I would be the first one he suspected to be behind it.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Simple. With a little help, perhaps you will get lucky and get rid of our mutual problem.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
“Yes,” Haas said.
“And if I fail, then you’re still in the clear with your boss.”
“Of course. But I think both of us would prefer to see you succeed.”
“And if I do this, what do you get out of it?”
“Freedom,” Haas rumbled. “And I will no longer be forced to cater to his every whim.”
“If he’s dead, where will you go?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Haas admitted. “Some place far away from humans. Preferably quiet, remote, and with some local wildlife that I can hunt.”
“In other words, you won’t be a problem for anyone once this boss is gone?”
“That’s right.”
“All right. So where is this King of Kings?”
“Not here,” Haas answered. “He has a place where he rules from.”
“Like a kingdom or a lair?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. I’m interested. But...”
“But what?”
“We need a way out of this place,” Foster said. “Between the Reapers and the Guardians around here, it seems like every way out of town will result in a big fight.”
“You can’t leave on your own? Like you said before, I’m not holding a weapon on you.”
“That’s true,” Foster said. “But if we have to kill some of your soldiers in order to make an escape path, then you are okay with that?”
Haas growled softly. “You made your point, human. Let me see what I can do to create an escape route for you.”
“Great. One more thing,” Foster said carefully. “I need to talk to the rest of my group first.”
“What?” Haas snarled.
“Relax, big fellow,” Foster said. “Before I put their lives on the line, I need to make sure they’re willing to take the mission, too. Otherwise, I’m looking to take out the leader of a huge army by myself.”
Haas grumbled. “I’ve said too much.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Foster said. “You’ll need to trust me on this. We both win if this head honcho is removed.”
“How long until you’ve made a decision?”
“Give me two days.”
“No. I can’t wait that long for your answer.”
“All right,” Foster said. “By sunset tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
“How do I get a hold of you?”
“You won’t,” Haas answered. “But you’ll hear from me by then.” The Reaper turned and then bolted out the door behind him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
After the impromptu meeting with the red-caped Reaper, Foster sprang into action. He made a quick call to Sams and let him know that everything was okay. He took a few minutes and helped Charles and Gregory load some medical supplies into the Tahoe. The Land Cruiser was on the Guardians’ radar, so they left it with the keys on the dashboard at the vet’s office. From there, he brought Charles and Gregory back to the new base. The two men stayed long enough to retrieve the Suburban and then took both vehicles back to the gun shop. About an hour later, the entire group was reunited in their new base of operations. Of course, if they stuck to their current game plan, they wouldn’t be staying here or in Rehoboth Beach much longer.
Foster and Sams were in the kitchen, enjoying some actual coffee that they had found in the house. And always the two men had found a topic worthy of debate.
“Come on, man, admit it,” Sams said. “Football is the most physically demanding sport.”
“The international sport?” Foster asked. “You know, the one Americans call soccer?”
“I mean the one with helmets and shoulder pads. Those guys are always playing hurt.”
“It’s a worthy contender,” Foster answered. “But my vote would be gymnastics or ice hockey.” He heard the kitchen door open and saw Amanda enter the room.
“There’s no hitting in gymnastics,” Sams pointed out. “I gotta deduct a point for that. Plus, everybody in the sport is like five feet tall.”
“Not everyone,” Foster countered. “Besides, it takes a ton of strength and agility to do all of their maneuvers safely.”
“What are you two talking about?” Amanda asked.
“Toughest physical sport,” Sams said. “What’s your vote?”
Amanda stood quietly for a moment. “Mixed martial arts,” she said. “The training is really tough. And your opponent is trying to knock you out or break your arm.”
“It’s tough, but there’s plenty of MMA fighters sporting a big old gut,” Sams said. “But yeah, a bad day at the office for them has a completely different meaning than it does for most people.”
“Malcolm, do you have a minute?” Amanda asked.
“Sure. But Sams and I are leaving to go on another scavenging trip soon.”
“That’s fine,” Amanda said. “I just need a few minutes. Somewhere private.” Sams’ eyebrows immediately shot up, and she quickly added, “To just talk.”
“Uh-huh,” Sams said. “Well, don’t keep the lady waiting, Malcolm. I’m just going to stay here and enjoy the fresh cup of coffee.”<
br />
“After you,” Foster said, gesturing for Amanda to lead the way. The two of them left the kitchen and walked through the house. Foster found an unoccupied bedroom, motioned for Amanda to go in, and followed her. He closed the door and turned toward her. The room was small to begin with, and with the two of them standing near the doorway, it was even more so.
“Is everything all right?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m not sure,” Amanda began, “With everything going on right now, I want you to know where I’m coming from.”
“Okay,” Foster said, drawing out the word.
“It’s just we’re in danger again,” Amanda said. “Only this time we’re trying to stay alive with Reapers and some crazy cult chasing after us. I just don’t feel like it’s fair to the rest of the group to distract you when all of us need you to keep us safe.”
“I have every intention of keeping all of us safe.”
“I know that, Malcolm,” Amanda said as she reached out and grabbed his hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze. “I feel like we don’t know really know much about each other.”
“That’s true,” Foster said. “But in all fairness, it’s not like we’ve had much opportunity to talk, let alone have something resembling a date.”
Amanda laughed bitterly. “And that’s my point. I mean, right now with everything going on, we can’t even have a normal conversation. There are more important things for us to talk about. Like where to find food. Or medicine. Or where we can find more bullets because we can’t risk running out of those.”
Foster looked down, saying nothing.
“I know Sams is waiting for you, so let me just say one more thing. Please be patient with me, Malcolm. Let’s get away from this current situation with Guardians and Reapers. Find someplace safe.”
“Like Hope Island?”
“Yes. Then we can take the time to get to know each other. We can start spending time together like people used to be able to do.”
The Wretched Series | Book 4 | Wretched Aftermath Page 16