He could see his house up ahead. It was dark. Well, most of the houses on his street were lights out, too. He heard an engine approaching and he threw caution to the wind, racing for the safety of his own home. Suddenly, the engine was nearly on top of him, and he saw a pickup truck screech to a halt in front of him.
As Will looked at the vehicle in front of him, he saw Silas was sitting in the passenger seat. Several other Guardians were riding in the back of the truck. None of them were smiling.
“Jesus, guys,” he gasped. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Get in the truck,” Silas ordered.
“Did you need something?” Will stammered. “I’m off duty and was just getting ready to go home and get some—”
“I’m not going to repeat myself again,” Silas said. He slowly pulled back his coat, revealing a gun in a holster. “Get in the fucking back of the truck.”
“Right,” Will said. He carefully climbed into the cargo bed, squeezing between two of the squatting Guardians.
The truck backed out of his driveway and took off down the street. Will felt his heart pounding, racing. He was unsure of what was going to happen. He felt the truck pick up speed. Will thought about jumping out, but quickly vetoed the idea. He was surrounded by several Guardians. He’d be lucky to get out of the speeding truck without any of them stopping him. The vehicle was moving pretty fast right now. Even if he could jump out of it safely, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t land on something that could injure him even worse.
They pulled to a stop in a driveway in front of another house. A garage door was open, and the lights were on. Will heard both doors open and slam shut on the truck. There was a gun in Silas’s hand. “Get out. Slowly.”
“Silas, man, you’re freaking me the hell out,” Will said, “What are you doing?” Suddenly Will felt something strike him in the back of his head. The blow dropped him to his knees, and he instinctively grabbed his head. As he pulled his hand back, it came back wet. He looked at his hand and saw blood.
“Pick him up,” Silas said, “Take him to the garage.”
Several hands roughly grabbed Will and yanked him up onto his feet.
“I don’t understand,” Will pleaded. “What are you doing?”
“String him up,” Silas ordered.
Will began to fight back, but it was no use. He was completely overwhelmed by an unknown number of Guardians. He felt some type of metal band slapped onto his left wrist, then his right. A moment later, each of his ankles were similarly secured.
He looked at each of his limbs. There were manacles attached to his wrists and ankles. He saw there were chains running from each one. He watched as the slack in the chain slowly began to disappear a moment before a stretching sensation in his limbs began. But as the chains were pulled up, the stretch quickly turned into pain, and Will let out a scream of agony.
“Let me go,” Will pleaded. “For the love of God, I don’t know what I did wrong. Just let me go. Please.” His eyes darted around. There were four Guardians there, and none of them would make eye contact with him.
“You boys can go take a break,” Silas said very calmly. “There’s some cold sodas in the fridge in the kitchen. Might even be a few beers. Help yourself.”
The quartet of Guardians nodded quietly and exited as one into the rest of the house. Will watched as Silas walked over and pushed a button on the garage door opener. The garage door began to close.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you that nobody likes a tattletale,” Silas said slowly. He picked up a knife and slowly turned it side to side, letting the light shine off of it.
“What are you talking about?” Will said. “Come on, man, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m talking about how you decided it was a good idea to go blabbing about me.”
“I didn’t. I swear.”
He saw Silas’s fist come racing toward his face and braced himself for the impact. It was a decent hit. Will had been hit harder before in his life, but the blow was enough that he felt his lip split.
“Damn, boy, you got a hard head,” Silas said, shaking his hand. “I have to remember not to do that again.” Silas picked up a knife. “Not when I got this.”
“I don’t know what I said that got you so mad, but I apologize,” Will pleaded. “All right? You need me to tell somebody that I lied?”
“So you admit you did talk.”
“That’s not what I—” Will suddenly screamed in agony. As he looked toward the source of the pain, he saw there was a fresh cut across his abdomen. He looked over, and the knife that Silas was holding was covered with blood. His blood.
“Please, Silas, I’m begging you. Just stop, man.”
“Stop? No, I don’t think so. We’ve only begun. You’ve got a lot more begging to do. I’m going to make an example out of you. People need to know what happens to tattletales.”
“No, please, pl—” Will screamed in agony again. This time, a new searing pain in the back of his calf.
“Squeal all you want,” Silas taunted. “Nobody is coming to save you.”
Silas slowly walked around him, taunting him and continuing to periodically slice new cuts on Will’s body.
At some point, Will passed out from the pain, only to be woken up when a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown on him.
Four hours and several dozens of cuts later, Will’s body finally gave out and he mercifully died.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It was nearly eight a.m., and Foster felt the best he had in days. He’d finally managed to grab some solid sleep in their new base, even if it had been broken up with a few shifts of guard duty.
Foster was fixing himself a cup of coffee when his satellite phone began to ring.
“Is that who I think it is?” Amanda asked.
“It should be,” Foster replied. “I don’t know who else would have the phone number.” He hit a button on the phone to accept the incoming call.
“Foster speaking.”
“Today must be your lucky day,” Black said. “Abrahams has agreed to send the chopper.”
“Is it him?” Amanda whispered.
Foster nodded his head.
Amanda motioned that she was going to leave the room.
Foster waited until the door closed behind her before turning his attention back to the sat phone. “Will we be able to fit everybody on it?”
“Should be,” Black answered. “Unless you guys have a shit ton of luggage.”
“Yeah, that won’t be a problem,” Foster said. “How long until the chopper gets to the airfield?”
“Fly boys say they can be there to pick you up this afternoon. You call once you get there and make sure the landing area is secure. And then you get on the copter. Before you know it, you’ll be on your way here. Can’t get much more straightforward and easier than that.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” Foster said. “I’m hoping it goes as easy as you said.”
“Humph. If I was you, I wouldn’t count on Mr. Murphy not making an appearance.”
“Yeah, Murphy and his damn law. He always seems to find a way to throw a wrench in things,” Foster said. “Let’s hope he’s on vacation this week.”
Black chuckled. “Yeah, let’s hope so. All right, I gotta run. Give me a call once you’re secure at the airfield.”
“You got it. Talk soon,” Foster said before disconnecting the call. He slowly stowed the sat phone back in his vest.
There was a light knock at the closed door, and then it opened almost immediately.
Charles stepped into the room. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything, but we have a bit of a situation.”
“Good timing,” Foster answered. “I just got off a call. What’s up?”
“Nick and Derrick got back an hour ago from doing another recon. They said there’s even more Guardians and Reapers patrolling the exit points for town. There’s also a Reaper outside.”
“What?”
“Relax. I t
hink it’s a messenger. Actually, I know it is.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“It arrived about five minutes ago. Walker and Sams approached it. Almost shot it immediately, to be honest. But the creature was kneeling with its hands up in the air.”
“Like the one outside the farmhouse did.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Charles said. “It’s asking for you. Nicholas thinks it might be a trap.”
“And Sams?”
“He’s leaning toward messenger.”
“Sounds like it came in peace,” Foster said. “But it can’t hurt to be cautious.”
He stepped into the living room. The air felt charged with electricity. Foster glanced at Walker and Sams. Both men had their body armor and game faces on.
“Charles told you?” Walker asked.
“Yeah. There’s no harm in erring on the side of caution.”
“Derrick and I talked it over,” Walker continued. “We think it’s best if you approach it alone. We’ll be on overwatch. The two of us will be ground level, and Lizzy will be covering long-range from the second-floor window. All of us will be on the lookout for any additional hostiles.”
“I’m surprised you’re not taking the sniper position personally. Aren’t you a better long-range shot?”
“I suggested it,” Sams answered. “But there’s no fucking way he’s putting his wife out in the open with potential hostiles if he can help it.”
“Makes sense,” Foster replied. “I don’t blame him. Listen, Black came through for us. They’re sending a chopper to pick us up this afternoon.”
“That’s great,” Sams said. “You go find out what this Reaper wants, and then send it away. We make some more silver bullets and then get out of here with plenty of time to catch our ride.”
“Sounds like a solid plan,” Foster said. “Okay, let’s do this.”
“Lizzy!” Walker shouted. “We’re going out front. We need you on second-floor overwatch.”
“I’m on it!” she yelled back. “Be careful, guys.”
The three men moved in tandem to the front door. Sams moved to one side. He motioned for Foster to stack behind him.
Foster moved into position. He watched as Walker shifted to the opposite side of the doorway. The former Ranger held up three fingers and slowly lowered one finger at a time. When his hand had transformed into a fist, Sams opened the front door, stepped out, and moved to the right. Foster stepped out the front, keeping his gun hand close to his holstered Glock. Using his peripheral vision, he saw Walker move to his left behind him. He turned his eyes onto the still kneeling Reaper about twenty yards ahead of him. Keeping his head still, Foster scanned from his left to his right, looking for any signs of a potential trap.
“Message for Fos-ter,” the creature said softly. “Message for Fos-ter.”
“You got him,” Foster answered. “Who sent you?”
“My master,” the Reaper answered. “Message is, I need your answer.”
“The answer is yes,” Foster replied. “But we have a problem. I need to meet.”
The monster’s head went down for a long, uncomfortable minute.
Foster watched as the creature slowly lifted its head and spoke robotically. “Same meeting place as before. Midnight tonight. Come alone.”
“I’ll be there,” Foster said.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
After a very long and stressful day, Joseph was feeling a bit more tired than usual. He had been stuck at the church all day long and was finally able to head home much later than usual. The worst part was he didn’t see things improving in the near future. Not with Ezekiel making a bigger push to recruit new members. Silas and the Guardians were busy hunting Foster, which had created a whole new set of unexpected problems Joseph hadn’t counted on.
Silas.
Joseph shook his head. He didn’t know what he was thinking to suggest a guy like that. And thanks to what Will had told him, Joseph was even more convinced that the new leader of the Guardians was a sociopath. He had tried to warn Ezekiel, but their esteemed leader had just blown him off. Maybe Silas was the right person to do their dirty work. He could see why Ezekiel wanted the psycho to catch Foster and his other rebels. Especially after they had killed so many of the Guardians. Even so, Ezekiel needed to be kept up to date on Silas’s actions. And that uncomfortable task was yet another one that only Joseph seemed capable of doing.
Joseph reached his door to his apartment. It wasn’t anything to brag about. Sure, Ezekiel had given him a wide range of options for his personal dwelling. Joseph had picked a basic one-bedroom apartment in a less popular part of the clan’s complex. Some men in Joseph’s position might consider the apartment to be below their own level of status. But he didn’t care. It was a place where he wouldn’t be bothered when he retired for the evening. And just as importantly, it was a place where he could indulge his own vices without interruption.
One of the other Disciples had turned up some grade-A marijuana in their scavenging efforts. Joseph, recognizing an opportunity when it showed up, had confiscated the drugs. Joseph had told the man he was taking them for the good of the congregation. The naive man seemed to accept the bullshit story. Of course, there was a chance he’d simply caved because of Joseph’s status in the church.
Joseph didn’t care. After a very long and stressful day, Joseph couldn’t wait to smoke a joint and try to forget about everything that had happened.
Joseph put his hand on the doorknob, and as he started to turn it, the door swung inward easily.
“That’s weird,” he muttered. “I didn’t think I left it unlocked.”
But he couldn’t rule it out, either. His life was insanely hectic lately. He’d even slept through his alarm this morning, which was something he would have never done before. He had been forced to throw on clothes and rush out the door. He barely made it to the chapel on time. All to avoid Ezekiel’s ire.
Of course, his boss was a complete hypocrite. The leader of their cult was almost never on time for anything. But he was quick to find fault if anyone else was late and made him wait for them. Especially Joseph.
It was dark in the apartment, and as Joseph stepped in, he reached for the light switch just inside the entranceway.
Suddenly, Joseph felt a blow to the back of his head, and he yelped in pain. A second and third blow came down on his neck and upper back, driving him to the floor. Joseph felt his body falling down, but he was powerless to stop it. His head cracked the floor hard, and then everything went black.
Joseph came to with a start. He wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious, but he immediately noticed one of the interior lights was now on in his apartment. As he strained to look from his left to right, his eyes stopped on a man sitting across from him. Joseph’s eyes began to regain focus, and he immediately recognized the uninvited visitor.
“You,” Joseph demanded. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to have a little talk,” Silas said. There was a large knife in his hands, which he appeared to be toying with. “I’ve been waiting all day to catch up with you. I hear you’ve been saying some things about me.”
If he was trying to scare Joseph, it was working.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to leave,” Joseph blurted out. “Right now.”
Silas began to softly laugh.
Joseph went to move out of the chair, and something stopped the movement. As he looked down at his right arm, he saw it had been zip-tied to the chair. He looked to his left arm and saw it was similarly bound. Joseph began to push against his bonds, struggling to try and get free.
“Oh, settle down. No need to get your derriere bent out of shape,” Silas said. “I wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to try and rush right out of here and go tattle to the boss.”
“You need to let me go,” Joseph said. “If you leave right now, I won’t tell Ezekiel a thing about this.”
Silas laughed as if he had hea
rd the funniest joke in the world. “Do you expect me to believe you? I don’t know what other shit you’ve already told Ezekiel. Real fucked-up name that is. Is that really his name?”
“I-I couldn’t say,” Joseph said. “It’s what he’s always told all of us to call him.”
“Huh. Well, it’s not like I can brag with a name like Silas,” the man muttered. “But Ezekiel isn’t here right now. So it’s time for you and me to have a little chat.”
“So what do you want to talk about?” Joseph answered with a calmness that he didn’t feel.
“Let’s start with what you’ve been saying about me. I can’t have you spreading lies and other stories.”
“But I haven’t. Everything—”
“So you admit you’ve been talking about me.”
Joseph clammed up immediately and looked away.
“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”
“What you did to that man by the gun shop was unacceptable,” Joseph countered. “That’s not how we do things around here.”
“That’s not how we do things around here,” Silas mocked. “See, that’s why you need someone like me. Somebody who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. A man who is not afraid to do things differently the way they need to be handled. So while you hide behind these walls here and drink tea with your pinky extended—”
“I never—”
“Shut up, lightweight,” Silas said, “I’m talking. Dammit, I lost my train of thought.”
“Drinking tea, boss,” a male voice said somewhere behind Joseph.
The confined man looked around wildly, trying to find the source. But he couldn’t see them in the darkened corners of his home and quickly gave up trying.
The Wretched Series | Book 4 | Wretched Aftermath Page 19