Vickers looked around the room. No one else had moved. “Meeting’s adjourned,” she ordered. “Find me something that will actually kill these bastards, not turn them into even bigger brutes.” She turned and left the room without waiting for an answer.
Vickers walked as quickly as she could back to her office. It was taking everything she had to not burst out in tears now. The last thing she needed was for her military advisors and the people on this ship to see her looking less than presidential. No, she was the Commander in Chief. And now, more than ever, her country needed her to be strong. Even if she was currently feeling like all hope was lost.
The burning had completely halted. Freed from his soldiers’ pain, Beeks rose up from his throne and seized control of the recently affected minions. He forced every one of the creatures to look around him. Each of the surrounding soldiers appeared bigger, more muscular. He forced the soldier’s eyes to look at its own limbs. They were massively muscular. Another minion stumbled into the one he was in control of. “Watch where you’re going!” Beeks blurted.
The creature turned, spun, and looked. It began to growl.
Beeks squinted. There was something different about this enhanced Reaper’s eyes. They were orange.
Beeks began to laugh aloud. The United States government had tried to kill some of his children. But in their haste to eradicate his kind, they had created a new breed of warriors for him. These Betas were an unexpected gift. And Beeks fully intended to use this gift to his complete benefit.
“Hear me now, children,” Beeks mentally ordered. “Those of you who felt the burn, find where it came from. Go now!”
“Yes, my Lord,” Hundreds of voices called out as one. Beeks watched as hundreds of Betas charged off like an enraged pack of predators. He broke the mental connection with his minions. This obviously had been some kind of attack by the humans. An attack that had backfired. And like every other failed attack by the puny humans, there would be payback.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The sound of the tires on the roadway was almost hypnotic, and Foster found himself fighting to stay awake. Last night’s meeting with Haas, combined with the early-morning escape out of town, had left him running on minimal sleep. To be honest, it had been a hellacious couple of days between battling the Reapers and the Disciples. It seemed like danger had been coming at them from every which way. But that was about to change.
In a few hours, they’d be on a helicopter and heading to Hope Island. At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder if he truly should keep his word with Haas. If this creature was telling him the truth about one King Reaper controlling them all, then killing their top dog could prevent the human race from being wiped out.
He was on the fence as to what he wanted to do. On one hand, he wanted to go with his friends to the safety that Hope Island seemed to offer. On the other, there was a sense of duty and honor that came with being a police officer. Despite the recent events, Foster had spent too many years as a cop to forget his instincts. He couldn’t forget the pledge that he had taken while becoming a police officer, either.
But then there was Amanda. Was there something there that would develop into a meaningful relationship? He wasn’t opposed to the idea. In his mind, she was beautiful, smart, and funny. Conversation with her most of the time was pretty effortless. But would things change once they got to Hope Island and the threat of imminent danger was no longer hanging over their heads? He just didn’t know. There were just too many unknowns and variables to quickly figure out. And that frustrated Foster nearly as much as the mountain of problems he felt he had to overcome.
Suddenly, there was a loud thunk, and something flew off the front vehicle. Foster felt his body lurch forward in his seat as Walker hit the brakes and the SUV came to an abrupt stop.
“The hell was that?” Foster asked.
“I don’t know,” Walker said. “Might have been a person. Or an animal.”
“Could it have been a Reaper instead?”
“I don’t know,” Walker said.
“You need to check if they’re okay,” Lizzy said. “We can’t just leave them there.”
“We don’t know what I hit,” Walker answered.
“Nicholas, don’t be an asshole,” Lizzy scolded. “If you hit somebody, you need to find out. What if the Reapers find them and turn them into one of those monsters?”
“Dammit,” Walker mumbled. He slowly pulled the vehicle over to the side, shifted the engine into park, and turned the vehicle off.
The walkie-talkie chirped. “Yo, buddy,” Sams said. “Why are we stopping?”
“I got to check on something,” Walker answered. “I might have hit a person.”
“Copy that,” Sams answered. “We’ll set up a perimeter.”
“Hon, stay inside,” Nick ordered. “Foster, you’re with me.”
“I can help,” Lizzy said.
“Yes, you can. By staying here. If it’s a person, I’ll come get you. But I’ll feel better knowing that you’re safe while we’re searching for a possible body in the dark.”
Walker and Foster slid out of the vehicle.
Foster could hear Lizzy complaining as he closed the doors.
“Let me check for the body,” Foster offered. “You stay on overwatch for any potential trouble. If we got something, I’ll call you.”
“That works,” Walker said.
Foster pulled his Glock and penlight out. He turned on the light, casting a narrow light in front of himself. He began scanning left to right, working his way to the side of the road. He didn’t have to go far until he saw a pair of legs thrashing from side to side. Foster slowly worked the light along the person’s body and toward their head.
But as the light revealed more, Foster saw it was no longer a medium-size man. The Reaper tried to lift its head up, and it flopped back awkwardly. The creature let out a weak growl. From the weird position of the monster’s head, Foster guessed it had suffered a broken neck. Left on its own, the creature might regenerate enough to restore its normal abilities. But there wasn’t any point in letting that happen. Not when it might go on to kill or turn another human.
Foster brought his Glock up, aimed carefully, and fired once, striking the wounded Reaper in the head. The creature’s legs stopped moving immediately. He lowered his Glock and retraced his steps back to the SUV.
“Problem?” Walker asked.
“You hit a Reaper,” Foster said. “It’s dead now.”
The two men climbed back in the car.
“I heard a gunshot,” Lizzy said. There was a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“Nick hit a Reaper,” Foster said. “I made sure it was dead.”
“Oh,” Lizzy said.
Walker activated his comms. “Hostile eliminated,” he said. “Ready to roll out when you are.”
“Copy that,” Sams answered. “We’ll be ready in one minute.”
The vehicle grew uncomfortably silent.
Foster heard the SUV behind them start, and a moment later Walker did the same. Foster felt the vehicle shift into gear, and it began to pull back onto the highway. He turned his attention to the passenger-side window, watching the terrain slowly pass behind them. In about forty minutes, they should reach the airport museum. He couldn’t wait to board the chopper.
Achilles felt alive as he loped along the roadway. It was liberating to be out and running. He looked to his left and then to his right. His nearly one hundred fighters were keeping up with the aggressive pace he was setting. Achilles felt his heart swell with pride. Each one of his warriors had been personally turned by him. Each one was an eager and willing fighter, ready to give their life at his command.
Lead from the front. He’d heard that phrase someplace else before, but he had never understood what it really meant. Until now. Now, he would lead his pack of fighters to wherever the lowly human Foster was hiding. And once they found him, then he’d make his master proud.
The miles were quickl
y passing as they worked their way along the roadways and through patches of open woods. Achilles wasn’t sure where exactly they were heading. Right now, it was more of a gut feeling where he thought the fugitive might be heading.
“Achilles, where are you?” Beeks’ voice blurted in his mind. The interruption immediately shattered the calmness of the moment.
“Everyone halt,” Achilles ordered. He took a few steps away from the rest of his warriors before answering Beeks’ mental message.
“I’m here, my Lord. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why does something have to be wrong?” Beeks said. “I’m calling with information.”
“Yes, Master,” Achilles said simply. “What is it?”
“Another family member crossed paths with Foster. Not far from where you’re at now.”
“Are they sure?”
“As sure as one can be before getting shot in the head. I’ve retrieved their memories. It looks like Foster. The human is wearing the same top with the distinctive word on it.”
“Po-lice?” Achilles said carefully.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Where is he?”
A visual image popped in Achilles’ mind.
“Make your way there,” Beeks ordered. “There’s a series of buildings nearby. They might be going there to hide.”
“We’ll check it out, my Lord.”
“Excellent. Oh, and Achilles?”
“Yes?”
“You didn’t say thank you. I just made your job easier.”
“Of course, Master,” Achilles said with a forced smile. “Thank you for your guidance and your help.”
“My pleasure,” Beeks answered before cutting the connection.
Achilles let out the breath that he had been holding. It wasn’t considered good form to talk badly about his master. He certainly wouldn’t do it in front of the soldiers that he commanded, but there were times where his master’s antics grew quite tiresome.
“We have a possible location nearby,” Achilles announced to his fighters. “Be on the lookout for Fos-ter or any of his friends.”
Achilles dropped to all fours and began bounding in the direction. As he did, he noticed a brown sign. He didn’t understand the words on it, but the red, white, and blue star captured his attention. Achilles lengthened his stride, and his soldiers followed suit. They were getting close. He could feel it in his gut. And once he confronted the pesky human, he’d end Foster’s life, which would please his Master immensely.
Silas tapped nervously on the dashboard. He’d called Artie twice in the last ten minutes. The retired deputy had managed to tail the pair of SUVs without drawing any attention.
Silas glanced out the window as they zipped past a brown street sign announcing some kind of upcoming tourist trap. He quietly hoped Foster was in one of those vehicles. Because if he was, then Silas would be happy to put a bullet in the guy’s head. Sure, Ezekiel might want Foster dead because he’d killed a bunch of Guardians near the marina. And now that the preacher man thought that Foster had killed his little pet Joseph, he wanted the cop even more.
But Silas had a bigger reason for wanting to eliminate the guy. Removing a loose end. A dead Foster couldn’t expose his lie about Joseph’s death. And once Foster was taken out of the picture, Silas could hunt down and kill the bitches who had humiliated him at the gun shop. The sooner it happened, the better. Then his men would have no choice but to completely respect Silas as their leader.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The SUV was quickly approaching a large brown sign. Foster studied the display a bit closer. There was a prominent red, white, and blue National Star in the one corner. The sign had large white letters that announced they were approaching the Air Mobility Command Museum.
“What is this place?” Walker asked. “I’ve never heard of it before.”
“Probably because you’re an Army grunt,” Lizzy teased. “My dad used to bring me here as a kid.”
“Huh. So how come you haven’t taken me here?”
“I thought about it,” Lizzy said. “More than once. But I haven’t been here since my father died. It was kind of our place we went together when we wanted to take a day trip away from the rest of the family.”
“Lots of security fencing,” Walker pointed out. “Is this part of Dover Air Force Base?”
“No,” Lizzy answered. “The base is a few miles from here.”
“Which means the Reapers might have completely ignored it when they attacked Dover,” Walker said. “Talk about a lucky break for us.”
“We don’t know that yet,” Foster cautioned. “But I’d say the odds are good that this place is Reaper-free.”
“Hon, what can you tell me about this place?” Walker asked.
“Lots. My dad and I visited this place so many times,” Lizzy said. “During World War II, it was known as Dover Army Airfield. Lots of top-secret rocket development. From the 1950s to the 1970s, the military had a number of different fighter squadrons that called this place home. In the 1990s, it was restored and renamed the Air Mobility Command Museum.”
“What kind of things are we going to find here?” Foster asked.
“A number of different bombers, cargo planes, tankers, and fighters. They should still have the A-26C and C-5A Galaxy. They even have an old Air Force Two.”
“Really?” Walker blurted.
“Yes. A VC-9C.”
“Damn, I wish we had come here before,” Walker said. “You know, before all of this stuff happened.”
“There’s a good chance the museum was untouched,” Foster pointed out. “The Reaper invasion started in the middle of the night. This place would have been closed then. If nobody was here, then the Reapers wouldn’t have had any reason to attack it.”
“Yeah, probably,” Walker mumbled. “But I’ll feel safer once we do a proper sweep.” He turned the steering wheel, making a right turn onto Route 9.
The vehicle grew silent as everyone retreated into their own thoughts.
Foster watched as the long row of barbed wire topped metal fencing seemed to extend far into the distance. A few minutes later, they reached a new paved driveway which featured a pair of brick pillars embracing the path. To the right of the roadway, the fencing continued. Foster noticed two signs. A small sign listed a website address. A much larger one to its right proudly announced they had reached the Air Mobility Command Museum.
Foster watched as the SUV turned left onto the roadway and continued forward. The barbed wire topped metal fencing now surrounded each side of the road.
“This is good,” Walker said. “No signs of Reaper activity. Definitely a defensible position.”
“What do you mean?” Lizzy asked.
“The fencing,” Walker answered. “Not easy for the Reapers to attack from multiple directions unless they breach the fencing. It’s a well-designed fatal funnel. No signs of a recent battle. This place might actually be Reaper-free.”
“I sure hope so,” Lizzy said softly.
Artie Wilkerson had followed the SUVs for miles. As luck would have it, they didn’t seem to notice his hybrid blue Prius tailing them from a block distance. In the past, there would have been far too many other vehicles on the roadways to hang back so far on a tail. But now, there were very few drivers on the roads anymore. He missed his old squad car. That Dodge Charger had some serious muscle under the hood. But he was retired now. He didn’t need something that he could jam the pedal down and go balls out fast on demand. He needed something that got great gas mileage and was cheap to drive instead. Sure, he’d heard some of the other men snicker about his Prius. Artie chose to ignore them. Thanks to the Reapers, a lot of the supply chains had been disrupted. Some of them might be broken for good. Six months from now, gasoline was going to be pretty hard to find. Those naysayers would be complaining about how hard it was to find enough fuel to keep their gas guzzlers running. And Artie? Well, he’d just smile before heading off somewhere in his Prius.
Wilkerson drove past the entrance to the Air Mobility Command Museum and continued for another quarter mile. He came to a stop and checked his rearview mirror. Satisfied that no one was following him, he did a careful three-point turn. Once he managed to turn the Prius around, he pulled to the side of the road so he could watch the museum’s entrance. Wilkerson pulled out his cell phone and hit redial. The phone rang twice, and then he heard someone answer.
“Silas,” the Guardian leader said.
“They turned off,” Wilkerson replied. “I’m outside the entrance of the Air Mobility Command Museum.”
“You’re not following them anymore?”
“Relax,” Wilkerson answered. “There’s only one way in or out of that place.”
“Good,” Silas answered. “We’re a few minutes out. Call me if anything changes.”
“Okay, will do. Listen, if you need my help, then—”
There was a loud beeping sound. Wilkerson stopped talking and looked at his phone. The display was showing the call had ended. Wilkerson frowned. Silas had hung up on him while he was still talking. Maybe his wife was right when she had said the guy was a bona-fide prick. But Artie had dealt with plenty of people who were jerks when he worked in law enforcement. And if dealing with one like Silas kept him and his wife safe from the Reapers, then he was willing to smile politely and eat whatever shit sandwich Silas handed him for now.
Chapter Fifty
The SUV pulled into a parking lot and came to a stop. An Air Force T-33 plane was parked on top of a sign that announced they had reached the Air Mobility Command Museum.
“How far from the turnoff?” Foster asked.
Lizzy snorted. “What makes you think Nick measured the distance—”
“Unless the odometer is off,” Walker reported, “about seven tenths of a mile.”
“Are you serious?” Lizzy stammered.
The Wretched Series | Book 4 | Wretched Aftermath Page 23