Juggernaut (Humanity's Hope Book 2)

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Juggernaut (Humanity's Hope Book 2) Page 23

by Greg P. Ferrell


  Hunter looked up from the floor and watched as Morgan’s limp body fell to the ground. He had long since lost his flashlight and couldn’t see what had caused the vampire to disappear from his sight, but that was not important at the moment, as his only concern was to get to Morgan and check on her.

  He slipped over to the motionless body and scooped her into his arms, trying to wake her up, when he heard a roar familiar to him in the darkness.

  Franky had returned.

  Wylan was peeling himself out of the indention in the wall when he was again savagely attacked. A huge fist pounded repeatedly into his chest, driving him back into the spot he just tried to remove himself from. After six blows, he felt his ribs breaking, and then the cinderblock wall gave way, and he crashed completely through and into the long hallway. Unaware of what was even attacking him, he decided this was his best opportunity to flee, and he did, disappearing out the main door and into the night faster than a human eye could follow.

  Hunter remained on the floor, trying to get Morgan to wake up when he was joined by the hulking creature they knew as Franky. “Is master good?”

  Hunter ignored the juggernaut as he was concentrating all his attention on his fallen friend. He laid Morgan out flat and prepared her to receive C.P.R., when, unexpectedly, she let out a large gasp for air. Hunter relaxed as he saw her start to breathe and slowly open her eyes. “Oh, thank God. I wasn’t even sure how to do mouth to mouth,” he said as he slumped down next to her on the floor.

  Hope walked over to her friends and sat down next to them, completely drenched in sweat from her fight and gasping to catch her breath. Almost absentmindedly, she began to fondle the petrified heart in her hand. “I got me a souvenir this time.” She held it up for Hunter to see.

  Franky stared at the trio on the floor as if he didn’t understand what they were doing, but he figured he should join them and took a seat next to them.

  “Franky, you are now, hands down, my favorite monster of all time,” Hope said as he joined them.

  Franky looked at her, not sure what to say. “Funny hair helped deer,” was his only comeback, which caused all three of the others to break out laughing.

  Chapter 45

  Kane stood at his window, retracing his actions to make sure he couldn’t be linked to the tragedy that had befallen Rowland, and he was quite sure that all had gone as planned.

  He was currently awaiting the summons that all was ready for a meeting of the Council to discuss the situation they found themselves in. As he waited, he realized that lately his mind had been drifting a lot to the past. His mind took the wondering as a cue to do so once more….

  The year was 1963, and he was staying in a hotel across the street from the Dallas Market Center. It was almost 12:30 in the afternoon on this beautiful fall day, yet the room was completely darkened from any encroaching sunlight, with the only illumination coming from a television. He was joined by his loyal consort Tovas, as they were waiting patiently for a phone call.

  Tovas was sitting near the television, reading a book by its light, while Kane sat patiently near the phone, staring off into the darkness.

  Tovas put his book down and broke the silence. “Master, I’m interested in the end result of this plan. Do you really think this will allow us to finally gain a foothold in the realm of American politics?”

  “At this moment, I’m less worried about infiltrating their ranks so much as making a statement to the other groups we have a foothold in. These Americans have become a bigger nuisance than we were prepared to deal with. They are starting to infect other parts of the world with their democratic ways, and to the point it’s interfering in our long-term plans. Had they not interfered in the last Great War, we could be so far advanced in our plans that they wouldn’t be relevant at all. With this action, it will make a statement that we can get anybody, anywhere, and at any time.”

  “Are you sure the men you tasked with this are competent to pull it off?” Tovas asked.

  “I’m fairly confident in their abilities. They were handpicked by Eva based on their qualifications and unique social issues, which would have lead them to do this even if we hadn’t nudged it along. It will work, and that insulting worm will finally understand what it means to disrespect me. I had thought after the warning we sent by killing his ex-mistress, he would’ve been more eager to talk, but he remained steadfast against our agenda.”

  The phone sitting next to Kane started to ring.

  Then it rang again.

  And again.

  Silence.

  Kane glanced at the phone. “It’s done. Let’s retire for the remainder of the day, and we’ll see what fallout we have come evening.” Kane got up and moved to the bedroom.

  “I’m going to finish this book and then join you,” Tovas said. “I just read that one of his favorite poems was also one of yours, Ulysses, by Tennyson.”

  Kane took to bed and started to let the poem run through his head, speaking only the last lines out loud before closing his eyes. “‘Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.’”

  Approaching footsteps coming from the elevator snapped Kane out of his thoughts, told him the time of the gathering was upon him.

  He turned and met the arriving visitor at the door and found Heng the one who’d come to get him. “Why are you the one to arrive, and not one of the consorts?”

  “With Antony and Wylan out on-mission, I’m alone. And so are you. So, I figured we would walk in together, as we have done many times over the years.” Heng extended his arm for Kane.

  As Kane and Heng arrived at the meeting room, they finished their small talk and attended to their colored robes, making sure they were in order before making their entrance. The room was set to the standard they had used so often over the years, except for under the most extreme of circumstances, with the tables in a triangular pattern.

  Kane noticed there were more chairs covered by the ominous black cloths than ever before. He paused as he passed the chair that Tovas would normally have been seated, and then once more at the newly-covered chair of Rowland’s. Once he took his place at the head of the table, he motioned for everyone to take their seats.

  “My brothers, we’re here to discuss the tragic situation that has befallen one of our own last night, and to come to a suitable response, if we should choose to have one. I will now open the floor to any who wish to speak.”

  Byron immediately took to his feet. “I want to know where this Miller is, and why we haven’t been able to find him? His disappearance, timed with the loss of my master is no mere coincidence. I want him found and put to death for his action, and since it was my master who was taken from me, I insist that I be the one to do it.”

  His remarks were then echoed by many others, all claiming it their right to render judgement on President Miller. That tended to be the only item they could all agree upon, though, as every effort made by Kane to change the subject was repeatedly ignored, and they returned to the discussion of revenge. Kane could see that the emotions were too high to discuss anything else, so he finally changed tactics to see how far he could push them.

  “My brothers, we all desire the chance for revenge. I agree something must be done, and soon. I say we go out and search ourselves for the traitorous Miller and bring him in, and if anybody else is out tonight after the imposed curfew, we teach them why it was imposed on them in the first place. We have spent too many years living a civil lifestyle, having our meals brought and prepared for us; I, myself, desire to hunt once again. What do you all say?” Kane revealed his true face to those gathered before him.

  One by one they all stood and echoed his opinion, revealing their true face as they did. Before long, they were all standing and roaring into the air their desire for blood and revenge.

  “Then we are united. Let’s revel in our ownership of the night, and go out in s
earch of the murderer, and in the process, teach the remaining humans where their true fears should lie. Not in the undead scourge they ran from to get here, but the true masters of the night. We Neteru hunt again.” Kane walked over to a large window and shattered it with his fist. He was the first to go out the window, sinking his elongated claws into the concrete as he descended the wall to the street below.

  One by one they all exited the same way, and before long, they were running through the streets grabbing any unfortunate soul foolish enough to be caught out in the dark.

  Chapter 46

  A series of explosions went off inside the last tall building at the far end of the block. Hutch watched as the front of the building crumbled into the street, followed closely by the rear of the building giving way and succumbing to gravity.

  A large cloud of dust and debris shot through the streets, eventually making its way, in a diminished state, to Hutch’s vantage point. He smiled as the dust began to settle, and he saw the street blocked with the fallen building crushing everything that had been in front of it. He looked at his watch and waited for the second timed explosion to go off. The wait was brief, as the explosion went off as planned in the building next to the one he was standing on. His placements of the charges were nearly perfect as the building fell exactly in the direction he’d intended, and it sealed off the opposite side of the town’s center, creating a sealed tomb for all inside the several block area.

  He smiled again.

  The plan was going off flawlessly, as he had now trapped the majority of the slabs in the area in between the two fallen buildings, giving them nowhere to escape.

  However, he wasn’t done yet.

  He looked down at his watch again, and he looked on as the timer hit its next planned mark. Gazing up through the smoke and dust, he watched as an entire series of explosions simultaneously went off down the entire block of remaining buildings. One by one the structures collapsed into the center of the contained area, reducing the entire downtown district into one large pile of rubble.

  Then he was rocked again as the opposite side of the street exploded inwards, dropping those building as well.

  With debris and dust flying from every direction, Hutch had no choice but to take cover as he was pelted from the forced movement of air as each building bit the dust. His only option for cover was to lay down at the roof’s edge and let the projectiles fly overhead. It took several minutes for all the buildings to finish their descent into the pile, and once the wind quit rushing over him, he finally stood back up to see what he had created.

  It took more than an hour for the dust to settle down enough to allow him to get a good look at his handiwork. As he started to get a glimpse of the area, he was amazed at what over three hundred pounds of C-4, and other various explosives could do if they were put in the right place. Only one building was still partially standing, and the former skyline of Fargo was no more.

  The former tallest building in town was a hotel at a little over two hundred feet, but was then a pile of rubble no more than fifty feet. In fact, the eight-story building that he was standing on was now the tallest object in Fargo.

  He grabbed a pair of binoculars and scanned the area for any signs of movement, but didn’t find anything. Every slab down there was now buried under millions of pounds of concrete and steel, and was no longer a threat to any human. He looked out into the distance in other directions to find only a few stragglers that either hadn’t made it to the downtown area or had wandered off before the fireworks had started. He quickly dropped them with his rifle before he decided to take a ride around the city to see if he was as effective as he’d hoped in ridding at least one city of the scourge of the undead. He walked back over to pick up his gear and was about to throw his repelling rope over the side, when he heard a sound he didn’t want to hear.

  The pin being pulled on his trip wire, at the top of the stairs leading to the roof, was a distinct sound. He dropped the rope onto the roof’s edge and covered himself just as the claymore he had waiting in the stairway went boom. The door to the roof blew off and narrowly missed him as it flew past and over the edge of the building. He pulled out his handgun and faced the now open entrance and waited to see if anything had survived the blast. As he waited, holding his aim on the door, he felt a shudder in the rooftop below his feet. He looked down just as the rooftop buckled and opened up, dropping him through it. He landed hard on the floor below him and was then showered with the debris coming in after. He covered up as the debris hit him and knocked his lucky hat off his top, causing his bald head to receive several cuts in the process.

  He rolled out of the way and looked for the gun he had dropped as he landed and found it had been buried under the falling rubble. Then he heard a sound behind him and turned to see what else could go wrong. He was quickly educated, as the entire floor was filled with slabs, and they were fully aware of his presence.

  Even if he had his gun, it would have been pointless, since he didn’t have enough bullets for what he was looking at. There were over fifty slabs staring at him, trying to get a bearing on what had just fallen into their laps. Then one by one they all came to the same realization, food had just been delivered.

  They started to advance on Hutch as he looked for any possible route of escape. He saw nothing in front of him, and the only thing behind was an eight-story drop out of a window. Faced with an impossible choice, Hutch did the only thing he knew how to do—go down fighting.

  He pulled out his knife and steadied himself as the first wave of slabs arrived.

  He went to work, stabbing into their heads as fast and as hard as he could, dropping them one by one and trying to hold his ground to keep from losing any maneuverability.

  As the bodies started to pile in front of him, it created a small obstacle that the others had to navigate through, which slowed them down enough to allow him to successfully keep up his attack. Eventually, though, he had to cede ground to them, a foot at a time, which was pushing him backwards toward the window facing the rear alley of the building.

  As he steadily got pushed back to where he could see out the window, he looked out and saw that he was directly above the dumpster that he had hid his van beside, but it was still too far up to survive if he were to try and jump. He looked down at his knife hand and it was bleeding badly from the repeated stabbing and slashing, and he was almost pinned against a wall with nowhere to go.

  He knew he didn’t want to go out from the teeth in front of him and figured he might as well not give them a free meal. He took one last stab with his knife and turned to jump through the window.

  As he kicked through the glass and was about to make his leap, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. His rappelling rope had somehow fallen over the side of the building and was just to the side of the window. He reached over and grabbed the rope, pulling it to him. As he swung it around his waist and leaped free of the window, he got an unwanted passenger coming along for the ride. A slab had managed to grab hold of him and was clawing and biting away, completely unaware they were hanging almost eighty feet in the air.

  The extra weight was causing the rope to burn through his hand and around his waist. Hutch tried everything to get the slab off, but its grip was tighter than his on the rope. They were falling slower than if he didn’t have the rope, but not by much. Hutch reached down with his free hand and beat on the slab, trying to get him off. He got his arm a little too close to the slab’s face and felt something he hoped he would never feel, the bite of a slab on his forearm. The shock of the bite gave him a surge of strength, and he finally freed himself from its clutches and watched as it fell the remaining forty feet to the ground, crashing into the dumpster below.

  With the extra weight now gone, Hutch was finally able to slow his descent, and he came to an abrupt stop about twenty feet from the bottom. He wanted to look at the bite mark, but he was too twisted in the hastily reacquired rope.

  He went to switch hands, but had for
gotten about the injuries sustained from riding up on his blade before he’d taken his leap of faith. As the injured hand grabbed hold of the rope, the ensuing sharp pain caused him to let go completely, and he completed the journey the last twenty feet down without the safety of the rope. He landed hard atop the garbage dumpster and tried to roll off of it as he did, but, instead, he bounced right into the rear doors of his armored van. He hit his head hard and instantly started to lose consciousness. The last thing he remembered was reaching into his pocket to pull out the keys and found that he was too far from the front door to do anything with them. As darkness enveloped him, he saw four slabs climbing out of the opening he’d used earlier to get into the building.

  “That’s how they got in,” was the last thing he said.

  Chapter 47

  Wylan rushed through the thick Rocky Mountain forest trying to get back to his vehicle parked near the Denver Airport.

  As he finally made it to the open road, he stopped for a minute and surveyed the healing process to his body. Most of his ribs that were broken had already reseated themselves back into place, and the burning from the salt-laced bullet had also finally stopped, as well as all the puncture wounds from the knife attack. He looked ahead in the distance and saw that the two guards they’d left to watch the vehicles were still standing their post.

  He burst back into running and covered the distance in short order. As he approached, he started yelling for one of them to get him the satellite phone while he sat on the back bumper of the truck to allow his body to finish healing. One of the guards returned with the phone, and Wylan snatched it and immediately started to dial a number.

  It took seven rings before it was answered by a familiar voice. “Master, this is Wylan. We’ve made contact with the targets, and there have been some unfortunate losses.”

 

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