Before the Reaper outbreak, Vasquez’s unit was part of the Vermont Air National Guard 158th Fighter Wing stationed at the Burlington Air National Guard Base. Most of the time, there hadn’t been much to do besides operational paperwork and training exercises to try and stay sharp. Since then, they’d become an active part of the United States Air Force by order of the President of the United States. It was a dramatic shift in routine, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was loving every minute of the war that had shown up on their doorsteps. She felt like she was on top of the world when she was inside the cockpit of her F-35. Especially those times where she could drop the hammer down and push her baby toward its top speed of Mach 1.6. Traveling at nearly 1,200 miles per hour, it absolutely challenged her to use every reflex, skill, and instinct she had as a fighter jock.
She was approximately two miles away from the base, and there was still a jaw-dropping amount of monsters heading toward Fort Devens. Vasquez fired her last pair of air-to-surface missiles and watched them smash into the middle of the Reaper pack. A moment later, there was a blinding flash of light, and a shockwave leveled dozens of Reapers that had been caught in its path. A huge cloud of debris, dust, and smoke rose upward, but the F-35, moving more than seven hundred miles per hour, had long passed it.
Vasquez prepared to bank left and come back for another pass when an alert sounded out. A split second later, a second one began going off, too. She glanced at the corner of her helmet screen, turned off both alarms, and swore softly under her breath. She was out of munitions and low on fuel too. She had no choice but bow out of the fight and return to base.
The comms in her helmet came alive. “Green Mountain Boy Seven, come in.”
“You got her,” Vasquez replied.
“Any chance you can pin the ears back on some more of these varmints for us?”
“No can do. I’m down to spitting at the enemies, and I’m on bingo fuel,” Vasquez said. “I’m not sure if spitting will hurt them at all, but I’m willing to give it a shot. But unless you boys want to carry my plane back to base, you’re gonna have to keep up the good fight without me for a little while.”
“Roger, bingo fuel and Winchester ammo. We’re a little too busy to lug your air chariot back to Vermont right now. But we’d really appreciate it if you can hurry back and lend us a hand again.”
“I’ll do my best. Keep up the good fight, Army.”
“Will do. Thanks again, Mountain Boy Seven.”
Vasquez took the F-35 up another four thousand feet in altitude, dropped the hammer, and the plane immediately responded. She took it to Mach 1.2 and held the speed constant. There was no point in taxing her plane any more than being in the air for nearly half of a day had already done. At her current speed, she’d reach base in a matter of minutes. Once she landed, they’d rearm and refuel her plane. She’d lobby to be allowed to jump right back into action, but she doubted she’d get permission. Her commander would likely point out that Vasquez was already four hours over her maximum flight time and ground her until she got some long overdue rest. Vasquez said a silent prayer that Devers could hold out until she or one of her squadmates could return to provide some much needed air support.
Chapter Ten
The radio was playing softly in the background, and Amanda sat quietly, deep in her own thoughts. She glanced over at Charles and saw the older man was still focused on the road ahead. She liked him, but sometimes it was difficult to find things they had in common. Amanda mentally scolded herself. There were far worse people she could be stuck with in a moving vehicle than Charles.
She turned her attention back inward. The whole situation with Malcolm was confusing to her. On one hand, it was something new and exciting. Heaven knows, it had been far too long since she had a man who truly captured her attention and held her interest. Amanda blamed it on her work. The long hours and the hectic work of being an emergency room physician were definitely a big reason for her lack of a love life.
But if she was truly being honest with herself, that wasn’t the whole truth. Amanda often hid behind her work because she was uncomfortable talking with most men. The fact of the matter was a good number of men she met were more focused on her appearance or the shapeliness of her body than her brains. The brains were definitely an issue for some guys. She could tell pretty quickly the ones who were intimidated by a smart woman. Some of them didn’t even try to hide that they didn’t like talking to someone as intelligent as her.
Amanda couldn’t help the fact that she was extremely bright. She’d graduated from medical school with honors. And let's face it, you don't get into med school and graduate from medical school by being a moron. But all that seemed to change with Foster. Malcolm seemed comfortable in his own skin. He treated her and talked to her like she was an equal. He had a way of making everyone feel like they belonged in their group.
Which was pretty amazing in the first place. Just when the world seemed to come crashing down unexpectedly, a group of people somehow had found a way to come together and work smoothly. Maybe it was the collective need to survive. It was a strange type of friendship between all of them. But there was no mistaking the bonds that had formed. Each person in their group eagerly looked out for each other, even if meant making personal sacrifices along the way.
With Malcolm, she couldn't help but feel conflicted. He'd been distancing himself from her ever since the sewers. She still wasn't sure why she kissed him. Was it the stress and the emotion of being rescued? Or was it something more?
Her head kept telling her that she’d overreacted and grabbed onto the first available guy. But her heart was saying something else. That maybe this could be something more. Of course, the timing was absolutely terrible. They were in the middle of the fight of their lives. These creatures were attacking and killing millions of people. Every time they turned around, even more monsters were popping up.
The idea of starting a new romance while all of them were fighting to stay alive seemed like crazy talk. But for every single reason that her head could provide for why she shouldn’t be thinking about love right now, her heart kept giving just as many rebuttals. Amanda wasn't sure what to do. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so confused about something in her life. And this confusion was the very reason she had to make a very important decision. For now, she wasn't going to pursue anything with Malcolm. There were more important things to worry about right now than what might make her heart happiest.
“My Lord,” Malice thought carefully. He had noticed his master seemed to be quicker to anger lately, and he didn’t want to upset him if he could avoid it.
“Yes?” Beeks mentally sneered. “What is it?”
“We have reached the rest stop as ordered. There is no sign of Fos-ter anywhere.”
“What? Nothing?”
“Master, there are signs they may have been here. There are machines which have been broken open and smell like they once contained food. There are bodies of some of our soldiers here. I see a trail of tire marks leading away from here.”
“Which way do they head?”
“It appears to be away from our den and toward several small towns.”
Beeks thought over what Malice was telling him. His elite soldier was currently south of Beeks’s current position. If he were to head further south, he’d likely reach several beach resort towns in a matter of hours. Of course, the tire tracks could be a decoy. It was possible Foster was still in the area. Beeks wrung his hands in anxiety. He felt a headache slowly creeping forward from the back of his head.
“I want you to hold the position,” Beeks said, “in case Foster or any of his group circled back there.”
“Are you sure? The tracks lead-”
“That is all for now,” Beeks said.
“Y-Yes, my Lord.”
Beeks severed the mental connection with Malice and reached out to Achilles.
“Achilles, where are you?” Beeks mentally sent.
“We have passed the
rest stop where Malice and his soldiers are,” Achilles said. “He had warned me to stay away while he hunted Fos-ter. I thought it better to avoid a confrontation with my packmate and search the surrounding areas instead.”
Beeks silently seethed. That wasn't what he had told either of his top commanders to do. He would have to bring this up with Malice. It was unacceptable to have him overruling Beeks’s direct commands.
“You probably made the right call,” Beeks said carefully. “In the future, please tell me if Malice gives you a different command than what I have given you.”
“Of course, my liege.”
“Are there any signs of Foster? Or this other pack?”
“No, my Lord, but we are nearing a town. There are signs here.”
“Show me.”
A mental image flashed in front of Beeks of what Achilles could see. The sign said: ‘WELCOME TO REHOBOTH BEACH’.
“Good. Search the town for Foster and this other group. Report back to me your findings. If you don't find anything in that town, then check the next town. Keep looking until you find one of them. I know either Foster or this other group has to be in the area.”
“Yes, my Lord. As you command.”
Chapter Eleven
Ezekiel Morgan brought his hands together in a final prayer motion. Inside the Disciples of the Divine chapel, his congregation let out a rousing cheer and began applauding eagerly on cue. He nodded and made what he thought would seem like a solemn gesture. Ezekiel slowly backed away from the altar, turned, and headed through the curtains. As the fabric closed behind him, he moved toward a small flight of stairs that were partially hidden from view. He quickly made his way back to his private chambers. He had formed this cult several years ago and it’s membership had positively exploded since the Reaper outbreak had begun.
As he approached the remaining door between the hallway and his private sanctuary, he spotted a man standing outside the door.
“Has anyone gone in there?” He asked his most trusted guardian.
“No, my grace,” Joseph answered. “Everyone else is still in the chapel. None of our followers wanted to risk missing your sermon.”
“Excellent,” Ezekiel said. “I’m afraid the sermon took a bit more out of me than I expected. I’d like to rest in my office. Please see that no one is allowed to disturb me.”
“Of course,” Joseph said. He bowed deeply and opened the door to the inner sanctum. He stepped to the side and let the pastor enter his private chambers.
Ezekiel made a beeline for his desk and flopped into the chair behind it. He glanced at the door and saw Joseph was still standing there. Ezekiel mentally counted to twenty, waiting to see if Joseph would leave or speak up. As his loyal subject continued to stand silently in the doorway to his study, he finally blurted out, “Yes. What is it?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you while you are in your study.” Joseph swallowed deeply before continuing. “We've had an incident.”
“What kind of incident?”
“One of our congregation was attacked outside of town.”
“What? Who?”
“Gerald and his family.”
“What happened?”
“They had a flat tire,” Joseph said. “Gerald was attacked and killed by a Reaper.”
“That's impossible. They’re lying.”
“That was my initial thought, too,” Joseph said carefully. “But I've questioned his widow and children extensively. I believe they are being truthful.”
“This isn't supposed to happen,” Ezekiel stammered. “The lord has promised us protection.”
“I know that, sir,” Joseph said. “The thing is, Gerald’s family may have been killed too if it wasn't for another group of humans intervening.”
“What?”
“There were six of them, led by a police officer.”
“A cop?”
“Yes, that's right. After they killed the Reapers, the police officer changed their tire and sent them on their way.”
“What did she tell them?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I asked her more than once,” Joseph said. “All they did was change a tire. They did offer to travel with her to make sure that she got back here safely.”
“What'd she say?”
“She told them no, thank you. And they listened. It would appear.”
“This is not good,” Ezekiel said. “I want increased security in town. Keep an eye out for any newcomers, especially this cop. Can she describe him?”
“Yes, sir. I wrote it down here for you.” Joseph handed Ezekiel a piece of paper.
Ezekiel glanced at it and said, “Sounds pretty standard for a police officer.”
“Yes, that's right. But these men had assault rifles.”
“Interesting. Well, thank you for bringing this to my attention, Joseph. I will get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”
“Are you going to talk with him?” Joseph asked carefully.
“Well, of course,” Ezekiel said smoothly. “The Lord has tasked me to talk directly with these things by providing one who is able to communicate with me.”
Joseph stared blankly at the floor.
“Don’t worry, Joseph. I will fix this. I promise. Do your best to keep our followers calm, ease their minds that we still offer safe passage here against the evils of the world.”
“I-I can do that, sir.”
“Excellent,” Ezekiel said. He clapped his hands together for emphasis. “Now, if you don't mind, Joseph, I have some things I need to take care of. If you could see yourself out.”
“Of course, sir.”
Chapter Twelve
Beeks sat on his throne, fighting a growing sense of boredom. It was probably his own fault that he had nothing to do besides manage his growing empire. It had only been a few days ago when he was on the front lines, transforming or feeding off humans. But now, with the millions of soldiers at his beckon call, he no longer needed to do any of those things. For somebody who was used to being an action taker, the transition to glorified coach potato was not an easy one to embrace.
There was a commotion by the entrance to his throne room, and he saw his two guards steps forward and block someone from entering. Beeks looked to see who it was.
“Let him in,” Beeks growled.
His guards immediately parted, letting a filthy-looking Achilles stagger into the room. The soldier was absolutely covered in dirt and blood from head to toes. His clothes were in shambles, but the soldier didn’t seem to notice as he immediately dropped down to one knee to report.
“What is it?” Beeks said.
“I have come to report my findings, my Lord,” Achilles said in a series of growls and snarls. “I could not find Fos-ter. But I found something else which I believe my Lord would want to know. There are others who are like you.”
“What? Tell me more.”
“T-They are not far from here,” Achilles stammered. “I believe their pack is much smaller than ours.”
“How do you know they aren’t part of our family?”
“When I tried to approach them, they did not respond to my calls. They chose to attack us. It wasn’t easy, but my packmates and I were able to escape and make our way back here.”
“Were you followed?”
“I-I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think? Or you know?”
“I’m sure of it, master,” Achilles said. “As soon as I left their territory, they didn’t pursue me.”
“Where are they?”
“They appear to have settled south of here.”
“This is taking too long,” Beeks said impatiently. “Hold still.” He mentally reached out and accessed his soldier’s mind. Beeks began to review what Achilles had seen. His soldier immediately stiffened under his mental probing.
There had been another pack which had prevented Achilles and his soldiers from entering a town. Interesting. They had acted lik
e a border patrol and not a pack of territorial, mindless animals. Very interesting indeed. Beeks continued looking through his loyal soldier's mind, taking care to review each mental image like it was a delicate photo. When he was finished, Beeks slowly mentally retreated from Achilles' mind. As he did, the minion’s body began to relax.
Achilles had spoken the truth. The soldier hadn’t seen any sign of Foster. It didn’t mean the pesky human was dead or no longer in the area. As Beeks was painfully aware, many of his minions were easily distracted and often needed more than one reminder about what their mission was. Beeks glanced through the images he had found in the soldier’s mind once more. Achilles hadn’t managed to spot any other Alphas, either. Once again, it didn’t mean there wasn’t one in the area. Beeks was definitely feeling a bit confused. The behavior of this other pack was very unusual. The most likely reason was that they were following the directive of their Alpha. But why would their Alpha simply tell their soldiers to repel intruders and not kill them?
If there was another red eye in the area, it might be someone Beeks already knew. A name rose from the depths of his memory. Dwayne Haas. The man was nearly as large as Beeks himself. He had acted as a bodyguard for a smaller inmate. Some nerd that Haas had decided to protect from the rest of the inmates. Giles. That was the geek’s name. They had both been in the same prison with him. He had seen both of them strapped to a table at Bergstrom Biogenics. They could have escaped, too.
Would the two of them have decided to partner up together? It was possible, but Beeks found it hard to believe. Especially with the powers that you gained as a red-eyed Alpha. Why would you ever want to share your place at the top of your own pack with anyone else?
Beeks felt a wave of anxiety come over him, and his throat began to tighten. What if the two of them were planning to make a move against him? What if they were hiding out someplace, scheming on how they could overthrow Beeks and take over his family?
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