by Carver Pike
Figments of Fear
The Edge of Reflection Book 2
By: Carver Pike
Figments of Fear, The Edge of Reflection Book 2
4th Edition
Copyright © 2016 by Carver Pike
Published by Erotic Mayberry Publishing
Written by Carver Pike
Cover created by Carver Pike
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Dedication
Hi guys! Before thanking everyone I just want to give a fair warning. If you’re used to my erotica stuff, this is not erotica. It’s dark fantasy (dark urban fantasy I guess, minus the sparkly vampires and werewolves) with some very graphic sex and lots of violence.
That said, I dedicate this book…
To my family. I finally have my own office now and I know I’m in there a lot, so thank you for understanding that I’m really trying to make a go at this. I love you guys. It’s also kinda cool that my wife sat next to me and helped me pick the images (and font colors) for the book covers. Isn’t that the sweetest!
Also, thank you to my friends, readers, and fans who not only read and review my books, but also share and help spread the word. That all means so much. Thank you to my street team for always pimping my work. Love you guys too!
I’d like to thank a few special people by name here in this book. First, I’d like to thank my PA, Kendall, for keeping me focused and on the straight and narrow. I know I’m a pain in the ass and I’m always on the go, but you handle me so well. I know how much you want to help me and that means a lot. It really does.
Thank you to Maureen Goodwin for reading this book, being passionate about it, and always giving me great advice about it. It was Maureen’s idea to break the series up into smaller parts so the larger novels wouldn’t intimidate readers not looking for a gigantic epic story.
Thanks to Chrisstine Hague Pearce for taking the time to read my book and get so excited about it that she started searching the Internet for the best photos to turn into teasers. Thank you for that.
Also, thanks to Delaney Foster, for buying copies of my book just to give them away to people and help spread the word. You rock!
If I didn’t thank you here, it’s not because I’ve forgotten, it’s because this could go on forever. It would be a hundred page dedication. So many people help me out on a daily basis. The ones I mentioned by name have had a lot to do with this specific book. Thank you, everyone, for all you do!
Chapter 1 – Suicide Mission
The soot-filled air swirled around the train tracks as the locomotive pressed on towards its final destination. The tracks would end at Los Diablos, the mirror image of New Jersey, a place where there were no roads and off-roading meant walking since most people didn’t own vehicles.
Where the tracks ended, a large barricade was set up, complete with orange hazard signs, scrap metal, and sandbags. The train could easily barrel through the poorly thrown together dead end, but then it would plummet over the edge of the rocky cliff that lay beyond.
Certain death awaited any conductor foolish enough to try to travel past Los Diablos. Conductor was no fool. The train slowed down and screeched to a final halt a few feet from the barricade.
The terrain was copper in color, and Gabe thought it was what Mars always looks like in science fiction movies. The dirt was grainy, like the consistency of the dirt in an anthill.
Funnel shaped, jagged rocks grew up out of the ground. Hot steam spouted up from the vents at the top of the small, three-foot-high volcanoes placed sporadically across the ground.
Dark mountains set up the backdrop, far off in the distance. There were no trees, no vegetation, and no evidence that there had ever been any in the area.
Gabe and the others exited the train looking exhausted, but optimistic. This hadn’t been an easy journey so far. Attacked by someone or some…thing at nearly every turn made Gabe wonder if this was all for nothing. Still, they’d set out on a mission, and he couldn’t stop until he’d tracked down Cutter, his evil mirror image.
Misery set in as soon as Gabe and his friends took one look at the dreadful scenery around them. Conductor stepped out of the front car carrying a shotgun. Gabe wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“It’s so humid,” Lisa complained.
“Worse than LA,” Sergio added. “Dios mio.”
“Mind if me be comin’ with Yees?” Conductor asked.
Gabe stared at the man’s shotgun. He knew they would need all the support they could get, but he also knew that Conductor was an image and may possibly be interested in the bounty on his head.
He glanced over at Lisa to see what she thought about it. She didn’t say a word so he turned his attention to Dozier, the one person he knew would speak his mind, whether he liked it or not.
“He’s an image,” Dozier said as he shrugged his shoulders.
Language rolled her eyes and looked somewhat hurt by Dozier’s remark.
“It’s dangerous where we’re going,” Gabe informed him.
“Isa dangerous where ye are. Me can’t stay here by me lonesome and me ain’t goin’ back withan da track alls broken an ‘em maniacs a waitin’ for yees,” Conductor replied.
Gabe was amazed that he’d seemed to pick up on Conductor’s speech pattern. He wasn’t nearly as confused as he’d been in the beginning. T-Nate leaned over and whispered in Gabe’s ear.
“Don’t know what the fuck he just said, but if you’re thinkin’ of bringin’ him along, remember that there’s a bounty on your head, and he could be one rich son of a bitch if he collected it.”
Either Conductor had incredible hearing, or he was a mind reader, because he held his shotgun up high and stamped his foot in anger.
“Yees afraida I’s might be wantin’ a killin’ a one a yees? ‘Em maniacs back ana tracks a been searchin’ fur sumpin’ ana I’s bettin’ I’s know whatsa is.”
He held his shotgun out with one hand and pointed it at Gabe. “Isa that fella ‘er. Bounty, big royce a collection on ‘er head, hah?”
He shook his head and stamped his foot once more.
“I’s donna need ‘en royce. I’sa charge for da train, buts royce no good fur the likes a me. No good atall. I’s help yees ‘cause I’s ain’t got anuthin’ else ta do.”
T-Nate looked over at Gabe, completely confused.
“He’s not interested in the money,” Gabe informed him. “He said that he’ll help us because he has nothing else to do.”
Conductor laughed aloud. “An fur adventure!” he cheered.
“We’re going to the Slums,” Gabe said.
“Me figured it cause ‘er ain’t nothin’ here, but death,” Conductor replied.
Dozier pointed at Conductor’s shotgun.
“You know how
to use that thing?” he asked.
“Well I ain’t buy at ‘er train. I took it! If ye know what me mean.”
Dozier laughed and walked away.
“Fuckin’ images,” he said under his breath.
Language tapped Gabe on his shoulder and then pointed in one direction.
“That way?” Gabe asked.
Language smiled and nodded.
The group walked through the smoldering heat, miserable and dripping with sweat. They’d had no time to truly plan for this trip so they didn’t have a cart full of water and food being pulled by a donkey.
They had only their weapons and willpower to keep them moving forward. Dozier, with his axe strapped to his back, used a stick to help himself walk. Language led the way with Gabe and Lisa right behind her.
As they passed one of the small volcano shaped vents, it suddenly shot hot steam up into the air, causing Lisa to jump.
Bringing up the rear of the group was Conductor, who appeared to be more paranoid than the rest of them. He turned in all directions with his shotgun held out in front of him, nervously scanning the terrain as if expecting to be ambushed at any moment.
A strange, small, black scorpion creature crawled up out of the dirt next to T-Nate’s foot. It had small pincher claws and was about six inches long. T-Nate glanced down at his foot, took one look at the little beast, and stomped on it. The creature let out a loud squeal as it died.
“Did you see that shit?” T-Nate asked the others. “It was this damned big.”
He held out his hands about a foot apart from each other. Conductor sucked in a worried breath and shook his head.
“Ye shouldn’ta did that,” he warned T-Nate.
“Shouldn’t have done what?” Lisa asked.
“Stepped on a shivet,” Conductor said.
“Who gives a shit?” T-Nate asked with a cocky laugh.
“Em other shivets,” Conductor replied.
A loud squeal emitted from the ground, similar to the one that the dying shivet let out. Then a second, third, and fourth squeal all came from different locations. Soon after, the entire ground seemed to be squealing. Language tried to shout at the rest of them, but no one could hear her over the loud squealing.
“What?” Lisa asked.
Conductor suddenly shot past the rest of them.
“Run!” he yelled.
All around them the ground moved and rippled. T-Nate looked confused as he realized that everyone was glaring at him like it was his fault. He held his fingers out about a foot and a half apart.
“What? It was this big,” he said with disbelief.
At the rippling spots on the ground, the black heads of the shivets started to poke out.
“That little motherfucker called for backup?” T-Nate said in disbelief as he looked over at Sergio, who was the only other person not running.
Sergio’s eyes grew wide. He was frozen in place. Finally, he snapped out of it and moved backwards. The shivets were everywhere, crawling out of the ground.
“Come on, man!” Sergio yelled at T-Nate as he took off running. T-Nate followed after his friend. Language and Dozier were slightly ahead of them, limping along. The shivets surrounded them.
“Don’t step on them!” Lisa yelled as she tried her hardest to dodge the ones that came close to her feet.
One of the shivets suddenly leapt at T-Nate’s face. He ducked as it sprayed a green liquid from its mouth. The liquid sailed through the air and landed on T-Nate’s left forearm, marking him for the other shivets. The airborne shivet fell to the ground and T-Nate stepped on it, cursing aloud at the spitting insect.
More shivets leapt at him. They sunk their small fangs into his arm. T-Nate screamed and swatted at them, but they were securely fastened to his flesh. Blood seeped from their mouths and trickled down his arm. He continued to swat at them in a deranged frenzy.
“Somebody do something!” he yelled.
Finally, all of the shivets let go and fell to the ground. He stomped on all of them as he howled in pain. Dozier and Language were the first to reach him. Language grabbed his right arm and tried to pull him forward, but he was in too much pain. She yelped and let go of his arm as the bite marks began to leak green ooze that sizzled and smoked. His arm began to dissolve.
“My arm!” he yelled through clenched teeth. Foam bubbled out of his mouth and his eyes became bloodshot. His screams caused Sergio to turn and head back in his direction.
“Argh!” T-Nate screamed. “My arm! Take it off!”
Language pointed her gun at the ground and pulled the trigger, spraying bullets all around them, but careful not to hit any of the shivets. It was enough to scare most of them and they dug their way back into the ground.
Dozier glanced down at T-Nate’s arm and realized that the acid was climbing its way up to his neck and if he didn’t do something soon, T-Nate would be dead. He heaved the axe from his back and raised it up high over his head.
“Close your eyes!” Dozier yelled.
Language shook her head frantically and pulled on Dozier’s arm, trying to convince him not to do it. He shook her off and shot her an angry glance.
“He’ll die if I don’t!”
She backed away from him.
T-Nate closed his eyes and dropped to his knees, then fell back onto the ground. He looked straight ahead, but not at the others. His eyes bugged out and trembled, but seemed to be focused on something in the sky, as if a blessing of comfort was there in the stars. His lips turned blue and his arm dissolved as they watched.
Dozier raised the axe and touched it once softly to T-Nate’s upper arm, making sure that he was lined up correctly.
T-Nate closed his eyes and whimpered, clearly fearing what was to come.
With a horrific growl, Dozier yanked the axe high into the air and slammed it down hard against the upper part of the bicep, cutting his arm off above the infection. T-Nate’s eyes shot open. He screamed in pain and went limp.
Sergio knelt beside his friend and rolled him over. He was losing a lot of blood. “He’s going into shock! Tie off the arm!” he ordered.
What was left of T-Nate’s arm lay in a sizzling puddle on the ground. Shocked, Lisa backed away. Gabe helped Sergio pull T-Nate to his knees. A shivet hung from T-Nate’s thigh, its teeth buried in his skin. A second shivet hung from his calf. His entire leg was being eaten; the flesh began to dissolve at once.
Sergio’s bottom lip trembled as he pulled out his gun and placed it against the back of T-Nate’s head. He closed his eyes. “Vaya con Dios, amigo,” he whispered.
He pulled the trigger and a spray of blood hit him in the face. Sergio stood with his gun held out for a few seconds, watching as T-Nate fell to the ground, dead.
The shivets’ job was done. They climbed back into the ground and left the others alone.
Lisa buried her face in Gabe’s shoulder.
“They only wanted him,” she said.
“This is a fucking suicide mission!” Dozier yelled. He paced back and forth with his axe dragging across the ground. Language followed after him, trying to calm him down. She reached out to take his arm, but he pulled away from her angrily and stalked off.
Sergio wiped T-Nate’s blood off his face and stared down at his dead friend without blinking.
“There’s no difference between us and our images,” he said.
Gabe put his hand on Sergio’s shoulder.
“There’s a big difference,” he assured Sergio. “You just helped your friend. The images are cold blooded killers.”
Sergio walked away.
Chapter 2 – Speed Demon
Cutter munched on a microwaved bean burrito as he sped down the highway on the happy side of the mirror. Sauce threatened to escape out the bottom and fall onto his lap due to the death grip he held on the center of the thing.
Ivy watched through swollen eyelids as the man devoured his food. Bruised, battered and tied up in the backseat, she was thankful that her tormentor had removed
the duct tape from her mouth.
Even still, she refused to speak, and stared up at the rearview mirror, wondering if saying the words, “I can’t take it anymore” would work. She decided not to try since even if it liquefied she wouldn’t be able to fit through.
She could only see the top half of Cutter’s face. With only his bangs, forehead and eyes in partial view, he didn’t look so evil. For a moment, she felt as if she were staring at Gabe.