Residue
Steve Diamond
© 2015
Edited by Stacey Turner
Cover Art and Design by Shawn T. King
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.
Worldwide Rights
Created in the United States of America
Published by ANGELIC KNIGHT PRESS
An Imprint of Ragnarok Publications | www.ragnarokpub.com
Editor-In-Chief: Tim Marquitz | Creative Director: J.M. Martin
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
About the Author
For Jenny, Logan & Alyssa
Acknowledgments
It’s weird to sit down and write my “Acknowledgments” for the first time. It wasn’t too long ago that I considered this moment a complete dream. Residue took the long road to getting published, and now I can look back and clearly see all the people that helped me along the way.
It’s amazing how many of my friends offered to read my book and give feedback. These alpha/beta readers really helped me pull the story together, and in the right order: Tom Lloyd, James Barclay, John Brown, Bryce Moore, Shawn Boyles, Dan Smyth, Vanessa Christenson, Don Darling, Larry Correia, Rob Code and Dan Wells. You all are amazing, and I couldn’t have done this without you.
Most of the following people don’t know me, but I want to thank them anyway. These are authors/artists that influenced me to such a degree that to not mention them would be unbelievably horrible of me. Brian Lumley, F. Paul Wilson, Bob Eggleton, Joe Lansdale, Jonathan Maberry and Richard Matheson. And lastly, Robert McCammon, arguably the most influential author on my work. Thank you.
Ragnarok Publications. Holy cow. Tim Marquitz and Joe Martin. Love you guys. Thank you for giving me a shot. Shawn King for the amazing cover. Melanie Meadors for all the publicity work. Stacey Turner for editing my book, and really tightening it up. And especially Nick Sharps for reading Residue and taking it up the ladder at Ragnarok. Nick, you are the best. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
Another thanks to Larry Correia and Dan Wells for the amazing book blurbs. Praise from them is humbling.
I have amazing parents who got me reading early and often. My Mom and Dad are awesome.
And for my wife Jenny, thank you for supporting my dream to get this book done and for helping me not give up on it. I love you more than anything.
Last, but certainly not least, the readers. Thank you for picking up Residue. Keep reading, and read everything.
Steve Diamond
April 2015
Residue
Prologue
Illuminated in the harsh, red lights, bodies lay twisted and bent in shapes the human figure was never meant to experience. Their faces—where they still had them—were locked into final screams of pain and terror. The scent of coppery blood and gunpowder filled the air.
Alexandra Courtney shook her head to clear the noise. Each time the red light pulsed, the piercing wail of an alarm accompanied it, making concentration impossible.
Her boots lost traction, and she fell hard on her shoulder, nearly losing her grip on her gun. Liquid seeped through her light jacket. She stared into the face of a guard in a Helix Corporation uniform—the head twisted around facing backwards—fresh blood still leaking from the man’s nose and mouth.
A bestial roar and the sound of gunfire from ahead refocused her attention. She pushed herself up, shoving away an offered hand of help from one of the extra guards that had filed into the hallway behind her.
They were nervous; Alex was pretty sure one of them had pissed his pants at the sight of the half-a-dozen mangled corpses in the hall.
Weak, Alex thought.
She ran towards the gunfire, glass crunching under her boots.
The gaping hole in the reinforced glass of a holding cell yawned to her left. The red alarm light pulsed again, and through the hole she saw more dead guards, ripped to pieces.
Alex motioned for the two nearest men to secure the cell. The door, standing untouched by the violence, read 213.
Her mouth went dry.
The Leech’s cell.
More gunfire sounded from down the hall. The screams of the dying accompanied the inhuman roar this time.
She sprinted towards the sounds, hurdling bodies. Blood pounded in her veins in time with the light and siren. A crash ahead of her echoed over the shrieking alarm, and she registered movement.
Bright, fluorescent light flooded the hallway, and Alex caught a misshapen silhouette in the glare.
Whatever the creature might be, it was headed outside, and it wasn’t the Leech. It was too big for that. She jumped over a crumpled form and burst through the open door way. The floodlights blinded her, and she lost precious seconds blinking to adjust her vision.
Stupid, Alex berated herself. I’m a sitting duck.
Her vision cleared, and the light, nighttime breeze blew away the odor of violence from within.
Across the grass clearing she caught a glimpse of a boy-sized figure fading into the woods on the opposite side of the electrified fence enclosing the building. The Leech. A ragged hole marked the spot where it had escaped. Through the gap Alex glimpsed the bulky creature that had set the Leech free and killed the guards.
Alex’s instinct kicked in before her mind reacted. Her arms snapped up, and she pulled the trigger on her pistol four times in the span of a heartbeat.
The creature bellowed, staggered, then fell.
The Leech had gotten away, and the guards behind her were already forming up to track it. Alex had read the Leech’s case file. If we don’t find it…
She approached the creature she’d shot, gun poised to put the remaining rounds in its skull if it so much as twitched. A dozen bullet holes besides her own riddled the beast’s hide. At least my guys went down shooting.
Up close, Alex recognized it, though she’d never seen one in person. Boney spikes stood like quills on the back of a heavily muscled form that had once been human. Claws jutted from fingers and toes. Its face appeared caught mid-transition from human to the werewolf it was patterned after. This was one of Whyte Genetics’ abominations. A Hound.
Genetically mutated, they were pack animals. Where there was one, more would follow.
This was far worse than just the Leech getting away.
Alex pulled out her phone and dialed Helix’s head of security.
He answered after the first ring. “Bishop here.”
“This is Alex. We’ve got a situation.”
“What happened?”
“We�
�ve got a lot of dead people here—”
“How many casualties?” Daniel Bishop asked.
“I don’t know,” Alex replied. The Hound at her feet gasped for air. “At least a dozen. Hard to tell. A lot of them were…in pieces. I’ve got a dying Hound here that just…” she hesitated. How could this happen on my watch? “It looks like some sort of screwed up rescue mission. Something was set free.”
“What do you mean it was a rescue mission? What was set free?”
“The Leech.”
He didn’t speak for several moments, but when he did his voice shook. “I’ll be right there. Hounds can’t communicate. Put it down. And Alex…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” Bishop said. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like this.”
The age thing again, she thought. “No worries, sir. Better this than normal teenage crap.”
“Yeah,” Bishop said. He didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll be right there.”
The call ended.
Alex slipped the phone back in her pocket. Blood leaked from the Hound’s mouth. She could see its teeth were sharp, not even human anymore. Its arms were elongated to accommodate loping on all fours. She’d only seen one actual werewolf in her young life, but at least it had looked natural. This thing was the test-tube version of that beautiful beast. A weapon only. She wondered if the creature could think.
Alex observed her gaze reflected in the thing’s eyes. All she saw was animal fury.
She aimed her gun and put two rounds into its head.
Chapter One
“Your father is missing,” The Deputy said. “We found his car abandoned several miles outside of town.”
There are a few things I never expected to hear in my life. That was one of them. For a moment, I stared blankly at the man—his name-tag read “Deputy Path”—and wondered if this was some sort of joke. A really bad one.
“Mr. Bishop?” Deputy Path asked. “Jack? Are you hearing what I’m saying?”
“Who put you up to this? This doesn’t really feel like something my dad would put together. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor. Was it Barry? He can be an ass sometimes, but this seems a bit excessive. No? Well then who—”
“No one put me up to this, Jack,” he interrupted. “There are a lot of worried people out searching for him, and if he’s here, I need to know right now.”
“This isn’t a joke?” I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them. Then I shook my head in a vain effort to clear the cobwebs.
I’d been sleeping soundly on my living room couch, dreaming about who I would take to Homecoming. I was at the part of the dream where one girl had just said yes, and then two more lovely ladies came into the picture, fighting over who would be my second date to the dance. I offered to take them both, of course.
They’d been fawning over me when the pounding on the door ripped me from that moment of bliss.
“Look,” I said with a weary sigh. “My dad left last night in response to a call about some security thing at Helix. I was waiting up for him, but I must have crashed on the couch. He’s probably up stairs, sprawled out on his bed.”
“Would you mind checking for me please?”
“Seriously?” I shook my head in annoyance. “Whatever, man. Take a seat. I’ll only be a second.”
Deputy Path nodded, face grave. Something in his expression made my heart beat faster. I glanced over my shoulder to the stairs leading up to the second floor of our home, then back at the Deputy. My mind finally caught up to the situation, and my stomach clenched.
I tried not to hurry up the stairs, reassuring myself as I climbed. My dad would be up there. I’d open the door to his room, and he’d be lying there, snoring like usual. Maybe he’d even still be in the clothes he’d worn last night.
Yeah. He’d come in the house quietly, and had seen me asleep on the couch. It made sense. He hadn’t wanted to wake me.
But the Deputy said his car was abandoned outside of town.
That stray thought floated through my mind as I reached the top of the stairs.
Now I was worried.
As I reached out a hand to turn the knob on my dad’s door, I realized my hands shook.
With a deep breath I grabbed the handle and twisted, then pushed the door open.
The bed sat empty, made up, undisturbed. Clearly no one had slept here last night. I walked through the room to the adjoining bathroom and found it empty too.
Panic clenched in my gut.
Without really meaning to, my body doing its own thing, I ran out of the room, shouting, “Dad!”
I threw open every door on the second floor. Each and every room. Every stupid closet and bathroom. I even checked under the freaking beds.
My dad wasn’t here.
Helplessness clutched at me. I couldn’t do anything. There wasn’t any magic pill or wand to make my dad come back right now. I screamed in frustration and threw a glass I didn’t even realize I’d picked up. It shattered against the wall in the hallway, spraying glass everywhere.
Deputy Path pounded up the steps and burst into the hallway. “You OK, Jack? What’s going on?”
“My dad is gone,” I yelled at him. “What do you think is going on?”
My cell phone buzzed from inside my room at the top of the stairs. I sprinted for it. It was going to be my dad, apologizing for all the worry.
I grabbed my phone and slid my finger over the screen to unlock it. I had a text from my friend Barry.
Dude. Call me ASAP. Things are crazy.
Whatever. Barry could wait. He’d left me hanging more than once. After all, his dad wasn’t missing or anything. I checked for missed calls and found five from Barry, but that was it. Nothing from my dad.
It took all my self-restraint to not hurl the phone at the wall like I had the glass.
“Talk me through it, Jack,” Deputy Path said. His voice held that false calming tone all adults were pros at. “What exactly did your dad say last night?”
I took a few deep breaths and resisted the urge to sink to the floor. No. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself in front of this moron.
“He got a call last night from someone at Helix,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “He asked the person on the phone about casualties or something.”
I closed my eyes trying to remember the words. It had all happened so fast. One minute we were eating root beer floats, and the next he was on the phone, tense like I’d never seen before.
“Then he said…” How had he put it? “He asked something like, ‘What do you mean it was a rescue mission?’”
“Are you sure that’s all he said?”
“Look,” I said. “From the moment he got the call, to when he flew out the door was, like, three minutes. He said he’d be back later, and we’d have some things to ‘discuss’ when he got back. Whatever that meant.”
“Anything else?”
I wanted to reach out and strangle him. Other than that? Nothing. “He left at almost eleven. I don’t know what else you want me to say. You came to my house, remember? How about you tell me what the heck is going on?”
“Calm down, son.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Just calm down.”
I shoved him. Probably not the smartest thing to do to a cop, but I was sick of his attitude. “Don’t touch me,” I said through clenched teeth. “And I’m not your son. Now how about you actually give me a little bit of information instead of being a tool?”
His eyes narrowed for just a second, but then he nodded in understanding. The change in expression, almost like he was a different person now, calmed me. I wasn’t normally the combative type. This wasn’t me. I was just so…so…
I was just so worried.
Was my dad OK? He had to be.
“Your dad called Helix last night and told them he was being followed. Then his phone cut out. We tracked the GPS on his cell and found his truck a few miles from Helix. He wasn’t in it, so we wondered if he had
come home. I’m sorry, Jack, and this is a terrible question to ask, but do you have any family around here that can come stay with you until your dad shows up?”
Oh man. This guy was dead serious. “I have an aunt in town. Martha Thompson.”
“Care if I call her up?”
I shook my head. “Do you need her number?”
“That won’t be necessary, Jack.”
“Any…any idea where my dad is?” It was a stupid question. The deputy wouldn’t be here if he knew. But I had to ask anyway. The deputy shook his head. Of course not. Pity showed on his face and in his posture. I didn’t want his pity. I wanted my dad.
“What’s going to happen now?”
“All the other deputies are getting together to organize a search. I was told Helix is already putting together their security people to look for your dad.”
“Can I help look?”
“Sure…”
“Right now?” I asked. A search would at least give me something to do. I wasn’t going to sit here like a kid who’d just been dumped.
“Well, it’s going take a bit to get everyone together,” he hesitated, “though honestly it might be better if you waited here. You know, in case he comes home and—”
“Not gonna happen,” I interrupted. Desperation snuck into my voice. I needed to be out there. I didn’t know why, maybe I just needed something to do. I left Deputy Path sitting on my couch while I went back upstairs to change into some jeans and a light jacket.
The deputy held up his hands as I came back down. “Look, we need to wait to see if any more information comes in. How about we sit down for a second—”
“I am not going to sit down.” My anger and helplessness got the better of me of me again. He took my shouting well, better than I would have expected. A flush of embarrassment crept into my cheeks, and I lowered my voice. “You can either drive me to where his truck is, or I’ll drive myself.” Never mind I had no idea where that might be, or what car I would take. I didn’t have my own.
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