by Bill Denise
Shedding the Demon
By Bill Denise
Back Cover Text:
Raised by gang members on the violent streets of a ruined city, Damon finds himself coerced into a secret government program that molds him into a prototype super-assassin. Turned into a walking arsenal and an unstoppable killing machine, he soon discovers reasons to doubt his government-sponsored objectives and begins to see some ugly truths behind the benevolent facade. Damon finds himself haunted by doubts—is he somehow being used as a weapon in a covert bid to bring chaos the current regime?
Gathering together his friends and some unlikely allies, he must find a way to stop the usurper before the entire human race falls victim to brutal tyranny.
Copyright © 2013 by Bill Denise
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover art © Jesse-lee Lang | Dreamstime.com
This book was written using Scrivener for Windows:
http://www.literatureandlatte.com/scrivener.php
And revised using the Novel Revision Database from KnuckleHead Computers.
(see About the author . . . for more information)
Acknowledgements
To be completely honest, I never would have finished this novel without a whole lot of help from other people . . .
Almost two years ago, through a long series of events while searching for strategy information on a popular MMO (thanks Honorshammer! – aka F. Ted Atchley), I eventually found myself on the Saucy Ink website. There I learned about NaNoWriMo, and the writing bug was kindled. Luckily, I also found Taven Moore’s excellent NaNo prep course, and I followed every step of her plan or I would not be writing this today.
When it came time for revision, I turned to Taven for help again. She led me by the hand through the whole process, and her patience and perseverance allowed me to finish the arduous task. Thanks Taven! You are personally responsible for allowing me to create this novel and then also to revise it properly.
I can’t thank my beta readers enough! I would like to thank F. Ted Atchley, Laura Floyd, and Faith Williams specifically for their help.
An extra note about Faith is needed here: she truly went above and beyond with her efforts to fix my story. She not only read it multiple times in line-edit detail, she also helped with its reorganization and pacing. She graciously fielded innumerable questions from me about specific parts of the story and really dug into the minutiae. Without her help, this novel would not be anywhere near as polished as it is now.
My sister, Kim Denise, deserves mention too, as she also answered questions and acted as a general sounding board throughout the process.
And of course my mom, who encouraged me and always believes that I can do anything, despite evidence to the contrary!
Finally, I have to thank my wonderful wife, Lynn, and kids, Alyssa and Michael, for their unending support over the past two years while I spent (far too many) hours glued to the keyboard pounding it out!
Thank YOU for reading—I hope you enjoy the story!
Bill
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
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
About the author . . .
Chapter One
Damon looked down from the rooftop into the alley below. Shadows were spreading over the ground as the sun fell behind the tall buildings all around him. He listened intently; sure that he had heard something unusual. This close to the City, its sounds drifted into the Ruins in a never-ending hum, but he had trained his ears to ignore the incessant droning and focus on particular sounds. There—just around the corner. Something is going down, Damon thought as he tried to move quickly yet quietly.
He threaded his way over the rooftop between piles of garbage, broken down machines, discarded trash, and other detritus. Mindful of his training, he could hear his mentor’s voice in his head:
Keep focused on your target, but never forget that threats are everywhere, do NOT let someone get the drop on you because you were preoccupied.
Damon smiled as he thought of Andrea and her oft-repeated admonishments. Nonetheless, he followed her advice to the letter; eyes shifting, hearing focused, and the path he chose was winding amongst the debris rather than the easier, and faster, straight-line path across the roof. He came to the other side of the roof, squeezed between two rusted-out hulking pieces of machinery and listened again.
He heard a shuffle of feet moving quickly, the metallic crash of something falling to the ground, and there, hidden in the other sounds, a muffled scream. Now he just had to take a look. Although there shouldn’t be any Family members out here at this time of day, he was on patrol and part of his duty was to investigate anything unusual.
Keep your eyes moving at all times, keep your hearing sharp, and always stay near quick cover. Threats are everywhere!
Andrea’s voice resonated in his mind, and comforted him. He enjoyed every minute spent with her, even if it was only during training and sparring. Together, they made a deadly team. Her quickness and agility were the perfect counterpoints to his size and strength, although he could move with surprising grace for a man his size. It was this combination of abilities that gave him the name “Demon” among his friends.
Carefully peeking over the rubble of the rooftop, he took in the scene below. Four men encircled a young girl who was lying face-down on the pavement. She was bloodied and crying, but making no effort to stand. Damon’s eyes narrowed and he felt heat rise up along his neck. He didn’t know the circumstances and he didn’t care, because he was positive that four men against a single girl was unfair in any situation.
He looked around to judge his surroundings, searching for possible threats and a quick way down to the ground. Measuring time, distance, and speed in his mind he decided he could climb down to an abandoned fire escape and then jump from there.
Loud, maybe, and not real fast, but I don’t see any other way right now.
He glanced around one more time as the men grabbed the girl and lifted her up into a standing position. Taking a deep breath he swung his legs over the edge, facing toward the building, hoping his plan would work.
His feet struck the windowsill below and he kept moving, twisting his body to the side to reach and catch the edge of the next window as he began a controlled fall. He swung his legs toward the fire escape, gaining enough momentum to fly through the air and land as planned, more or less, on the rusted metal framework. Taking three running steps that echoed loudly through the alley and alerted his opponents, he jumped toward the group, hoping to break his fall with one of them.
Unfortunately, they were able to dodge, causing Damon to land too heavily on his feet. Pain shot up his legs but he rolled with his forward motion, and plowed directly into one of the men holding the girl. Together they smashed into a nearby wall, and the man's body took the full impact of Damon’s heavy frame. Damon felt ribs break beneath his shoulder and the man immediately went lim
p.
Ducking instinctively to the side, Damon narrowly avoided the swing of a bat now being wielded by a long-haired assailant. He finished his dodge by taking a few quick steps away to open up some space. He paused in a half-crouch and quickly assessed the three remaining targets. There was the long-haired bat-man; a scared-looking youngster clenching his fists but backing away; and a tall, lean man with a messy shock of blond hair.
“Well, boys, what would you be doing here with this young girl, hmmm?” Damon asked, exuding calm. He was not worried, he had faced worse odds and tougher opponents many times before.
“Would you like to talk about this, or should we do it the hard way?” Damon asked as he stood up out of his crouch, making a show of stretching his back nonchalantly.
Bat-man snarled at his taunt, and Scared-boy backed away. Blondie laughed and looked at his fingernails before speaking, “If you want a turn with her, we can do that.”
“I don't take advantage of girls beaten into submission. Usually they just fall for my good looks. Although I can see how that wouldn't work for you boys.”
Damon started walking around the men to get to the girl, but Bat-man stepped into his path. Damon lunged toward him making him swing the bat prematurely and without much force. Damon easily grabbed the barrel of the bat in one hand, and spinning his body in the opposite direction he pulled it from the man's grip. He finished the move by continuing his turn all the way around and catching the now-batless man in the temple with the handle of his own bat. Metal cracked against bone and the man fell backward in heap.
Casually flipping the bat around to hold it by the handle, Damon addressed the two remaining thugs. Make that one, he thought as he caught sight of scared-boy running away.
Blondie laughed, a disconcerting sound given the current state of affairs. When he spoke his voice was steady, “Now look, this started with you trying to take my prize, but now you killed my rookies. I can't just let that go.”
Blondie's attitude made Damon wonder what gave him such confidence. “You can just give me the girl and go on your way, then nobody gets hurt.” Well, nobody else gets hurt, Damon amended in his thoughts.
Again Blondie chuckled, and Damon's heart started beating faster. As Blondie continued to laugh, Damon heard the sound of approaching footsteps as three tough-looking guys come out of a nearby building. Four more came out behind Blondie, and two came walking down the street from where Scared-boy had disappeared.
Blondie drew two long knives and dropped into a fighter’s stance. Keeping the bat in his left hand, Damon faced him since he was the only one who appeared to be armed. The other nine formed a rough circle around them.
Blondie wasted no time and stepped in to thrust one blade at Damon's face while swinging the other in a slashing motion at his bat-hand. Ignoring the obvious feint, Damon drew back his hand but was surprised when the blade moved even quicker and found purchase across his wrist. The wound was superficial, but it shouldn’t have connected at all. In the split-second of delay, Blondie brought the other blade in a pass across Damon's hip that he couldn't quite avoid and more blood was drawn. Surprised again by the speed of the attack, Damon hopped back a few steps to gain a short respite. The cut on his hip was fairly deep and he felt the blood soaking his pant leg. He knew that it would slow him down over time, and he needed to bring this to a quick close.
Come on! Andrea’s even faster than him and I can hold my own against her—well, sort of.
Blondie bared his teeth in a predatory smile as he moved in cautiously.
Damon regrouped mentally and rushed him, trying to close the distance and mitigate the other's speed advantage. Blondie anticipated the move and sidestepped easily, piercing Damon's right shoulder. Damon twisted away from the blade, pulling it out before Blondie had a chance to cause more damage to the muscle.
He realized he needed to change tactics—and fast. Pretending to charge again, he pulled up short and started to swing the bat. Blondie’s thrust missed this time, throwing him slightly off balance. The only opening Damon needed. He adjusted the arc of the bat in flight to connect solidly on Blondie’s outstretched hand, cracking bones and sending the knife skittering across the ground. Blondie recovered quickly and parried Damon's next swing, but now the big man was in close. Damon pressed his advantage relentlessly, brushing aside the knife and plowing Blondie backward into the ground. Damon grabbed him by the face with one huge hand and slammed his head into the pavement, putting all of his weight behind the blow: once, twice, three times in rapid succession. Blondie's eyes glazed over and he stopped struggling.
Unfortunately, the nine spectators did not wait long and rushed in to beat and kick Damon before he could rise to his feet. Fighting to match his “Demon” nickname, he managed to take out three of his assailants before a blow to the head sent him reeling groggily and he was no longer able to defend himself.
“I think I've seen enough, boys!” The deep feminine voice traveled through the din of the fight and caught everyone’s attention. Damon saw Andrea sauntering into the alley holding the stainless steel pipe she used as a staff. She was tall and muscular, but her thin frame caused many to misjudge her. Her long dark hair was tied back behind her head to keep it out her eyes. At this time, in this situation, Damon thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
She hesitated but another moment before launching herself into the fray.
She ran forward and planted the end of the pipe in the pavement to fly into the air and land in the middle of the small group of men. Using the pipe as both a weapon and an acrobatic aid, she spun and danced between them, striking unerringly with fist, boot, and staff. Even though he was still groggy, Damon admired her grace as she eliminated all six men in a matter of seconds, and he doubted that she’d taken even a single blow.
“I had it all under control,” Damon said, leaning over with his hands on his knees and spitting blood, “all under control.” He laughed but winced at a pain in his chest.
Andrea stepped forward and slapped him on the back of the head, “Idiot! What were you thinking?”
Damon stopped smiling at her tone, “What?”
“Didn’t you listen to any of my training at all?”
“Well . . . I . . . but . . .” Damon stammered, averting his eyes.
“I stuck my neck out to get you into a solo patrol, to get you promoted to full-time, and this is how you repay me?” She glared at him, her dark brown eyes burning with anger.
“If this was a solo patrol, then why are you here?” Damon responded peevishly, straightening to his full height, half a head taller than her.
Andrea paused, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at him. “You’d be dead if not for me, and what good would that be for the Family?
“The Family?”
“Yes. The Family needs you, even if you are an idiot.”
“What about you?”
“Me, the Family, all of us, we are the Family.”
“Oh . . . argh!” Damon growled, unable to form actual words.
She continued to glare at him, but he could not meet her gaze. Neither one spoke again until they heard a small whimpering sound coming from the forgotten young girl. Together they looked over at her huddled against the wall of the building, rocking gently with her knees drawn up to her chest.
Andrea knelt in front of her, “It’s all right now, honey, they’re gone.” The girl didn’t respond. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
Damon remained standing where he was, too angry and hurt to care about the girl anymore. “I risked my life to save her, isn’t that worth something?” he practically yelled at Andrea.
Andrea jumped up and stepped quickly toward him, her eyes burning. Damon took an involuntary step back.
Jabbing a finger in his chest, she hissed “No, it’s not! It’s not worth risking your life! Is she Family? No! What, then, does she mean to you? Did you think you’d bring her back home and take her as your wife?” Andrea laughed derisively, “I do
n’t think so! Look at her, a tiny wisp of a thing, what good would she be? And you know darn well that we can’t bring in anyone new. Not now, we simply can’t support any more.”
Andrea paused and put a fist to her forehead while closing her eyes and looking tired.
“You were on patrol. What is the purpose of patrol?” her speech took on the didactic tone he had heard so often.
“We patrol to ensure the safety and integrity of the perimeter,” Damon answered by rote, almost involuntarily.
“What are the basic tenets of patrol?”
“Keep hidden, keep moving; stay quiet, stay alert.”
“Yes, and how would you evaluate your patrol tonight?”
Damon exhaled in disgust, still mad even though she was right. He only now realized the extent of his failure. He had picked a fight for no acceptable reason, made a lot of noise in the process, had been stationary for far too long, and was not monitoring the perimeter. As far as patrols go, this had to be one of the worst. He didn’t need to verbalize it.
“Exactly.” Andrea took a deep breath and continued, “Now let’s go home and get you patched up. I’m not giving you any MedPacs from my stash!” She was almost friendly again. Almost.
“What about her?” Damon asked quietly, gesturing at the girl.
Andrea frowned and looked uneasy, “Do you have any money?” she asked him.
“Huh?”
“Money. Do you have any MUN-EE?”
“Well, yeah,” Damon said fishing in his pockets. “I got some.” He drew out a small bundle of bills.
“Give it to her.”
“What?”
“How many head shots did you take? Give. It. To. Her.”