A New World: Conspiracy

by John O'Brien

  A New World: Conspiracy

  Book VIII of A New World

  A Novel by John O’Brien

  Published by John O’Brien at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2013 John O’Brien

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review, without permission in writing from the author.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover art by: Matthew Riggenbach

  http://www.shaedstudios.com/

  This book is dedicated to my father, John P. O’Brien. A Vietnam War vet and a great man. I didn’t get to know you as well as I’d have liked to, but the times we did get to share will forever remain with me. You are in my heart when I stroll through the woods and always in my thoughts. I miss you.

  The New World series is a fictional work. While some of the locations in the series describe actual locations, this is intended only to lend an authentic theme. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Also by John O’Brien

  A New World Series

  A NEW WORLD: CHAOS

  A NEW WORLD: RETURN

  A NEW WORLD: SANCTUARY

  A NEW WORLD: TAKEN

  A NEW WORLD: AWAKENING

  A NEW WORLD: DISSENSION

  A NEW WORLD: TAKEDOWN

  A NEW WORLD: CONSPIRACY

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First thanks goes to my mother, June O’Brien. She takes first crack at my scribblings and turns them into something that others can read. Each time I seem to develop a new quirk. This time I seemed to fixate on ‘begins to’ and ‘to an extent’. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for all of the hours you put in. And that’s aside from publishing your second book in the series, The Blue Child Series. I highly encourage everyone to read The North Road. You won’t be disappointed.

  Thank you to the beta readers who take their valuable time to read through and correct my many errors. I truly appreciate all of your input!

  I owe a special thanks to Amanda with Cave of the Winds. She spent a lot of her valuable time answering my questions regarding the cave systems located in Manitou Springs.

  A thanks goes to Matthew Riggenbach for your help with the cover art. You delivered once again in record time with a masterpiece.

  And a very special thanks to all of my readers, thank you!!! Your encouraging messages and support is humbling. I feel truly fortunate to have such great fans. You aren’t just fans, you’re friends and part of my extended family. You have journeyed with me through this story and made it a part of you just as much as it is me. I said it before and I’ll say it again, this story is as much yours as it is mine.

  If you do happen to enjoy the story, feel free to leave a review. Reviews are important for two reasons. One is that’s how the books get up in the listing which of course means more sales. But more importantly, it lets me get a look at everyone’s perception. Looking though the online reviews, I feel that I become a better writer.

  John O’Brien

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Well, here we are on the eighth book. Who would have guessed it would have come this far. I, for one, am absolutely thrilled it has as I enjoy writing about this group of survivors. They have become more than just characters in a story, they have become a part of me that I enjoy spending time with. Yes, the voices in my head. The fun thing about writing about them is that I never really know what is going to happen. Within certain set parameters, the tale unfolds as I set the words down.

  I’ve had a few messages regarding UV lighting so I thought I’d take the opportunity to talk about that. I truly wish that UV lighting could come into play and work it into the story line with teams pushing into night runner lairs. UV lighting operates on a shorter wavelength than that of the visual spectrum. It’s really divided into three different UV types but I won’t go into that. The sun emits all three types and it’s UVB that is the most damaging. Most of the artificially produced light, i.e. tanning beds and handheld devices, operate in the UVA spectrum. This light can be harmful if overexposure occurs but that exposure takes some time for it to be effective in that manner. I can’t see that anyone would want to hold a lamp to a night runner for an extended period of time, and I can’t imagine that the night runner would be cordial enough to hold still during that time. Well, enough about that. I’m not meaning to come across negatively, I just want to mention it and show that it wouldn’t be a very feasible option.

  I’d also like to mention that there is a lot of planning that involves Frank so there is a lot of interaction there. I just don’t write about a lot of the pre-planning that goes on as I’m sure you’d be skipping over those sections just as I would be falling asleep at the keyboard writing it.

  This book is a little different than the others. There are a few threads going on, and an introduction to a new one. I won’t spoil it here but you’ll see it. Speaking of which, here I am prattling on, keeping you from the story. So, let’s get on with it shall we. I hope you enjoy the continuation of Jack’s and the group’s tale. And, if you happen to enjoy it, please head back and leave a review. I’d be forever grateful.

  John O’Brien

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  A Past Remembered

  A Sighting

  All Good Plans

  Bird’s Eye View

  A Bird in the Hand

  Payment Comes Due

  Taps

  Show and Tell

  Into the Sunset

  Last Legs

  Another Try

  Hung Out To Dry

  Shattered Dreams

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Connect With Me Online

  Prologue

  Tired from a night of hunting, and with the bright light bringing an end to his time outside, Michael eases down to the hard, wooden floor of his lair. The noise of the pack jostling to find places to rest echo in the large arena, eventually settling to a few grunts and groans. Michael wants to slump down and sleep with the rest of them, but thoughts, racing through his mind, keep him awake. With the two-leggeds occupying the top position, anxiety about his pack fills most of his waking moments. They are by far the most dangerous threat to the pack’s existence.

  There had been a chance to destroy the two-leggeds when Sandra had somehow managed to get into their lair, but then she inexplicably left with one of their females in tow. However much he has tried to make sense of that move, he hasn’t arrived at anything that adds up. Now his worry extends to what the two-legged’s response will be. Michael has no doubt that they’ll react, but he isn’t sure of what that will entail. He has warned his groups heading out on the nightly hunt to be alert for the sounds of the thing in the sky that rains down death; but so far, nothing has materialized.

  Through images from some of her followers leaving and arriving on their hunt, he knows where Sandra has laired the remains of her pack. Thoughts circle through his mind about eliminating her as she has endangered the whole pack through her actions. Instead, he has purposely kept a wide separation between their two packs. There is no telling when the two-legged ones will react, and he doesn’t want to be caught in the middle or in any way draw their attention his way.
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br />   Michael knows the two-leggeds must be destroyed if he and his pack are to have a chance at surviving and that Sandra’s actions are now likely to make that a more difficult endeavor. His choices are to attack the two-legged lair and hope for the best, destroy Sandra and hope that his own pack isn’t discovered, pull farther back until things resolve themselves, or keep things as they are. Each time he thinks of one of the options, it seems to be the right choice, but the problems associated with each one quickly appear and he discards the idea.

  Attacking the two-legged lair would decimate his pack in the process, and he doubts he would be successful. That would bring about an even larger retaliation. Attacking Sandra would accomplish very little unless he recovered the captured female and released her, but what would that really solve? There is nothing to be had there except for destroying Sandra and the danger she keeps bringing. Pulling back to another location could possibly bring them to an area with limited food sources. They are able to sustain themselves where they are for the time being so moving might bring on additional problems. No, he will watch from a distance in the hopes that he can learn more about the two-leggeds from their reaction.

  * * * * * *

  He sits bolt upright, coming out from a dead sleep and into a panicked awakening. It has been several nights without any sign of a two-legged reaction to the intrusion of their lair. Michael wondered if there is going to be any retaliation at all. The image that flashed through his mind and brought him from the depths of sleep makes him think that the time of the two-legged reaction is at hand.

  The mental image that startled him awake fades as he becomes more aware of his surroundings, but the essence of the message remains etched in his mind: “I’m heeeere…and coming to get each and every one of you, you backwards-ass motherfuckers.”

  Looking around at his immense pack laying in all corners of the vast arena, some twitching as they sleep, he feels confused by the message. It feels both similar to the images he is used to, yet foreign at the same time. It’s one he has felt in the past from time to time, but now he’s certain it’s from one of the two-legged. The fact that he sees an image sent by one of them both scares and puzzles him. He wasn’t aware that any of the two-leggeds could communicate in this manner. Although he isn’t certain, Michael senses that the image was sent from the proximity of Sandra’s lair.

  As the image fades, another takes it place almost immediately. This one is more directed, “I’m coming for you. I’ll be along shortly, so save a place.” The ‘voice’ of the image instantly vanishes from his mind.

  Yes, the two-legged ones are reacting. Michael rises and ventures closer to the entrance as if this will allow him to “see” the upcoming events more clearly. He sits and watches for images floating from the direction of Sandra’s lair.

  It’s not long before he feels a couple of his kind from far away vanish from his mind. That in itself isn’t all that unusual; it happens from time to time, and the ones who fade from his senses usually reappear shortly thereafter. However, the timing of it this time causes him to believe that these won’t be coming back. He senses some in the other lair become more alert. He knows that opening up to fully sense them will cause him to become ‘visible’, but as long as he doesn’t transmit anything, he will be just another presence – albeit a stronger one.

  Another vanishes. He senses two pack members become alert, aware that an intruder might be in their midst. Michael wonders how many the two-leggeds have sent in to such a large lair, but as yet, no visual images of them emanate from the pack. Feeling that will be a short-lived thing as the others react, he continues to watch, looking for two-legged weaknesses that he might exploit in the future.

  It’s not long before he is rewarded by visual images of pack members looking at a lone two-legged standing on some stairs. He feels first one and then the second pack member vanish abruptly from his mind, but not before they were able to send out an alarm. Hundreds of pack members tense and begin running toward where the one was spotted.

  Images filter in of them finding and then chasing a two-legged up the stairs. From what he can glean, they are catching up with it fast, and this part of the attack will be over quickly. Suddenly, his mind is filled with the agony of many pack members. He can almost hear their screams of suffering – white hot images of pain. Michael doesn’t know what happened, only that the pack members giving chase blink out of existence.

  These two-leggeds are more dangerous than I thought, he thinks as he receives images of Sandra’s pack members searching the lair.

  Images of Sandra enter as she calls others to bring the two-legged female to her. Michael still can’t figure out what she is thinking, as if this female can save her or her pack in some way. The thought that Sandra is using this female as a lure surfaces again, but that still doesn’t make any sense. She was in the two-legged lair and could have killed all of them. To withdraw only to set a trap when she was already there just doesn’t seem right. A thought occurs that maybe she is just crazy.

  Now, that makes more sense, Michael thinks as Sandra vanishes once again.

  Time passes with only images of pack members searching through the lair for more of the two-leggeds. Michael wonders if this was their attempt and, having failed, they are now giving up. Images surface; running down halls…chasing after sounds. He can’t ascertain exactly what is going on, but catches fleeting pictures of hallways and the mental equivalent of the sound of glass breaking.

  The next series of images has him stiffen and rise abruptly from his sitting position. Sandra, filled with pain and screaming, “Noooooo!” He feels anguish radiate from her and catches a visual image of a two-legged one and the female, hearing the two-legged say, “I warned you that I was coming.” He senses the image from Sandra begin to fade, but not before he ‘sees’ Sandra answer, “You were mine.” Then…she vanishes.

  Amidst the anger rising from the pack members at her loss, Michael feels his own rage build. It’s not the loss of Sandra that causes this – that is almost a relief – but it is because of the loss of one of his own kind to a two-legged. The very sight causes his rage to build; but so far, he has been able to control it. It’s still there, and sometimes it threatens to overwhelm all of his other senses, but he can manage it. Some of it stems from fear. He has a hard time coming to grips that one of the two-leggeds can infiltrate a lair like that and kill a pack leader.

  The red-infused images from the remaining pack members echo in his mind, becoming a single voice of rage. They may have entered and taken out Sandra, but they won’t escape the wrath of the pack. Although Michael can’t believe that only one or a scant few infiltrated a lair as large as Sandra’s, he has to think this is so. If there were more, they would have been found, and he would have witnessed the ensuing fight.

  The anger coming from the pack blocks out specific images, but he feels that the pack is close to getting in. Once that happens, the two-leggeds will be torn apart. He feels his mouth water at the prospect and wishes he were there to partake in the rending of flesh, especially flesh and blood so sweet. His surroundings fade as he slips into their bloodlust.

  The rage he feels coming from the pack changes to confusion. Images filter outward of an empty room with the body of Sandra lying on the floor amidst overturned chairs. Fear brings his surroundings back into focus.

  Where could the two-leggeds have gone?

  Just as quickly, another image forms of two-leggeds racing down a corridor. How they were able to get out of the room is beyond him, but they have been spotted, and he follows the chase through the images sent from the pack. Corners race by; he feels the eagerness of those nearing the two-leggeds as the pack closes in. They may have escaped from the room, but they won’t make it out of the lair.

  Several members vanish as the chase progresses, but, judging from the images, it will soon be over. White hot agony from a pack member intrudes into his thoughts. Then, the images of the two-leggeds are gone. Frustration and rage emanate from the
pack. Michael shuts them out. His own anger is still strong, but beginning to recede. One of his problems, Sandra, has been taken care of; but his other, the two-leggeds, has escalated.

  If they are capable of this, then they are much more dangerous than he gave them credit. They must go or he must move his pack. Both cannot exist in the same place. He feels deep down that his pack is in more danger than ever. Their very survival is in question. Now…whether to attack or pull back? As he stalks back to his place, he ponders what the right answer is. He’ll need to think about it more. For now, they’ll hunt as they always have.

  As he lays down in an attempt to get some rest, he opens up and sends out a message to the remaining members of Sandra’s pack to join him the next night.

  A Past Remembered

  Gav, code name Nahmer, crouches next to a pile of rubble near an intersection. The debris from a partially fallen wall spills across the sidewalk and out into the street – most likely caused from a mortar blast or RPG. Looking to her left and right down the cross streets, she sees nothing moving in the green glow of her NVGs. More rubble and the burned out husks of cars sit silently along the edges of a road littered with the debris of battle; the pockmarked walls attesting to the ferocity and volume of fire that has been exchanged at this intersection over time.

  This particular location has changed hands many times and no one is sure who owns it now. But, whoever has it, it is a sure that it will change hands again. For the time being, though, it is quiet, which is exactly the way she wants it. Sporadic gunfire in the distance says that’s not the case everywhere, some other intersection is being contested. The jagged shapes of the surrounding buildings are outlined when the night sky occasionally flashes from a mortar round or RPG striking a target, the dull roar echoing down the streets seconds later.