Tribulation (Soulless Wanderers, #0)

by Drew Strickland

  “Libby? You here?” he asked loud enough that anyone in the room could hear. There was no answer. He checked the bathroom, but it was empty. He turned around, finding only himself in the room. Where did she go?

  He went to her bag that sat neatly on the bed. He sat next to it, causing the mattress to push in. The bag tilted and fell to the floor. “Dammit.” He bent down to pick it up. It had a drawstring at the top where it bunched up and closed. When he pulled it to the bed, half of the contents spilled out onto the floor. “Fuck.”

  He knelt down and started picking up the clothes and other items that spilled out. There was a passport underneath the blouse that fell. He opened it up and looked at the picture. It was Libby, but her hair was pitch black in the picture. Next to the picture, the name read Alexandra Wade. “What the fuck?” He looked in the bag and saw more. He dumped it all out on the floor. There were at least ten different passports that fell out. Their blue covers scattered across the cheap carpet.

  He opened them all up. They were all pictures of Libby, but different hairstyles. Some of them she wore glasses, others were with red hair. It was all different variations of the same person he knew to be Libby. The names were all different, too: Amanda Clark, Marlene Carrey, Harriet O’Toole, and many others. Finally, one read Elizabeth Lewis. Was that who she was? Elizabeth Lewis? Or was she Marlene Carrey, or any of the other names on these passports? Was she anyone she said she was?

  Daniel dropped everything on the floor. It all hit him at once. He had told her everything about him. But he knew nothing about her. Not only did he know nothing, but she lied to him. What else was she lying about? Who was this girl? Nothing felt right at the moment, but he remembered something she told him.

  I won’t be threatened, and I won’t be told what to do. Daniel ran out of the room. He had told her exactly where the bunker was and she had enough time to make it there on foot by now.

  15

  Daniel got out of the Bronco. He drove so fast, his mind racing even faster, that he couldn’t remember all the twists and turns of the road to get there. The leaves crunched underneath his feet. He stepped to the base of the hill, seeing the small red metal the top. It felt quiet here. It felt wrong. He thought he knew what he was going to find at the top of the hill, but he kept pushing it from his mind. He had to find out for himself. He forced himself to take every single step up the hill. When he got to the top, the door was open about a foot.

  He slowly pushed the door inward. The first thing he noticed was the blood. It was always about the blood with him. He could smell the iron in the air. A small trail of light red started at the entrance, but as he followed it inside, it became darker, deeper and thicker. He looked up at the wall above the couch. There was a large smear of blood. At first, Daniel was too stunned to see it, but as he kept looking, he saw that it was a message.

  Now you’re free.

  He looked down on the other side of the couch and saw Greg. He saw his friend there in a puddle of his own blood. He didn’t move. Daniel got closer, each step causing his heart to race faster. Was this really happening? Was his best friend, his only friend, dead? He knelt down and put his hand against Greg’s neck. Before he could feel a pulse, Greg took a deep breath.

  “Greg! Greg, it’s gonna be okay.” Daniel said it. He didn’t know if he meant it or not, but he said it. If it was a lie, it was a lie for him more than it was for Greg. Daniel saw in Greg’s eyes that he was well aware of what was happening. Daniel was the one who had to accept it. “What can I do to help? Tell me Greg, just tell me.”

  Greg gurgled but couldn’t talk. Instead, blood came out of his mouth in waves. He put his hand to the floor and started to spell.

  L-I-B-B-Y

  “I’m so sorry, Greg. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” Daniel cried. It was the first time he ever truly cried from actually feeling something inside. It was the worst feeling he’d ever felt. This was the opposite of feeling alive. It was like someone reached inside his chest and pulled at his heart. The weight inside him sank into him. He couldn’t pick it up.

  Greg continued to gurgle, more and more blood coming out. Daniel saw the pain in his friends face and looked back to his hand. Greg started to write again. The blood smeared around sloppily, but Daniel could still read it. He wiped the tears away and shook his head.

  E-N-D I-T

  “I can’t. You can’t ask me to do that.” Daniel shook his head more, the tears flying off his face. Greg grabbed him with as firm a grip that the dying man could manage. The blood soaked into Daniel’s shirt, but it didn’t matter. Daniel looked into his friend’s eyes and saw the determination. Greg was ready. Daniel had never been surer of anything in his life. He knew the look of someone facing down death, and Greg wasn’t scared.

  Daniel pulled his knife out from his belt and placed it against his only friend’s throat. “I’m so sorry, my friend.” He sank the knife deep into his throat. There was already blood everywhere, so anything new spilling out was lost in the puddle. Greg lifted a lip in a small smile, then went completely limp. Greg was dead and Daniel was lost.

  16

  One way or another, someone was going to die.

  Daniel had decided in his mind. It didn’t matter who got in the way, or who saw what was happening. He was going to kill Libby, or at least die trying. Maybe both of them would die, and that would be just fine for him. He had felt completely alone most of his upbringing. It wasn’t until Greg found him that he finally felt the opposite. Then it was when Greg brought him up here, showed him the bunker, that he felt like he belonged somewhere. None of it lasted long, but it was enough. It was enough to make him feel a total loss when everything fell apart. And it was all his fault.

  Greg had been right about Libby all along. He had been right about everything all along. Greg wasn’t selfish. Sure, he had to look out for himself and not get dragged through the dirt, but he could have written Daniel off completely. But he didn’t. That was Greg’s downfall. Daniel thought about all the warnings Greg had given him, but he never listened. Greg still held on, hoping Daniel would come around and see it his way, but Daniel never did, until it was too late. Now Greg was dead for no other reason than Daniel’s fuck ups. He paid the ultimate price for being someone’s friend.

  Daniel looked at the motel coming up and pulled into the parking lot. There were a lot more people than there were just moments earlier. He stepped out of the Bronco and made his way to the crowd at the clerk’s office. A few men and women gathered outside of the office. The door was wide open and some people gasped as they stepped up to it. Daniel leaned into an older woman, her grey hair up in a bun.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “Some woman. I’m not sure. It looked like she was trying to rob the guy. She attacked him. It’s horrible. Blood everywhere.”

  “She killed the man?” Daniel asked as everyone tried to take their peeks and glances. It was like bugs to a light. They were all drawn to it. It reminded him of himself, drawn to the blood. Everyone had a little bloodlust inside of them. Even if they didn’t want to cause it, they couldn’t turn from it.

  She nodded. “They killed each other.”

  “What?” Daniel pushed through the crowd and stood in the doorway.

  “Don’t go in there, man, the police are on their way,” some guy said from behind him.

  It didn’t matter. He didn’t plan on going inside. He could see it all from where he stood. It was a blood bath. The clerk was in the corner of the office, behind the desk. His television still played some random show in the background. The man looked like he had been stabbed multiple times in the chest. Each wound was a center of dark red inside a lighter red circle. The blood had poured out of him and down his shirt. Up at his throat was where the most damage was done. It was slit underneath his jaw. It looked deep, and the clerk’s hand was clasped against it. No matter how much pressure, there was no way anyone was going to survive something like that. The clerk’s eyes were empty and point
ed down. Daniel followed them to the shotgun that laid on the floor in front of him.

  “It looks like she got the damage in, but he was still quick. Everyone knew that Efram kept the shotgun under the counter. He never had to use it before. I don’t recognize who that girl is, although there’s not much to go off of. Makes you wonder if she’s the one from Penny’s,” the old woman said to Daniel, still staring at the aftermath. She had somehow made it up to the front of the group and put a hand on Daniel’s arm. He didn’t pull away.

  The woman was right. There wasn’t much to identify. The shotgun had done some gruesome work. A close range shot to the face. There was nothing left, just bits of blood and brain. She wore a small blouse with her bra straps showing over her bloody shoulders. There was a clump of brown hair around where her head should be. Inside the clump was a small streak of purple. It was Libby.

  “Looks like the girl got what she deserved in the end. Poor Efram, though. He wasn’t a bad guy. Just mostly kept to himself.”

  Daniel nodded, staring down at the bodies. Libby had done some real work on Efram, but finally bit off more than she could chew. She couldn’t con her way out of this one. Daniel heard the sirens in the distance. It was time for him to leave before anyone asked questions, especially with Greg’s blood soaked into his clothes. Greg had always taught him to avoid any situation involving police. And as he now knew, Greg had been right about everything. He took one last glance and saw that she didn’t have her bag. He separated himself from the crowd and quickly ran up the stairs. The door was still loose from when he broke into it.

  Inside, it was almost how he left it. Libby must have come up here and saw that Daniel had made the discovery. Maybe she needed money and was going to run. She seemed to take Greg out pretty easily, so he wasn’t sure why she would have wanted to run from Daniel. Did she really care about him? Did she not want to kill him? Did any of it matter in the end? No, it didn’t. Greg was dead. Libby was dead. And Daniel was alone. She called it freedom, but he knew it as loneliness. He wondered if she was anything of who she said she was, or if it was all just a long con to screw with him and Greg. Were any of the aliases real, or at least partly true?

  He looked around the room. He would never find out. There was one thing that worried him most. Her bag was nowhere to be found.

  —-

  Daniel stared at the spot in the dirt where many years ago he had buried his only friend. It seemed like a lifetime ago, especially now in this new world. Images of the sweat, tears, and blood flashed through his mind from that day. It still stung to think about it. It was like opening a never closing wound. At the very least, it was a good reminder of why he was better off alone. The world didn’t need to give Daniel anything, and he didn’t need to give anything to the world.

  Behind him, he could hear the groans and shuffling of feet through the forest. The soulless were back, and he was close to the bunker. It was time to start moving before he got too caught up in the past. Focusing on moving forward was the only way to stay alive. That was one rule that still remained valid from the old world.

  * * *

  <<<<>>>>

  Get Soulless Wanderers Book 1 Now!

  Join my Reader’s List

  Join my list to receive notifications on new releases and promotions from me! Plus receive a free book just for joining!

  * * *

  It is free and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  * * *

  Join my Reader’s List!

  About the Author

  Drew Strickland is the author of the post-apocalyptic series Soulless Wanderers. When he isn’t writing, he enjoys reading, watching horror movies and spending time with his wife and children.

  * * *

  www.drewstricklandbooks.com

  Copyright © 2018 by Drew Strickland

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Clarissa Yeo