Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) (52 page)

When the lady on the bike was gone, the men came from the shacks and had several rifles pointed in all directions.

“Be careful, boys,” one of the men said. “I smell a trap.”

When they had walked up to the man on the gurney, they could see it was Cade.

“It’s Cade, Tom’s boy,” another man said.

“Let’s get him inside. It’s freezing out here,” he said as he knelt down to touch his forehead. “He’s on fire.”

“Is he going to make it?”

“How would I know? I’m not a doctor.”

“Well, if he’s half the man his father was, he’ll pull through.”

Another man stepped forward and said, “Wait a minute, guys. Let’s not forget that Cade came up missing the night Tom, Ralph, Ted, and Steve were killed in their sleep.”

“You don’t think Cade killed his own father, do you?”

“I would certainly hope not, but I feel more comfortable keeping him secure until we get answers.”

“Then move him inside. Be quick about it. If he’s caught the fever, he’ll be dead in this weather.”

The men moved Cade inside one of the shacks where they had a wood-burning stove. Several logs were already in the fire. They moved Cade close to the fire, but had taken off a couple layers of his clothing to help break the fever. Clean bandages were long gone, so one of the men used a sheet to cut strips for wrapping his head.

“That’s about all we can do for him right now.”

“Hey, Donnie,” one of the men said to another.

“Yeah?”

“That girl on the bike, was that the same chick that tried to blow his head off?”

“I don’t think so. The girl that shot Cade had long brown hair. This girl had short black hair.”

“I don’t think so,” another man said. “That was the girl. That’s the only reason I didn’t take her out. I figured they had come back to finish us off.”

There was a great disagreement in the room about the appearance of the girl that shot Cade. While they were arguing, Cade had awakened from his sleep and was eavesdropping on their conversation. At first, he was unaware of his whereabouts, but soon recognized some of the faces and realized that he had been compromised by being brought back to Marion. He could tell by their discussion that they didn’t know he was responsible for killing their friends.

In a low mumbled voice, Cade picked up the conversation. “It was her.”

The men heard Cade speak and moved to his side.

“Take it easy, brother. You’re in bad shape and need more rest.”

“The girl,” Cade continued. “She’s the one that shot me in the head. She came back for me while we slept. She took me at gunpoint and threatened to finish me off if I didn’t cooperate. I think she hurt my dad.”

The men looked at each other and were saddened to have to be the bearers of bad news.

“Cade, she killed your father,” Donnie said.

“No! I don’t believe you,” he cried out. His act of anguish fooled all of them. “Take me to him.”

“We buried him out back, Cade. We had a really nice memorial for him.”

Cade closed his eyes and feigned sleep.

“The poor guy has been through so much,” one of the men said.

“We’ve got to come up with a plan to stop them. This can’t continue. They’re just toying with us.”

“We need some wheels if we are to have any hope of catching up to them.”

“Stop and think about what you guys are saying! This is a suicide mission!” Donnie barked.

“It’s one girl!”

“She’s just the decoy. It was just her before and then the storm came.”

“Old man Sutton still has a running car,” yet another man blurted out.

“If you guys go after them, I’m out. It’s a sure death,” Donnie said.

“Go ask Sutton if he’ll trade the car for a hunting rifle with ammunition.”

It was as if the other men weren’t listening to the words that Donnie was saying. He was sure that this was a different girl than the one that shot Cade, but the others weren’t hearing it. They had made up their minds that she was the guilty one and they were going to catch her and stop her murderous rampage. Cade heard everything and was keeping mental notes. He lay there quietly, biding his time, as the sun was coming down on Marion.

Benton, Illinois

Jess watched Nathan carefully for the signal to breach the door to the apartment. The faint muffled sounds of human voices were in the air as Nathan held out his fingers and counted down from three. When he reached zero, he kicked the door the rest of the way open and the group filed into the apartment room with guns aiming center mass on several dozen men, women, and children, both standing and lying on the floor, and furniture. They were coughing into the air as they were both startled and scared at the strangers’ unwelcomed entrance.

Nathan saw Blake helping a man lying in the corner.

“He’s dead,” Blake said.

“What have you done?” Nathan said.

“I’m helping these people. They’re sick.”

“You’ve put us all in danger. Outside, now!” Nathan commanded.

“These people aren’t violent. Look at them!”

“Yeah, look at ’em! They’re sick and now you’ve exposed not only yourself but us to an unknown sickness.”

“Blake,” Jess said, “he’s right. We don’t have hospitals or vaccines or pharmacies. If we get sick, that’s it.”

Blake stood up and walked over to the doorway. Nathan provided cover to the rear of the room and looked upon the sick people. He knew their fate was sealed, but was more scared that the group might now be exposed to the same sickness. Blake had been touching them and there was no running water or soap to wash his hands. It was a truly frightening scenario for Nathan, who had tried so hard to protect the Posse.

Blake was now leading the way down the stairs and out of the apartment. His rifle, which was slung over his shoulder when he was trying to help the sick people, was now at the ready as he prepared to exit the storm door. Jess was directly behind Blake, just two steps up, when he took his final step. A high-caliber shot was fired from outside the building, and the round penetrated Blake’s chest, exiting just inches away from Jess’s legs. Blake fell straight down, as if his legs had been taken from him. In a quick reaction, Jess lunged forward to catch Blake. That’s when she saw a squad of UN Biocontrol troops armed with AK-47s. They were garbed in white, head-to-toe hazmat suits and had breathing apparatuses on their faces and heads.

Realizing what had happened, she turned and shouted, “Back up the stairs, now.”

Everybody ran backwards up the stairs. Jess was the last one in the apartment. She kicked the door closed and was thoughtful enough to not touch anything with her hands.

“What happened, Jess?” Nathan shouted.

“UN troops, outside, in biogear.”

“Blake!” Nathan called out.

“He’s done, Nathan,” Jess said. “They hit his spine and dropped him. He’s dead weight now.”

Nathan’s mind was racing as he looked at the sick people and realized he was stuck in the worse possible scenario.

Nathan looked at Jess and saw that she still had a handkerchief over her face.

“Cover your faces,” he told the group.

Looking at the sickened people, Nathan found the boy that was walking around and appeared healthy.

“Where’s the front door?” he asked the boy.

The kid pointed to the right, down a hallway. The group started in that direction, stepping over people that were lying on the floor as they went. The group cleared two rooms and found another staircase leading down. Nathan kicked the door open and the group ran outside with their rifles aimed in either direction up the street. As they ran in a northward direction, Nathan kept in mind that he needed to head back south, but the UN troops were most likely waiting for them on the other side. When they had cleared the street, the men that shot Blake came awkwardly running around to the other side of the building, where they now had visual on Nathan, Jess, and the others as they were heading deeper into town.

As they maneuvered from block to block, avoiding armed UN troops in white hazmat suits, they began seeing more signs that had apparently been set up by Civil Obedience and Biocontrol units. The signs ranged from UN-Controlled Zone to Biohazard Zone to Martial Law. Blocking the rim of every city block within eyesight was concertina wire. The sight reminded Nathan of some of the postapocalyptic novels he once had sitting upon his bookshelf. Not only did he enjoy reading them, but it had an allure that satisfied his curiosity about how the end would come. He tried reading zombie and nuclear biohazard novels, but could never find a niche in such a possibility. The real-world novels, like EMP attacks, martial law, and cataclysmic natural events, interested him most. He gleaned whatever he could from the authors that had studied such things, but nothing could have prepared him for what life after liberty would offer.

Gunfire picked back up, causing Nathan, Jess, and the others to tuck their heads as they ran along the concertina wire and into another building that was across the street west of the concertina wire.

“This is not ideal,” Nathan shouted. “This is not how the story ends.”

This building was all lower level and had boarded-up windows. It was impossible for the group to see what was waiting for them, if anything at all, on the back side of the door.

There was limited light in the building, making it difficult to see what was in the room.

Jess, like the others, had broken from the group once they were in the building, and began searching for other exits.

“Over here!” she shouted, having found a doorway that led to yet another room with an exit sign above the exterior door.

The group ran towards her while she peeked her head outside to see if it was clear to exit. Hearing only voices, she said, “Move, now!”

The group moved as a unit back out onto the street. Jess attempted to lead them south, back to the rally point, but they were hearing lots of gunfire in that direction.

Nathan looked over his shoulder and saw several Biocontrol troops chasing after them. Nathan, thinking quickly, grabbed Jess by the wrist and said, “This way.”

The group turned towards Nathan and Jess and ran down an alleyway, around the corner, and into another building.

“Upstairs,” Nathan shouted.

The group ran up the stairs and into an apartment building, above an old storefront, that had been abandoned for years.

“Seems like nothing’s locked up these days,” Jess said.

“Is everybody okay?” Nathan asked the group, looking around at each of them, then turning to the window curtain for a vantage point. “It’s no use. It’s getting too dark to see anything.”

“We’re going to have to stay here until we can see where we’re going,” one of the men said.

“I’m going to have to agree with that. Jess, do you have any chemlights left?”

“Let me check.”

The old Posse members had been told to keep their equipment wherever they wanted, but consistently keep it there. Then, in the event of an emergency, you would know where to look.

Jess took her pack off and went right to the position of the chemlights and took them out.

“I have two,” she said.

“Don’t break them yet,” Nathan instructed. “Does anybody else have any?”

The other members of the small group took their packs off and located only two more.

“That’s four. Save them until we absolutely need them.”

“It’s freezing in here,” Jess said.

“I know.”

Nathan looked around the room and at the window.

“What’s running through your head?” Jess asked.

“Did you see that old stove in the kitchen?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s got a vent. Maybe we can heat the kitchen with a small fire over the stove and not have to worry about the light being seen from that window.”

“What about the smoke?”

“I don’t think there’ll be enough smoke to make a stink. Besides, it might be concealed under the cover of darkness.”

“I have a roll of duct tape,” one of the men said.

“Perfect,” Nathan said, taking the duct tape from the man. “Thanks, Bill.”

Bill was a quiet man and always willing to help. He’d joined the group in Marion and had since proven himself an asset to the team.

Nathan started placing tape on the window in strips that ran vertically, until the entire window was lightproof.

“Wood?” Jess asked.

“There’s furniture right there. Chemlights, please,” Nathan asked as he pulled his Ka-Bar out of its sheath.

Others joined Nathan as he began dismantling a couch.

“Too bad for the couch. I was hoping you men would let the lady sleep on it tonight.”

“What lady?” Nathan asked.

Jess slapped his arm and looked over to one of the men leaning back on the door that they had come in. She was thankful to have a good team and individuals with clear heads enough to think about the important details, like guarding a door.

It’s going to be a long night,
she thought.

Pyongyang, North Korea

Kil Jong Ho was a ruthless North Korean dictator. He had inherited his rule from his ancestors who had ruled before him. The iron-fisted approach to control had been the norm for several decades. For years, his regime and the regimes of his forefathers were kept under the thumbs of the Chinese dynasty. Years of appeasements by the United States led only to a more emboldened North Korea. Sanctions placed against the evil regime barely had an impact. The people of North Korea starved while the ruler lived in luxury. Secret financial aid from China always seemed to find its way into his mansion. The Chinese knew they were paying for a friend, but the people of North Korea only saw empty tables. Kil Jong Ho blamed it on US sanctions, causing hate to brew in the minds and hearts of the ignorant. As far as Kil Jong was concerned, Councilor Pao was a friend, loyal to the communist cause of North Korea. When Pao was murdered, he blamed the Americans and forged a campaign to further his anti-American rhetoric.

Kil Jong had no patience for the Russians, the French, or the Iranians, so when the time came to launch an attack on America, he did not hesitate.

For years Kil Jong had been gloating about his missile capabilities and saw no reason why he shouldn’t demonstrate North Korea’s might.