DEAD: Reclamation: Book 10 of the DEAD series (32 page)

Knowing that she had at least two minutes, Catie waited for the sentry to pass before scurrying to the tent. She held her breath and listened. There was no conversation. That could be a good thing. If Erin was in this tent, and if she were to be alone, then this might actually work.

Taking out her knife, she slowly worked it into the seam at the base of the tent. Once she had a good four or five inches, she laid down flat and tried to peer inside. Her heart slammed in her chest as adrenaline flooded her.

Sitting with her back to where Catie had made the cut was her target. Even better, Erin was alone. She was seated at a small desk writing something. Catie knew her time was almost up, she crept back to her hiding place and waited for the sentry to pass once more. As soon as he or she rounded a corner and vanished, Catie returned to Erin’s tent.

“…will become a light in this time of darkness. I invite you to join me, and together we can ensure that we never again suffer such a heinous attack. I realize this will test some of you, but just remember our lost children. And not just my own, many of you feel my pain at this moment as the wounds of that loss are still fresh. We have taken down one of their leaders, but we must not stop there…”

Catie had heard enough. The woman was rehearsing a speech that Catie wanted to be certain was never given. She made a mental note to be sure and grab those pages as well. She would not want them to be discovered and used as some rally cry for these people.

Her knife cut through another several inches of the base of the tent. Catie had to retreat once more, but she knew that she would need to make her move on this next trip. That slice could be discovered if Erin turned her head.

As soon as the opportunity presented itself with the passing of that rover, Catie crouched and scurried to her handiwork once more. She laid flat and looked in again, using her index finger to just barely lift the tent. Erin was still at her desk, and currently bent over. This was where she would either succeed or fail.

Lifting the bottom edge just enough, Catie held her breath and pushed her head in. For a split second, she considered just thrusting through and attacking wildly. She would never escape alive, but she would still have enough time to kill this woman with her own hands before help arrived.

No, she was going to live. She was going to kill this woman and then return home to tell the others of his fate so that they could honor Kevin in a way he deserved. She knew that the people of Beresford would want to do that. Kevin had been well liked, if not loved, by the people of that community.

Instead, she moved as slowly as possible so as to not bring attention to herself. Erin continued to write at her desk just about twenty feet away. Catie wondered briefly why a single woman needed such a large space and decided that it really did not matter. She was almost all the way through the cut she had created when Erin stopped writing. Catie had been watching her intently, looking for any sign that the woman might sense her presence or become aware that she was no longer alone.

When Erin set her pencil down, Catie tensed. If need be, she would change tactics and charge this woman. There was no way that she would get this close and then fail.

Catie was all the way in now, and Erin remained at her desk. From her vantage point, it now looked as if the young woman was reading her speech. Catie rose and shifted her location just slightly in order to be exactly behind Erin. She did not want the woman to catch sight of her in her peripheral vision.

Knife in hand, she crept forward, one silent step after another. It took all of her self-control not to just charge and be done with it. Why was she being cautious? What did she have to live for? But she knew the answer to that question. It had been her final secret. One that she had intended to share after they made it official as to where they would settle down. She had not wanted Kevin’s mind to be clouded. She wanted him to make his choice based on his usual logic. Unfortunately, things had not worked out as planned and she had blurted it out when they had been captured.

She only wished that she was far enough along that she could feel it kick or something. All she knew for certain was that she had a child inside her. Sometime in the last several weeks, maybe one night when they made love under the stars that lit the sky in a way that a person had to see to believe. It was a sight that she never tired of, and the fact that they had spent so many of those nights together these past several months was a consolation, although it did nothing to mitigate the loss she felt.

She was two steps away when the woman set the pages down and stood. Catie had to act now. She closed the last few feet just as Erin turned. Before the woman could scream, Catie reversed the hold of her knife and punched the shocked woman in the throat, killing any possibility of sound that might have escaped as the voice box crunched under the blow.

Like a viper, Catie struck again to be sure and used that forward momentum to grab the woman in her arms and guide her to the ground, sprawling on her with her body acting as a restraining weight. Catie brought a knee into the midsection as hard as she could. There was only a slight whistle of air escaping, and Erin’s mouth opened as if to scream, but not even the slightest squeak came from the effort.

“Remember me, bitch?” Catie breathed in the woman’s ear.

Erin just stared up at her, tears now leaking from the corners of her eyes. The confusion was enough of an answer. She had not made the connection yet. Well, Catie did not want to waste time. As much as she would have loved to make this woman suffer agony for a thousand hours and then a thousand more, she needed to act and then get out.

“I am Kevin’s wife!”

Realization flashed in an instant, but was only allowed to remain for a second before pain and fear shoved their way back into Erin’s expressive eyes. Catie smiled the smile of satisfaction and then brought her knife in and up. She felt the heart muscle resist for just a second before the blade pierced it. When Catie withdrew, blood came in a rush and Erin’s feet twitched furiously.

Catie rose and looked down into the wide open and now empty eyes of her husband’s killer. Leaning over, she snatched the pages of the speech and stuffed then into her shirt. With only slightly less caution, Catie peered out into the darkness. She knew her night vision was wasted by the brilliant glow of the lanterns in the tent, but she waited long enough that she eventually heard more than saw the roving sentry walk past.

Slipping out of the tent, Catie melted into the shadows. The laughter of Cherish Brandini tempted her, but she had done what she set out to do. Now it was time to go home.

DEAD
returns

April 15, 2015

But turn the page for a sneak preview of

DEAD:Snapshot—Portland, Oregon

Coming soon…

1

It Begins

“…as reports continue to come in, we will do our best to keep you informed,” the pretty blond talking head on the television said.

Ken Simpson was not fooled in the slightest. He opened his hall closet and pulled the long, black case out from behind his array of coats, jackets, hoodies, and windbreakers.

Walking in to his living room, he glanced out the huge picture frame window to the street. It was just getting dark and there were no signs of kids playing or joggers pounding the sidewalk. He was about to return his attention to the case when something caught his eye. It was the Calloway dog.

Brandy or Bailey or some other alcohol related name. He never cared enough to remember, and that was a good thing. If Ken Simpson knew the name of a dog in the neighborhood, chances are it usually ended up with a pellet in the ass. This dog had never used his yard as its personal toilet. Of course that spoke more of the owner, Ken knew that. But, since he would probably have ended up in jail a long time ago if he’d been shooting the dogs’ owners instead of the dogs—

The dog stopped suddenly and craned its head back over its shoulder. The animal bared its teeth, growling loud enough to be heard in the house. Ken moved to the door and opened it. The Golden Retriever paused and turned his direction. Its collar and leash were on, but the chunky balding man who he always saw at the other end of that bright pink leash was nowhere to be found.

A low moan made Ken look down the street in the same direction the dog was looking. What he saw actually made his knees buckle just a little. The owner of the Golden Retriever was headed this way.

***

Rose Tinnes followed the winding road as it took her deep into Washington Park. She loved her evening runs even more now that she had shed almost two hundred pounds of useless fat: her husband…make that
ex
-husband Frank. The last straw had been when she caught him following her in his car.

Frank had been certain that her running was nothing more than a rouse to hide the fact that she was having an affair. He had said that it provided the perfect alibi when she came home drenched in sweat. Maybe if he’d gotten his fat ass off the couch on occasion he would understand that a person can sweat if they actually performed some sort of physical activity that did not involve holding the controller to an Xbox.

At almost six feet tall, Rose was a slender young woman. Twenty-six years old in a week, she was in the best shape of her life physically. The divorce had taken some emotional toll, but she knew she would recover from that in no time. Her shoulder-length hair was brown, but got just a shade lighter in the summer to where she could pass for sandy blond. Her athletic figure had been a source of disappointment when she was younger and many of her girlfriends were starting to look more feminine, but now she was almost grateful. Breasts were a pain when it came to running. Besides, it kept men’s eyes on her face; unless they were fans of legs and buns.

Her earbuds were pumping some nice classical as she pushed herself just a bit harder when she reached the steepest hill of her run. Some folks might like to jam the hard stuff when they ran, but Rose found that classical took her away from the world and almost made her forget that she was running.

She came to a sharp switchback turn and knew that she was hitting the toughest part of her trek. It was sheer reflex that allowed her to leap just in the nick of time to avoid the figure sprawled across the narrow road.

Her hands swiped at the thin cords, yanking the earbuds free. Out of habit, she had already hit the button that paused her run tracking app. She hated nothing more than being timed while she stood waiting to cross a street; it completely screwed up her average per mile pace.

“Hey?” she called softly. She took a tentative step forward and realized that the dark shadow on the road was from a slowly growing pool of blood.

Plucking her phone free from the armband she wore, Rose quickly called 9-1-1. After a few seconds as the signal bounced its way to a tower, there was the blessed sound of ringing. After over a dozen rings, Rose glanced at her display to ensure she had dialed correctly.

“You have reached the City of Portland Emergency Dispatch Center…all lines are currently busy…” the computerized voice droned.

***

Jason Johnson stepped through the gate. It wasn’t much, but in that single step, he had gone from being an inmate and “guest” of the Oregon Department of Corrections to being a free man. Well, sort of anyway. He still had a parole officer to report to, but he knew that was going to be temporary. He would be walking the straight line this time.

This latest stint down had cost him everything. Apparently that had been what it took for him to decide that he needed to make some major life changes. He’d walked away from the gang inside. That had been tough. The subsequent assaults to try to get him to change his mind had been futile. If nothing else, they had convinced him that he was on the right path.

The large city bus pulled up to the stop and he climbed aboard. The driver gave him
that
look. It was obvious. The old version of Jason would have said something nasty to the obscenely overweight man who had given him the stink eye as he swiped the state-issued card that would provide him with bus fare for the next forty-eight hours. This version simply smiled politely and walked to the rear of the bus.

Sitting down, he took a moment to look around. It had been seven years this time. An old home invasion he had actually committed before his last stretch had come back to haunt him. One of the guys on that ride had been busted for some major shit. He had dropped dimes on everybody in the crew in order to get a deal put on the table that would not see him strapped to a table and given the lethal needle.

Jason stared out the window as the bus rumbled past a strip mall. He spotted a coffee shack and his mouth began to water in response. Then he saw something else that made him question his eyesight. Reaching up, he tugged the cord that rang the chime indicating the driver needed to stop at the next bus stop.

He jumped up as the bus slowed. The driver seemed to give the brakes an extra hard tap which sent him lurching forward. Jason’s eyes shot up and locked on those of the driver as he scowled in his big rearview mirror.

“Not worth it, pal,” he whispered to himself.

The doors opened with a hiss and Jason gripped his small carry bag and jumped off. He would catch the next one. He still had a few hours before he needed to be at his PO’s office. He had seen something, and if he saw what he thought he saw, maybe he would start off on a good foot with whoever got his case. Besides, when he got on that next bus, it wouldn’t be right in front of the Columbia River Correctional Institution. Maybe the driver would just treat him like every other passenger.

Jason ran across the lot and headed for the alley that ran alongside the strip mall. There was a dingy cinder block wall that made an alley along the side of the mall and allowed just enough room for a pedestrian or bicycle.

As he got close, he could hear something odd. It sounded like wet slurping or smacking, like somebody with really bad table manners. That had him puzzled. He rounded the corner and froze.

He had believed that he had spotted a possible rape in progress. He had seen the figure grab the other and drag it down. Jason had just assumed…

“My God,” he breathed.

A body was, in fact, sprawled on the asphalt. There was a dark pool spreading out from it. However, the attacker was not raping the victim. In fact, the attacker was a woman. But her face was a dark mask. He knew it was blood despite the early morning hour preventing any real light as gloomy shadows struggled to maintain their foothold for just a while longer.

The victim was on his back. Despite the relative darkness, Jason could see that the man had been ripped open at the belly. The woman had had her face buried in that ugly tear until he arrived on the scene. Now, her head was up, something dark and thick dripping from her mouth and landing with a wet splat on the concrete.

Jason backed up and turned to run, but a bright flash of white light blinded him momentarily and caused him to halt. The light blinked off and an older lady emerged from her car. She eyed Jason with suspicion. After all, it was barely six in the morning, and here he was at the edge of the alley running alongside the strip mall, caught in the headlights just as he was obviously about to flee.

“I don’t want any trouble,” the woman warned in a shaky voice. Her hand went into her pocket and emerged gripping a phone.

“Call the cops!” Jason exclaimed.

He glanced over his shoulder just as the woman in the alley was taking her first steps his direction. But then the man on the ground sat up, his insides spilling from the hole torn in his gut. The older lady with the phone looked confused.

“Call them…NOW!” Jason spun and backed up, his eyes not daring to leave the sight of the pair heading his way from that dark alley. He heard an audible gasp as the pair emerged.

Good
, he thought,
now maybe she will call—

The thought vanished when he heard the thud and a soft clatter. He spun to see the woman lying unconscious on the ground, her phone a few feet away where it had skittered after her hand relaxed and let go.

Without giving it another thought, he ran to the woman, scooped her up and carried her to the car. The driver’s side door was still open and he shoved her in, pushing her awkwardly over to the passenger’s seat.

As he put the car in gear and stomped on the gas, he had the briefest thought.
Maybe I would have been safer in prison.