False Prey: A Wildfire Novella (Wildfire Saga)

Contents

Title Page/Copyright

Books by Marcus Richardson

Contact Info

Dedication

Note on Chronology

Half Title

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Review False Prey

Buy the next book

Author's Note

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Author Contact Info

Books by Marcus Richardson

Half Title

MARCUS
 
RICHARDSON

© 2014 Marcus Richardson.

All Rights Reserved.

1st Printing, 2 December 2014.

This is a work of fiction.
 

The people and events in this book have been written
 

for entertainment purposes only.
 
Any similarity to living
 

and/or deceased people is purely coincidental and not intentional.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
 

in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical,
 

including photocopying, recording, or by any information
 

storage and retrieval system without prior written consent by the author.

Want to get an e-mail when my next book is released

and get a FREE eBook?

Sign up for my mailing list today!

[Books by Marcus Richardson]

THE FUTURE HISTORY
OF
AMERICA

Book I:
Alea Jacta Est

Book II:
Sic Semper Tyrannis

Book III:
Dux Bellorum

THE WILDFIRE SAGA

Book I:
Apache Dawn

Book II:
The Shift

Book III:
Firestorm

Other books in the WILDFIRE series:

False Prey
(Novella)

The Wildfire Bundle
(Books I-III)

For information on my upcoming books,

events, news and more, please visit the following:

Official Website:

http://marcus1776richards.wix.com/home

The Freeholder Blog:

http://thefreeholder.wordpress.com

To receive the latest news on upcoming releases and inside information
 

(including exclusive content for subscribers) join my mailing list,
 

The Freeholder Update
.

For Sara.
 

This book would not have been possible without you.

Note
 
on
 
Chronology

T
HIS
NOVELLA
IS
set in the world of the
Wildfire
saga.
 
Set
 
a few tumultuous decades into the future, the world is a drastically different place.
 
A
 
plague of viral influenza—known scientifically as H7N9, termed by the media as the Great Pandemic or the Blue Flu and called different names by different people (Scorched Lung, Brisbane Bug) depending on their location—decimated the world’s population a decade before the start of the story in
Apache Dawn
.
 
When that book opens, the planet is just getting back to the new normal.
 
Things have stabilized and the world is trying to put the horrors of the Great Pandemic to rest.
 
The survivors are moving on.

False Prey
takes place towards the conclusion of
Apache Dawn
in the small rural town of Brikston, Kentucky and is intended to be a quasi-bridge to the next book in the saga,
The Shift
.
 
The story of Brikston can be considered stand-alone, but some of the characters and events referenced herein will be made clearer after a reading of
Apache Dawn
.

If you choose to read this story on its own merits, I hope you enjoy it.
 
I certainly had fun writing it.
 
However, if you read this after
Apache Dawn
, I hope that it will give you a broader perspective on what the civilian population experienced.

 

C
HAPTER
1

Thomas Sang crashed headlong into a garbage can and cried out in pain as he hit the ground amid the flying trash. He felt a twinge of pain in his right knee, but rolled to his side and jumped up anyway—somehow managing to hold onto his briefcase.
 
He cast a quick look over his shoulder before fleeing deeper down the trash-filled alley.
 
A distant shout pierced the unnatural silence of the afternoon.

“There!
 
Down that alley!”

Fear coursed through Thomas’ veins and made his legs feel like rubber.
 
He had to keep moving, keep running.
 
He tripped over a 2x4 laying in the small clear path amid piles of uncollected garbage bags.
 
His arms swung out for balance and the briefcase hit something.
 
It was just enough force to spring the locks on the leather case, which dutifully popped open and sent a shower documents flying through the air.

The noise from the mob behind him grew louder.
 
Thomas wouldn’t have been surprised if they had torches and pitchforks.
 
As he regained his balance and turned around, he could see shadows out in the street. The mob was getting closer.

“The hell with this.” He let the briefcase fall into the trash at his feet. Thomas sprinted straight down the throat of the alley, hoping to cut across the block and emerge on the next side street.
 
He honestly had no idea where the alley would let him out—as long as it was away from the mob of insane locals.
 
Everything hinged on him escaping.

The stench of the alley was nearly overpowering, but the fear that propelled him forward still had the upper hand.
 
As he raced to the far end of the alley and came closer to the next street, he saw an all-too-familiar sign plastered haphazardly to the brick side of a building in the distance:

REMEMBER:

WEAR YOUR MASK—

IT’S THE LAW!

Thomas frowned.
 
He would have liked nothing better than to put on a flu mask—if nothing else, it would help with the awful smells assaulting his nose.

A shout behind him provided the unnecessary reminder that he needed to keep moving.
 
He barreled into the sunlight and veered left on instinct.
 
To the right was south—that would take him closer to the center of town.
 
That would mean closer to the repair shop where his rental car languished untouched, but it would also take him closer to the police station—and that was the last place he wanted to be at the moment.

He squinted in the sudden light and found his stride on the eerily-deserted street.
 
Now all the forced exercise sessions his company insisted on for its employees were finally showing a tangible benefit.
 
He appreciated the feeling of his legs fully stretching in a ground-eating stride.
 
He tore at his shirt, ripping at the buttons in order to pull the restrictive fabric free of his pants.
 

The pounding of his loafers on the sidewalk and the pain in his shins brought home the fact that he was not in his running shoes.
 
He mentally shrugged and ignored the blisters beginning to form on his heels.
 
A glance over his shoulder as he neared an intersection was all the motivation he needed.
 
A wiry-looking teenager scrambled out of the alley and raised a skinny arm in the sun.

“There he is!”

Shit
.

A single car slowly approached the blinking red light at the intersection.
 
Thomas veered towards it on instinct.
 

“Help!” he screamed, waving his arms.
 
“Help me,
please!

The driver, a woman wearing a white mask over her mouth and nose, paused to look at him.
 
That was a good sign.
 
He tried to smile as he ran towards her car, hands out in a supplicant’s pose.
 
Then he noticed her eyes shift to focus on the mob as it appeared out of the alley behind him.
 
He saw her eyes widen, then the car’s engine roared and the tires squealed as the car bolted through the intersection.

“No!” Thomas screamed in frustration.
 
He turned left and raced down the street, trying to put as many corners between him and his pursuers as possible.
 

Not like that matters,
he told himself..
 
They’re locals, remember?
 
They know this town better than you ever will.
 
Just keep running…gotta find a good place to hide…

He reached another intersection going full speed and turned right.
 
As he vanished around the corner of an antique shop, he stole a quick glance back and saw the teenager—pulling up his baggy pants as he ran—and two men approach the intersection.
 
Thomas was pulling ahead of them—that was the first good news he’d had all day.

Just a little further,
he thought as raced into the shade of the buildings along yet another deserted street.
 
Maybe I can lose them around here…
He just had to find a place where he could hide for a second and catch his breath.
 
Maybe find a little water.

Thomas ran past a boarded-up barber shop and a bicycle shop with a hastily made, large plywood sign across its door that read
 
“CLOSED because of Flu” written in spray paint.
 
He noticed a beauty parlor across the street that was dark, but the front door stood ajar.
 
Up ahead, he saw a sign next to the sidewalk that lifted his spirits.
 
St. Stephen’s Catholic Church.
 

Perfect
.

Hoping that the people chasing him would assume he’d gone into the beauty parlor, Thomas made for the church and opened the outer door and stepped in to the vestibule.
 
He threw his back against the near wall and tried to stop his panting as he sucked down air in great gulps.
 
The cool darkness helped calm his nerves but he couldn’t help but peer out the closest window to watch the street.
 
His heart was racing, sweat trickled down his back, and the adrenaline coursing through his body urged him to keep moving.
 
Through sheer force of will, he held off the fear and compelled himself to wait and watch for just a few more seconds.

Other books

Museum of Thieves by Lian Tanner
The Awakening by Michael Carroll
A Heart Decision by Laurie Kellogg
Dreams for the Dead by Heather Crews
Totem by E.M. Lathrop
Old School by O'Shea, Daniel B.
FOR THE BABY'S SAKE by BEVERLY LONG