The Wretched Series | Book 4 | Wretched Aftermath

by Michaels, E. G.

  But it wasn’t the right time to raise her personal objection. They were minutes away from launching a critical mission. A proverbial test strike against the Reapers, that if it worked could shift the balance of the fight in their favor. They really could use a win after everything they’d been through. So for now, she’d check her personal feelings and focus on what was best for the country.

  “Hurry up and wait.” Vickers sighed. “My favorite thing to do.”

  “Madam President, we’ve got an incoming call from Hawaii.”

  “Put it on screen,” the President ordered. The image flickered, and then a harried-looking Doctor Compton appeared on one camera.

  “Doctor, we’re a few minutes away from launching the mission,” Vickers said. “If you have something to report, please make it quick.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling, Madam President,” Compton said. “I’m not sure this attack is a good idea.”

  “Care to elaborate?” Vickers said.

  “We don’t know if it will kill the Reapers or not,” Compton argued. “We don’t have enough information to say either way for sure.”

  “Doctor Compton, I appreciate your concern,” Weindahl said. “But this mission is a small test.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Compton argued. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  “Indeed,” Weindahl said. “If it works as well as we hope, then the military gains a new way to kill the Reapers without putting our troops in immediate danger.”

  “Well, what if it doesn’t?” Compton argued. “Then where the hell are we?”

  “Then we’ll know what not to do,” President Vickers said. “I appreciate your concern, Amelia, I really do. Do you have anything else for us this point?”

  “No. I’ll let you know when I do.” Compton sighed. She disconnected the call with a flourish of her hands.

  “We really need to have someone talk to her about her people skills,” Vickers quipped. “She frequently forgets who she’s talking to.”

  “I can’t say I disagree, Madam President,” Weindahl said. “I will try to find someone to discuss it with our esteemed doctor.”

  “And the odds that they will be successful?”

  “Probably pretty low,” Weindahl admitted. “But keep in mind, our options are pretty limited at this time.”

  “No, I understand,” Vickers said. “I’d rather not replace her if we don’t have to.”

  “We have a bit of time before the mission goes live,” Weindahl said. “Let me make some calls and see if I can arrange for the good doctor to get some additional coaching.”

  “That’s fine,” Vickers quipped. “I’ll just sit here and try to look presidential.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The congregation was gathered and seated in the chapel for the emergency meeting. Ezekiel stood carefully behind a speaker’s lectern. Not because he needed it to remember what he wanted to say. And not because he’d called this meeting at far too early in the morning. He really needed the lectern to help keep him steady on his feet because he had drunk a bit too much bourbon.

  But he couldn’t help it. Joseph was the one person he counted on the most. The proverbial wizard behind the curtain who knew nearly all of Ezekiel’s secrets. He knew Ezekiel wasn’t really a religious man. But Joseph kept his mouth shut every step of the way and never wavered in his support. Now, things were completely different. He had to continue to act like a cult leader handpicked by God to lead his flock. And the one person he trusted the most to help him do it was gone forever.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Ezekiel began. “I come before you with some very disturbing news and a very heavy heart. While most of us were quietly sleeping in our own beds, our beloved Joseph was murdered in his home.”

  A loud murmur began to grow. Several people began to openly sob.

  “I know you’re hurting,” Ezekiel said softly. “I’m hurting, too. We have compelling evidence that a former police officer, Malcolm Foster, is responsible.”

  The mood of the crowd began to shift, and Ezekiel could feel their anger beginning to grow.

  “The Guardians need your help,” Ezekiel continued. “I need your help. Right now. That’s why we’re meeting so early this morning. We need able-bodied men to help track down this man and bring him in to face justice.”

  “Can the Guardians do it?”

  “Of course. But they need help. This man, Foster? I believe he’s been touched by the Devil.”

  The room went immediately silent, and Ezekiel went for the proverbial kill.

  “If more brave men were to step up and assist, then the process of capturing this evil man would become far easier. I shouldn’t have to remind you that Malcolm Foster has killed members of our flock before. And now with striking down Joseph, he’s targeting the very hearts of our congregation.”

  “What about women?” a female voice called out. “Can we join the Guardians?”

  Ezekiel did a double-take. It wasn’t something that Walter had ever suggested. The previous role of the Guardians was to act as his own group of protectors and enforcers of his word. But that role had begun to change. And Silas hadn’t told him that he wouldn’t accept women in his ranks, either. He glanced at Silas, who was standing near the exit. The man’s arms were crossed, and he was slowly shaking his head side to side. Ezekiel looked away before the leader of the Guardians noticed he was looking at him.

  “Our world has become increasingly dangerous,” Ezekiel said as he carefully chose his words. “I think we’ve reached the point where any able-bodied person who is willing to join the Guardians and help protect all of us should be able to do so.”

  “Even if they got young children?” a man’s voice shouted out.

  “Being a Guardian does come with a certain amount of risk,” Ezekiel answered. “I’ll admit it, I’m a bit old-fashioned. I would be far more comfortable if mothers with young ones didn’t become a Guardian. After all, none of us can guarantee any Guardian’s safety at all times. And any mother who might be killed in the line of duty would be leaving children behind. But that shouldn’t prevent anyone from fulfilling their calling.”

  “Yeah, and what if they’re pregnant?” the same man demanded.

  “Well, I suppose they could be moved into a job role which was less physically demanding or dangerous. I would need to defer to the leader of the Guardians on what types of jobs those might be. Silas, would you care to explain this for everyone?”

  The man looked visibly uncomfortable as he walked slowly toward the lectern. Ezekiel stepped to his right, making room for the Guardian leader, and motioned for him to speak.

  “Yeah, uh, the thing is, I don’t have an exact plan for people like that,” Silas stammered. “But there’s different roles in the Guardians that don’t put someone in the line of fire. It’s kind of like our own military. Somebody has to handle communications, inventory, and lots of other stuff besides pointing a gun and shooting bad folks.”

  Ezekiel took over. “Thank you, Brother Silas. It may not be the most exciting work, but there’s a place for everyone who wants to be a Guardian to be able to help. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yeah,” Silas grumbled.

  “Excellent,” Ezekiel said with a well-practiced flourish. “That’s all I have for now. If you are interested in joining the Guardians, then please see Brother Silas at your earliest opportunity.”

  Ezekiel stepped away from the lectern and saw there were already a dozen people in line to talk to Silas. He made a strategic retreat toward his office. There was a bottle of bourbon waiting for him that he couldn’t wait to use to drown his grief.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  It was nearly sunrise, and Foster was waiting patiently for Sams to return and report what he’d discovered. He watched as the former Ranger seemed to emerge quietly out of the shadows and move slowly toward him.

  “Anything?” Foster whispered.

  “Four Reapers stationed at the next intersection,” Sams
said softly. “I thought it was supposed to be unmanned?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Foster answered. “I said we were promised an easy way out.”

  “It’s four freaking Reapers,” Sams pointed out. “We’ve got to sneak past them or kill them without drawing any extra attention. How’s that easy?”

  “Some of the other locations had two dozen,” Foster pointed out. “I’d say four is a big improvement. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I guess.”

  “How do you want to handle this?”

  “You take two. I’ll take two,” Foster said. “Charles and Gregory pull rear guard. Walker and Lizzy act as our quick reaction force. Kids stay in the vehicles until we confirm the coast is clear.”

  “Simple. I like it,” Sams said. “Ready when you are.”

  “What’s a quick reaction force?” Lizzy asked.

  “Simple explanation,” Walker said with a big grin. “If our resident tough guys get in deep shit, then you and I swoop in and pull our asses out of the fire.”

  “Oooh, I like that,” Lizzy said. “I can’t wait to rescue them.”

  “Maybe next time,” Sams answered. “As long as flatfoot can shoot straight, this should be easy-peasy.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Army,” Foster said. “I’m a better shot than you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Sams grumbled. “Try to keep up, man.”

  Foster watched as Sams moved quietly back into the shadows. He counted silently to two and followed his friend.

  As the two men approached the intersection, Foster saw Sams motion he wanted him to take the two enemies on the left. The former Ranger moved to get into position and would handle the remaining two enemies.

  Foster set up behind a parked Camry and sighted on the Reaper facing closest to them. He adjusted his aim until the Reaper’s face was appearing in the middle of his rifle’s scope. Foster exhaled slowly and pulled the trigger once. The suppressed rifle let out a small sound. He didn’t wait to see until the monster completely dropped before he shifted his aim to the next closest target. The remaining Reaper realized something was wrong. The creature managed to get three quarters of the way turned around before Foster’s shot nailed it in the ear. The monster’s head collapsed inward, and it was dead before its body hit the ground. He glassed the area with his rifle scope and saw the other two monsters were also down.

  “Looks clear,” Sams said. “Proceeding. Cover me.”

  “Copy that,” Foster said. He watched Sams slowly move forward. And kept looking, ever vigilant for any ambush surprises. It still appeared to be clear.

  “Clear,” Sams said. He cued his comms and added, “Walker, bring the rest of the group up. We have a clear exfil path.”

  “Copy that,” Walker answered. “Rolling out.”

  Moments later, the two vehicles pulled up. Foster climbed in the passenger seat of one and saw Sams climb in the other.

  “Looks like it was easy-peasy after all,” Amanda said. “Next stop, airport.”

  “Looking forward to it, Doc,” Foster said. “We got a flight to catch.”

  There was a noise near the throne room entrance, and Beeks instinctively looked toward the disturbance. A pair of his soldiers were trying to stop another minion from getting access into the room.

  “Let him in,” Beeks commanded. He watched as his guards stepped aside just enough to let the unannounced visitor step through. As soon as he did, they moved to close the gap once more.

  “What is it?” Beeks asked.

  “Good news, my Lord,” the soldier said. “We have found the one who had gone missing.”

  “Excellent. I want her brought here.”

  “Master, I thought you might. She fought against coming back home.”

  “Is that so?” Beeks said. “Interesting.”

  There was a loud noise in the hallway, and a moment later, three more soldiers dragged a visibly battered Angel into the room. They deposited her in front of Beeks. The female snarled, jumped to her feet, and headed toward the door, only to be met by further resistance. The minions grabbed her once more, and this time they threw her even harder in front of Beeks.

  “Seal the throne room,” Beeks commanded. “No one in or out.”

  The soldiers scurried about, quickly blocking access to the room’s only doorway.

  Beeks turned his attention to the glaring female in front of him. “Angel,” he said in as soothing a voice as he could fake. “Why did you run away?”

  “Leave me alone. I’m not like you.”

  “Sure you are,” Beeks said. “Look around you. All of us look the same.”

  “No.”

  “Angel, look at your own arms and your legs. Your body fur. Heck, look at your hands.” Beeks said, showing his razor-sharp claws. “You are like us. We are family.”

  “I don’t wanna be. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “That’s not an option,” Beeks said. “And I’m growing quite tired of your disrespect. Kneel.”

  “No.”

  “What?” Beeks snarled. “Kneel. Now.”

  Angel shook her head vigorously side to side.

  “I think your sister has forgotten her manners,” Beeks said. “Show her what she needs to do.”

  Four Reapers stepped forward, each grabbing part of Angel’s limbs. She started to fight, but it was futile. The quartet of warriors simply overpowered her and forced her down onto one knee.

  “Now, bow your head,” Beeks said. “Show me the respect I deserve.”

  Angel glared at him with fierce eyes. A low growl began to grow in her throat.

  Beeks lost his cool. He mentally reached out and lashed at her mind as if he were slapping a petulant child.

  Angel let out a yelp of pain, then dropped her chin toward the floor.

  “I warned you.” Beeks growled. “We are your family, and I am your master.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I didn’t ask you what you think,” Beeks said. He reached out telepathically once more and squeezed her mind. He gradually increased the pressure until she stopped fighting. “You will learn your place in the pack,” he continued. “You will learn to obey. You will learn to eat what your pack mates provide for you. Do you understand me?”

  “I don’t— Ahhh!” Angel shrieked in pain. “Okay.” Tears began to roll down her face.

  Beeks was pleased. “I mean it. I will not warn you again.”

  “I... I understand.” Angel whimpered.

  “Do you swear to obey?”

  “I... will.”

  Beeks felt his heart swell with pride. Maybe this former military woman wasn’t so tough after all. He looked forward to continuing to groom her in her place in his pack. Perhaps one day he would choose her to carry his offspring. But it wasn’t time to consider breeding. There was too much for him still to do. There were too many remaining pockets of resistance in the United States and Canada. He hadn’t even begun to spread his family into the rest of the world.

  “Sir,” Angel said carefully.

  “Not sir,” Beeks corrected. “Master or Lord.”

  “Master, I’m... I’m feeling very tired. Is it okay if I go back to my room to sleep?”

  “Yes. Go rest up. We have very exciting plans and things to do together, Angel.”

  “Okay,” she muttered, never breaking eye contact with the ground.

  “You are dismissed,” Beeks said. He turned his attention to the guards still standing at attention. “One of you can escort her to her room. See that she gets there, or you’ll answer to me.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” the group answered together.

  Several of them stepped forward together and began to argue amongst themselves. After a few muttered snarls, one came forward while the rest returned to their posts. The lone minion moved quickly to escort Angel out of the room.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The walkie-talkie blasted unexpectedly, and Silas startled in mid-step. He rushed to lower th
e volume to a more appropriate level. They were in the middle of a patrol. The last thing they needed to do was announce their presence to the neighborhood.

  “Guardian One, this is Guardian Central.”

  “Yeah,” Silas answered. “Go ahead, Guardian Central.”

  “We’ve got a report from a civilian about a disturbance outside of town.”

  “Yeah, we’ll check on that in a little while,” Silas says. “We’re kind of in the middle of something right now.”

  Being on patrol was definitely not his usual routine. But his men were acting a little skittish lately, so Silas decided to mix things up a bit. He’d doubled the size of his usual personal patrol. There were nine other Guardians surrounding him that should be able to capable of handling Foster’s group if they found them. Silas wanted his men to be on their toes, so he had insisted they park a few blocks away and check each guard position in person. Maybe they’d find Foster while on patrol. Or maybe he’d find some dumb schmuck sleeping on guard duty. Either way, he could work his frustrations out on someone else.

  Silas felt like there was no one that he needed to answer to. He was Ezekiel’s chosen leader of the Guardians. And that meant he could go anywhere in the town that he wanted and do anything he saw fit to do.

  Which is why Ezekiel’s public proclamation to let anyone join the Guardians was so infuriating. It was his militia, not Ezekiel’s. The preacher man needed to stick to what he did best, which was convince the sheep to follow his so-called gospel advice. He’d heard somebody once say that it took a con artist to spot a con being worked. And if Silas were being honest, Ezekiel was pulling a doozy on his unsuspecting congregation. He wasn’t sure why the Reapers didn’t attack anyone wearing the designated armbands. But right now, he didn’t give a shit. He was just glad he didn’t have to worry about being personally attacked by those damn things.