Survival Rules Series (Book 3): Rules of Darkness

by Hunt, Jack

  RULES OF DARKNESS

  Jack Hunt

  Direct Response Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by Jack Hunt

  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 eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  RULES OF DARKNESS book 3 is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Also by Jack Hunt

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  The Agora Virus series

  Phobia

  Anxiety

  Strain

  The War Buds series

  War Buds 1

  War Buds 2

  War Buds 3

  Camp Zero series

  State of Panic

  State of Shock

  State of Decay

  Renegades series

  The Renegades

  The Renegades Book 2: Aftermath

  The Renegades Book 3: Fortress

  The Renegades Book 4: Colony

  The Renegades Book 5: United

  The Wild Ones Duology

  The Wild Ones Book 1

  The Wild Ones Book 2

  The EMP Survival series

  Days of Panic

  Days of Chaos

  Days of Danger

  Days of Terror

  The Against All Odds Duology

  As We Fall

  As We Break

  The Amygdala Syndrome series

  Unstable

  Unhinged

  Survival Rules series

  Rules of Survival

  Rules of Conflict

  Rules of Darkness

  Rules of Engagement ( Coming Soon )

  Mavericks series

  Mavericks: Hunters Moon

  Time Agents series

  Killing Time

  Single Novels

  Blackout

  Defiant

  Darkest Hour

  Final Impact

  The Year Without Summer

  The Last Storm

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  A Plea

  Readers Team

  About the Author

  Prologue

  One month after blackout

  What a pitiful sight. Andy Ford’s eyes drifted across the fresh cluster of virgin faces seated in room 201 of city hall. He was beginning to have second thoughts on his offer to help the community of Whitefish, Montana. He figured there would be at least one jarhead — someone with a skill set that would make his job easier. Nope. These weren’t preppers, warriors or even survivalists. They were average joes, wannabes and volunteers. In fact they were the only ones that sorry sack of shit Ted Hudgens could muster together. That was because anyone with a lick of sense had already left town, or barricaded themselves inside their home. Which at 8 a.m. was exactly where he should have been. He wouldn’t have minded if he could have blamed someone for twisting his arm, but the irony was no one had convinced him to help. He made the choice of his own volition, well, the decision was partly guided by not wanting to have Corey show him up but still, he only had himself to blame.

  Once again, his ego had got the better of him. Now if he’d just stayed silent in the last town hall meeting, he wouldn’t be here sipping on dismal-tasting coffee and imagining his life was anything but this.

  His shoulders sank under the weight of the responsibility.

  Newbies.

  Amateurs.

  A complete disgrace to the flag.

  But they weren’t the only ones that made him shake his head. Andy cast a sideways glance at Hudgens who was introducing him. Standing there, red-faced, thumbs tucked into his waistband, belly sticking out, he was every bit the perfect representation of gluttony and self-indulgence. Hudgens was a hop, skip and a jump away from a heart attack. How he’d managed to land the position of mayor was a total mystery.

  “It is my privilege to introduce to you, Andy Ford. Some of you already know him. For others, this will be a first. His track record speaks for itself. Andy’s reputation precedes him. His skill set is unmatched. And his experience invaluable. It’s because of these reasons and more that he’s offered to help us…to help you, as we stare down the barrel at an uncertain future. Please give him your full attention, and on behalf of Whitefish, thank you for stepping up at this critical time.”

  Okay, he was kissing ass but that was because no one else would take the job. Hudgens took a seat to the right side of the room alongside Chief Bruce.

  Outside the sound of heavy gunfire made the nervous ones in the group turn their heads toward the windows. A lot had changed in a month since the power across the nation had gone out. The harsh reality of their new world was now deeply ingrained. It hadn’t taken long for them to burn their way through resources and supplies. After the fires and riots which devastated the town, the challenge to survive increased and with it came violence on a scale that only he had foreseen. Desperation was the new way of living and the prowling wolves of society were now on their doorstep — hungry and prepared to kill.

  Andy sniffed hard, smoothed out his fatigues and stepped up to the front of the room. That morning he’d shaved off what little remained of his hair, and donned high-end tactical clothing that he had once sold in his army surplus store. On his hip was a SIG SAUER P320. He tossed the half-finished cup of mud masquerading as coffee into the trash and eyeballed the unfortunate group entrusted to him.

  Another flurry of rounds caught their attention.

  “Get used to it,” he said following their nervous gaze. “It’s not going to get any better. I’m not here to cherry coat this or hold your hand. I’m not your father, your leader or your minister. I have one job and that’s to get you ready to replace those who have already given their lives to defend this town from looters and raiders. I’m not stupid, I know some of you are here to get the perks, for others you fancy yourself as a big hero, and the rest of you, you’ve convinced yourself you want to protect this town when really, it’s the admiration you want. I don’t care why you signed up. The few officers that are still operating don’t care. And quite frankly, most of this town doesn’t care. All I care about is that when I speak, you listen, when I t
each, you pay attention and when I demonstrate, you do exactly what is asked without whining. Do I make myself clear?”

  There were a few grunts, a couple of nods and the rest sat there blank faced. Andy knew that among the group there would be those who would test him. It was always the same when it came to teaching. While running countless prepper workshops he’d come across his fair share of people who showed up simply to throw their two cents into the ring. Those who came to learn he had no issues with, it was those who thought they knew it all.

  “What are your credentials?” a guy piped up from the back before glancing at his buddy, a smile forming. He was mid-twenties, wearing a military-style jacket and cargo pants. His dark hair was shaved tight at the sides of his head, and he had a large amount on the top that was swept back with some shiny hair product.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well the mayor said you have credentials. From what I can tell you haven’t been through this experience any more than us. I mean if this was war and you had been through the heat of battle, I could understand, but from what I can tell, you are no different than us. What makes you qualified to teach? And what will we learn?”

  There he was. There was always one.

  “And you are?” Andy asked.

  “Mike Fisher.”

  “What are your credentials, Mike?”

  “That wasn’t the question.”

  Andy stepped down off the small platform. “No, it wasn’t. But in order to answer to your liking — as I’m sure you were planning on comparing the two — I need to know what you bring to the table?”

  Mike squirmed in his seat looking more uncomfortable by the second as Andy made his way towards him. He swallowed hard. “I know how to shoot a rifle.”

  “Well that’s pretty impressive. Short range? Long range?”

  “Both,” Mike replied.

  “And what else?”

  “I uh…” He looked at his two buddies sitting either side of him as if hoping they would back him up but they dropped their chins. “Look, does it matter?”

  “Of course it does, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me what I plan to teach you.”

  “I just…I just think that we should know we’re not wasting our time here.”

  “Wasting your time?”

  “Yeah. I mean from what I hear, you ran an army surplus store but it was your brother who was in the army, not you.”

  Andy smiled. “Impressive. You’ve done a full background check. You’re right. I didn’t serve in the military. My brother Lou did but that doesn’t mean squat. So, what else did you learn?”

  “That your…”

  As he tried to get the words out Andy walked behind and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Come on now. Don’t be shy. What else did you find out about me?”

  “That you are…”

  Before he could finish, Andy wrapped his arm around his throat and yanked him back, pulling him to the ground. Those around him jumped up from their seats, a look of shock on their faces. His two buddies tried to come to his aid but Andy pulled his gun and aimed at them. “Back up!”

  Hudgens looked dumbfounded. It didn’t take long for Chief Bruce to rush over and try to intervene. “Let him go, Andy. What the hell are you doing?”

  “Teaching lesson one. The element of surprise. Now let me ask Mr. Fisher here, what he’s learned. Well, Mr. Fisher?”

  He struggled within his grasp, his face turned a deep red. Barely able to spit the words out, he replied, “Not to turn my back on the enemy. Never trust anyone,” he said.

  Andy released his grip. “Very good. Maybe there is hope for you.” He got up and walked back to the front of the room as if nothing had happened. “Now in answer to your question about credentials. Tell me at the end if you learned anything. Now that we have that out of the way, let’s continue, shall we?” he said turning towards a room full of shocked, if not slightly scared individuals.

  1

  The raid was set for 9.a.m. Corey was outfitted in a full tactical police uniform and tucked into the back of his old man’s green utility truck. There were four other vehicles on the ash-covered roads of Whitefish that morning, two of which were on loan from Kalispell, along with six additional officers. In the aftermath of the blackout, and the deaths of multiple officers, the Whitefish Police Department had been closely working with Flathead County, sharing resources and assisting each other. Still reeling from the death of Ella, Corey had taken a position with the local department if only to keep his mind occupied. According to Chief Bruce his military background was an asset.

  Along with ten police officers Corey was on route to the intersection of 13th Street and US-93 after gaining intel on raiders that had struck their supply distribution van only days earlier. Of course it was a problem of its own making. For the first couple weeks, if anyone needed additional food, water or medical supplies, they had to go to the emergency operations center at the local school. There, locals were served on a case-by-case basis. This was fine for those who qualified but those who didn’t were sent away empty-handed and instructed to fish and forage. This of course created a new set of challenges. The decision to turn people away wasn’t done to be mean-spirited but to prevent the greedy from blowing through what little they had. It was a tough pill to swallow, but understandable in light of the circumstances. Most accepted this as the new reality and rolled with the change. Others? They refused to follow the rules.

  Now, had the EOC supplies remained under the watchful eye of armed guards, there was a good chance they wouldn’t be hunting raiders that morning. However, Hudgens had decided that those who couldn’t come to the center due to health issues or age would have supplies dropped off at their residences. A simple task if the country hadn’t gone to hell. A dangerous job in light of circumstances. The riots and fires had only increased the need. Sending out that van, even if it was guarded, was like dangling meat in front of lions. It was only a matter of time before someone took a bite. And they did. A group had risen and were responsible for a string of attacks that led to supplies being taken. The only thing they left behind was a symbol of a star. At first Hudgens didn’t want to entertain the idea that one group might be responsible for a string of attacks throughout Whitefish but when officials of surrounding towns shared similar stories, and produced photographs of the same star sprayed on vans and walls, it could no longer be ignored.

  Corey stared out the window as the truck kicked up dust. They drove past the charred remains of buildings toward their destination of Best Bet Casino. They wouldn’t have given it a passing look on any other day as the need to protect the EOC and homes within the region, not places that once catered to gamblers.

  “We’re getting close,” Ferris said over the two-way radio. “We’ll wait for you to take up position before we move in.” Corey wasn’t holding the radio and Ferris wasn’t in the same vehicle as him. Corey had purposely kept his distance since the incident at the hospital. Even though Ferris had told him through Chief Bruce that he had done everything in his power to ensure the safety of Ella, Corey didn’t know what to believe. He couldn’t exactly blame him for telling Gabriel where Corey was, as he’d threatened his family. Corey may have done the same thing. Still, he was torn up about it and preferred to avoid the topic. Instead he funneled his energy into working twelve to fourteen-hour shifts with zero days off. Under any other conditions he might have got pulled aside about his mental health but not now.

  The truck rumbled past the casino and pulled into a large parking lot for Safeway. The brakes squealed as the driver eased off the gas and brought the vehicle to a halt. Within seconds four of them hopped out and ran at a crouch towards the building. There they were led in by the owner of the store and directed up to the roof where they would take up position with rifles. Ferris had organized it so that his team would swoop in and surround the small one-story brick casino and Corey and the other three would watch their backs from a distance. Corey didn’t say a word to the other three offic
ers as he crouched down near the edge of the building and got his rifle into position. He peered through the scope at the brick and mortar structure and waited. He wasn’t in charge of the group. In fact he’d rejected the idea of helping but Chief Bruce thought it would be a good idea. He knew that was bullshit. His work in finding the inmates was the reason he’d brought him in. They assumed he would use the same expertise in locating those responsible in the recent string of attacks. But like he told them, it was luck. Nothing but luck. And in some ways, it wasn’t even luck, it was a curse. Had he not killed Gabriel’s brother, maybe, just maybe Ella would still be alive. Corey could have backed down from the offer to help the department but that would have meant moping around his father’s cabin, and he was already getting on his last nerve. No, he’d figured his days would be spent patrolling the town, doing nothing but routine checks, but since the attacks on homes and supply trucks had increased he’d had his hands full trying to track those responsible.

  “Corey. You good?” Reynolds asked. He gave him the thumbs-up before returning to looking through the scope. Over the radio he heard Reynolds give Ferris the okay. One by one the vehicles rolled in, swerving into different positions before the cops got out and took up position behind them. Due to the unknowns, and the high level of violence this group had used in their attacks, the choice to head in was ruled out. The safe way, the only way was to use communication, Ferris said. Corey had been in the room for the briefing. He and Ferris had exchanged a cold stare. Communication meant something very different to him. Still, he watched from the safety of the roof, directing his rifle at the windows of the building. At the first sign of trouble they were instructed to take out visible threats.