Survival Rules Series (Book 3): Rules of Darkness

by Hunt, Jack

  There was no movement.

  Corey focused in on Ferris, his head was in the crosshair of his rifle. All it would take was one squeeze and he could take him out.

  The thought had crossed his mind multiple times that morning. Some part of him thought that Ferris wasn’t telling him the whole truth about the day Ella died. While he didn’t believe Ferris was the kind of man that would have put Ella in harm’s way, he knew how single-focused he could become, to the point of ignoring alternatives. It was possible that Ella had provided an alternative and he’d not listened. Had that got her killed? He would never know and that burned him.

  With no radio inside the building or phone line, Ferris had to communicate using a megaphone. He pulled it from the trunk, and it let out a squeal as he turned it on. They’d been given a name for the man in charge of the group. Alexander Dreymon.

  “Dreymon. This is the Whitefish Police Department. Come out of the building with your hands above your heads.”

  There was silence and no movement in the windows.

  “Dreymon!”

  Seconds turned into minutes before Ferris got on the radio and told Reynolds to keep a close eye as they moved in. Ferris raised a hand and indicated to the others to move in. Four of the cops ran at a crouch towards the main entrance. They were roughly fifteen feet from the main door when one of them yelled, “Grenade!”

  It all occurred so fast.

  The explosion, then rapid gunfire.

  It was hard to tell whether bullets cut them down or the explosion but when the dust settled four officers were dead. Corey could hear yelling over the radio. Ferris had dropped down behind bullet-peppered vehicles along with three other officers. Corey got up and hustled over to Reynolds and snatched the radio out of his hand.

  “Pull out. Now.”

  “What?” Ferris replied.

  “Get those men out of there now.”

  “Listen up, Ford. Your job is to take them out.”

  “You’ll get them killed. Get out of there now.”

  He knew the conversation wasn’t about the men, but Ella. The truth was they had no idea how many were inside. The guy they’d flipped in Kalispell knew Dreymon headed up the group in Whitefish but he couldn’t give an accurate number of those involved, and even if he could, there was no telling who was with him. For all they knew, the raiders could have been working in small cell groups throughout the town. That was how Corey would have done it.

  Ferris stopped replying on the radio.

  “Stubborn asshole,” Corey said. “I’m going down to help.”

  “Hold your position, that’s an order,” Reynolds said.

  “Fuck your order.”

  Corey ignored him, heading back down into the store and through a side exit. He burst out and hurried across to try and reach one of the officers that was still alive but trapped in between the vehicles and the casino. Ferris, Reynolds and the others engaged, tearing up the windows and walls of the casino as Corey zigzagged his way over to the cop on the ground, his name was Harris. He grabbed him by his vest and began dragging him out. The other cops were dead. In that moment he didn’t think about getting shot and yet the odds of being killed were extremely high. He knew it was a bad move but how he felt about living had changed the day Ella and his unborn baby died. It was as if he was moving through life in slow motion, nothing more than a body going through routine. Death would have been freedom, bliss even. A sweet release from the hell that was now his life.

  Crack, crack, crack!

  The gunfire never let up for a second.

  As he dragged Harris around a vehicle and into cover, Ferris came at him, all spit and fury. “What the hell are you playing at? You want to die?”

  “Yes,” Corey shot back without hesitation. Ferris shook his head, frowned and returned to the fight. There was no time for discussion nor did Corey stick around to explain, he had only one thing in mind and that was to breach that building. By the time Ferris looked to see where he was, he was already gone. Corey took two officers with him and circled the building. On the east side another officer was down, the other was taking cover behind a Jeep. They hurried over to provide support. “Listen up. I’m going in. Cover me?”

  “Are you out of your mind?” The officer asked.

  He didn’t bother to answer that.

  To them this must have seemed like pure madness. To him it was mild compared to the gunfights in Fallujah, Iraq. Over there they had no idea where insurgents were. A dash across an alley could mean a bullet in the back of the head. Here, he could see all around him. It was just a matter of timing, and with Ferris and the others not letting up, he knew the occupants were distracted. Still, as much of a death wish as he had since losing Ella, he wasn’t planning on going in alone. He just needed to get close enough to throw in a few tear gas canisters. It was a matter of shaking up the building. Causing so much chaos that the occupants wouldn’t know where to put their attention. If they couldn’t get them to come out through communication, this was the alternative. He ran toward the building at an angle to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, and lobbed one through an open window. Then he scurried along the wall, pulled the pin on the next and did the same, this time breaking a window as he threw it. The sound of men shouting inside was the last thing he heard as he sprinted back to the cover of trucks and took up position.

  As a line of coughing men came out, he heard Ferris shouting over the radio. “Do not shoot. I repeat. Do not shoot!”

  It was the one and only order that Corey obeyed.

  He wanted answers as much anyone else.

  Moving in fast, officers barked commands to get the men to come closer. Once they were on the ground, and they felt it was safe to move in, they rushed in and handcuffed the individuals, hauling them away from the building. After, they were thrown against the side of a Jeep and told to get down on their knees. From thereon out the situation escalated fast. Officers outraged at the death of their colleagues rained down punches. Corey stood by as Ferris hurried over telling them to stop. He grilled the men with questions about who they were working for but they refused to say anything. Ferris walked up to one and took him by the hair and dragged him down to the ground. He pulled back his shirt to reveal a branded mark on one shoulder. He had Reynolds check another and he had the same. All of them were branded like cattle with the same symbol sprayed after raids.

  It was a star.

  “What is this?” Ferris asked.

  “Morning Star,” a long-haired individual with a pitted face muttered farther down the line.

  Another one, chubby, with dark circles around his eyes, piped up. “Shut up, you fool.”

  “What is Morning Star?” Ferris repeated.

  The long-haired guy smiled and looked over at Corey.

  “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” Ferris barked. “What is Morning Star?”

  “You’re asking the wrong question,” another man said, his head hanging limp.

  The chubby one again spoke up but this time he didn’t scold any of the others, he simply gave a nod towards the building. “Enough with your questions. Take it and let us go.”

  “Take what? Let you go? My friend, you aren’t going anywhere, not until I…”

  Right then one of the other officers who’d been clearing the building came jogging over. He pulled up his mask. “Ferris. You should see this.” He motioned towards the building. Ferris looked back at the chubby guy who they came to learn later was Dreymon. However, it wasn’t him who was at the top of the chain. He was nothing but a pawn in a game where the rules were unknown. Ferris followed the officer, motioning for Corey to join him. They hurried towards the building and entered. Inside it was a mess. Bullets had torn up the walls, and the floor was littered with gun shells. Led through a series of corridors, they entered a main hall that was used for bingo. That was when their jaws dropped. Filling up the tables were boxes and boxes of canned and dry food. To the far end of the wall were piles of heavy firearms, m
ilitary grade stuff. The kind of equipment that might have been used by the National Guard.

  Ferris shot Corey a glance as they strolled around the room taking cans out of brown boxes and looking at them. It was a treasure trove of food, survival equipment and ammo. “The supply truck wasn’t carrying this. Where the hell did they get this from?”

  Ferris pulled out a rocket launcher. “Looks like they’re set for starting a war.”

  “Or stopping one,” Corey said. Ferris flashed him a look and set the weapon down.

  “What is your deal?” Ferris asked.

  “With?”

  “I saw the way you charged in with no regard for your life. And all that bullshit back there when I asked if you wanted to die. Saying yes. I knew you were reckless back at McDonald Lake but this, this is off the deep end.”

  “You want to do this now?”

  Ferris barked back at him. “I want to know that when I go into an operation, I’m not going to have my men die because one of them has a few screws loose.”

  Corey snorted and nodded, slowly looking around the room. “First, let’s get something straight. I’m not one of your men. You work for Flathead; I work for Whitefish. And second…”

  Before he could finish, Ferris cut him off. “You volunteer. You’re not even a cop.”

  “And you are?” Corey scoffed. “Because I’m pretty sure cops don’t give up an innocent to protect their own ass, or jeopardize the life of a pregnant woman.”

  “Ah, I see,” Ferris said. “So that’s what this is about. I told you what happened. It was out of my control.”

  “You were the only one in control of that situation. It was your operation!” Corey barked. “You were the one that led officers in, and you were the only one that returned.”

  “How many times are we going to hash this out? Huh?” Ferris shifted from one foot to the next. “You think I wanted those officers to die out there? Do you think I wanted your wife to die? I would have given my own life for her. And even now I wish it was me dead and not her.”

  “Yeah, maybe it should have been you,” Corey said.

  They exchanged an icy glare.

  “You said you understood. Now, you don’t? What is it, Corey? Because I think the chief ought to know if we are going to be working together.”

  Corey stared at him. Countless words went through his mind but nothing came out. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words but right then he was more liable to crack him one on the jaw than give him a snappy comeback. Ferris shook his head and walked away leaving Corey there. From inside he could hear Ferris shouting at the raiders.

  “What is Morning Star? Is that some kind of fucked-up sect that you belong to? Some cute name you gave yourselves? Huh?”

  Corey walked up to the door and leaned against it. A humid July breeze blew against his skin. He looked up into the blue sky where there wasn’t even a cloud in sight.

  “It’s not what. It’s who. You are asking the wrong question,” the same guy spoke again, though he was quickly scolded by his buddy Dreymon. Ferris walked over to the man with buzzed hair and a ferocious-looking beard. Ferris got down close to his face and brought his service weapon under his chin to lift his eyes.

  “Who?”

  The guy grinned. “The one that will turn all this shit around.”

  “Is that so? Is he also the one that gave you that branding?”

  “Nope.” Corey stepped out into the warmth of the day and walked over to hear what he was saying.

  “You work for him?” Ferris asked.

  The guy nodded.

  “He put you up to this? Raiding? Killing? Stealing? Were you going to take all this to him?”

  He didn’t say anything so Ferris pushed the gun a little harder. “Where can I find this…Morning Star?” Ferris chuckled, shaking his head and casting a glance at those who had their guns trained on the men. A few officers were keeping watch on the perimeter. The man didn’t answer him so Ferris grabbed him by the back of the head. “Are you hard of hearing? Where can I find your boss? Is he in Whitefish? Kalispell?”

  The front of the man’s pants darkened. Fearing for his life he peed himself. “In the national forest,” he replied.

  “Which one?”

  There were two nearby, Kootenai and Glacier.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t bullshit me.”

  “He doesn’t know. None of us do,” the long-haired man said. “We collect what’s needed and transport it to a secondary location where it’s picked up and taken away.”

  “What secondary location?” Ferris demanded to know.

  “Just northwest of Whitefish on 93 near Skyles Lake.”

  “Shut up, you idiot,” Dreymon said.

  Ferris pointed his gun at Dreymon. “Enough!” He paced back and forth tapping the Glock against the side of his leg. “And what’s in it for you all?”

  They said nothing.

  “Do you not hear me?” he said, waving the gun around. “What kickback are you getting to do his bidding?”

  “We don’t go without,” the long-haired man replied.

  “Well now you do,” Ferris said. He twirled his finger in the air. “Round ’em up. We’re taking them in.”

  “Taking them in?” Reynolds asked. “Didn’t you hear what Hudgens said? We don’t have room. The jail cells are already at maximum capacity.”

  Ferris stopped walking. He stood there for what seemed like a minute observing the men. “Good point.” In an instant, he turned and in one smooth motion fired a round into the head of Dreymon, then another into the next guy, and one more into the next until they had six dead bodies before them. All the other officers’ jaws dropped except Corey’s. For the longest time he’d had a feeling that Ferris was a hairline crack away from losing his shit. Now he’d just proven it. “Let’s move out,” he said, turning and looking at Corey as if expecting him to say something.

  2

  “I’m telling you, it wouldn’t be the first time a suit has screwed over the working man,” Nate said, naked under a blanket running his hand through Erika’s hair as they lay in the back of a semi-truck they’d found between Kalispell and Whitefish. At the far end of the truck Bailey was panting and basking in the sunshine. He and Erika had gone out with a group of four townsfolk that morning to search trucks and stalled vehicles along the highways and back roads for supplies. It had been an ongoing effort over the past four weeks. A great deal of focus was being placed on the acquisition of supplies even though fishing and hunting provided ample food. Truthfully, it was a matter of creature comforts. People didn’t want to give up the old ways of thinking, the perks of living in a modern society. After a rather irate town hall meeting, Hudgens had caved in and told those in attendance if they wanted to venture out beyond the town to search, no one was going to stop them, but he couldn’t be held responsible for any loss of life or injury as a result of run-ins with raiders. Raiders this, raiders that. Everything was about this damn group that was causing havoc throughout the county. They still hadn’t seen them. In fact, Nate was beginning to think it was just a made-up story that Hudgens had concocted to explain why resources were running low. He had a sneaky suspicion that some of the higher-ups, the mayor, city council and members of the police department, were taking the lion’s share of what remained while everyone else was left with smaller rations. “I think if we headed over to Hudgens’ house we would probably find his garage packed to the ceiling with boxes of supplies. I don’t trust that asshole.”

  “No, the chief wouldn’t let that happen,” Erika said.

  “Maybe he doesn’t know about it. Or hell, maybe he’s in on it,” Nate said before sighing and changing the topic. “Anyway, when are you going to tell Tyler about us?” There had been a development over the past three weeks. Since their near-death experience at the hands of that nutcase Denise; Erika and Nate had formed a close bond, one that became even closer after a night of heavy drinking. In all honesty he was taken ab
ack and figured when Erika sobered up the next morning, she would regret that one-night stand but surprisingly she didn’t. It wasn’t long before they were taking advantage of free moments to sneak away and get their freak on.

  Erika shrugged. “There’s nothing to say. Tyler and I were never an item.”

  “But you dated him in Vegas.”

  “We went out for a meal, Nate. That’s it.”

  “But he could have feelings for you.”

  “If he does, he hasn’t made them known. Hell, we haven’t seen him in three weeks. For all we know he might have decided to not come back. You heard what his old man said the other night.”

  “Ah, Andy’s just bitter that his son went against his wishes.” Nate pulled a face, looking out at the sky. Twenty minutes earlier they’d come across a semi truck among many other stalled vehicles. There was a momentary surge of excitement at the prospect of finding a cache of supplies, only to discover the back was open and someone had already beaten them to the punch. It was empty barring a few cardboard boxes. Trying to make the most of the moment, Nate put the moves on Erika in the back of the truck.

  “Here?” She blurted out.

  He shrugged. “Why not? It’s as good a place as any.”

  “But the group will be waiting for us.”

  “They’re five miles down the road. They’re too busy. Besides, we won’t be long.”

  “You won’t. What about me?” She asked.

  He grinned and wiggled his fingers in her face. “Let me work my magic.”

  That was all it took to convince her. They broke down some of the cardboard boxes and rolled out a blanket taken from the horse they’d arrived on. Next they peeled off each other’s clothes and got tangled up under the cover. When it was over, they lay there at ease.

  Since the power had gone out, Erika had become the only thing that was good about the event. There was no way in hell he could have scored a woman like that. She wouldn’t have given him a second glance had it not been for their shared experience below Denise’s home. Getting close to death had changed something in both of them that night.