Legion: V Plague Book 19

by Dirk Patton

  Katie and I lost the real-life Dog in October of 2018. He went peacefully with his head in my lap, and despite a horribly sad memory that I’ll carry forever, I am so grateful I could be there for him during those final moments. His death, but also his life, impacted me in ways I’m still discovering to this day.

  I nearly killed off his character in my grief, finding it almost unbearably painful to continue writing him when he was no longer asleep on my office floor, but a wise friend reminded me that to immortalize a dearly loved friend is an honor few of us could hope for. So, Dog lives on, loved and happy to have a family to love. Chasing squirrels and ramming sticks into John’s leg!

  As with all endeavors, creating an entire universe, populating it with characters and keeping everything true to the storyline is a daunting task. One which would have been all but impossible without help. Nothing you’ve read would be as good as it is, in my humble opinion, if not for three very special people.

  Katie, first and foremost. Always. In addition to being the love of my life, she has been there every step of the way. She has talked me down from bad ideas, suggested ways to make good ideas great, and has been way more supportive than I deserved during those long, cranky days of getting a book finished. Without her, working quietly behind the scenes, there is no doubt in my mind that this series would not exist.

  Scott Huber. I met Scott when he emailed me after reading Book 1. He had a series of critiques and suggestions that I liked, and... well, he’s been an unsung hero for quite some time. His steadfast attention to small details has shaped each book in ways that may not be obvious by their inclusion but would be glaring in their absence. My heartfelt thanks, my friend.

  Mischa McGehee. Editor extraordinaire. Typos, omissions and grammar issues that make it into the final, published work are on me, not her. I find myself tinkering with a manuscript right up to release day, after she has already found and fixed all the original problems. Can’t help myself, but that’s how the occasional error makes it through to you, the reader.

  So, that’s probably all the drawn-out, long-winded sappy shit you want to read. What you really want to know is... What’s next? Will there be more books set in the V Plague world? Possibly, but I can say that John and Rachel and Dog are retired. But that doesn’t mean there are not more battles to be fought and stories to be told by the next generation. Perhaps, someday, we’ll have to check in on Mavis and Lucas Igor and Irina and Katie.

  In the meantime, below is a synopsis of The Awakening, a new novel that will be ready to release by the end of summer, then turn the page to read its prologue.

  Katarina Daniels is an FBI agent pursuing a serial killer. Her ordered world begins to spiral out of control when she discovers her husband has squandered their money and they are hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. Marriage disintegrating, she hatches a desperate scheme to save herself from financial ruin by stealing drug money. Setting a cascading series of events into motion, she is threatened by the cartel she stole from and visited by a mysterious man who brings visions of an apocalyptic world inhabited by hideous demons. With her life in tatters, she discovers the visions are not only real, the demons are already here.

  The Awakening

  Albert slowly regained consciousness, fighting his way up out of a deep abyss. The first thing he became aware of was the sound of a steady rain, pattering on metal above his head. He looked around, but the darkness was impenetrable. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember where he was or how he’d gotten there.

  He reached up to rub a painful spot on his face, pausing when he felt the slick wetness of blood. Panic set in and he tore at the harness securing him to a seat.

  Freeing himself, he scrambled his way clear. The smell of spilled fuel was sharp in the air and he blindly fumbled with a door until it opened unexpectedly. Falling through, he landed on his back and lay unmoving as cold water instantly soaked his clothes. Rain fell on his face, rinsing the blood away and helping to restore a degree of composure.

  Slowly he sat up and looked around, still seeing nothing in the complete darkness. He could hear the rain striking leaves all around him and when he put his hands on the ground, they sank into moss covered mud. But he couldn’t recall how he’d wound up wherever he was. His body protested loudly as he climbed to his feet.

  Moving forward with his hands extended, he stopped when he felt the smooth skin of an aircraft. With sudden clarity, he remembered. Watching as four men loaded cargo into the plane at a remote airport in British Columbia. Securing it and taking off in the middle of the night. Following the western slope of the Cascade Mountains from Canada down into the United States, staying low and hugging the terrain to avoid detection.

  Then, something had gone wrong. That’s the one part of his memory that was still blank. But he didn’t dwell on it. It didn’t matter. What did was that he had survived the crash and now he had to get word to his employer as quickly as possible so the cargo could be retrieved. The loss of the plane was considered part of doing business, but the cargo was an entirely different story. No excuse would be accepted, and he knew there was no hiding. That left him with one option. Call the emergency number.

  His phone! He slapped all his pockets, but they were empty. He didn’t carry any form of identification, only a cheap, pre-paid burner phone that had been purchased somewhere in the mid-western US. Grumbling, he climbed aboard the aircraft and entered the cockpit. The damn thing must have fallen out of his pocket when he crashed.

  On his hands and knees, he searched by feel for what seemed an hour, but failed to find it. Acknowledging the futility of continuing to fumble about in the dark, he moved back outside. Standing in the rain, he tilted his head back to scan the horizon. After several minutes, he was all but certain he could detect a distant, faint glow in the cold, misty night.

  Setting off, he scrambled up a long, steep slope. Following a muddy track through the forest, he emerged into a broad pasture. In the distance, he could see a brightly lit house. Trekking across the field, he smiled in satisfaction as the cattle complained loudly and hurried away whenever he passed too close.

  Pausing well short of the house, he took his time watching. A battered pickup sat in the gravel drive and he expected there to be dogs. He was mildly surprised when his presence didn’t trigger a fit of barking, but then not everyone was a dog person.

  Exiting the pasture, he angled for the barn. Slipping inside, he left the door open for the small amount of light that made it into the dark interior. Ignoring a variety of implements whose purpose he couldn’t even guess, he selected a rusting axe. Hefting it in his hands, he got the feel for it and turned, freezing in surprise. A very tall man stood in the barn with him, silhouetted by the light streaming through the door.

  “I see you,” the man said in a rumbling voice.

  Albert’s eyes narrowed as his skin suddenly became translucent. Inside his body, as if revealed by a full color motion X-ray, writhed a hideous, scaled creature. Long, powerful arms ended in razor clawed hands. A black tongue flicked in and out of a mouth lined with rows of needle-sharp fangs. Burning red orbs floated behind the human eyes and they flashed angrily as Albert raised the axe with a snarl.

  The tall man’s hand moved incredibly fast, darting forward like a cobra. When the index finger touched Albert’s forehead, his skull split open as if struck by a heavy sword. The creature’s red eyes vanished, snuffed out with the death of the human and the corpse’s skin once again appeared solid. There was no sign of the creature that had inhabited the man.

  Bending stiffly, the tall man grabbed an ankle and dragged the corpse out of the barn.

 

 

 
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