Grave Games: A Collection Of Riveting Suspense Thrillers

by James Hunt

  ***

  The gavel smacked against the table, and Wren did her best to hide her shudder. The town hall had transformed itself since the last time Wren had visited. While her first encounter had the space empty and hollow, now it was brimming with the entire community. Everyone had come, even people’s children. During her entrance, she’d spied the girls and Zack sitting with Nate. She kept that image glued to the front of her mind as the council presided over her, with Edric in the middle, tossing the gavel aside as the room finally quieted.

  “Five days ago, power and circuitry went down around the country, and upon such news, we as a community enacted our emergency plans.” Edric addressed the crowd behind Wren, who stood alone before the raised platform, isolated. “Four days ago, one of our own came to us, bringing with him five others. Five. And not one of them was on his roster of personnel. The day after their arrival, our camp was discovered by a party seeking refuge from the very threat that brought us here ourselves.” He finally glanced down at Wren with a pause, letting his icy stare linger until she felt a chill run up her spine. “This community and its survival is all that stands between us and the chaos beyond our fences. In the coming days and weeks, people will grow desperate, more so than we’ve already seen. What we do now will affect our world, our families, and our lives. Today marks our first trial of not just this woman’s fate, but everyone’s.”

  Iris and Ben, who flanked Edric on opposite ends of the long platform, exchanged a look while Jan smiled and Ted retained his stoic expression. Out of the four of them, Iris spoke first, her voice as calm as the steady hand that gripped her pen. “We will hear your defense, Wren Burton, as the accusations that stand against you are conspiracy for treason against the citizens of this community as well as its leaders.”

  “But first we will hear from the community,” Ben said, his voice scratchy as if the words leaving his throat fought his tongue before being shoved from his lips. “Here, everyone has a right to voice their thoughts.” His gaze lingered upon her before one of Edric’s goons pulled Wren aside and the first community member showed themselves.

  All of the testimonies blurred together, as well as most of their faces. Wren listened, but most of the message was the same. We don’t know her. We don’t trust her. She shouldn’t be here. I’m doing this for my family. And what am I doing for my family?

  “I know all of you are scared.” Wren looked up from the dusty, worn floorboards and saw Nathan standing, addressing the crowd behind him as much as the council. “It’s a fear we all share, and rightfully so. Not all of us saw the crumbling of the cities we came from, and some were worse than others, but all I can tell you about are the events that happened to me.”

  Wren’s stomach tightened, and she felt the churn of guilt. I left him to die. She shifted uncomfortably on the stiff bench, where her guard had kept a close watch.

  “When we escaped the city, it was chaos,” Nate said. “The terrorists who caused the power outage were everywhere. Fires, gunshots, mobs, panic, all of it swirling together in this terrible storm of fear. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen.” Nate pointed a chubby finger to Wren. “Her family was separated, scattered across the broken city with no way of getting to one another. But the odds didn’t stop her. She went into a war zone to get her son. She kept her girls safe. She made the tough decisions. She saved my life.”

  The gut-wrenching knife burrowed deeper into Wren’s stomach as Nathan looked her way. She could tell his words were reaching some of them. The lines of judgment across their faces slowly softened. But when Wren looked to the council, she saw that Edric remained unmoved.

  “Those people that came to the gates overheard my conversation with Wren,” Nathan said, continuing his defense. “I am just as guilty as she is.” His spine stiffened, and he lifted his chin. “And whatever her fate is, I will share.”

  The silenced crowd erupted after Nathan’s words, and Edric smacked the gavel to return order to the hall. Nathan smiled as he found his seat, and Wren sank deeper into herself. A few more community members spoke, some of them swayed by Nathan’s speech, while the others had determined her fate long before the trial, either too stubborn or too afraid to venture out into a world larger than themselves.

  Finally, after the last member had said their piece, Edric turned to Wren then nodded to the guard, who yanked her to her feet. “We will now hear from the defendant. Wren Burton, present yourself to this council and community, and tell us in your own words why this council should grant you pardon.”

  Treason. It was a word Edric had enjoyed repeating. It was a word familiar to everyone in the room, and it was a word that encouraged complacency and obedience. And judging from the smile curving up the corners of his mouth, those two attributes were exactly what Edric wanted from his subordinates.

  Every eye shifted to Wren as she took center stage. The rope binding her wrists together was coarse, rough, and tight against her skin, and she spasmed uncomfortably in the spotlight. Her new environment was a far cry from the drawing board where she felt so at ease, where she could build anything. This was a world she didn’t understand. This was their home. And she was an unwelcome guest.

  “Everyone here serves a purpose.” Wren took a swallow of what spit she found in her throat to stop her voice from cracking and then raised her volume. “Everything you’ve built has been made from sacrifice and dedication. And those are two words I know well.” The drawing board, she thought. My sketches, my profession, my passion and love. My family. “Those people that came to the gate a few days ago, the ones who were gunned down, they came here because of the same reason I did. Because of the reasons so many of you have given yourselves. There is life here. And Edric is right. People will become more desperate. People will seek out that beacon of life and want to take it for themselves. I’ve seen it. And I’ve done it myself.”

  Out of all the faces Wren watched twist in affirmation of their fears and bigotry, it was Nate’s she found first. She saw his confusion, underlined with the fear of knowing that he put his neck out on the line for her, as he had done so many times already since she’d arrived. But she wouldn’t leave him behind this time. She wouldn’t leave him bloodied and to the wolves once more.

  “Nathan, my link to all of you, spoke some very kind words tonight.” She smiled at him, her eyes watering. “But unfortunately he doesn’t have the entire truth. And neither do all of you.” She shut her eyes, forcing the tears back into the wells of grief, finding her grit to continue. “We were in an ambulance, trying to escape the city. I’d finally collected all of my family. But my son, Zack, he was still hurt. Many of you know that his leg was broken.” She shook her head. “Is broken. My daughters were tired and scared. My nerves and patience had dissolved.” Wren rubbed the coarse fibers of the rope, which suddenly felt tighter, around her wrist. “The terrorists who caused all of this, or whoever they were, had blocked the road on our attempt to escape the city. They opened fire, and the paramedic who was driving the ambulance was shot and lost control. We flipped, the driver was killed, my son’s leg had worsened, and my daughters were hurt. There just wasn’t any time.” She found that she was talking to herself more than the community now. “Doug and I grabbed the kids. I went to the front and saw the driver was dead.” She found Nathan’s gaze in the crowd once more, and the silence of the hall was quieter than anything she’d ever heard in her life. “I thought you were dead too.” She wanted to look away. She wanted to stop. She wanted to tell the people what they wanted to hear, but that wasn’t the way. That wasn’t her way. “It was Doug who wanted to take you. But you were unconscious. The terrorists were marching closer, and I knew that if we hesitated, we’d die. I’d seen the way those animals cut down everyone and anything. There was no discrimination in who they killed. And I was not going to let them take my family. Or me. Not after everything that we’d been through. Not when we were so close.”

  Nathan shook his head, his expression failing to comprehend her w
ords. But the crowd around him understood. She saw the disgust in their eyes. It was the same reflection she would have given herself if she’d had a mirror. “I left you, Nate. I chose my family over your life. Once we were safe in the store, I came back, but it wasn’t for you. It was for the pack to stop Doug’s bleeding. You must have stayed unconscious as the terrorists marched past. They probably thought you were already dead too.”

  Wren turned back to Edric and the council. If they’d made up their minds, they refused that answer to her through the stoic walls upon their faces. All except for Edric. She saw the finality in his eyes as he gripped the gavel. She pictured his face in an executioner’s mask, much like the ones she’d seen the terrorists wear. While she’d never actually seen their faces, she imagined that they shared the same look as Edric wore now right before sentencing their victims to death. But Wren wouldn’t let that fate befall her. Not when her children would share the same fate.

  “But you’re not dead, Nathan.” Wren turned back to the crowd. She took a few steps forward, heading toward the center aisle, looking each of them in the eye as she passed, forcing them to see her. “And neither are you, or you, or you.” She continued until she made it all the way to the end then circled back, every head turned to watch her, save for one. “Your families are not dead. Nor will they be, because we will not let harm befall them. We are stronger together because I know, just as well as you do, that my family’s survival depends on yours.” Wren spread her palms open in submission. “I know nothing of growing food, or shooting weapons, or healing broken bones. But I graduated from one of the most prestigious architectural schools in the country. And I worked for the premier architectural firm in Chicago. I have designed buildings that have never been seen before or are likely to be seen again. And while that knowledge may seem useless, I can apply it to making sure that the next group that comes knocking on that gate won’t be able to get inside. No matter what weapons they have.”

  Wren faced the council now, her back to the crowd, and while she couldn’t see it, she felt the weight of every pair of eyes on her back, her words entrapping them in their own snare. They wanted to survive, and someone who could help them do that was valuable. Edric’s cocky gaze was replaced with the grimace of disgust he wore the first time they met. The scars turned uglier in his distaste of her. “And just as Edric said, those people will come back. They will return in greater numbers, more desperate, hungrier, and dangerous. They will want what you have.” She turned back around to the community. The mood in the room had palpably shifted in her favor. “I will help you protect it. I can make it to where no intruder will ever get inside. I will strengthen the homes and structures you’ve built to survive the harshest winters and the most dangerous storms. I will keep your families safe, because that will keep mine safe. There isn’t anyone in this room that should doubt what I will do to protect my family.” Wren found Nate’s eyes in the crowd. While she might have reached the minds and reason of the mob around her, she’d just lost her closest ally.

  “Mrs. Burton,” Iris said, the first to break the silence of the hall. “Your testimony has… shown your resolve.” She looked down the row to the rest of the council. “You will be escorted from the building and called upon once our decision has been reached. Thank you for your words. And your honesty.”

  Wren was shoved roughly from the hall and thrown back into her cell, locked in the darkness and foul stench that she’d wallowed in for the past two days. “Wait,” she called after the guard, “my wrists.” But he only slammed the door in her face.

  The moment of courage—or lunacy, the more Wren pondered her speech—evaporated into thin air. She paced the cell impatiently. If she failed to convince those people that they were better off with her inside the walls than outside, then she knew Doug was as good as dead. And even if they let Zack, Addison, and Chloe stay, she didn’t think Nathan would keep them, not after what she’d said.

  Wren punched the wall, and her fist ached the moment her knuckles smacked the wood, her dry skin ripping from her hand, leaving bits of blood on the wall. She collapsed to the floor. The rot, the smell, the pain—all of it was in her now. She looked up to the bloodied fist print. And now I’m a part of it. Her leg bounced nervously as she lost track of time. All she knew when the guard returned to bring her back to the hall was that it was still night, or early morning.

  The hall was empty except for the council, who looked to have remained frozen in their positions since her departure. The guard brought her front and center, looking to the giants on the platform, her fate in their hands once more.

  “We have reached a decision, Mrs. Burton,” Iris said. “But before we tell you what we and the community have chosen, do you have any final words for us that you wish to say?”

  “My children,” Wren said, finding it odd that it was Iris who spoke, and not Edric, who sat stone-faced in the middle with a fire in his eyes meant to set Wren ablaze. “They are innocent in all of this. And so are my husband and Nathan. Let them live. Keep them safe for as long as these walls will stand.”

  Iris raised one eyebrow. “Nothing else? Nothing you wish to impart to us in these final moments?” She leaned closer, edging herself over the precipice. “Nothing you wish to… recant?”

  “Everything I told you was the truth,” Wren answered. “I find it better to let that decide my fate than a farcical show of begging. You cannot wish a building to stand, nor can you make it rise from the earth with false tales. There is life in truth, and I found that I never benefitted from lies in my professional life or my personal one.”

  “Very well,” Iris replied, leaning back into her chair. “Wren Burton, this council finds you innocent of treason. You will be returned to your family, and your husband and son’s medical treatment will resume immediately. Tomorrow you will begin your new post with engineering.” Up until then, Wren had never seen Iris offer any look of coldness, but before she spoke her next words, it was as if vengeance itself had taken human form. “And I hope that your speeches are as effective as your professional skills.”

  Wren wasn’t sure what to say once the gavel was smacked, but luckily the council dispersed before she even had a chance to speak. The guard begrudgingly removed the ropes, and Wren gently rubbed the tender flesh. “Wait, where is my family?”

  But her only answer was the slam of the town hall door, leaving her with only the light of a few flickering candles the council had left on the platform. Nathan. They’re probably still at Nathan’s. She started for the door, and she found her feet shifting from a stumbled walk to a sprint as she ignored the pain in her leg.

  “Wren!” The voice echoed through the empty hall, and Wren skidded to a stop. When she turned to look behind her, it was Iris standing there, her body half cast in light and darkness. She took a few steps down the hall but stopped once she was out of reach of the flickering glow of the candles. “It was a dangerous play you pulled tonight. There wasn’t any guarantee the community would budge.”

  “There was no play, Iris. My intention was never to manipulate.”

  “It wasn’t?” Iris asked, taking a few steps closer in the darkness of the hall. “You could have fooled me.”

  In the darkness, Wren couldn’t tell Iris’s age, and her voice offered the illusion of youth. She hadn’t noticed just how poignant her words were until now. “Is there something you needed from me, councilwoman? From what I heard of your decision, I have been freed from any crimes.”

  “You have,” Iris acknowledged, stepping around Wren until she was side by side with her. “But there are those that lack conviction in their decision. And there are those that don’t.”

  Edric. Wren had never doubted that he’d been one of the council members that voted to exile her, or kill her, or vote for whatever the punishment would have been. But she wondered which of his two dogs had voted to keep her. Jan had never portrayed anything but an icy distrust for her, and Ted had never even spoken a word. “My family is waiting for me.
Are they still at Nathan’s?”

  Iris paused before finally answering, “Yes.” And then she disappeared back down to the platform, exiting the same way she entered. Wren lingered in the hall for a few minutes longer, waiting until the flame from Iris’s candle had disappeared with her. Wolves. The mysterious voice the day of the attack on the gate returned for reasons unknown. Right now she couldn’t tell friend from foe, but she was valuable so long as she delivered on her promises of strengthening their defenses. Weeding out the wolves would have to wait for now.

  Chapter 6

  Wren ran her fingers through Addison’s hair. Chloe was huddled up next to her big sister, both of them breathing softly. Wren had gently lay down next to her girls, careful to not disturb them. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth from their bodies, the lumpy mattress a welcomed comfort that she’d never take for granted again. She watched the steady rise and fall of their chests as the morning sun rose through the windows behind her. With everything that happened, she was happy with the peace and quiet of the morning. She knew the girls would be excited to see her, though that couldn’t be said for everyone.

  When she met Nathan at the cabin after she was released, it was like trying to speak to a ghost. He went to his room without a word, offering no hint to his thoughts. Though the cold shoulder was evidence enough that it would be a long time before he trusted her again.

  Zack was the first to wake, and when he saw her, his sleepy eyes burst into silent tears. Wren’s heart melted at the sight, and at first she thought he was simply overwhelmed, but when she reached out her arms, he violently knocked them away. The angered glare that accompanied the swing stung more painfully than the motion itself. He huddled in the corner of his cot with his back to her.