The Azrael (Book 4): Tricon

by Gagnon, Jesse

  “I thought your place was two miles through the woods? Wouldn’t that route take you further away?” François asked.

  “There is a connecting road that leads to the Bricks about half a mile past the bridge. But we couldn’t get past the bridge. Didn’t have enough rounds for those two Azrael. It wasn’t worth the risk.” Lamar admitted.

  “So you hoped that we would either drive through them or be eaten by them, distracting them long enough to slip past?” François speculated while pointing his knife at Lamar.

  “I didn’t know or care who you were. You were a tool that I could use to get me and my boys back home.” Lamar gave an honest answer. François nodded.

  “Which way is quicker?” François asked.

  “The woods, but…but we can’t see in the woods.” Trey answered.

  “I can see just fine in the dark. I just need to know the direction we need to move in.” François explained.

  “And we’re supposed to just trust what you tell us is true?” Johnny asked.

  “Well, it’s in my best interest to keep you all alive to help transport Taliah on our way to your hideout. We all have to trust each other. First thing’s first, I deal with this small group coming from the woods right at us.”

  François sprinted into the woods and sounds of a struggle could be heard in the dark fifty yards into the trees. After a minute, footsteps walked back towards them. They aimed their weapons at François when he emerged from the tree line. He tossed an Azrael head towards Lamar’s foot.

  “Is that proof enough?” François wore a wicked grin. His hands were bloody along with his clothes. The Azrael stench was thick and foul surrounding him and he scowled when he sniffed his sleeve.

  “I’m going with that guy.” Maurice exclaimed. All the others agreed.

  François patted Lamar on the back, Lamar pointed to the southeast.

  “Into the darkness we go.” François jogged into the shadows of the forest. The others followed blindly. “Stay close.” He added.

  Chapter 28

  Where the Hell is François?--Jimmy

  The dim headlights of Jimmy’s car extinguished. He didn’t actually need the lights to see. Nevertheless, it helped to scare away animals that lingered in the road. The house was quiet and the only sounds came from the staff next door. It sounded as if they were playing a game of poker. The night was still young and it was unlike François to be asleep so early. He drew his pistol and entered cautiously. The house was quiet. The sounds of barking next door alarmed him. Why was Samson next door? Why was he not with Taliah? He contemplated.

  “Taliah?” He called out. “François?” He continued.

  “Anybody here?” He asked again. The sound of a distant bark filled the silence.

  Jimmy walked over to the garage where François stored his Ferrari and noticed his keys missing from the key hook next to the door. He entered and the car was gone.

  “What the fuck Frankie?!?” Jimmy cussed under his breath.

  He immediately activated the vehicle-tracking beacon and attempted to contact François with his mobile phone on the Veil’s network with no luck. The tracking device pinged to the south of Chicago near the south suburbs. However, it had stopped moving. What was important there to stop? Did Taliah have family or friends there?

  Jimmy took a quick shower and changed. He packed his camping backpack with everything to survive for two weeks. He also retrieved extra vials of the Azrael serum just in case. He did not want to lose any more brothers to the virus. Jimmy sent an email to Mr. Fukashima with the status and where he was headed. He left nothing to chance nor did he want to be unprepared for the unknown. Ideas that Mark Sloan would somehow find Taliah worried him and he left in a hurry towards the beacon.

  It took over three hours to reach the location designated by François’ car tracking beacon due to downed trees and clogged roadways. Tire skid marks just before the bridge heading south led off the road towards the small river below. A dead Azrael lay mangled along the tracks while dried blood decorated the north side of the bridge’s lanes.

  Jimmy hopped out and jogged down the grassy hill following the deep tire ruts that revealed soft mud beneath the grass. Other than tire track indicators, François’ car was nowhere to be found. He focused his vision attempting to look through the murky waters below but the ripples in the water caused his vision to detail only what was moving. He looked at the beacon once more; it still beeped in the area. Jimmy removed all electronics from his pockets and laid them on some large rocks on the bank. He also removed all of his clothes minus a pair of gym shorts that he was wearing beneath his pants. He had planned to go for a jog later that night and was glad that he wore them.

  He dove into the weak moving river and scanned the area. His eyes initially blurred everything below and focused on the water surface until he swam deeper. Within seconds, the contour of a car took shape and gradually revealed more detail as he approached. The occasional movement of aquatic creatures refocused his vision towards them but they quickly escaped his sight once they noticed him. He investigated inside for any bodies with no result and discovered the trunk open moments later. They must have escaped and swam to the surface. He made his way towards the bank and pulled himself onto the rocks.

  “Where the fuck did they go?” He whispered to himself.

  He grabbed his stuff and climbed the hill towards his vehicle placing everything on the trunk. He reached into the back seat to grab his workout towel and dried his body off. He quickly dressed and sat back into the car. Jimmy travelled north and scanned the side of the road for them. He passed by a house about a mile north along the road and speculated if François would have stopped there. He brought the vehicle to a stop and studied the area. When he exited the car, the stench of Azrael was in the air coming from the house and from behind it. Before he could remove his sidearm, movement in the house indicated that the Azrael were coming. They must have heard his car door open when he exited the vehicle.

  “Shit.” He mumbled to himself.

  It had not been the first time he engaged a group as large as this and hopefully not his last. The front door to the house was wide open and he aimed his pistol towards it as he took a knee. As the Azrael exited the house, seven others joined it from behind the house. His vision focused and zoomed in towards the herd. The alpha howled causing the others to increase their pace and slowly blocked out the alpha. Movement from behind caused him to turn and notice another small herd of four approaching him as well.

  “Damn it!”

  Jimmy did not have time to start up the car and get it moving fast enough to escape the Azrael. He had to fight his way out. He calmed his breathing and aimed towards the closest Azrael in the largest group. A precisely placed shot to the kneecap caused it to trip and slowed those around it. Two of them escaped unhindered and each was dealt with quickly by two shots to the skull.

  Jimmy turned around swiftly, aimed down on the frontrunner of the smaller herd and shot out its knee causing the two behind it to stumble from its sudden collapse. He managed to take down one of the other two before the others from the main group were on him. The first to grab his shoulder from behind caught a bullet point blank range in its right eye. Jimmy dropped the pistol from his left hand, removed a Bowie knife from his right hip and a six-inch tactical blade from his left ankle. He held each handle loosely while each thumb held the butt of the knives firmly. He remained calm controlling his breathing and focused on the movements of each Azrael nearby. He sped up his mental processing power triggering all actions around him to appear slower, a process he discovered while sparring with Toko and Kyo.

  Utilizing his combat experiences to his advantage, he instinctively lowered his heart rate through controlled breathing while adrenaline pumped throughout his body preparing itself for a battle. This strategy for a normal human being would produce stabilized accuracy, quicker reaction time, and a clear mind for instant threat detection. However, since he was no longer held to normal h
uman limitations, the Azrael extra sensory enhancements fired off ten times the normal electric signals sent throughout the brain. This initiated the illusion that time itself moved ten times slower.

  Heat within his body escaped rapidly as he burned through hundreds of calories per second triggering his body to sweat profusely. The sweat beads produced on his forehead settled on his nose and flung in the air as his body moved into action towards the next closest Azrael. His left fist struck the closest Azrael’s chin lifting it slightly so the blade of the combat knife would slice across the neck muscle, revealing the spine within. He thrust the Bowie knife towards its weakened neck with a right hook decapitating it while leading him into a combat roll to his left. Jimmy quickly stood up and jabbed the six-inch blade into an Azrael’s left temple destroying the brain. He used the handle of the knife stuck in its skull to help propel him towards the last limping one from the small group and Spartan kicked it in the stomach. It leaned forwards and he brought the Bowie knife down across the back of the neck severing its head while removing the other knife from the skull of the previous victim.

  The five left from the main group were now being led by the alpha and were a few feet from him. He turned to face them and was tackled to the ground sending the back of his head violently towards the asphalt below. It dazed Jimmy pulling him from his enhanced mental processing speed. Quick thinking, Jimmy activated the 500 lumens flashlight that was built into the tang of the knife’s handle. He swiped the lens cover off the butt of the knife revealing blinding light beneath and aimed it into the alpha’s eyes. It flung backwards immediately blinded by the brightness of the LED flashlight. It fell into the others that were not far behind who also were met with the overstimulation to their sight. It brought Jimmy enough time to bring himself to his feet while grabbing his pistol from the ground nearby with his dominant left hand. The Bowie knife was a few feet towards them on the ground. It had fallen from Jimmy’s hand when the Azrael struck him. The magazine wasn’t empty but he needed a full mag to stop the five that staggered nearby. He knew that once he started pulling the trigger his location would have been compromised. While he dropped the almost half-expended magazine from the pistol, he was already moving backwards providing more distance from the Azrael. Muscle memory had him reloaded and ready to fire within two seconds. Accurately placed shots on Azrael skulls dropped each one quickly and efficiently. The Alpha required a second and a third shot to its head to stop its movements completely.

  Standing with his weapon still aimed towards the now dead Azrael Jimmy felt a headache gradually throbbing in his skull. He placed his pistol in its holster situated on his left hip, deactivated the flashlight and replaced the lens cover from the ground nearby. The adrenaline in his body dissipated while an exhausting feeling overcame Jimmy. He needed to eat and drink something quickly. Even though his body had begun the cooling down process, the amount of moisture and calories burned off during the fight had left him severely dehydrated and weakened. His extrasensory control spiked and dropped randomly as he moved towards the house. He retrieved his backpack from the car with exhausting effort and continued his walk along the road in a stagger. He retrieved some energy bars from the small pocket in his bag and removed a water-filled canteen that dangled off the side of it. He finished the bars and washed them down with several gulps of water. He discarded the energy bar wrappers, reattached the canteen to his bag and donned it in a fluid motion. He glanced back at the bodies on the street one more time to reassure himself that they would not be getting back up. Once satisfied he turned back with a crooked smile.

  “I still got it.”

  Chapter 29

  Keystone Township

  The moon was full, hidden by groupings of dark clouds. They sailed across the sky like pirate ships obscuring the glow from the yellow spotlight behind. Mario, Simon, Justin, and Jane followed along the power lines that led to the Tricon facility glad that those large dark clouds blocked the light of the moon. John and Savanna stayed back at the safe house. Savanna was uncomfortable with returning to her recent prison and John wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Simon assigned them with the task of scavenging the nearby town for food and supplies. He knew that the two wouldn’t stay put and feared that their pride would have them coming to Tricon anyway. Given a task, that would benefit the crew while supporting Savanna’s sanity. Simon hoped that it was enough to keep their minds from being idle.

  A strong gust from the north stirred Jane’s hair and carried a chill down her spine. The image of Marcus White, a prisoner of Tricon who was found guilty of seven counts of rape and fourteen cases of murder, entered her mind.

  He was a resident of the Keystone Township based in western South Dakota. Their town had a large population of women due to a failed raid of Rushmore Mall in Rapid City by most of their male residents. Opportunist Azrael herds occupied the mall. They fed their bellies while infecting humans that tried their luck scavenging the stores within. They roamed in no real order nor did one group of Azrael combine with others. By splitting up into several small herds, their success rate tripled at finding a meal. Azrael were not in the business of companionship, they were in the business of survival. With the same driving force of survival, the male residents were desperate for resources and the mall was the last place left with anything of use for nearly a hundred miles.

  Trees and mountains made up most of the landscape that aided in slowing down the outbreak in their city of Keystone. They built a large wall surrounding several adjacent Hotels that were shielded by hills and mountains. The string of hotels had competitive prices and was built for tourists who were headed for Mount Rushmore. They were large enough to hold all local and visiting survivors comfortably. Most visitors eventually left in pursuit of where they called home. None ever returned nor did anyone hear from them again.

  Marcus White was one of the tourists stranded in White House Resort Keystone. He was a large white male from Nebraska. He boasted that he played college football at the University of Nebraska and claimed to be close friends with the late Ted Bronson, the once starting Quarterback of the Jets. Whether his claims were true or not did not change the fact that he was a coward and a female predator. When asked if he would join the scavenging mission at Rushmore Mall he claimed that he was better suited for staying back to defend their residents from the Azrael or from dangerous raiders. They all knew that he was full of shit but were no match for his strength and size. They left without him yet again but did leave Bruce Sterling, a local farmer who also was the fire chief at Keystone Fire Station 1 before the outbreak. Although in his late fifties, he was not a man to be trifled with and Marcus should have known that.

  Bruce had kept a journal of all activities good and bad locked in a desk drawer of his room. It contained detailed descriptions of each resident, where they were from, what they claimed to have done before the outbreak, and what their job was while at the Keystone Township. According to the journal, Marcus White was accused of raping and killing a local shopkeeper’s wife and leaving her body a mile from the town. Unfortunately, there was not enough evidence to convict him of the crime but never escaped suspicion. Other than the Marcus, Bruce had been the only other adult male resident left to protect the township when the others did not return from the mission.

  Against his better judgment, Bruce had to at least verify what happened to them since his only daughter Rachel was in a relationship with one of the men that left. She begged and pleaded for him to attempt to discover what happened to them. Once arriving at the mall, it took little time to discover their fate. Three of the men were among a herd he witnessed eating a body near Foot Locker. He continued to scan through the windows and eventually found Paul sulking in a dark corner of a Victoria’s Secret. The Azrael was not close enough to see its face, but it wore Bruce’s fire chief jacket. Paul was wearing it when he left. It was fire engine red with the word “Chief” written on the back in black.

  Carrying sad news, news that he knew was a high poss
ibility before he left, Bruce worked out the words that he would say to their loved ones back home. He worried that Rachel would never love again. He worried that they would all slowly starve to death.

  The soil had been contaminated with chemicals that the military used to fight off the Azrael causing all attempts to grow food to fail. They were all on the verge of relocating to a new home. Unfortunately, all forms of communication were severed along with the fact that they were in a rural environment. No one knew where the next safe place would be or if there was a safe place nearby at all. Regardless, they had to take their chances. He needed Marcus at that moment more than any other time. He was willing to overlook his past cowardice and give him a chance to redeem himself. After about an hour of travelling on foot while safely avoiding small packs of Azrael, Bruce believed that he had a solid motivational speech to pitch to the remaining residents.

  As he neared the compound, a woman’s shrilling scream triggered his steps to quicken towards the hidden gate that he had a key for, masked by a false wall. About forty Azrael were on the east side of the town banging on the walls drawn to the screams directly on the other side. He managed to sneak in, locked the gate, and moved towards the screams. To his horror, a woman’s body was lying motionless on bloody pavement below a broken window on the top floor of the President’s View Resort. He immediately checked for a pulse but she was dead. A subdued scream escaped the broken window alarming Bruce further. He hurried for the front door and found it obstructed. The automatic doors had been disabled, locked and barricaded months ago. Through the visible windows of the side door, he noticed a shovel wedged across the frame blocking it from opening. He continued around back and broke through the locked back door with his shoulder. Rachel lived on the top floor as well. He noticed a fire station in the stairwell on the second floor and drove his elbow through the glass, retrieving an axe as he moved past it. Once entering the floor, he saw a mob of women banging on the door of a room and screaming. Faint whimpers were heard elsewhere. Four other rooms had open doors and a gruesome scene of either heavily bruised rape victims weeping in the corner or lifeless bodies on beds or the floor with torn clothing. The room closed was Rachel’s. When the women saw Bruce, they cried out to him.