The Scavenger Series | Book 1 | The Scavenger

by Lowry, C. L.

  “Dad, it’s ok. I’m not a baby. Plus, all of this stuff will be on Facebook later and I’m going to see it anyway.”

  “We have breaking news coming out of Philadelphia. Violent protests have erupted in the Center City section of the city. Reports are coming in that there are over a hundred people confirmed dead after several armed men opened fire on civilians and police officers. We are told officers returned fire and a gun battle is now currently taking place. The images from the scene are very graphic and we will not be showing them at this time. The Mayor has issued a State of Emergency for the city of Philadelphia and has contacted the Governor for National Guard assistance. If you are watching this, it will be in your best interest to stay out of the downtown area until things clear up in that area. I repeat anyone not in the downtown area at this moment, stay away from this area. If you are in the downtown area, please shelter in place until emergency services arrive. It is not safe to be outside at this moment, as most of you might already know. Just to recap, there are over a hundred people confirmed dead from a violent gun battle currently taking place in downtown Philadelphia.”

  “I can’t keep watching this,” Kyle stated as he turned the television off. Jacqui and Chloe were in tears, as news of chaos was being reported from their hometown. It was one thing hearing about devastating news about killings and natural disasters taking place in other countries, but for that type of anarchy to be occurring only thirty minutes away from their home was scary. It was only a matter of time before it spread throughout the rest of the city. Kyle knew this type of event was inevitable with all the hatred people had inside of them for no reason. People were tired of oppression, privilege, and the lack of action on behalf of the government to fix the country’s problems. The silence in the room spoke a thousand words. Kyle knew his family was scared and he planned to keep them safe from any dangers that may come knocking on their door. He walked over to his family and gave them the tightest hug. “I would die before I let anything happen to you two.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Loud screams echoed from outside

  Kyle hopped up from a deep snooze, he hadn’t known he entered. The empty whiskey bottle fell to the ground next to the empty cans of peaches. He stumbled over to the window, knocking over a lamp and picture frames. He was more sleepy than drunk, seeing as though he had a very high tolerance for alcohol that developed during the time he served in the military as a young lad. He peeked out into the darkness of night. The only thing visible would be a couple lying on the pavement in front of two beat up minivans. Kyle wasn’t sure if the screams came from the couple, but as he looked around, there was no one else in sight.

  “Please don’t hurt my girlfriend,” the husky male begged. Although the man was kneeling on the ground, Kyle could tell he was easily around six-foot-four and two hundred and fifty pounds. The plaid shirt he was wearing was completely snug around his biceps and shoulders. The woman that was next to him was the complete opposite. She was very petite and kept her head buried in the male’s arm. The male looked up towards the vehicles; the bright headlights were clearly blinding him. Holding his hand out to block the light did very little, seeing as though both vehicles were at different angles. Blood was pouring from a large laceration over his right eye. There was no telling what type of injuries his girlfriend had sustained.

  The pathetic begging was countered by malevolent laughter, coming from the shadows. A large figure emerged from the darkness behind the male. Blonde-haired and standing at about six feet and five inches, the man looked like he was in his mid to late forties. Blood splatter decorated his scruffy beard. His angry grimace was a clear sign that he had no intentions on letting the couple live to see another day. He was pure evil. The type of evil that stole Kyle’s family from him, leaving him with nothing but a black heart filled with anger and pain.

  “You think begging will make a difference young man? It’s a new world order and it’s people like you who will now slave and bow down to kings like me.”

  “For god’s sake, we did nothing to you,” the hurt male pleaded.

  CRACK

  The sound of metal smacking against flesh echoed in the silence of the night. Strike after strike, the villainous man delivered continuous blows to the back of his victim. The heavy chain that was wrapped around his hand caused the begging man to sink in a puddle of blood and tears.

  “Damn Leo, he’s crying like a big baby.” Another figure emerged from between the vans. He looked to also be in his forties, but he had a very short and wiry frame. His disheveled appearance and wild hair told Kyle everything he needed to know about the man.

  “Yup, the big baby must want a bottle. So Roy, should I fuck his bitch or blow her brains out all over him?”

  “I say you do both and make sure you save some for me.”

  Leo grabbed the woman by one of her legs and dragged her away from her bloodied boyfriend. He began tugging at her skirt, which had lifted and exposed several scrapes on her legs. “No, don’t do this. You don’t have to do this,” she appealed. Tears poured from her eyes like Niagara Falls. She had a feeling the worst was yet to come. “HELP ME,” she began screaming at the top of her lungs, before feeling cold metal knocking across her face. The ringing in her ear and sudden blurred vision were the immediate effects of being struck with a hard object. She looked up and was now staring down the barrel of a Mossberg shotgun. Roy’s finger was slithering back and forth on the trigger. The finger had an itch and he was ready to scratch it.

  BOOM!

  The roar of a shot ringing out startled the battered man on the ground. Blood splattered across his attire and his heart sank into his stomach. “Noooooo,” he yelled as he crawled over to his girlfriend’s body that was covered in blood.

  CHAPTER 8

  The shotgun fell to the ground as Roy’s body dropped next to it. A precise shot to his head had ripped off a large chunk of flesh and sent pieces flying in different directions. The couple on the ground was frantically checking their bodies to see if they had been hit, but it was clear someone was targeting Roy. Leo could not believe what happened to his best friend. He had no idea where the shot came from but quickly ran to take cover inside one of the vans. It wasn’t long before he emerged with an assault rifle and began firing in every direction, hoping to hit the unknown shooter. He didn’t know exactly where the shot that killed his friend came from, so he decided to spray and pray. The street sounded like a war zone as .556 rounds ripped off siding and shattered windows on several homes.

  BOOM! BOOM!

  The barrel of the shotgun was smoking as it released two slugs that tore open Leo’s chest and left his organs on display. Leo had forgotten about the shotgun that fell next to the couple he threatened to kill. The battered man gathered enough strength to pick up the gun and take the soul of the man who tried to rape his girlfriend. The couple held on to the gun and limped into the shadows, with their backs against the front of the home they were snatched out of by the now deceased thugs. Both of them were in complete shock about what just took place.

  “Marcus, what are we going to do? Will there be more of them coming?”

  “Probably, we have to get the hell out of here.”

  “Oh my god, look at your face and your back,” she stated as her eyes focused on his soaked shirt and the gushing wound over his eye. She helped him up the stone steps, and he limped into the home. The pain was becoming unbearable and nothing they had in their medicine cabinet was going to alleviate his current problem. Resting on the couch seemed to be a good idea. He was weak and tired, and there wasn’t much he could physically do. His girlfriend returned from upstairs with a few items they had in the house for an injury, which unfortunately wasn’t much. She noticed her boyfriend’s eyes were rolling in the back of his head. The last thing she wanted was him falling asleep, especially with a severe head injury. “Marcus. Marcus get up,” she yelled as she shook his body in an effort to startle him. She tried for a few more minutes, but her attempts un
successful.

  “Just leave him be,” said a strong voice coming from the front door.

  Her soul jumped out her body when she turned and saw a man stepping into the home, toting an assault rifle. She shielded Marcus’ body and eyed up the man as he crept closer. Her heart was beating out her chest, and you could see the rhythm pulsating into her neck.

  “What are you doing in here?” There was no response from the male, and he continued advancing. “There are about ten more of us inside here, so you better leave now before I call them down.” The man ignored her bluff and looked past her towards the bloody body she was attempting to hide. She broke down in tears, knowing she could possibly face the same fate she just avoided outside. Her boyfriend was unable to protect her this time, and she possessed no self-defense skills. She backed up once more, in an effort to keep a good amount of distance between herself and the armed man. As she stepped back, she felt cold metal pressed against her heel. That could be a pipe, she thought to herself. She quickly reached down to grab the object, hoping it would deter the potential attacker. Once lifted, the man stopped in his tracks and raised his rifle. She noticed his aggressive gesture and held the object in front of her, noticing it was the shotgun that Marcus took from the thugs. She readjusted her grip and now had the gun aimed at her new target. A sudden surge of fear ran through her body as she attempted to get a strong grip on the gun she was very unfamiliar with. Her arms shook because she had never been in this type of situation before and couldn’t imagine taking someone’s life. The man noticed how jittery she was and began to chuckle. Naturally, she became confused and felt it was odd for a thug to find humor in her obvious lack of experience when it came to handling a shotgun. His laughter made her angrier because the situation she was currently in was not funny and her life was not a joking matter.

  “What the fuck do you want?” she snarled, as tears began flowing from her eyes.

  “Stitches,” he replied.

  “What?”

  “Stitches. He’s going to need stitches.” The man lowered his gun and pointed towards Marcus.

  She looked back and noticed the blood continually pouring from the laceration on Marcus’ head. He was in really bad shape. Just as quickly as she looked at Marcus, the man had disarmed her and had the barrel of the shotgun pressed against her neck. She had enough and closed her eyes to accept her fate. She deserved to die since she didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger. She let Marcus down, and she knew it.

  “This is why I was laughing,” the man said as she chuckled again. “I knew as soon as you picked it up you weren’t going to do shit with it.”

  She ignored his attempt at friendly banter and turned her head to the side. It seemed that her luck had run out and fate wanted to take its place. The feeling of cold steel pressed against her neck had suddenly diminished, and she opened one eye to see why. To her surprise, the man had kneeled down over Marcus and was cleaning his wounds with the supplies she brought down. He clearly knew what he was doing, seeing as though he was very precise in the manner he used each supply.

  “I’m going to need a needle and some thread. Oh and a lighter if you have one.”

  “What are you a doctor or something?”

  He ignored the irrelevant question and continued cleaning the wound. She ran upstairs to gather the materials, the man requested. Luckily, they had each item stocked in the house. She handed him the items, along with a cigar from Marcus’ collection. It was like a peace offering between the two, seeing as though they had a standoff off moments before. He grabbed the cigar and smiled, accepting the gracious gift. Marcus was still knocked out cold, and the man wanted to get the wounds patched up before they became infected. Once the head wound was clean, he set the needle over the open flame from the lighter. He pinched the wound and began stitching. He noticed the one-woman audience that hovered over him, watching his every move. Once he was satisfied with his work, he whipped out a large serrated pocket knife. With one swoop, he sliced Marcus’ shirt off. “Help me turn him over,” he instructed. They both grabbed Marcus and leaned him on his side, revealing the horrendous wounds on his back. “They look bad, but I think they are just superficial. I will clean and dress them,’ the man said to deaf ears because she was looking away in disgust at the ripped flesh on her boyfriend’s bloody back. He grabbed the rubbing alcohol and poured the entire bottle onto the wounds. It was a good thing Marcus was passed out because that would have surely been an agonizing experience. He let that sit for about ninety seconds before pouring a bottle of hydrogen peroxide over the wounds. The foaming effect ensured him the chemical was doing its job. He performed those same tasks once again to ensure each inch of the wounds had been doused.

  “What the hell am I going to do with this?” he asked sarcastically, holding up a small tube of Neosporin. She looked over at him and giggled, which took her mind off the bad episode of ER she was currently starring in.

  “Well, that’s all we have.”

  “I need much more than this.”

  “Oh, so what am I supposed to go run to the store and get some? Must I remind you that I almost died an hour ago?” Sarcasm had filled the air, along with the stench of blood, flesh, and rubbing alcohol.

  “Do you have Vaseline?”

  “I think we do.”

  “Well go get me that, a spatula and some plastic wrap if you have some.”

  Upon receiving the next set of orders, she ran upstairs briefly and back down into the kitchen. Returning about five minutes after her little scavenger hunt, she dropped a slew of items next to the man. He now had the items he requested along with two jars of Aquaphor ointment and a bottle of Amsterdam Vodka. “Since you keep bringing back gifts, how ‘bout some steak and potatoes on the next run?” he grinned as she burst out into laughter.

  “Hey, I thought you might like it.”

  “We’ll see, I’m a whiskey guy. Hey, do me a favor and mix the Vaseline, Aquaphor, and Neosporin for me. Use the spatula.”

  She followed the orders to a tee and made a concoction that the man applied smoothly across Marcus’ back with the spatula. Once again, his audience was locked in as he dressed the wounds and covered them with the plastic wrap. “Where did you learn how to do all of this?”

  “The military.”

  “Are you the one that shot that guy outside?”

  “Yeah. My name is Kyle, and you are?”

  “Candice. I am Candice, and that is my boyfriend, Marcus. Thank you so much for helping us.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Oh gosh, I’m so nervous. Whose decision was it for me to meet your parents?

  Sitting on the edge of their bed, Marcus stared at Candice who was trying to find the perfect outfit to wear to dinner. Her words were going in one ear and out the other. She had always been reluctant about meeting Marcus’ parents because she remembered the horror stories he told her about his mother running off his prior ex-girlfriends. Between the large pile of clothes on the bed and the pile at her feet, Candice could open her own thrift shop and make millions.

  “Bae, they are going to love you just like I do.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  “I just know.”

  “Well did you tell them I was white?”

  Marcus knew this question was coming. He let out a deep sigh because he knew he was entering into a conversation that they had hundreds of times. Race played a big issue in their relationship, seeing as though interracial relationships were such a big issue in society. It took them a while to find the perfect apartment because Marcus felt uncomfortable in the ritzy white neighborhoods and Candice felt unaccepted in middle-class black neighborhoods. Luckily, the rental house they found was in a very diverse neighborhood and they never had any issues. Nevertheless, that did not stop their families from giving them problems, particularly Candice’s father. He was very inappropriate with Marcus during their first meet at Candice’s college graduation a year ago. Making statements such as “I guess you didn’t go to co
llege,” when he saw Marcus sitting in the audience and not amongst the graduates. He was surprised to hear Marcus had graduated two years prior with high honors and now had a successful career as an engineer. Next came “So did you play basketball for the school?” and “Did your parents attend college?” Marcus did not appreciate the inappropriate questioning, but he was a gentleman and remained respectful to her parents. Now, their relationship has grown tremendously, and he isn’t questioned as much when he sees her father.

  “Of course I told my parents you are white. I’m not a fan of the element of surprise like you.”

  Candice rolled her eyes and posed in front of their full-length mirror. She pinned up her blonde hair and admired her new rose tattoo. It was still fresh, so she had a glob of Aquaphor, spread across it. She was finally satisfied with the floral top and white jeans she was sporting as she pranced around the room. She opened the closet, which concealed over sixty pairs of shoes and began rummaging through each of them. “I’m just saying I want things to be perfect. I don’t want your mom to try and run me off like she did the rest.”

  “Listen, if you’re treating me good you won’t have that problem. Now if you do wrong by me, momma might kill your ass,” he said trying to hold back his laughter.

  Candice frowned hard. “See that’s what I’m talking about, you think it’s funny, and it’s not.”

  Marcus stood up and wrapped his strong muscular arms around her thin frame and lifted her off her feet. He knew this was her weakness. Candice loved when he picked her up and held her because it made her feel secure. She turned her head back and kissed her chocolate lover on his soft lips. He turned her around, and she was now straddling him, with her arms wrapped around his neck for stability. His grip was firm, and her body was locked against his. Not even a gust of wind could pass through their snug union.