Echoes of Tomorrow Season One: Episode Five (Echoes of Tomorrow: Season One Book 5)

Home > Other > Echoes of Tomorrow Season One: Episode Five (Echoes of Tomorrow: Season One Book 5) > Page 1
Echoes of Tomorrow Season One: Episode Five (Echoes of Tomorrow: Season One Book 5) Page 1

by Douglas Wayne




  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Join

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Join

  More Books in the Demontouched World

  My Other Books

  Echoes of Tomorrow

  Season One

  Episode Five

  Douglas Wayne

  ECHOES OF TOMORROW

  SEASON ONE

  EPISODE FIVE

  Douglas Wayne

  Copyright © 2015 by Douglas Wayne. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental. Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

  Click or visit:

  douglaswayne.com

  Keep In Touch

  Want sneak peeks at what's next?

  Want to find out what I'm up to before the rest of the world?

  How about access to exclusive content not available to the general public?

  Join today and get…

  SNEAK PEEKS OF UPCOMING STUFF

  LINKS TO MY PAID PROMOTIONS AND DISCOUNTS

  AND A WEEKLY NEWSLETTER FROM DOUGLAS WAYNE

  JOIN TODAY!

  Douglas Wayne's notification list.

  Chapter One

  Mobile, Alabama

  September 16, 2013

  "Do you see anyone?" Tyler poked his head around the corner to make sure his truck was in the street. After finding it sitting on the side of the road, they'd spent the next half hour scoping out the area hoping whoever had it was still close by. They started their search a few houses away and worked their way over while keeping an eye on the truck in case whoever had it came back.

  Marcy shook her head from behind a large bush. "You think they live there?"

  "Hard to tell." Tyler had his suspicions, but either the driver lived in the house or he'd dropped the truck there in the last few days. He was leaning towards the later, but wanted to get close to the truck to make sure.

  A hand touched Tyler on the shoulder, causing Tyler to jump. Dan held his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing too loud at what he saw.

  "What?" Tyler said, agitated.

  "That truck of yours is loaded down. Can't see it from the side, but they have all sorts of goodies in the back."

  Tyler glanced back to the truck, surprised he hadn't seen it. Then again, he hadn't tried to see if anything was in the back. He was more concerned with watching the house the truck was parked in front of than the truck itself to even consider it might have stuff in it. "What kind of stuff?"

  "Couldn't see everything. They have most of it covered. I know there are some cans in the back and packages of bottles. Water probably."

  This was even better than Tyler could've hoped for. In the span of thirty minutes he'd gone from being resigned to not having the truck to finding it already loaded with some of the supplies he'd need to make the trip across the country. There would be things he'd still need to get, but once he had the truck there wouldn't be anything keeping him in Mobile a minute longer than it took to get out of town.

  He also had to decide what to do with Dan. Tyler didn't like the prospect of traveling with him across the country, let alone back to his own house. To this point Tyler hoped that Dan would've taken off on his own, heading to whatever place of solitude the man called home. Yet, Dan had followed him around like a lost dog, albeit an annoying lost dog. Like a little lost chihuahua yipping and barking at anything that moved.

  Including Tyler.

  Tyler knew the annoying bark would turn into a play for power, one that would force Tyler's hand once and for all. Dan didn't seem like the type of guy to let someone else run around calling the shots for long, and if Dan was going to follow him around, he had to get used to Tyler calling the shots. Tyler wasn't about to deal with the man any other way.

  Marcy pulled herself out of the bushes she'd spent the last ten minutes ducked behind while watching the house across the street. She stopped once she was on the side of the house, well out of the view of the front windows and doors, and brushed the twigs and leaves stuck in her hair.

  "What do we do now?" She looked at Tyler when she asked the question which caused Dan to sneer in disgust. Tyler noticed the expression but ignored it.

  "We need to get inside the house. Find whoever has the keys and take it from them." That was the only plan he could come up with, but he knew it was flawed.

  "You're crazy, mate. We don't have a clue how many people they have inside that house. As far as we know they could have the place full of people, all armed and ready to fight for the place." Dan placed the palm of hand on Tyler's chest. "And your truck."

  For a moment, Tyler considered walking away. There wasn't anything in the truck that tied it to him, other than his signature scrawled on the rental agreement. Considering the current state of affairs, he didn't believe the people back Enterprise were too worried about the truck, if they were worried about any of them at all.

  But the truck represented more than a vehicle that had once been in his possession. It represented something that had been taken from him. Ripped from his arms like a lineman ripping a football from the opposing running back. Not only that, whoever did it nearly killed him to take it. they did kill Mark. All for something with four wheels and an engine that still ran. Even in those early hours, thousands of vehicles littered the streets, they still did, yet they took his truck from him. That made the action feel all the more personal to Tyler.

  This wasn't about the truck, he realized. It was about revenge. He wanted to punish the bastards who had stolen the truck from him. The same people who'd given him a nasty concussion. The same pieces of shit that killed Mark.

  Tyler flipped the safety off on his M-16. "I'm going in. I understand if you don't want to help, but I need to get my truck back." He wanted to get it back more than anything.

  Tyler held hope they wouldn't make him do it alone. He knew all it would take is one person unaccounted for to take him out. One person in the shadows or simply passed over while searching the house room for room was all it would take.

  Thinking about his odds nearly made him reconsider, but he had too much invested in this to back out now.

  "I can't do it mate," Dan said as he leaned against the side of the house. "I have a home of my own I want to get to one day."

  Tyler nodded. He never took the time to learn anything about Dan, other than the key bits he picked up on his own. Tyler knew, just because he acted selfish and demanding didn't mean he didn't have family of his own somewhere.

  Marcy gave out a resigned sigh. Tyler knew she didn't want to get involved with this. Didn't want to touch a gun so soon after killing her first people back at the hospital. Her nerves were a frayed wreck since that attack. She'd spent most of their walk looking over her shoulders as if someone was going to rush out of the shadows to attack them. To kill them in retribution for the things they did.

  Tyler wanted to assure her the feeling got better with time, but he knew it would be a lie. He thought back to his first kill back in Iraq. Tyler had been far enough away not to be in any immediate danger. The Iraqi soldier was eating dinner, unaware he was being watched. That his body, his head, was in the center of Tyler's scope as he stirred whatever was in his pot.

  For a minute, Tyler considered leaving the man alone. Letting him live a normal life, like he wasn't on
the wrong side of a war. Allied forces had already pushed well into Kuwait while bombing Baghdad, sending Saddam's forces into a full fledged retreat.

  The man in front of him was likely a deserter. Probably disappeared from the army one night while the rest of his unit slept. Hundreds of Iraqi soldiers had done just that once the allies made their push while others waved white flags and surrendered to the first allied unit that passed.

  Yet these deceptively frightened men had been the ones to booby trap the road, making travel perilous at best. While others grew brave and rejoined their units the moment the allies passed.

  Tyler couldn't risk letting him, or another man like him, live for a moment longer than necessary. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to an allied soldier because he'd let him live.

  He stood there watching the man for five minutes, growing the nerve to pull the trigger. A few of the men gave him shit for not being quick about it, but most understood. Many of the soldiers in his unit were fresh out of boot camp; others not far removed. This conflict was their introduction to military life. To the killing it required.

  The Iraqi man stopped stirring his meal to look out the window, spooked by something outside. Tyler held the gun steady as the man watched something below on the streets. The man held his position for a minute, then turned and grabbed his gun, forcing Tyler's hand. When the man's head entered the plane of the window, Tyler pulled the trigger, sending bits of brain, skull, and blood against the back wall.

  Tyler knew he'd never be able to erase the man's face from his memory for the rest of his life. But taking that life had been easy to justify. He was at war after all. You couldn't allow a man like that to life any more than they could allow you the same of you. It was kill or be killed, with the players on both sides playing the same deadly game.

  It was the life he hadn't meant to take that haunted him to this day. He was the boy he'd never forget. His lifeless blue eyes staring at the bright yellow sun for the rest of eternity, or until someone came by to cover the body with a sheet. The same eyes that haunted him while he slept. That made it difficult to breathe at times while holding a gun. That he sometimes saw while staring down the sight of a weapon.

  It was these eyes Tyler saw back at the hospital while he stared at Mr. Fire through the sights. The same eyes that had made him freeze, nearly costing him his life. If it hadn't been for Dan, he might not be here now, staring at his truck.

  "Thanks," Tyler said as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

  He didn't need to tell her to get her weapon ready. Since the hospital, she'd been holding the thing like her life depended on it, often swinging the muzzle around to meet every unknown noise. In the hours since the hospital, she'd became more alert than half the men he'd fought with in Iraq.

  Combat did that to some. He wanted to think she was one of the lucky ones, but would hold that reservation for now. If the world stayed fucked up for weeks or months, that instinct may be what she needs to survive. As long as she could keep from pulling the trigger at every sound, Tyler figured it was fine.

  "I'll stay here and watch the truck. If your friend comes outside I'll yell or something to get your attention."

  Tyler nodded. He hoped it didn't come down to that. Dan shouting could bring attention Tyler didn't want to attract. As far as he knew, the man who stole the truck had a team of people canvassing the neighborhood, scavenging supplies. One shout would be all it would take for them to come back to the truck running, surrounding Tyler and Marcy while they searched the inside of the house.

  Of course, Tyler knew a gunshot would achieve the same reaction, but it wouldn't keep him from pulling the trigger if he had the shot.

  "Just try to hold off as long as possible," Tyler said. "Don't want to draw any more attention than we have to." Tyler scanned the street again, making sure nobody was coming from his flanks.

  "Be safe, mate," Dan said, patting Tyler on the back. He nearly did the same to Marcy, but she shot him a look that could've killed the man if looks were capable of such a thing. A look so vile Tyler had to bite his lip to keep from letting out an untimely laugh.

  "You too." Tyler made one last pass with his eyes before he and Marcy sprinted across the street and to the front door.

  Chapter Two

  Tyler rested his back against the wall on one side of the front door while Marcy took up a spot on the other. He was proud of her and was grateful to have her on his side.

  The world needs more people like her.

  He sat against the wall for a few minutes, debating on what to do next. He debated checking the back door, to get the jump on the person, or people, inside. But he realized the back door would probably be locked and he didn't have a way to unlock it.

  Tyler sidestepped against the wall towards the large picture window in the center of the porch.

  A layer of blinds limited his view inside while a second layer of curtains further blocked it. He noticed this while he stood across the street which is why he decided to rush from the front instead of from one of the sides. While it covered his advance, he'd hoped to be able to peek through a gap on the side to get a better view of the front room. Whoever owned this house in a previous life obviously considered this fact and had the curtains tight against the wall covering the normal gap that would be there. Tacked to the wall, he assumed.

  As he scooted back to the door, Marcy gave him a questioning glance. Tyler shook his head and frowned to let her know he hadn't seen a thing. She drew in a deep breath and held the M-16 tight to her chest as if preparing her body and mind for what was about to happen.

  In that moment, Tyler considered backing out. Going into the house blind was foolish. No amount of vengeance was worth risking his life, or Marcy's. While the truck and its supplies were a tempting target, Tyler knew there would be more. The world that had died just days ago had left plenty of everything lying around for people to grab.

  The clicking of a diesel engine entered Tyler's hearing to the right. His head darted in the direction in time to see a large truck heading his direction. It was set up on four large wheels, allowed thanks to a lift kit Tyler assumed. A stainless steel stack behind the driver's side door sent clouds of black smoke into the otherwise serene air.

  Panic washed over Tyler. He had no idea whether the person heading this way was just passing by or here to help the man with his truck. In any case, standing in front of the house holding an M-16 seemed to be a good way to draw extra attention. Attention he could ill afford.

  "Quick, follow me," Tyler barked. He moved toward the side of the house, hugging the ground as low as he could, hoping to stay out of view of the man in the truck.

  The clicking got louder, a sign he was nearly out of time. If they didn't get hidden before the truck reached them, there was no telling what would happen. Tyler had a few ideas, but didn't want to find out.

  They made it to the side of the house, ducking behind a pair of plastic garbage bins with their backs against the house. Tyler pulled his legs back as far as he could and Marcy followed suit.

  The diesel engine got closer until it came to a stop somewhere to Tyler's left. Right in front of the house, he thought to himself. He looked over at Marcy and placed a finger over her lips.

  She nodded in agreement.

  One of the truck doors clicked open, followed by the other. Tyler couldn't tell how many people got out of the truck, but the doors were open for a good while before they shut leading him to believe there were at least four.

  "Ricky, Ricky," one man said in a loud, yet low pitched voice. "I know you're in there. Come on out and let's have a little chat."

  There was a few seconds of silence which caused Tyler to worry. He wondered if these men were after the same person Tyler was, and what lengths they were willing to go to find him. Suddenly, he didn't feel so good about his hiding spot, knowing it was just a matter of time until the men out front fanned out before storming the house.

  The sound of the front door
opening signaled Tyler's salvation. He closed his eyes and let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

  "Jim," a new voice said. "What brings you here?"

  "Cut the shit, Rick. You know why I'm here."

  "I got the truck fair and square," Ricky pleaded. "I told you that two days ago."

  "The truck?" Jim laughed. "I'm not here for the truck."

  Tyler was relieved to hear Jim say that. For a second he'd been worried that Jim had been the one to steal the truck from him and that this Ricky had been the one to have it today. It gave him hope that if he were to wait out whatever was about to happen out front that he could get his truck back without a fight.

  "Then what's this about? Don't have all day."

  "What are you doing in that house, Ricky? Filling your truck?"

  "Yeah," Ricky said, a hint of wonder in his voice. "These people don't need it."

  There was a snapping sound from the front followed by rough footsteps. "You're in that house, taking my stuff, and wonder why I'm here. Are you as dumb as you look?"

  There was a metallic click this time, followed by three others.

  "This ain't your house," Ricky said, voice wavering. "I have a right to it too."

  "Do you now? Seems my boys disagree." There was a break in the conversation for a moment.

  Tyler wondered what was going on in front of the house. He hated being blind where he was, but suspected it was better here than out front. From the sounds, he imagined Jim's men had their weapons out, all aimed at Ricky, who had one aimed at Jim in return. The whole scenario needing only the slightest provocation to turn into a full on firefight where Jim and Ricky both end up shot, and likely dead. For a moment, Tyler considered making a noise himself. Perhaps, pulling the trigger of his M-16. He didn't need to aim it at anyone in particular. He figured the sound of the gunshot would be enough to get the others to follow suit.

 

‹ Prev