The Rotting Souls Series (Book 4): Charon's Coffers

by Ray, Timothy A.

  After all, that shit apparently brought down skyscrapers.

  “Okay, why don’t we all just stop right there, drop the weapons, and put those hands up,” came a stern voice from behind them. “Face forward!”

  John had been about to twist around and immediately snapped back. There was a tone of authority in that voice and even though she fought it, her hands set the weapon on the ground before her, then slowly raised themselves over her head.

  “We are not responsible for this,” she threw back over her shoulder, hearing the rustle of ferns on all sides and knew that multiple guns were now being pointed at their way.

  “Mighty convenient, you showing up geared the way you are, looking ready for a fight,” the voice told them, the footfalls coming to a stop. “Way the world is, we should just drop you and continue on mission.”

  Now her anger was stirring. “You’re the ones that crashed our party, no one asked you to come. I told her I would handle this!” She could feel a presence behind her and a muzzle came to rest at the base of her skull. She wanted to react, but she forcibly pushed it down, her fingers trembling. “Why do you think we came in on foot? We knew there was a chance this compound was booby trapped.”

  “If you thought that, then you could have warned us off. Maybe my men would still be alive,” growled the apparent leader of the group. “Instead, I’ve lost a squad of my men and a helo.”

  “I don’t recall having any choice in the matter,” she snapped and felt the muzzle press harder against her head. “Do it if you’re going to, but I’m picking up my gun. I’ll be damned if I’m going to keep my arms up any longer.”

  “Monica!” John exclaimed, eyes darting to the soldiers swinging around their sides. They were dressed in black fatigues, armed to the teeth, and wore ski-masks to conceal their faces.

  A hand reached out and grabbed her neck as she began to bend forward, snapping her straight.

  “Sir!” a voice came from their right. “Our contact was a Monica. I’m not sure—.”

  “Shut the fuck up and be quiet! If I want your opinion, I’ll give you one,” the man roared, fingers digging into the flesh of her neck, pinching despite the suit protecting her. “You can smell my men burning and you choose to defy my orders, to antagonize me?”

  “I am not under your command, so go fuck yourself” she snarled.

  Fingers dug in more tightly, making her neck twinge. “You are now. Or do you doubt my capacity to order my men to kill you all right now.”

  “If you were going to, you would have already,” she returned, wresting her neck from his hand, swiftly reaching down for her gun and turning to face him. Weapons were raised, fingers calmly fixed to their triggers, but she didn’t provoke them any further. Just stood there, weapon in hand, eyes fixed on the man in charge. “We can stand out here and continue this bullshit, or we can get to what we’ve come here to do. Your choice.”

  “Oh, thank you for that. I’m glad I’ve got your permission,” he growled. “And just what is it that you think we’ve come here to do? Maybe we are here for you.”

  Why were they playing this charade? Shouldn’t he have been briefed on who she was, what they were doing? Had they sent him out blind? “We are here to find Sean, just like you.”

  “Mr. Flaggerty is no longer here,” the man informed her, weapon lowering, his left hand rising to pull his mask up. It came to rest on his brow, a pair of hard green eyes piercing their way through her. He had a square-chin, hard cheekbones, and thick brown eyebrows. He retrieved an already clipped cigar, jammed it in the corner of his mouth, and flicked a match with his thumb. “He’s already flown the coop.”

  “That’s impossible,” she began, shaking her head. “Where the hell would he go? And if he’s not here, then what are you doing here?”

  He took a long puff on his cigar, “we’re here to round you lot up.” He then motioned with his hands and instantly the eight soldiers stepped forward in response. “And Monica,” he interrupted her retort, making her weapon stop as she had begun to raise it, “resist and your husband gets one in the brain-pan.”

  “My husband? He’s not my husband!” she answered in shock, looking at John with surprise.

  “No shit, Lady. Though, I’m surprised you can keep track, your marital status and all. No, I’m referring to Todd Raines, the man currently in the sights of one of my snipers,” he told her, pulling a pad from his front right pocket, then turning it to face her.

  It was circular, looked to be through a scope, crosshairs firmly fixed on her husband’s head. “No,” she moaned, shaking her head. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “That’s not the plan, unless you give me a reason otherwise,” he responded in a flat tone of voice, eyeing her coldly.

  “Monica, we don’t know that they won’t kill him anyway,” Mark advised, turning so he could look at the video feed himself. “They might shoot him just for the hell of it.”

  “Damn straight, can’t trust the military,” Vitarius piped in and got a dirty look in return.

  One of the soldiers snatched the youth’s rifle and gave him a hard shove in the back. “Stow that shit or I’ll give you a reason to believe that.”

  “It’s Todd, Monica! Why don’t we just stop all this? Aren’t these the good guys?” Naima protested, eyes wide.

  “I don’t know, are you the good guys?” she asked the commander, who had watched the exchange with an amused look in his eyes.

  He smirked in response. “Is no such thing anymore, but we’re as close as you’re going to get. And your own status is in question, not ours. Secure them and let’s get to the LZ. Tell Rogers to get that chinook in here, there’s more than we thought there’d be. And Sergeant? Take this kid to the other helo and strap him in. We’re not monsters.”

  She had almost completely forgotten about Ray and the terrified kid flinched as a man grabbed him by the arm and began leading him away. Both his parents were dead and he was alone now, another orphan this world had created.

  “We’re leaving?” John asked, confused. “How can you be sure that our target has flown the nest? Shouldn’t we at least investigate first?”

  The man’s mouth worked around the cigar, as if he was considering whether or not to answer. “He’s been secured. My orders are to pick you up and bring you back. So that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Secured?” she blurted. How was that possible? They had just gotten here.

  “We’re done talking. Let’s move them out,” he ordered his men, who each jabbed a weapon in a western direction, motioning her group to start moving. “Simmons, call in a strike on these compounds, I want all of this blown to hell.”

  “You can’t do that, there might be civilians in there!” Jenn exclaimed.

  He glared at the younger girl, making her gulp. “Then they had better get the fuck out, because I want nothing left but a pile of smoldering ash. You get that Simmons? And one more word out of any of you, and you can stay here and experience it first-hand. Let’s roll out!”

  Chapter 18

  Friend or Foe?

  Todd

  Compound 2

  “Sgt. Rankin, I thought there were two helos coming in. Where’s the other?” he asked the military officer in front of him. They had landed not seconds before, dressed in black fatigues, equipped for a war, and had maintained their weapons on the four of them long after he approached and shook their commander’s hand. These men were on edge and it was making him nervous.

  The weird looking black copter to the rear was starting to cycle down. It was shaped more like a fish, with horizontal fins coming out the side just below the cargo doors and a large circular fan for a tail. Five men had exited the craft and he wondered if it had been a cramped ride; served to explain the stiff attitude of their visitors.

  “You just recently had an explosion to the west of here. They are going to check it out,” the man returned, blue eyes studying him. The ski mask had finally come off and a thin youthful face had appeared
underneath. He was clean shaven, had thin cheeks, and a smirk that was constantly fighting to surface.

  Matt gave the man a harsh glance, his military experience making him square his shoulders and become more rigid in his actions. “That has been contained.”

  “We’ll verify that ourselves,” Rankin replied dismissively. “Now, if you’ll escort me to your communications room, I’m under orders to retrieve all relevant data concerning this virus and those responsible.”

  From the look he was being given, he had a sinking feeling that they were included in that. Gritting his teeth, he shot a look at Ros, but she seemed unconcerned with their status and simply looked calmly at her limping husband.

  “Mykala, why don’t you lead the horses back to the stables? Just let them loose in the corrals and we’ll take care of them later,” he told the younger girl, who’s wide eyes were constantly shifting from soldier to soldier, focused mostly on their weapons and tactical gear. “Mykala!”

  “Okay,” she muttered and headed towards the wooden fence they had tethered their mounts to.

  He paused to watch her go, then turned back to their guests. “We could have sent everything to you from here. You didn’t have to come all this way.”

  “The President wants to be sure that she has everything, not what you think is relevant. And considering that our Alpha Target has just been located and secured, I’m glad we did. Tell me, were you going to warn us that he was here? Or try to hide him until we left?” Rankin interrogated in a rough voice. “He is a traitor and those that aid him will be deemed so as well.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he nearly stuttered, his mind frozen.

  What the fuck were they going on about?

  The look he was giving must have appeared genuine enough, because the Sergeant turned his gaze away and narrowed his eyes, focused solely on Matt. “So, your apparent leader was kept in the dark. But you knew.”

  He jerked his head in Matt’s direction. “What the hell is he talking about?”

  “Hey, quit looking at my husband like that. He hasn’t been helping anyone hide from anyone. We have no secrets here!” Rosilynn exclaimed, taking a protective step in front of Matt.

  “Ros, stop! Ros!” Matt growled, putting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her away. “We have not been hiding him. With the help of our new friends, we stopped an attack he initiated and secured him just before your arrival.”

  “That’s convenient timing,” Rankin grunted, glaring at the older man.

  He was still confused about what was going on. “Why would you be looking for Renny’s group?”

  “Todd, it wasn’t Renny’s men that attacked the walls. They were all dead, led up here by someone wanting to mask what was really going on, so that we would expose our flank. It worked,” Matt explained as they approached the bunker’s front doors.

  “My men are bringing Mr. Flaggerty over here as we speak. I expect that you’ll find a secured room for me to interrogate him in?” Rankin demanded of Matt, who simply nodded his head.

  “Flaggerty?” he blurted, shocked. “That’s impossible, he’s in Washington. My wife—.”

  Rankin didn’t pause as he walked through the doors like he owned the place, “has been secured and is at this moment aboard one of our helos heading towards Montana.”

  “My wife—has been secured? What the fuck are you talking about?” he thundered, right hand clenching his weapon. Angrily he rounded on Matt, “I think you need to tell me what the fuck is going on, right now!”

  “I’m the one that needs to do that,” a voice spoke up from behind him. He turned to see Joseph walking through the doors, holding it open as Bill and another of his men carried Sean in behind him. “Matt’s only doing what I asked him to do. I’ll explain as soon as we get to the med-lab and stop this asshole from bleeding out.”

  He saw red as his eyes focused on Sean’s grinning face. His hands pulled free his weapon and prepared to fire.

  Chapter 19

  Rage

  Todd

  Compound 2

  “You need to untie me, right now!” he ordered Matt, who stood stoically by the door, refusing to even look him in the eye. “I mean it, Matt. Get your fucking ass over here right now or I won’t stop with Sean!” The back of his head was throbbing from where Rankin had hit him and when he had awoken bound to a chair, his rage had gone nuclear. They had taken him to one of the vacant rooms and he sat in a sparsely decorated living room, one of the kitchen chairs situated where the coffee table would usually sit. Fuming, he glared at his supposed friend, trying to mentally will him forward.

  Instead, Matt walked towards the kitchen, calmly pulled down a glass and filled it with water. Then he approached and offered it to him. “You should drink something,” the man said in a disconnected voice.

  “Fuck you,” he spat, and Matt’s eyes finally fell on him, then diverted away to the floor. “You fucking lied to me. The whole time, you knew that Sean was here, and the two of you, my friends, conspired to keep it from me! Fucking traitors!”

  Matt sat the glass on an end table and walked back towards the doorway, refusing to engage him. The coldness of his stance, after everything, infuriated him. They’d shared their wives openly on the same bed and now the man couldn’t be bothered to respond?

  “I would never do this to you, never! How can you stand there like that, knowing that the man that has done this to the world, is personally responsible for the deaths of our friends, is just lying there with a smirk on his face and not do something about it? Were you part of it? Part of his secret cabal? How the hell can you just stand there and do nothing?” he roared, struggling against his bindings. They had used tie downs and rope and no matter how hard he struggled, it was not giving an inch.

  The door opened and Rosilynn stepped inside. She looked at her husband with compassion and that made his fury skyrocket.

  “You too? You’re in on this? What were you doing, distracting me while Sean moves right back in?” he spat at her.

  “No one is working with him,” she replied calmly, taking the time to stroke her husband’s cheek, recalling all the love she bore for the man and letting it surface through her gaze. “Go, take a break, I’ll talk to him.”

  Matt’s eyes flashed his way and he thought he saw a redness around their rims, but then they moved on and the larger man removed himself from the room without another word.

  Rosilynn calmly walked over to the kitchen, got a chair, and brought it into the living room. “You really need to calm down. I don’t need a monitor to tell me your vitals are through the roof.”

  “Fuck my vitals!” he spat, trying to get free once more. The ropes were digging into his skin, the chafing making his nerves scream in agony, but he didn’t care. “Untie me, right now!”

  “I can’t do that. There are two armed guards outside this room, and if you leave, they have orders to shoot you,” she returned calmly, trying to use the tone of her voice to soothe him.

  “And you’re just going to let that happen? The both of you?” he blurted, unable to calm down even with a voice in the rear of his mind begging him to do so. “Just roll over and let them do whatever they want, that it? You, of all people, how can you sit there and let that man breathe in the air he purposely cut off to Ben and his family? Rodger? Lucy? Marisol? Her baby? How can you just let them patch him up and not just kill his ass?”

  “Todd—,” she began.

  “Don’t you Todd me,” he growled. “You owe me answers. Apparently, they’ve given you plenty, otherwise you’d be tied down next to me.”

  She reached over and picked up the water, then sniffed it. “No wonder you didn’t want any, it’s just water. Maybe I should have them bring something a bit stronger.”

  “I don’t need a fucking drink. I need to know why you’re so calm, why you’re not letting me the fuck out of this chair,” he thundered.

  “I need a drink and I can’t have one; not anymore. I’m pregnan
t,” she returned.

  He froze. “What?”

  She sipped her water, then set it down on the table and placed her hands on her knees, fingers working them as she glanced once more at the door, to ensure they were alone. Then her eyes flittered to where the cameras were, and he could see the concern flash across her face. “He will find out soon enough anyways. My periods are like clockwork. They have been on the same day for a very long time. You can plan around them, know exactly when they’ll start, and for how long. I’ve waited a month just to be sure, but the time has come and gone. I can no longer deny it to anyone and pretty soon it’ll be obvious anyways.”

  “Well, congratulations,” he snarked, shaking his head. “I don’t see—.”

  “Matt and I have been trying for the last five years. He has a low sperm-count, did I tell you that? No, I didn’t think so. It’s so low that getting pregnant has been a near impossibility for us. We have been to see the doctors, we have worked around when I’m ovulating, but nothing has ever seemed to work. We were at the point of trying to get them to inseminate me. And now, I’m pregnant,” she said softly with a short shake of her head. “Five years and it happens now, with the world gone to shit, with everything around us falling apart. I’m pregnant.”

  He leaned back and stared at her. “You can’t know that, not for sure. It takes weeks for a test to show—.”

  “I know. But the fact remains, for only the second time of my life, my period is late,” she stuttered. She paused then to reflect, as if considering if she should go on, but after shaking her head, she seemed determined to do so. “And the first time was after our brief encounter two years ago, do you remember that?”

  It took a second for the rage to subside enough for him to recall what she was going on about. Two years before? He and Monica had taken a trip to Vegas to hang out with them for a weekend, and—“The broken condom?”