The Horror Squad: Mini Series

by TJ Weeks

  THE HORROR SQUAD: MINI SERIES 1

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  The Horror Squad: Mini Series 1. Copyright © 2016 by TJ Weeks. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, email authortjweeks@gmail.com

  Weeks, TJ

  The Horror Squad: Mini Series 1/TJ Weeks. - 1st ed.

  Title ID: 6372307

  ISBN-13: 978-1534889996

  First Edition: June 2016

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to take the time to thank Karen Dziegiel for all of her hard work going through each of my books. My wife for all of her editing and support. Chelley Jordan and Bobbi Payton for so awesomely helping with running my pages. I’d like to thank all of my military buddies for staying by my side with their support.

  Most of all, I’d like to thank all of my fans for pushing my work out there. If it wasn’t for you none of my books would have been put on the best sellers list on Amazon and I wouldn’t be up for as many awards as I get put in for.

  www.facebook.com/tjweeksofficial

  www.twitter.com/tjweeks6

  www.tjweeks.com

  STORY ONE

  DONALD/HOWARD

  “Good morning sweetheart!” Denson heard his wife belt from across the hallway. “You’re going to be late.”

  “Late for what? Bullshit?” He questioned from his big king size bed.

  He heard his wife laugh making her way down the stairs. Donald knew his ‘morning coffee’ group of Howard Manuel and Sargent Simmons would be awaiting his arrival to make their way to their jobs that they were assigned arriving back from Iraq a few weeks before.

  The three lived next door to each other and their morning ritual became normal before dispersing throughout the base. They had all gone to Iraq together and remained close as they returned.

  Denson hesitantly let his feet hit the floor and drug them to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and wondered if he didn’t shave today, how many people, including Sargent Simmons would chastise him.

  He raised the razor to his face after spreading a lather of soap across it and drug the razor across the stubble. Leaving the bits of hair in the sink, as his wife hated, he turned the water as hot as it would go in the shower and stepped in and lathered his body with soap and knew that he needed to make his way out quickly. He stepped out and looked at the digital clock that sat on the night stand by his side of the bed. He wrapped the towel around his mid-section and made his way to the bed wishing he could crawl back in it.

  His wife had laid out his uniform and stuck each sock in each of his boots; like he didn’t know that one sock went on each foot. But, he was thankful for it, it gave him less to do. He peered in his wife’s full length mirror and pretended to run his fingers through the hair that he didn’t have.

  “That hair you just ran your hand through is nonexistent you know?” His wife laughed emptying a basket of clothes onto their bed.

  “Yeah yeah, can’t wait ‘til I can grow the shit back out. I don’t want to shave anymore either dammit!” He stated.

  “Sounds like a whiny kind of day. I love you.” She stated kissing him on the cheek.

  Donald Denson had been in the military for going on four years now, he had been deployed once and now lived back on base with his wife and two children. Both usually at school by the time he had to actually get up. He had managed to land the easy job of training the other soldiers that came through for gun safety and started his day at about nine AM.

  He gathered his gear and headed out. He was able to see Howard Manuel and Sargent Simmons at the end of the block with their normal coffee cups in hand as they were every morning.

  “Good morning sleepy head!” Manuel exclaimed.

  Sargent Simmons laughed and the three walked down the block making small talk as they did every morning.

  Manuel lived with his new wife that he had married just before being deployed and had a child on the way. He was a small bit of a man and his sense of humor was uncanny. He was always saying or doing something that would normally get anyone else in trouble. He made things a bit bearable in Iraq some days. Funny thing was that he had landed the duty of a paper pusher on base after returning home which was difficult since he had to stay quiet in the office most of the time and was not the most thrilled that he worked in fairly close proximity with Simmons; however Simmons was not thrilled about it by any means either which made it fun for Manuel.

  Sargent Simmons was a monster of a man, he had to have been in the Army since he was born. Everything he did was about the Army and was always about his men and women that served. He would get angry at some of us infantry boys for screwing off so much when we were in Iraq, however, once back from overseas and on base, he had calmed down a bit if he was out of the office. His wife seemed to be the only person in this world he was scared of, and his grand children were the only ones that seemed to be able to make him smile, otherwise Simmons was as straight faced and tough as they came.

  The three dispersed in their separate directions at the fork in the road to take on their jobs for the day.

  On this Friday, the three neighbors went on about their daily routine as normal. Denson training on how to take apart and put together guns and teaching newer soldiers how to be safe.

  Manuel making snide remarks to Simmons as he went by that he ignored and paper airplanes flying across the room periodically while Simmons barked orders on what needed to be done as he swatted the planes and glared at Manuel. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

  Finally the end of the day was near and the three readied to start their weekend. Manuel and Denson would make their normal plans to cook out or drink or whatever came into play.

  Simmons normally wouldn’t fraternize with the infantry boys, but was seen being quite normal with his family out and about on base. His grandchildren, three children and their spouses would visit each weekend and his wife would make meals where the aroma spread through the entire neighborhood that made everyone jealous.

  It was their time off of everything where they could do what they wanted unless of some kind of emergency and their families understood that, so spent as much time as they could with them.

  As seventeen hundred rolled around (five o’clock civilian time) there was hooping and hollering from the men and women ready to have a relaxing weekend that entailed nothing military.

  Denson made his way to his two story home, while Manuel would hit up the commissary for some weekend needs. Simmons always went straight home.

  Manuel and his wife showed up shortly after Denson’s arrival home. Manuel and Denson made their way to the backyard and the women would stay in and gossip about the week and what wives did what.

  “I am so glad this week is over!” Denson told Manuel taking a swig of beer.

  “Me too, but I sure gave Simmons some hell today, it was fucking great. I am sure he was ready to get the hell away from me.” He laughed.

  “You know, I love that guy. But after all the time we spent together in Iraq, I am glad I do not work in the same office as he does. But, it is nice to know you’re there to annoy him daily.” He told his buddy.

  The two both downed their beer and began to fire up the grill. They could hear the mass of Simmons’s group from two houses down.

  “HEY, KEEP IT DOWN OVER THERE!” Manuel shouted in a low growled tone.

  The group got quiet.

  “SHUT UP MANUEL!” Simmons yelled back.

  Manuel began laughing hysterically.

  “Man, he is gonna get your ass one of th
ese days.” Denson warned.

  “I don’t give a shit, it will all be worth it.” He stated back.

  The wives came out to join their husband’s and brought Denson’s two children with them. Manuel’s wife was due any day. The two wives spent a lot of time together as they readied the nursery and went to appointments while the men were working.

  “What the hell are you two yelling about out here?” Sadee asked her husband.

  “Manuel is antagonizing the Sargent.” Denson told her. “So is that kid coming any time soon?” He asked Marie.

  “God, I hope so.” As Manuel’s wife tried to navigate her way into a chair.

  With the food on the grill and the four spending some time together, the sun was just starting to go down when a scream was heard from the way of the Sargent’s house.

  The four looked at each other and then toward the way the scream sounded from. Manuel and Denson rose from their chairs and instructed their wives to stay put. They made their way out of the six foot wooden gate of Denson’s back yard and cautiously toward the Sargent’s home.

  Manuel stood on a few bricks that were stacked near the fence and peered over into the yard. He was able to see a partial body lying in the middle of the back yard.

  “There is a body.” Manuel turned to Denson.

  As he turned to look back over the fence to look for others, a man popped up and was staring at him from the other side of the fence.

  “What the fuck!” Manuel fell backwards into Denson’s arms.

  “Get the hell off of me, what the hell?” Denson pushed him back up.

  “There is a mother fucker that looks like he has been skinned back there!” Manuel said quietly remembering his military training to be quiet when the enemy was located.

  “What, dude you’re drunk.” Denson told him.

  A bang sounded on the fence and made Denson and Manuel jump back from the fence.

  “Where the hell is the Sargent?” Denson whispered.

  The two crouched down and half crawled around the corner through a row of bushes to the front of Simmons’s house. Denson placed his hand on the door knob and looked back at Manuel to make sure that he was ready in case they had to fight.

  Denson slowly opened the door, still hunkered down, and stood to walk softly into the Sargent’s foyer. Manuel closed the door out of habit of training and moved in behind Denson after checking behind the door.

  They made their way to the living area and looked around for something to grab since neither had bought any weapons. Denson grabbed a fire poker and Manuel grabbed the shovel that went with the set.

  As they turned, they saw her at the same time, a female child laid on the floor, her face had been ripped to shreds and it appeared her mother, one of Simmons’ daughters, was trying to help her and laid only a mere few feet away appearing to reach for her child with her ribs exposed and her intestines pulled out and stretched across the floor.

  Manuel and Denson stared at each other for a few seconds trying to figure out what was going on. Denson motioned for Manuel to follow him. They both rounded the corner into an oversized kitchen. A woman was sprawled on the wooden island in the kitchen. Her stomach had been ripped open and all of her insides pulled out. Her half eaten stomach had been thrown to the floor, her intestines, as the daughter, were pulled out and the two men could tell that something or someone had been eating them as small bites had been taken out of them. Blood splatter had been spewed across the walls and floors. There was no sound in the house and were wondering how many people they would find that they would need to fight. They both questioned themselves on if they needed to leave or find the Sargent.

  “Where is Sarge?” Manuel asked.

  Denson shrugged as he waved Manuel on. They rounded another doorway and entered a large dining area. Two more children laid at the base of the long oak dining room table torn apart. An arm of one of the children had been dismembered and dropped on the other side of the table. Tendons showed and the muscles still twitched. Still with no sign of the Sargent, Denson signaled they needed to go up the stairs across from the dining area that led to the second level of the home. Manuel nodded and stepped across, put his back against the side of the wall and nodded to Denson, both began to ascend the staircase. Denson placed his back against the railing and slid up the stairs as well, all the while keeping an eye all around.

  They reached the top of the stairs to see a large amount of blood puddled into the carpet with a small trail of it leading into one of the many doors that lined the hall way. They both headed to that room, the door stood slightly ajar. Denson pushed the door open with his foot and could see another woman lying on the floor torn to shreds. The two turned all around looking for anyone that may have done all of this.

  “Sarge went fucking nuts!” Manuel whispered.

  “No, you sons of bitches, I didn’t!” They heard their Sargent’s voice.

  The two turned quickly to Sargent Simmons standing in the doorway with a bloody knife dangling from his hand down by his side.

  “Alright Simmons, just put the knife down.” Denson demanded.

  “It’s okay Sarge, we are here for you.” Manuel stated.

  “I did not do this to my family, I barely got away. I suggest you stand down and keep an eye out for them. We need to get over to your families to make sure they don’t get them. We need to get off base.” Simmons instructed.

  Simmons turned to make his way back downstairs expecting his men to follow. Denson stood back and watched his Sargent move to the top of the stairs and then turn to wait on them. Manuel shook his head, he knew what Denson was about to do.

  Denson charged at their Sargent and both of them tumbled down the stairs. Simmons still held the knife and Denson still held the poker. The two wrestled on the floor, both tumbling and tossing each other around. Denson poked at the knife and flung it away with the poker. Manuel stumbled down the stairs and to the bottom and grabbed the knife off of the tiled floor. He headed for the front door and waited for his partner. Denson punched Simmons hard and jumped to his feet. He backed up and held the poker to his Sargent’s chest.

  “Boy, I suggest you back the fuck up and listen. There are people on base that are killing others. I killed two of them as they followed me into the backyard.” He explained.

  “There is only one person in the back yard and it is one of yours.” Denson reassured.

  “Behind the shed, that is where I hid first, then I was able to make it in the house.” He stated as Denson allowed him to stand.

  Denson! Denson, look at this shit!” Manuel muttered.

  Denson still held the poker toward Simmons and side stepped to the small window that Manuel was peering out of.

  A man was staggering in the street and following a fellow officer. The officer stumbled and fell and was caught by the stumbling almost faceless man. He reached for the officer’s neck and bent down and bit him. He never let go and continued chewing across his chest and to his shoulder.

  “What in the hell!” Denson looked at his Sargent.

  “I told you, get to your families.” He told them.

  Manuel reached for the door.

  “WAIT!” Simmons instructed them.

  Both stopped in their tracks as Simmons viewed the men out in the street and waited for the creature to finish his meal and the unstable man to wander on. Simmons moved to the small table that sat in the living room and opened the top. He grabbed a pistol and threw it to Manuel and another and threw to Denson. He took a twenty two rifle for himself and closed the table top to hide any others. He motioned for them to go and followed behind them toward the home of Denson where the two families had been left.

  All three crouched back behind the bushes and slowly and quietly duck walked as the other two had before. They made their way past Manuel’s house and finally to the gate of Denson’s back yard. Denson flung the gate open to an empty back yard.

  “They were back here! They must be in the house.” Denson stated heading i
nto the house.

  He carefully looked through the window in the middle of his back door before opening and saw his small daughter crumbled in a corner covering her head, she opened her eyes and peered up at her father. Denson put his hand up at her trying to tell her to stay. She sat up and put her hands out to her father and began to cry. Denson put his finger to his mouth trying to convince her to be quiet. He slowly turned the knob and popped open the door as she ran to him with tears streaming down her face. Manuel reached in and closed the door back to leave the four standing outside. Simmons stood against the door and kept an eye on the inside.

  “Where is mommy?” Denson asked his daughter.

  “I don’t know.” She cried.

  “Where is Marie?” He asked.

  His daughter shrugged, keeping her head buried in his shoulder. He held his daughter close and the gun closer. He peered into his home and was unable to see any movement. Denson scanned his yard and knew that he needed to get into his house to find his wife and son and Manuel’s wife. He had to save them and get off base as soon as possible. He ran his daughter to the small closet under the canopy of the porch where he stored his tools and placed her inside.

  “I will be right back with mommy and brother. Stay here!” He sternly told her.

  She whimpered as he closed the door. He ran back to his back door and clicked it open again. He tip toed through the dining area that his wife sat in just moments before they had come outside to join them, while Manuel and Simmons followed him sweeping their guns across the open spaces. He hollered for his wife as Simmons grabbed his shoulder and turned him to the couch. Sadee and Marie both sat with their chests busted open. Manuel dropped to his knees in front of his wife. His unborn child had been taken. Denson grabbed his brother in arms and pulled him to his feet.

  Denson turned and bounded up the stairs to search for his son. He held his gun aimed out in front of him, ready to fire as he slowed his pace, crept from room to room and tearing up with no sign of his other child. He entered the last room, his own bedroom; his son’s torso laid on the floor with his half eaten leg and arm laying on the bed. His head had been torn off and appeared to have been thrown across the room which looked as though it had hit the wall, left a stain of blood and laid at the base of the night stand that held his digital clock.