Not Alone: The Beginning (The Fighter Series Book 1)

by Kolleen Bookey

  Not Alone

  By Kolleen Bookey

  Text Copyright © 2016 Kolleen K Bookey

  All Rights Reserved

  I dedicate this book to my patient husband John, my cheering section Jolleen, Corri and my muse Rowdy.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  PROLUGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  FORTY-FIVE

  FORTY-SIX

  FORTY-SEVEN

  FORTY-EIGHT

  FORTY-NINE

  FIFTY

  FIFTY-ONE

  FIFTY-TWO

  FIFTY-THREE

  FIFTY-FOUR

  FIFTY-FIVE

  FIFTY-SIX

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  FIFTY-NINE

  SIXTY

  SIXTY-ONE

  SIXTY-TWO

  SIXTY-THREE

  SIXTY-FOUR

  SIXTY-FIVE

  SIXTY-SIX

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  SIXTY-NINE

  SEVENTY

  SEVENTY-ONE

  PROLUGUE

  JUNE 11, 2014

  Demons chased her in her dreams until a noise; loud enough to wake her from a dead sleep, caused her to wake. Clearly, exhaustion had caught up to her and she’d fallen victim to slumber allowing the nightmares in. Uncertain if the sound had come from within her hallucinations; sliding her hand under the pillow, she wrapped her fingers around the pistol. Hearing the sound again, she was quick to shake off the fogginess in her brain and embraced a fear-filled clarity. She was the only one in the house. As of last week, she had a restraining order on her husband Mark after he’d tried to kill her while she slept. The order stated he could not come within five hundred feet of her, but then he wasn’t one to follow rules. However, being a cop had its benefits, like knowing his every move. She knew he was preoccupied with one of his many flings. She also knew a protective order was just a piece of paper and typically only aggravated most domestic situations. If he was in their house now, she had the right to shoot if she felt threatened. She could only hope. Motionless, she slid her finger to the trigger and listened. Her heart was thumping so hard, it was pulsating in her ears.

  Shhhhhush.

  A warm Northern California breeze had started to stir earlier in the evening. Maybe it was the wind moving a branch on the overgrown Elm tree tapping the side of the house. Just another forgotten and honey-do Mark had failed to take care of.

  The tempo of the tapping stopped. There was a long silence and then a thump. She raised her eyes to the night table searching the darkness for her cell phone. The edges caught the light from the streetlights outside and the blue light beat like a life about to meet death. Shadows danced with the summer breeze. Creepy shapes projected and bounced on the bedroom wall. She shifted her gaze to the clock; it read 1:13 AM. “Only the wind,” her inner voice said. A noise within the house made her heart accelerate. Houses settle, boards move. I set the house alarm. The house hummed silence. No one is inside. She brought the pistol out at the same time she grabbed her cell phone. She tapped the top contact and waited for it to ring. All she got was a busy signal. Shivering, she slid from the sheets to the floor. She dialed Jackson’s number again. Busy. She crossed the floor stopping just to the side of her bedroom door. She pressed her pistol forward straining to see past to the outline of the door.

  Sleep hadn’t come easy the past few days. Her nerves were shattered while planning her escape. All of which were a direct result of her husband’s latest attack on her. She glanced at the doorknob. The skin on her index finger felt the slight gap in the trigger. Maybe Mark had manipulated the code on the alarm. She listened, because there was that part in the floor just outside their door that moaned underweight. If someone approached, she would know. The silence sent chills across her skin. She was prepared to kill anyone crossing over that threshold that separated her and the hallway.

  Without any warning, she heard the turn of the knob. Darkness manipulated her suspicions turning them into razor sharp intuition. Whoever it was, knew about the squeaky board making her think it was none other than Mark coming for her. She let her fingers rest on the knob. It rolled under her touch and then it began to shake. Riley hit the power button on her phone bringing up Jackson’s number one more time. There was a millisecond of silence before the door folded open. Wood and metal exploded, the knob fell to the floor. It rolled as if on an uneven surface rolling to the furthest end of the room.

  As the stranger bolted through, Riley darted sideways dropping her phone. He was no more than a dark shadow. Blue fire sparkled in the place of his eyes. It felt as if electricity shot through the room merely by his presence. Stepping backward, her finger pressed the trigger on her weapon. The explosion sent a vibration through her hand. She smelled it, hell she could even taste it, gunpowder resonating in the air. The slip of a chuckle, a step and the sound of him coming toward her ripped her from sleep. She fought to sit upright in bed. Sweat soaked her tank top and sweats making the material stick to her like glue. With a dry throat, she smacked her lips together trying to take a breath to slow the beat of her heart. Searching for comfort, she reached for her pistol, but it was gone. The bedroom door was open. Her cell phone lay face up on the floor, the screen on and calling. She shivered.

  Leaping from the bed, scooping up her phone, she held it to her ear. “Eric. Are you there? Eric.”

  “Riley?” His voice touched her but did not calm her.

  “Someone was here.” She whispered staring at the door. “He called you. My gun.”

  “Get out of there Riley. Go to Jackson’s. Get in the truck and go now.”

  Riley kept the phone to her ear while searching for her gun. When she saw it, she instantly felt a cold wash of trepidation. Sitting on the chair across from her bed laid her pistol, the barrel pointing directly at the bed. She may have knocked the phone off the nightstand, but her gun hadn’t walked across the room and taken up a chair. She had a visitor. Someone had watched her sleep, somebody with access to the house. Someone who could have easily killed her.

  “I’m going to Jackson’s. I’ll call you when I get there.” She whispered into the phone.

  “Riley, keep the phone on. Just do what you need to and get out.” Eric said. “Keep the phone on.”

  “No, call Jackson. Tell him to send a unit.” Then she hung up. Riley grabbed her gun, checked the chamber and then dropped the magazine. Every bullet had been taken out of her gun except for the one in the chamber
. Snatching her packed bag from under the bed and without taking her eyes off the door and hallway, she slipped on her running shoes, grabbed her keys from between the mattress and then got the hell out of the house but not before grabbing a hidden full magazine of ammo.

  ONE

  Sirens blasted in the air, calamity that resembled African termites sending out vibrations in warning to prepare for attack. Riley’s first thought was to go back and get Jackson, but that meant delaying what she’d already procrastinated too long. She passed through the gate toward the walkway leading down a row of office buildings when an explosion, heard but not seen, shook the ground under her feet. She stopped mid-stride. The safety lights overhead flickered erratically and then shut off, leaving her in complete darkness. If it hadn’t been for the full moon producing a lucent amber light overhead, she might have been scared, but when she stepped out and stared out into a blackened city, her heart began to race.

  “What the….?” She whispered. An increase in urgency raced through her. The thought of terrorism played on her thoughts if only for a second causing her to pick up her pace. Another flipping full moon. She thought. From experience, she knew animals and people alike reacted sometimes abnormally to a full moon and after last night, she wasn’t sticking around to watch the freaks. Tonight however, was the appearance of rare full Honey Moon attracting photographers, lookie loos, and lunatics from their normal time of sleep?

  Then the sound of more sirens signaled in the distance and the air suddenly went static, prickling her senses. A hint of smoke united with the smell of coming rain. Dark grey clouds stretched thick to both sides of the moon threatening just that, rain. Why should her sendoff be easy, nothing else was?

  “It was a transformer.” Riley said softly pulling out her cell and dialing the office number. Only a busy signal hummed in her ear. A voice in her head screamed, hurry! Stop messing around. He’ll kill you. Get in your truck and get out. Remember last night. Because wanting something so badly usually ends up with someone or something wanting to stop you.

  Still cradling the phone, she heard a not so distant conversation-taking place. Looking past her own truck, she saw a man, woman and child walking towards a black BMW. She slipped to the next breezeway of another office building closing the distance between them. Even at this distance, she recognized Tim Hunt. He had been making media headlines all year preparing to run for attorney general. They had no security around them, which was odd especially this late at night. While Tim fumbled for his keys, his wife pulled their daughter protectively, her voice taking an urgent tone.

  They’re in a hurry. Riley watched. More sirens blasted through the night. “What is going on?” This time she whispered aloud.

  About to step out from under the covering, she watched a group of men slip into the parking lot from out of the far alley. No good was going to happen, not with a darkened city and a wealthy politician forced into confronting a gang of thugs.

  Without forethought, she withdrew her concealed to carry nine millimeter and then took note of the weight of the forty strapped to her leg underneath her jeans. Protection was not paranoia since her husband had crossed the boundaries of cruelty nearly killing her more than once and several more times in the past few weeks. She shot off to the side behind another office building.

  The atmosphere held a motionless mood as dark clouds hung to the sides of the amber moon. For now, the liquid light was splashing down on the blacked out city and revealing the intentions of the wolves beginning to surround their prey, Tim Hunt and his family were now in grave danger. His daughter, no more than seven years old, pulled on her baby blue sweater drawing the material close to her lips.

  Sweat, not from the approaching moisture clashing with heat, but from her internal conflict wreaking havoc on her nerves, layered a blanket of perspiration over Riley’s skin. The absence of the humming of electricity shooting through the power lines resonated a dead silence. She’d stepped into this parking lot more than a thousand times over the years mostly at this time of night, always vigilant and always safe. Until tonight.

  “Shit.” She said trying the office number again only to get a busy signal. If she turned back now they’ll see her.

  Just seconds ago and just after midnight, she’d handed in her badge to Jackson and he’d signed her transfer papers with a grave look of concern. Now she was loaded down with two personal weapons minus the uniform running for Arizona. Get on the road, now. Get out of the city fast. “There’s only one of you and more than ten of them.” She whispered feeling the rush of adrenaline pumping through her body. She tried the phone again. Busy. The line should have switched over to dispatch.

  The tawny light of the moon exposed dark clouds beginning to form in the southern skies. In the not so far distance, to the right of the full moon, a single distant strand of lightning popped. Though rain hadn’t been in today’s forecast, Mother Nature was about to unleash her fury. They were in for more than just one hell’ve storm, the city was in for a catastrophic change. She kept her eyes on Tim and the pack.

  “What do you want? I have money,” Tim yelled out. Twenty-dollar bills fell from his wallet onto the ground. “I have a car.” He shoved the keys at one of the men. More of the pack stepped out of the darkness. Tim and his family had nowhere to go. If only he’d been carrying. At a distance, she caught flashes of emergency lights bouncing off buildings.

  “I’ll take the keys, the woman, and the kid.” One man had stepped up. He got started on Tim’s. “I don’t need you,” he said.

  Riley pressed into the wall melting into the darkness. Still uncovered, the moon overhead casted a soft glow on Tim’s face as well as his well to do business suit. Tim’s wife stood behind him using her body as a shield. They clung near the black Mercedes as if hoping for a chance of escape, but there would be none. The dim cargo light shone from the trunk revealing the suitcases about to get soaked by the rain. The luggage would never make it into the trunk. The pack didn’t want the family’s belongings or their money. They wanted so much more.

  The girl turned in her direction. “Help us Riley?”

  The girl’s voice entered into her head as clears as if she were standing right next to her. Riley shook her head trying to clear her mind. Through the shadows, she saw the girl’s ashen face and felt her fear. Long locks of twisted hair plastered her doll like face. She locked her arms around her mother’s thighs. Her mother pulled her protectively inward. She would die to save her child. “Please help us.” Her tiny words were clear while her mouth never moved.

  A large silhouette stepped from the shadows. His energy alone forced her attention from the girl to him. Tall and broad, he appeared from out of nowhere. His pack parted as he approached taking up residence at the front of the car as a king would his throne. His features and his face concealed by a hood from the amber light. The shadowed form reflected something sinister. Beneath the façade of cover on his face, she swore she saw a gleam of blue eyes. She thought of the intruder in her dreams. He moved towards the family, his gun aimed at Tim’s heart. Riley reached down and withdrew her forty. The other thugs parted and at that moment, the moon disappeared altogether. Then, it started to rain.

  A cold fear washed over Riley prompting her to lay her fingers on the triggers of both her weapons. The family was running out of time. Feeling a weightless sensation possibly the adrenaline, Riley stepped out of the shadows into the fading light. The alpha blue-eyed wolf turned toward her.

  “Leave them alone.”

  The pack turned on her fast. The repeated popping of gunfire scattered all the men but one. She hit one and a spray of blood exploded outward into the sheets of transparent light. The red liquid sparkled between the falling rains. Riley fired again. For a split second, she thought of her brother Eric, who’d be expecting her in twelve hours. Mad she’d probably be late; she sent another bullet into one of the devil’s chest. The duplication of gunfire rang in the air. When she caught the first bullet, Riley realized she might
never see Eric again. Her flesh felt like it was on fire. She fell backward drawing on the third man hitting him with a nine-millimeter slug. Several of the thugs fled into the abyss, while the alpha male and main pack remained. She was outnumbered. She couldn’t leave the family, the little girl. She was all they had.

  “Get out of here,” She climbed to her feet yelling at Tim.

  The ringleader stepped towards her just as another bullet blasted her right side. The impact of the hit shoved her backwards buckling her over. She went down again, but rage was recharging her. The gang rallied around them with weapons drawn pacing from side to side in a fevered state. Riley’s hands trembled. From the ground, she pointed both her weapons in their direction. Tim pulled his wife, who had their daughter attached to her. He was moving them in closer to Riley, seeking the safety of her weapons. Wet strands of hair fell in front of Riley’s eyes making it hard to see. Water and blood pooled to the ground. They could’ve taken her then but they didn’t. Tim reached down and brought Riley to her feet. They’d kill them all in the end, but she wasn’t going out without a fight.

  Riley yelled at Tim, “run!”

  Jolted, Tim reached for his wife, but it was a millisecond too late. There was a pop and a puff of liquid exploded from his wife’s chest painting her fancy white coat red. Through the dim light, the woman’s face contorted in pain. Instinctively, she reached out to grab her daughter, but fell backward instead. The little girl screamed.

  Without forethought, Riley squeezed the trigger dropping the woman’s executioner in one shot. Riley’s bullet cut through bone and flesh exploding the killer’s heart. One of the wolves, a pack member behind the dead man, grabbed up the girl and began to run.

  They weren’t giving her a chance to take out their leader. Riley put her sight on the perpetrator’s knee and pulled the trigger catapulting them both to the ground. It was the only resolution to a possible kidnapping, and the impact of the fall set the little girl free. Dropping her magazine and tucking her nine under her arm, Riley retrieved more ammo. Within milliseconds, she had her weapon reloaded and hot. A shot rang out a shot that stung her in the thigh. As she was going down, Tim Hunt was racing after his daughter. She heard the shot and saw his body catapult forward. The lavish suit ripped as he landed on his side, the pavement breaking his expensive watch free from his hand bracing the fall. The gold Rolex skipped across the pavement stopping only inches from the ringleader’s feet. Off to the side, the girl was running blindly toward the buildings through darkness alone.