by Jason Brant
Then he heard the woman screaming. She didn't sound all that close.
Spinning around, he looked for Ellis and Karen, but couldn't see anything through the maze of moaners. He'd been concentrating on pushing through to the tracks with such intensity that he never noticed them fall behind.
Ellis loosed a death cry in the distance.
Looking down at the pistols in his hands, McCall weighed his options.
He had twelve rounds left, plus his Colt. He hoped that would be enough to defend himself until the train arrived, but doubted it was enough to help them.
The smart move was to stand his ground and wait by the tracks. Too bad no one had ever accused him of being a smart man.
Jumping back into the fray, McCall waded through the moaners, carefully picking his shots. Only those who were close enough to endanger him were put down.
Heading to a growing crowd in the middle of the street, McCall watched as Karen fought against the swarm of the dead around her. She swung the rifle he'd given her with a fury that surprised him.
Admiring her spirit, he thought once again that he'd never met a woman like her before.
As he approached, a moaner got a hand on her shoulder and pulled her over. Four others closed in, tearing at her clothing and hair. She'd stopped struggling, seemingly accepting her fate.
McCall shot the closest man in the back of the head, sending his body crashing into a woman ripping away pieces of Karen's skirt.
Karen's head snapped around at the shot, her eyes locking on McCall's. He saw the fire reignite in her.
She kicked an elderly moaner in the chest, lifting him away from her. McCall shot away his jaw. Pistol whipping another man away, he reached down and heaved Karen to her feet.
The shrill train whistle came again, catching the attention of many of the creatures in the street.
McCall used the distraction to their advantage, cutting through the expanding crowd.
"I thought you'd left me," she said, panting as she tried to keep up.
"I almost did. Damn conscience got the better of me."
Squeezing the trigger of his pistol produced a dry click. Raising his other arm, he aimed the second gun and got the same result.
Throwing the six shooters to ground, he pulled the Peacemaker from the waist of his pants and shot through the eye of a naked man blocking their path. The man, hobbling on a stump where his foot used to be, showered the area with a red mist as his head exploded.
The train emerged from behind the last house on the street. It was still moving too fast to stop, but had slowed enough that McCall hoped they could hop aboard.
Grabbing Karen's hand, he sprinted forward, throwing his shoulder against a man wearing an expensive looking suit.
Firing his remaining bullets, he blasted through the last of the moaners, leaving nothing but space before the train.
Four passenger cars were pulled behind the engine car, with the freight in the rear. Shoving the Colt into an empty holster, McCall turned and ran along the tracks in the same direction as the train.
The engine car pulled past them as they raced forward with most of Gehenna's dead chasing them. The brakes squealed as the locomotive continued to slow down.
McCall looked into the first window of the passenger car as it pulled beside them. A young man stared at him with wide-eyed bewilderment. Apparently the sight of two people being chased by thousands of mutilated townsfolk wasn't a common occurrence for him.
"Open the door, asshole!" Karen said between huffs.
The young man looked at them for another second before running down the length of the car to the door. McCall slowed his pace slightly, watching the man pass the windows.
The door opened and the young man stuck his head out, the perplexed look still in full display.
"What's going on? It looks like the entire town is burning!"
Instead of answering, McCall grabbed the back of Karen's dress and threw her into the doorway. She landed on the stairs before scrambling to the top of them.
McCall looked over his shoulder at the shambling mass of cannibals trailing behind. A few of them wandered into the side of the train only to be knocked to the ground, their limbs severed under the mighty locomotive.
Lunging for the bottom step, McCall boarded the train as it continued to slow down. Soon it would reach a full stop, their hope of escape with it.
Karen was two steps ahead of him as they marched through the passenger car. Many of the passengers gasped at the sight of their bloody, torn clothing, and shrank into their seats. Others fixed on the anarchy out the windows, watching Gehenna and its citizens burn.
Opening the door to the engine car, Karen burst in with an intensity that made the conductor wilt. He was a small man of advancing years. A tiny, perfectly knotted bowtie sat against his neck, and thinly framed glasses hung from the end of his nose.
"Don't stop the train!" Karen had to shout to be heard over the rumble of the engine.
"You can't be in here!" the conductor said, gaping at her. "Do you have a ticket?"
McCall freed his Peacemaker from its holster and jammed the end of the barrel into the conductor’s crotch, forcing him to bend at the waist.
"Speed up," Karen said.
"But−"
"Listen to the lady, or become one," McCall said.
The man backed away from the gun, staring at McCall's face.
"You're Mad Dog McCall! I thought you'd be y−"
"Don't even say it."
The conductor didn't like what he saw in McCall's eyes. "Yes, sir," he said as he turned to the boiler.
Shouting behind them caused McCall and Karen to look back into the passenger car.
"Now what?" Karen asked.
McCall wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. He had had enough excitement for the day. Maybe he'd already died and this was his eternal torment in Hell? No matter what he did, he fell into one never ending chaotic event after another.
The weight of the train shifted, signaling their acceleration.
Opening the cylinder on his Peacemaker, he checked his ammunition. Nothing. At least he still had the gun.
"Empty?" Karen asked.
McCall gave her a slight nod before holstering the gun.
"So much for your good luck charm."
"That gun is empty?" the conductor asked.
McCall turned back to him. "I don't need bullets to put a hurt on you."
"We're going to see what the shouting is about. If I feel this train slowing down, you'll answer to my friend here," Karen said, bobbing her head at McCall.
The conductor held her gaze for a moment before lowering his eyes in submission.
McCall went into the passenger car, leery of the next turn of events. A young man charged up the center aisle with blood smeared all over his shirt. He held his left hand tight against his chest.
"What the hell is the shouting about?" McCall asked
The man was nearing hysterics. "He bit me!"
"Who?" Karen asked. McCall could tell from the tone of her voice that she was thinking the same thing he was.
"The man we let onto the train!"
"What? Who did you let on?" she asked.
"He was stumbling around, just outside the door to the car behind this one. We opened the door and tried to pull him in, but he bit my hand! The guy is shithouse crazy! He was injured real bad! His nose is gone! It's just gone!"
"Where is he now?" McCall asked.
"They've got him tied up back there, but he bit eight or ten of us before we got the ropes around him."
McCall and Karen looked at each other, their shoulders slumping simultaneously.
"Goddamn it…" Karen said.
Excerpt from ECHOES
A bestselling Action/Thriller from Jason Brant
Three hard knocks at the door jarred us out of the moment.
"The landlord must have sprouted wings to get here this fast," I said. Pushing away from the table, I walked to the door.
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It wasn't the super waiting in the hallway. Three men stood there, all wearing suits in various stages of disarray. It looked like they had slept in them. When someone in a suit comes looking for you, it's never a good thing. When three of them show up you probably need a lawyer.
The man in front wore a black suit and was clearly the head honcho. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe 5'10", and had a strong, wiry build. His face could have been chiseled out of granite. A long, thin scar ran down his left cheek that looked like it could have been caused by a knife. His graying cropped hair implied he had been, or still was, some kind of military. I'd seen guys like him while stationed in Iraq. You could always tell who the major players were: they wore suits in the middle of a warzone. He was one of those.
Two very serious looking hombres flanked him on either side. Judging by their beards and thousand yard stares they were definitely Special Forces. The white guy on Scarface's left stood taller than the others, close to my height, with dirty blonde hair. He looked through me more than at me. The other one was significantly shorter and of Asian descent. His eyes scanned the apartment behind me.
These guys weren't here for pizza and Pop Tarts.
"I don't really need any more magazine subscriptions," I said.
I live on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator. Those four flights of stairs are a good way to measure if someone is in decent shape or not. Even a gym rat starts to perspire a little by the top. They must have floated up here because they weren't even breathing hard.
"Asher Benson, my name is Smith," Scarface said.
"Smith? How original."
"Mr. Benson, we need you to come with us immediately," Smith said. His voice and expression were flat as a pancake.
"Oh, you aren't selling magazine subscriptions? What are you peddling then? Vacuum cleaners? Religion?" I snapped my fingers. "I got it! Girl scout cookies. I probably could probably swing a few boxes of thin mints."
"We believe your life is in danger." He looked past me and saw Samantha sitting at the table. "Who's the woman?"
"The 'woman' is none of your business. Who the hell are you guys? Why would my life be in danger?"
"Unfortunately, we don't have time to discuss this here. You'll be briefed when we're on the road. This isn't a negotiation." Even his diction was plain.
I looked at all three of them, trying to gauge the situation.
"So that's why you brought Chuck Norris and Jackie Chan – extra muscle to drag me out of here if I didn't cooperate. I appreciate you being concerned about my wellbeing, but there's a rerun of Cheers on tonight that I really want to watch, so—"
"Please escort the young woman outside," Smith said over his shoulder to the Chuck Norris lookalike. "We need to leave now."
"Don't even think about—"
Jackie grabbed my arm, pulled me into the hallway, and twisted it behind my back before I even saw him move. His grip was like iron. I never had a chance.
I tried pushing away from the wall, failing miserably. Since they had me completely immobilized, I started concentrating on Smith. Wrapping my mind around his, I grasped at the edges of his thoughts. Jackie pulled my arm up even higher, sending bolts of pain shooting through my shoulder. The joint made a nasty creaking sound. I lost my mental grip.
Inside the apartment Sammy yelled something that I couldn't make out.
Smith pulled a syringe out of his inside jacket pocket, took the cap off the end, and jabbed it in my neck.
"What the hell!" I yelled as I tried to pull my neck away. Warmth spread throughout my head.
"Relax, Mr. Benson, it's just an opiate. We don't need you probing into areas that aren't meant for you."
"How can you possibly know—"
"All of your questions will be answered in due time."
"Get off me! Someone help! We're being abducted!" Sammy screamed. Chuck carried her out of my apartment and brought her over to where we were standing. He handed her purse to Smith.
"Ash, what's going on?"
My mind felt like it was turning into mush. Concentration was becoming impossible.
"I have no idea, but it seems like we're being kidnapped by the Expendables," I said. That earned me a cuff to the back of the head from Jackie.
Smith fished her I.D. out of her purse and glanced at it. "Ms. Moore, I suggest you calm down. We're doing this for your own safety. Please remain silent as we leave the building."
"Leave the building? Kiss my ass! Put me down, you oaf. Where's your warrant? Wait until the NCAA hears about this!"
"NCAA?" I asked. "You mean the ACLU?"
"Yeah! I'm going to sue the crap out of these guys!"
Smith threw her purse back into the apartment before heading to the stairwell.
"Hey! I need that!"
Chuck put his hand over her mouth, grabbed her around the waist and started carrying her down the stairs.
"Hey!" I struggled in Jackie's grip, but my strength had evaporated. "There's no need to handle her like that." My entire body felt loose and disconnected. Despite all that was happening, I started to feel blissful.
They weren't giving me any options, at least not any that I could capitalize on anymore, so I let them lead us down the stairwell. Sammy never stopped yelling into Chuck's hand. She put up one hell of a struggle. Watching him try to carry her down four flights of stairs as she squirmed in his arms must have struck me as hilarious, because I began to giggle. Whatever they gave me had quite a kick.
As we walked out the front door of the building, they steered us toward a large white van that sat at the curb. Chuck opened the back door and threw Sammy in. Jackie pushed me beside her. The three of them climbed in, Jackie taking the wheel, and we peeled away from the curb.
"I can't believe this! Ash, please tell me who these men are!" Samantha saw the dumbass smile on my face and turned her anger on me. "How can you smile at a time like this? These men abducted us!"
"You have the cutest dimples when you're mad," I said.
She looked at me as if I had gone completely insane, which wasn't a stretch at that point. Leaning close to my face, she examined my eyes.
"What did you do to him? His pupils are the size of a needle."
"The extent of his abilities remains a mystery to us. We had to utilize a high dosage. He'll be fine in a few hours," Smith said. His tone was so matter-of-fact he could have been reading baseball statistics. "I apologize for using such extreme measures, but certain safety protocols had to be maintained. You weren't our objective, but your proximity to Mr. Benson has endangered you."
"Abilities, dosage, objective? Speak English, asshole!"
"Here they come," Chuck said as he peered out the rear window.
The rest of us turned and looked out the window, seeing a white van slide to a stop in front of our building. A trapdoor opened on the top and a man rose out of it, waist high. He lifted a rocket launcher onto his shoulder and fired it through the window of my apartment.
The front wall of the building exploded outward, showering the street with bricks, wood, and what was left of my burning belongings. Most of Sammy's place burned as well.
"Holy shit!" Sammy screeched.
Two more men dressed in black climbed out of the van and ran into the building. They were armed from head to toe.
"I don't think they spotted us," Jackie said. He watched the action in the van's large mirror to his left.
My vision went in and out like a light bulb on a dimmer switch.
"That looked awesome," I said, my words slurring as the world swam before my eyes.
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Gehenna
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter
11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
GEHENNA
by JASON BRANT
Copyright © 2012 Jason Brant
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Jason Brant.
