Bad Moon on the Rise (Soldiers of New Eden Book 3)

by T. L. Knighton

  Bad Moon on the Rise

  T.L. Knighton

  Copyright © 2015 Flint River Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1512026047

  ISBN-10: 1512026042

  DEDICATION

  To Mom

  My biggest fan, my greatest cheerleader, and my closest friend. You were by my side when no one else was. For that, I will always thank you. I know that I will miss you for all of my remaining days.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Books don't happen in a vacuum. Despite the image of the lone writer toiling away, there's always more to it than that. We all need love and support from our families and friends, and I'm certainly no exception. In my case, I have to thank my wife, Jennifer, and my children. I have to especially thank my son, Robert, who took care of things so I could focus on writing.

  I also need to thank my writer friends who encouraged me through a difficult time during the writing of this book. In particular, Sarah A. Hoyt, who has stepped into the role of mentor with grace and understanding. Since she's dealing with me, that's an even more impressive achievement.

  Nothing would have happened at all without the help of my good friend, Aaron Barringer. Aaron has three combat tours in Iraq under his belt and has been invaluable in helping me get some of the combat details right in both this book and in Bloody Eden. I hope to pick his brain on a number of projects going forward.

  I thank them all.

  Chapter 1

  Hector walked through the dark alleyway, clay-colored and whitewashed walls serving sentinel duty on either side. After a long day, he was ready to get back home to his wife and kids. Despite his goal in life having been healing others, he'd spent a good bit of time before the nukes learning how to hurt people. Frankly, he was good at it. Good enough that he didn't really fear dark alleys.

  "Well, what do we have here?" asked an unfamiliar voice from the shadows.

  Hector turned and peered into the darkness. "Can I help you?" he asked, the adrenaline already starting to course through his veins.

  "Maybe. You're Deputy Hector Martinez, right?"

  That's not good, Hector thought. Regular thugs wouldn't really want to tangle with a deputy. It just wasn't worth the hassle. The fact that these guys knew who he was? Whole different ballgame.

  "You gonna answer us?" the voice asked.

  Hector nodded and shifted his bodyweight. Every fiber of his being told him a fight was coming. "Yeah, that's me. Is that a problem?"

  A figure stepped out of the darkness. It was a muscular man wearing only jeans and a vest, his exposed skin covered in tattoos. "Not for us," the man said, a jerk of his head drawing his attention to three more men. All were attired similar to the first man.

  Hector eased his hand toward this pistol strapped to his waist. A sudden tug, and he swung his grip the rest of the way, revealing his empty holster. He quickly glanced behind him, revealing yet another man with a wicked grin…and his pistol.

  Man, this is going to be a long night. "What do you want?" Hector asked.

  The first man smiled. "Your ass," he said as he pulled out a collapsible baton.

  Yep. A really long night.

  The first man raised the baton and moved forward so quickly it seemed to be a single motion. The baton whistled through the air as it swung forward. Hector stepped forward and raised his arm, taking the other man's wrist on his forearm. A split second later, the big deputy slammed his fist into the other man's stomach.

  The tattooed man gasped for air as he collapsed to his knees.

  Hector turned to face the three men. They had inched closer while he dealt with the talker. All three moved gracefully, despite their muscular build. Oh, great. Just what I need tonight. People who know what they're doing. Why is it never easy?

  The man on his left stepped forward as he threw an overhand right. Hector easily blocked it, but winced as an unseen blow sent to the mid section of his back shockwaves through his body, rattling his kidneys. He turned his attention to the man on the right. A second later, a blow landed on his temple, stunning him.

  He staggered back, shaking his head. He opened his eyes wider, desperate to fight back the blackness attempting to overtake him. A sharp blow to the back of his right knee dropped him onto the hard packed dirt. Another blow crashed into him where his neck and shoulder met, crumpling him onto the ground.

  There on the ground, a flurry of blows rained down on him. Most were kicks to his head and body, but not all of them.

  As the darkness invaded his vision, the four men circled him.

  "Tough son of a bitch," one of the men said, a bit shorter than the others with a winged dagger tattooed on his chest.

  "Not tough enough," the first man said. He then raised his foot, moving over Hector's face. The deputy fought to raise his hands to stop what was coming. His hands began to inch upward from the ground, an act of pure will. Will, however, wasn't quick enough.

  Hector Martinez felt terror for a split second before the boot slammed down on his face.

  ** ** **

  The banging on the door tore Jason from the first decent sleep he'd managed for months. His pants on, he opted to forgo a shirt as he padded toward the wooden door.

  Again, the banging came.

  "I'm coming," he yelled. To himself, he muttered, "Keep your pants on. It's too damn early for this shit."

  He opened the door and looked at the young man. On his chest was the brass star of the Rangers. "Sorry to bother you so early in the morning," the young man said, the sun's light only touching the horizon behind him.

  "Well, I'm awake now," Jason growled. "What's the problem?"

  "Rick asked me to come and get you. Someone found a body this morning."

  That grabbed Jason's attention. "A body?"

  The young man nodded.

  "Who?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know, sir. Rick pulled me from the garrison to get you."

  Jason nodded. Rangers weren't technically supposed to work crimes inside the town, but they often assisted local law enforcement, particularly in places like New Eden where manpower was low. "Alright. Give me a minute to finish getting dressed."

  The young man nodded as Jason turned and walked back to his bedroom.

  He hurriedly threw on his shirt and boots, then walked to his daughter's room. It wasn't the first time she'd been left alone for a couple of hours, and it wouldn't be the last. However, Jason preferred for his daughter to at least know why no one would be home when she got up.

  That task complete, Jason followed the younger Ranger down the alley toward a large crowd. Most of the people were Rangers, but a few locals were up and about as well. As Jason got to the crowd, he spoke loudly. "Alright everyone. I've got this. You all need to go back to what you should be doing right about now." Like take your asses back to bed, he thought bitterly. Pure jealousy, he knew, but he felt better for the internal snark.

  "Sorry, Dad," the largest of the Rangers said, a shock of blonde hair and shoulders as wide as the Appalachian Mountains. Rick was only nineteen years old, but had the respect of much older Rangers. Then again, the fight with Somerton a couple of years earlier had actually led to the formation of their entire government in a way, which made Rick a founding father of sorts.

  Jason shrugged as he looked at his son. "You didn't have a lot of choice. Ironic that I was actually asleep for once."

  Rick shook his head. "It's not that. We're taking this one."

  Jason cocked his head to the side a touch as he looked at his son. "Even murders are local. You know it as well as I do, so don't pull that jurisdiction shit on me, alrigh
t?"

  His son shook his head. "It's local unless it involves law enforcement."

  The words stunned him. Law enforcement? His confusion must have been obvious since Rick answered his unspoken question. "It's Hector."

  The words were a blow to Jason's gut. He found himself looking around, trying to take in the news. "Who? What the hell…what happened?"

  "Not sure, but it looks like there were multiple attackers, but that's about all we know right now."

  "Witnesses?"

  Rick nodded. "We're talking to them now."

  "His family?"

  "I asked Billy to handle it."

  Jason nodded, still in shock.

  "Look, I know this is kind of a stupid question, but do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?"

  Jason laughed. The chuckle lacked any humor. "He was a deputy. Most people loved him, but the worst in this town hated him. Just like Billy and me."

  Rick nodded. "Kinda what I figured."

  Jason nodded, then stepped forward. The body of his friend lay at an angle, a white sheet draped over him. Blood soaking through the white in a couple of places. Any footprints were long gone, obliterated by Rangers walking around the dusty alley.

  "Any plaster?" Jason asked.

  "Yeah, a couple of good prints. Took them before you got here."

  "Any chance of me taking a look?"

  Rick shrugged. "That'll be up to the new investigator."

  "When are they due in?" The old investigator had been unceremoniously dumped after repeated complaints regarding drinking on duty. Of course, what that should have said was "drunk off his ass". It was just one of many issues with the Rangers, but Jason managed to overlook the others. More or less.

  "Thursday."

  Jason nodded. "Mind if I'm there when they show up?"

  "Nope. I was going to talk to you about it before this happened anyways."

  Jason nodded again and crouched next to the body. He carefully lifted the sheet. After twelve years of hard life, he'd seen plenty of bodies. Hell, he'd transformed plenty from "living person" to "body" during his time. It was never easy when it was someone you knew well. It was even worse when it was someone you really cared about.

  Hector Martinez didn't look peaceful. His color looked unnatural to Jason, his face busted and bloodied.

  "Look," Rick said, snagging Jason's attention, "Try and think of any potential suspects for us, alright? I know it'll be a fairly long list, but we don't mind having a talk with them."

  Jason stood. "Yeah. I'll see what I can do."

  "I'm sorry, Dad. I really am. Hector was a good guy."

  He nodded. "Yeah, he was."

  "Why don't you head on home. We'll let you know if we need anything. I'll keep you in the loop as best I can."

  Jason nodded but said nothing as he turned and walked away.

  ** ** **

  Rick stared at his father's back as the man walked away. He knew this was tearing the guy up. For years, Hector had been like a second father to him. Just like his father's other deputy, Billy Amhurst. But Hector was one of his dad's best friends. If Rick was hurting, Jason was hurting twice as much.

  "Back off," another Ranger growled from behind Rick.

  Rick swung his gaze just in time to see one of the younger Rangers shove an older on.

  "Mother fucker," the older Ranger barked, then grabbed the younger man and punched him.

  In an instant, the two men threw a flurry of punches. Other Rangers jumped in, some trying to stop the fight and others trying to join in.

  "Oh, son of a bitch," Rick muttered as he thrust himself squarely in the middle. "Knock it off," he yelled, taking the two men by the collar and physically holding them apart.

  The two men looked up at him, their eyes wide in a mixture of anger and fear. Rick Calvin easily stood a head taller than most of his fellow Rangers. Plus, despite his youth, he had a reputation that commanded respect.

  "Now, if you two morons are done, we've got work to do. In case you missed it, this is a deputy sheriff of this town. It's also one of my father's closest friends and someone I personally thought the whole damn world of. You're not about to disrespect his corpse by pulling more of this stupid bullshit here. You got me?"

  Around him, heads nodded in confirmation. "Good," Rick barked. "Now everyone get back to work."

  The Rangers went back to their previous chores as Rick let go of the two combatants. Third damn fight this week, he thought. It sure as hell would be nice if they funneled some of that energy into doing their damn jobs for a change.

  ** ** **

  Long days were normal in Jason's line of work. Usually, he had two of his best friends around to help the time pass. Today was different. Billy had spent most of the day with the Martinez family, which Jason understood completely. That left it up to him to compile a list of every dirt bag in town that might have wanted to see Hector dead.

  Once he finished, he stood and put on his brown leather jacket. He shrugged it on just as a knock on the office door echoed through the room. Jason rolled his eyes, not really interested in the petty squabbles that typically invaded his evening hours.

  He strode to the door and opened it. The man who entered was about Jason's height, with a medium build. His shirt hid most of his torso, but the cable-like muscles on his forearm betrayed his fitness level.

  "Sheriff Calvin," the man said. "Um…my name is Jackson Chu. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Jason nodded, but said nothing. He simply moved out of the man's way.

  The man stepped in, appearing unperturbed at the greeting.

  Jason closed the door, then turned to the stranger. "What can I do for you?"

  "Well," Chu started, "I heard about deputy Martinez this morning, and figured I'd better come talk to you before…well, before someone decided to talk to you about me."

  "I'm sorry?" Jason asked, confused.

  "Well, I figure someone's bound to think I had something to do with it," the man said, then quickly added, "but I didn't. I swear I didn't."

  "And just why would they think that?" Jason said, suspicious. People didn't normally approach law enforcement out of the blue to announce they didn't do anything they weren't already suspected of.

  "Because, well…I fought for Somerton," Chu said.

  Now it makes sense, Jason thought. The battles between Somerton and New Eden hadn't been pretty. Even though Somerton was now part of the Tennessee Valley Alliance, some in New Eden held a grudge against Somerton people that hadn't been part of the resistance.

  "And you figure someone's going to finger you for Hector's murder?" Jason asked.

  Chu nodded. "Yes, sir. The truth was, I introduced myself to Deputy Martinez when I first moved here. I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings."

  "When was that?"

  "About two years ago."

  "Okay, how long after the Battle of the Pass?" Jason asked.

  "Six weeks."

  Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That soon?"

  Chu nodded. "Yes, sir. We'd lost. Folks in Somerton had seen me in uniform, so I didn't think it was in my best interest to stick around. You guys seemed like you had a nice place here, so…"

  "It was nicer before you and your buddies blew it all to hell and back," Jason said, the bitterness creeping into his voice.

  "I'm sure. I'm not going to make excuses for any of it. I followed orders—well, orders that didn't involve…doing things to women—but that don't erase any of it."

  Jason took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm just-"

  "I know why you feel the way you do. Heard it from Deputy Martinez a while back. Can't say I blame you in the least."

  Jason nodded. "So, where were you last night?"

  "I was at Tabby's until about midnight, then headed home."

  "Can anyone back that up?"

  Chu shook his head. "Not after Tabby's. I live alone."

  "Figures," Jason muttered.

  "I get it, Sheriff. You don't like me
because of who I fought for during the war. I fought for my home. We were wrong, but I didn't realize that. We got fed a line of bullshit about all these atrocities you guys were committing, so how about you cut me a little slack?" Chu growled.

  "Of course. You didn't have a damn clue about how people were being convicted of bullshit crimes and then forced into slavery. What's the weather like with your head stuck in the sand?" Jason fired back, his voice rising.

  "No, we knew. They were criminals. Most of them, anyways. Some of those people you freed? They were murderers and rapists. Just like that, they were out and able to prey on innocent people, so why don't you get off your high horse and recognize the blood on your hands."

  Jason smiled malevolently. "Oh, I've got plenty of blood on my hands. The thing is, your buddies killing my wife and blowing up my house went a long damn way in making me really okay with that."

  Chu inhaled deeply. "I'm not going to say I know how you feel. I don't. But I do understand that you hated Somerton and everyone who fought for her. I didn't mean to make excuses or anything, alright? I just came here to let you know who I am and who I served, just so it didn't come as any surprises later."

  Jason studied the man for a moment, then said, "If you even think about leaving town, I'll find you."

  Chu nodded. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, and then turned to walk toward the door.

  "Seriously, why did you come here of all places? There are a hell of a lot of nice towns you could have gone to without the baggage."

  Chu looked back. "Honestly?"

  Jason bobbed his head in a single nod.

  "You."

  Jason's right eyebrow shot up in question.

  "The Battle of the Pass. Conklin was starting to fall apart, and you were cracking jokes at a numerically superior force. Cool as they came."

  Shrugging, Jason said, "What does that have to do with anything?"