by D. C. Gomez
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Other Books by D. C. Gomez
Freebie
Dedication
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Freebie
Connect with D. C. online:
Acknowledgments
About D. C. Gomez
Forbidden
War
By D. C. Gomez
Copyright © D. C. Gomez (2019)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-7321369-3-9
Published by Gomez Expeditions
Request to publish work from this book should be sent to:
[email protected]
Other Books by D. C. Gomez
Death’s Intern- Book 1 in the Intern Diaries Series
Plague Unleashed- Book 2 in the Intern Diaries Series
Click here to get started: https://bit.ly/2CfJpm7
For my parents, Jose and Altagracia.
Thank you for believing in me and not letting me stop.
I love you both so much.
“Eugene, you really know how to show a girl a good time,” I told Eugene as I followed him down the old path.
“Oh come on Isis! What better way to spend a Saturday night than collecting specimens.” I was sure Eugene was trying to be charming, but considering we were crawling around a cemetery at night in the middle of Texarkana, his charms weren’t working for him.
“Do you know how suspicious we look wandering around here four days before Halloween?” I asked him softly as I looked around the place.
“Oh Isis, this part of town is deserted on the weekends. Besides, of all people, you should be used to cemeteries,” Eugene told me without looking my way. “Remember, you work for Death.”
“Eugene, I see dead people. That doesn’t mean I hang out in cemeteries during my free time,” I said.
Eugene was right about one thing: I did work for Death. I was Death’s Intern in North America. Normally, that statement made most people panic. We terrified the poor souls who knew about us. We did have a terrible reputation, after all. Especially me. Death’s Interns had a reputation of being a menace to society. Honestly, it wasn’t our fault. For some strange reason, trouble had a way of finding us. For those who were blessed with not knowing about the supernatural world, they still believed Death came to take their lives, and that just wasn’t the way it worked.
The truth was completely different than what most people believed. Death was in the business of transporting souls to their final destination. Depending on the individual’s beliefs of their after-life, Death would deliver them there. In other words, Death was the UPS for souls. Anything that interfered in the delivery of the souls was the Intern’s job to find and fix.
Death was unique, appearing to each person according to their own belief. For some people, Death appeared in the shape of a monster or their worst nightmares. Others saw Death as a long-lost friend or relative who came to guide them to their next journey. For me, Death was always a tall, beautiful lady with long, silky brown hair who dressed impeccably. She often resembled my dead mother.
I always wondered which one I resembled the most, my mom or my dad. I was five feet nine inches, with long black hair and a mocha complexion. In the twin cities of Texarkana, I was considered exotic to the point of attractive. Unfortunately, my parents had named me Isis Black. In the age of terrorism, my name was a constant topic of painful discussions and explanations. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t consider a nickname. It wasn’t like people ever remembered the Egyptian goddess when the name Isis was brought up.
“Isis!” I heard Eugene say my name. I didn’t know how, but he whispered and yelled at the same time. “Are you listening to me?”
Oops, I guessed I tuned him out for a while.
“Sorry. I was thinking,” I said, looking around the area. We were at the Sacred Heart Cemetery, located on Texas Boulevard across from the T-Line station. And I still didn’t understand why. “Tell me again why we are roaming around this cemetery at night.”
“Easy. Because we would probably get arrested for poking around the cemetery during the day,” Eugene told me, planting his feet in a wide stance as he folded his arms over his chest. A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth.
“Thanks Mr. Smarty-Pants. Now, think you can explain the cemetery part?” I replied as I waved my arms around to emphasize the setting.
“You have a lot of questions today,” Eugene told me with a frown.
“Yes, I do, but normally you aren’t this shady with your information. Stop changing the subject and spill it, or I’m not moving.” I put my hands on my hips and stopped walking.
Eugene wouldn’t meet my eyes, instead his gaze drifted everywhere but to me. I had to admit he looked extremely cute when he was nervous. He was a very attractive black man in his early twenties. He looked like a young Will Smith. I was talking about the Will Smith in Independence Day.
“Stop pressuring me, Isis. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
I raised my eyebrows. If Eugene was keeping secrets, it could only be for one person.
“The Mistress said this was a classified mission,” Eugene confessed in a whisper.
I knew it. The only one Eugene was this loyal to was his Horseman Pestilence. While I was Death’s Intern, Eugene was the rookie Intern for Pestilence. Pestilence was also Death’s sister, and one nasty lady. The sisters were polar opposites. While Death was warm and motherly, Pestilence was Queen B. Pestilence even made her ten Interns call her Mistress. She didn’t bother learning their names. They all went by numbers, which was completely insane. The poor guys worked and lived underground in a state-of-the-art lab. It was a good thing they were chemists and enjoyed their living conditions. Because if it was me living there, I’d be terrified.
Constantine, the five-thousand-year-old talking cat that served as the guardian and trainer for all of Death’s Interns, explained how all the Horsemen had interns. We all had different purposes and modes of operations. Normally, Interns did not interact with each other. According to Constantine, that piece of information—and so much more—could be found in my Intern manual. Who read manuals anyways? I was pretty sure my manual was MIA—missing in action and not coming back. To Constantine’s pain, I never read it. It wasn’t on purpose. It just didn’t look that important since it was so tiny.
“Eugene, talk. We don’t need another zombie apocalypse,” I told him sternly. That was how we first met, trying to stop a zombie apocalypse that Pestilence’s poor hiring practices instigated. Afterwards, Death convinced her sis
ter to keep the partnership, and now we get to spend every weekend with Eugene.
“Fine, just don’t tell Constantine.” Eugene looked around like he was expecting Pestilence to appear. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to bring back these little white flowers that are only grown by gnomes. Pestilence is researching a new strand of the whooping cough.”
“What gnomes?” I asked as my gaze roamed the area. What was he talking about?
“Seriously, Isis. That’s what you are concerned about?” Eugene pressed his lips together.
“Your entire team is in the business of killing humanity,” I told Eugene. “Why should I be shocked that you’re developing a new strand of some deadly virus? That is standard procedure for you. But the gnome thing, that’s new.”
“You got a point there,” he agreed. “According to the mistress, now that Texarkana was a Haven, gnomes will be moving in everywhere.” Eugene looked at me like that made any sense.
“Okay, Einstein, slow it down. What’s a Haven?” I sucked today. I could barely follow this conversation, and I definitely wasn’t understanding it.
“You really need to read your manual,” Eugene told me as he crossed his arms.
“Don’t you start with that,” I replied in a firm tone. I knew the only reason he read his manual was because Pestilence had a mandatory test on it. I prayed Constantine never heard about that. “Just tell me, please. I really don’t want to ask Constantine.” And I didn’t. He was known for instilling fear in the hearts of everyone.
“That would be a painful lecture.” Eugene gave me a soft look. “Havens are a sanctuary for the supernatural communities. They are places where every creature is protected and treated fairly. In North America, Texarkana—both the Texas and Arkansas side—and even a few of its surrounding communities are the new Haven.”
“Why? Of all the places to have a sanctuary, why here?” I wanted to know who made that decision. Why wouldn’t they pick San Diego or Cancun since those are tropical areas, larger cities, and have a lot more to offer? It made no sense to me.
“I don’t know. Why did you pick Texarkana to move to?” Eugene asked me.
“What does one thing have to do with the other?” I wasn’t in the mood for reminiscing on how I landed in Texarkana running away from my past. The funny thing was, my past came knocking at my door anyway, only in the shape of Death.
“Everything.” Eugene rubbed at his sleeves. “Havens are the territory of Death. The locations are based on the places where the Interns live. Which means, Isis, you now are the town sheriff.”
“Sheriff!” I yelled, and the sound echoed through the cemetery. I couldn’t help it. I did not like the sound of that.
“Unfortunately, you are responsible for keeping everyone safe and enforcing the law.” Eugene looked at the ground when he spoke. “The good news is, everyone knows the reputations of the sheriffs so everyone behaves.” I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but it wasn’t working.
“Eugene, what are the punishments for crimes committed in Haven?” I asked as a sick feeling tossed back and forth in my stomach.
“The usual, I guess.” He shrugged. “Banishment, beatings, and even death to all violators.”
“Great,” I mumbled, my shoulders slumping and my whole face falling. I didn’t have the stomach to kill anyone. “I’m not sure why we have intern rules if I have to violate them to do the job.”
As Death’s Interns, we had five simple rules we had to follow. Luckily, I could recite the rules in my head. One: You couldn’t tell anyone you worked for Death. Two: You couldn’t kill anyone unless it was self-defense. Three: You couldn’t contact Death unless you were actually dying. Four: Being Death’s Intern was your primary job and other jobs couldn’t interfere with it. Five: Any romantic relationship couldn’t get in the way of the job.
“Eugene, why is this happening now? I have been an Intern for over a year,” I asked him, hoping there had been a mistake.
“What I gathered from Fifty, because of the short life of Death’s Interns, Havens can only be established after your one-year anniversary,” Eugene explained. “So, congratulations, you made it to Haven status.” Eugene gave me two thumbs up when he finished.
I blinked at him, not nearly as excited as he was. “Thanks. We can celebrate later. For now, let’s get out of here.” I had information overload and needed time to process it.
“Great. Look for a small white flower. They grow near the headstones,” Eugene said as he leaned down, almost crawling over the tombs.
As I watched Eugene, something caught my eye. I glanced to the left, sure I’d seen something moving, but there was nothing there. Maybe it was just a branch from that big tree in the back. But then the whole tree moved, and I knew it hadn’t been my imagination.
“Oh God. Eugene, the trees are moving!” I tried to whisper, but it came out as a squeal.
“What?” Eugene turned around to stare at me. “Trees moving? What are you talking about?” he asked, the words rushing out of him in confusion.
I pointed in the direction of the nine-foot-tall tree coming at us.
“Isis, that’s not a tree,” Eugene said, his voice way higher than normal. “That’s a troll, and he is coming for us. Run.” Eugene took off, grabbing my hand and dragging me along.
“Eugene, let go of my hand. We need to split up.” I had never seen a troll before, but I knew survival tactics. “He can’t chase us both. That will give us a chance to knock him out.” After several instances of people trying to beat me up, I was a bit paranoid. I never left the house without taking certain precautions. Thanks to Eugene, I now carried a paintball gun, which he had created a special formula for the paintballs. They knocked people out without killing them.
“Unless you have a fifty-pound barrel, you don’t have enough.” I looked over my shoulder and realized Eugene was right. That thing was huge.
“Whatever. We are trying this. You go left, I’ll head right,” I told Eugene as I pulled away. He didn’t look happy, but he moved with a purpose. Eugene looked like one of those people you see at the mall powerwalking.
I, on the other hand, took off at a full sprint. At the beginning, I was doing great, weaving through the tombs and moving quickly, until I heard Eugene scream. I looked back and somehow managed to slip on some grass, landing flat on my butt. I didn’t have time to nurse my pride, not when I stared into the eyes of two very strange creatures, a male and a female. They looked like ten-inch dolls that were mixed with flowers. They had petals coming out of their heads like little hats, and branches sticking out of their bodies in different places.
“What are you?” I asked the two little creatures as I reached to touch them. They looked so cute and delicate.
“Oh no, she can see us. Get Godzilla to squish her,” the male said.
“I need to ask Constantine if our insurance covers being squished by a troll.” I giggled like a little girl. Surely, I must have a concussion if I was giggling.
“She said ‘Constantine?’” the female said as she sprayed me with sparkling dust. “We killed the Intern. We are dead.”
“It might be a different Constantine,” the male told her.
“Do you know another five-thousand-year-old talking cat?” I asked them as my head started spinning.
“Oh, we are so dead,” the female repeated.
“Nobody is going to die,” I said, trying to get up, but failing. “What are you guys?”
“Oh yes, sorry,” the female said as the little couple tried to help me stand up. They had worse luck than I did. “I’m Trish and this is Trey. We are the new gnomes in town.”
“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said when I managed to sit up. “Why do I feel this way?” I asked the little gnomes.
“Sorry about that, Isis.” Trey’s voice shook when he spoke. “It’s our, you know...” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I have no clue, but I’m probably too stoned to get it.” After severa
l visits to the hospital in the Army, I knew what good narcotics felt like. Whatever this was, it was out of this world. “Is that tree-troll thing with you?” I asked the cute little couple, pointing toward the troll.
They glanced in the direction I pointed. “He is our security guy,” Trish said so softly I almost missed it.
“Great. Could you call him off before he kills my friend?” I couldn’t turn my head without feeling nauseous.
“Of course.” Trish let out a loud whistle. I couldn’t focus very well, but I did see the tree-troll retreating. “Please don’t tell Constantine.”
I giggled. That cat had everyone terrorized. “Not a problem; he will be fine.” They both took a few deep breaths. “Could you do us a favor please?” I asked, giggling again.
“Sure, anything,” Trish said, but Trey was biting his lips and looking around the place.
“Could we get some of your little white flowers?” I asked the gnomes and they looked at each other, then raised their leafy eyebrows. “My friend works for Pestilence and he needs to bring some back.”
“That crazy witch is back to her old tricks,” Trish said, shaking her head. “Sure, but only this time. This stuff is dangerous.”
“Thank you so much. You two are so cute,” I said as I leaned my head against a headstone near me. The world started spinning around me.
“She is so cute and so polite. I hope she lasts.” I heard Trish talking, but could hardly focus on her.
As soon as my eyes closed, everything went dark.
“Isis. Isis, wake up!” Eugene screamed in my ears as he nearly shook me to death.
“I’m awake. I’m awake. Stop that,” I mumbled to Eugene. My head was still spinning, but not as much. Still, I just wanted to sleep, but I forced my eyes open slowly. I hoped I wasn’t drooling.
“Oh, thank God. You scared me to death.” Eugene hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe.
“Sorry, just don’t strangle me now,” I said, and Eugene released his tight hold.
“We need to get you out of here now,” Eugene said, pulling me up.
