The Forgotten Kings (The Scourge Book 4) Read online

  “I heard.”

  Really not much of a conversationalist, thought Joel. He jogged forward and opened the door, holding it open as Dalton squeezed himself and his kill through the gap.

  Joel had noticed and sensed the big guy's pulse had remained fairly steady from the times he had seen him walking around the prison. It was obvious this wasn’t the first time he had seen the inside of one.

  Once they were walking the corridors, the buzzing of the myriad of hybrids crept back into Joel’s consciousness and he reached into his pocket for the small flask of alcohol.

  Dalton turned a corner and started to walk in the opposite direction.

  “Tell Amos and the others to be ready by sun up,” shouted Joel.

  “Yup.”

  *****

  Joel sat in a light gray pickup, his hands on the wheel and the engine idling.

  The sun was still to make an appearance, but the sky to the east was already being tinged with lighter shades of blue while ice sat on the fringes of the windscreen.

  To his left sat Anna, who was rubbing her hands together to keep warm, and in the rear seats, Donnie, Shannon, and a new hybrid called Jarod. He was a tall man, maybe early thirties, who hadn’t uttered more than two words since Joel set eyes on him.

  “How much longer?” said Shannon, her finger picking away at dry skin on her thumb. They had already been waiting ten minutes.

  Joel clicked on his radio. “How’s everything looking? We ready to go? Over.”

  After a slight pause, Carla’s voice came from the speaker. “We’re ready, moving out now. Over.”

  Engine noises ahead gained in volume, and the orange rear lights of a motorhome in front of them dulled as the large vehicle bumped forward over the uneven ground.

  “Finally,” said Shannon. “That’s the last time I want to see a prison.”

  “Are you hungry? Anyone need a drink?” said Anna over her shoulder to those behind.

  “I’m fine,” said Shannon.

  The two men looked out of their respective side windows.

  Joel knew the reason why Donnie was quiet. They had to head to the possible human camps as quickly as their vehicles would carry them. There was no time to head due south to the Bradley’s farm. Carla informed the young man that they might come within radio range after a few hundred miles, and the convoy would stop to allow him a chance to make contact, but she secretly knew the chances of that were slim.

  Twelve vehicles, five for Carla’s group and seven for Joel’s, drove out onto the shadow-laden road, which led east to the town.

  “So we all stay together, until… well when?” said Kizzy in the back of a brown sedan that Dalton was driving.

  “We’re driving with them until they reach their camp. We see what’s going on there, then we keep on going down to Alabama,” said Amos in the passenger's seat.

  A young human man named David looked anxiously at the equally aged woman next to him. He was sure she had six fingers on both hands but ignored the strange sight and instead looked out the window at the grassland and canals just becoming visible in the morning light.

  Amos couldn’t help but smile. He sensed the guy’s fear at Kizzy and her disappointment that he chose to sit in the front. He also knew that she knew he could read her mind, so wasn’t a hundred percent sure she wasn’t forcing strange thoughts into her head just to throw him off.

  He smiled again, but then remembered his run-in with Holland some hours earlier. The thuggish man had ordered him to go with him. Ordered! He took a deep breath on remembering. Up until that point Amos had resisted using his abilities again to affect the emotions of others, but there was no way he was going to be dragged across the country doing dirty work for Holland, so when he was alone with him, he sent a concentrated burst of regret and sympathy outwards, turning the older man into the most grateful individual Amos had ever seen. It took Amos fifteen minutes to revert Holland back to his former self, so powerful was the effect, and by the time his henchmen had returned, the crime boss wanted Amos nowhere near his group that was about to leave.

  In the rearmost of the two motorhomes, Evan sat at a small pullout table, looking at his grandfather whose eyes were closed. When given a choice he had been surprised the older man had chosen not to go with Joel and his group. Instead, he chose the soldiers. People he hardly knew… but they were human. Maybe that was it? There was something going on with his grandfather, something Bill hadn’t told him, he was sure of it.

  Up front Marina drove, watching the first motorhome in front of her carefully. She was feeling tired but was glad to be free of the oppressive walls where she almost died. In fact, Anna told her she did die, a few times, but each time a combination of keeping her heart going and her hybrid healing brought her back from the brink.

  Jess would have been alone…

  She shook the thought from her mind. She was alive. Everyone was alive. The future hasn’t been written yet. She reached down with her right hand and touched the top of Jasper’s head. For the first few weeks the young boy had been part of their group, he hated being touched. She wondered if it had anything to do with Copeland. But since then, slowly but surely Jasper stopped reacting when Marina scrunched his hair or tapped his nose. To her right, Jess slept soundly on Mary’s lap, who was also snoozing. Somehow she had gained extra members to her family, now she just needed to work out how to keep them all alive.

  At the head of the convoy, which was now weaving through the streets of the destroyed town, Carla drove the APC. The leviathan of a vehicle which could probably drive through a wall. This was the second of the SWAT trucks that had taken a beating, but unlike the one Carla was in, came out of the ordeal mechanically intact. The outside was a patchwork of metal plates though, taken from its twin.

  The convoy headed along fairly straight roads which cut through fields of lush green grass, small bushes, and the occasional group of trees. All laid out on a flat plane, with hardly any hills to disturb the view for miles. After a few minutes of driving, the dark splotches of vamp remains which tarnished the landscape vanished.

  Max noticed the scene becoming clear of the black stains and wrote some numbers into his small notebook.

  After half an hour they passed through a small town which sat on the border. The buildings were standing, unlike Westlands, but a number of trees and street lights were felled betraying the fact that a lot of vamps passed through, or rather over the town.

  As the sun struggled to make an impression on the gray sky, they moved through agricultural land. Fields that should have long since been reaped and plowed stood as testament that since the Scourge took hold, nature was still doing what it always did. It was only for humans that time had stopped.

  After almost two hours the trail of vehicles moved alongside a large town.

  In the distance, five- and six-story buildings in a ‘downtown’ area, loomed over suburban streets and homes which stretched all the way back to the highway.

  Joel could hear them. He guessed a few hundred vamps, sleeping in forgotten holes and was glad when the convoy had moved back into expanses of green.

  Steadily heading south and east, small and large towns came and went, until some miles out from Minneapolis the rear lights on the motorhome in front brightened, and he had to slow then stop.

  “What’s going on? Over,” he said into his radio.

  “Looks like one of our trucks has got a problem,” said Carla.

  They were stopped on a four-lane highway, a forest to their right, and a collection of stores on the top of an embankment to their left. Ahead, the highway rose slightly, not allowing them a view of more than a mile.

  “What’s going on? Why we stopping?” said a sleepy Shannon from the rear seats. Donnie’s head was on her shoulder. He and the hybrid next to him were both deep in sleep.

  Joel recognized the type of slumber and felt it pulling him toward it. “A problem with one of the vehicles.”

  She grumbled something, which even he with his enhanced hearing couldn’t make out, then laid her head back and closed her eyes.

  Least most of the hybrids are asleep, he thought. He was running low on energy and couldn’t face the idea of running through streets and parking lots trying to pull crazed hungry hybrids back to their vehicles.

  He raised the radio again. “So what’s the plan? Over.”

  “Marco is looking at the engine… it’s not looking promising. Over.”

  “Can we fit those people into other vehicles? Over.” Joel already knew the answer. The trucks and cars were already full to overflowing.

  “Doubt it. Over.”

  Joel looked at the parking lot that surrounded the row of stores. It looked empty. “We’ll have to find another vehicle and bring it—” In the mirror, he saw Donnie sitting up and sniffing the air. “What is it?” Joel said to the reflection.

  “W… wolves… I mean… my kind… and there’s more than one… a lot more,” the words came from Donnie’s mouth tinged with excitement.

  “What direction?” said Joel, also noticing Dalton getting out of the sedan behind.

  Donnie looked to their right. “Beyond the trees.”

  More were now standing outside their vehicles, most looking towards the trunks, pine needles, and the dark recesses in-between.

  Joel pushed the door open and got out, bringing his M4 with him. Donnie stood on the opposite side of the pickup. “How long?” said Joel.

  “Seconds,” said Dalton, moving closer.

  Carla ran up to them. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “Werewolves coming from the—”

  Snapping of branches came from the forest, and some birds took to the skies.

  “Defensive positions!” Carla shouted back to the soldiers, hoping e
veryone else would do the same. Most of the hybrids were still sleeping, and those that were awake were hiding inside their vehicles.

  Most don’t even realize their own strength, thought Joel.

  Keller, Bishop, Marco, and the other soldiers knelt and leaned their weapons on the trucks and pickups, all pointed towards the trees. Joel did the same, but Donnie and Dalton walked forward, away from the vehicles.

  “Hey, get back here!” shouted Carla.

  The two men, one towering over the other, ignored the request and continued their slow movement to the edge of the highway.

  The creaking of bark and branch had stopped, but Joel and the other hybrids could see beyond the shadows to the humanoid forms lurking within the forest.

  “We ain’t got no beef with you!” shouted Dalton towards the woods.

  A figure, almost as tall as Dalton moved within the gloom, shrinking in size, until a man, maybe late twenties, bare-chested with a few tattoos, walked clear of the tree line.

  He walked a few more feet across the overgrown weeds and stopped, looking the convoy up and down. Joel could also see his nostrils flaring.

  “Why you with them?” he shouted at Dalton, nodding to the others, hunched down, pointing weapons at him.

  “We together.”

  The bearded man scoffed and walked down the bank until he was a few yards from Dalton. “They ain’t your kind. I’m your kind. Why don’t you leave them.” He looked at Donnie. “And you boy.”

  Donnie walked forward until he was alongside Dalton. “Why don’t you take another step forward and you’ll see how much of a boy I am…”

  The man sneered. More crunching came from the trees behind and out walked an older man with a gray-black beard. He wore a faded denim jacket with a pistol in a holster around his waist. He was smiling and waving his hand as he approached.

  “Hey… my son, Dominic, didn’t mean to offend anyone.”

  Dominic looked to one side frowning.

  The man offered his hand to Dalton, who briefly shook it. “I’m Lucas. You folks having mechanical issues?”

  Joel could still see others waiting in the shadows, but he now realized they were there out of fear, not to threaten. He lowered his rifle and walked to the small group standing at the edge of the highway.

  “I’m Joel.” He shook Lucas’s hand. “Yeah, one of our pickups has got an engine problem. You know anywhere near here where we might find another vehicle?”

  Carla and her soldiers still kept their weapons trained on the two new men.

  Lucas looked at them. “You think you can not point those M4s at me and my son?”

  “You’re werewolves…” said Joel to him.

  Lucas looked back to Joel. “And you’re hybrids.”

  For a moment, Joel was surprised this random man knew of hybrids. “Many of us, but some humans as well.” Joel looked back at Carla. “You can lower your weapons.”

  “I’ll get right on that when his friends come out of the trees,” she shouted back.

  “Geri, Wendell, Nick, why don’t you come on out.”

  A woman, with long flowing brown hair, in her early forties appeared, alongside two men of similar height, one heavy set in his late thirties with short cropped black curly hair, and the other early thirties with short brown hair swept across his forehead.

  The woman had a rifle across her back.

  Carla lowered her rifle. Her soldiers did the same.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Copeland stood in the living room part of his apartment. A square sunken area, covered in a handmade Persian rug, surrounded by authentic Grecian statues which themselves were bordered by pillars.

  In front of him stood Galen and Adrian. Both individuals looked like they would rather be somewhere else.

  “Is there something wrong?” Copeland said to both of them.

  “No, no…” said Adrian.

  “How can we help you, sir?” said Galen.

  “Sir? You call them sire.”

  Galen’s placid expression threatened to break until calm was restored. “You are a head of the corporation, I am used to calling you sir. If you wish for me to call you—”

  Copeland turned away. “Sir is fine. Where are we with the sweep of the remaining camps?”

  “Ms. Mathews is in the field. She tells me hers and the other teams are heading east and only have a few more camps left to intern,” said Galen.

  Copeland looked at the man whose skin looked like it belonged on an even older person. He paused for a moment, looking into his eyes. “Good. The kings will be pleased with this progress. You can leave now.”

  Galen and Adrian started to walk away.

  “Adrian, you will stay.”

  Adrian froze as if he had just been caught for a crime, and slowly turned.

  Galen kept on walking.

  Copeland waited for the elevator door to close before approaching his head of science. He looked down at the far shorter man and smelt his fear. That was why Adrian was still here and Galen was not. Never trust a man who doesn’t fear you, Copeland always thought.

  “What… what I… I mean how—”

  Copeland placed his hand on Adrian’s shoulder. For an instant, he thought about ripping his head from his shoulders but stopped the instinct from growing. “I have always respected you, Adrian.”

  Both of them knew that to be a lie.

  Copeland removed his hand and turned, walking a few steps away. “That is why I am trusting you with this special mission.”

  “Yes?”

  “The tablets. We know one is with the FBI agent. The others… as you know, the rumors are they were scurried away by the Navy and were hidden on an island.” Copeland turned back to Adrian. “If I wanted you to find them. All of the tablets. What would you need to accomplish that task?”

  “Well, we have already been searching for them, sir, and we hoped that after the siege on the prison, we would have that particular tablet, but—”

  Copeland was approaching Adrian again, and the scientist was trying not to take a step back.

  “What do you need to find them? What resources beyond what you already have?”

  Adrian looked away in thought. “Umm… Well, if we took some of our people away from the internment camps and focused the Alkrons on finding Mr. Garret, and also used the naval vessels we have confiscated, then it would certainly increase the chances of finding the tablets?”

  “Yes. That is good. The kings will be pleased.”

  A spontaneous smile broke out across Adrian’s face, which he quickly removed on seeing Copeland’s response.

  “I want specialist teams set up whose sole purpose is to find the tablets. And they report only to you, and you to me. Do you understand?”

  “Umm… should I not tell Iona or Galen?”

  “No. They have enough to concern themselves with. I want new teams looking for the tablets within the hour, and a report by midnight of progress. Is that clear?”

  “Yes… sir.”

  Copeland moved away into the gloom, and then was gone completely, lost in the shadows of the large desolate space that was his apartment.

  Adrian turned and almost jogged back to the exit. With each step, his heart rate slowing.

  *****

  Joel drove the pickup along sedate suburban streets with expensive looking homes that belonged within the pages of a newsstand magazine. Behind him, Carla was driving another pickup. He could almost see the well-dressed children playing on the manicured lawns, trying to avoid the sprinklers which would have rotated twenty-four seven.

  Except there were none. These dollhouses were devoid of human life, replaced with something else. Something that was born from the Scourge virus.

  Lucas sat in the passenger's seat, while Dominic sat next to Shannon and Donnie in the rear.

  “When we arrived here, all these places were empty,” said Lucas.

  Joel wanted to believe him.

  “So our clan moved in.”

  “Yeah, why not, right?” said Dominic. He smiled at Shannon who turned away, placing her hand on Donnie’s.

  “Take the next right,” said Lucas.

  “How many are there of you?” said Joel.

  “Eighteen. Five or so families and others. We send out a few search parties each month to find others like us. That’s how we knew you were coming our way. Boyd spotted you on the highway some miles north. He heard you first, then saw the heat coming off your vehicles. He raced back here, and we moved alongside the road tracking you for a bit until you had that issue. Once you stopped, we could tell you had a few of ours onboard.”