Read Days Of Perdition: Voodoo Plague Book 6 Online
Authors: Dirk Patton
Days Of Perdition: Voodoo Plague Book 6
Days Of Perdition
Voodoo Plague Book 6
DIRK PATTON
Text Copyright © 2015
by Dirk Patton
Copyright © 2015 by
Dirk Patton
All Rights Reserved
This book or any
portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the copyright holder
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2015
ISBN-13:
978-1507585887
ISBN-10:
1507585888
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, businesses, brands, places, events and incidents are either
the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely
coincidental.
Thank you for purchasing Days Of Perdition, Book 6 in the
Voodoo Plague series. If you haven’t read the first five books you need to
stop reading now and pick them up, otherwise you will be lost as this book is
intended to continue the story in a serialized format. I intentionally did nothing
to explain comments and events that reference book 1 through 5. Regardless,
you have my heartfelt thanks for reading my work and I hope you’re enjoying the
adventure as much as I am. As always, a good review on Amazon is greatly
appreciated and the best way to ensure more books are published.
Always on the run
A destiny
It’s the rising sun
I was born
A shotgun in my hands
Behind the gun
I'll make my final stand
Bad Company - Five Finger Death Punch
Katie Chase cursed, jamming the transmission of her
husband’s truck into reverse. As usual when she drove the mammoth beast he
loved so much, she had pulled too far into the garage and slightly angled. She
missed her little Mercedes, but John had left for Atlanta on a business trip
early that morning and had driven her car because his truck was too tall to fit
in the parking garage at the airport. She normally drove him when he flew so
she didn’t have to give up her car, plus she liked that last goodbye kiss at
the curb, but today she’d had a full schedule and no time for the more than hour
long round trip.
Finally getting into the right spot, Katie turned off the
rumbling engine, grabbed her purse and yoga matt and jumped down from the
driver’s seat. She had just finished an intense hour and a half yoga session
followed by coffee with a friend and was running behind schedule. They’d
dawdled too long. She still had to run five miles then spend half an hour
kicking and punching the combat dummy set up on the far side of the garage.
The treadmill was as boring as ever, but the time passed
quickly with The Real Housewives of New Jersey playing on the TV. Taking a
short break, Katie rehydrated then threw herself into attacking the man sized
BOB or Body Opponent Bag. It was hot in the garage and by the end of her half
hour workout she was dripping with sweat. Toweling off, she grabbed more Coconut
water, shivered under the air conditioning in the house and headed for the back
yard.
Stepping out, the heat hit her like a physical presence. It
was summertime in Arizona. She glanced at the thermometer. 113. It was only
1:30 in the afternoon, the hottest time of day still four hours away.
Finishing her drink, Katie sat down on the shaded patio and checked the
calendar on her phone. John’s flight would be landing within half an hour.
He always texted to let her know he’d landed safely.
Wanting to be ready to text him right back, she peeled off all of her sweat
soaked clothes and dove nude into the sparkling blue pool. Half an hour later,
refreshed from her swim, Katie grabbed her phone when it dinged to indicate
she’d received a text message.
“
In ATL. Cops everywhere. Odd. Love U!
” It was
from John. Katie smiled and texted back, then gathered up her clothes and
headed inside.
Stepping out of the shower half an hour later, she dried off
and paused to examine her body in a full-length mirror. Turning side to side
she was pleased with what she saw and knew her husband certainly was. Despite
years of marriage, John still acted like a teenager, always trying to sneak a
peek and the damn man had the fastest hands she’d ever seen. She missed him
already, and with a smile pulled on a lightweight sundress. She left her long,
thick hair wet, knowing the Arizona summer air would suck the water out of it
in no time.
The remainder of the afternoon went by quickly. Katie went
and had her nails done, came home and paid a few bills, shopped online for a
bit, then prepared a lite dinner for herself. At 6:00 PM she gave up on
waiting for John to call. It was 9:00 PM in Atlanta and she was surprised but
not concerned that she hadn’t heard anything from him. She dialed his number,
but the call went immediately to his voice mail. Hanging up without leaving a
message she paused, considering the idea she’d just had. With a smile she ran
into the closet, let the dress drop to the floor around her feet and once she
had the pose she liked, snapped a pic of her naked body reflecting in the
mirror. A moment later she texted the image to her husband, pulled the dress
back on and returned to the living room.
With a sigh, Katie turned the TV on and clicked through
channels until she found something to watch. It wasn’t football and no one was
shooting anyone, so she knew John would hate it. She tried his number a couple
more times, but now she couldn’t even get his voicemail. The call just failed
each time.
Shortly after 8:30 she groaned when the show she was
watching was interrupted. A “Breaking News” banner appeared diagonally across
the screen and a deep male voice intoned that the network was interrupting the
normally scheduled program with an urgent newsbreak.
Five minutes after a harried news anchor began describing
the nuclear detonations in New York, DC and LA, she snatched up her phone and
tried to call John again. Call failed. She tried twice more with the same
results, finally giving up and nearly flinging the phone across the room in
frustration.
Katie sat glued to the TV, wanting more information than
what the talking head kept repeating. Intellectually she knew the network
didn’t have any additional news to share, but emotionally she was furious that
all she really knew was that nuclear bombs had been set off in three major
American cities.
“Stupid!” She said to herself when she remembered the
satellite phone John kept for emergencies.
Jumping to her feet she dashed into his office to the gun safe
that took up half of one wall. She came to a stop when she looked at the
keypad, unable to remember the combination. Thinking for a minute she ran back
to the sofa where’d she left her iPhone and snatched it up. John had made her
put the combination in the Notes app on the phone, despite her assurances that
she’d remember the combination and her doubts that she’d ever need to open the
safe on her own.
Thankful that he had insisted, she punched in the number,
the locking bolt clicking loudly when it released. Spinning the wheel she
tugged the heavy door open and looked inside. A row of four assault rifles was
centered, three shotguns to the left and two large caliber bolt action rifles
with long distance scopes to the right. Two shelves held a variety of handguns.
Below that on the floor of the safe were neatly arranged cases of ammunition
and another shelf with stacks of loaded magazines.
The inside of the door had several pockets and a thin, black
cord disappeared out of one of these into the back of the safe where it was
plugged in to an internal electrical outlet. Pulling open the Velcro cover,
Katie retrieved a small satellite phone and hit the power button. While she
waited for it to power up her eyes ran over the weapons.
She may have settled into a suburban lifestyle, appearing to
be nothing more than a spoiled housewife whose biggest concerns were working
out and shopping, but Katie was hardly what she appeared. Nearly fifteen years
as a case officer for the CIA had hardened and sharpened her. That may have
been in her past, but once your eyes are opened the way that job had opened
hers, you can never look at the world the same way again.
Reaching into the safe, Katie grabbed one of John’s shotguns
and quickly fed seven shells of buckshot into it. Carrying the weapon in both
hands, she ran to the master bedroom and after laying it on the foot of the bed
she pulled the dress over her head and tossed it onto the floor. She quickly pulled
clothes out of a drawer, dressing in a pair of heavy cargo pants and a tank top
with a black T-shirt over it. Dashing into the bathroom she took a moment to
put her hair up in a ponytail then ran into her closet.
In the back of the closet, behind boxes full of stylish
high-heeled shoes, she found what she was looking for. A pair of desert tan
combat boots that John had given her a couple of birthdays ago. She had been
less than enthralled with the gift, but he’d made up for it by taking her dress
shopping after dinner at her favorite restaurant.
She’d only worn the boots when she’d gone out into the
desert with him, but they were sturdy, supportive and had steel caps protecting
her toes. Pulling them on, she laced them up and paused a moment to remember
the right way to tie them so they stayed tied. Dressed, she grabbed a small backpack
and ran to the bedroom where she threw in some clean underwear and a change of
clothes.
Shotgun in hand and pack over her shoulder, Katie quickly
returned to the safe. She threaded a holster and a magazine carrier onto her
belt and grabbed John’s favorite pistol. It was a large frame .45 caliber and
five loaded magazines were neatly stacked next to it. Slapping one of those
into the weapon, she racked the slide to chamber a round, set the safety on and
holstered the heavy gun. Two more loaded mags went into the carrier on her
belt, the last two tossed into her pack along with a box of fifty shotgun
shells.
Placing the pack between the door to the garage and the
front door, Katie racked the shotgun to load a round and leaned it up against
the wall. Feeling marginally more secure, she made sure the keys for the big
Ford were in her pocket before picking up the sat phone again. She had just
turned on the screen, peering at it to see if the phone had locked onto a
satellite signal when the doorbell rang.
Katie jumped and almost dropped the phone, barely
suppressing a small scream. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to calm
down. Training at the CIA’s Farm at Camp Peary in Virginia had been a long
time ago. Work in the field where keeping her thoughts, feelings and emotions
in check could mean the difference between life and death was something she had
put behind her, but by the time the bell rang a second time she had calmed her
breathing and heart rate.
John had been known to answer the door with a weapon in his
hand if they weren’t expecting visitors. Even though they lived in an upscale
community with large, iron gates restricting access, he constantly reminded her
that the gates only kept out people with good intentions. Part of her felt a
little foolish as she drew the pistol and clicked the safety off, her index
finger resting along the outside of the trigger guard.
But the practical side that had served her so well for many
years was coming out. Katie had seen firsthand how swiftly society could
disintegrate in response to a disaster, whether natural or man-made in origin.
She’d done a tour in Bosnia and a few other hotspots around the world during
her time with the Agency, and knew that neighbor could and would turn on
neighbor. Stepping to the door she looked through the spy hole, relieved when
she recognized her friends from two doors down.
Holstering the pistol, Katie unbolted and opened the door.
The older couple standing there smiled at her and she quickly ushered them in
before closing and bolting the door behind them.
“We know John’s out of town and we wanted to check on you,
dear.” Janice Wilson said, concern creasing her still beautiful face as she
looked Katie up and down.
“I’m fine,” Katie said, leading the way deeper into the
house where all of them paused to stare at the horrific images playing on the
TV. After a few minutes the husband, Mike Wilson, broke the silence.
“You look better prepared than we are,” he said, pointedly
glancing at the pistol on Katie’s hip and the shotgun resting by the front
door.
“Well, you know John.” Katie said with a forced smile. She
wasn’t one who liked to show her emotions to other people. John was
different. He was her husband, but she had no interest in this disintegrating
into a crying jag with Janice.
“Have you heard from him?” Janice asked, taking a seat on a
bar stool at the kitchen island.
“I got a text when he arrived in Atlanta this afternoon, but
nothing since. I was just going to try to get through with a satellite
phone.” She held the phone up for them to see.
While they watched, Katie checked the signal lock again,
muttering to herself when it still said ‘searching’. Walking out into the back
yard she moved out from under the roof that covered the patio and stood by the
edge of the pool, nothing between the phone and the sky above. The phone
quickly locked onto a signal and she dialed John’s number.
Her heart skipped a beat when it started ringing, but it
only rang once then she received an “all circuits are busy – please try your
call again later” message. She tried three more times with the same results,
shaking her head when Mike and Janice walked out and stood next to her on the
pool deck.
Mike looked calm, or as calm as anyone could, but Janice
appeared to be heading down the path to hysteria. Her husband circled his arm
around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her shoulder.
Suddenly Katie just wanted them to leave. She had her own worries, and didn’t
need to be burdened with anyone else’s.
“Do you have anything to drink?” Mike asked. “I think we
could all use a stiff shot and see what we can find out about what’s going on.”
Katie looked at him, considering asking them to leave, but
despite his outward demeanor she could tell that Mike was only keeping it
together for Janice’s benefit. Compassion won out and she led the way inside
and pulled a bottle of vodka out of the freezer.
