EVO Universe 1: The First (18 page)

Kenneth looked at her in disbelief that she had the audacity to come to his house on any night asking such a question, “
You
did you crazy bitch…and I hope you burn in hell for it.”

“Ken! Who is it?!” a frustrated Elizabeth raised her voice demanding to know who was at their door.

Ken shot back officially losing his patience, “Go back to bed Liz…now!”

“Still see you haven’t changed much,” Sophia sighed, “You’re still a prick.”

Ken narrowed his eyes at her as he pointed his bat at her chest nearly touching her, “The only reason I’m not beating the shit out of you till the cops get here…is because my kids are upstairs. When I slam this door in your face I will be calling them…so you best not be here before they get here, or I change my mind.”

True to his word, Kenneth backed up, and slammed the door in her face before locking it; he then turned and looked up with irritation at his nervous and equally irritated wife at the top of the steps looking down at him before heading back to his den. What he did not expect was his door smashed open causing him to jump forward and for his wife to let out a terrified scream. Ken turned around shaken with disbelief as Sophia walked through the now disheveled doorway into his home.

“What the fuck?” he stood there with eyes widened in disbelief.

Sophia casually strolled into his house and reminded him, “I thought I told you last time you and I got into it and you spoke to me that way… I’m not your wife…”

“Are you out of your damn mind bitch?!” Kenneth approached pointing the bat at her again.

She calmly snatched it out of his grip with her left hand using slide of the hand speed, “Don’t point your damn bat at me…”

Not impressed by her unbelievable speed and newfound jail muscle strength taking him by surprise, he went to grab for her, only for her to grab him by the wrist during mid-reach.

She proceeded to both bend it back while apply pressure equivalent to a mechanized vice grip forcing the larger and highly trained Marine to his knees.

Scott hollering in pain, “You’re…breaking…my…fucking wrist…”

“Sorry…still don’t know my strength yet,” returned Sophia with a girlish smile.

Kenneth watched in disbelief as Sophia proceeded to crush his Louisville Slugger into two with just her bare left hand; he was so fixated on the spectacle of power he forgot his wife watching terrified at the top of the steps.

“I’m calling the police!” she screamed.

“Go ahead Liz!” Sophia sarcastically advised not looking up at her, “While you’re at it make sure they bring the SWAT and the National Guard too!”

Sophia dropped what was left of the bat on the floor looking Ken dead in the eyes to let him know that it was really her, and that she meant business, “But I’m not leaving till you tell me who killed my husband…and where I can find them. So you decide now if you’re going to tell me…or if you want a firefight right here on your doorstep. Either one is fine with me.”

“Okay…okay…let’s talk,” Ken finally gave in, “Liz…no…no cops.”

“Ken!” she yelled in disbelief that he would actually talk to Sophia after everything that had happened.

“Mommy!” a frighten child cried; one of the Scotts’ two children awaken from the commotion going on in the house.

“Liz! The kids…please…go see to the kids,” he begged, “And no cops…do not call the cops…Sophia and me are just going to talk.”

Upon hearing his agreement to talk to her, Sophia released Ken allowing him to get to his feet nursing his wrist.

“You’re taller then I last remembered,” he noticed giving her a quick glance over before motioning to his house entranceway, “You wanna get what’s left of my damn door?”

She watched him head into his den as she walked back to the entrance way closing the broken door; the weight of it made sure it did not swing back open, but the entire door frame would have to be replaced. She made her way to Ken’s den, and felt Elizabeth looking down at her from the steps.

She addressed her not looking up, “Nice to see you again Liz…”

She was not sure Liz would call the police despite Ken telling her not to, at this point, she did not really care; she did hope for the sake of her children and their house she would not do something stupid.

As she walked through the house, memories of bridal and baby showers started to appear before her. She also realized how many football party games Robert dragged her to, and she did not really like football. Though the mental bombardment was not as bad, she realized being the slightest bit unfocused and in a familiar place, memories would jump at her like gangbusters. Nearing the den, she did the counting game to push it down.

She walked in to see Ken placing his injured hand into an ice bucket while holding a Beretta M9 cocked and ready to fire with his left. She was worried about the wrong person doing something stupid, and she officially hated that gun. The scene did help get her focus back.

“Figured you’d do something stupid like this,” she shook her head both disgusted and disappointed.

“Who the hell are you?” Ken demanded taking the safety off the gun now.

“Thought we settled this at the door,” she glared at him, almost wishing he would pull the trigger.

“Bullshit!” he bit back, “The last time I saw Sophia Dennison she wasn’t no goddamn Amazon bitch kicking in doors, catching punches and crushing bats with her bare hand…so for the last time,” Scott officially lost his cool taking aim, “Who…the…fuck...are…you?!”

She could have just rushed him and taken the gun away, or walked right up to him while he emptied his clip on her, but that would have the police there in minutes, and she needed answers not more violence.
Slowly she walked closer to him looking Ken dead in the eyes, as she prepared to run down their history, “September 21, 1994; we were at Christian's Tailgate, Rob spotted me on campus two days before that and liked me so he came up to talk to me. You weren’t with Liz at the time; you were busy hitting on a waitress with Strawberry blonde hair and a huge rack. You and Rob had joined the Marines ROTC program together, you met Liz your second semester of college at the Kappa Gamma/Sigma Alpha Epsilon party; you both broke up at the end of that semester because she caught you cheating with Becky Olson, but then you both got back together the start of senior year.”

Scott pretended to be unimpressed by her run down; he still lowered his gun as she continued to go through their history, “And even though you and I couldn’t stand each other because I thought you were just a self-centered womanizing son of a bitch who never took life seriously. You gave one of the most beautiful speeches at our wedding, you proposed to Liz that same night. Then you almost cheated on her again with the stripper at your bachelor’s party two days before your wedding because you wanted to have Grave Digger instead of a limo at your wedding. Rob threatened to end your friendship if you did…and walked out of the bachelor party early; and then you showed up in one of your drunken stupors on our doorsteps in tears begging for forgiveness, and swore on Buster…your prize black Labrador Retriever’s life… you didn’t do it.”

As she spoke truth and secrets only the real Sophia would know, he slowly released the hammer to the gun putting on the safety, while she continued, “On April 15, 2003 when you and Rob were to be deployed for the first time I said to you, “Remember that you have a wife, and a newborn son. And that’s not just your best friend; he’s my husband, the love of my life and the father of
my
future children, so make me a promise on your worthless friggin life…”

“To make it home…safe…the both of us…” Ken finished her sentence.

“I can’t explain to you what happened to me,” she said sternly, “I don’t even know what happened to me. What I do know is I did not murder Robert. What I need to know from you right now, is what military, mercenary, or terrorist force sports a symbol of a Grim Reaper sitting on a large skull while holding a scythe in one hand and a smaller skull in its other hand.”

Her description of the symbol visibly shook Ken which made Sophia know that she came to the right person, what caused her some concern was when he almost dropped his gun trying to lean against his liquor cabinet for support...Ken wasn’t easily shaken by anything, and this shook him to the core.

“Say that again,” he asked swallowing hard.

“The night my husband your best friend was brutally murdered there were three individuals in our bedroom decked out in black like a bunch of sci-fi ninjas,” she began to go into detail, “I managed to see the symbol embossed in black on the left shoulder of one of them. Barely able to make it out with what little moonlight was in the room that night… it was of a Grim Reaper wielding a scythe and sitting on a large skull while holding a smaller skull in its palm…and I know you know damn well what I’m talking about.”

Ken took in a good amount of air before laying his gun down on the top of the cabinet. He took some of the ice out of the bucket he had his hand in dropping it into a Scotch glass. He then grabbed a bottle of Black Bush Irish Whiskey and proceeded to pour.

“Want some?” he offered her.

“This isn’t a social call Ken,” she said impatiently.

Scott ignored her taking a sip of the Black Bush, licked his lips enjoying the taste as he took another deep breath, “What I’m about to tell you.”

“Is confidential bull…” she started to say rolling her eyes.

“No…no confidential bullshit,” he cut her off; “Because there is no record of this…anywhere…it’s more of a military urban myth…bogeyman type shit.”

“What are you talking about?” she sneered not in the mood for riddles.

“The symbol you described,” Ken paused thinking of the best way to explain to her, “Belongs to the D.E.A.D.”

“The… “Dead”?” she said with a completely confused look on her face, “What some Special Ops Team with the flair for George Romero friggin movies?”

“They’re not Special Ops,” he said fighting to make her understand, “They’re not even black Ops…they’re not even fucking soldiers…they’re highly trained killers that do not exist.”

“Make some goddamn sense Ken!” Sophia finally lost her patience, “I don’t have time for the word play!”

Ken locked eyes with her again, there was part irritation and part fear written all over his face as he clutched the half drunken glass in his hand, “Jesus, you gain muscle and lose your brain locked up?! There’s no other way to explain this! These guys are said to be the fucking hell hounds of the United States government…a rumored Death Squad,” he whispered in the end thinking someone might hear him.

“Death Squad?” she repeated in disbelief.

“They’re said to kill mercilessly on command, there is no record of their origin, no “official” record of their exploits if you want to call them that,” he swallowed hard, “Who they are, who commands them, or what branch they fall under. They’re deadlier than any military unit in the known world…no one even knows what the fucking D.E.A.D stands for! I don’t even think Bush knows they exit.”

“So how do
you
know their names?” Sophia steely pressed her interrogation.

“You only saw their left side right?,” Ken motioned, “On their right side, each of them apparently have another patch with one letter that spells out the word “dead” between the four of them.”

“Several years ago in Rwanda a couple of months after the Genocide” he went on to explain, “some poor bastard from the Impuzamugambi and his regime of over three hundred strong was attacked and wiped out in one night. Their camp burnt to the ground. With his dying breath, he described the patch you just described, and was able to see the patches on their right arm. He said God had judged them for the evil they had done by sending something far more evil than the Devil himself. Guess that makes sense considering the military police found him crucified upside down, and skinned down to his ribcage so the vultures could feed on his insides.”

“He had the words “Cry out for God to end your life” carved into his forehead; they did that after they asked him if he believed in God,” Ken swallowed hard finishing his disturbing tale.

Sophia being a visual person swayed and shuddered, “How do you know all of this?”

“Like I said…unverified reports…rumors…drinking stories…if you’re in some branch of the military or a conspiracy theorist you’ve heard the stories,” his eyes went almost blank as he went into his next story, “But what solidified it for me was something on my third tour…our squad was on patrol in Ramadi. Got a tip that there were some insurgents in this small residential town…we roll on in, and from the beginning, something just wasn’t right; it was 11 AM in the morning. There wasn’t a person on the street…no kids playing or running around and dogs were whimpering and whining…we thought we were being set up for an ambush. We waited for fifteen minutes before we went knocking on the first door…got a sick feeling when no one answered, so we kicked it in…minute you walked in you could smell the stench of death and blood in the air…went into the bedrooms and there they were…family of five…their throats slit from ear to ear…”

Kenneth trembled as he took a big sip from his glass; Sophia could see that he was reliving that moment right there in front of her, “We went to about five houses…each one same thing. Some were killed on the toilet…in their living room…kitchen…shower…it’s when we got deeper into the town we found a few outside done in the same way…and these bastards got creative…some were slit from chin to groin…some had their head cut clean off and placed in their laps…men…women…children…”