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Authors: Eddie Jakes

BOOK: General Population
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Several bullets whizzed by the two men as Javier continued to unleash his fury onto the oncoming werewolf gang. There were more connects than misses that—although not fatal—slowed their attackers down considerably as Roberts dragged Maddix farther away from the danger.
 

"We need …" said Maddix, trying to find enough will to speak. "We need to get Tara back to the station."

"No good," said Javier. "The station is compromised. We'll have to find another spot to recoup."

Javier grabbed Maddix's free arm and propped it over his shoulder. The wolves had been left disorientated by Javier's marksmanship and they didn't waste time putting some distance behind them. As they passed by the station, Roberts could see his former friends spilling out of the station looking like zombies seeking out a living meal. They immediately made eye contact with the escaping men and ran to intercept.

"Roberts," shouted Javier, "suppression!"

"But, Chief?"

"Unless you want to end up like me, you'll shoot!" said Maddix, who was already struggling to get his arms free.

Hesitant to kill his long-time companions, Roberts slowly aimed his gun and fired. They weren't as nimble as the wolves and made easy targets for him. Each constable he took out, choked him up inside has he said their names in his head. He asked God for forgiveness and only prayed that he was giving them peace.

Maddix managed to fire a few shots, but the force of the pistol was too much for his condition and he fell on his ass with his gun still pointed straight. He fired a couple more rounds, capping some knees, which brought two of them down, causing a domino effect.
 

"Grab Benbrook," said Javier. "We need to get out of here or we're going to be surrounded really fast."

Roberts quickly rushed to Maddix’s aid. He was a complete mess but held his own, using the weight of Roberts to help him stay balanced.
 

The possessed constables fought to get back on their feet. Whatever influence the wasps had on them, caused them to react violently to each other when making contact so most of them began to attack one another. Javier shot the few that managed to get their footing with bull's eye precision. He was a master with firearms and nailing a target center mass was second nature.

Javier took a pause when he shot one of his men directly in the chest. He barely let out a groan, as it kept moving toward them. Blood was pumping out the wound, but it did not even faze him till his heart gave its final pump before stopping completely. It was clear that whatever had taken over their bodies was making it impossible for them to feel pain and so they continued their pursuit full force until their life force was completely gone.
 

"Javier," called Maddix. "Move! Now!"

But it was not so easy for him. The thought of the suffering they must be enduring was too much for him to ignore. He had seen what these things did to the brain when they removed it from the corpse. There would be no recovery for them; only death would bring them rest.
 

The approaching sound of growling and snarling snapped Javier out of his mission of mercy and back into the desperation of the situation. They had completely recovered from the onslaught of bullets and their clouded eyes were bleeding at the tear ducts. Javier could see more wasps fighting to burrow into their skulls.

Both Roberts and Maddix took shots at the wolves, but neither seemed to hit anything vital, and what they did hit didn't seem to faze them anymore.

"Just run!" screamed Javier.
 

Roberts and Javier scooped up Maddix's arms and ran away from the possessed predators and toward the overseer's office.
 

"Oh, shit!" said Roberts and he pointed in the distance toward the three-story building.

CHAPTER NINE

When Tara needed to relax, she found that a hot shower followed up with a glass of Scotch was the best way. One thing that the Kirkpatricks were exquisite at was making whiskey. And boy did she need it.
 

She already had the glass poured and sitting on her dresser, waiting for her emergence from the bathroom. She was wrapped in a towel, with a second bundling up her wet hair. She anxiously snatched up the glass and took a couple sips before moving to the bed where she had already laid out some clothes.
 

Usually, she would dress a little more professional, but being attacked by a vampire under the influence of mutant insects can make you a little more casual in your chosen attire. She even decided to break out an old pair of running shoes that she never wore since coming to Malevolent. Tara could only assume that she must have been more into fitness in the real world for her to bring them with her. She liked to stay fit for sure, but the thought of late night jogging in a town full of monsters did not appeal to her even if they couldn't harm her.
 

At least that used to be the case, anyway.

Tara got fully dressed before she finished drying her hair and took another sip of whiskey. It helped to calm her nerves just enough so that her guard wasn't down. Since the attack, every slight disruption or noise made her jump. She didn't want to get caught with her pants down again, but she didn't want to go crazy from paranoia either. She knew the perfect balance between a relaxing buzz and being drunk for sure. Maybe that was another clue to who she really was back home? Was she a substance abuse counselor? Maybe she was a bartender at an upscale club? That would be more fun.

After slipping on her shoes and finishing her drink, Tara made her way downstairs. She would meet up with Maddix at the constables' station and figure out their next move. Hopefully, Krazek gave up some useful information or maybe even a confession to being the mastermind of this whole conspiracy to murder everyone with devil wasps. Out of all the prisoners in Malevolent, he would be the one who would have no qualms about wiping out both sides of the coin. He was a narcissistic megalomaniac and only interested in his own power over all things, living or dead.

Tara could hear some activity downstairs as she made her way into the library through the bookcase. No matter how many times she used the secret door, she was always amused by it. The Founding Fathers thought of everything when they built the place. It was comforting to know that no would know where she and Maddix slept at night. It also added a little mystique to the place. Like they were secret agents in their top-secret lair. Which he supposed, that they were in a sense.

Tara looked at the disaster of a library expecting to see Maddix, but no one was there. She called his name a few times, but there was no response. She looked again, trying to find the source of the noises she heard but again, could find nothing. That was odd. Her head injury wasn't that severe, or was it?

Twenty seconds of silence was followed by something stirring outside the windows. Tara felt apprehensive about looking outside but did so anyway. She quickly scanned the floor and picked up a broken table leg. Holding like a club she steadily peered outside to find five werewolves scaling up the walls toward her.

"Don't let them get inside!" yelled Javier.
 

Constable Roberts had already set Maddix gently on the ground and began to shoot the wall-climbing invaders before Javier could finish his command. They were easy pickings for the two men, and three of them took hits to the back and head before falling lifelessly to the ground. Maddix managed to let loose with a couple shots but just barely missed as the last two smashed through the windows and climbed into the library.

Maddix hoped that Tara was still upstairs and hidden from the marauding wolves, but he knew her too well and she would most definitely investigate any shattering of glass that she might hear.

"Let's move. We need to save her before they rip her to pieces," said Javier.

"We need to deal with this," Maddix stated, pulling on Javier's arm and struggling to get to his feet. He pointed back toward the opposite end of town where the pursuing wolves, constables, and now zombies were approaching them fast.

"Oh fuck!" muttered Roberts.
 

Javier's arms went slack in defeat. It was like the entire prison population had been infected and was being unleashed on them.
 

"Just thin them out as much as possible. We need them to get as close as possible before we go in."
 

"What about Tara?" asked Javier.

"There's nothing we can do for them right now."

The three men opened fire on the approaching mob.

"Wait," said Javier. "What do you mean them?"

The first werewolf to smash through the window was greeted by a well-placed blow to the head by Tara's table leg mace. The timing and momentum combined sent the wolf spiraling onto its back, yelping. The second werewolf was luckier and managed to catch the table leg in its mouth and break it into two pieces.
 

Tara didn't hesitate to step in and jam the broken end into the neck of the beast as deep as she could. There wasn't any blood, but it sure caused enough discomfort to knock the world off balance and stumbling into a supply cabinet behind it. Assorted supplies overflowed out of every crack caused by the fight, including a pair of antique silver scissors.

Putting herself in harm's way, Tara climbed over the fur covered killer and reached for the scissors, but was stopped short by the powerful arms of the wolf clutching her body. She could feel the air in her lungs being squeezed out and taking in any new air was becoming impossible.

While fighting to take one more deep breath, Tara could smell something burned on the werewolf's right arm. She forced her eyes to peek down and found an open bullet wound surrounded by singed fur.
It must have been shot coming up here,
she thought. Tara took her thumb and jammed it into the hole as hard as she could, causing the monster to scream in pain and release its grip enough to grab the scissors from the floor.
 

Tara raised the scissors in the air with both hands to stab it in the chest, but the first werewolf was already on her and grabbing her from behind. Tara swung the scissors wildly behind her hoping to hit anything that could help free her. With a good amount of luck, the scissors struck the wolf in its left eye socket, piercing its brain with the silver. After a few fleeting death throws the savage animal went limp.

After pulling the scissors out of the already regressing werewolf's eye, Tara rolled off of its body and stood up in a defensive stance toward the second. It was still favoring its shot arm and staring at Tara with its cloudy eyes. Its body tensed up and she could see the hind legs start to coil up in preparation of a pounce. The lips around its jaw pulled back, revealing its foam-laden teeth and fangs. After finally setting its injured arm on the ground it leapt forward with all claws extended.

Tara was almost smiling as she dropped backward and pushed the scissors forward with both hands, allowing the heavy animal to fall on top of the pointed tip. It slid into its chest as easily as if it were cutting through paper, and within a fraction of a second was piercing the werewolf's heart. The sting of silver shot through every part of the creature's body and death followed close by.
 

The size and weight of the beast were too much for Tara and she was trapped underneath it.

"Dammit!"

CHAPTER TEN

"I don't have enough ammo for this shit!" shouted Roberts as he slammed a clip into his gun and continued to fire at the wave of death approaching.

Each of them took careful aim to make sure every shot counted. The numbers were dropping, but it didn't put a dent in what was coming after them. Maddix rallied for them to keep shooting and wait till he gave the signal to head inside. It was obvious to Javier and Roberts that he had some kind of plan in motion but with time working against them, it was impossible to take the time to lay everything out for them.

Maddix had managed to dig deep for a second wind, or more like a third, fourth, and fifth wind. The pain was becoming easier to ignore, but getting his body to obey his commands was another matter. Everything that didn't hurt seemed to go numb, making it difficult to assess proper aim and distance. Despite these shortcomings, though, he was managing to score some impressive shots at some of the zombie's skulls, sometimes taking as many as three down with a single shot. The werewolves were impossible for him to hit with their increased agility and speed.

To his left, Javier noticed that the werewolf numbers had increased exponentially with some standing on the sidelines watching. Something wasn't right about that. They didn't seem to be infected by the same wasps that got the others, nor did they seem concerned about the current situation in the slightest.
 

"Chief," shouted Roberts. "Look out!"

Javier snapped out of it, just in time to see Roberts fire three perfect shots into a werewolf's chest before it could pounce him. It flopped around in pain before settling into eternal sleep.
 

"Okay," said Maddix, choking back a spasm of pain. "That's close enough, let's go inside, get Tara, and then head to the roof."

"That's suicide!" Roberts remarked as he took out three more flesh biters.

"No, we can lead them inside, go to the roof, and hop across to Ketter's shop. We can hide out there and regroup."

Javier smiled.

"Excellent thinking, monsieur. They won't be able to figure out where we have gone. They are mindless."

The three men started to walk backward toward the door, shooting anything that approached. The body count was rising but so were the number of zombies ambling into town in search of victims. The remaining werewolves had drowned in a sea of walking dead and none of them could get visual on where they were. This made Roberts especially nervous knowing how quick and agile they were. He had always hated werewolves above all other species in Malevolent.

An orchestra of booms echoed in the edge of town and division in the horde suddenly began to appear. Javier recognized the sound immediately as the constable's scatterguns. It was the pair of armed escorts he sent with Tanya and they were fighting through the crowd with heavier weaponry. He and Roberts waved and screamed for their attention.

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