Corruption: The Undead Possession Series - Book 3 by Boote Justin

Author:Boote, Justin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Eric took another long swig of the bottle of whiskey he’d stolen from Gary’s room and put it under his pillow. He didn’t think Gary would miss it; those traitors were long gone, probably having hot showers and eating prime steak fillets. That was okay—fuck ‘em. They were better off without them. Soon, if things went to plan, he would be running the show there, not that loudmouthed bastard Terry and that bitch Amanda.

And really, it was the only way forward. He was the one with the leadership skills. Local politicians, the mayor, anyone who was anyone in that town had looked up to him. Called him “sir.” And damn right they should. Most of them were filthy rich, thanks to him and him only. Nothing got built anywhere around there by anyone else unless he allowed it. Together, when the boom had started, he had ensured they all got rich, everyone was happy and not left out, and prying eyes and inquisitive minds were soon ran out of town.

And then look what had happened.

As soon as the virus struck, they had all fled like chickens in their private jets and helicopters out of the country or to top-secret underground bunkers. And how many had come for him? Not one.

That was okay too. He was still alive; they were probably all sucking on brains or dead. Or both, when you thought about it. He rubbed his chin where that yob Terry had hit him. The last time anyone had hit him, he’d been a schoolkid. No one got away with that anymore. The last time he’d been threatened, the guy’s business had been closed down and their son expelled from university on alleged charges of cheating his exams. People just did not mess with Eric Wayman.

He heard Terry outside his room on his way to his own, talking to Jean and Amanda. Probably conspiring to have him thrown out. Fat chance. He waited until they’d gone, peeked out the door to ensure they were safely in their rooms, and headed outside. Downstairs, the others were still chatting among themselves. It would be a good time to give them something proper to think about.

All of them were down there except that creepy, religious kid. Mark or something. He didn’t like that boy. There was something about him that was odd. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but he had a kind of presence about him. He felt uncomfortable whenever he was close by, as if he was someone he should be afraid of. And Eric didn’t like that; he was afraid of no one.

Several of the group stopped talking when he entered the living room and sat before them, others conveniently changing the subject to minor matters. Eric wasted no time.

“Well, you saw what that thug did earlier. A few harsh truths, and this is how they react. Now that Chris and the other two aren’t coming back, this is how they plan on running things around here. With violence and aggression.

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