Dark Elements: Rising (Book 3), A Near Future Dystopian Techno-Thriller Action Series by Luke Davids

Author:Luke Davids [Davids, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“You alright out here, Billy?” The voice broke the quiet night.

“Aye, sir, it’s another quiet night this far out from the city.” Billy snickered.

“Well, keep your eyes open. Anyone comes or goes, you give us the call, alright?”

Atticus watched the two men speak from the shadows. Hidden behind a thick, long-dead tree stump, he waited for the watchman to be alone again.

Music blared from inside the building while Billy sat drinking outside—no doubt missing the fun to ensure they capture another band of travelers trying to escape the settlement by night.

Just like Mary and Ben’s group, Atticus thought.

Bringing little more than his pistol, a hammer, and a few knives strewn across his body, Atticus felt secure in this battle. Preston wasn’t lying when he said these men were little more than kids—they’d barely grown hair on their chins.

“Aye, Sir. Always watching,” Billy replied, tapping his right eye.

The second man, short and thin, returned to the building. The loud music escaped with the door’s opening and went partially muted again as he closed it.

Having spent the last few nights scoping out the place, Atticus finally felt prepared for this attack. He’d learned about the five men during his time

watching the vast expanse of wasteland. Every night, they shifted who sat in front of the door, scanning for potential threats or travelers.

There was Billy, his ginger hair culminating in a bushy top and short sides.

He carried a shotgun on him that was always within arm’s reach, even when he went around the side to void his bladder. Then there were the twin brothers Marcel and Damien: Marcel had long, uncut hair, always messy and greasy, while Damien opted for a buzzcut. Both scrawny and weak. Fitz was the tallest of the group, with long, gangly limbs and constant ticks, even when sitting completely still.

Finally, there was the man known only as Sir. The only one Atticus never saw on guard duty and the only one that the others seemed to fear.

Once Sir disappeared back into the house, with the door shut, Atticus made his approach. He moved swift, yet silent, with the hammer drawn. Approaching Billy, who had his back turned to scan the horizon, Atticus wrapped a hand around Billy’s mouth. He brought the prongs of the hammer down into Billy’s hand, which rested limply on a camper’s table, pinning it in place.

Billy screamed into Atticus’s cupped hand.

“Hello, Billy-boy,” Atticus whispered into his ear.

The muffled screaming didn’t cease.

Atticus waited for Billy to stop screaming before he continued.

“I’m going to move my hand now. If you make so much as a noise to try and warn those inside of what’s coming, my hammer will meet the back of your skull. Do you understand?”

Billy nodded. The screaming turned to tears, no doubt both from pain and fear.

Atticus moved his cupped hand from Billy’s face.

“Wh . . . who are you? What do you want from me?” Billy asked.

“Give me a layout of the house,” Atticus said, not answering any of the questions. “I’m an impatient man, Billy.

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