Nightwalker 5 by Frank Roderus & Craig Martelle

Author:Frank Roderus & Craig Martelle [Roderus, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2019-08-18T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Wolfe abandoned all pretense of traveling in the shadows. The vast mob behind him was making too much noise. They walked in the open where they could see. Some of them were talking.

He ducked into a driveway that went between two darkened houses. The thirty people behind him followed. Wolfe turned at the end and held up his hands.

“This is not going to work. You are making too much noise.” As if to emphasize his point, Buddy dove into the bushes and wrestled with something before emerging victorious, a ground squirrel in his mouth.

“I need you.” Wolfe pointed to the two old veterans. “I need you four.” More pointing. “And you two. Bessie, you take Jennifer and everyone else to a place near the road leading into the eastern compound. Once we have everything in hand, we will need everyone to come in and help us carry any arms and ammunition they have. We cannot leave anything there.”

“Kill ‘em all. Let God sort ‘em out,” the old soldier said. Wolfe could not sympathize with him. He did not want to kill anyone. He was only doing what he had to do.

And that had changed since he walked out of that shaft, which seemed like a lifetime ago. With his goggles around his neck, he could see in the dark as if it were hazy twilight. He could bend steel, and his hair had turned white. He had dyed it brown, but it was growing again, and the white roots were starting to show.

He would have to find more dye unless he finished the Alstons and the major. Removed them and their ability to haunt him.

There was so much he would change if he could, from driving the truck to after the fall. Letting men like the Alstons have their way made everyone worse. They needed to be corralled and broken. They needed to be a footnote in history, not making history.

Their time had come.

Wolfe would see to that this very night. His lip twitched into a feral snarl that no one could see. It was too dark for that.

“Time to go,” he told his small group. “Miss Bessie, stay back a ways. Let us have the road. You’ll know when it is okay to cut the wire and join us.”

She produced a hacksaw blade and pair of wire cutters. “We’ll take care of it. How will I know when it’s time to go?”

“I reckon the noise and shouting will tell you.” Wolfe hoisted his bow. He had eight arrows in his quiver. He was running low again. He did not want to waste them but had no choice.

Too many times recently, he had had no choice. It was like hanging onto the raft as it raced down the rapids. He was not even sure he was riding on the inside.

Wolfe led the group to the edge of the small fenced compound. This time, the sentry at the front gate was wide awake. He peered into the darkness while leaning against the barricade that blocked the main gate.

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