The Gauntlet by Mike Kraus

Author:Mike Kraus [Kraus, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-12-29T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

“I don’t see what the damned problem is. You’ve got your money, so why—” The man talking on the phone pauses and rolls his eyes as the person on the other end of the line interrupts him. After a few seconds he speaks again. “Look, fine, whatever. I don’t care anymore. Just get it taken care of. Yes. Yes, it’s still working. Yeah, great. Thanks. Later.”

Malcolm Stadwell throws his satellite phone onto his bed and rolls his eyes again. “Asshole.” He tilts back his head as he finishes another bottle of beer before chucking the bottle into a nearby trash can.

Though the apocalypse has come to the United States, Malcolm Stadwell barely feels a thing. With a backup generator, a large stock of food and drink and a healthy amount of security, he is both safe and comfortable in his four-bedroom home on the northern outskirts of Washington, D.C. The home is small but has a spacious basement, a built-in generator, whole-house battery and solar panels and is set up in a discrete neighborhood off of the beaten path and surrounded by ten-foot-tall steel fencing.

It is Malcolm’s sanctuary and fortress and home, allowing him to remain in denial about the events in the outside world while he relaxes, watches old movies and drinks himself to sleep every night.

As Malcolm trots down the stairs from the second story to the first, he opens his mouth to shout at his housekeeper. “Maria! Did you get around to that mopping today? The cellar’s in awful shape and I don’t… what the hell?” As his right foot hits the bottom of the stairs, it nearly slips out from under him. He looks down and lifts his foot up, grimacing as he realizes that it’s covered in some sort of sticky substance. “Dammit, Maria! What did you spill?!” He shouts at her again, but there is no answer.

He shakes his foot gingerly, not bothering to look very closely at the substance as he hops over a puddle of it and rounds the corner of the stairs. He stops, frozen in shock as he sees a dark form lying on the ground in front of him. A pool of dark red blood covers the floor, having flowed from the body’s head and collecting at a low spot at the bottom of the stairs. Malcolm gulps hard, not sure how to process the sight of his dead housekeeper until he remembers that there’s a small .380 revolver tucked away in the pocket of his robe.

Malcolm pulls out the revolver and snaps back the hammer, holding the weapon out at arm’s length with a slight tremor. He glances down at the body again, confirming that what he is seeing is real. “Someone broke in?” He whispers to himself as he steps forward, cringing as his wet foot hits the dry floor with a slight squelch. Fear seizes at his stomach, causing his arm and hand to shake even more as he steps forward. The edge of his robe catches in the thick liquid, pulling it slightly back and startling him.

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