The Suicide King (The Grave Diggers Book 2) by Chris Fritschi

Author:Chris Fritschi [Fritschi, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2020-04-02T22:00:00+00:00

Leaving the gate open, they crouched in the shallow alcove of the building, just inside the fence.

“We’re good here,” said Monkhouse into his mike. “No sounds, or movement.”

“Copy that,” replied Wesson. “Rest of the team, we’ll move out in staggered formation and meet up with Monkhouse and Fulton. Move fast and keep your eyes open.” She paused a few seconds for the rest of the team to get ready. “Go.”

The team came out of the shadows of the tall plants, heading directly for the open gate. The only sound was the soft crunch of their boots and the quiet rattle of the odd bit of gear.

One after the other slipped through the gate until they were all inside.

“Close it up, Rosse,” said Tate.

Rosse pulled a thick plastic zip-cuff from his pack and threaded it around each gate. He fed the tip of the strip through the eyelet and cinched it tight. For good or bad, they were locked inside the village.

The wide street was mostly hard-packed dirt, with a meandering gully snaking its way down the center, carved by years of rain. Bordering the street was a jumble of weathered, mismatched buildings of mud, brick and cinderblock. A couple had been painted in bright green or blue, but had faded to a chalky dullness long ago. Others had been white-washed, with the rest left with their naked red brick and grey mortar. Most appeared to be homes, with an occasional shop-front littered among them.

The team stayed to the sides of the street, walking around piles of junk, and scattered abandoned cars. Here and there, a window was covered with rusty bars in patterns that failed to lessen the ugliness of their purpose.

As the team moved up the street, Tate noticed that all of the doors on every building were closed.

The people using the abandoned gas station for their distro site must have done that, he guessed. It would keep the Vix from hiding inside, but… isn’t that what the fence is for?

“I don’t like this place,” said Rosse.

“Yeah,” said Fulton. “Like it’s haunted.”

“Kinda,” said Rosse. “There’s nothing here, but the nothing’s watching us.”

“Keep the chatter down,” said Wesson.

Tate didn’t believe in ghosts, but he felt what Rosse was talking about. He glanced over his shoulder at Kaiden, whose expression told him she was feeling the same. There was something softly pulling at the edge of his instincts that made him grip his HK-98 tighter.

The road ahead was lost from their view as it made a bend to the left, giving the illusion of a dead end. The buildings around them were jammed together, leaving no view of the outside world. There was only the sharp, blue sky above, but it only added to the sensation that they were seeing it from the bottom of a hole. The entrance to the village felt much further than the hundred yards to the closed gate.

Without warning, Tate brought up his right fist, signaling the team to halt. Everyone stopped and quickly dropped to a knee with their weapons up.

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