Trapped: Fracture Book 4: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) by Kenny Soward & Mike Kraus

Author:Kenny Soward & Mike Kraus [Soward, Kenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2021-12-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Angel Willard, Napa, California

As 10 a.m. approached, the sun grew hotter, baking the air in a warm heat, bringing with it an unusual wet mugginess.

They’d waited forty-five minutes for backup units to arrive, but it soon became clear there would be no one coming. Finally, Davis had radioed in that they were going in without help. He’d seen no one moving on the property since they’d showed up, and he expressed doubt that any serious threats remained.

With the Mossberg 500 gripped in her hands, Angel walked on the deputy’s left, half-crouched as they approached the dead body lying in the Barrys’ driveway. Sweat coated her forehead in a greasy sheen, scalp itching as trickles dripped through her hair.

She stared at the woman with the flowered dress, face down on the rough gravel, arms stretched above her head, legs splayed behind her, one loose sandal lying ten feet away. The original white fabric of her dress was stained red with dark entry marks, dots of ragged flesh pierced her with violence. Pockets of gravel formed pools of blood beneath her. The woman, who couldn’t have been much older than Angel herself, had a tangle of sable hair dashed around her head in a feathery halo.

Angel clamped down on her welling emotions, blinking away teary eyes as she stood off to the side, scanning the property while the deputy knelt next to the woman. The home was three stories tall with a driveway that circled a fountain in the shape of a vineyard trellis with cascading grapevines, the water-stained stone dried up and lifeless. The house’s siding was white, the black trim cut precisely, the eaves and gutters clear of debris and smartly angled to catch rain in barrels at the end of the downspouts. Around the circular driveway, a pair of older model trucks were parked. Off to the left on a stone patio was a double swing covered by a pinewood pergola.

Marjorie stepped to Angel’s side, nodding toward the wide front porch where a cloud of insects buzzed thick. “Guys,” she said. “We’ve got another one.”

Boots crunched over gravel as the deputy slipped past them, pistol drawn and pointed upward at the canopy of trees crowding them. “The woman’s dead,” he said with a pause. “I think it’s Talia Barry. And I’d bet all my overtime that’s her dad right there. Keep an eye out. I doubt whoever did this is still here, but you never know.”

The women exchanged glances before following the deputy, splitting off to the sides to give him room. Angel looked at the porch where an older man reclined on the bloodstained wooden stair, knees wide, slippers tumbled to the bottom, his white T-shirt stained and twisted on his body.

That was all Angel could bear. She turned away and peered past the swing set at a scattering of gigantic oaks and spruces with open grass between them. Someone had hammered rustic signs to the tree trunks, and a wildflower garden lay past it with a stretch of curling vines connected to latticework and trellises.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.