Abuse of Chikara (book 1) (29 page)

Paul and Doug came out of a bathroom area laughing, snickering and covered with blood. He asked them what happened, but they simply raised their weapons and opened fire, killing two of the men with Dave. Dave and his remaining subordinate quickly returned fire, killing both men. He turned in the direction of the hallway they had come here from. There were at least a dozen men all walking up to him and his remaining guy Scott, laughing and snickering like fools. He noticed that their eye color had turned a bloodshot red like something out of a horror movie. He grabbed Scott and ran down the hallway in front of them. Seconds later, shot-gun and machine gun fire erupted behind them, striking the walls and ceiling. Lucky for them the hallway here branched off into three different sections. If the men followed them, they would have to split up or risk losing them by making the wrong choice. He headed towards the far right hallway that lead to the outside exit. He had something of an idea that might help them escape.

He knew this place backwards and forwards. He could easily find his way, even with his eyes closed, by feeling certain objects by hand. As matter of fact, he had even practiced this at times in case of an emergency. Before they got to the exit, they found their Asian founder being attacked by five men obviously under the influence of the creature. Deshi Minzhe easily put two of the men out of commission with an assortment of martial arts moves. The other three spread out and decided to take care of him with guns. Dave and Scott fired, filling these men full of holes and sending them to their graves. There was not a spot on these men’s bodies that did not get racked with gunfire. They greeted Deshi Minzhe and headed on over to the electrical box. He tells Scott to hurry as the weapons fire has no doubt alerted the possessed men to their location. Scott shuts off all the power and shoots up the circuit box so it will be difficult to restore power . Unfortunately, the illumination from his weapon flare is enough to make him a visible target in the dark, and one of the corrupted men puts a bullet in his head. Dave grabs Deshi and they run as quickly as possible. He relied on memories of the hallways to direct them as where to go. Dave was able to find his way because he understood situational awareness. He had an incredible perception of his environment and what was going on at any time. He was always aware of what was happening around him, and had a clear idea of his goals and how they would impact others. He was always able to adapt quickly and figure out how people would react to situations. He figured in their near-drunk state the total darkness would render them less able to function as a unit effectively. The possessed men stumbled around and got lost in the darkness. Some of them even shoot each other as they run around looking for Dave and Deshi. Soon they reach the exit and begin running for their very lives. He has no intention of fighting that creature again without superior numbers. He closed the door and took a few moment to let his eyesight adjust to normal light again.

It was a nice sunny day now that the sun had come up. He might die here, but he would not sit around and be killed. They fled, altering their path as much as possible, but Dave still hears the thing coming. He did not know a lot about wolves or even werewolves. He did know about police dogs, however, and suggested they crossover water to hide their scent. Maybe that is how the thing was tracking them. For once in his life, he wished he had watched those old monster films. Who would think that those corny old wolf man films, with their primitive special effects, might come in handy now? How the heck did you kill these things? Was it iron or silver or something? He did not have any thing silver on him and what if that crap did not work? Who was to say that stuff worked in real life any way? He still had not given up on the idea that the creature was some type of mutant wolf. Rational reasoning pointed to something like that. After five minutes or so, they heard pained noises like an animal that was in need of an animal being put down. Neither of them felt brave enough to turn back and check it out though. That thing may have found some wild animal to draw its attention or maybe it had fallen into a trap or something. They ran like Olympic runners, not worrying about tripping or hurting themselves in the forest. Both of them fell many times, but got back up immediately and started to run again. They had multiple scratches and bruises from tripping over rocks and other things. When they got to civilization, they would have to get their story straight, so they would not sound like lunatics. All that could be dealt with later. The main goal was to get out alive first.

Psycho Boy woke up out in the woods a good deal away from the underground caves. He was no longer in this weird third person like state where he was watching his own body doing things. He was fully in control now and Dirty Red was once again communicating with him. Red filled him in on what he had done in his wolf form. He knew most of the details already. That Dirty Red also witnessed these events meant they were not just a dream. He went back to the camp and saw it for himself. There was blood and organs all over the place. The entire place was trashed. Oh well, he did not really give a shit. He would miss bending over those big white booties, but he could get that anyplace. He never had any problem getting laid anytime he wanted it. He had money, and chicks simply just dug him. He had tapped white, black, Asian and pretty much any type of ass that was out there. Looking on the bright side, the monster had not touched any of the money and valuables stored here.

These people had quite a bit of money hidden in a large safe. There were no alarms or anything, and Dirty Red told him what the combination was to open the safe. This evil spirit thing was working out pretty good for him. Once he stuffed a sack with as much money as it could hold, he went about locating some new clothes. His had been torn apart by the transformation to his wolf form. He was completely nude, and covered in blood and bits of guts. Dirty Red told him that local law enforcement would not get here for some time. He took a quick shower and swiped some clothes. The owner would not be needing them anytime soon. Did people even wear clothes in the afterlife? Personally, he would not mind walking around nude, but it would draw unwanted attention. He swiped a few valuables before he left. These jackasses would not need them. Might as well take a few souvenirs to remember these dumbasses by. Walking away for the caverns he thought about how stupid they were. Everybody knew you did not invite total strangers into your home. They could be a murderer, rapist, or a large flesh-eating werewolf with 14-inch metal claws spewing yellow fluid that corrupted men's minds.

After walking for almost an hour, he finally found a road and started walking down it. He did not care where he was going as long as he was going somewhere. Dirty Red was still following, laughing his ass off about the slaughter that just took place. He was ecstatic that all those white people had been killed. He thanked Psycho Boy for giving him the Christmas present of a lifetime in the afterlife. He was in a pretty good mood himself, and started thinking about one of his favorite shows back in the day. He had loved the Andy Griffith Show as a kid. Soon he was walking and humming the tune to the fishing hole, which was played in the ending credits if he remembered right. Dirty Red also started humming with him. They walked for at least another 20 minutes, humming that tune until he woke up. What a strange dream that was. He stared at his knives suspended over his bed for a few minutes. He loved knives; they always gave him a comforting feeling in the morning. He got up and felt like just going for a ride. He was off work today and did not feel like sitting around after that dream; his adrenaline was really going. He got in his car and simply drove around. He did not have a specific destination in mind or know where he was going. Not a big issue as he could easily find his way back home as he had an excellent sense of direction. With his GPS, he did not have to worry.

These weapons were 100 percent fail-proof, as long as they were properly used they would never fail. This was unheard of in manufacturing. It is not a matter of if most products will fail, but when. All manufacturers lived with the knowledge that what they built would break down at some point. These babies would not, though. They would function perfectly in any weather conditions. These sniper rifles were not over engineered, and there was no impact on weight accuracy or handling. Using the most advanced computer modeling available, they were able to create an incredibly durable weapon. Not to mention, these new type of armor-piercing bullets that could cut through almost anything. Not to mention, these guns were completely plastic and would pass through any metal detector without setting it off. He wondered how these would affect their friend Dudley Do-Right. They really had no idea how strong the man really was or how tough his skin was. Maybe he was some type of genetic mutant like that Marvel comics his nephews were always reading, the X-Men or something. Possibly, it was some type of top secret military program that had run amok. Then again, maybe this was all a test of the program. Maybe this guy was some type of super soldier that had been tested in Iraq and Afghanistan. Maybe this was like urban warfare testing. A few squads of guys like him could really do some damage. In any case, this was the best they had at the moment. Maybe a bazooka or rocket launchers would work better. They could get some RPGs,but explaining the damage would be a huge problem. These things could be used quietly and would not attract all the attention.

Too bad about Bill, though. Even if they got this fool, Bill’s career in law enforcement was pretty much over. As a sergeant he had been doing Dirty Red’s old job, taking care of business for Bill. Maybe when Bill got removed, he could be a candidate to take over the superintendent’s job. In any case, Quinton could still be a problem. There was no guarantee he would just go away if Bill was ruined or killed. Once the payment had been made and he checked the merchandise, they were off. All the guys, including him, were expert marksmen, and would have no trouble handling this new rifle. He did plan on testing these babies himself at a private shooting range. Now the question was where they could set up to ambush him and how to get him there. Quinton could run as fast as a greyhound, so finding him could be a problem. Not to mention he liked using the sewers and hopping roof tops. They would need to get him someplace and light him up. He could not wait to try out one of the features of these new rifles. They had some type of device that allowed you to see through objects with the scope. It still had some bugs from what he was told. The power source for the device ran down quick, and it had trouble seeing through certain types of material. Looking through multiple objects was a problem as well. Normal walls would not be a problem. If they did not kill this dude, then they would at least fuck up his day.

They went to one of their remote hideouts on some land Bill owned through an associate who was squeaky clean. They had a little house here that they stored certain items in. They would practice here and maybe at one of the private shooting ranges. Al loved any type of gun. For Big Al, guns were many things from protection to an exercise of his basic civil rights. He used to always say you get more with a gun and a kind word then just a kind word any day. He picked one of the rifles up and examined it, while lovingly caressing it like it was an attractive woman. Most of these were black or green. This one was actually blue, which was his favorite color. He would keep this one for himself. No reason to have the color changed as they would be doing this at night. Blue and red actually blended in better at night than black did. Ninjas actually wore blue and red more so than black because it worked better.

Al would enjoy shooting that fool Quinton. Bill had been something of a mentor to him when he was younger. Sitting in the house eating his favorite dish of spaghetti and walnuts cold, he thought about his youth. He was a wild kid who rarely went to school and hung out with a street gang in Brooklyn He had a lot of fun in the Bowery boys. Making money in smuggling, prostitution and drug dealing. The guys running the show used to pay the cops off to look the other way. He had fun, but never rose to a position of power in the organization. He made some decent money and lived out of different motels in the area. One day he let a few friends talk him into breaking into people’s homes. They would case the places they wanted to rob for weeks. It was not hard getting a good fix on a person’s schedule. Many people were creatures of habit and did not deviate much from their normal patterns. They broke into most homes easily and got away with it. People thought big violent dogs would protect their homes, but there were ways around that also. They would come by and give the dog biscuits or some other type of food. The animal would become used to them and would be no problem when they broke in. They made the mistake of breaking into the home of Bill’s father. Bill’s father was a trained martial artist who just happened to be a preacher. For some reason the man had broken his normal schedule and come home unexpected. The three of them split up and started to pack stuff up to remove it. One guy was waiting outside in a van with the engine running. This guy was usually reliable, but had decide to go inside and grab a sandwich on the first floor as they were checking out the second floor.

The preacher had walked in and sized up what was going on. The man was an expert martial artist and quickly knocked the fool out. The three others did have guns, but did not expect anyone to come home. Usually his family did not come back until the next morning. The old preacher was not stupid, and caught each one of them alone off guard and separated. The preacher shot one in the hand and arm causing the teenager to drop his gun. The man quickly knocked the boy out. His other dumb friend had put his weapon down, and was sniffing female underwear in the preacher’s daughter’s room. He quickly found himself face first on the ground taking a nap. Al did not hear the gunshots because of the silencer on the gun the preacher had stolen from one of his buddies, but did hear a brief moan and sound of someone collapsing. When he went to investigate he found his friend on the floor. Out of the corner of his left eye, he saw movement and nothing but stars. He then felt his right hand holding his gun being bent back at an unnatural angle. Then he, too, was out like a light. That he was tied up and injured did not surprise him. That the police were here did not surprise him. That he and his friends were taken to a hospital for treatment was also no shock. What did shock him was the fact that the older pastor was not pressing charges on the condition that the young men. No charges accept counseling at his church. They had some youth program that got money from the state or something to help with troubled youths.