Read Online Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) by L. Douglas Hogan - Free Book Online
Authors: L. Douglas Hogan
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evade the search parties?
The questions were endless.
Stephen entered the blue house located just two blocks from his home. He had barely made it through the unlocked front door when he was met by an adult male.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Michael Williams. I’m injured and was hoping you could give me sanctuary.”
The man looked out the window and turned back toward Stephen.
“Michael, huh? You’re the one they’re looking for, aren’t you?”
“Look, mister, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Neither do I, but you seem to have brought it with you. If they find you here, we’re both going to disappear.”
“Well, then they won’t find me, right?”
“I suppose not. You’re bleeding through your bandage. Let me clean that up for you.”
The man left the room.
Stephen looked around at some of the photographs on the man’s curio cabinet. When the man returned with some clean gauze wraps, Stephen asked, “Is that your family?”
“It is.”
“Where are they?”
“I haven’t the slightest. When curfew was dropped, they vanished. Haven’t seen them since. I’m sure they were picked up and probably locked up somewhere.”
The man told his story as if trying to distract himself.
“Where did you get this cut? And what happened to your leg?”
“My name’s not Michael. It’s Stephen. I’m a member of the Army National Guard, but my unit went rogue, and when that happened, I was hoping to return to my family. We have other plans.”
“I see,” the man said, and then paused to look at the cut in Stephen’s arm. “You’re going to need stitches, Steve.”
“I have a stitch kit in my bugout bag at the house.”
“Where’s your house?”
“Not far from here, but I’m going to wait for dark.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I have a pair of crutches in the basement you can take with you. I broke my ankle a couple of years back. I’m not going to be needing them after tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“I’m going to look for my son. I reckon they’ll pick me up and take me to where they took him.”
“What about your wife?”
“I lost her to cancer ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’ll be dark soon. You should rest while you can. The next time you stand up, your leg will be hurting worse than it did before you sat down.”
“Great.”
Stephen took a position on the couch, but his relaxation was short lived. There was a loud knock on the front door.
“They’re looking for me,” Stephen whispered.
Stephen stood up and hid himself behind the front door.
“There’s only one of them,” the man said.
“Let him in.”
“You’re crazy.”
Stephen pulled the kitchen knife out of his pants and revealed it to the man.
The man opened the door, and a soldier pushed himself into the living room.
“We’re looking for a conspirator and possible terrorist. He lives in this neighborhood and was last seen a block or two from here. He’s a tall white male, green eyes, military-style haircut, and may be posing as an army national guardsman.”
“I haven’t seen anybody fitting that description.”
“I’m going to search the premises.”
“You don’t have the right to search my property without a warrant.”
“Your rights are suspended under executive order. Move aside.”
The soldier pushed the man aside and took two steps forward, exposing his back to Stephen, who plunged the knife deep into the man’s back, between the fourth and fifth ribs. The knife was long enough to find the soldier’s heart. The soldier went down, but not without kicking Stephen in the bad leg and knocking him off balance.
The soldier was grasping for the knife that was stuck in his back, but Stephen grabbed it and pulled it out. After that, the soldier’s death was hastened.
“They know where I live,” Stephen said in a panic. “I have to go now.”
“Good luck to you, boy.”
Stephen limped out of the man’s house, and when he saw
The questions were endless.
Stephen entered the blue house located just two blocks from his home. He had barely made it through the unlocked front door when he was met by an adult male.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Michael Williams. I’m injured and was hoping you could give me sanctuary.”
The man looked out the window and turned back toward Stephen.
“Michael, huh? You’re the one they’re looking for, aren’t you?”
“Look, mister, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Neither do I, but you seem to have brought it with you. If they find you here, we’re both going to disappear.”
“Well, then they won’t find me, right?”
“I suppose not. You’re bleeding through your bandage. Let me clean that up for you.”
The man left the room.
Stephen looked around at some of the photographs on the man’s curio cabinet. When the man returned with some clean gauze wraps, Stephen asked, “Is that your family?”
“It is.”
“Where are they?”
“I haven’t the slightest. When curfew was dropped, they vanished. Haven’t seen them since. I’m sure they were picked up and probably locked up somewhere.”
The man told his story as if trying to distract himself.
“Where did you get this cut? And what happened to your leg?”
“My name’s not Michael. It’s Stephen. I’m a member of the Army National Guard, but my unit went rogue, and when that happened, I was hoping to return to my family. We have other plans.”
“I see,” the man said, and then paused to look at the cut in Stephen’s arm. “You’re going to need stitches, Steve.”
“I have a stitch kit in my bugout bag at the house.”
“Where’s your house?”
“Not far from here, but I’m going to wait for dark.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I have a pair of crutches in the basement you can take with you. I broke my ankle a couple of years back. I’m not going to be needing them after tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“I’m going to look for my son. I reckon they’ll pick me up and take me to where they took him.”
“What about your wife?”
“I lost her to cancer ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’ll be dark soon. You should rest while you can. The next time you stand up, your leg will be hurting worse than it did before you sat down.”
“Great.”
Stephen took a position on the couch, but his relaxation was short lived. There was a loud knock on the front door.
“They’re looking for me,” Stephen whispered.
Stephen stood up and hid himself behind the front door.
“There’s only one of them,” the man said.
“Let him in.”
“You’re crazy.”
Stephen pulled the kitchen knife out of his pants and revealed it to the man.
The man opened the door, and a soldier pushed himself into the living room.
“We’re looking for a conspirator and possible terrorist. He lives in this neighborhood and was last seen a block or two from here. He’s a tall white male, green eyes, military-style haircut, and may be posing as an army national guardsman.”
“I haven’t seen anybody fitting that description.”
“I’m going to search the premises.”
“You don’t have the right to search my property without a warrant.”
“Your rights are suspended under executive order. Move aside.”
The soldier pushed the man aside and took two steps forward, exposing his back to Stephen, who plunged the knife deep into the man’s back, between the fourth and fifth ribs. The knife was long enough to find the soldier’s heart. The soldier went down, but not without kicking Stephen in the bad leg and knocking him off balance.
The soldier was grasping for the knife that was stuck in his back, but Stephen grabbed it and pulled it out. After that, the soldier’s death was hastened.
“They know where I live,” Stephen said in a panic. “I have to go now.”
“Good luck to you, boy.”
Stephen limped out of the man’s house, and when he saw
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