Read Black Flagged (The Black Flagged Technothriller Series) Online
Authors: Steven Konkoly
"Eat the veggies too, guys," he urged.
Ryan made a weak gesture with his fork toward the veggies. Emily ignored the request altogether. Alex looked back up at Kate, smiling thinly.
"The whole neighborhood is starving, and my kids are picking at their food," he said.
"They'll polish it off, don't worry."
"Anyway, the light's fine, but we were always cautious when the sun set. Your eyes have to constantly adjust to the changing light, and they're easily tricked. I always felt more comfortable when the dark completely settled."
"They'll have the same problem," Kate said.
Alex saw that Ryan was listening to their conversation and nodded.
"What? It's not like you're in a private forum," Ryan said defensively.
"We didn't say anything," said Kate.
"So are we alright having dinner now?" asked Ryan.
Now Emily focused on the conversation.
Great.
Kate raised her eyebrows and gently blew air out of her mouth, which was her patented non-verbal 'here we go.'
"Now that we're all part of the conversation…let's just finish eating and get upstairs. Everyone's in our room tonight. All night," said Alex.
"What?! Come on, I don't want to sit around your room all night watching her stupid shows. Why can't we sit on the third floor? She can watch TV on the other side," complained Ryan.
"Then all I'll hear is your stupid machine gun games," Emily whined back.
"I'll use headphones," he said.
"Is anyone still playing online?" asked Kate.
"Earlier in the month it slowed down a lot, but it's starting to pick back up again. A bunch of my friends are on, and they're fine," he told her.
"Good, let's finish eating, so we can close up down here and…"
Alex's sentence was interrupted by a hard knock on the mudroom door. "Everyone upstairs immediately. Let's go," he barked as he slammed down the half empty pint glass.
He shot up from the table and moved over toward the refrigerator, ensuring his pistol was in his hip holster and grabbing the assault rifle leaned up against the kitchen desk. He pulled the bolt handle back and let it slide forward, chambering a round. He checked the safety and slung it over his back, edging over to the doorway and peeking through the mudroom at the door. He met Manson's lifeless eyes.
"I thought we were done here," yelled Alex.
"You gonna open the door and talk to me civilized?" the man said, again never blinking.
"No. You need to move along," Alex said, as a powerful burst of wind filled the mudroom stoop and buffeted the man standing there.
"There hasn't been a lot of help for us around here. Fucking rude ass people mostly…"
"I hear it's a lot friendlier up north."
He stepped into full view of the man. Alex noticed a slight change in the man's eyes as he registered both the hip holster and the rifle.
"Who is it, Alex?" Kate yelled from the kitchen.
"Nobody we know. Just some drifters. You should head upstairs," he said firmly, but calmly, feeling composed and in control of the situation. Openly carrying these two weapons reminded him of an era filled with supreme confidence. Only body armor, a helmet and immediate access to a dozen similarly equipped Marines could boost him up higher.
"Don't you think that's a little over-kill?" the man yelled, nodding toward Alex.
"Not in my experience," he replied.
The man momentarily laughed under his breath.
"And what experience might that be?" he demanded.
"Enough to know that your arrival here is bad news. You guys aren't planning on shooting out all of the streetlights are you?"
The man snickered at the comment.
"Look, I know you're holding out on me. Your good friend Todd told us you have a ton of food stored away in there and that you've been handing it out to some of the neighbors."
He glanced over his shoulder at another man who suddenly appeared on the sidewalk in front of Alex's house, near the driveway.
"We just want our cut of this charity, and we won't bother you after that. We've got two families, so we'll need at least…"
Alex's glance drifted to the man near the street. Same type of clothes, hats, shoes.
Something's off. Shit. It's not the same guy I saw before. No long hair. Stay calm. There might be another guy out there.
Suddenly he didn't feel very secure. Behind the door, he couldn't see below Manson's mid-stomach, or below his elbows.
The guy could be holding a sawed-off shotgun down low, and I'd never be able to react in time.
His eyes darted out beyond Manson and the man on the sidewalk, to the numerous bushes and evergreen trees within view across the street.
The other guy could be sighting in on my head right now.
He glanced back into the library, at the window.
Or hop up on the bulkhead door under the window and blast my head off.
Alex felt queasy, but maintained his posture and focus. He reached back without looking and closed the door to the library. He glanced through the kitchen at the family room.
They could blast me through one of the side family room windows from here.
All of his attention was focused on the front door. Alex couldn't believe he had made such an elementary mistake. He stepped forward into the mudroom, eliminating the great room windows as an opportunity to take him down, and refocused on what the man was saying.
Something about getting his share of the bounty?
"I gave away all I had to spare. That's it. I need you to get the fuck out of here. Now!" he shouted.
"That's bullshit! You got plenty hidden in there…" the man started, with his right hand pointed accusingly at Alex.
"Someone's in the backyard!" screamed a panicked voice from deep inside the house.
He instinctively slung the rifle around with his left hand, twisting his body slightly to the right. The AR-15 rifle pointed high on the man's chest within the barely discernable flash of a second, and he disengaged the safety before the barrel settled. The man grinned, showing his brown-stained teeth. Alex could see what looked like blackened decay on one of his incisors.
"Get him around front where I can see him, or I'll kill you where you stand!" Alex hissed.
"Ten seconds! Ten…nine…eight…"
The man raised his hands to his mouth, and Alex almost pulled the trigger. He took a few shallow, controlled breaths, and eased all pressure off the trigger, shocked at how far he had involuntarily pulled it. The man whistled three times, three short, sharp whistles.
"…seven…six…five…"
"He's running around front!" Kate yelled from somewhere near the top of the stairs.
Alex kept his own focus just to the side of the scope. At this range, he wouldn't miss, even without sighting in. The man stared at him impassively.
"…four…three…"
Manson barked something toward the driveway, and the third man suddenly appeared. Manson yelled for him to join "Rick," and Alex watched as the third man walked over to "Rick" near the top of the driveway. The man tried hard to conceal a weapon on the right side by his body. Alex couldn't determine the weapon type, but guessed it to be a modified shotgun, with either a shortened barrel or no shoulder stock.
The phone rang and he ignored it. He needed to focus on the man standing on his mudroom stoop.
"Charlie Thornton's calling!" he heard from upstairs.
"See what he wants!" he yelled back, shifting his gaze from the man on his porch to the two men standing on his sidewalk.
"He says the man that just ran out has a shotgun!"
The man on the porch didn't appear to have heard her, and continued to stare at Alex.
This guy's fucking crazy.
"You gonna quit pointing that thing at me?" Manson grunted.
Alex lowered the barrel slightly, but kept it aligned with the vertical center of the man's body.
"Not until you're out of my sight. Come back again, and I'll kill you. If I see you approach this house with that shotgun your friend is carrying, or any other weapon, I'll kill you."
"Don't worry Alex…you won't see us next time," he warned, turned to leave.
Alex considered shooting him in the head, and then gunning down the other two. He'd probably get one of the others right away, hopefully the guy with the shotgun, then pop out of the mudroom door and tag the other one. He knew it would all be over in a matter of seconds, but something stopped him. The pressure eased off the trigger, and he was once again surprised by how close he had come to killing this man.
Manson walked straight across the landscaped bed, pushing through tightly spaced, waist high evergreen bushes, and trampling the remnants of a large, decayed perennial. The gunman no longer made any attempt to conceal the short barreled shotgun, and brazenly slung it over his shoulder.
I know I should take them out now. All standing in a pile like that. I'll never get a chance like this again.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two