Tainted Reality (The Rememdium Series Book 2) (23 page)

While watching and listening to the junkie whore—the one his son was in lust with—Walt’s guts burned. Though he’d changed his mind about Regina, learned to respect her for her loyalty and sacrifice to save others, Walter Addison felt no warm, fuzzy feelings toward the chief’s daughter.

At all.

I’ll protect my family at all costs. Jesse Parker isn’t family, and if she stands in the way of our safety, I won’t hesitate to take her down.

Mind ablaze with dark thoughts, Walt pulled out a hunting knife and continued to follow Kevin Warton, determined to find out the man’s secrets.

And if he was alone.

About the Author

Award-winning and International bestselling author Ashley Fontainne is an avid reader of mostly the classics. Ashley became a fan of the written word in her youth, starting with the Nancy Drew mystery series. Stories that immerse the reader deep into the human psyche and the monsters that lurk within us are her favorite reads.

Her short thriller entitled 
Number Seventy-Five
, touches upon the sometimes dangerous world of online dating. 
Number Seventy-Five
 took home the BRONZE medal in fiction/suspense at the 2013 Readers’ Favorite International Book Awards contest and is currently in production for a feature film.

Her paranormal thriller entitled
 The Lie
, won the GOLD medal in the 2013 Illumination Book Awards for fiction/suspense and is also in production for a feature film entitled 
Foreseen
.

Ashley’s decided to delve into the paranormal with a Southern Gothic horror/suspense novel, 
Growl
, which released in January of 2015. The suspenseful mystery
 Empty Shell
, released in September of 2014. Ashley teamed up with Lillian Hansen (Ashley calls her mom!) to pen a three-part murder mystery/suspense series entitled 
The Magnolia Series
. The first book, 
Blood Ties
, released the Summer of 2015.

Whispered Pain
 released in October of 2015 and 
Night Court
released December 13, 2015.
The Rememdium Series
is her first dip into the terrifying, post-Apocalyptic genre.

SNEAK PEEK AT TAINTED FUTURE – COMING SOON.

WAKING UP IN HELL - Monday - December 22
^nd
– 5:15 a.m. - Mountain Standard Time

Cooper Hollingsworth couldn’t stop staring at the bloody snow. The crimson patches made the thick, white powder look like someone tossed buckets of red juice all over the ground. He was surrounded by slushies made from human blood. Mind reeling, he barely noticed the lone streetlight flickering, bouncing flashes of light across the area. To Cooper, it was like watching a horror movie. Any minute, he expected eerie music to fill the parking lot of the gas station.

He wished someone would yell end scene and the nightmare would be over.

Cooper knew that wasn’t going to happen. The knowledge this was all real made him puke. He bent over and vomited until nothing was left to expel from his body but saliva.

The gun in his hand felt like it weighed thirty pounds, but Cooper wouldn’t put it back in his holster. It was too risky. More of them might be lurking about, drawn to the sound of the shots he’d fired only minutes ago.

Eight spent shell casings rested in small divots in the snow next to his feet. The wind picked up speed, stirring the top layer of fresh powder into a whirling vortex of white. The sharp, cold shards peppered Cooper’s exposed face, making his eyes water. The wind wasn’t the only reason tears streaked down his cheeks and chin.

“This isn’t real. It can’t be,” Cooper whispered to the dead corpses on the ground. “God, Karla. I’m so sorry.”

Fear reached inside his chest and latched it’s cold, strong tentacles around his heart. Pausing to listen for signs of any others, Cooper’s fingers twitched with nervous anticipation. Hearing nothing, he blew out a huff of air, watching the vapors while they lingered above him before disappearing into the darkness.

The earlier, continual sounds of explosions, gunfire, and people screaming had faded into sporadic bouts of noise after leaving Steamboat Springs, Colorado. For hours, Cooper and Karla wound their way through the treacherous, twisty roads leading out of Steamboat toward Denver. Karla had been in a state of shock, alternating between crying and yelling while Cooper dodged stalled vehicles and mangled corpses.

The carnage surrounding him dimmed and faded out. Disturbing memories of how they ended up on the run for their lives filled Cooper’s vision. He leaned against the cold hood of the SUV and wept.

“Cooper? Honey, wake up! Somethin’s wrong.”

Every muscle in Cooper’s body ached from a long afternoon the day before hiking through the snow-covered trails. Even though Karla had a map they’d still managed to get turned around and ended up wandering for hours. By the time they arrived back at their vehicle, both of them were cold and exhausted.

Groaning, Cooper rolled over and snuggled closer to his wife’s warm body. He opened one eye and scanned the dark room, guessing it was close to dawn. “Go back to sleep, baby. We’re in the mountains. It’s probably a moose or deer foragin’ around outside. Maybe even a cougar out huntin’ for breakfast.”

Karla’s grip intensified on his arm. Her slender fingers dug into the flesh. “I know what animals sound like, Cooper Hollingsworth. They don’t scream like humans!”

The terror in his wife’s voice forced Cooper to open both eyes. Pulling Karla closer, assuming she was freaked out from a nightmare, he tried to offer comfort. His doubts about what she’d heard vanished the second several shrill, ear-piercing screams filled the dark bedroom. The screams sent chills up his spine. Cooper recognized the abject fear in the voices.

Fully awake, Cooper went into cop mode. He motioned for Karla to keep quiet while he eased out from under the covers. Padding across the cold hardwood, he reached the bookcase where his cell and gun sat. Snatching up his weapon, he moved over to peer out the window while simultaneously dialing 9-1-1.

“We’re sorry, all circuits are busy. Please try your call again later.”

Cooper heard the words in his ear from the robotic voice, yet they really didn’t register. All of his attention was on three women running through the parking lot. The new layer of snow and ice on the pavement made their attempts to flee a wasted effort. They slipped and slid across the ground. One of them fell and the remaining two scrambled to pick her back up.

The parking lot lights of the rental condos provided enough light for Cooper to see every detail. He recognized the girls from their long, bright red hair—the triplets named Margo, Margie, and Marie. They’d bumped into each other while unpacking their vehicles the day before.

The three young woman were celebrating their twenty-first birthdays in the awe-inspiring mountains of Steamboat Springs. The girls were beautiful, full of energy and spunk, and only a few inches shy of Cooper’s 6’1” frame. Even though Cooper was celebrating his anniversary with his lovely bride, he couldn’t help but admire their girls’ curves and sexy smiles while they carted overstuffed suitcases from their vehicle.

Margo mentioned in passing their boyfriends surprised them with the combined Christmas and birthday present of a week in the mountains. Margie had laughed and said the surprise was really on their men because they’d missed their flight from Boise and would have to drive in. Marie giggled while holding a box full of liquor, commenting about how the boys would miss out on ravishing their drunk girlfriends the first night.

Cooper wondered if the men chasing the girls were their boyfriends or just locals who decided to take advantage of three women alone.

Stepping away from the window, Cooper looked around for his clothes.

“What’s goin’ on, honey? Did you see anyone?” Karla whispered while turning the bedside lamp on.

“Looks like a major fallin’ out between the triplets and their dates. Stay here and keep tryin’ to call 9-1-1,” Cooper instructed while yanking on a pair of jeans and a coat. Sliding on his slippers, he continued. “I’m goin’ to help those girls. Seems like the boyfriends—”

“No! Oh, my God! Margo! Margie! Somebody help us!”

Double-checking the clip to make sure it was full, Cooper glanced over at Karla. Her big, green eyes were the size of saucers. Darting out of the bed, she made a beeline for her cell phone.

“Quit talkin’ and get! I’m on it,” Karla said, fingers already dialing.

“Give them code 10-17 and advise out-of-state law enforcement is on scene and armed. Don’t want them shootin’ me.”

Karla nodded while putting her robe on. Cooper turned and raced down the stairs. When he opened the front door, the cold mountain air slapped him in the face. How the girls were outside without coats on—and the men in only in their underwear—Cooper couldn’t fathom. He guessed the temperature hovered near zero.

Forcing himself to take even, calculated steps on the treacherous walkway, Cooper made it out to the parking lot. The first orange and yellow rays of the sun peeked over Mount Werner, but had yet to touch the valley, leaving Cooper to rely on his instincts while navigating in the dark. In the distance, the faint sound of yelling and the distinct
pop pop pop
of gunfire made Cooper’s skin prickle.

What the Hell is going on?

The screaming had stopped and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. Cooper’s heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline in overdrive as he rounded the corner of the building. He was sort of surprised none of the other vacationers were outside trying to help. He brushed the thought away, remembering he wasn’t in a small, southern town like Malvern. This was Colorado, and though Steamboat wasn’t a huge town, it was bigger than Malvern. Obviously, the big city mentality of “mind your own business” reigned supreme.

The bright lights cast from several security lamps in the parking lot guided Cooper’s way and allowed him a full visual of what was happening to Marie, Margo and Margie. All three girls were down. Their fire-engine red hair in stark contrast against the white snow. Two of the men seemed to be fighting with each other over one, and the remaining male had his head down on…

“No way!” Cooper whispered as his brain tried to comprehend the improbable scene. Raising his weapon, Cooper stopped about twenty yards away and planted his feet. “Police! Hands up and get away from them right now or I’ll shoot. This is your only warnin’.”

The man closest to him, the one with his face buried in the stomach of one of the triplets, raised his head. He turned toward the sound of Cooper’s voice. A sick feeling spread throughout Cooper’s chest. The movement was nothing near the fluid motions of a person. It reminded Cooper of several horror movies he’d watched with his kids—the kind filmed in a jumbled mash of shots where the monster lurched and shuddered with unnatural, inhuman steps.

Acid burned in Cooper’s stomach when he realized the man’s face was covered in blood. The wind shifted and the rank stench of bowels almost made him gag. Entrails hung from the man’s mouth and tendrils of steam from warm flesh surrounded his head. The man continued to chew while his hand shoveled more intestines into an already full mouth.