Dark Days | Book 8 | Avalon Read online

  AVALON

  DARK DAYS: BOOK 8

  A post-apocalyptic series by

  MARK LUKENS

  Avalon: Dark Days Book 8—copyright © 2019 by Mark Lukens

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reprinted or used without written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (or in any other form), business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by: Extended Imagery

  Special thanks to: Jet, Ann, Kelli, Valerie, and Mary Ann—your help is immensely valuable to me, and I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate it.

  OTHER BOOKS BY MARK LUKENS:

  ANCIENT ENEMY – www.amazon.com/dp/B00FD4SP8M

  DARKWIND: ANCIENT ENEMY 2 – www.amazon.com/dp/B01K42JBGW

  HOPE’S END: ANCIENT ENEMY 3 – www.amazon.com/dp/B07G1MS6RK

  EVIL SPIRITS: ANCIENT ENEMY 4 – www.amazon.com/dp/B07L8KLXVB

  DESCENDANTS OF MAGIC – www.amazon.com/dp/B00FWYYYYC

  SIGHTINGS – www.amazon.com/dp/B00VAI31KW

  DEVIL’S ISLAND – www.amazon.com/dp/B06WWJC6VD

  WHAT LIES BELOW – www.amazon.com/dp/B0143LADEY

  NIGHT TERRORS – www.amazon.com/dp/B00M66IU3U

  THE SUMMONING – www.amazon.com/dp/B00HNEOHKU

  THE DARWIN EFFECT – www.amazon.com/dp/B01G4A8ZYC

  GHOST TOWN – www.amazon.com/dp/B00LEZRF7G

  THE VAMPIRE GAME – www.amazon.com/dp/B07C2M72X9

  FOLLOWED – www.amazon.com/dp/B078WYGMJN

  THE EXORCIST’S APPRENTICE – www.amazon.com/dp/B00YYF1E5C

  POSSESSION: THE EXORCIST’S APPRENTICE 2 – www.amazon.com/dp/B07NCZQTNR

  A DARK COLLECTION: 12 SCARY STORIES – www.amazon.com/dp/B00JENAGLC

  RAZORBLADE DREAMS: HORROR STORIES – www.amazon.com/dp/B076B7W252

  SLEEP DISORDERS – www.amazon.com/dp/B07XX9WVGM

  COLLAPSE: DARK DAYS BOOK 1 – www.amazon.com/dp/B07SCPL6QB

  CHAOS: DARK DAYS BOOK 2 – www.amazon.com/dp/B07TVYNW19

  EXPOSURE: DARK DAYS BOOK 3 – www.amazon.com/dp/B07TY5S1S8

  REFUGE: DARK DAYS BOOK 4 – www.amazon.com/dp/B07VR8KNJ6

  AFTERMATH: DARK DAYS BOOK 5 – www.amazon.com/dp/B0821PWVH5

  SURVIVORS: DARK DAYS BOOK 6 – www.amazon.com/dp/B0821QWTGB

  Contents

  OTHER BOOKS BY MARK LUKENS:

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  PART FOUR

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  AUTHOR’S NOTE:

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER 1

  Petra

  Petra woke up on the bed in the basement. It was night, the basement pitch black. The battery-powered lantern was on the table beside the bed—her only source of light, but she didn’t want to turn it on. Instead, she lay on the bed with both blankets pulled up over her body. She was cold. She was tired. Thoughts ran through her mind at warp speed.

  Only hours ago (she wasn’t sure how many hours it had been) she’d seen Audrey and Scott executed, both of them hung by their wrists, their feet dangling five feet off the ground, their bodies twisting in the cold wind, their broken wrists swollen up inside the metal handcuffs, the pain beyond excruciating for them . . . but it was nothing compared to the horde of rippers that came from the woods to rip and tear at their flesh while they hung helpless.

  The Dark Angels hadn’t hung Petra from the wooden beam. No, they had put her back into the bed of the pickup truck with Dawson, a Dark Angel who had held her head still, forcing her to watch the rippers feast on Audrey and Scott while they drove away.

  Petra could still hear their screams echoing in her mind; they had followed her from her nightmares.

  She had been dreaming in fragments just a few moments ago, more like memories—the horrific scene playing over and over again in her mind: Scott and Audrey’s lower bodies being ripped apart, knives cutting, hands like claws tearing, blood running in rivers, teeth gnashing and chewing. Two of the younger male rippers had climbed the thick wooden support poles up to the crossbeam to get to the top half of Audrey and Scott’s bodies.

  In the dream it had been like the memory, like being there again in that field: the sights, the sounds, the smells. But in the dream the Dark Angels hadn’t driven her away in the trucks; in the dream Petra stood on the cold, dry grass of the field as the rippers ignored her and concentrated on their food.

  “You did this!” Audrey screamed at Petra, her eyes bulging, her blond hair whipping in the freezing wind, her hands so purple from the swelling they were almost black. She had stopped screeching in pain for a moment to condemn Petra. “You did this!”

  And Audrey was right. This had been Petra’s fault. If Audrey hadn’t tried to help her escape she might still be alive. Petra had sparked the inspiration in Audrey, sowed the seeds of escape, the seeds of hope that had eventually killed her.

  Petra wasn’t sure if she had apologized to Audrey in the dream, but she whispered the words now as she lay in the darkness of the basement: “I’m sorry, Audrey. So sorry.”

  Despite the horrors, Petra was still tired. It felt like the cold was sapping her strength, draining the energy out of her body. And if it wasn’t for what Dawson had told her in the back of the pickup she might just sink down into a pit of hopelessness.

  Dawson was a little shorter than the other Dark Angels, a little smaller, his jaw angular under the scruffy reddish mustache and beard. “I can’t get you out of here right now,” he had told her, “but I’ll get the others at the store to come here for you.” That’s what Dawson had promised hours ago as they left the killing fields where Audrey and Scott had twisted and screamed.

  She had remained quiet and still as
Dawson told her his plan, whispering harshly into her ear, his hot and smelly breath drifting on the cold air.

  Could she trust Dawson? Was this another setup by the Dragon? Another test? Or worse, would she get Dawson and those he was working with killed? Would they soon swing from the metal cables, their wrist bones snapped inside the handcuffs as they were raised up from the ground, the metal of the cuffs sinking into their swollen skin? Would they make her watch that again?

  Dawson had said there were others like him, others like Audrey and Scott, others who wanted to fight the Dragon and remove him from power.

  Petra was sure Dawson spoke the truth about that. But she wondered if the Dragon already knew about Dawson and his cohorts. The Dragon had known a lot about Audrey and Scott—maybe he knew about Dawson’s plans too. She knew now that the Dragon wasn’t the scary monster he had pretended to be in the dreams, but there was also no denying that he had some amazing psychic powers. Could he read minds? Could he see the truths in one’s mind behind the lies? She couldn’t be sure.

  But she also couldn’t give up on the nugget of hope Dawson had given her. Maybe it was impossible to escape this hell town, and maybe it was just as impossible to believe that Dawson and his fellow revolutionaries might overthrow their own unit and get to the store to convince Jo and the others to come back for her, to come back and defeat the Dragon.

  And who was left now at the store? Kate, Max, and Brooke? Jo? The doc? Fernando and Tina? If the Dragon was telling the truth, then Lance, Crystal, Dale, Tamara, and Tyrone were all dead. She knew at least one or two of them were dead; she’d seen their bones and scraps of bloody clothing at Jeff’s house beside Dale’s pickup truck. She’d seen Dale’s paintball mask and baseball cap he always wore. So she had to assume they were all dead.

  Still . . . the hope burned inside her, fueled by her anger. She’d been ready to die earlier, ready to die hanging right next to Audrey and Scott, but Jacob had denied her that. She remembered the disappointment on his face, like he’d wanted to see her hang, to watch her twist slowly above the frozen ground, waiting as the roaring mob of rippers closed in.

  But she hadn’t been executed. She hadn’t even been hurt. The Dragon still wanted her alive. And that, as much as what Dawson had told her in the back of the truck, spurred the hope in her. The Dragon still needed her as bait; he still wanted to lure the others she’d seen in her dreams to this town: the man and his son, the scruffy man with the long hair, the muscular man with the crewcut, and the blind woman who had spoken to Petra in her dreams. Maybe the blind woman was as powerful as the Dragon was.

  The Dragon had called the people in Petra’s dreams the resistance. The resistance to his tyranny, to his dictatorship. A small group, sure, but obviously a group the Dragon was worried about. And Petra couldn’t help feeling that the blind woman was the key to that resistance, the one holding that group together, the one who could bring others into their group.

  Yes, she had hope. What other choice did she have? It was either hope or sinking down deeper into despair. And if these people were coming, and if Dawson was going to help, then she would need to do her part. She needed to stay strong, and if there was any kind of chance to kill the Dragon, or even hurt him, then she would have to take that chance.

  She lay in the darkness, a darkness so thick she felt cocooned in it, swaddled tight in the blackness and the cold. She lay still and listened. There were no noises coming from above the ceiling of the basement. But the Dragon was up there somewhere. And so was Jacob.

  The Dragon might visit her dreams again. He might stay hidden in them, waiting in the shadows and watching, waiting for her to reveal something important that he needed.

  She didn’t think the Dragon could read her thoughts, but she didn’t want to think about Dawson just to be safe. She didn’t want to get someone else killed.

  Little by little she drifted back to sleep. Her eyes closed, but there was no difference from the darkness of the basement. She saw the field again in her dream, as she knew she would. She saw Audrey and Scott hanging from the metal cables and handcuffs, the rippers tearing and cutting at the flesh of their legs as Audrey’s eyes bulged, her mouth wide open in one long continuous scream, like her jaw as going to become unhinged. She stopped screaming suddenly and stared right at Petra.

  “You did this! You did this to me!”

  CHAPTER 2

  Petra

  It felt like Petra had only been asleep for a few minutes when she woke up again. But hours must have passed because there was some light in the basement seeping in around the black curtains over the small, rectangular windows high up on the long block wall. More gray morning daylight shined down the basement stairs, illuminating the landing and the last few steps down to the concrete floor.

  Someone was coming. The door being unlocked and opened had awakened her.

  She sat up and threw the blanket off of her, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, shoving her socked feet into her hiking boots.

  The footsteps on the stairs were heavy. They were slow and deliberate. She could tell just by the sound that it was Jacob coming down for her.

  Petra got her hiking boots laced up just as Jacob appeared on the landing, washed in the daylight that flooded down the steps. There were two others on the steps right above him, two of the Dragon’s guards dressed almost entirely in black.

  “Petra,” Jacob said with his fake smile. “So good to see you this morning.”

  She didn’t say anything as she stood next to her bed, her stomach twisting into knots, her body tense. Jacob was in too good of a mood, which meant that only something terrible was about to happen. She’d known this moment was coming, figured it had to come eventually.

  “Over here, Petra,” Jacob said, his smile disappearing in a second, his eyes as cold as the basement air. He pointed down at the floor in front of the last few steps in front of the landing, like he was commanding a dog to come and sit before him.

  Petra wanted to refuse his order, but she walked toward him and stood in front of him. She wouldn’t allow herself to look away from him, to break contact with his eyes.

  “You gonna be good, Petra?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Do what I tell you to do and you’ll save yourself a lot of unnecessary pain.”

  Petra figured pain was coming no matter what. She wasn’t going to give Jacob the satisfaction of submitting to him.

  Jacob descended the last three steps and walked behind her, hovering right in the dark behind her, breathing on her. She swore she could feel the heat from his body, the heat from his anger, his hatred, his sadistic fantasies.

  The guards waited on the steps, just in Petra’s view from behind the basement wall that hid most of the stairs from the basement.

  “Okay, Petra,” Jacob said from right behind her. “Time to go. Don’t try anything stupid. Okay?”

  Petra didn’t answer. She climbed the three steps up to the landing. The two guards turned and marched up the steps. Jacob was right behind her as she followed the guards. She was out the basement door a moment later, still following the guards across the kitchen to the door that led out to the back porch. No one else was in the kitchen, no servants getting breakfast ready or preparing food for later.

  In the middle of the long screened-in back porch a sturdy wooden chair had been set up, facing the far end.

  “Sit down,” Jacob ordered.

  Petra didn’t fight. She sat down in the chair.

  “Arms on the chair.”

  Petra laid her arms on the arms of the chair. The guards swooped in quickly to tie her wrists to the chair arms, the ropes tight, digging into her flesh. They tied her ankles to the chair legs. Then they stepped back, fading out of Petra’s sight but still somewhere on the back porch, standing guard.

  Jacob was in front of her, the smug smile back on his face. “The Dragon has some questions for you.”

  “Why don’t you tell him to ask me to my face?”

&n
bsp; “Oh, he is. Don’t worry.”

  Petra heard the Dragon enter the back porch from the kitchen door. Even though he was a thin man, his steps seemed heavier than Jacob’s, whose steps were so light for his muscled body he almost seemed to hover an inch above the ground. Jacob was a man who could sneak up on anyone and they’d never even know it. But the Dragon didn’t try to sneak—he wanted you to know he was coming.

  Jacob backed up a little to the side of Petra, then moved behind her as the Dragon stood in front of her, staring down at her. He was dressed in the same clothing he’d worn at their dinner a few nights ago: black pants and a black shirt, but now he wore a long black coat, gloves, and a felt hat pulled down low. The pale skin of his face seemed so bright in contrast to his clothing—his skin almost seemed to glow.

  The Dragon didn’t smile; he didn’t try any of the fake shit that seemed to amuse Jacob. But his blue eyes were as hard as Jacob’s eyes were.

  “Petra,” the Dragon said, the word coming out in a rush of breath, almost like a weary sigh. “You tried to escape.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Scott and Audrey were traitors. And you went with them.”

  Petra felt like she had emboldened them to act, to take a chance, but she didn’t bother explaining that.

  “I know there are other traitors among us,” the Dragon said. “I can feel them.”

  “What you feel is your little town here falling apart. This isn’t going to last. When you take away people’s freedoms, it never lasts long.”

  “Traitors are expected,” the Dragon said, drawing out the last word in his northern Alabama drawl. “Many people can’t see what we’re doing here. Can’t understand it. They don’t see the greater good beyond the suffering at first. They don’t realize how much more they’ll suffer on their own.”

  “But at least they’ll be free.”

  “This is a battle we must win,” the Dragon continued like Petra hadn’t even spoken. “I hope you can understand that. And it’s a battle we will win because God is on our side. Destiny is on our side. I’ve seen the future, what it holds. I’ve seen it all my life.”