Unleashed Read online

  Survival: Dark Times 2

  Unleashed

  Dylan R Johnson

  Copyright © 2020 by Dylan Johnson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  For more information, address:

  ZachEvans Creative LLC

  601 N Ashley Drive Ste 1100-93513

  Tampa, FL 33602

  [email protected]

  Printed in the USA.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be assumed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgments

  Abby, Houston, Ryan, Kitty, Robby, and Sarah. All these old friends contributed to this story. The fun, perspectives, and skills that each bring are invaluable.

  Matthew, a trusted mentor and friend who has selflessly loved me for nearly a decade. Your unwavering loyalty and love have blessed me and others more than we know.

  Chad, a Godly father figure to me. You’ve embraced me as your own and I treasure your commitment to our relationship.

  Shivam, one of my oldest (and wildest) friends. You’ve given years of laughter and dedication. You gave me such a good friend in Addison, so you both are definitely worth a shout out!

  Holly, a true friend. You’re an extremely hardworking, graceful person. I’m proud of who you are and what you’ve accomplished. Without you, I wouldn’t have Richard, Marianne, Lauren, or Socks!

  Evan and Luke, who are supportive and bring me joy every time I see them. Also, of course, Madelyn, my fun-loving daughter.

  Alisha, who has cheered me on in many ways and constantly championed this series.

  Morgan (MoMo). I can always count on your support, dedication to truth, and sudden laughter. Plus, you made the lattes that got this book written.

  Karli, who gets my humor and always backs me up.

  Beckham and Chapin, invaluable friends and brothers to me. People may see you as the same, but the truth is you’re distinct, genuine individuals with different thoughts, passions, and skills. I beam with pride over you both.

  Reed, Jaxson, and Big Baller Conner. You three helped keep me sane during quarantine, and more importantly, you all bring so much light to this life. Reed, you’re bold in not only your pursuit of the Lord and genuine desire to know Him better but in your willingness to throw anything aside for the sake of Christ. Jaxson, you’re real about what you go through and display humility not only in that but in how you submit to Christ. Conner, you’re one of the friendliest people I’ve met, embracing anyone and welcoming them into your life. Also, all three of you are pretty hilarious!

  Chris and Tyler Casio. Both are special to me. Chris, I’ve known few people as generous as you. Tyler, you have such a kind heart. You’re thoughtful and considerate to the point that it stands out in every conversation.

  Zach, who I’ve seen overcome many hurdles. I deeply value your thoughts and trust as you’ve let me in on your life and what you experience.

  Alejandro, whose head is bigger than mine. You’re pretty mean, but I choose to think it’s out of love.

  Lincoln, whose honesty and vulnerability gave us a closer friendship during quarantine and still impresses me now. I’m already proud of you and excited about who you’ll become.

  Alex, Kaity (Pooks), and Taylor (TayTay). Alex, I’m thankful for your love and maturity. Pooks, I can’t stop laughing when I’m with you, and you always have your friends’ backs (plus you gave me Rae Ann!). TayTay, you’re radiant in your love for Christ and others, including me!

  Wendy, who is family and has always supported me. Words can’t describe the fun you’ve brought to my life and how special you, Dani, and Cooper are!

  Abraxas, you grew up like my little brother and had to put up with a lot from me, but I’m proud of the man you are. You’ll always be family!

  David, who chose to be my father and who works hard for many people. I appreciate your generosity and outlook. I’m still mad about Army Men, but I guess Mario Kart helps. Also, you gave me Granna, Big David, Aunt Josi, Aunt Ella, and Gigi. I cherish each dearly.

  Amy, who chose to be my mother when she didn’t have to. You chose to keep me in your life and to give freely, demonstrating love and inclusion. Your strong work ethic and dedication to your children is obvious. I can always laugh with you, especially at your “witty” puns.

  Dedicated to my mother, Tara (Johnson/Heinen) Reed, whose beauty is not only outward but shows in the generosity, kindness, and compassion she’s given numerous people throughout her life. I am proud and grateful to be the one person who still carries your maiden name.

  I can’t dedicate this book to my mother without also dedicating it to a very special family member, Lauren Hathaway, who we lost earlier this year. Lauren’s contagious humor, love of life, and accent filled my childhood. She listened countless times and saw my worth. She never stopped loving her sons, family, and friends. I can’t wait to be reunited, but until then, we will always miss you so much.

  - Dylan

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  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

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The Ghost

  The buzz of the green light bulb echoed through the beige corridor. The smell of alcohol, appetizers, and rotting lives hit Kurt’s nostrils like a bullet piercing his skin.

  Kurt Jervada stepped through the new space left in the absence of the wide double doors, which receded into the wall. The entryway didn’t look impressive. In fact, it looked barren, only sporting a dusty pool table in the center of the hall. He paid it no mind as he approached the next set of double doors.

  Now, the noise increased. Laughter, shouts, and clinking glasses broke the barrier of the double doors. Standing still, he placed his hand in the center of the double doors and listened to the click that followed. The doors separated, much like their predecessor, and a new space remained. Kurt adjusted his chest plate and put his right boot forward. The stomp resounded in the large, circular room and killed the other noises.

  His peripheral vision gave him hints of glances from the patrons. Some laughs died and the clinking ceased as glasses rested on their respective tables. The smells remained strong, for fear couldn’t drive out all five of the senses. Kurt earned that fear, though. He didn’t know the name of anyone in here, nor would he recognize most faces, but he’d beaten some. Shot others. His face probably remained in their nightmares, but he hadn’t ever taken a good look at most of their faces, so why start now?

  He only needed to see the credits once he completed the job. He took a seat at the circular bar in the middle of the room and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the bar. Not much sense in getting comfortable, considering the torn cushion beneath him. One of the few seats that still had one. He tilted his head toward the woman behind the bar.

  “Kurt, it’s been a while,” Marla said. She polished a glass and slammed it down in front of him, throwing her head back. The Peorian’s long, blue tentacles that descended from her scalp flew out of her face and draped behind her back. Now, he could see her red face, complete with g
olden eyes and subtle, blue lipstick. “What brings you here, Jervada?”

  Kurt pushed the glass away, shaking his head and stroking the scruff on his neck. His face remained neutral. “A job.”

  Marla sighed, rubbing her left eye. “Come on, Kurt, I’d like to think that we’re friends. The Jade Sky can’t handle anymore bloods on its tables, heads on its walls, or—”

  Kurt cleared his throat. “We’re not friends, and I’m not here to tear up your bar. My current target has been stealing from you, so if you’re smart, you’ll accept my help.”

  His nose twitched as the scent of vomit entered his nostrils. He heard a man gasping for air as he hurled out his insides. Kurt didn’t turn to look, adjusting in his seat as he stared at Marla. She put her hands on her hips. “Everyone’s stealing from me, man, but what the heck? Give it here.”

  Kurt reached into his black chest-piece and pulled out the picture. He slid it over to Marla. “Pulled this off an Etionapa database. Old, but if my tracking is right, and it usually is, you’ll recognize the target.”

  Before Marla looked at the picture, her eyebrows shot up and her eyes met his. “Etionapa? You sure this is someone you want to fight? Even for a merc like you, dealing with the government these days…”

  She tilted her head toward a television above the bar. The static blended in with the gasps and shouts, so only now did Kurt pay attention to it. A pencil of a man stood on the screen. His black combover and his tuxedo didn’t make him look better, either. The pace of his blinks indicated nerves, but he restrained it for the camera. Kurt rolled his eyes.

  “It has been over a month since the Bombard was sighted on its usual patrol path, and sources tell me that planets are growing unnerved by its absence…”

  Kurt stopped listening and shook his head, looking back at Marla. “You’re relying on rogue gossipers for galactic information? I expected you to have higher standards.”

  “That rogue gossiper is probably in hiding so that he doesn’t get beheaded. The fact that report snuck onto local airwaves is a testament in itself,” Marla said, pressing her index finger on the picture. “This isn’t a good time to be messing with government business.”

  Kurt groaned. “This isn’t government business, but if Bettina has a problem with it, she’s welcome to find me and take it up with my pistol. Tell me where the target is.”

  Marla sighed again, putting her elbows on the bar and hovering over the picture. “This one’s sneaky. I’ve seen the face a few times, but she’s so fast that I’m never able to stop her in time. She steals food from the back once every couple of weeks and she doesn’t only steal from me. Merchants call her the Ghost.”

  “All it takes to see a ghost are open eyes and right lighting,” Kurt said, pulling the picture back. “If she’s stealing from all of you, then someone knows her location. Where is she?”

  Marla inhaled, which Kurt considered unwise, considering the air quality of her bar. The air quality of Peor, really. “Well, I…”

  Kurt tapped his fist on the bar. “No compassion.”

  Marla bit her lip and her eyes drooped. “We think that she’s using the sewers to crawl up and into our storage areas. She probably lives down there, but no one is brave enough to dive in and find out.”

  “Until now,” Kurt said, standing and walking away from the bar. He pulled out a small handful of credits from the pocket underneath his leg armor and tossed it behind him. “For your troubles, Marla.”

  He heard the chips clatter onto the bar. “Go easy on her, Kurt! She’s just a kid!”

  Laughter resumed, as if the anxiety of Kurt’s visit had passed. He faced the entrance of the Jade Sky, but he killed the laughter a second time as he turned to his right, walking toward an opening on the west side of the room. The opening led to another wide room of tables and drunkards, but even from the main lounge, Kurt spotted the lone door to the bar’s storage compartment. Best to cut an issue off at the source.

  Before Kurt could exit the main lounge, a man engulfed his vision, standing between him and the next room. The man stood only an inch or two shorter than him so Kurt focused on his red hair and blue eyes. A scar marked his left eye and a scowl marked the rest of his face. He puffed out his chest and raised his fist.

  “You still owe me for my eye, pal,” the redhead said, pointing at the scar. He waved his fist. “You think you can just come in here an—”

  The second the man’s fist neared his face, Kurt grabbed it and twisted. The main shrieked, followed by some gasps and exclamations from an anxious, growing audience. He kept his grip on the man’s wrist with his left hand and grabbed the man’s collar with his right, tossing him into the wall.

  He heard a grunt but no other complaints as he stepped through the opening and strolled through the next room. The patrons in this room had more sense, scrambling away as he passed their respective tables. Kurt kicked open the door to the storage compartment and stomped inside, briefly noticing the stocked shelves and boxes on both sides.

  The Ghost hadn’t stolen in a while. She had to return soon, and when she did, Kurt would greet her.

  He walked to the back of the room and leaned down, slipping his fingers between the bars on the metal grate beneath him. Only on Peor would a bar feed directly into a sewer, but considering the planet had no other way to dispose of garbage, Kurt had come to expect it as part of the standard layout. However, he hadn’t descended into the sewers before.

  He already knew that he would prefer it to the Jade Sky and the world above.

  Kurt winced as he pulled the grate to the side, causing metal to scrape metal. He put his legs in the hole first and pushed the rest of his body off the edge, dropping several feet and splashing the water below as he hit the ground. Kurt remained standing, examining the brown brick walls as much as the flickering lights would allow.

  The lights below illuminated the sewer’s walkway, drenched with polluted water and a range of trash. Judging from the flickering and gray color, no one had changed or upgraded these lights in some time. Shadows covered most of the walls. The smell of waste hit Kurt’s nostrils in full force, but he didn’t find it anymore disgusting than the smells above. All of Peor was a sewer; this particular area just looked more like one.

  Kurt’s eyes drifted to the shadows that surrounded the walkway. This might prove easier than he’d anticipated. He slid his pistol out of its holster and stepped into the nearest shadow, letting the darkness envelop him. He pressed himself against the wall, staying as far out of the light as possible.

  Now, he only needed to wait.

  Three, maybe four, hours had passed. The noise of the Jade Sky fluctuated, establishing a regular pattern of eruptions in high-pitched laughter before falling to a barely audible buzz. Kurt remained in the same position along the wall, clicking the silencer on his pistol in place. Best to keep this quiet if he encountered the Ghost during one of the silent periods above.

  Many mercenaries hated this part of the job. The watching and waiting. Ever since Kurt had started his career, however, he’d considered it his favorite part. The stillness gave him the closest sense of peace that he could know. The job negotiations, hunt for the target, and fight to take that target down all required exertion. An exertion that forced him to put himself aside and do a job, no matter what disaster that job might hold. Granted, that stood out as the biggest reason why he chose this career, but he liked allowing outside thoughts for a few hours at a time.

  A distant splash ended Kurt’s relaxation period. He extended his pistol and let it hover at the edge of the shadow as the splashes increased in number and volume. He counted six splashes per second. Too many steps for two feet in a small timeframe. The Ghost brought a friend.

  The gray lightbulbs illuminated the two individuals as they closed in on their destination. Kurt could only see outlines at first, and both looked shorter than he expected. One outline took the lead and stepped farther into the light, revealing a girl who stared at the hole in the ceilin
g. As she stepped closer to examine it, Kurt spotted white hair that barely passed her ears. Her hair looked mangled and her face carried a scar across her left cheek. Her green jumpsuit hung off her bony body, containing several large pockets.

  This didn’t match the Ghost’s appearance.

  “Kid, the grate’s open,” the girl said, carrying a gruff tone. She looked at her partner who reached her side. He only stood a little taller than the girl, sporting a brown crew-cut and tan clothing that fit his thin build. Kurt noticed no distinguishing marks other than a scythe tattoo on his left wrist.

  These descriptions didn’t match anyone associated with the Ghost. She had recruited help.

  “That’s weird!” the boy said, blinking. He sounded chipper. “You think the bartender is up there waiting for us?”

  “Not her style, but something’s off,” the girl said, stepping back and glancing around the tunnel. Kurt eased himself off the wall.

  “You know Peor better than anyone, Sem,” the boy said. He crossed his arms, not taking his eye’s away from the hole. “Should we chance it?”

  “I think that’d be unwise,” Kurt said, stepping out of the shadow and leveling his pistol in their direction. The girl, Sem, flashed her teeth and growled, holding up her fists. The boy’s eyes widened and he stumbled back, nearly falling into the dirty water. “I’m expecting the Ghost, so I’d suggest you leave and send her my way.”