The Wrath Walker (The Wrath Series Book 1) Page 4

  The Wrath Walker held Ron high in the air. “You can beg all you want, but it won’t change what I’m here to do,” the Wrath Walker said as he pulled out a yellow knife from under his jacket. I saw the word Brimstone etched in black on the yellow grainy looking blade, and the smell of sulfur filled the room. Then the Wrath Walker plunged the blade into Ron’s chest, and dropped him to the floor. He turned and locked eyes with me, and without looking down, he leaned over and pulled the knife from Ron’s chest. He wiped the blade clean on Ron’s shoulder, and walked toward me.

  Just as I was about to reach my gun the Wrath Walker stopped me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Brandon Farmer.”

  I stopped just shy of grabbing the gun. It was clear that guy had no issues with killing and possessed strength like I had never seen. Even if I reached my gun it wouldn’t stop him. Ron’s gun was more powerful than mine, and his body armor stopped all six rounds.

  “Why? If I do, are you going to kill me like you did Ron?” My body was still on fire with pain. My spine had to be damaged from being thrown into the wall. I knew if I survived that encounter, I’d never physically be the same again.

  The Wrath Walker’s tone changed back from harsh to playful as he walked toward me and moved the gun just out of reach with his foot. “Yes, I am going to kill you as well, Brandon, for your name is on my list. But your time hasn’t come. There are four others in front of you that I must dispatch first.” He knelt in front of me and tapped me on my forehead with his index finger. Within moments all the pain that kept me pinned to the floor was gone, and I could move freely again.

  “What did you just do?”

  “I simply removed the pain from the injuries I inflicted upon you to incapacitate you so I could finish my mission with Ron without you interfering. Go ahead and move around, your body is no longer damaged, and is back to being good as new.”

  “How did you do that?”

  A sly grin slid across his face. “Oh, I can do many things your infantile mind can barely comprehend. I know you believe every word I’ve said tonight because you witnessed it firsthand, even though you can’t explain any of it. There’s a saying you humans have God works in mysterious ways. Maybe if you ask him you can find the answers to your questions.”

  I knew he was telling the truth, but I stayed still from all of what he had done. No mortal man could move or possess the strength that guy had. Maybe he really was from another world, and apart from that, he said he wanted to kill me. I didn’t care what he claimed or how he twisted old Bible verses, there was no way that guy was from God. He was more likely an escaped lunatic from some government rehab center in the city somewhere.

  He walked back in forth in front of me and continued to try and play his mind games with me. “I have always loved this time of year here in Black Castle. It’s not too hot and it’s not too cold. What do you think, Brandon? Do you like it?”

  His comment, much like his appearance and attack, had caught me off guard. “You’ve killed people here before in Black Castle?”

  “Oh yes, many times throughout the years. It appears the city has a real problem with its various forms of immorality and all-around degenerate people.”

  He had to be affiliated with the Amaras or the Riccis, or maybe he was with another mob family that was trying to muscle its way into the city. I had to find out for sure who he worked for.

  “You know Brandon, I must say I’m always amazed by the race of man, by how far down they are willing to degrade themselves and others around them. There are only a few good ones walking about the earth, but not even they are all that good. Still subjugated by their own fears and petty desires for their own lives that vanish as quickly as a puff of smoke. You know what I’m talking about. You’ve had the same thoughts as I have on this subject. The only difference is I’m bold enough to say them out loud. Still, like you, I hope to be proven wrong by the race of man.”

  I pushed myself up to a seated position against the wall. His words chilled me to the core because thoughts like that had crossed my mind a few times in years past. But they seemed to be my fixation as of late. Every time I tracked down a cheating spouse, I hoped to God they were really doing what they told their significant other they were doing. I had been wrong on that bet every time, but I had more pressing matters at hand to deal with.

  “You said I’m on your list. Are you going to kill me now?”

  The Wrath Walker looked at his watch. “No, you’re not next on my list.”

  “Where do I rank on that if you don’t mind me asking, and who else are you planning to kill?” I was horrified of the situation I now faced.

  He smiled and waved his index finger back and forth in a disapproving motion. “Like I said before, Brandon, there are four others ahead of you. I will tell you that you are the last name on my list.”

  “So, I’ve got some time to try and save myself then. That’s good to know,” I quipped back sarcastically.

  “I could tell you who the ones ahead of you are, but then I’d rob you of using those amazing detective skills you worked so hard to develop and refine. After all, you still read all of those law books to keep you sharp when so many discarded those study materials the moment they discover they passed their detective exam. Oh no, no, no. We wouldn’t want that now, would we? However, I am not without compassion, so I will give you a clue as to who my targets are besides you. They are your dying friend’s closest four associates. The first being the one with the least authority and the fourth being the one with the greatest amount of authority in the city of Black Castle.”

  “Sounds like an elite group of scumbags, but how did I earn a spot on your prized list, Mr. Walker? I’m nothing like Ron or whoever he associates with these days.”

  “Come now, Brandon,” he said with an amused smile. “Please don’t call me, Mr. Walker, it sounds too formal. Please just call me Wrath, for that is what I am, and I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the next few days. As to your specific sins you have committed that placed you on my list, well that’s something you will also have to discover on your own. I’m not going to spoon feed you all the answers, but make no mistake, you are not innocent in all of this. Perhaps you should do some deep introspective searching to find the evils you have committed in your life.”

  Wrath turned to leave, but I still had one question I needed to ask him. “How do I know you’re really what you say you are, and not just another wacked out mob hit man?”

  Wrath stopped with his back to me and turned his head to shoot me a sideways glance. “You don’t, but in time you will come to accept and believe who I am and why I am here. By then it may be too late for you. Besides, it’s time for you to say goodbye to your friend on the floor over there, and I have a schedule to keep.”

  Ron groaned in pain for the first time since he was stabbed. I looked over at him, and then back toward Wrath, but he was gone. He was nowhere to be found, and I didn’t hear any doors open or close. I’d have to figure that one out later as I got up and grabbed my gun off the floor and ran to Ron who was soaked in a pool of his own blood. He looked at me, and the look on his face appeared to be signaling for help. But then he released his last labored breath, and in that moment, all the life drained from his eyes.

  Ron was gone.

  I slumped back against the island in the kitchen, filled with mixed emotions as tears lined the corners of my eyes. Ron had once been like a surrogate father to me after mine passed, but he was a vicious, selfish, brutal killer of a man who only cared about himself. He got what he deserved in the end, and that Wrath guy was going to kill four of Ron’s friends and then me. I wanted to get up and leave, and part of me wondered why the cops weren’t already there. Surely someone heard Ron fire his gun, but what if Wrath somehow stopped people from hearing the sounds with some other type of super ability he possessed? He had severely injured and seemingly healed me within a matter of minutes.

  Whatever the reason, I knew I couldn’t leav
e the scene of a crime, and the longer I waited to call the cops, the guiltier I looked. On top of that, my DNA was all over the place. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed 911 and told them I just witnessed a murder. They told me not to leave or tamper with the scene in any way. I stood and put my phone away and surveyed the scene for some kind of clue to let me know who Wrath really was before the cops showed up.

  There was Ron’s dead body on the floor, the broken wall Wrath pushed me into, and the six flattened bullets scattered on the floor. Wrath had to have already been hidden somewhere in the house, and that must have been how he attacked us off guard. I still didn’t fully buy the crazy story that he was the embodiment of God’s wrath, but he possessed abilities like I had never seen before. His speed and strength were not physically possible for his size.

  Wrath said his life could be summed up with Ephesians chapter five, verse six. I’d had no idea how that applied to me or who the other four targets were. I looked all around the kitchen and the living room, and I didn’t see one picture with anyone that could be a family member or friend. If I started looking through everything, it would also make me look guilty, and everyone already knew how much I hated Ron. Either way, it was going to be a hard story to sell, and even I found it hard to believe everything I had seen that night.

  The only thing left to do was to go over it all in my head repeatedly for the police report, and for my own investigation. Suddenly, red and blue lights appeared through the front windows, and I steadied myself for the long night of questioning ahead of me.

  Chapter Four

  Brandon Farmer

  The City of Black Castle

  I OPENED THE DOOR TO two young officers who were seemingly unfazed by the scene before them. One immediately checked on Ron and called for an ambulance. The other sat with me at the kitchen table and took my statement of what happened. He looked at me like I was crazy when I told him everything. Soon the place was filled with CSIs and other officers who documented everything while the others searched every inch of the house. I still hadn’t seen a detective show up on the scene, and I hoped it was anyone but her. Just as I finished giving my statement, Lizzie walked into Ron’s house. I had discretely kept up with Lizzie and her career after my fall from grace, and she had risen up quickly in the ranks in the precinct. She had successfully investigated and arrested the remaining Riccis that didn’t get killed or flee the city after Ron had helped the Amaras destroy their empire. Now, many of the few remaining Riccis rotted away in various prisons all around the United States to make it harder for them to try and communicate with people on the outside in order to rebuild their network of crime.

  Lizzie slowly and carefully looked around as she took a visual inventory of every detail at the scene, and then she locked eyes with me. “I should have known when I saw the address you would somehow be wrapped up in all of this.” Her look my way was of total and utter contempt. She walked up to me and the officer at the table.

  My heart skipped a beat as she walked toward me. The overhead lights shimmered off her silky black hair and thin leather jacket. She stood at five foot five and was a force to be reckoned with due to her dedication to the gym. Her beautiful brown eyes pierced right through me, and the cruel way she looked at me brought back all the feelings from the moment she ended our relationship.

  I cleared my throat and tried my best to look at her in a way that didn’t indicate I was dying inside. “Hello, Lizzie, how are you?”

  “I do not go by that name anymore, Brandon. My name is Detective Elizabeth to you, and you will address me as such,” she said in a stern voice that commanded respect. Even the officer who took my statement looked intimidated by her verbal show of force.

  “I’m sorry, Detective Elizabeth, I didn’t mean you any disrespect.”

  “Well, I see you’re here with a gun. Did you finally snap and kill Ron? Seeing how you blamed him for losing your job and all your other problems instead of yourself where it squarely belongs.”

  Her words caused a flame to well up in me, as I looked directly into her cold brown eyes. “I didn’t kill Ron. Yes, I brought my gun, but I never fired it. Once you get a moment to check the body, you’ll see he died from a single stab wound to the chest there, super cop. I thought detectives were supposed to look at all the evidence and facts of the case before they started assigning guilt. After all, aren’t people still innocent until proven guilty in this country, Detective Elizabeth?”

  She seethed with anger at the dig of calling her super cop, and I knew she wanted to lay into me, but she kept her emotions in check like a good cop. She looked at the tablet the officer had written on. “Has Mr. Farmer completed giving his statement?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Good. Would you please take Mr. Farmer to the precinct to wait for me to question him further as soon as I’m done gathering and analyzing all the evidence and facts here?” She glared my way. “That is what a super cop does, not that Mr. Farmer here would know anything about that.”

  “Yes ma’am, I’ll take him now.” The officer stood and led me to the door.

  “Officer, aren’t you forgetting something?” Elizabeth called out.

  “What’s that, detective?”

  “Mr. Farmer needs to be placed in handcuffs since he is at the moment the only suspect to this murder investigation.”

  “Yes ma’am.” The young officer asked me to place my hands behind my back.

  “Come on, is this really necessary?”

  Lizzie turned her back to me as I was handcuffed and led out.

  She never gave me a second look.

  WHEN I GOT TO THE STATION, I was greeted by angry looks and nasty comments uttered to me by several officers as I passed them on my way to the interrogation room. The same room I had used numerous times in the past as an officer of the law, but now I was on the other side of the questioning. I waited in the interrogation room for over an hour and a half by myself in an emotional mess as I continued to relive the night’s events. Besides seeing Ron killed in front of me, I was overtaken with grief from seeing Lizzie and the look of pure disgust she gave me. Despair only grew at the thought of her coming through the door and looking at me that way again. I would literally have done anything to have her back, but she had moved on, and I seemed perpetually stuck in my feelings of hopelessness. I wanted to believe things would get better, but it seemed I was destined to be forever tormented for the misdeeds I unknowingly perpetrated.

  I pushed it all down inside like I had done so many times before, so I’d be able to function when Lizzie entered the room.

  While I sat there, I thought about how much of the real story I would actually tell Lizzie. The officer at the scene recorded a short statement of what happened, but I was in the room where I was supposed to give great detail of the events of the evening. I had to figure out what I would and wouldn’t share, and then I had to keep consistent with that story. I needed to find out who that Wrath guy really was, why he killed Ron, and why he wanted to kill four others and myself.

  As Lizzie walked in, it felt like a searing hot knife slid through my heart and then twisted all around my insides. In that moment I decided to tell her everything, except for the part about me being a target on Wrath’s list of death. If she knew, she’d have me locked down in police protection, and I had a killer to find and stop. She sat down at the table with her standard notebook and pen and cleared her throat. I guessed old habits really did die hard, because she started every interrogation like that as a way to make the person feel somewhat at ease so they would let their guard down.

  “Look, Brandon, you know how this works. I’m supposed to come in here and make small talk with you, so you will relax and trust me enough to talk and tell me everything you know. How about we cut through all of the gimmicks, and you just tell me what happened, okay?”

  As I looked at her, I saw for the first time how she truly hated me as much as I had hated Ron. She hadn’t gotten over the pain I had caused her
from when I repeatedly brushed off her attempts to warn me about Ron’s illegal behavior.

  “Yes, I agree, I think that would be the best course of action here.”

  She flashed a sarcastic smile and readied her pen to write. “Great, so please tell me about all the events of the evening, and exactly how Ron Horn died with you in the room.”

  “Ron called me shortly after five o’clock this evening, and he sounded really spooked by something. He said he believed that someone was after him. I could tell from the fear in his voice that he truly believed that someone was trying to kill him, and he begged me to come over so he could tell me in person.”

  “Why was he so adamant on you coming over?”

  “He said he didn’t have anyone else he could call for help, and he knew that I was a good guy who would actually help him. However, he believed the Riccis had been following him over the past couple of days and were coming after him to kill him. Once they got him then they would come after me because...”

  “People think you two are nothing more than a pair of dirty cops who got away with doing terrible and illegal things.”

  I nodded. “Yep, that’d be the reason why, but I’m innocent remember? I wasn’t doing the things Ron was, and I’m not going to sit here listening to your passive aggressive comments anymore, Detective Elizabeth.”

  She smiled in victory because she knew her comment had hit its intended mark. “You’re right, you were just his dim-witted puppet in his schemes. Please continue, Mr. Farmer.”

  I bit my lower lip for a second before I continued on. She enjoyed the fact she was getting to me. “Well, I decided against my better judgement, and I drove to Ron’s house. I constantly checked to make sure I wasn’t being followed myself just in case I was being watched. I brought my handgun to protect myself, and once the people in the lab check it, they will see it hasn’t been fired in months.”