The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel (33 page)
Read The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel Online
Authors: Iain Rob Wright
Frank Liebowicz didn't know much about guns -
didn't have much call for them. But he figured if Muller decided he was going
to shoot, it would probably be quite painful and most likely fatal.
Muller held the gun like he knew what he was
doing, too. Not like some piss-pot gangster, but like a policeman in a TV show
- two-handed, one elbow bent, one nearly straight. A shooter's stance.
'What the fuck, Johnny?' said Frank. He wasn't
angry. Frank didn't really get angry. He never had.
'What the fuck, what the fuck? You killed Lowe.'
Liebowicz shrugged. 'So?'
'So? Fuck your so.'
'You Chinese now?'
'Seriously? Fuck you.'
'Johnny, that's not polite.'
'You think I'm here to stroke your balls? I'm
holding a gun. Don't be slow.'
'I'm not slow,' said Liebowicz as he threw the
small blade he carried everywhere at Johnny. Just a Swiss Army knife, and not
even open. A small, heavy chunk of metal.
Johnny did what was natural when someone throws a
small, heavy chunk of metal at your face. He flinched, reflexes taking over,
and moved his head back, out of the arc of the knife. For less than a second,
the barrel of the fat gun shifted upward, away from Liebowicz. Liebowicz slid
his left foot forward, driving from the right foot. His left hand knocked the
gun higher still, and his right hand, fisted, knocked Johnny - a big man
himself - out, and down. Frank's fist broke Muller's jaw, then, as his head
bounced on the concrete (sideways, not face first like Lowe) Muller broke his
skull, too.
Liebowicz wasn't an x-ray machine, and he didn't
know what was broken and what wasn't. What he did know was that he was in all
kinds of shit. He'd fucked up his job and killed the man who was basically his
boss. Maybe not his actual boss...more like a kind of line manager.
Supervisor?
On that note, Frank figured if he was going to
fuck a job properly, there was no point in half-arsing the bastard. So, he
stamped as hard as he could on Johnny's prone head, just in case. Big feet,
hard boots, and 250lb, plus a lot of heart and soul.
He nodded, looked at the two dead men. Nodded
again, picked up the fat gun and didn't look back. Later, he remembered his
little knife. But when you kill two guys hard like that, you don't go back for
a little knife. You don't look over your shoulder, not even for a second. You
pick up what you've got and you move.
Frank moved.
*
Way across London town,
while Frank was busy killing people, a woman watched television. The woman
watching the television (sporadically, at best) was called Dawn Graves. The
digital receiver underneath the television was a piece of shit. The picture
flickered whenever the weather was bad, and sometimes when it wasn't.
She seriously considered getting up and walking
across the room to do something about the God-awful reception on the digital
receiver. But it was that cheap hardwood flooring everyone thought they wanted,
until they lived with it for a while. Cold, slippery, and dusty flooring.
Poorly fitted, too, with gaps between the tongue-and-groove slats that would
catch bare toes or socks. Dawn's husband, Robert Graves, wasn't much use around
the house even when he was in.
Dark had settled in outside and Robert wasn't home
from work. Dawn wondered if he'd be back soon, or if he was working late, or if
he'd stopped off to bring her back ice-cream (this last thought was her
favourite of the three options). If he wasn't going to be long, she could wait
and get him to fiddle with the aerial or smack the digital receiver. If he was
going to be really late, she'd have to do something about it herself.
But it was cold outside the snug little tent she'd
built for herself with a blanket and all the cushions from both couches. The
floor would be cold, and her feet were finally warm.
She figured she could wait a little while longer.
While she waited, one hand on her big round belly, full of baby, Robert Graves
fucked a young, new girl from work in the ladies' toilets.
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FEAR ON EVERY PAGE
Apocalyptic horror
novel where it never stops snowing and something ancient stalks the earth.
Innocent family man is
targeted by a gang of sadistic youths.
Animals turn on mankind
and try to make humanity extinct.
A deadly virus is
unleashed on board a luxury cruise liner.
A young boy seems to be
possessed. But is he?
Apocalyptic horror that
culminates in a fight for survival at a hilltop amusement park. Say
goodbye to the world.
Apocalyptic sequel to
Ravage where the stakes are even higher at an abandoned pier. Sometimes
being alone is better.
Reality TV turns
deadly. 12 competitors but only 1 winner.
Nonstop Thriller where
the future of the United Kingdom is at stake.
Sequel to Soft Target
where a crazed doctor intends on infected the world with Africa’s worst
diseases.
Collaboration with J A
Konrath. Some things should stay buried. And guarded forever.
A haunted picture frame
that curses anybody whose photograph is placed inside it.
Communication with the
happiest place in the galaxy has just been lost. Time somebody went up to the
moon to check things out.
A-Z OF HORROR, Volume 1:
UK
US
13 gruesome short
stories in 1 terrifying collection.
Get Sam, ASBO, The
Final Winter, The Housemates, and Sea Sick at a discount of more than 50%
The Horror Survivor Box
Set:
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US
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Animal Kingdom, The Picture Frame, 2389, The Peeling Omnibus, and Slasher at a
discount of more than 50%
* * *AN SG HORROR RELEASE*
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Part of the SALGAD
PUBLISHING GROUP
Redditch
UK, Worcestershire
Copyright © 2015 by Iain
Rob Wright
Cover Art Copyright 2015
Stephen Bryant
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without the consent of the publisher,
except where permitted by law.
BOOK SUMMARY
PART ONE
~ELIZABETH CREASY~
Devonshire, England
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~MINA MAGAR~
Oxford Street, London
~TONY CROSS~
Iraq-Syria Border
~SAMANTHA SMART~
Central Park, New York City
~GUY GRANGER~
Lower Bay, New York
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~MINA MAGAR~
Soho, London
~TONY CROSS~
Iraq-Syria Border
PART TWO
~GUY GRANGER~
Lower Bay, New York
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~MINA MAGAR~
Mayfair, England
~GUY GRANGER~
Norfolk, Virginia
~MINA MAGAR~
Hyde Park, London
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~TONY CROSS~
Eastern Plateau, Syria
~MINA MAGAR~
Slough, Berkshire
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~TONY CROSS~
7 miles north of the Euphrates, Syria
~GUY GRANGER~
Cape Fear, North Carolina
~MINA MAGAR~
Slough, Berkshire
PART THREE
~TONY CROSS~
8 miles north of the Euphrates, Syria
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~DAVID DAVIDS~
Slough, Berkshire
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~DAVID DAVIDS~
Slough, Berkshire
~RICK BASTION~
Devonshire, England
~TONY CROSS~
Incirlik, Turkey
~GUY GRANGER~
Atlantic Ocean
~DAVID DAVIDS~
Slough, Berkshire
VAMPS
London, England
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
Takao
Tokyo, Japan
Monty
Mumbai
Nancy Granger
Durham, Maine
Hans
German Airspace
Damien Banks
Birmingham
Left to Darkness by Craig Saunders (Preview)
Plea From the Author
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