Wretched Culling: (Book 2 of The Wretched Series) Read online

  Wretched Culling

  E.G. Michaels

  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

  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

  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

  The Story Continues…

  Author Notes and Acknowledgments

  Wretched Culling

  Copyright © E.G. Michaels 2019

  The author has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified under this pen name as the creator of this work of fiction.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author.

  TITLES BY E.G. Michaels

  THE WRETCHED SERIES

  The Wretched

  Wretched Culling

  KYLE SIMMONS SERIES

  Before The Clock Strikes

  The Countdown

  On The Clock

  Time’s Up

  Every Minute Counts

  On Borrowed Time

  COLE HUTCHINSON BOOKS

  Gone Too Far

  Prologue

  36 HOURS AGO

  Location: Bergstrom Biogenics

  Philadelphia, PA

  Horatio Beeks wasn’t a weak-willed man, but right now it was taking every ounce of willpower he had to keep from screaming. He shifted his eyes left and right because his head and all of his limbs were restrained to the table. One minute he’d been eating the latest slop the prison tried to pass off as food. The next moment he was waking up groggy and strapped to this damn table. Not something he ever remembered volunteering for. Of course, when you’re a death row lifer and someone decides they need some guinea pigs for a top-secret experiment, it’s not like anybody is going to rush to your defense.

  Horatio heard a noise to his left and saw Doctor Bergstrom walking towards him.

  “How’s my favorite patient?” the doctor said with a phony, pasted-on smile.

  “Tell you what,” Beeks grimaced. “Why don’t you undo these straps and I’ll show you?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that right now,” Bergstrom said. He tapped the needle’s plunger and a bit of fluid squirted out the tip.

  “What the hell is that?” Beeks said as he fought to keep the sound of fear out of his voice.

  “Something I’ve been working on. I really shouldn’t say more than that.”

  “I’m going to insist you do.”

  Bergstrom chuckled.

  “I’m warning you. You jab me with that thing and I swear I’m going to get out of these restraints and shove that fucking needle up your ass.”

  Bergstrom made a tsking sound. “There’s no need to make violent threats, Horatio. We’re all friends here. Don’t you want to be my friend?”

  “The way I see it, Doc, my friends don’t jab some shit into me without telling me what it is.”

  Bergstrom stopped in his tracks. “You make a good point,” he said slowly. “But if I tell you, it could alter the testing data.”

  “Blind or control?”

  “What?”

  “Am I part of the blind or control group?”

  “Both actually. You and four other volunteers-”

  “Oh bullshit. You mean death row inmates,” Beeks interrupted. “Because I don’t remember volunteering for any fucking crazy experiment like this.”

  “You’re an organ donor, Mister Beeks. In the unlikely event that Dionysus kills you, then it won’t be for naught,” Bergstrom said. “We will simply harvest your unaffected organs and they can be used in other life-saving efforts.”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel better, then you’re failing miserably,” Beeks said. He paused for a moment before adding, “What the hell is Dionysus?”

  Bergstrom leaned in closer until he was inches from Beeks’ ear. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Of course,” Beeks replied. He estimated if the doctor moved another three or four inches closer, then he might be able to bite the doctor in the face. It wouldn’t get him loose, but it would quickly show the eccentric doctor how Beeks felt about being turned into a human guinea pig.

  “It’s revolutionary,” Bergstrom said. “Something I’ve been working on to help injured soldiers make a full recovery quicker.”

  “Hate to break it to you Doc, but your data is already fucked. I’m not injured and I’ve never been a soldier.”

  “Semantics, Mister Beeks,” the doctor replied. “We will simply inject you with the medication, make a small non-lethal incision on your arm, and track how quickly it heals.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. Now, are you going to cooperate with our experiment?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Honestly? Not at all,” Bergstrom said before plunging the needle into Beeks’ arm. The action caused the restrained prisoner to hiss in surprise.

  Beeks watched as Bergstrom prepped another needle and injected the prisoner next to him. The doctor repeated the process for each of the remaining bound prisoners. As he did, the room started to slowly spin and get darker and darker until he lost consciousness.

  Beeks awoke to the sound of someone screaming in the room. He opened his eyes and everything in the room had a reddish tint to it.

  What the hell is wrong with my eyes? He thought silently. He instinctively reached a hand towards his face. A sudden tug at his wrist stopped him and he immediately remembered his limbs were restrained to the table.

  Another blood-curdling scream sounded out nearby and Beeks turned towards the source. There was another prisoner who was fighting to get free. Beeks saw several staff trying to tighten the man’s restraints. Suddenly, the prisoner’s body began jerking uncontrollably.

  “We’re losing him,” Bergstrom shouted. “Somebody get me the crash cart.”

  Another inmate screamed in agony and Beeks instinctively turn
ed his head toward the sound. Dwayne Haas. A former blockmate of his. But what Beeks saw didn’t look like Haas. The man was thrashing on the table and there were strange bumps pushing out of the back of the man’s arms.

  It looks like a turtle’s shell, Beeks thought. Another noise to his right. Two more inmates started thrashing as well and Beeks saw the man he only knew as Giles had managed to pull his arm free from the restraints. The restraint was hanging loosely like it had been torn in two. That’s impossible to tear, isn’t it?

  A sudden wave of pain hit Beeks and he felt a scream leave his mouth as he bolted upright. He turned to vomit over the side of the table and felt two of the leather restraints break. Testing the other bindings, Beeks flexed his limbs and pulled. The restraints broke easily and he crashed hard onto the floor.

  The sound of his landing must have caused Bergstrom to stop and look in his direction. As the doctor’s eyes met his, there was a sudden look of panic that flashed across the man’s face.

  “Somebody restrain him,” Bergstrom screamed.

  An orderly moved to intercept Beeks. The man's movements appeared to be in slow motion. As he neared, Beeks threw a short jab which struck the orderly in the chest. There was a loud crunch and the man flew backwards, landing in a heap about fifteen feet away.

  Holy shit, did I just do that? Beeks thought.

  Two more staff charged him. Beeks turned towards the closest one and launched an overhand right. The punch struck the man in the throat and Beeks felt the cartilage collapse behind his fist. A moment later, he saw the man on the ground, clutching his damaged throat. Beeks turned his attention towards the second man who had picked up a metal IV pole enroute. Beeks saw the man swing the makeshift weapon, and he instinctively turned his back to intercept the attack. The blow landed with a loud thud like metal hitting a hard shell. Beeks immediately spun around, grabbed the startled orderly, and threw the man to his right. He was surprised to see the man’s body sail through the air until it struck a nearby wall and landed in a broken heap on the ground.

  What the hell did I just do? Beeks wondered silently. He looked to his right and saw two motionless bodies still strapped to tables. He looked to his left. Giles and Haas were missing, but he would deal with them later. There was someone else he wanted to kill first. Beeks turned his attention towards that person and Doctor Bergstrom immediately began to backpedal. There was a single nurse standing between the doctor and Beeks. The woman was visibly shaking and for a moment, Beeks hesitated before speaking.

  “Move or die,” Beeks growled.

  The nurse took a step backwards, turned, and then ran towards the red button mounted on the wall.

  Beeks bent his knees and leaped towards the woman, his momentum knocking her to the ground before she got halfway to the panic alarm button. Beeks instinctively bent down and bit the screaming woman on the neck. There was a loud crunch and he felt her life force gush into his mouth. As he swallowed her blood in large gulps, he couldn’t help but think, What the hell did they do to me? And why am I enjoying drinking this woman’s blood?

  A sudden sharp pain in the side of his neck broke his attention from the woman on the floor. Beeks instinctively reached up and grabbed the object. He yanked it out of his neck and brought it in front of his body. A tiny voice in the back of his head told him it was a hypodermic needle. Beeks growled and spun around to face his would-be attacker.

  A very startled Bergstrom was slowly backing away.

  “Calm down, Horatio,” Bergstrom pleaded. “I’m sure I can help you if you just let me.”

  “I warned you,” Beeks snarled as he stalked the doctor. “I told you what would happen if you stabbed me with this thing.” Beeks held the medical needle up. He watched as the doctor’s eyes went even wider. “Time for your medicine, Doctor.”

  Bergstrom screamed and bolted for the door.

  Beeks let the doctor get within three steps of the exit before he launched himself airborne. His shoulder smashed into Bergstrom’s torso, slamming him hard into the floor. The doctor tried to scramble away but Beeks immediately overpowered him. For the next fifteen minutes, he repeatedly stabbed the doctor with the needle. When he grew bored with the doctor’s pleadings, Beeks finally ended the poor man’s life.

  Chapter One

  PRESENT DAY, Lancaster County, PA

  The Hyundai Tucson’s engine slowly cranked as the SUV struggled trying to start, then failed. Malcolm Foster motioned for the woman behind the steering wheel to turn the ignition off. The dark-haired woman complied, and Foster took a step back, then opened the SUV’s hood. He saw some motion near the corner of the vehicle and noted that the woman had stepped out of the SUV.

  “Any idea what’s wrong?” Amanda Johnson asked.

  “I’m a cop,” Foster replied. “Not a mechanic.”

  “And I’m an emergency department physician,” Amanda pointed out. “Or at least I was until this mess showed up. When, pray tell, do you think was the last time I worked on my own car?”

  “Maybe in college?”

  “Try never,” Amanda said. “I’ve always relied on someone else to take care of my automobiles. You’re the closest thing we have to a mechanic in our group.”

  “Great. That’s like being the tallest midget in the circus,” Foster complained.

  “Tell you what,” Amanda countered. “You handle the next broken bone or open bleeding wound, and I’ll take a crack at getting this thing running. Deal?”

  “No deal,” Foster said. He turned his attention to the engine compartment and looked at the vehicle’s battery. One of the battery terminals appeared to be somewhat corroded. He removed the battery cable and used a piece of sandpaper to clean the metal terminal. Foster reattached the terminal and said, “Try starting it now.”

  The athletic physician slid back into the Tucson's driver seat. A moment later, the vehicle’s engine began to crank and then started. She bounded out of the SUV. “Great job,” she said. She offered a closed fist and Foster gave it a light fist bump in return.

  “Just a dirty battery connection,” Foster said simply.

  “Still counts as fixing the vehicle.”

  “I guess,” Foster replied. “The more important thing is we now have another set of wheels.”

  “You mean a set of wheels that the Reapers aren’t likely to be searching for,” Amanda said. She pointed towards the closed doors of the barn. “I’d still prefer to drive the Suburban.”

  “I think all of us would,” Foster said. “It’s a bigger vehicle that is better equipped to repel any potential attackers. Do us a favor and turn the Tucson off so we don’t waste any fuel.” He turned his attention to the still-open hood and began to slowly lower it. He started to think about how they wound up on this remote farm. He'd thought they were safe and hidden at his uncle’s property, but that thought was quickly proven wrong and they’d barely survived a major Reaper force that descended on them in the middle of the night.

  Barely is right. It could have gone the other way just as easily, Foster thought. You were supposed to keep these people safe and you failed. If you hadn’t gotten lucky, then a lot more people could have died.

  “Earth to Malcolm,” a female voice said.

  Foster turned his attention back to Amanda. “Sorry,” he said simply.

  “You okay?” she asked. “For a minute there, it was like you were on another planet.”

  “Just thinking about last night,” Foster said. “If I had planned better-”

  “You mean if all of us had planned better.”

  “This group was my responsibility,” Foster said. “Everybody put their trust in me to keep them safe and I failed. Watkins died-”

  “Stop it. The mayor died while I was trying to stop him from bleeding to death,” Amanda said. “There was nothing I could do to save him, and I’m an emergency room physician. Do you hear me beating myself up over it?”

  “He wouldn’t have gotten injured if the Reapers hadn’t breached the house,”
Foster said. “If I had known-”

  “But you didn’t. None of us did,” Amanda said. She gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You did the best you could with a limited amount of resources and time. Everyone did. Now we’ve got a new place to hide and avoid those things.”

  “You’re right,” Foster admitted. “I just wish it had turned out better.” After being forced to abandon Uncle Ray’s place in the middle of the night, the group had decided to hide out in a local park. It hadn’t made sense to try and find a vacant house in the dark. Especially when there’s a good chance they’d accidentally wake up a property owner and find themselves in a confrontation that was better to avoid instead. Once daylight broke, they began searching for a new location to use. It took several hours, but they eventually found another farm in Leola where the residents had been infected. They took out the Reapers and took over the place.

  “If wishes were horses, then beggars would always ride for free,” Amanda said. “Right now, we need you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”