Umbra Ortum Read online

  Umbra ortum

  The End timers series

  Q. ALLEN

  All Persons Fictitious Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  For permissions contact: [email protected]

  Copyright © 2017 Q Allen

  All rights reserved.

  Edited By: Kim-Lee Patterson

  ISBN: 9780999594728

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my wife, Charlena. Again, thank you for being patient… and very cute.

  CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Sophia’s Death

  Stockholm Syndrome

  Name That Voice

  The End for One

  Slither Eye

  Outside the Gates

  Radio Silence

  Captis Umbra

  Surreptitious House

  Umbra Ortum

  About Q Allen

  Acknowledgments

  First, I would like to take time out to personally thank all of my family members, coworkers, and neighbors for your inspiration. Whether it is online or in real life.

  I would also like to take a moment and thank everyone who personally helped me make this second book a reality. If you purchased or downloaded my first book, The End Timers, that includes you! Especially if you gave a review or comment online. It is very encouraging as a writer when others actually read your books.

  Above all, I would especially like to extend a warm thank you to my beautiful wife. You are gorgeous, smart, and kind. Your loving and supportive words are of great value to me as well as your up-front honesty.

  Sophia’s death

  T AMMY GASPED AS she sat up in bed. The nightmare of having killed innocent people at the fallout shelter replayed in her mind. Images of her fallen victims screaming in agony flashed over and over again behind her eyes. She could not block them out. All through the night, their faces screamed, cried, and begged for mercy.

  Relieved at the conception of the new day, she sat still for a moment, taking it all in, becoming fully aware of herself and the room she was in. Light from the rising sun shone though the naked windows. The songs of chirping birds radiated through the master suite. Small waves lapped lightly at the sands on the lake outside the window. The view from the bed was breathtaking and the room was large and spacious, with high ceilings that made Tammy feel light and free. For a moment, she let her mind drift back to the time before she joined The End Timers. Back to…

  Oh, no! Sophia!

  Leaping from the bed, Tammy ran to the door. She yanked it open, but was careful not to make a sound. If Sophia was still asleep, Tammy didn’t want to wake her. If the girl was even there at all. As she approached the room where she put Sophia, Tammy slowed down. She tried to calm her breathing so that she could hear. Nothing. Still and silent.

  Tammy clasped her hand over the knob and started to turn it. Gently. Listening for any moments inside the room. Once there was enough space, she poked her head around the door. She could see Sophia’s figure still lying there on the bed, under the blankets.

  Kill her Tammy. Kill her while she sleeps. She is trouble that you just don’t need.

  No, I trust her.

  Trust? You don’t know anything about her. After what you did to her, she will try to kill you. You have to get her before she gets you.

  Tammy couldn’t help gazing with compassion upon the sleeping young girl. Like it did with Keegan and Aileen at the End Timers facility, Tammy felt something drawing her to Sophia. Something deep. Something longstanding. A familiarity that caught Tammy’s attention like a tap on the shoulder.

  She did try to save me from my fictitious attacher in that parking lot.

  That was before you used her own Tazer on her and stole her car.

  Tammy reached out to stroke Sophia’s hair. She hoped that a show of tenderness might make up for punching her in the face the night before. She pulled back the blanket from the girl’s heard.

  “Sophia,” she whispered.

  She kept pulling it back, expecting to see the face of her young captive. But, all that she uncovered were a couple of pillows formed to look like someone was still lying there.

  She was gone.

  Tammy jerked around. Her eyes darted all over the room, looking for any sign of Sophia. She noticed a window on the far side was wide open with the screen pushed out.

  This is the second floor. Could she have jumped?

  This is why you should have killed her at the gas station!

  Tammy ran over to the window. From the corner of her eye, she saw a small shadow dart from behind the door and into the hallway. Tammy ran after her. Sophia almost made it to the back door before Tammy caught up to her, tackling her onto the floor in the kitchenette. The two began to struggle, and Tammy did her best not to punch Sophia again. Mounting herself onto Sophia’s back, she pinned her down.

  Looking over to the living room, she saw a lamp. She could use it to tie Sophia’s hands and feet.

  I can use that cord to tie her up, she thought.

  …or choke her to death with it.

  Tammy dragged the struggling Sophia over to the table where the lamp sat. Sitting on Sophia’s back again, she pulled down the lamp and removed the cord. She tied it around Sophia’s hands.

  “Stop fighting me,” Tammy shouted as she stood up.

  Sophia rolled over and kicked Tammy with both feet. Rolling onto her knees, she dashed to the back door. Sophia thought she could break through the glass, but she only bounced and fell hard on the floor.

  “Are you ok?” Tammy asked, half laughing.

  Sophia just groaned and rolled back and forth.

  Tammy, this is crazy. You need to be on the move, not babysitting some little girl! Kill her Tammy. Kill her and leave.

  No. I like her. She punches back.

  Tammy took another electrical cord from some other kitchen device. She used this one to bind Sophia’s feet.

  “There you go. That will keep us both safe.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Sophia sobbed. “I tried to help you.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Tammy said. Her voice was calm.

  “You used a Taser on me!” Sophia shouted back.

  “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have done that… but I really needed your car.” Tammy tried to reason.

  “If you wanted my car, you should have just taken it,” Sophia yelled. “You should have left me there. At least I could have gone home.”

  “Is that where you were headed? Home?” Tammy asked, trying to show some care and concern. As much as a kidnapper could, anyway. Sophia turned over and squirmed towards the door. She sat up and tried to get comfortable leaning back against it, though it had repelled her moments ago.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sophia said, shooting a glance at Tammy. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Were you on your way home, or were you running away?” Tammy pried. She sat on the floor near Sophia.

  Sophia turned her face away from Tammy, as if trying not to be hypnotized.

  “What do you care? You’re just some kidnapping pervert. You’re going to kill me anyway.”

  “I’m not going to do anything to you,” Tammy replied. “I didn’t want to hurt you before; I just needed your car.”

  Sophia snapped around. “You punched me in the face!
” she screamed again. It was almost as if she was trying to melt Tammy’s face.

  Her words hit Tammy hard. What did she expect? She was just a stranger to this girl. A stranger who had assaulted and kidnapped her. Now Sophia sat bound, in a strange house, in the middle of nowhere, with a dangerous woman.

  She is right, Tammy. You should have left her there. Now she is a problem that you have to deal with. She doesn’t even like you. I have so much to show you. I have so much to explain to you, to get you ready. But now, you have this albatross hanging around your neck. You have to get rid of her.

  I have to get rid of her.

  Tammy sighed sad and deep, then pulled a Beretta 9mm from the back of her waistline. She eased up beside Sophia, who had her head turned away. She took a deep breath and pointed the weapon at the back of Sophia’s skull.

  Sophia, unaware that her life was about to end, continued to sob. Tammy’s hand started shaking.

  “I don’t want to die like this,” Sophia whimpered. Tammy just barely heard her over the tears. The fear in the young woman’s voice was enough to make Tammy start crying as well. She could sense the cold, overwhelming terror squeezing around Sophia’s chest. Tammy hoped this would have worked out differently. She put her hand over her mouth to hold back her emotions. This was just something she had to do.

  Her hands were shaking too much. Tammy placed both hands on the gun to steady it.

  Close your eyes and squeeze the trigger, Tammy. Kill her!

  Tammy closed her eyes and put a little pressure on the trigger. She tried to block out Sophia’s soft whimpering. She felt like she was about to destroy a cute little kitten. Her hands started shaking again.

  I can’t do this.

  You must, Tammy! You can’t keep dragging her around.

  No! I am not going to hurt her anymore.

  Tammy tucked the Beretta back into her belt. Not knowing what to do, she tried place her shaking hand on Sophia’s shoulder. The girl pulled away, shunning Tammy. Now, she felt even worse. She didn’t want to kill the young woman. She didn’t want to leave her at the lake house. She wanted to make her a friend, but she didn’t know why. Was she always like this?

  ***

  The Keoni County Sheriff’s Department was the nearest law enforcement office to the site of the End Timers bunker. A large whiteboard sat in the meeting room. THE END TIMERS KILLINGS was scrawled across the top with a thick-tipped marker. Photos, words, and arrows pointed in every direction. Tammy’s photo sat alone on one side. Underneath was inscribed: TAMARA UMBRA – SHOOTER.

  Agent David Roland stood still in front of it. Arms folded, he carefully considered each piece of information. Tammy’s deceased parents’ names. Their photos. Tammy’s address. A map with lines drawn from the End Timers bunker to Tammy’s home. All the faces of the victims.

  A FBI veteran of nine years, Agent Roland came from a long line of agents. His grandfather? CIA. His father? INS. His mother? Some unnamed black operations agency. He always graduated at the top of his class. He was always a top athlete. His professional career was littered with honors and awards. Cases as big as this one came with his name already stamped on them.

  “Good morning, Special Agent Roland,” a voice announced from behind. “I hope you are finding everything suitable in our humble office. Though, I know you probably rather deal with the big city cops. County law is all we got out here.”

  “Good morning, Sheriff Blueford,” Agent Roland replied, without turning around.

  “Buford,” the sheriff replied, wryly. “Special Agent David Roland. It’s not every day we get to host a famous super-agent like yourself.”

  “I just do what I can,” Agent Roland said, throwing a brief glance at the sheriff. He wondered if the sheriff had insulted him or given a compliment.

  “Nah, you caught that one guy. Must have killed, what, 19 people up in Ohio? What’d they call him?” Sheriff Buford asked into the air. “The Psycho Rambo. Guy killed half the force up there in the woods just like in the movie, didn’t he? Before you caught up with him.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never cared for all those stupid made-up names,” Roland said, returning his gaze to the whiteboard.

  “But you took him out with, what was it? A hand grenade?” Buford asked.

  “Yeah, a hand grenade,” Roland answered without looking back.

  “Now, the part I don’t understand is the part about the hostage. He had someone’s baby with him, didn’t he?”

  “There was no baby. No baby, no hostage. Just him, an empty baby carrier, and a bag full of weapons.”

  “You threw that grenade right into that baby carrier, didn’t you?” the sheriff asked, though he already knew the answer.

  Agent Roland dropped his head and turned to face the sheriff, who took a step closer.

  “What I’ve always wondered is, how could you tell there was no baby in that carrier?” Sheriff Buford stared hard at the agent. Waiting for the answer he longed to receive since the case closed several years before. Waiting, as if the answer might slip past him some way.

  “Do you want to know the truth, sheriff?” the agent asked, peering back at the sheriff. “You want to know how I knew that there was no baby?”

  Sheriff Buford—and the legal community at large—all wondered what lead Agent Roland to throw a live hand grenade into a baby carrier. According to reports, the carrier was out of anyone’s line of sight. What miniscule clue, missed by every other law enforcement officer there that day, tipped him off to the fact that the baby carrier was empty?

  The sheriff kept his eyes locked on the agent before him, as if he might blink and miss Agent Roland’s response.

  “This perp had over 30 victims that we know of, civilians and law enforcement across 5 states. He eluded capture for over two years. He was a sick serial killer and we finally had him cornered,” Agent Roland said pointedly. “That’s how I knew there was no baby.”

  The sheriff’s eyes widened almost to bursting. The horrific reality of what kind of agent David Roland was shattered the clean-cut, upstanding image the sheriff and all the others had painted for the man. It was not at all what the sheriff was expecting to hear.

  The bright white suit and hat that had been placed on Reno by the media now lie tattered and torn on the floor. The man standing in front of the sheriff now was just a rugged and willing lawman. Relentless. Dangerous.

  The anguish he must have felt as Psycho Rambo picked off his fellow agents and friends. The fear and distress at the thought of the fugitive making yet another daring escape through the use of a tiny, helpless hostage. Sheriff Buford could almost see the agents sweat soaked face as he held the grenade and made that fateful decision.

  “Oh. My. Gosh.” Finally stumbled breathlessly out of the sheriff’s mouth. He took two steps back and slowly shook his head. “You’re just as crazy as he was. It was just lucky for you there was no baby.”

  “Lucky for a lot of people.” Agent Roland added turning back to his whiteboard.

  Gazing at the agent with contempt, the sheriff remembered the fear that gripped the nation. The endless efforts of law officers. He considered the victims that lie in the killer’s wake. Above all, he remembered what he said he would do if he ever caught up to Physcho Rambo and his disapproval faded.

  “I guess so.” Sheriff Buford conceded looking back at the lone agent staring at the whiteboard. He turned and headed somberly toward the door. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

  ***

  Tammy couldn’t explain why she felt so drawn to Sophia. Like a sisterly bond that had been established years ago. Like she was drawn to Aileen and Keegan back at the shelter.

  Pulling Sophia from the floor, Tammy helped her onto a chair at the breakfast table. She brought over some plates and cups. Without saying a word, she went about in the kitchen rooting around for something to prepare.

  Tammy, what are you doing?

  I am going to make her breakfast. I hurt her, now I’m going to make it
up. She’s obviously been through something and I believe we met for a reason.

  You don’t have time for this.

  Tammy put her hands on her head. She did her best not show her frustration.

  Why not? You had me kill all those people, now the police are all over the place looking for me. I’m laying low here like you wanted me to, right? What else am I supposed to be doing?

  I have a plan. I just need you to trust me.

  “Trust you? I don’t even know if you are real!” Tammy shouted, not noticing that she was speaking aloud.

  Soon, I will show you that I am more real than you are. Trust me, Tammy.

  “If you’re real, where are you? Why are you in my head? Why did you tell me to kill all of those people at The End Timers?” Tammy reeled off.

  Tammy, you had to kill those people. They were planted in your life to keep you trapped. Those people worked for them.

  “Planted? Them who? Why would anyone want to trap me? How?” Tammy rattled off again. “Why? Why me?”

  They want you because you are connected to me. Because I am connected to you and they want to control me. I have to get you ready to come to me. Then I can protect you.

  “What? Where are you? What do you mean you have to get me ready?” Tammy asked immediately realizing how loud she was talking. She looked over to see if Sophia had noticed.

  Her eyes met Sophia’s wide eyes beaming at her with inquisitive intensity.

  Oh, crap! Now she thinks I’m crazy… er.

  I think we’re way past that, Tammy.

  “You were just talking to yourself, weren’t you?” Sophia asked in shock. How could this situation get much worse? Having her own Taser used on her. Then punched in the face. Kidnapped by a deranged psychopath who is in the kitchen arguing with herself.

  “Nope,” Tammy said succinctly.

  “Who were you talking to?” Sophia asked trying to keep from trembling with fear.

  “I, I wasn’t talking to anyone,” Tammy explained. “I was just, just thinking out loud. I have a lot in my, on my mind.”