The Dead Chronicles: Dead Man Walking

Excerpt From The Preface: Explanation

Dear reader, understand something. As a reporter I was not an author! Also, as a scout, I am not an author! I do not possess author skills! The story you reading is going to look like it was not written by an author!

Excerpt From Chapter Eight: The Unsung Hero

Jason: "Yo, Breach." Breach: "Enter my man." "Jason went around a corner and put a stack of cash on the table." Breach: "You speak my language, friend but no build up means something big, I can't wait." Jason: "Came from the hospital." Breach: "Hope you're okay, you're one of my best paying employers." Jason: "The lung machines haven't been used in nearly a month." Breach: "Okay, people can breath, that's a good thing." It took a second, and Jason happily waited a moment. Breach: "Wait, it hasn't been a month since the prince died." Jason: "Correct." Breach: "That biotoxin was a lung thing." Jason: "Correct." Breach: "So they let the prince die?" Jason: "Or..." Breach thought a moment again. Breach: "He didn't have a lung problem?" Jason: "Correct" Jason let it all soak in. Breach: "What is the cash for?" Jason: "Crack the cloud, get the lung machine logs." Breach: "Simple enough." She began to go to work. Breach: "And if he didn't die from lung stuff?" Jason: "I guess we could start with the easy stuff, head imaging and heart monitoring." Breach: "Gotcha." After a couple of minutes of drinking cheap beer Jason had a question. Jason: "If I paid you more would you buy better beer?" Breach: "Nope, just more of that stuff." After another moment, she was stunned and pointed to her large computer screen. Breach: "Here, Light Mercy Hospital cloud entries, these logs, here, are identified as lung machine entries, they have not been used in nearly a month. You may want to take some screenshots of this in your device. You still don't connect to the cloud, right?" Jason: "Right. Did you just prove that Light Mercy Hospital did not use their lung machines in the two days the prince was there?" Breach: "Yep. Was it worth the cash?" Jason: "And so much more. How about the CT and MRI logs." Breach: "Just a sec." Another minute of cheap beer. Then she pointed again. Breach: "By the hand of oblivion. Here and here, the log entries from time the prince was there have been wiped. He died of a head problem. More screenshots while you can." Jason: "Definitely. This is why I love you Breach." Breach: "If you loved me you'd call me in the morning. You love what I do for you." Jason: "So true, did I bring enough to cover what you did?" Breach: "Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here before you get attached to me." Jason left with a very heavy mind. This wasn't big, it was monumental.

Excerpt From Chapter Eighteen: The Way He Rolls

When the prince walked up the stairs from Robert's office his secretary asked if he was ready for his appointment. He nodded yes. He sat down and waited a moment. A forty-eight year old, five feet eleven inch well dressed man walked in. When the door shut behind him he became nervous and he clearly did not know how to handle the moment. One is not normally alone with the man who rules the world. The prince motioned for him to sit down, which the man did while removing his sunshades, placing them in his jacket pocket. He tried to sit comfortably but the comfortable part did not happen and the prince paused to let the man figure out he was uncomfortable.

Prince: "Thomas Allen Roberts. Your father, mother and sister died when you were eight months old."

The man's curiosity was piqued.

Thomas: "I had a sister?" Prince: "Yes, apparently the orphanage never told you. Cynthia, she was two. You were kicked out of the orphanage when you were fifteen only to be discovered by Vincent Saldazaar, syndicate head and a man feared for many reasons. For some unknown reason he chose to treat you as a son and you became a stereo-type. On your sixteenth birthday you performed your first hit, quite successfully. Three weeks later you got a job to take out two targets and send a message to their families. You cut their big toes off and mailed it to their wives. You have been Tommy-Two-Toes ever since. Now the old man has died and the board is expressing its true hatred that it has held onto all these years, you are all but kicked to the curb now." Tommy: "With all due respect, emperor of the world, it's awful nice of you to care but if you rule the world I'm thinking you're a little busy." Prince: "Respect? Hardly from a murderer. That makes you a liar and I can make you Tommy-No-Toes."

It was only here that the assassin felt the truth he had ignored. He was in charge of nothing.

Tommy: "Apparently so, majesty, but surely that isn't why your people came to syndicate territory and 'invited' me here."

The prince knows how to read a situation. The assassin would keep his toes, for now anyway.

Prince: "I have a job opening I would like for you to consider." Tommy: "Respectfully sir, I have a nice retirement laid out." Prince: "How about if I can put you in charge of the syndicates?" Tommy: "I am fully aware that you are a capable man, but I do wonder about that ability." Prince: "If I make you the head of the coa you will be running every syndicate on the planet all the while bolstering your retirement." Tommy: "I am very interested in bolstering one's retirement." Prince: "You will make sure the coa does what I want it to do, gathering intelligence and capturing criminals, while keeping it's public image spotless. The syndicates will do as I instruct them through you while they pay you for the privilege of you convincing me not to erase them with the new and improved hole-makers." Tommy: "Better versions? Insane. And I can run the syndicates any ole way I want as long as they do the occasional job for you?" Prince: "Yes. Usually it will be occasional, sometimes it might get busy. As long as they mind I don't care what they do or what you do with them. You ever get tired of one of them just tell me where you want the hole maker delivered to. Just keep the image of the coa clean." Tommy: "Anything in particular you want done with the current head?" Prince: "Sounds like a syndicate problem to me."

Just like that, Tommy was a man with a new job and a smile.

Chapter 36: Waking Up Dead

Some of the flames were twenty feet high, at least. Fire everywhere. So much fire. Smoke everywhere. With the fire being what it was there was draft acting like wind so the smoke was being carried away. How do you measure quantity of flame? It was as if the world was on fire. And it was. Now, the thing about fire and flame is this, just because it appears to be all present doesn't mean that every square inch of ground is the base for flame. There are pockets of not flame. The animals were doing their best to congregate in those pockets, the predator animals were not pursuing the prey animals, they were panicking like the prey. Nature itself was being ruined by the fire. There was one such pocket of non-fire that the animals chose not to go to. It was next to a brick wall, the backside of some building. The flames had come from weapons of mass destruction which had rained down from the space stations. They created massive fire and unimaginable concussive force. Things were blown all over the place. Large things, not just small things. Fate had put much thought into this moment before it dispensed itself into the world and a collection of bodies had been piled up against the brick wall. Four or five feet tall, a monument to the mad ruler of the world who believed he was transforming the world for the better. The body on top, Robert, like those below, just lay there, not reacting. But fate is always present. He opened his eyes and tried to comprehend being instantly plunged into the middle of giant-flame-land. Ineffable. Once his eyes regained their ability to focus the extreme nature of his current situation became clear and this forced his mind into an instant hard reboot and a thought ran through his mind.

Robert, thinking: "Oh, that's why it's so hot."

He had a sense of "overwhelming unexpected". It interrupts the flow of one's mind. Given his less than desirable state, being able to react to the moment was a bit of a very big deal. Reacting intelligently, not so easy with the whole unexpected vibe making itself felt. The part about intelligent took a moment to kick in. And then it showed in his thoughts.

Robert, thinking: "Unholy oblivion! What is that taste? Can there be a worse tongue moment for a man? Oh, yeah, flames everywhere. Uh... uh... oh yeah, run. Holy moly, bad, bad, bad."

His efforts to run did not work well. He had the right idea but not the right body, it didn't have a mind to react to his commands. When he tried he fell off of the pile.

Robert, thinking: "Seriously don't get it. Don't get it. Got the parts, know I do, they are all reporting heat. Really, really want to go."

He was able to get himself up and kind of gather some strength. Then he realized the simplest of truths.

Robert, thinking: "Got it all together, nowhere to take it."

He saw what appeared to be a giant flame coming his way. This interrupted the draft and the smoke situation changed for the bad, smoke billows were now hunting him. But he did not cough.

Robert, thinking: "Breathing smoke???"

He finally persuaded his body to move, he walked toward the edge of the wall and noticed a door to the brick building. He went in.

Robert, thinking: "Won't be char broiled but might be baked. Yeah, that's the better option."

He stayed in the brick building until the largest part of the fire in the area died down. The next morning there was roaming room outside the building. He had not thought much at all during the night but when he stepped outside he saw how the flames had scarred the building.

Robert, thinking: "Brick oven prevented the flames from reaching me but brick oven should have roasted me yet I am not feeling roasted. And I can breath smoke. Is fate my friend?"