Werewolf Suspense (Book 4): Outage 4 (The Reckoning) Read online

  CONTENTS

  About Outage 4: The Reckoning

  Title Page

  Part One - The Aftermath

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Part Two - The Onslaught

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Part Three - The Roundup

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Author's Note

  New Release Alerts

  About the Author

  Other Works

  Copyright Info

  ABOUT OUTAGE 4: THE RECKONING

  I'm at the hospital…it's over.

  When Tom awakens, he is greeted by law enforcement, medical treatment, and a sense of normalcy—all the things that have been missing for the last day.

  What Tom doesn't know is that some nightmares are meant to be relived, and The Great Storm is far from finished…

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  OUTAGE 4:

  THE RECKONING

  By T.W. Piperbrook

  PART ONE: THE AFTERMATH

  Chapter One

  Tom awoke with a start, grappling with the sheets. He stared around the dimly lit room, taking in the stark white walls, the windows, and the sterile cabinets. The beep of machinery floated in from somewhere down the hall.

  I'm at the hospital. It's over.

  The reality of his horrifying night came rushing back to him, replacing whatever nightmare he'd been having. His gaze drifted to the television hanging on the wall, then to the empty chairs by his bedside. He was alone. He glanced out the windows. Dull rays of light seeped through the cracks in the blinds.

  Was it night or morning?

  He blew a long breath and studied the thin outline of his body, tucked beneath several layers of sheets. He was drained, exhausted.

  But out of the cold, at least.

  He wriggled his hands. The numb sensation was gone.

  His leg still hurt, though. He winced as he readjusted, scratching his bandage against the blankets. The dull throb in his calf was a reminder of what he'd been through, a lingering wound from an unthinkable night. He'd had several stitches after being taken to the hospital. The low murmur of voices echoed from somewhere outside his room. He wondered where Abraham, Sally, Silas, and Katherine had ended up. There'd been other survivors, too, but their names were lost in the haze of a day filled with recounted horrors.

  If it weren't for Al's insistence that Tom stay at the hospital, he might've been out there, searching for survivors. He felt a swell of guilt.

  We'll handle it from here, Al had said.

  Breaking free of the blankets, Tom swung his socked feet to the floor. The lights flickered. The hospital was running on partial power. He recalled what the nurse had told him. One of the backup generators had failed, and there was only enough power for the necessities. Tom looked around for the nurse that had tended to him but didn't see her in the hallway.

  What was her name, again?

  The pain medication had left him a little lightheaded.

  He looked out into the hall. The police had situated Tom and the other survivors on the third floor. The night before, the rest of the building had been ravaged, the occupants dragged into the hallways and consumed. The bed-ridden patients had been easy targets for the creatures. The majority of the staff had been killed.

  There were only a few nurses left.

  He crept toward the window that stood between him and the hallway, peering into the barely lit corridor. Two female nurses talked in low tones, motioning with their hands. One of them was the nurse who had bandaged him up. What was her name? Kelsey. That was it. The other nurse was a skinny woman with brown hair. She was trying to remain composed, but Tom could tell she was still struggling with what they'd been through. He doubted either of the nurses would ever forget.

  He knew he wouldn't.

  Motion in the corridor drew his attention. One of the police officers—Officer Dickson—walked by and nodded. After studying the hallway a minute, Tom made a slow walk over to the window. He kept a wary eye on the walls, unable to repress the instinctive feeling that claws and mouths would emerge and attack him.

  Relax, Tom. It's over.

  He stared around the room, taking in the mussed sheets of the bed he'd left, a small desk, a television, and some cabinets and drawers built into one of the walls. In one of the drawers were his clothing and keys.

  He couldn't imagine using the keys again.

  His vehicle was dead; his home was trashed. He had no desire to return to either. Not without Lorena. He finished the trek to the window, treading lightly on his wounded leg, and parted the shade.

  He squinted into the murky gloom.

  The sun was nearly invisible. Daylight appeared to be waning. I must've slept the whole day. The snow had stopped. The parking lot was a tangle of snow-covered cars, trucks, and SUVs. If Tom hadn't known better, he would've assumed the hospital was full. It was hard to believe most of the vehicles were ownerless.

  He trained his eyes on a particularly large SUV. Several of the windows were busted out, the broken glass buried by the elements. The gaping holes looked like portals to another world. If only they were, so I could alter what happened.

  He leaned closer, inspecting the hospital building. The hospital was rectangular, with four main wings, but there were a few offshoots. He'd barely gotten a chance to take in his surroundings before being led inside.

  Two officers were at the front entrance, keeping guard. After setting up the survivors on the third floor, the policemen had divided into groups. Some had gone out to search for survivors. The remainder were stationed around the building. Two officers were outside; one was doing walkthroughs of the floor. According to the surviving lawmen, reinforcements would be coming soon.

  Cleanup would be painfully slow.

  Plainfield wasn't the only area affected; the surrounding towns had been ravaged, as well.

  I should check the news.

  A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts. He spun, untangling himself from the window cords.

  "Shit…" he mumbled.

  "Mr. Sotheby?" He recognized Kelsey's voice from the doorway. "I thought I told you to stay in bed."

  Embarrassed, he said, "Sorry. Just taking a peek outside."

  Kelsey sounded lighthearted, but he detected a hint of fear.

  He gave a final glance out the window. The wind knocked some snow from the outside ledge. The white powder floated by the glass, as if to mock him. He shuddered and stepped away.

  Thank God it's over.

  Chapter Two

  "How're you feeling?" Kelsey asked.

  Kelsey was in her mid-twenties, with dark hair, blue eyes, and a thin frame. She clutched her chart with rigid hands. She looked even more tired than when he'd last seen her, but it looked like she'd at least changed her uniform.

  Tom smiled. "I've been better. But I'm sure that goes for all of us."
r />   "I came by earlier, but you were sleeping," Kelsey said.

  "Thanks. How long have I been out?" Tom glanced around the room, looking for a clock, but couldn't find one.

  "Since about midday."

  "What time is it now?"

  "Six o'clock in the evening," Kelsey replied, confirming Tom's guess.

  Tom shuddered. Night was approaching, and the memory of the beasts still clung to his thoughts. But the storm was over. On top of that, he'd seen no sign of the moon when he looked outside, no sign of the beasts in the parking lot. The police were stocked with ammunition—ammunition to which he'd directed them. The parking lot and hallway were patrolled.

  They were safe. At least, the police told them they were.

  "Are you okay?" Kelsey asked, furrowing her brow.

  "I'm fine." He wondered if he'd ever be.

  "I'm going to take your blood pressure and your temperature. Is that all right?"

  He nodded. Kelsey stepped further into the room and set her chart on the table near the room's entrance. She opened a drawer, pulled out a blood pressure cuff, and walked over to him. When she reached for his arm, Tom instinctively pulled away. The image of the creatures—clawing, biting, and snarling—was ingrained in his reflexes. His nerves were frayed.

  "Is everything all right?"

  "Yeah, I'm just a little jittery."

  "I understand." Kelsey's eyes mirrored the fear he'd felt for the past twenty-four hours. He could only imagine what she'd seen. The fact that she was still able to do her job was commendable. "Can you roll up your sleeve for me, Mr. Sotheby?"

  Tom sighed and offered his arm. "I'm sorry. I'm not a huge fan of hospitals."

  "I can tell," she said, smiling sheepishly. Her compassion seemed genuine. "Have you ever had surgery? Sometimes when people have procedures, they get squeamish."

  "No, nothing like that." Tom paused. "I watched my father pass away in a hospital. He was eighty-nine. He took a fall and broke his arm, and then he ended up getting an infection. He never made it out."

  "I'm sorry to hear that. Nothing like that will happen. We'll take good care of you," she said. Her words sounded like they'd come from a script, and he got the distinct feeling she was trying to soothe herself as much as him. How could she do anything but that? She tucked her long, dark hair behind her ears.

  "I feel like I survived a war," he said with a solemn smile.

  Kelsey paused, lowering the blood pressure cuff. "You know what my grandmother always used to say?"

  "What's that?"

  "When life gets bad, it only means you haven't passed the test yet." She smiled, as if to will away her nervousness.

  "I like that. How long have you been a nurse?" Tom asked, making conversation.

  "Only a few months," Kelsey admitted. "I just graduated from nursing school."

  "Well, it seems like you're doing a great job," Tom said, though he had no way to know. Changing topic, he asked, "How are things looking everywhere else? I was going to turn on the television…"

  Kelsey shook her head. A cloud of sadness passed through her eyes. "I'm not sure you want to do that. It's not looking good, Mr. Sotheby. We're waiting for help, but the roads are pretty bad. We're not the only state in crisis, unfortunately. It'll probably be a while until we receive assistance."

  "How far has this thing spread?"

  "All of New England." Kelsey's voice was somber.

  Tom asked, "Does your family live in town?"

  She pursed her lip. "No. My folks are from Kentucky. As far as I know, they're fine."

  "That's good to hear."

  "Yeah. That's the only reason I'm able to concentrate."

  "How many other patients are on this floor?"

  "Thirty. The police brought some more in while you were asleep. Officer Dickson has been checking on us periodically. We're keeping the other floors closed. We won't be able to use them until things are…cleaned up."

  Tom nodded but didn't ask her to elaborate. "Were all the patients checked for bites?"

  "Yes. Some are seriously injured, but no one seems to have been bitten."

  Tom nodded with relief. He looked instinctively at his bandaged leg.

  "How's it feeling?" Kelsey asked, leaning down to inspect his bandage.

  "I'm sore, but I'll live."

  "That must've been some nasty glass you cut it on."

  "It was." Tom winced at his memory of the Knights of Columbus basement. He could still envision the creature he'd successfully fought off. "How are the police doing on the roads?"

  "Most are using four-wheel-drive vehicles, but a few are using cruisers. One of the survivors was a bus driver, so he's using a school bus to pick up survivors. We're running on one generator, as you probably heard. I'm not sure when the power will be restored."

  Tom bit his lip. He'd been through some major storms in the past, and it'd always taken a while to get everything reestablished. And that was under normal circumstances, without bloodthirsty creatures ravaging the town, killing the residents.

  Kelsey took the blood pressure cuff off and scratched numbers on her chart.

  "How's everything look?" he asked.

  "Your blood pressure's a little high, but I wouldn't expect any less, after the night you've had. I'm going to take your temperature, and then I'll let you rest some more while I move on to other patients."

  "Of course. I appreciate your help." Tom winced as she put her instrument down. His leg was still sore. "There're only three nurses up here, right?"

  "Yes. Unfortunately, none of the doctors survived. Hopefully, we'll get some help soon. If more survivors come in, we'll need it."

  "I understand."

  Kelsey retrieved a thermometer from the drawer, removed the protective wrapping, and stuck it under Tom's tongue. He envisioned the scene in the rest of the hospital. Although he hadn't witnessed the chaos, he pictured what the other floors might look like, filled with carnage. Thankfully, the survivors had been brought up in the elevator and had been spared most of it.

  He remembered the story he'd heard about Kelsey and the other nurses. According to one of the policemen, they'd survived by hiding in a storage closet. The only reason they'd lasted is because the beasts had run out of moonlight.

  "It sounded like you were a big help to the police," Kelsey said, giving him a warm smile. "That's what Officer Dickson told me. He said you had a lot of good information."

  "I told them what I could."

  "They appreciate it." The thermometer beeped, and Kelsey took it out. "Looks good. I'll keep checking up on you."

  "Thanks. I appreciate it."

  After finishing her procedures, Kelsey excused herself, and Tom watched her walk from the room. As much as he disliked hospitals, watching the nurse do her rounds gave him a sense of stability that he'd been missing for the past day. He heard her voice in the next room as she visited another patient.

  Tom sighed.

  He thought back to the night he'd endured. Just twelve hours ago, he'd been hunkered in the Knights of Columbus, waiting to die. He still wasn't sure how he'd made it. How any of them had. It was a miracle, one he didn't fully understand.

  He was grateful.

  Noticing an open door across the hallway, Tom got off the bed and headed for it. His hospital gown swung loosely behind him. He was tired, but he didn't feel like sleeping.

  He wanted to check on the others.

  Chapter Three

  Tom shivered as he made his way across the hospital room. When he reached the threshold, he stuck his head into the hallway. The nurses were busy with patients. Officer Dickson was getting on the elevator, talking on his radio.

  Hoping to avoid a scolding, Tom hurried across the hall, hospital socks gripping the marble floor. The hallway was surprisingly clean, except for dirt and snow tracks on the floor where the survivors had been brought in. Several nurses' carts were stationed nearby, filled with charts, drinks, and medical instruments. There were nine other doors in the win
g, aside from the elevator. Most of them were open.

  He kept alert for familiar voices, hoping to find Abraham, Sally, Katherine, and Silas. He peered into the room across the hall. A bearded man he didn't recognize lay on a bed, his eyes closed. He didn't stir. For a moment, Tom envisioned one of the creatures he'd killed in Colton's basement, after it'd reverted to human form. He shuddered. The man bore only a faint resemblance. He continued to the next doorway. The next room contained a young couple, holding hands on the bed. They nodded gravely as Tom passed by. Tom continued searching the floor.

  After heading down an offshoot wing, he finally heard familiar voices.

  "Abraham?"

  Tom peeked around a doorway and encountered Abraham leaning against the wall. Sally was perched on the bed next to Silas and Katherine, who were leafing through magazines. They all looked up as Tom entered. Their faces were no longer dirty and pale; it appeared they'd washed up. Despite their improved condition, there was an undercurrent of nervousness in the room.

  "This place is like a maze," Tom joked.

  "Shouldn't you be in bed?" Sally asked, with a smile.

  Tom shrugged. "I wanted to make sure everyone was all right."

  "That's nice of you," Sally said.

  "We're hanging in there," said Abraham. "How about you, Tom?"

  "I'm doing well."

  Abraham scratched his chin, which seemed to have sprouted stubble since Tom last saw him. His eyes were baggy and bloodshot.

  "I can't believe I slept so long," Tom said. He recalled settling into the hospital bed, fighting off the ghastly images. It'd taken a while for him to lose consciousness.

  "We checked on you a few times, but you were out cold," Sally explained. "They brought some more survivors in a few hours ago. There are thirty of us now."

  "That's what I heard," Tom said. "My nurse—Kelsey—said if they kept bringing people in at this rate, they'd have to figure out where to put us all." Tom forced a smile.

  "This isn't the biggest hospital," Abraham agreed, looking around the room. "Especially with the other floors out of commission. But there are some empty wings, as of now. They're keeping us close together, so they can keep a better watch over us."