Werewolf Suspense (Book 3): Outage 3 (Vengeance) by T.W. Piperbrook Read Free Book Online

shelter? Maybe we should hole up somewhere. Those buildings over there are—"
    "Keep going."
    Her knuckles were white on the gun's handle, her lips clenched tight. As shaken as she was, Rosemary was resolved. Tom respected her determination. He curved with the road, bypassing a snow-embossed stop sign. The tires spun as they acclimated to the next street.  
    They passed several more cars, stalled out and abandoned. Most were small sedans, their bodies swallowed by the snow.  
    "What kind of car was Jason driving?" he asked Rosemary.
    "A Nissan Rogue," she said. "It was Ron's old car."
    "What color?"
    "Black."
    Tom envisioned the trail of dead cars he'd passed on the way to Colton's. None of them had been black SUV's.
    "It's pretty good in the snow," Rosemary said, as if sensing his thoughts. "Jason and Jeffrey should've had no trouble getting to the shelter." Despite her words, he could sense her uneasiness.
    They rode past several more commercial buildings—brick, square structures that housed manufacturing facilities. Tom was reminded of his own job during the week. Aside from his job at the elementary school on weekends, Tom worked for an assembly-line tool manufacturer. His job was to do quality analysis of the tools, ensuring they were up to standard. His position was repetitive, but stable. He enjoyed the company of his co-workers. Most were local residents that he'd known for years.  
    Most were probably dead.  
    The thought hit him with such force that his nerves stung. Tom found himself wondering if he'd ever return. Even if things returned to normal, he couldn't envision clocking in for his shift at the plant, resuming his inspections. His former life was as dead as the bodies he'd encountered.
    Soon they passed underneath a bridge. Next to the road was a large field, beyond which was the Plainfield Airport. In the warmer months, Tom might see a small aircraft departing or descending. Tonight the sky was empty. No stars or clouds glossed the horizon, only the gaping, ominous outline of the moon.
    Rosemary sat up in the passenger's seat, eyes glued to the sky.  
    "I've never seen the moon during a storm like this."
    "It's eerie, all right," Tom agreed.
    Rosemary stared up at the glowing round orb, her face illuminated in the glow. Her coat seemed too big for her body. Tom found himself thinking how frail and fragile they were, compared to what they were up against. The man who'd lost his head was proof of that. Soon they'd passed the airport and reached another road.
    "The Knights of Columbus is only a few miles away," Tom announced as he blew past a stop sign.  
    "I know. I live here, too, remember?" Rosemary said, giving him a grim smile.  
    Tom returned the gesture.
    They drove until they reached the town center. The buildings were tall and aged, the windows prevalent and spacious. For a second, Tom pretended he was on a simple errand, picking groceries up or getting his wife some flowers. It only took a second to determine things were different.  
    The town center looked like a crime scene. The storefronts were smashed and bloodstained, the buildings splattered red. A sense of dread burrowed inside Tom. He pictured a cordon of police cars blocking the road, counting the casualties. But the street was silent and empty. The cars at the side of the road were equally abandoned.
    Tom stared at the side of the road, catching sight of a pink patch of snow on the hood of a Chevy Suburban. A body jutted out from the curb, legs splayed at irregular angles. A block farther, he saw another body, this one lying on the white-covered sidewalk. Another hung limply from a fractured window. The person looked like he or she had been impaled on the jagged glass.  
    "Jesus," Tom muttered.
    "It's like no one even exists anymore," Rosemary whispered.  
    "That's what it's felt like, all night," Tom agreed, his stomach tight.
    Tom kept his eyes glued to the buildings. Despite the apparent vacancy, he sensed something deep in