Dead Opportunities: Book 2

A New World Rises

Chapter 12: Tables turned

Slowly, and painfully, the world seemed to come back, although it took a moment to register. Craig could swear his eyes were open, yet he couldn't see, but it took a moment to remember it was the middle of the night and he was lying cold and uncomfortable in the brush of a small forest.

With a seemingly Herculean effort, he managed to rise up and sit properly, bracing against a tree log. His lungs were burning and his head pounding, but he had presence of mind to check his watch.

1:22am.

Only ten minutes had passed since he checked his watch last, just before the bullets rained down at the Fisherman.

Helen.

They had Helen.

Was she even alive?

Goddamnit! With a start he shot up to his feet and instantly regretted it. Everything went multi-coloured and he collapsed down against in a light-headed stupor, his hands digging into the dirt feeling as though a thousand miles away.

Willing himself to stay awake, the flashing colours faded and everything came back into to focus again in the dark, his face and head feeling warmer as the blood pumped back up again.

Taking his time, but unaware of the noise he was making, he slowly planted his feet and rose up, steadying himself against a tree as his eyes felt they would pop out of his skull. Reaching idly into his pocket, he felt for the headache tablets that were still there and clumsily popped two more and dry swallowed them down. He didn't know whether it was some sort of placebo effect or the tablets actually working at unnatural speed, but his headache already started to subside.

Slowly, he stepped forward, eyeing the stars that glowed beyond the black tree canopy overhead, providing just enough light to see through the brush ahead and the log fence he remembered hurdling before when he sprinted in.

Slowly and carefully, searching out his feet looking for quiet steps amongst the twigs and dry leaves, he stepped forward back towards town as vision of a terrified Helen being grabbed by black spectral hands and pulled down into darkness assaulted him and raise his heart rate, flush with rising anger.

Those bastards.

oooo00oooo

"Yeah, she's pretty fuckable, aye?"

"Nice tits! I'm first."

"Fuck off! I'm first!

"No, I'm first."

"I'm first!"

"Fine. I got a solution. We'll spit roast her. I'll fuck her throat, you fuck her arse. Does that work for you?"

"Ew! Fuck you! Get your own bitch. I'm not getting my dick out in front you, ya faggot!"

"Jesus zombie Christ! Fine, I'll let you go first, but you gotta give me a week's worth of smokes."

"Alright fine, just piss off, I'm horny and she's begging for it!"

"Fine, have fun, ya bastard."

The young man stepped outside, somewhat grateful to get away from his repugnant partner in crime. He hated working with him, his constant griping and selfish nature always meant he got in the way. Despite his whining, or maybe because of it, he wasn't even that good at his job anyway. He couldn't run for shit and was a crap shot. More than once, he had to cover for him when one of those undead freaks almost got him. Maybe next time I'll let 'em get him. He can get some zombie bastard smoking his cock with rotten teeth, instead. See if he likes that.

He reached down to grab a cigarette from his vest pocket, fingering the paper tubing between his thumb and index finger, trying to remember where he kept his lighter, when he remembered his partner had it.

Fucking mooch!

Irritated and cold, he turned and headed back inside the small house to find him and steal his lighter back. Hang on, it's not stealing when it's mine!

Stepping through the doorways, he was slightly interested that he heard nothing beyond the closed bedroom door in front of him. Maybe he's taking things slow, probably still feeling up this girl's tits, taking his time.

Greedy fucker.

He reached down for the door handle and shoved the door open, "Phil, you selfish bas-"

Frozen midsentence, he had just enough time to register Phil's eviscerated and blood soaked dead body before a sharp knife penetrated through his face and stuck out of the back of his head. His assassin a blurred figure, an outline of a man only, hidden in the darkness.

Craig withdrew the long knife as the young man's face spilled blood down the front of him through the cavity in his nose, clean down the middle, soaking into the carpet as his limp body slumped down like a dead weight against the mirrored wardrobes.

Craig reached down and wiped the blade clean against the rumpled bed sheets. The woman next to him clutched herself, half-naked in the gloom.

"Thanks, Craig."

"No worries Regina. You wait here. I gotta find Helen."

Exchanging a knowing nod, he quickly searched the young man's clothes, finding a pistol, silencer attached and a couple of spare magazines. That fat bastard, Phil, only had the knife, which was now securely tucked into a leather scabbard looped onto his belt, the pistol in his right hand.

Fingering the trigger excitedly, Craig stepped out into the hallway, his footsteps muffled well by the soft carpet until he reached the front door and stepped cautiously outside.

It was very dark, the moon hidden behind some clouds that were starting to sweep across the sky, dulling the moonlight and affording more darkness. Just what he needed.

Carefully, he stepped out onto the driveway and jogged across the front yard to the side fence. Even from this distance and muffled by the walls, he could hear the screams of a woman being raped in the house next door. He couldn't tell if it was Helen or not.

It didn't take long to find out. Although it was distasteful, Craig was glad these bikers were so pussy hungry. Each one of them was a sitting duck, still atop their prizes. This man was no exception.

One by one, they died, slashed open or stabbed and left to die, more often than not, alone with the women they sought to violate. Most of these examples pleaded for Craig to finish them off, but instead he smiled when he closed the doors behind him to leave them alone with their former prey, flush with painful and angry creativity, to avenge painfully stolen purity and slaughtered family members.

One by one, Craig cut them down, creeping through the town in the night, searching for Helen.

oooo00oooo

"Fuck you."

"Now, now, Helen. Be a good girl, or I'll get nasty on you."

"Fuck you."

Harry stood over his prize, triumphant and tall, much like his pulsing cock he so gently rubbed along her naked skin. "Helen, you have no escape. I'm going to give you the fucking of your life, then I'm going to bundle you into my car and take you back to my place for more." He gently rubbed the head of his penis against her nipples, savouring the warmth of her skin and the rush of her fear. "You're gonna call me master, and I'm gonna call you slut and you'll beg for me to kill you, but I won't."

"No…" she whimpered, straining against the ropes that held her down on the bed, trying to writhe away from his teasing member, rubbing softly along her.

"Oh yes." He hissed, obviously overjoyed and revelling in her despair. Rubbing in all the salt he could find. "And your boyfriend, Craig? Dead. They shot him, baby. My boys shot him down before he could get away."

"No……" she cried, the reality of his complete victory starting to sink in, with a wracking shudder.

"Now, I'm a little itchy, babe. You're all laid out for me, ready for it. I know you want this." He stepped back around, standing at the end of the bed, taking in the sight of her exposed pussy as she struggled to close her legs, held open by the ropes.

"No, I don't!" she screamed.

"Oh, honey. Every man, knows that when a woman says 'no', she means 'yes'." He waved his hand theatrically. "I'm only so happy to oblige your fantasies."

"No, fuck off!"

Harry stepped forward, relishing the sight of his cock inching forward to her vagina, teasingly rubbing against her pussy lips, slowly penetrating in.

Helen clenched up as best she, could, trying to squeeze herself shut and prevent him from entering her.

"You wanna play rough do ya? You prefer to have me take it from you than give it?" he whispered.

"Let me go…" she whimpered, frustration replacing her fear.

"That's right, beg for it. Tell me how much you like it." He laughed as he rubbed himself, deeper, roughly pushing himself around her vagina in circles as he became wetter. Helen sensed the inevitable as Harry finally started to press inside, slowly but surely penetrating her, until he was all the way in. She grimaced and winced at the pain.

"That's right…. Ooooh yeah, baby." He moaned triumphantly, relishing the moment and slowly beginning his rhythm as he reached up to massage her breasts.

He began to pick up speed, fucking Helen more forcefully until he noticed she stopped groaning and was looking over to the side. He followed her gaze and froze when a figure stepped forward from the glowing light, between draping curtains.

"Harry." The figure breathed, brandishing a gun, pointed straight for his forehead.

oooo00oooo

Try as he might, he had no idea where Harry could be. There were hundreds of houses on Phillip Island and he was running out of time. Helen's life was at stake, and the thought of failing her was more than he could bear.

Craig stopped in his tracks and retreated behind a wall corner, having spotted a house with two guards standing to attention outside, half hidden in the darkness, but betrayed by the glow of cigarettes burning.

Leaning around the corner carefully, he listened as the guards talked amongst themselves, just small talk.

Satisfied they were distracted, he scanned the street looking for the best way to take them down, when he heard a gun shot from inside.

The guards instantly stiffened at the sound and rushed inside through the front door. Seizing the opportunity, Craig ran into the empty street and soon crept up to the door, following inside, pistol drawn up and ready. Their muffled voices wafted back throughout the house, guiding him to them.

"Harry? Harry?"

"Sir, you OK?"

He poked his head around a hallway corner and saw them both, (1) knocking on a bedroom door.

Without hesitation, Craig stepped out into the hallway, right behind them and coolly shot them both in the back of the head before either had a chance. The muffled pop of the silenced pistol was surprisingly loud in the confined space. The volume and dull flash of the shot stunning him momentarily, but he regathered his senses quickly, woken by the thud of the two bodies collapsing against the door and pushing it open as their splattered blood and brain matter dribbled down the woodwork.

He stepped forward, the pistol clutched even tighter before him and side stepped by the doorway, covering behind the wall as he peered in.

"Helen?"

"Craig, look out!" he heard her cry back.

Luckily, his survival instincts overrode his desire to get to her as the loud crack of gun shots erupted from inside, smacking into the door frame, causing him to retreat back behind the wall.

"Craig! Help me!" he heard her cry, tearing his heart to pieces as he desperately searching for a way inside without being shot. He was no good to her dead.

At the thought, he caught himself looking down the slumped body of the guard he shot earlier and had an idea. Quickly, still under the barrage of gunfire the tore away at the door frame's edge, now splintered and broken, he reached down and grabbed the dead man's ankle, dragging him back towards him.

He was a solid man and looked as though he was wearing some kind of flak jacket or body armour.

Perfect.

Craig secured a good grip around the man's jacket, and held him up in front of him. After a quick count of three, he charged into the room, holding the man in front of him as the room erupted in a hail of gunfire, bullets smacking in the man, almost pushing Craig off his feet and falling backwards.

With a heave, Craig kept the body up and charged on, trying to find where the shooter was. Everything happened so fast, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of Helen naked on a bed next to him on his right as a flash caught his attention on the other side to his left.

Summoning all his strength, Craig swung the body around and charged down towards the noise.

"Oh God!" he heard a cry before he hit something and was bowled over. He fell forwards on top of the limp guard, pinning someone underneath. He jumped off and fumbled for his pistol, bringing it around and up in front, beading down on the trapped, but thrashing figure.

"Don't move, don't fucking move, Harry!" he shouted down the sights of his pistol, but could even now see something wasn't right.

"Stop! Don't shoot!" the figure shouted, a distinctly feminine voice.

"Drop your weapon and get up!" he shouted.

"OK OK! Don't shoot!" the woman cried and pushed the body off her, revealing a half naked woman, covered in blood, her face hidden by her messy hair. She rose carefully and her hair fell away, revealing the would-be assassin

"Sarah?" he stammered. His anger dropped as he tried to process what was going on, but he woke up when he heard a car rumble to life outside.

Sarah surged forward, grabbing for his gun, but Craig was much too strong and smacked her across the face with the gun handle, knocking her out cold and sprawled over a small couch.

"Go go! Just get him, baby!" Helen cried.

Craig instantly understood and jumped through an open window just ahead, stumbling out into the night in time to see the distinct red lights of the rear of a car disappear into the distance up the main road back towards the island gates.

He ran forward to give chase, but it was no use. The car was gone as quickly as the fleeting glimpse he first caught of it.

Frustration boiled over as he emptied the gun into the air, "FUCK!"

oooo00oooo

Cold, it's very cold.

Where am I?

Oh god! Oh god! Not here again.

"No….." she whimpered. A door creaked open in response and pale light cascaded down into the small room, a familiar sight standing before her, casting a sickly shadow.

She tried to resist, but the inevitability of her situation sunk in quickly and she gave up trying. She was strapped over the pommel horse again, naked, trapped and bound with Craig standing over her, his face blank.

"I'm sorry." She whimpered pathetically, but Craig's icy cold voice cut it apart.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said, clear and devoid of emotion. "I just want to know why."

She hung her head, not just because it felt heavy, but she couldn't bear to look up at the man she just tried to kill, and whose lover she intended to kill. Especially when her excuse was so pathetic, at least to her.

"I love him. I'm sorry." She sobbed.

"Sarah, it's OK." I'm not going t hurt you, I just wanted to know why. That's it." Sarah looked up through the stray strands of hair covering her face and wasn't sure whether his calm demeanour was supposed to reassure her or not.

"Really?" she replied, the surprise and sense of relief obvious in her voice.

"Yeah. I'm not going to hurt you." He stood there for a moment as Sarah started to smile, but her relief disappeared as another shadowed figure stepped in beside him in the doorway, a woman.

"She is."

Sarah felt her heart constrict and tried to scream, but found no breath as she recognised Helen standing before her, stepping into the room. Her lungs refused to draw breath, as though someone had knocked the wind out of her with a hard punch to the stomach as Helen calmly stepped inside, a tool box in hand, which she set down on a small table.

"Oh god, oh god!" Sarah managed to breath, sounding like a squeaking mouse recoiling before the grinning cat about to devour her.

"Shall I leave you two alone, then?" Craig smiled to his love.

She turned and smiled back, reaching her hands up around the back of her neck to tie the apron she was wearing, 'kiss the cook' blazoned across the front, faded and almost indiscernible in the dim light.

"Yeah, baby. I got this. I'll come get you when I'm done. Don't wait up." She purred.

Craig blew a kiss and disappeared back through the doorway, away from sight, leaving the two women alone together as Sarah baulked at the coming nightmare.

"This will take a while."

(1) This point denotes the place where Dead Opportunities hit 100,000 words! Yay to me! There was much rejoicing! Although there is much more to come, thanks for those who have reviewed and given comment so far. I thrive on criticism, so please leave a review.

I have also signed up to be a beta reader, so if you like my style or my content and are interested, drop me a line. I'll be happy to help out.

But it's two way, please leave me a review. I plan to keep writing beyond 150,000 words. I've got much more planned. Thanks to all, including:

Shadows

xXGageXx

LChoopacabra

Ezram (mate, Wesker)

Patrick of Nazareth

Anyone else who has dropped a review or has signed up for alerts. It's much appreciated!

Reviews are important to me and I am writing with a view to publishing, whether via a book deal or my own website. But stay tuned, there's more to come! A trilogy is planned and I've got heaps of big ideas for Craig!

Many thanks,

Hoobajoo