Darkness Coming (The Gray Men Trilogy, Book Two)

By Anthony Izzo

Book Two of the Gray Men Trilogy.

The battle between the Gray Men and The Guild continues. The Gray Men have thrown the nation into chaos, converting ordinary citizens into violent killers. Larsen, the leader of the Gray Men, is bent on crushing the Guild. Rallying soldiers to his cause, he sets out to find the Guild's last stronghold. The Guild Agents and their allies find themselves fighting for survival in an increasingly violent and dangerous world as the war rages on.

An action-packed dark thriller where the fate of the country is at stake.

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Knuckle Books
• Release date: Aug 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201230388

Anthony Izzo

Anthony Izzo is the author of 17 thrillers. He enjoys writing tales of mayhem that include anything from zombies to psycho killers to murderous shapeshifters. Anthony was a judge for the Buffalo Dreams screenplay competition. He recently had a story appear in the "SNAFU: Future Warfare" anthology. When not writing, he enjoys playing loud guitar, reading crime novels, and giving craft beers a good home. He makes his home in Western New York and features Buffalo prominently in his work.

Book preview

1

Michele had heard several gunshots echo in the distance. It reminded her of the start of hunting season, when hearing gunshots was common in town. Only these blasts had a more sinister purpose. Harper hadn’t seemed to notice; she was watching a television special on some boy band Michele had only heard of in passing.

While Harper watched television, Michele had kept watch on the hallway through the peephole. Dave the Mechanic had passed by about every fifteen minutes. Maybe circling downstairs and patrolling that corridor, as well. It wouldn’t take someone fifteen minutes to walk one hallway.

That meant it was unguarded for a short period of time.

She weighed the risk of running for it. If she ran into Dave, her former mechanic very well might shoot her. Or not. They knew she was married to John, and keeping her alive for now might have some value.

Thinking, Mom? Harper asked.

Michele realized she was standing in the center of the room, arms tightly crossed, staring into the great beyond. That obvious, huh?

Sort of, Harper said. What are you thinking?

That we can’t stay here.

You’re thinking about making a break for it, she said.

Considering it, Michele said.

Yeah, this is already getting boring. Nothing to do in a hotel room. I bet we can’t use the pool.

She had to grin a bit at the mindset of a young girl. Despite the horrors of the last day or so, her daughter was acting like any other kid her age. She supposed being cooped up in a hotel room without Internet or access to friends would be pretty dull. The prospect of dying didn’t enter her mind; it was a boring old hotel room, nothing more.

Will Dad come for us? Harper asked.

If he can, he will, Michele said.

Where’d they take him?

Sweetie, I have no idea.

I hope he comes soon, Harper said.

Michele flinched as a knock came at the door. It opened and a young woman in khaki pants and a polo shirt with Hampton Inn embroidered on the breast came in carrying a tray of food. The woman’s hair was mussed. Her eyes appeared puffy and swollen, a symptom of a lengthy cry. Her name badge read Alicia.

They told me to bring this down, she said.

As she set the tray down on the dresser, Michele studied her: There was none of the abnormal redness in her eyes.

Are you all right? Michele asked.

Alicia straightened up, smoothed out her shirt, which was quite wrinkled. It’s been rough.

Did they hurt you?

Not yet. They said I had to do whatever they wanted, stay here and work. The creepy guy with the scars said he’d do nasty things to me if I didn’t. I won’t repeat them. They came in last night and killed most of the staff. Dragged the bodies out and burned them. It was awful.

Michele saw tears forming in Alicia’s eyes. She wanted to hug the girl, who looked young enough to be her daughter.

I have to get back. Enjoy the food. And your stay at our fine hotel, she said, letting out a short bark of a laugh. It was devoid of any real humor.

Alicia left and shut the door behind her. Michele eyed the tray. On it were two hamburgers and a pile of French fries. A couple of mixed fruit cups, as well. Along with the food there were two cans of Sprite.

They had also sent two forks. The wheels in her head started spinning. It wasn’t a knife, but it was a start.

Can we eat? I’m starving to death, Harper said.

Let’s. It actually smells pretty good.

As good as the food smelled, she couldn’t stop thinking about the waitress and whoever ordered the food sent to them. Would they notice a missing fork?

2

They finished the burgers and fries in record time.

All that remained was a bit of salt and grease on the plates. Michele had taken one of the forks – both of them missing might set off alarm bells – and hid it in the nightstand drawer. Harper had asked her what she was doing with it and she’d responded that it might help them get out of here.

You gonna stab someone? she’d asked.

The kid was too smart for her own good. If it comes down to it.

Ew, she’d responded.

Now, Harper sat on the bed. Food Network was on in the background, one of the cooking competition shows running. It all seemed so goddamned pointless. People were getting burned alive and shot in the streets. Who gave a fuck if someone got booted off a cooking show?

Another knock came at the door and Alicia entered again. You all done?

We’re finished.

As Alicia entered the room, Michele considered asking her a question. The hotel employee probably had no loyalty to Sloan and his people, but she wasn’t sure if she could trust her. She decided to take a chance.

The guy patrolling the hallway, is he still around? she said.

Alicia closed the door behind her. She came over and stood near the bed. He is. Thinking of making a run for it?

She must’ve seen the alarmed look on Michele’s face, because before Michele could respond, Alicia said, Relax. I won’t say anything. He’s patrolling the upstairs and downstairs wing on this end. He’s the only guard on this side of the hotel. There’s a few more on the grounds outside. I’m thinking of doing the same.

Michele noticed that her hands were trembling. She put them in her pockets. I have a sharp knife hidden in the kitchen. Just waiting. If you go, good luck.

You too, Michele said.

I have to get back. They’ll wonder if I’m gone too long.

I’m Michele. This is Harper. Good luck to you, too.

A grin broke out on her face. And if they ask about a missing fork on your tray, I’ll tell them I only gave you one.

They were crazies, no doubt. Trina watched them get out of their vehicles hooting and hollering as if they’d just bagged a deer. Except instead of a deer, Sterling and Trina were the prizes. She gripped her M16 and Sterling got his. He scooted over to the rig’s passenger door.

We’re going to hit them fast, Sterling said. You ready?

Trina nodded.

Her body ached. Her head swam. Stomach swirled. She wanted to lie down and take a nice, long nap. But first there was more fighting to do.

The first two men approached the cab. They were carrying rifles and chatting with each other. The two men approached the passenger door. Sterling kicked it open and shot them in the chest. The speed at which he did so stunned Trina. He turned to her and said, C’mon. We’ll use the truck as cover.

They slipped out of the cab and hustled behind the wrecked trailer, where they crouched down. Trina heard shouting and yelling. A bullet zipped past her like a hot, angry bee. She did a quick count: There were six more men. They were taking cover behind the vehicles. She spotted them carrying some shotguns and another rifle.

One of the men popped up to get a better look. Sterling shot him in the forehead. Five more to go.

A second shot whizzed past them. She ducked behind a rear tire. Shitty cover.

One of the men charged forward, a wild look in his eyes. He was carrying a shotgun as if he had a bayonet attached and were going to stab someone. Trina took aim and cut him down. He fell near his friends who had approached the cab.

Come out and we won’t hurt you! We promise. Give us the girl! one of them shouted.

Their negotiation skills are worse than their aim, Trina said.

That actually got a smile from Sterling.

There’s more of us coming! the same voice shouted.

Good! Sterling called back. More of you to kill!

That response drew a blast from a shotgun. She heard the buckshot rip into the side of the trailer.

We need to break this, Sterling said. I’ll pin them down. You go around the other side and ambush them.

Sounds like a shit plan, she said.

Do you want to wait for more of them to show up?

You suck sometimes, she said. Especially when you’re right.

She had two magazines left. She swapped out the old one for a full one and flipped the M16’s selector switch to full auto. She’d have to count on surprising them, then strafe the hell out of them and hope for the best.

Get ready, Sterling said.

She ducked around the rear of the trailer. It was tilted sideways from the crash. She had a quick vision of the rig tipping and crushing her. It would be a hell of a thing if she’d survived the firefight only to be squashed to death. Sterling’s M16 chattered.

She reached the cab, where steam poured from under the hood. She saw the men behind an old Monte Carlo. They were crouched down and hadn’t seen her.

She rushed the Monte Carlo and sprayed two of the men, sending them to the ground. A third saw her and started to stand. She shot him in the chest. The last guy, the one with the rifle, raised it quickly and fired, forcing her to the ground. She flattened her self, dropping the M16, and the shot zoomed over her head. Now on her belly, she looked up. The guy was digging a bullet from his pocket and attempting to reload.

She got up, ran to him, and launched a kick into his chest, knocking him backwards. He dropped his rifle, got up, eyes seeming to boil with rage. He was big and sturdy. She went low, planting a heel in his kneecap. She heard a crack. He grunted, bent over to grab his knee. She followed up with throat chop. Swung her elbow to his temple. Another crack and he went down face first and smacked the blacktop.

She scooped up the M16 and looked around; she’d gotten all of them.

Sterling! All clear!

He joined her, rifle slung over his shoulder.

Let’s salvage what we can from the rig. Some MREs and maybe a first aid kit. More ammo.

Onward to this compound?

Onward, he said.

3

Night had fallen on the hotel. They sat with one light on, Michele wondering how long the power grids would keep working among the chaos.

She had timed Dave’s last round. He had come around a few minutes ago. She was trying to get up her nerve to go; when he passed again, she would take Harper and run for it.

Harper was doodling on the Hampton Inn pad with the pen the inn provided, drawing her version of Sponge Bob. Michele had noticed she’d written I love Nigel up in the corner of the paper. Nigel was one of the messy-haired teens in the boy band Harper adored.

Michele came over to where her daughter sat at the desk. She put her hand on Harper’s shoulder. Harper looked up and smiled.

We’re going to try and get out of here, Michele said.

––––––––

It was time to go.

She stood near the door, fork in hand. Dave the Mechanic had just passed by and she heard the stairway door slam shut, which meant he’d be heading downstairs to patrol the first floor corridor. She looked at Harper, who seemed cool and calm.

Ready? Michele asked.

She took her daughter’s hand and eased the door open, the familiar smell of hotel cleaning products wafting into the room. In a few weeks those smells might be replaced by those of blood and rotting bodies. She hoped to be far away from here by the time that happened.

They entered the hallway.

It was empty. They headed for the stairway, Michele hoping they wouldn’t find anyone waiting on the steps for them. Hopefully Dave was long gone down the other hallway. If she really got lucky, there’d also be a door leading outside at the bottom of the stairs.

I’m nervous, Harper said. I have to pee.

Lower your voice. You’ll have to hold it.

They paused at the doorway. She opened it. It wasn’t all that loud, but the squeal it made sounded as loud as cannon fire. She shut the door, lock clicking, and they headed down the steps.

She saw Dave standing there, revolver at his side. He was looking out a glass door that led to the parking lot. Hadn’t seen them. She had almost stumbled down the stairs and ended up on top of him.

As she turned to go, her shoe squeaked on the concrete step. Dave turned around.

You’re not supposed to be here, he said. She watched his hand twitch, maybe getting ready to raise the gun, and she took a big breath, not sure if she could do it, but she clenched the fork and drove it into his right eye. He made a yowling noise and grabbed at the fork. Blood dribbled down his face. He dropped the gun and she took the last few steps and scooped it up, dragging Harper along, not letting go of her hand.

She pushed past Dave, who was on his knees pulling at the fork.

They pushed the door open and went out into the night.

4

Panic struck her; she didn’t expect it to work. Here they were, though. In the parking lot, Dave the Mechanic behind them and trying to dig a fork out of his eye socket. How badass of her. If this were an eighties action flick, she would’ve said something like You just got forked up. She almost started giggling at the thought of the silly line.

Instead, she looked around the lot. There was a minivan and a hatchback parked in the lot, but she doubted there were keys in them.

They were about ten blocks from home; she thought of running there, maybe hiding out. It could be the last place they’d look. Or the first.

Either way, she felt exposed being out here in the parking lot.

Which way? Harper asked.

We’ll head home, get my car. We have to be quick.

They bolted across the parking lot and came to the driveway. She saw a guard walking along the side of the building. Head down, smoke curled from the cigarette clamped in his teeth.

There was a Chevy Tahoe parked on the street. Michele grabbed Harper’s hand and they ducked behind the front of the truck, keeping low.

She watched the smoking man continue his rounds and go up the driveway and into the lot.

C’mon, Michele said.

––––––––

They crossed the street and cut through the parking lot of the CVS. In the distance, she heard a helicopter. Normally she would’ve thought it to be a news chopper or maybe the sheriff’s department out hunting for people growing weed. But she wasn’t sure after the way things had changed the other night. She would feel