Predators

By Aaron Abilene

A badass woman leads a group of residents in a coastal city through a massive hurricane all while also fighting a group of criminals that are trying to loot the city during the storms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Syphon Creative
• Release date: Mar 20, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230944300

Book preview

Predators

Aaron Abilene

Published by Syphon Creative, 2025.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

PREDATORS

First edition. March 20, 2025.

Copyright © 2025 Aaron Abilene.

ISBN: 979-8230944300

Written by Aaron Abilene.

Also by Aaron Abilene

505

505

505: Resurrection

Balls

Dead Awake

Before The Dead Awake

Dead Sleep

Bulletproof Balls

Carnival Game

Full Moon Howl

Donovan

Shades of Z

Codename

The Man in The Mini Van

Deadeye

Deadeye & Friends

Cowboys Vs Aliens

Ferris

Life in Prescott

Afterlife in Love

Tragic Heart

Island

Paradise Island

The Lost Island

The Lost Island 2

The Lost Island 3

The Island 2

James & Zoe

Inheritance

James & Zoe

Sourcing Trip

Reality Check

Korrak

The Hunger of Korrak

The Wrath of Korrak

The Death of Korrak

The Return of Korrak

Kuru

Kuru

Kuru Zombies

Laughing Death

Pandemic

Pandemic

Prototype

Prototype

The Compound

Slacker

Slacker 2

Slacker 3

Slacker: Dead Man Walkin'

Survivor Files

Survivor Files: Day 1

Survivor Files : Day 1 Part 2

Survivor Files : Day 2

Survivor Files : On The Run

Survivor Files : Day 3

Survivor Files : Day 4

Survivor Files : Day 5

Survivor Files : Day 6

Survivor Files : Day 7

Survivor Files : Day 8

Survivor Files : Day 9

Survivor Files : Day 10

Survivor Files : Day 11

Survivor Files : Day 12

Survivor Files : Day 13

Survivor Files : Day 14

Survivor Files : Day 15

Survivor Files : Day 16

Survivor Files : Day 17

Survivor Files : Day 18

Survivor Files : Day 19

Survivor Files : Day 20

Survivor Files : Day 21

Texas

Devil Child of Texas

A Vampire in Texas

The Author

Breaking Wind

Yellow Snow

Dragon Snatch

Golden Showers

Nether Region

Evil Empire

Thomas

Quarantine

Contagion

Eradication

Isolation

Immune

Pathogen

Bloodline

Decontaminated

TPD

Trailer Park Diaries

Trailer Park Diaries 2

Trailer Park Diaries 3

Virus

Raising Hell

Zombie Bride

Zombie Bride

Zombie Bride 2

Zombie Bride 3

Standalone

The Victims of Pinocchio

A Christmas Nightmare

Pain

Fat Jesus

A Zombie's Revenge

The Headhunter

Crash

Tranq

The Island

Dog

The Quiet Man

Joe Superhero

Feral

Good Guys

Romeo and Juliet and Zombies

The Gamer

Becoming Alpha

Dead West

Small Town Blues

Shades of Z: Redux

The Gift of Death

Killer Claus

Skarred

Home Sweet Home

Alligator Allan

10 Days

Army of The Dumbest Dead

Kid

The Cult of Stupid

9 Time Felon

Slater

Bad Review: Hannah Dies

Me Again

Maurice and Me

The Family Business

Lightning Rider : Better Days

Lazy Boyz

The Sheep

Wild

The Flood

Extinction

Good Intentions

Dark Magic

Sparkles The Vampire Clown

From The Future, Stuck in The Past

Rescue

Knock Knock

Creep

Honest John

Urbex

She's Psycho

Unfinished

Neighbors

Misery, Nevada

Vicious Cycle

Relive

Romeo and Juliet: True Love Conquers All

Dead Road

Florida Man

Hunting Sarah

The Great American Zombie Novel

Carnage

Marge 3 Toes

Random Acts of Stupidity

Born Killer

The Abducted

Whiteboy

Broken Man

Graham Hiney

Bridge

15

Paper Soldiers

Zartan

The Concepts of a Plan

The Firsts in Life

Vlad The Bad

The Husband

Silver Town

The Squatter

Unlucky in Love

Unhappily Ever After

Giant Baby

The Valley of Death

Skunk Ape

Dog Man

The Hag

Delulu and The Asshole Apocalypse

Remover

Cannibal Prospector

New Nazi

Tyrant's Fall

China Madman

A Bad Day

Predators

Project Alpha

Secret Killer

Amnesia

No Tomorrow

Blackout

East Bound

Endless Trip

Haunted

Nobody

Peg Leg Jew

Eat The Rich

Exposed

Secret Weapon

Darwin's Apocalypse

Death of The States

Romeo & Juliet in Space

Wanderer

Burning Man

Passengers

Ponytail

Crackhead

Roid Rage

Activated

Time Warp

Train

The Devil on House Arrest

Diner

The Town

The Car

The End of The American Empire

Mom and Pop's

The Brute

Kalani

The Walker

Grime

Mythical Creatures

Blue Eyed Girl

Hero

Inadequacies of Man

To The Brink

Parasite

The Convention

The Spawning Room

The Other Side

The Other Me

The Perfect Crime

Immortal

4000

The Earl of Saint Louis

The Ranch

Trigger Warning

Evil

In The Woods

Badlands

Brittle

Timeline

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Aaron Abilene

Predators

Chapter 1: Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 2: Dark Clouds on the Horizon

Chapter 3: The Exodus Begins

Chapter 4: Ghost Towns and Gathering Storms

Chapter 5: Landfall

Chapter 6: Aftermath and Discovery

Chapter 7: Connecting the Dots

Chapter 8: Resistance Forms

Chapter 9: The Storm Resurges

Chapter 10: Betrayal and Alliances

Chapter 11: Counterstrike

Chapter 12: The Final Heist

Chapter 13: Showdown

Chapter 14: The Storm Breaks

Chapter 15: Rebuilding

Chapter 16: New Horizons

Chapter 17: The Next Big One

Chapter 18: Eye of the Hurricane

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Also By Aaron Abilene

​Predators

Written by Aaron Abilene

​Chapter 1: Calm Before the Storm

The diner smelled like bacon and defeat. Erin sat at the counter of The Blue Anchor, stirring her black coffee and eyeing the sticky Formica with a look that could peel paint. Sam, the owner, shuffled out from the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder like he was ready to surrender to it at any moment. He was as grizzled as the linoleum floor, with a perpetual frown that suggested life owed him money. He plunked a plate of toast in front of her, barely toasted. Thought you'd like it raw, he said, scratching his chin with a grease-blackened finger.

This tourist season's gonna be a circus, eh? Erin said, tearing into the bread like it had personally offended her.

Sam snorted, a noise that rattled his entire face. It's a goddamn freak show every year. Why stop now?

The diner was already filling up, locals huddled in booths with faces as weathered as the harbor docks. The low hum of conversations blended with the clinking of cutlery and the sizzle of the griddle, creating a soundtrack that played on repeat every morning. Above the counter, a TV flickered silently, flashing a graphic of a tropical depression spinning in the Atlantic. The regulars glanced at it and shrugged like they’d seen it a hundred times before and expected to see it a hundred times more.

Ain't nothing but hot air, Sam grumbled, waving the forecast away like a bad smell. Just like those damn politicians.

Erin chuckled, raising her coffee cup in mock salute. She liked the mornings like this, with their comforting sameness, even when it was tinged with the looming threat of something big. She drained her cup, threw a few crumpled bills on the counter, and slid off the stool with a nod to Sam.

See you tomorrow if the town's not underwater, she called, the bell over the door jangling as she left.

Outside, the air was thick and salty, a typical summer morning on the coast. Erin headed down the cracked sidewalk, passing sun-bleached storefronts and faded Rooms for Rent signs. The town was gearing up for the season, ready to trade its soul for tourist dollars once again. She reached a weatherworn porch where the paint peeled in long strips, and tapped on the door.

A shuffling sound from inside, then it swung open to reveal Mrs. Alvarez, her face a roadmap of deep lines and soft wrinkles, all curving up into a toothy smile. Erin! I was wondering when you'd drop by.

Erin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Thought I'd make sure you're still kicking, old woman.

Ha! It'll take more than a hurricane to get rid of me. Mrs. Alvarez waved her inside. Coffee?

Nah, already had my fill. Just checking in. Everything all right?

They chatted for a bit, their voices echoing in the small, cluttered living room that smelled of dust and lavender. Erin listened to the older woman's tales of a time when the town wasn't just a pit stop for tourists and storms. She took in every word, but her mind was always running three steps ahead, mapping out her next move, her next plan. Mrs. Alvarez saw the glint in her eye.

Don't worry about me, she said, her voice warm and reassuring. You're the one with a town to take care of.

Erin smirked, the kind of smile that never reached her eyes. Yeah, yeah. See you around, Mrs. A.

The air was heavier when Erin stepped back outside, like the whole town was holding its breath. She knew the weather could turn fast, that the tourists would bail the second the sky looked ugly, but the locals? They'd hang on till the bitter end. She loved that about them, their stubbornness, their grit. She pushed her way down the street, past boarded-up windows and patched-together homes, like nothing could touch her, like she was made of iron and caffeine.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of town, a warehouse squatted under the weight of the thickening sky. It was a cavernous, dimly lit space that smelled like machine oil and stale cigarette smoke, a place where the forgotten things ended up. Vargas stood at the head of a ragtag crew, his eyes cold and precise, cutting through the darkness with a predator's calm. He leaned over a battered metal table, strewn with maps and schematics, the edges curling like they'd been held too close to a flame.

Listen up, Vargas said, his voice low and brutal. It carried through the warehouse, silencing the whispers and shuffling feet. We've got a window here. A big one. But it's closing fast.

The crew circled around him, a mix of desperation and determination etched into their faces. They were a tough bunch, with scars that told stories they didn't want to remember. They hung on Vargas's every word like it was gospel.

This storm's gonna hit, and it's gonna hit hard, Vargas continued, stabbing a calloused finger into the center of the map. The town'll be running scared, eyes on the sky, not on us. Perfect cover.

One of the guys, a wiry kid with a perpetual sneer, nodded. Just like the warehouse job, right?

Yeah, but bigger, Vargas said, his lips curling into a wolfish grin. A lot bigger. We're talking the mother lode.

He laid out the plan with ruthless precision, each step a calculated risk, each target marked with an X. Timing and discretion, he stressed, over and over. Move too soon, and they'd blow it. Too late, and they'd be buried in the wreckage. They listened, nodded in grim agreement, their eyes reflecting the flickering overhead light like hungry animals. Vargas outlined how they'd use vehicles painted to mimic emergency responses, slipping in and out while the town was busy panicking. It was audacious, dangerous, exactly the kind of thing they'd come to expect from him.

And remember, Vargas said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, this storm's our ticket. We fuck it up, and we're done. So don't.

The finality of his words hung in the air as the crew dispersed, leaving Vargas alone with the maps and his dark, calculated thoughts. Outside, the wind began to pick up, whistling through the broken panes like a warning, like a promise.

Erin didn't hear the wind over the sound of her own determination. She was on a mission, a one-woman crusade to hold the town together while everything around it threatened to come undone. She swung by the community center, a ramshackle building that doubled as a shelter and tripled as a makeshift gathering spot. The paint was flaking off in great, scaly chunks, but it had stood through more storms than anyone could count, and she figured it had a few more left in it.

Hey, Erin! A kid on a skateboard, hair in his eyes and a chipped tooth grin, zipped past her. You think we'll have school tomorrow?

She gave him a look that was half amused, half pitying. Hell if I know. Just means more homework, right?

He laughed and pushed off, the wheels rattling over cracked asphalt as he disappeared down the street. She liked the kid's spirit, the way he shrugged off the impending doom like it was nothing but a joke. It reminded her of herself, back when she thought she had the whole world figured out.

Inside the center, the place was already buzzing with the frenetic energy of impending disaster. Locals shuffled in and out, stockpiling sandbags, making lists, arguing over supplies. Erin slipped into the chaos with ease, her presence a steadying force that drew everyone in like moths to a flame.

Erin! Marge, a round woman with a voice that could shatter glass, waved her over. What's the plan? You think this one's gonna hit us bad?

Always does, Erin said, grabbing a clipboard and making notes. But we know the drill. We're not dead yet.

Sure, but these old bones can't swim like they used to.

That's why we've got rafts, Marge.

The two of them shared a look, a moment of understanding that came from years of weathering storms, both literal and figurative. Erin moved through the room like a force of nature, directing people with a few sharp words, making sure no one was left behind or forgotten. It was what she did best, what she lived for. Even as the storm clouds gathered, even as the TV stations started screaming apocalypse, she stayed calm, collected, and fiercely unbothered.

Back in the warehouse, Vargas watched as his crew slipped into the night, their footsteps echoing off the concrete like ghostly reminders of what they had to lose. He stayed behind, poring over the maps with a cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke curling up to join the thick, heavy air. He had been planning this for months, waiting for the perfect moment when the storm and the chaos would align like stars, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to grab everything he wanted and more. The risks were high, but so were the stakes, and he was nothing if not a gambler.

A flicker of doubt crossed his mind, a shadow of a memory he couldn't quite shake. It wasn't the first time he'd played with fire, but this one felt different, more dangerous. The crew was solid, he told himself. The plan was tight. All they had to do was follow through. His eyes fell on a name scrawled in the corner of the map, and he crushed it out with the heel of his hand, like stamping out a dangerous thought.

He stayed until the cigarette burned down to the filter, until the storm outside grew louder than the storm inside his head. Then he left, locking the door behind him with a sense of finality that felt like closing a chapter he wasn't sure he could reopen.

Erin spent the rest of the day in constant motion, like a perpetual motion machine that ran on grit and sarcasm. She checked in on the few shops that stayed open despite the ominous weather reports, offering a hand, a snarky comment, whatever people needed to keep their spirits up. The wind picked up, rattling windows and kicking up dust, but she pushed through it with the