The Tomb E-Book

Carl Novakovich

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

John Gideon, a former homicide detective turned P.I., has dug too deep. Now, he has to come to terms with the truth of the world, while searching for the only family he has left.

Together with his new partner Beth May - a spell-wielding demon who has turned her back on Hell - the two are humanity's last hope to stop a collective of Fallen Angels, known as The Watchers, from breaking the first of the Seven Seals of Revelation.

If the Seals are broken, they will set free sickness, war, and death on the world, until there is nothing left but an apocalyptic wasteland. John and Beth have the tools needed and the strength to stop them. But are they already too late?

Leseprobe

THE TOMB

THE WATCHERS BOOK 1

CARL NOVAKOVICH

CONTENTS

1. A Message

2. The Case

3. The Chase

4. Perp Walk

5. Another Time

6. Walter's Journey

7. Fallen

8. A Lonely Drink

9. A New Day

10. The Call

11. The Follower

12. The Picture

13. Fight

14. The Truth

15. Failure

16. Ben's Concern

17. Morning After

18. The Trinket

19. The Escape

20. The Vault

21. Lover Boy

22. The Armory

23. A Possible Farewell

24. The Walk Up

25. Pumping Station

26. Beth's Tunnel Vision

27. John's Tunnel Vision

28. The Tomb

Next in the Series

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2021 Carl Novakovich

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Edited by India Hammond

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

For Carl J. Bonavolanto, Jr. — Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather

And for all those we lost as a result of this horrible virus.

We will never forget you.

A MESSAGE

Please stop what you're doing. Look around you. Wherever you are in this moment, please pay close attention. Your neighbors, the people that might be walking by, your spouse — are they who you think they are? I ask you this because what I'm about to tell you will open your eyes to the truth of the world. As you continue, you will not be able to unsee the truth. However, I beg you to not stop reading because the world has already changed, but I guarantee that you have yet to see why. Not just for the people involved in this story, but for you as well.

This is not my story; I'm just helping it along. In fact, this is not a story at all. I'll be chiming in from time to time, as well as a couple friends of mine, to tell you the rest. Understand that what you are about to hear will change your life forever. Just know, everything you read will reflect your everyday life. It will open your eyes to the truth that has been around you this entire time.

Please, understand that what I am about to tell you is not something you should take lightly. So, please, read carefully, pay close attention, and most importantly — stay safe...

THE CASE

JOHN

DECEMBER 2018

Chicago

Walking back from yet another food run. I feel like that is most of my job now. Walter Finch, my partner in the Chicago Police Department, sends me on quite a few of these. This is the same man who raised me after my aunt, who was like a mother to me, died. He was once in great shape, just like I am now, but he let himself go as the years got the best of him. After sixty years on this Earth, I guess it's easy to not care as much about the way you look. That, and he isn't the detective he once was — that might be my fault in a way. Now it's just, 'hey, John, how about a snack,' or 'hey, John, how about a sub?' The problem is, he usually considers a sub the same thing as a snack... the fat bastard.

Oh, and that's me, by the way — John Gideon. I'm half Walter's age. At just thirty, I still take care of the way I look. The way I see it, if I want to catch the criminals we're chasing, then I need to be in the best shape possible. Walter doesn't share the same ideals as I do. Hell, the day I joined the homicide and missing persons unit and became his partner was the day he officially checked out and had me complete all of his work. It's okay though, it's the least I can do for the man who was always there for me. He is the only family I have left. It would be nice to have him a bit more active in some cases, though.

I mean, for instance, today we are on a stake-out looking for a suspect that could be involved in a string of missing person cases we've been working on for over a year now. With thirteen people missing, four dead and, as of today, only one lead, I need all the help I can get. Unfortunately, Walter has only wanted to help in one way — to stay out of mine. It's not the best partnership, but I love the man like a father, and I can't very well tell him to get his shit together, now can I?

Also, getting out of the car on a stake-out to go on a food run is not part of the protocol, but thankfully, for the time of year it is, it's easy for me to blend right in with all of the other people.

December in Chicago is a crazy time. I guess December in any city is pretty crazy, but in Chicago, it's another world. It makes it easier to blend in. There are lights all around, snow on the ground, people enjoying the festivities. Oh, and let's not forget about ice skating in Millennium Park — the people can't get enough of that. So, considering people tell me that the way I walk, dress, act, and I guess my overall demeanor screams 'cop' from a mile away, it's a good thing I can just blend in with the other people walking around, as I walk back to the car with a big bag of food. I make sure to hide my badge behind the food, as well. It's not uncommon for a detective to be walking down the street. Still, considering this is a residential street, I don’t want to give our suspect any reason to get suspicious today, all because Walter had a craving.

Before I left Walter to get his food, I begged him to keep an eye on our suspect's apartment building to make sure we didn't lose him. As I walk back to the car, I can see through the back window that Walter is playing with the sun-visor instead of doing his job. Sometimes I don't know what to do with this man.

I open the driver side door and interrupt Walter's playtime, "Cut it out. I left you here to watch for the suspect, not to play with yourself!"

"Finally! I'm starving," Walter replies.

I hand him a sandwich, and he wastes no time diving in. With food in his mouth, he asks, "Hey, you didn't forget my backup sub, did you? You know I like to snack when these things run late."

What did I tell you...

"No, Walter, I did not forget your backup sub. And how many times do I have to tell you, a sub is not a snack, you fat ass."

Walter rubs his stomach. "It is to me."

We both laugh it off — that's just Walter.

I could tell at times the fat jokes bother him when it isn’t just the two of us. He’s not a fan of the other detectives making fun of him. He once was a great detective, now he’s the butt of every joke — it can find a way to get to the best of us. However, when it's just him and me, he knows I don't mean anything by it, I only say it for his own good. I worry about his health.

After both of us chowing down for a bit, I know its’s time to get down to business. We had been here for a few hours before my little run, and now we need to go over these case files again. It's only a matter of time before our suspect comes out of his apartment.

"Alright, so let's run down these case files one more time."

Walter threw his sub on the dashboard and pulls out a large file with the cases we've been working on.

"Well, our girl, Jenna Meyers, went missing the same way as all the others. It was reported by a friend of hers about thirty-six hours after she first went missing. Luckily, the friend was the one that mentioned we should look into this suspect — Steven James. I guess he was Jenna's boyfriend. Apparently, he has been acting strange ever since she went missing."

I take a second to reprocess all this information. "I think if my girlfriend went missing, I would be acting strange too."

"Yea, well, something doesn't seem right about this guy." Walter says, with a bit of unease in his voice.

"What do you mean?" I ask with a bit of confusion at Walter’s actual detective work.

Walter flips to a different page in the file. "I had one of the guys at the precinct dig into our suspect.”

That makes more sense...

Walter continues. “He looks like all of our missing victims."

"How so?" I ask, immediately forgetting my original bias in Steven’s favor.

Walter explains, "Outside of his name and address, this guy is basically a ghost. There is no family, school, or job history. Hell, he doesn't even have a social media account. I'm not saying that makes him our kidnapper, but something doesn't feel right."

Okay, now I'm a bit more interested. Walter could have led with that before we came on this stake-out. "Alright, does that mean he's our next victim or is he picking off people with his off-the-grid patterns?"

"Eh... couldn't tell ya." Walter’s interest in the case has reached its limit, and he grabs his sub.

God damn... Walter's attention span is getting smaller by the day.

"Walter, we need to figure something out here. Just because of all that doesn't mean we're any closer to solving this.” I ponder for a moment. “But, I'm pretty sure something is up with this guy."

Walter takes a few more bites, and a curious gaze comes over him. I honestly thought, for a moment, he was thinking of the case — for a moment. Then he speaks.

"Maybe we should just head back to the station and re-evaluate the situation with these missing pasts. I feel like we're missing a piece of the puzzle. Even better, we can do it over a drink!"

That's all he wants, to wash down his sub with a bourbon. Oh, if I didn't mention it before, the only thing Walter enjoys more than food is booze. I swear he used to be a great detective, one of the best, in fact. However, a long time ago, all of that changed — a case that actually changed both of our lives. I was only a kid, and he was a young detective. But that's not important right now. I just didn't want you to get the wrong impression of him; he really does mean well — most of the time.

After brushing off his idiotic comment about grabbing a drink while on a stake-out as we wait for our only lead in over a year on a high-profile case, I calm myself and respond.

"Not yet, you lazy ass..." Okay, so maybe I wasn't completely calm. "I still want to talk to this guy. He has got to know something."

Walter is not happy with my decision. You see, he is technically the lead detective. He has seniority over me which makes him in charge of these cases. However, that doesn't mean he isn't on thin ice at the precinct. It's my work that keeps him employed, so he still does what I tell him to.

"Fine... I still don't get why we can't knock on the guy's door," Walter says, upset that his plan to skip out on work has failed.

"Come on, Walter, you know how I like to do things. If we hang out here, we might get a better idea of who this guy is. Have I ever steered you wrong? No... I haven't."

"You got a point. But I'm going to finish my sub." Walter looks down at the rest of the sub on his lap. "Come here, you beautiful angel."

I can't help but laugh as the next words fall from my mouth. "My God, you really are a fat bastard! Maybe you should have listened to my aunt all those years ago when she told you to lay off the fatty foods. Who knows, maybe you would still be in the shape you were in back then."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don't let this body fool you. I can still kick your ass up and down this block... I just don't want to." Walter shoves the rest of the sub in his mouth.

We both crack up. Walter chokes a bit on the last bite of his sub, which only makes us laugh even harder.

I slap his arm, as I see movement coming from Steven's apartment.

Steven lives in a duplex apartment building, so I can see him exit directly from his place and walk down the stairs to the street. We're parked just a bit down the block, so we aren't spotted.

I see Steven walk in our direction.

"There he is," I tell Walter.

"Finally," Walter says.

THE CHASE

JOHN

Walter and I exit the car and begin walking toward Steven. Thankfully, with all the people still out on the street coming home from last-minute Christmas shopping, we blend right in. Well, sort of. Walter has his cheap suit on, which makes him stick out more than I do — and I have a badge hanging around my neck. So, we try to play it cool, but a 30-year-old and a 60-year-old with no gifts, 3 days before Christmas, both screaming 'cop' doesn't help much. It’s only a matter of time before... Yup, we’ve been made.

Steven stops dead in his tracks. Walter and I look at each other. Should we run toward him? He isn't running. What should we do? Wait, why is he looking at me like that? It's like he knows me. It's kind of freaking me out.

We both take a step forward, and he turns and runs. Here we go.

We chase after him. He's fast. Shit, he's really fast. We're doing all we can to keep up, and I'm doing all I can to make sure Walter doesn't have a heart attack while we chase him down.

Clearly, Steven knows something; otherwise why would he have taken off like this?

Walter screams out, "Chicago Police! Freeze!"

It doesn't faze Steven in the slightest — he keeps going. I didn't think that would work. He clearly knows we were police, and Walter just wasted his breath.

Steven turns down another side street, hoping to lose us, but we stay on him. We're far behind, there is no way we can keep up. This guy must have been a track star — wherever he went to school. I'll have to ask him if I ever catch him.

I have an idea. So, I yell to Walter, "Stay on him!" Then I turn down an alley and double back.

I know there is only one way to catch up to this guy. Usually, I would just say it's time to cut our losses and we'll find him another way, but after a year of searching with only one lead, I can't let this one go. So, I sprint as fast as I can with the little energy I have left — God, I can only imagine how Walter is feeling right now — and I make it to the car. I have to track them down. Thankfully, I track Walter's phone because I tend to lose him in the slew of bars or fast-food joints throughout the city more often than I'd care to admit.

Once I find which way they're heading, I speed off in their direction.

Now, I know my boss won't be happy about this one, mainly because we don't know what this guy knows, but I feel that this guy has something to do with these missing people. Also, if you could have only seen how he looked at me, you would know I need to do something extreme. It was like when he saw my face, he knew it was over for him. I need to find him.

So, I speed toward Walter and Steven. It seems that they ran down an alley — I just hope Walter is close enough behind that he didn't lose track of Steven.

I fly down the wrong way on a one-way street. I pull into a driveway and slam on the brakes in front of Steven. I thought that this would slow him down or, at the very least, make him jump onto the hood of the car as if he were attempting to jump over it but fail. However, I don't know what the hell I saw. Maybe it was the impact that affected my vision — yea, the impact, which was yet another strange occurrence from tonight.

As Steven was running toward me, and Walter seemed to be miles behind him, I could have sworn his eyes began to... to glow red.

No. That's crazy. I'm going to just chalk that all up to the shitty food that Walter makes me eat. It's messing with my head.

Either way, he hit my car, and that's what the impact was. Steven charges at the car with such a force that it was as if a bus had hit the front end. I actually thought to myself, 'I'm glad I had my seatbelt on.' It shakes me up a bit and it knocks Steven out cold, which gives Walter enough time to catch up, pin him down, and cuff him. I have to say, for a skinny guy, he is strong as hell.

By this point, I was back to my usual self. I get out of the car and shake off any crazy ideas I have about mentioning this to anyone. As a detective, you never want to say you saw something strange in the field, especially someone with glowing red eyes. They'll put you on desk duty for that, and who's going to protect Walter if I'm riding a desk?

Walter looks up at the dent in the car with shock. He glances back down at Steven, who was still on the ground but not fully conscious, and said, "God damn! How fast were you going!?"

As Steven is now slowly waking up, concern washes over him. He looks at Walter and blurts out, "You have no idea what you're getting involved in. I'm not who you think I am, and trust me when I tell you, none of this is what you think it is."

Walter laughs him off and helps him up. Then, he hands Steven off to me.

I say, as I toss him in the back seat of the car. "Okay, well, why don't you tell us all about it on the way to the precinct? We have a few other questions for you anyway."

I slam the door on Steven, and through the window of the back door, he gives me the same look he did when I first saw him. It was almost as if he was staring into my soul — and I'm not enjoying it at all. I don't know if he's our kidnapper, but those eyes are telling me he's guilty of something. Is that wrong for a detective to say? I know, I shouldn't prejudge a person. So, let's just keep that between us... Deal?

I walk over to Walter — he's looking at the damage to the car.

"How the hell are we going to explain this to the guys at the motor pool?"

"I guess we just tell them some doped up suspect charged at it," I question my own answer.

"You think he's on something?" Walter asks curiously.

"I don't know," I sigh. "Can you explain how he not only ran as fast as he did but also was able to crash into me like that?"

"Yea, I guess you're right. Are you okay, by the way?" Walter put his hand on my shoulder. "You look like shit. Maybe you have a concussion."

"Yea, I'm fine." I want to say something about Steven’s eyes to Walter. I mean, it's just Walter; I know I can trust him, but I also know he'll worry. "Let's just get this guy back to the station."

"Whatever you say, boss," Walter says without argument.