After The Fall (Book 4): Undercover Read online

  Undercover

  Book 4 in

  After the Fall Series

  A Novel

  By David Nees

  Copyright © 2019 David E. Nees

  All rights reserved

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by electronic, mechanical or any other means, without the express permission of the author.

  Undercover, Book 4 of the After the Fall, series is a work of fiction and should be construed as nothing but. All characters, locales, and incidents portrayed in the novel are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  To keep up with my new releases, please visit my website at www.davidnees.com. Scroll down to the bottom of the landing page to the section titled, “Follow the Adventure”.

  You can visit my author page here. You can “Follow” under my picture on the Amazon book page and Amazon will let you know when I release a new work.

  Undercover

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Afterword

  For Carla

  My encourager

  Grateful thanks for to my beta readers: Chris, Regina, Kathi, and Kermit. Your insightful comments are key to turning my rough agate into a polished (gem) stone. I appreciate your generosity of time.

  A special thank you to my friend, Eric. You have the writer’s perspective and that is so helpful to me.

  I owe a special thanks to Dr. Jordan Peterson. He is unaware of his contribution to this tale, but his insights helped me put some thoughts and words into one of the characters in the story. I’m sure you’ll know which one, when you get there.

  And thank you, Carla and Catherine. Proofreading is hard to do and it takes away from the joy of reading a story. My work would be riddled with errors but for your help

  Cover art by Onur Aksoy. You can find his work at https://www.onegraphica.com/

  Undercover

  Book 4 in After the Fall series

  “Once you've lived the inside-out world of espionage, you never shed it. It's a mentality, a double standard of existence.”—John le Carré

  “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.”—Friedrich Nietzche

  “The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy.”—John Galsworthy

  Chapter 1

  ___________________________________

  J ason sat close to his small campfire. The old Native American saying, probably apocryphal came to mind, “White man builds a big fire, sits far away, Indian builds a small fire, sits close”. He smiled. Small fires were good; a lot easier to maintain, you didn’t have to collect as much wood, and they drew less attention.

  He was in a grove of oak trees nestled in a dozen acres off of the highway. Not far enough to feel comfortable, but it was the best place he could find. There were fewer stands of woods in the farming country through which he traveled. The tall trees kept out most of the sunlight, leaving the forest floor less choked with bushes, especially the irritating wild rose which grew so abundantly in the eastern forests.

  His trek to Charlotte had been uneventful so far, but he didn’t want to let his guard down. The world outside of protected towns was still a dangerous place. One ran into fewer people, now four years after the EMP attack, but the federal government had still not achieved anything like an overall, unifying presence. Cities were on their own with smaller outlaw groups continuing to prowl around the countryside looking for opportunities.

  His sense of caution had caused him to camp off the highways that he used as modern-day trails. The roads were littered with abandoned vehicles, long looted of any valuables, but walking was easier, despite the hard pavement. The roadways were not choked with undergrowth so he could make good mileage each day. At night he would head off into whatever stand of woods he could find and set up camp where he hoped he would not be seen.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a small sound. A soft crunch of leaves. It was subtle. A cracking twig or stick would have sounded like a rifle shot in the still of the night. This sound was quieter. If his senses hadn’t been on alert, he would have missed it. But there it was.

  His rifle was leaning against the tree a few paces from where he sat. Can’t reach for it. That’ll alert whoever is out there. Jason didn’t doubt the sound was human in origin. No animal would make such a noise and few would approach a campfire.

  He stretched and yawned in an exaggerated manner, slid another stick into his small fire and then turned as if looking for more wood. He got up and stepped back, hoping if whoever was approaching saw him, he would look like he was getting more firewood. He slipped into the darkness.

  When he was beyond the light of the campfire, Jason turned and crept to one side from where he had disappeared. When he was sure he would be flanking anyone who approached, he took his 9mm out of its holster, crouched down, and waited. Patience always wins out.

  There it was again. More soft crunches. It sounded like more than one intruder. Jason had no illusions. People approaching surreptitiously at night, not announcing themselves, were up to no good.

  He shielded his eyes from the fire so it wouldn’t affect his night vision. Soon enough he saw a shadow in the brush across from the clearing where he had set up his camp. Two figures, barely more than shadows, emerged with a third trailing behind them. They looked around, their bodies hunched over, expressing caution and fear as they slowly advanced towards the fire.

  “Where’d he go?” Jason heard one of the men ask.

  “Shhh,” came the response.

  “Rifle’s still here. Think whoever was here run off?”

  “How’d he know we was coming?” another replied. “We was quiet as mouses.”

  The men looked around the campsite. Jason had set up his cover tarp and ground cloth, laid his backpack on it, and had pulled his cooking gear out of his pack.

  “Looky here. He’s got some food. Those army pouches, whaddaya call them?”

  “MREs, the first man replied.”


  “Could use some of that,” the second voice said.

  “He left his rifle. Looks like a good one,” the first man said.

  “What if he ain’t run off?” The third voice said. It was a lighter, younger voice, not as gruff as the first two.

  “If he ain’t, he’s in for trouble. We’re taking all this. Who knows what else’s in the pack?” the first voice said.

  They brought the food and pot over near the campfire.

  Jason spoke now. “Got you boys covered. There’s two of us. You make a move, two will die and the third won’t get three steps before he’ll join you.”

  The men froze and looked around wildly.

  “He got a partner?” one of them whispered.

  “Can’t. We’d a seen him,” the second man replied.

  “Put your weapons next to the fire and lay down on the ground. Now!” Jason’s spoke with a sharp voice. “Feet towards the fire, face down. Put your hands on the back of your head.”

  The men still didn’t move.

  “Do it now and you probably won’t die. Don’t, and we’ll shoot you.”

  “It’s only you,” the first man said. “We didn’t see anyone else. You’re bluffing.”

  “You willing to bet on that?”

  “You can’t kill us all ‘fore we get you. Now why don’t you just leave and we’ll let you live.”

  “You don’t want no trouble from us,” the second man said.

  The two men had turned towards the sound of Jason’s voice. They were still holding their rifles.

  “Why don’t you show yourself. Seems like we got a standoff here. Now what’re we gonna do about it?” the first man said.

  “You boys are in a tough spot. I can see you but you can’t see me. I can’t let you go. You’ll be sneaking back up on me. Don’t want to kill you, but if you don’t do what I say, I will.”

  “We do what you say, you’ll just kill us anyway. I ain’t interested in lying down and getting shot in the back.”

  “Do what I say and you got a chance to live.”

  The third one didn’t say anything. He looked smaller, younger than the other two.

  Suddenly one of the men brought his rifle up in Jason’s direction. Jason fired and the man’s rifle went off into the air as he fell. The other got off one shot before Jason’s next shot hit him in the shoulder. He dropped his rifle and cried out. The younger man dropped to the ground at the first shot and cried out, “Don’t shoot me!”

  The second man was reaching for his rifle as Jason approached. Jason shot him in the head. The first man had been hit in the chest. Jason looked at him. He wouldn’t live long. The third figure was just a boy, lying on the ground, whimpering and asking Jason not to shoot him.

  “Your two friends are dead and dying. Why shouldn’t I shoot you?”

  “It wasn’t my idea. I didn’t want to rob you. It was them that made me.”

  “But you came along.”

  “They woulda shot me if I didn’t go along.”

  “Why are you with them anyway? You don’t look like much of an outlaw.”

  “I met ‘em on the road. I was afraid of being alone and they said we’d do better together.”

  “Doing what?”

  The young man hesitated.

  “What is it you were doing?” Jason repeated his question.

  “I guess you could say we was robbing people.” He hurriedly continued, “Not killing them, just taking stuff to stay alive.”

  Jason thought about the other young men he’d come across who’d taken up with bad people. Things had not ended well for them. Bad decisions can lead to dying. Now here was another.

  “Get on your knees,” Jason commanded.

  The young man rolled over. He still had his hands in the air.

  “Put your hands on the back of your head. I’m going to put my gun in the small of your back. You move your hands, I’ll shoot you in the spine. You’ll be paralyzed and your guts destroyed. Not a good way to die, slow and painful.”

  Jason frisked the boy. He only had a sheath knife on him.

  “Sit down,” Jason said. He collected the three rifles and laid them on the other side of the campfire.

  “How’d you find me?”

  “We smelled the smoke. Followed it into the woods. I thought we might get something to eat. I didn’t figure they’d try to rob you.”

  “And try to kill me. You know that’s what they had in mind.”

  “I think they was hoping to run you off.”

  Jason took some paracord and tied the boy’s hands behind his back. When he was done, he went over to a log and sat down.

  “What should I do with you?” Jason asked aloud.

  “You let me go, I’ll be on my way. You won’t see me no more.”

  “Not sure I believe that. Where’d you come from?”

  “Charlotte.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Somewhere’s else. Charlotte’s not a good place. Run by the mob. They make you work hard and beat you if you get out of line.”

  “So, you set out to be an outlaw. That it?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “But you came sneaking up on me, looking to steal what I have.”

  “That’s what they wanted to do. I thought we’d just beg some food off you.”

  The boy’s face brightened in the firelight. “Maybe we could travel together? Help each other out?”

  “I’m not going in your direction.”

  Jason got up to inspect the men’s rifles. There was a bolt-action 30.06, a lever-action 30-30 and a bolt-action .22. It was not a powerful collection of weapons.

  “Which one’s yours?”

  The boy pointed to the .22.

  “You got rounds for it?”

  The boy nodded. “Maybe forty in my knapsack.”

  “What else is in your pack?”

  “Sleeping bag and ground cloth, change of clothes, pot, and canteen.” He paused to stare into the fire. “Don’t have much, really.”

  Jason went over to the boy. “What’s your name?”

  “Chuck. Chuck Bigger.”

  “Well Chuck Bigger, I’m going to tell you a few things and you need to listen carefully. Your life will depend on it.”

  The boy nodded, his wide-open eyes, reflecting the firelight.

  “We’re both going to leave here. Can’t stay with the dead bodies. They’ll attract animals. I’m going to let you live. You’re going to head north and I’m going south. If I see you after we separate, I’ll kill you.” Jason leaned closer to the boy. “Don’t think I’m bluffing. I just killed both of your friends. I’ve killed more men that you can count on your fingers. If you mess up the chance I’m giving you and come back at me, you’ll die like these two and be left for the animals.”

  Chuck was now shaking.

  “Do you understand me?”

  The boy nodded rapidly, too afraid to speak.

  “Now here’s the other thing I want to tell you. If you go to Hillsboro, you’ll find a town that’s run by civilians. I won’t give you a recommendation. You’ll have to convince them to let you in on your own. But if you’re willing to work and contribute, you can find a place there and you won’t have to be on the road where you’ll likely get yourself killed.”

  Jason stood up. He unloaded the rifles and threw the 30.06 and 30-30 into the brush. After that, he pulled a second MRE out of his pack and started heating it. He untied Chuck and told him to eat.

  After eating, Jason retied Chuck’s hands, packed up his gear and then yanked the boy upright. He buried his campfire under dirt and then set out through the dark woods pushing Chuck ahead of him.

  When they got back to the interstate, Jason untied the boy. He handed him his empty rifle. “Now, you remember what I told you?”

  Chuck nodded.

  “Okay. The first thing is you leave,” Jason said, pointing north. “And you don’t come back.”

  “You don’t have to
worry. I’m thankful you didn’t shoot me. I’ll go to Hillsboro and try to get in.”

  “You do that. If you make it, you’ll be one of the lucky ones. I killed a couple of young men like you that had made bad choices. I have no problem killing bad people. People who threaten me or my family. But if you don’t pose a threat, I’ll leave you alone, even if I think you’re not going in the right direction.” He paused for a moment. “You understand what I’m saying to you?”

  The young man nodded.

  “Good. Make good choices and maybe you won’t wind up like those two.” He pointed back to the woods from which they emerged. “But keep this in mind as well. You’ll have to work in Hillsboro. It isn’t a place for the lazy or those who want to cheat.”

  Jason waved him off and watched him walk away. Already the killing begins. Jason felt a weight come over him. The cycle of killing—having to kill—which never seemed to end, was a heaviness that burdened him. It felt like an ominous start to his mission.

  When the boy was out of sight, Jason turned and headed south. Looks like I’m in for a night of walking, he thought.

  As he went along, his mind drifted back to the encounter that precipitated his current trek; a surprise visit from some not very upright citizens of Charlotte.

  Chapter 2

  ___________________________________

  K evin Cameron studied the two men sitting in Steve Warner’s office. Steve had been elected to a full term as mayor of Hillsboro after filling in when Jason Richards had resigned the position. He had called Kevin to attend the meeting. Kevin was in charge of the militia, which had been separated from the town’s police. Kevin worked directly under the authority of the mayor. His militia was in charge of defending the city against external threats.

  “This is Joe Nicoletti,” Steve said, pointing to a thin man with dark, slicked back hair. A scar ran down over his left eye which gave his face a sinister, unbalanced look even when he smiled, as he was doing now.