In the Shadow of the Tiger (The Fighter Series Book 2) Read online

  “Me too, but it’s time to move on.” He whispered.

  Something inside of Eric stirred, something more than just mending the broken emotion. As weeks turned into months, he increased his strength physically and mentally in ways he’d never had before Shay’s death. His drawbacks were making him into a stronger person. He woke long before the rising of the sun running out past the gates until he couldn’t run anymore. He dodged a few bullets. He ran from packs of wild dogs darting through alleys occupied by disgusting vagrants reminding him of what not to be. Still, he needed more.

  He decided to visit the neighbor's gym on the boardwalk, rejoin the human race as well as get some time training. The pier had once been a beautiful place, and somehow the docks had suffered little damage, as well as the buildings that lined them. Vacancies had replaced thriving businesses and glass from broken windows sparkled in the sunlight. The coin operated car ride for children, benches, and the lighthouse across the way had survived.

  Picturing the past was easy. Women in thin-strapped tank tops, painted toenails, hair pulled back behind sunglasses. Sun kissed faces and skirts pulling gently in the breeze. A false laughter pressed through the air. He walked through Tequila Jack's one day, righting tipped over bar stools, picking up remnants of beer mugs and cocktail glasses some intact, some broken. The forty-inch television was intact on the wall, and the faint ghosts of players shadowed the screen.

  With football, baseball and NASCAR extinct, and no Indy car races or Kentucky Derby, no teams for Americans to follow, the televisions held steady blank screens. The void was the camaraderie of sports brought by cheering crowds, Saturday gatherings, and favoritism. His sister would say that with the loss of people there was a loss of color probably because human tempers had flared, destroying the very things they'd created.

  He brushed off the doom and gloom and headed toward PF Chang’s. The infamous horse statue out in front of the restaurant was a landmark, but the oversized letters on the overhead sign now read PF Ch. Steel plates covered the windows and safeguarded by security cameras overhead. When Eric approached the door, it clicked open. He entered as he would any dark, unknown building, his gun drawn and ready to fight.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ONE WEEK AGO

  Axel wasn’t his real name; that nickname he earned in high school because he could play the electric guitar and carry a few tunes. Those tunes were compliments of Guns and Roses. Therefore, his nickname Axel stuck. His real name, Adam, was born into a wealthy politically active family, thus, squashing his dreams of becoming a rock star. Instead, Adam Nash had become a master in International Law in which he'd earned a sizable salary every year before the shift. He owned a handful of properties one of which was a roomy condominium that overlooked Long Beach Harbor. In Prescott, Axel held one of the largest homes in the city.

  His family much like most had not survived the infection. In the first 24 hours of the Shift, he lost his parents in a horrible road rage incident and hours later he'd lost his wife. Her murderer claimed he was Charles Manson. His wife was six months pregnant with their first child. Blood flowed down streets like rivers. Having just left his family at the morgue, Axel killed a teenage boy, no more than 13, threatening to cut off his head with a cleaver. Barely inside his condo and only for a heartbeat, he'd pondered suicide, but then his neighbor, a dear woman of sixty, pounded on his door. He almost hadn't opened it, but he did. Her husband was bearing down on her with a sawed-off shotgun. He killed her husband and pulled her into his condominium saving her life. She still his neighbor. He hadn't a moment to grieve seeing survivors fight off the infected and try to rebuild had given him hope. He knew he could help and he did in those first days of the shift merely by saving people who needed saving. He, like Jack Colton, had the ability to help those in need. Axel’s wisdom to rebuild cities and law reflected a sense of compassion. The Shift showed a great opportunity for the poor, before the infection, to aspire for greater success. The chances for equality heightened. Survivors gained ground, but at the same time, evil was multiplying.

  It had taken almost two years to gain what little control they had over Long Beach harbor. When Jack had approached Axel with a recovery plan, he'd been skeptical, but Jack had stuck around until Axel saw his revelation. Axel imagined renewed energy to become healthy again giving people a purpose for living.

  Axel, having been Ben Colton’s attorney since Jack was in grade school, had known Jack for a long time. Axel goals reflected Jack’s. Helping each other on many occasions created a lasting friendship based on equality. Their country was vulnerable, and that's where Jack came in. The cities needed fixing, and that's where Axel came in. He took a long look at his office the only normalcy he had.

  Axel was meticulously clean, and he wasn't any good at sitting behind a big desk, so his office looked more like a home. There were no chairs just a couch, wet bar, and 40-inch flat screen television pushed flush to the wall. Lavish material objects were unknown to him. A simple desk, chair, and a love seat, modern in style, met his needs. Not the décor for a successful attorney. A three-year-old football game between the Chargers and the Raven's flickered on the television screen. The sounds of announcers, fans, and white noise reminded him of a time long past. There was a little comfort knowing winning a football game wasn’t everything.

  He picked up his pistol when the knock sounded. Glancing over at the monitor, a slender man with beach blonde hair appeared before the camera with a dog at his side.

  Axel pressed a button. “Can I help you?”

  “Eric Collins Mr. Nash, Jack Colton sent me.”

  Axel chuckled. The man on the screen resembled a surfer boy. Jack mentioned a trained killer, and Axel found himself thinking he’d misunderstood him. Axel flipped a switch, and the door clicked. Eric stepped inside his dog by his side.

  “Eric,” Axel said, extending his hand.

  “Jack speaks very highly of you, sir,” Eric said taking his hand firmly in his. The dog sat and didn’t move.

  Axel looked down at the dog, and their eyes met. "Shift."

  “Yes, sir.”

  “May I pet her?” Axel asked impressed not only by the firmness of Eric’s handshake, the way in which Eric addressed him but also by the dog’s training.

  "Sir. Be warned though; she'll be your friend forever."

  “Axel, please! You’re making me feel old.” Axel said bending down to Shift’s level. He let the dog smell his hand and then let his fingers slide down her coat. “Rhodesian Ridgeback.”

  "Yes. I hope you don't mind. Shift goes everywhere I go. My partner."

  “And a good one I bet.”

  “We work well together.”

  As Axel stood, he noticed Eric was just as tall and broad as he was. He could see how the kid could easily play various roles. The all-American good looks would make one question his skills while women would stare at him and men would find themselves slightly jealous. Jack had warned him not to be fooled by the kid’s looks speaking of his covert abilities.

  “Want anything to drink Eric?”

  “Water. Thank you.”

  “Come, sit down.” Axel handed Eric bottled water which was a priceless commodity.

  Eric moved to the corner chair, the place Axel himself liked to sit. Methodically chosen, the chair had the best position if an aggressor busted through the door. Axel watched Eric surveying the room. Like Axel, Eric was evaluating and processing everything he could. Entrance, exit, and weapons included.

  Axel leaned against the front of his desk his legs crossed slightly with his arms folded over his chest. He felt like a professor talking to one of his students. Suddenly Axel felt small next to the desk.

  “I’m just going to get right to the point and then we can do some small talk,” Axel said.

  “Sounds good.”

  “You believe a person can see into the future?” He stopped possibly letting what he’d just asked to soak in and waiting to see how Eric would react.

  �
�Psychics?”

  “It goes a little deeper than that. How open are you to mental time travel?” Axel asked.

  “I’ve seen some good movies, but we aren’t talking about movies, are we? Just tell me what is happening and when you’re finished, I’ll tell you if I believe or don’t. After all, we all survived the Shift. Fair?”

  “Fair.” Axel shifted before going on. “Rumor has it that there are survivors who’ve foreseen what is happening now.”

  “Anyone, you know?” Eric was cool. His expression hadn’t change one-way or the other.

  "The niece of a friend of mine, or more like his wife is a friend. Anyway, Brad could care less about Summer, but Caroline, on the other hand, is Summer’s aunt.”

  “How old is Summer?” Eric asked.

  "16 going on 30. Summer is missing." Axel moved to the chair across from Eric. He leaned forward putting his hands together in a show of confusion. "Look, I have no answers to any of this but what I do know is, someone is doing a whole lot of kidnapping, rumored has it the disappearances have something to do with the diviners."

  “Diviners?” Eric raised his eyebrows.

  “Diviners. It’s what survivors are calling them. People who can see into the future.”

  “Is she the only one missing?”

  “No. About six kids right counting Summer. She's been gone less than 24 hours. I think there's a good chance she's alive."

  Eric steadied Axel’s face. “Jack said you’re logical. He suggested you even believed there was a good reason for why the Shift happened."

  "Isn't there?" Axel said leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin with his fingers as if trying to convince himself of that trait. "Listen, a few weeks before the full moon happened, Summer described events to her Aunt Caroline."

  “She see the Shift?”

  “She saw her parent’s death. She tried to tell her mom, but she thought her daughter was only dreaming, watching too many teen horror flicks. No one listened. Summer made it a point to be with her mother 24/7.” Axel paused. “In the end, Monique and Michael’s lives ended in the exact manner Summer described. Since then, I’ve started listening.” Axel paused.

  Axel’s words soaked into the silence of the room leaving a residue of knowledge that some unknown phenomenon not yet explained sealed everyone’s fate. The same struggle was felt by all making survival most important.

  “Summer slipping out unnoticed more often scares Caroline. She’s helplessly reckless and too smart for her own good. It’s not safe out there. I’ve secured the harbor, but not the port or the beaches. I fear she’s found trouble she can’t handle.”

  “You’ve chewed off a huge chunk of the problem,” Eric said. “This is a big city. She could be anywhere.”

  “Yes yes, I know. I’ve got a bigger problem that’s taken up residence on the Queen Mary. They're a bunch of derelicts trafficking drugs. Rumor has it they take in kids off the streets and use them for bartering. Their agenda is not welcome here, and it's time they move on. I think they are the ones who might have Summer."

  Axel stared at Eric identifying the spark of interest in the man's eyes. If Eric were the man Jack had said, Eric wouldn't refuse a mission. Jack mentioned that Eric needed healing after the loss of his wife. Axel was worried about Summer, but he also knew the girl could handle herself. Axel hadn't lied about the visions; she could see the future.

  “One of my men went aboard, but never returned.” Axel watched as an unsung battle brewed inside Eric. Eric’s silence was almost unnerving to Axel. To keep Eric fresh, Jack suggested Eric do surveillance of the ship. The intel would allow for quicker and safer access for the team.

  Eric stood up. “Do you have a plan?”

  “I was hoping you would,” Axel said.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE DAY BEFORE

  Eric’s job was just surveillance until Jack, and the team arrived. The plan was simple, get in and get out unseen. Tonight, Axel's derelicts were running the generator, and there was a line of dim lights shining ahead. It had taken him most of the night to make his way to the center of the ship slipping past several watchmen who slept while guarding doors and corridors. Complacency had been to Eric's advantage. He'd counted as many as twenty men and no sign of any hostages yet.

  The people on the ship were diverse education and training wise. Most of them hardened thugs resembling escaped prisoners or criminals never caught. Most of them stunk of liquor, body odor and cigar or cigarette smoke making it easy to smell them before they came into sight. He could’ve killed several of them. Eric was to gather necessary information and take it back to Jack.

  After doing a little inspection, he wandered further into the bowels of the ship. Keeping in sync with the shadows, he took mental notes. A door opened. Eric quickly made his way down the corridor and towards it hugging the darkness. Stepping just behind a thin crack allowed him to see through the dimly lit room.

  A man who looked to be in his mid-thirties with bleached buzz top hair sat behind a desk. Several candles shadowed his features. As the light bounced off the wall, the head of a dragon tattoo on the man’s neck was illuminated. Behind him, three large black monitors. In front of him, money stacked neatly in five to six piles roughly 5-6 inches high.

  Eric slipped down more corridors into a suite. He withdrew a small LED flashlight and a pocket tablet marking his location. Shift let out a soft whine. He shut off the light. Complete darkness and then a soft glow grew inside the room with what felt like a cold breeze.

  He brought his gun upward. The presence was iridescently surreal and the woman's beauty indescribable. A bluish glow surrounded every inch of her body revealing refined features and porcelain white skin. Her full cherry red lips looked wet, and her eyes shone light silvery blue. Thick eyelashes encased cat shaped eyes and arched eyebrows. Her long blonde hair swooped away from her face and fell in ringlet curls around her shoulders. The red dress sparkled clinging to her hourglass figure. Eric was staring at a Vargas Girl clean out of the fifties.

  “You’re looking for the children?” She whispered.

  “Yes.” He responded unsure if the words had even left his lips.

  She moved toward him. He stared at her. She was striking. Her manner reflected a forgotten and unspoken grace. The room glowed, and he feared someone would see it on the other side. He reached over and yanked the bedcover off stuffing it under the door thinking she'd be gone when he turned around. She wasn't. He blinked several times wondering if he'd passed out or had been wounded. Shift never moved, and her calmness eased Eric's apprehension. The woman was close to him. He could see the separation of gray and blue in her eyes. Her thin nose lifted just slightly as her heart shaped lips parted revealing straight white teeth.

  “Who are you?” Eric asked.

  “The children are in grave danger.” She said. Her voice barely a whisper.

  “Do you know where they are, the children?” He asked. Are you real?

  “Yes.” She said. “And yes.”

  She took another step towards him. Her red dress shifted in all the right directions. Tiny sequins sent sparkles throughout the room. Wordless, Eric was stunned. In her eyes was a gentleness intertwined with a hint of sadness.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am what those children will be if you don’t get them off this ship.”

  “Where are they?”

  "In the belly of the ship. The one called Dragon needs your help.” She took another step toward Eric. What would he find if he reached out to her? The smell of lavender teased his senses playing tricks on his imagination. Eric could see her. He could smell her, and still, there was something non-existent about her.

  “There are others like me. Some of them want to help while others are angry. Watch for them. They will mislead you.”

  “What are you?”

  “A part of the ship.” She said.

  He thought she was reaching out to touch him, but instead pointed to the corridor outside the room. Er
ic felt the cold air. There was a gentle sweeping sensation of fingertips just under the material of his mask. She grew transparent fading into the glow of light that caught his attention first. Within seconds, the slight scent of lavender and the woman disappeared. Little aroma of her presence lingered in the air.

  It was time for him to go.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A stranger occupied her house. There had been no transfer of deed or money exchanged, she just found it and made it her home. Need controlled destiny. Many abandoned homes outnumbered surviving people. She didn't want the house anyway. It held nothing but bad memories for her.

  “I’m not here for the house.” She said to the woman.