A Shrouded World (Book 5): Asabron Read online

  A Shrouded World 5

  Asabron

  Mark Tufo

  John O’Brien

  Copyright © 2019 by Mark Tufo/John O’Brien

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedications: John and I would sincerely like to take this spot and thank the best fans and readers either of us could wish for. We truly hope that you enjoy this book!

  To the brave men and women in the military, thank you for all you do.

  Also by Mark Tufo

  Zombie Fallout Series

  Zombie Fallout 1

  Zombie Fallout 2: A Plague Upon Your Family

  Zombie Fallout 3: The End...

  Zombie Fallout 3.5: Dr. Hugh Mann

  Zombie Fallout 4: The End Has Come and Gone

  Zombie Fallout 5: Alive in a Dead World

  Zombie Fallout 6: ‘Til Death Do Us Part

  Zombie Fallout 7: For the Fallen

  Zombie Fallout 8: An Old Beginning

  Zombie Fallout 9: Tattered Remnants

  Zombie Fallout 10: Those Left Behind

  Zombie Fallout 11: Etna Station

  Zombie Fallout 12: Dog Days

  Zombie Fallout 13: A Perfect Betrayal

  Indian Hill

  Indian Hill 1: Encounters

  Indian Hill 2: Reckoning

  Indian Hill 3: Conquest

  Indian Hill 4: From The Ashes

  Indian Hill 5: Into The Fire

  Indian Hill 6: Victory’s Defeat

  Indian Hill 7: Defeat’s Victory

  Lycan Fallout

  Lycan Fallout 1: Rise Of The Werewolf

  Lycan Fallout 2: Fall Of Man

  Lycan Fallout 3: End Of An Age

  Lycan Fallout 4: Immoralty’s Touchstone

  Demon Fallout: The Return

  Lycan Fallout 5: Demon Wars

  Dystance

  Dystance 1: Winters Rising

  Dystance 2: Cedar’s Conflict

  Dystance 3: The Edge Of Decit

  The Book Of Riley A Zombie Tale Books 1-5

  Timothy Series

  Timothy

  Tim 2

  Tim 3: Sliced Diced and Cubed

  The Spirit Clearing

  Callis Rose

  Also by John O’Brien

  Other books by John O’Brien

  A New World Series

  A New World: Chaos

  A New World: Return

  A New World: Sanctuary

  A New World: Taken

  A New World: Awakening

  A New World: Dissension

  A New World: Takedown

  A New World: Conspiracy

  A New World: Reckoning

  A New World: Storm

  Companion Books

  A New World: Untold Stories

  A New World: Untold Stories II

  ARES VIRUS

  Ares Virus: Arctic Storm

  Ares Virus: White Horse

  Ares Virus: Phoenix Rising

  THE THIRD WAVE: EIDOLON

  LIFTING THE VEIL

  Lifting the Veil: Fallen

  Lifting the Veil: Winter

  Lifting the Veil: Emergence

  Lifting the Veil: Risen

  RED TEAM

  Red Team: Strigoi

  Red Team: Lycan

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About The Authors

  A Shrouded World The Series

  1

  Jack Walker

  Walking away from the cabin and the people there is a bit surreal. I mean, Mike has a demon with him and we just fought, what? Angels? And they took Trip to some other land that we’re supposed to helicopter into, where there’s supposedly some archangel. Who helicopters into the lands of mythology? Are we supposed to Rambo in? With the shit I’ve seen, the far-fetched has become the norm. But, angels? Come on!

  I don’t mind telling you that I feel like I’m in over my head with this one. Give me a compound of guerillas and you’re maybe getting back to a place where I’m a little more comfortable. Trip was taken after opening some kind of rip in the fabric of time and space—a rip that the angels are attempting to mend before these Melerforns can invade and wipe away all dimensions, or something like that. That really doesn’t seem like a situation we should be stepping into if I am to be completely honest.

  If I’m reading this whole thing correctly, that tear caused me and Mike to be transported away from our worlds, away from our rightful places, away from our loved ones. Should we be attempting to prevent a fix to that? Kalandar mentioned that the overseers were serving their own interests, and they might be at that. Nevertheless, they are trying to fix whatever it was that Trip tore open.

  The question in my mind is, if we do nothing, will we condemn ourselves to being stuck in this place? My only desire is to return home. But it isn’t exactly like there’s a huge sign in the sky with a blinking arrow pointing the way. Even if there is such a portal, there’s no guarantee that it will take me back. After all, we already tried that once.

  As I’m taking this nature hike with my doppelganger, whom I’m now calling Otter (although that’s my call sign), I’m wondering if perhaps I should be talking to the overseers themselves about getting back home. If they are trying to set things right, then maybe they’d want to go the extra mile. Maybe they’d want to send my sorry ass home.

  However, there’s also the chance that they might just tell me to go outside and play with the other kids. That’s if they don’t just swat me aside like they might an irritating mosquito, or steal my soul or something. I have to say that these overseers, or angels, are certainly not the ones I grew up with. I suppose it could be that each dimension has its own version. I mean, Otter walking beside me is proof that we can have differing versions of ourselves in each dimension. And there was the picture of my other self and my other kids in Atlantis as well.

  Atlantis, Valhalla, this has to be a fucking dream.

  I have to be in a coma somewhere back in my world, lost in my own mind. That’s the only plausible explanation for this insanity. I’ve been cut and bled in each of these worlds; I’ve felt pain and anguish. I’ve done some pretty crazy shit in my life, but nothing nearly so vivid as what I’ve been through in these worlds. If I were to die here, would I actually die in real life? I kind of have a feeling that I might. But, not having a clue what would really happen, it’s in my best interest to stay alive. After all, hasn’t that always been my number one rule?

  The more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe that last statement isn’t entirely true. Sure, I’ve done my best to stay alive, but what does that really mean? I could have taken a nice accounting job somewhere and lived with comfort and ease. For me, I guess staying alive means pushing the boundaries—seeing how close to the edge of life I can get. At least, that was part of my past life.

  Even so, until the shit hit the fan in my world, I was more than content to laze around and enjoy my surroundings. I’d done my time, so to speak, and it was supposed to have been my time to relax. But, the world didn’t see it that way. If I wasn’t actively seeking the adrenaline, then the world saw fit to bring it to me. And that path brought me here, walking away from a cabin in a different world where overseers had taken Trip.


  With regards to that crazy stoned hippy who pulled me from my world—or at least I believe he was responsible—I suppose I should try to save him from whatever trouble he’s in. On the other hand, I’m still harboring a very big grudge, even if deep down I do believe he’s trying to do right. Regardless, I have the feeling that the overseers wouldn’t give me the time of day if I were to ring their doorbell and ask nicely to be sent home. No, Trip is still my best way out of this nightmare.

  I turn to look at the man walking beside me as we make our way cautiously along the hillside. His wariness matches my own. I haven’t heard a single snap of a twig under his boot or brush of limb against his pack. I don’t mind telling you how fucking weird it is to look over and see yourself. I mean, almost every detail is the same, except for the scar he has running from chin to jaw. And, whatever happened to his leg. But the eyes and facial features are identical, down to the color and cut of his hair.

  At the moment, he’s obviously lost in his own thoughts. I can tell from the blank expression, but his gaze is always roving through the trees and he’s careful with his footsteps. Our pauses to look and listen are also mirrors of each other. With the skill he’s shown, I don’t think I’m walking next to just a helicopter pilot. I’m sure he can fly one, but he’s obviously had more training than that.

  “Do you ever get the feeling that maybe you’re on the wrong side?” Otter asks quietly, coming out of whatever thoughts he was drowning in.

  “Always. But, what do you mean?” I answer.

  “I mean, we have a demon with us and we’re supposed to fight angels who have taken Trip. I’m kind of thinking we might be on the wrong side,” Otter states.

  That’s rather weird, him voicing the same thoughts I’ve been having.

  “I honestly don’t know. In my world, the demons were the bad guys and the angels good. So, this whole thing has me thrown for a loop. I feel like I’m immersed in something way the fuck over my head. I suppose I should care about these invading parasites, but to tell the truth, I only really care about getting back home,” I reply.

  “To Lynn?” Otter asks.

  “Yeah, and to my kids. The hope of seeing them again is the only reason I can take the next step.”

  “I can understand that. I don’t know who’s in the worst scenario with that one. You’re with Lynn, but worlds apart. I’m able to see Lynn, but can’t be with her. Which one is worse, do you think?” Otter says.

  I walk a few steps, searching through the tree trunks, looking for any hint of movement or the silhouetted form of someone lying in wait.

  “I honestly don’t know the answer to that one. I think both are equally fucked up situations. For me, she was right there and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. What the hell happened between you two?” I inquire.

  Otter shakes his head. “I definitely screwed the pooch with that one. My dad’s death shook me to my core and I was never the same. I tried to be there, but my mind wasn’t right. We broke up and she eventually ended up with my brother. I don’t blame him for that, but it still stings when I see them together. I had to get the hell away; joined up at the first opportunity. I figured I could lose myself in the military.”

  “I had to get away from Valhalla, away from her and the kids before I totally lost it. Well, that and the fact that I was bringing a very real danger into their lives.”

  “The silvers?”

  “Yeah, night runners. They’re following me somehow. Speaking of which, we need to be finding some shelter before the sun sets,” I state.

  “I’ve met them and they aren’t very fun. Fuckers are smart,” Otter responds. “So, yeah, we need to find someplace. I may know somewhere we can reach before dark.”

  “If it’s a cave, fuck that nonsense. The last cave I visited wasn’t much of a carnival ride. So, quick question, how do you know Trip?”

  “Trip? Oh man, what a character. I met him in the military. You know how there’s always one of those stoner guys on any base?”

  I nod.

  “Well, Trip was obviously that guy. As a matter of fact, he was the one who convinced me to leave,” Otter chuckled, but then quickly shut up and looked away.

  “Okay, two questions. The first, Trip in the military? I have a hard time believing that. There’s no way I can picture him with short hair and, well, behaving.”

  “He wasn’t exactly in the military. Our maintenance is civilian-contracted and he was one of them. He would always ride up on the back of a Harley, sitting behind this woman he claimed was his girlfriend. He seemed to be around wherever I and a few others were hanging out. Without being redundant, he was a trip, and we became good friends.”

  “So, I suppose you know my second question,” I say.

  “Yeah, I kind of fucked up with that one, didn’t I?”

  “No more than I would have,” I reply.

  “Okay, so that little tale I told about being able to merrily stroll onto base and get us inside?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that was not really the whole truth. As a matter of fact, there was very little truth in it,” Otter states.

  “Which part was true?”

  “Well, there is a base,” Otter replies.

  I wait a second, expecting him to say more, but that appears to be it.

  “So, what you’re actually saying is that we have to break into a base, avoid any patrols, and then make off with a helicopter,” I finally say.

  “I believe that adequately sums it up,” Otter responds.

  “Is there any chance this base is in the rear?” I ask.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Well, my day is just getting better and better. Do you at least know where we’re going afterwards? Do you know where this Hvergelmir is?”

  “Nope, not a clue. I was kind of hoping you knew,” Otter replies.

  “It looks like I just received a lifetime membership to the ‘You’re screwed’ club. How far do we have to go to get there?”

  “To the ‘you’re screwed’ club? I think we’re there now.”

  I give him a look of disdain. This little vacation started on a down note and has progressively circled the drain ever since.

  “Okay, I’m just kidding,” Otter says after seeing my expression. “Let me put it this way, we could use a helicopter.”

  “Very funny. So, do you have any ideas on how to get to the base? Your leg isn’t going to hold up for a hike of that magnitude and I’m certainly not interested in it either.”

  “I suppose we could help ourselves to a car. Or, we could go back and ask Bill to lend us his. I, for one, am not overly keen on that idea,” Otter replies.

  “Nor I. Didn’t you say night runners invaded the town?” I inquire.

  “Yeah, but Mike had taken care of things and everyone was fine when we left. The town may be a little on edge, but I’m betting they’re recovering if the night runners don’t keep attacking.”

  “What if we didn’t ask?”

  “You mean, just take it?” Otter asks.

  “Yeah, kind of … maybe … okay, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Well, I bet he won’t be happy about it. But, if I know Bill, he probably has a spare set of keys hidden somewhere … probably stuck in the wheel well or something.”

  “So, I guess if we’re after a vehicle, then we’re heading in the wrong direction.”

  “Another thing—you’re going to have to do something about those clothes before we get close to the base. They look too much like Black Watch. If we’re caught on base, you’ll be shot on sight,” Otter states.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to make sure I’m not seen.”

  “Fair enough,” Otter says.

  I stop suddenly, sniffing the air like a hound who has caught the scent of a rabbit hiding in the bushes. It’s a horrible smell, like something a long time dead. Either a hunter has left a carcass behind or there’s trouble nearby.

  “Do you smell that?�
�� I ask.

  Otter sniffs the air, turning his head in different directions.

  “I don’t smell anything,” he replies after a moment.

  “Trust me, it’s there. There’s something dead,” I reply.

  “Carcass?”

  “Maybe. Or something much worse,” I state.

  “You mean like those zombies we encountered, right?”

  “It could be. I think we need to head downhill a bit and take a look,” I say.

  “No offense, but that sounds like a horrible idea. Why in the world would we want to get closer to them? I say, let ‘em pass.”

  I see a light come on in Otter’s eyes as he answers his own question.

  “Wait, they could be part of that other group we encountered, heading toward Valhalla. Yeah, you’re right, we need to see what they’re up to. But, fair warning, if we need to get away quickly, I don’t have much skedaddle in me.”

  “We’ll just mosey down and take a peek. If they’re on an outing and have their picnic baskets spread out, we’ll let them have their family time. But, if they’re moving toward the town, I think we should be gentlemen and give them a warning. Of course, last time I gave a warning like that, I nearly ended up in a white sports coat.”

  I see Otter squint his eyes, trying to figure out what I mean.

  “You know, the one where they tie the sleeves together,” I add for his benefit.

  “Oh yeah. They’ve been trying to put me in one of those for years now.”