When Was? (Book 2): Who Are You Acquainted With? Read online

  Copyright © 2020 Allison Krueger

  All Rights Reserved

  Also by

  Allison Krueger

  When Was? Part 1: The day will come, when you won't

  CONTENTS:

  The Opening

  Chapter 1: The First Day of the Rest of Your Lives

  Chapter 2: God, or Morgan?

  Chapter 3: An Arm for an Arm

  Chapter 4: Run Away Dog

  Chapter 5: Old Yeller

  Chapter 6: Only the Tippity Top

  Chapter 7: Precious Memories

  Chapter 8: On Thin Ice, Breaking

  Chapter 9: In Cold Water, Freezing

  Chapter 10: Our Last Mistake

  Chapter 11: Guns N’ Balls

  Chapter 12: As Effed as C and K

  Chapter 13: Pick your Poison

  Chapter 14: The Calm Before

  Chapter 15: The Storm

  Chapter 16: A Month is a Year

  Chapter 17: A Leader Has to Do

  Chapter 18: Tubercu-licious

  Chapter 19: Divine

  Chapter 20: SHOTS

  Chapter 21: Already Dead

  Chapter 22: The New First Day of the Rest of Your Lives

  Chapter 23: Bonding over Blood

  Chapter 24: Tribu-Tards

  Chapter 25: Weaknesses

  Chapter 26: Take it All

  Chapter 27: Days Gone

  Chapter 28: Like Old Times

  Chapter 29: The Savior

  Chapter 30: I’ll Make Sure you’re Dead!

  Chapter 31: A New Beginning

  Chapter 32: Be safe

  Chapter 33: Because the day’s gonna come when you won’t

  When Was? Part 3: Preview

  The Opening

  That morning

  The rising sun shined in through the partly open curtain, the light glowed on them as they laid in bed.

  John reached over, rubbing Kesler’s pale freckled arm as she opened her eyes.

  “Good morning,” he said, smiling at her.

  She yawned. “You off to join the night crew?”

  “Yeah, they should be nearin’ the end of it. Me and Janey are gonna head out and help ‘em with what’s left.”

  Struggling to keep her eyes open, she ran her fingers through his beard. “Be careful.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. “I love you.”

  He waited for a moment as Kesler laid there silently, staring at him.

  “I love you,” he repeated with a smile.

  “I heard you. And I’ll tell you when you get back.”

  He let out a soft laugh and kissed her again. “When I get back,” he said, turning around and climbing out of bed.

  Sliding on a pair of black jeans, a light blue khaki shirt and his eyepatch, he grabbed his cowboy hat off the dresser and walked out into the kitchen to see Janey waiting for him at the table.

  He rubbed his eye and yawned. “I never heard you come in.”

  “I was gonna wake you at some point, but I thought you’d want your beauty sleep.”

  He chuckled as he walked over to Rachel’s door and peaked in to see her fast asleep.

  Janey got up and grabbed her heavy blue jacket off the back of the chair. “You ready to go?”

  He stared at Rachel for a moment before closing the door. “Yeah,” he said, pulling out his Colt Python Revolver and checking the ammo. “Let’s get it taken care of.”

  • • •

  Later

  The whole community of the Argentina Safe Zone were on their knees. Men behind them with guns pressed against their heads. They all looked around, wondering what would happen next as Wallace was thrown from the office building. Landing on the ground with his throat slit open and a knife sticking from his forehead.

  “God dammit, ya know what? I just did, not, like him!” Walking out from the building was Morgan Williams, leader of the Acquainted. He was dressed in heavy black work boots, black jeans, a white t-shirt with blood on it, black leather gloves and a biker jacket. His face was clean-shaven and his black hair slicked back. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking around the frightened crowd. “Did you not want him to die?” he asked with a laugh, pointing at Wallace’s corpse.

  • • •

  Earlier

  John, now wearing his brown suede fleece lined jacket, walked with Janey down the road, past the office building and toward the gate.

  “How do you think they’re makin’ out?” Janey asked, pulling a band from her jacket and tying her hair back.

  John nodded at the guard on duty up in his post, signaling him to open the gate. He looked to Janey. “Just fine I imagine. Norman or someone would’ve came back if anything happened.”

  Heading out the gate and beginning their walk into the city, Janey pulled an MP3 player from her jacket. “Here,” she said, handing him one of the earbuds. “We’re gonna be a few minutes.”

  He put it in his ear and listened as Sons & Daughters by The Decemberists started playing. “A few... unless you wanna race?”

  She smiled and shrugged. “We could? But maybe you should save your energy for the dead.”

  “In other words, you don’t wanna get your ass handed to you?”

  She bit her lip and let out a laugh.

  • • •

  Later

  All three leaders of the zone were on their knees in the center of the circle, watching as their people screamed and cried.

  Logan, one of the leaders, began shaking. “Who the hell are you?”

  Walking down the steps with his thumbs in his belt, Morgan walked into the circle and stared at him. “You one of the leaders?”

  “Yes,” he said, standing up and getting in the man's face. His head held high.

  Morgan grinned, licking his teeth as he stared Logan dead in the eyes. “I like that!” He laughed. “You got attitude, you’re not a push over like Wallace.”

  “You better leave, now,” Logan shouted, spitting on the man's shirt.

  Morgan’s smile dropped and his brows lowered. “Fuck, you got some big ol’ balls,” he said, patting Logan’s arm. “Hey, Rory!” he said, looking back to one of his men. “Come here real quick,” he said with a smirk, waving the man over.

  • • •

  Later, in the city

  As they slaughtered the infected, John heard music blasting from down the road. “Keep fighting, I’m gonna shut that off,” he shouted, running toward the noise as his group picked off the remaining infected.

  “John, wait up!” Janey stabbed an infected in the face and chased after him.

  Running through an alley, John turned the corner and saw a bright red Monte Carlo with the windows rolled down, playing the song Play That Funky Music.

  “Whose car?” Janey asked, running up behind him with her hunting knives ready to swing.

  John smirked as he hurried to the window and took out the keys. “Kinda reminds me of Pat’s old rig.”

  “’Cause it is!” Walking around the side of a building, zippering his pants, was John and Janey’s old friend, Patrick Shultz, who went missing from Argentina in the early days of the outbreak. “Long time no see, Johnny,” he said, running his fingers through his curly black hair. “Janey.”

  • • •

  Heading back with Patrick

  The group neared the Argentina wall, and John saw a long white box truck parked in front of the wide-open gate.

  “John?” Patrick asked.

  John poked his head out of the window and watched armed men load boxes into the truck. “What?”

  “This is the place we’re workin’... I know you run it.”

&nbs
p; John’s jaw dropped and his heart stopped. Getting out of the passenger seat of the truck, was the now one armed, Lieutenant Gordon Bernthal. The former leader of the Argentina safe zone, and the man John left for dead at the bar.

  “I know what you did to Gordon... Chopped off his arm, left him to get eaten alive... Gordon’s been Acquainted.” Patrick stopped the car behind the truck. “Morgan asked me to be the one to pick you up. With most of your men distracted with the horde, they got in, rounded everyone up in a pretty little circle, and now everybody's gonna die... Unless all the leaders, that includes you, step inside, and kiss his ass.”

  • • •

  Not long after, the circle

  Running up to Morgan was Rory, a tall bald-headed man with a curly brown beard. “Yes, sir?”

  Reaching to Rory’s belt, Morgan took his hammer. “Thank you, you can go sit down now,” he said as Rory left.

  He put his sights back on the leader. “What’s your name?” Morgan asked, running his fingers up and down the wooden handle of the hammer as he kept eye contact.

  “Logan Taylor, one of the leaders of the Argentina safe zone!”

  He smiled and nodded. “Do you like it here?”

  “This place has become my life.”

  “Well, funny you put it like that, because your life, is OVER!” he shouted, swinging the hammer.

  Chapter 1:

  The First Day of the Rest of Your Lives

  Present time

  The circle of people, all on their knees and with guns to their heads were screaming and crying. The sight of two of their leaders on their knees and another dead on the ground was horrifying.

  Morgan Williams smiled as he pressed his Desert Eagle under John’s Jaw. “Who, are you, Acquainted with?”

  John’s eyes seemed to pop out of his head as he looked back to Logan’s corpse. Watching the blood pool around his mangled head.

  Morgan backhanded him with his heavy hand. “Don’t look at him, Look at me! Now who the fuck are you Acquainted with? I will not ask you this again!”

  John choked up. “Y- You? You, we’re- I- I’m Acquainted with you?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “Ye- no!” John nodded as tears ran down his face. “I’m Acquainted with you, Morgan.”

  “Fucking right you are!”

  Morgan turned his head and looked at Tom. “Now you,” he said, walking in front of him. “Who are you Acquainted with?”

  “You sir, we’re all acquainted with you!”

  He bit his tongue and let out a laugh. “God damn I like you boys.”

  Looking around the circle, he holstered his pistol. “People of Argentina, I sure as fuck don’t want to have to kill you. I just need you to see how things are gonna go from now on. I killed one of your leaders, not out of anger, but to show who the top fuckin’ dog is! I, am the big bad wolf. I’m the big bad wolf who has no problem blowing your house down, and if you listen to me, I’m also the big bad wolf who'll watch your kids while mommy and daddy go on date night.”

  He glanced back at John. “Your old way of life is over. And today marks the first day of the rest of your lives. Like it you may not, but live with it you sure as fuck must!

  “I’ll be back in a couple days. I just really want this all to sink in right now. Just how fucked you all are."

  John cleared his throat. “Morgan?”

  “No questions,” he yelled, turning to face John. “Christ we are gonna have some fun with you.” Crouching down, he used his pistol to flip John’s eyepatch up.

  Tom coughed, catching Morgan’s attention.

  “I almost forgot!” Morgan grinned, looking back at Fiona, a woman in the crowd who was crying and holding a small girl. He looked back at Tom. “I just assumed, but um, that little girl over there is yours, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, Callie, she’s our daughter.”

  “Kesler, Callie... God you people have some pretty names.” He patted Tom’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt her, but fuck with me, and I promise you, we sure as fuck will take her away... Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” Tom whimpered, staring at Logan’s corpse.

  “Good.”

  He looked back to the crowd with a grin. “Well, just like your buddy on the ground, I am beat!” He laughed. “We’ll be leaving now, but just to make sure you people don’t pussy out on me, I’ll have some men guarding Argentina until I come back.”

  As he began walking down the road, he let out a laugh. “I am as giddy as a schoolboy!”

  “So are we bringing Norman?” an Acquainted asked.

  Morgan looked back at the crowd. “Next time, when he’s actually here. Kinda hard when someone else is out playing with your dog, don’t you think? God you are a fuckin’ idiot.”

  After Morgan and his men left, the crowd of Argentinians slowly got up and began heading back to their homes.

  John rubbed his face, stroking his beard as he stared at Logan’s corpse. “I- I’m sorry.”

  Running over to him, Rachel and Kesler wrapped their arms around him.

  John looked to Tom who was still on his knees, covering his face as he cried over Logan’s body.

  Looking back, he saw Janey. “Hey, do me a favor. Ride out to the city, see how our boys are makin’ out. Find Norman and make sure everybody gets back here.”

  She rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, sure thing. What are you gonna do?”

  He pointed to Logan and rubbed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he backed away from Rachel and Kesler. “I’m gonna burry my brother.”

  • • •

  At the top of the tall metal stair well, Morgan Williams stood on a small metal balcony, overlooking the factory floor full of slaves. The largest room in his enormous Ohio Base.

  He grabbed Hershel by the neck of his sweaty white muscle shirt and threw him against the railing. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “God dammit, Bill, the little bitch damn near bled me to death!” he yelled, shoving his stump in his face.

  Morgan smacked his arm down. “I don’t give a fuck about your arm! You raped that woman, fingered that girl, and KILLED A GOD DAMN BABY!”

  “I had to do what I did- I coulda died out there-”

  “Having your way with those women somehow helped you survive an attack on Argentina? An attack of which you know I sure as fuck would not allow.”

  “Bill, I-”

  “I don’t wanna hear it! I fucking like you Hershel, you wouldn’t be my second in command if I didn’t, and that’s the only thing that saved your ass back there. I planned on having that woman sink that fucking toy of his right in your ugly-ass skull...”

  “You don’t understand-”

  “I UNDERSTAND YOU THINK RULES DON’T APPLY TO YOU! I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU’RE ONE OF THE MOST DISRESPECTFUL ASSHOLES HERE!” Morgan gripped the railing and stared down at the people he had chained up. “Those people- the ones we fucking seize, have more respect for me than you do... And I know you know how close you’re coming, so you better tread mighty fucking carefully, because that ice under you is breaking, and when it breaks, I’ll be there personally to make sure you don’t make it out.”

  Hershel put his head down. “I know, Boss.”

  “Get out of my sight,” he said through his teeth.

  Hershel nodded. “Yes, Boss,” he said as he ran away.

  Morgan looked to the small set of stairs to the left of the balcony. “Come on out, you’re not off the hook either.”

  Stepping down the two metal steps that led to Morgan’s living quarters, Coleman walked up to him, covered in sweat. “Heya, Boss.”

  “You boys were gone for months, what happened?”

  “Hershel lost an arm, we had to find people to fix him up-”

  “Why did he lose an arm?”

  Coleman looked down and shrugged. “...We did a job for Crimson.”

  Morgan smiled. “What do I tell you about working for her?”

  “It gets us supplie
s!”

  “THIER SUPPLIES ARE ALREADY OURS! WE OWN CASCADIA, YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!” Morgan gritted his teeth. “Where were you those three months, and don’t you fucking lie to me.”

  “Woodrow, getting Hershel’s arm looked at! They just got done so we headed back!”

  “If that was true, you’d think that would’ve gotten back to me. You’d also have to wonder why Dominick told me you boys patched him up yourself and fucked off all that time.”

  Coleman trembled. “He lied!”

  “YOU LIE! You fucking lied... And for that, you’ll be burned alive. Just, like, Dominick.”

  Coleman started to cry. “What? Why was Hershel allowed to go?”

  “Because after all the shit he’s pulled- I still believe he’s a good addition to the Acquainted. But hey.” Morgan laughed and reached in his pocket. “If you’re worth keeping around, why don’t you prove it,” he said, pulling out a pocket knife. “I want you to cut your arm off. Just. Like. HIS.” Holding the knife in his teeth, Morgan ripped one of the dirty white sleeves from Coleman’s shirt. “Do it,” he said, holding out the knife. “Give me a nice clean cut, try not to make too much of a mess, the people under us shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

  Coleman took the knife and held it in his shaky hands. It was heavy and black, with a silver scorpion on the handle. Pulling out the shiny silver blade, Coleman stared at it.

  “NOW!”

  Coleman swung the knife, just missing his throat.

  Morgan stepped back. His eyes were wide and he was grinning from ear to ear. “HO-LY-FUCK!”

  Coleman dropped to his knees and cried. “I didn’t mean to, Boss! Please don’t kill me!”

  “I’ll repeat myself in case you didn’t hear it.” He laughed. “HO- LY- FUCK!”

  “Please don’t kill me! I’m sorry, I’ll cut off my arm! I’ll do it!”

  “Is fire honestly that bad? And here I was thinking I was going easy on you...” He shook his head. “Stand up,” he said with a big toothy grin.

  Coleman closed his eyes and forced himself up to his feet, sobbing.

  “Coleman... You know that I can’t let something like that slide. Especially not in front of the workers! ...Now... I have to make an example out of you.”