The Shooting

Ck Westbrook

Description

Life will never be the same for Kate.

After almost every gun owner worldwide turns their weapon on themselves in a terrifying fifteen minute window, Kate Stellute, like the rest of the population, searches for answers. The mass-shooting is so enormous in scale and diabolical, no one can figure out who or what caused it, but after a bizarre encounter with an otherworldly stranger, Kate suddenly finds herself the government's prime suspect.

A mid-level program analyst for Space Force and proud rule follower her entire life, a confused Kate doesn’t know where to turn. She puts trust in a neighbor, NASA biophysicist Sinclair, and with their combined background, they race to unravel the truth before an angry mob closes in.

Kate knows she must formulate a plan to appease the otherworldly stranger, keep herself out of prison, and save the world from more violence…but is she already too late?

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Thriller
• Fiction
• Suicide
• Suspense
• Conspiracy
• Desperate
• Mystery
• Supernatural
• Biophysics
• Investigation
• Mass suicide
• Space Force
• On the run
• Thrillers
• Violence in Society

Informations

• Publié par: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
• Date de parution: 25 mars 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781644504963
• Langue: English

Extrait

Table o f Contents
DEDICATION
ACKNOWL EDGEMENTS:
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
T WENTY-ONE
T WENTY-TWO
TWE NTY-THREE
TW ENTY-FOUR
TW ENTY-FIVE
T WENTY-SIX
TWE NTY-SEVEN
TW ENTY-EIGHT
T WENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
TH IRTY-THREE
T HIRTY-FOUR
T HIRTY-FIVE
T HIRTY-SIX
TH IRTY-SEVEN
TH IRTY-EIGHT
T HIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FO RTY-THREE
F ORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE





The Shooting
Copyright © 2022 CK Westbrook. All rights re served.


4 Horsemen Publication s, Inc.
1497 Main St. S uite 169
Dunedin, FL 34698
4horsemenpublicat ions.com
info@4horsemenpublicat ions.com
Cover by Je n Kotick
Typesetting by Niki Tantillo
Edited by Heath er Teele
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This book is meant as a reference guide. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All brands, quotes, and cited work respectfully belong to the original rights holders and bear no affiliation to the authors or pu blisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 20 22931321
Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-644 50-497-0
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-644 50-552-6
EBook ISBN-13: 978-1-644 50-496-3
Audiobook ISBN-13: 978-1-644 50-495-6
For Taliske r and Ray




ACKNOWL EDGEMENTS:
I want to thank 4 Horsemen Publications for taking a chance on me and this novel. This work of fiction would not exist without the fantastic editing skills, knowledge, support, and friendship of Chelsea. Nor would it exist without my early (and patient) readers, Denise and Nicholas, or my sisters, Shana and Jess, for their constant moral support, advice, and technical help. I am grateful to Lynn for her brilliant expertise and advice. I also want to thank my silent writing partners that were with me from page one to the end, Skye and Talisker. My most profound gratitude and appreciation is for Jeffrey, for his constant support and encouragement of all my crazy adventures, including writing th is novel.






ONE
Th e Shooting
K ate was running along her favorite trail near the creek where the water was low and still from lack of rain. While the D.C. weather was hot and sunny, the trail provided some shade. Unlike the day before when crippling anxious thoughts took over during her run, today Kate tried to channel peace and let herself f eel free.
“There is nothing I can do about anything, so I refuse to worry and be sad,” she mumbled to herself through her bright green band ana mask.
Just breathe and appreciate the green woods, beautiful trees, and singing birds , Kate thought. She waved cheerfully to fellow runners and dog walkers. Few people waved back. The virus seemed to take away people’s desire to be polite, but Kate kept waving and smiling with her eyes.
As she reached the exact place where she’d been overcome with anxiety the day before, Kate’s heart started to race. Not today, anxiety. You got this, Kate. You just need a good song. She paused to change her music on her old iPod and was scrolling for a good playlist when she heard an e xplosion.
What the hell?
She clasped her hands over her ears and squatted down, trying to get low, like shooting drills always recommended. As shots went off like firecrackers, she channeled her breath and stared at the ground, preparing to be hit by s omething.
Lifting her eyes just enough, she tried to assess the scene. What is causing the explosions? What is all the popping? Did a nearby transmission box blow up? A series of car bombs? Has the President’s army of racist misogynists made good on their threat to take over the city?
She scanned around her for other runners on the trail but seemed all alone. The flight or fight instinct took over, but she didn’t know who to fight or in what directio n to run.
The explosions persisted, like hundreds of cars backfiring at the same time. Or fireworks, which were harmful to wildlife. She hated them. She looked around, her hands still covering her ears to soften the sharp, harsh sounds to no avail. Some of the pops seemed close, like just through the woods or across the creek, and others sounded far off, like fireworks downtown near the m onuments.
Another runner came around the bend, heading to ward Kate.
“Run!” she yelled, flying p ast Kate.
“Where?” Kate yelled back. “What is it?” she yelled to the runner’s back, but the runner did not slow down t o answer.
As fast as the cracks, pops, and explosions started, they sl owed down.
She had to get home.
Sweating, breathless, Kate started running as fast as she could for the row house she and Kyle rented together. A few “after pops” went off, making Kate jump every time. They came with less and less frequency—like the last popcorn kernels at the end of the bag in a microwave. Some still sounded so close that she flinched. Others made her look in different directions to see if she could identify what was making all th e racket.
Finally home, she flew up the stairs and tried to put her key in the lock, but her hands were shaking. She didn’t look behind her, afraid an explosion would go off on t he porch.
Kyle opened the door, pulled Kate inside, and slammed it closed b ehind her.


TWO
Th e Shooting
K yle pulled Kate into the house. “Jesus, Kate! I was so worried. What’s going on? Did you hear it? Did you see anything out there?” Kyle said while holding a trembling Kate in his arms. They squeezed each other for a soli d minute.
“I was on the path in the woods when it started. I was terrified,” Kate said, pulling away. “I have no idea wha t it was.”
“Did you see anything exploding out there?” Ky le asked.
“No, just heard what sounded like rapid gunshots. They seemed to come from every direction.” She walked into the living room and searched for the remote. Kate searched the couch cushions and the basket on the coffee table where it was supposed to live, but she and Kyle were both guilty of never returning it to its intended place. She also suspected Kyle hid it from her sometimes in an attempt to break her CNN pandemic death clock addiction. “Where’s the damn remo te, Kyle?”
“Hold on, hold on. I have it here.” He rifled through the papers at his kitchen table desk. “I was trying to save you from the afternoon news.” He turned o n the TV.
“Reports are still coming in and our reporters on the ground are scrambling to make sense of what happened, but we can report what appears to be a series of mass shootings all over the city just moments ago. What’s most confusing is these shots were fired at approximately the same time,” a reporter explained in a voice that sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
A chill ran up her spine at the words “mass shooting ,” which would always remind Kate of Colorado and Theo Mast. A wave of nausea came over her so strong she put her hand over h er mouth.
She flipped from the local news to cable; they too seemed confused.
“Just moments ago, there were multiple shootings in several cities. Our reporters are calling in from New York, Miami, Los Angeles, and here in Atlanta. Right now, all reporters are being told to take cover and stay safe. Everyone, Americans everywhere, should get inside a safe place and wait until law enforcement determines the cause and the c ulprits.”
“Good advice,” Kyle said to the TV. They both just stared at th e screen.
After a few minutes listening to the reporters repeatedly advise people to seek shelter and stay inside, Kate walked to a window and peeked outside.
No cars or buses drove past their block, but she heard sirens off in the distance. They lived on a quiet side street with little traffic on a normal day and even less as a result of the pandemic. But right now, it seemed eerily calm. No people. No cars. Just trees swaying in the ho t breeze.
A loud pop went off across the street. Kyle and Kate both jumped and quickly moved far from th e window.
They looked around the house, like something might explode in their home. Then they looked at each other. Kate saw panic in Kyle’s eyes for the first time in their relationship. Moving quietly, they slowly crept back to the window and peered out at the neighbor’s house across th e street.
At first, it looked quiet an d normal.
“What the fuck is going on?” he whispered. “Why would someone target this neighborhood? No one important li ves here.”
“I don’t know. But look. Does the window look weird or broken?” Kate whispered. “Maybe someone was shot? Part of the mass shooting? Or a home invasion?”
In a protective gesture, Kyle used his arm to back Kate away from th e window.
In silence, Kate checked that the front door was locked, and Kyle ran to check the back. As he passed the kitchen, he grabbed his computer. Kyle drew the living room window curtains tightly closed, then they both ran upstairs to the bedroom which had only one small window. Kate closed