Live Free or Die Complete Series Boxed Set: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series Read online

  Live Free Or Die™ Complete Series Boxed Set

  (Books 1-3)

  Hayley Lawson

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2018, 2021 Hayley Lawson and Michael Anderle

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

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  First US Edition January 2021

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015-2021 by Michael T. Anderle.

  Contents

  Madness Unleashed

  Madness Rising

  Escaping Madness

  Madness Unleashed

  Live Free Or Die™ Book One

  Prologue

  If you don’t know the Madness, you can’t truly know the Age of Magic.

  Sweden, One Hundred and Fifty Five Years after the World’s Worst Day Ever

  Arthur Drake had brought his friend Howard to his lab to run some tests using the scanners and computers he had recently located in his facility’s basement.

  At that moment Stuart, a younger scientist who was always spying on Arthur, walked into the basement.

  “I told you Arthur was down here. He brought someone who doesn’t even work here. Didn’t you—” Felix cut him off, then took Arthur's elbow and led him to the corner of the room.

  “What are you doing down here?” Felix demanded.

  “It’s my best friend Howard. There’s something wrong with him, and I’ve noticed it in others too. It’s like they are on drugs, but they aren’t. Well, he’s not, anyway, and he needs my help.”

  Felix glanced at Howard. “I have noticed people in town acting unusual. What are you planning to do?”

  Arthur told Felix that his plan had been to run Howard’s blood through the computer and perform a scan on him.

  “I don’t think this computer works. In all the years I’ve been here we’ve never even turned it on.”

  Arthur shrugged. “Do you know why? Isn’t it worth a try? What harm could it do?”

  “I think people forgot about it. I know I did.”

  “Thanks, Felix.”

  Arthur flicked on the switch and everyone stared at the monitor, but it was a moment before the screen came to life.

  He typed his name at the text prompt and numbers started scrolling across the screen, then dashes and more numbers. Ten minutes later Felix rested his hand on Arthur's shoulder, making him jump a little since he was lost in the numbers. “You can use the computers upstairs.”

  Stuart made his way to the computer, his eyes locked on the screen. “Why are you sending messages around the world?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Well, someone is. A message has gone out to all the satellites around the world.”

  The numbers stopped scrolling just then; apparently the routine was complete. Arthur awkwardly smiled at Stuart. “What did the message say?” Stuart's eyes were locked on the screen. “Stuart, what did it say?”

  Felix looked at Stuart. “Stuart, answer Arthur.”

  Stuart and Howard looked at Felix, their eyes glowing red.

  It was as if the computer message had triggered their nanocytes.

  Arthur pulled Felix away from Stuart as screams rang throughout the building. Apparently others had gotten the message as well.

  “We have to turn it off.” But before he did, he typed in a new message at the prompt with trembling fingers.

  I released the Madness. Please forgive me. Arthur Drake.

  Chapter One

  The Day the Madness Began

  Siberia, World’s Worst Day Ever +200 years

  It wasn’t every day that someone lost both their mind and their head.

  Ivan stalked through the forest, gripping the hunting bow in his meaty fist. The forest floor was littered with dead branches and brittle pine needles. No matter how softly he tried to move his flabby body, the downed branches crunched under his boots. Each step sounded like a firecracker in the silence, scaring away the animals.

  He was a fucking terrible hunter.

  Out here, he felt like he was all alone in the world, even though he was only about a twenty-minute walk from home. Admittedly, the word “home” might be too affectionate for the two-hundred-year-old underground bunker he lived in. It had been built to protect people from events like the World’s Worst Day Ever.

  Now it served a different purpose—to keep Afana’s property secure.

  As alone as he was, the taunting voices of the guards outside the bunker that morning still echoed in his head. Tank and Knuckles had given Ivan shit as he left. They told him they knew he wouldn’t run away because he’d be too damned hungry before he got to the edge of the forest.

  Ivan had responded with brash bravado, claiming he would bring back enough meat to fill their bellies for a week. He was regretting his words now.

  I should have waited for that prick, Ryder to show me how to catch an animal, Ivan thought.

  He cursed under his breath and pushed on.

  Sometime later, he walked around a thick patch of undergrowth and saw the first animal of the day. A dozen yards away, a black bear sniffed at something on the ground. Despite Ivan’s clumsy gait, the animal hadn’t noticed him.

  He notched an arrow and let it fly. A feeling of triumph surged through him at the thought of returning to the bunker with his prize. He would show them all how badly they’d underestimated him.

  The arrow clattered harmlessly against a tree, ten feet to the left of the creature.

  Fuck!

  Ivan watched as the animal ran off, and he realized it hadn’t been a black bear at all. It was a brown deer. The two looked nothing alike. How could he have gotten the two of them confused?

  He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. They felt hot and prickly.

  Ivan continued deeper into the forest, refusing to go back to the bunker empty-handed. He’d never hear the end of it from the others. They already mocked him for working with the women in the kitchen.

  Ivan spat on the ground and rolled his eyes as he heard the voices of his tormentors running through his head.

  “Perhaps you’d like a pretty dress, Fat Ivan.”

  “You have tits like a woman, is that why you do women’s work, Fat Ivan?”

  “How closely related were your parents, Fat Ivan?”

  They are the stupid ones, not me, Ivan thought. I get all the food I want and hang out with all the women. How is that a bad thing? Those ass clowns can go fuck themselves.

  Salty sweat dripped onto Ivan’s dry lips and made them sting. When he touched the area, he felt something crusty come loose. He picked at it, and a bloody scab about the size of a thumbnail fell into his hand. He tr
ailed his finger across his lips and found more scabs.

  I knew I shouldn’t have gone with Lisa. The guys in the bunker had told Ivan that Lisa was dirty, but he had taken that as a good thing. Clearly, by the state of his lips today, it hadn’t been. Obviously, they hadn’t just meant she was into some kinky shit.

  If I’d known I was going to get the clap I’d have spent that food on someone else instead. Now I’ve got the gift that keeps on giving. Stupid, filthy bitch. Wait until I get back, I’ll make her regret it.

  He took a swig of water and plowed ahead, grunting as he went. Ivan had spent most of his life inside the bunker, and he wasn’t one of the healthiest inhabitants. His weight was making the walk difficult, and his legs trembled beneath him as he crashed through the undergrowth.

  The morning sun was gradually filtered out by the forest canopy as he went deeper. The brightness of the day was soon replaced by puddles of golden-green light on the forest floor interspaced by the shadows of the trees.

  Out of breath and worn out from the unaccustomed exercise, Ivan slumped down with his back against a tree. With any luck, his next target would come to him. It was a long shot, but if he stayed still then maybe he wouldn’t scare the animals away.

  Ivan didn’t remember dozing off, but a subtle rustle in the undergrowth nearby teased him from his dream. His plan had worked. A deer nibbled on green stalks sprouting from between the dead leaves. The animal had its back to him, unaware of the predator awakening behind it.

  He nocked an arrow and moved as slowly as he could, drawing the bowstring back as he stood. But before he could release the arrow, the bowstring snapped under the tension, narrowly missing his eye with the snap-back.

  What the hell?

  He rubbed his cheek gingerly, feeling a welt forming where the bowstring had connected. His movements alerted the deer to his presence. Ivan cursed his failure as it bounded off into the trees.

  Ivan exhaled heavily and leaned against the tree. He looked down, berating himself for screwing things up. That was when he noticed the angry red sores covering the backs of his hands.

  They looked like insect bites, he poked at one to see if it was painful but he felt nothing. Then he scratched it but he had no sensation at all, even though the sore had opened and had begun to weep. What the fuck was this? He turned his hand over, and there were more bumps on his palms.

  Ivan thrust away from the tree and stumbled over to a patch of sunlight to get a better look. The rich glow illuminated the blood seeping from the open sores, giving it an unearthly shine. Needles of panic stabbed at his insides.

  This was much worse than a few measly insect bites.

  He lifted his T-shirt to reveal the fleshy mound of his overgrown stomach. The sight of his skin caused his heart to flip as his adrenaline spiked, it was covered in the same weeping lesions as his hands. How did I not notice it? They looked painful, but he had no sensation at all. Ivan‘s confusion was absolute. He pushed at one of the sores with his finger and the skin slid off easily, revealing the inner workings of his hand.

  The sight should have repulsed him, but instead, Ivan’s stomach growled. He was hungry. How long had he been out here in the forest? He thought he’d better get back to the bunker. He needed to get some food, and see one of the medics—kill or no kill.

  As he walked back to the bunker his mind was filled with thoughts of food, none of it what he wanted. But the meals the women made for him seemed unappetizing in his memory – inedible, even. He couldn’t ignore the ache in his stomach, the raw emptiness he felt inside.

  What will I eat?

  He stopped and stared at his hands, mesmerized by the cherry-red droplets forming little mounds atop of the sloughing skin before they fell away. The answer was clear.

  Ivan licked his crusty lips. He was hungry for blood.

  Terrier let out a big yawn, and Ryder got a whiff of death breath.

  She grimaced. “Close your fucking mouth, you animal.”

  Terrier frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”

  Ryder shook her head. “When was the last time you cleaned your teeth? You’re going to get an infection.”

  “You’re a dentist and a hunter now?” Terrier grinned, flashing his white teeth. From the outside, they looked perfect. It was the inside of his mouth that worried Ryder.

  “Whatever, Terrier. They’re your teeth. Go ahead and let them rot if you like.”

  “I’ll clean them when we get back,” Terrier chuckled.

  Ryder raised her eyebrow. “Like I don’t know that laugh means you’re lying. It’s okay, leave them. If you want, I can ask Vera to take a look at them.”

  If that won’t get him to clean his teeth, I don’t know what will. Whenever Ryder and Terrier went to Level Six of the bunker to see the kids, Vera was all over Terrier like a bad rash, much to Ryder’s amusement.

  Terrier shuddered. “That’s fucked up, Ryder. My day started off so well. I was looking forward to a bit of hunting, sleeping, and hanging out with the kids. But oh no, you had to spoil it. Now, I can’t stop picturing Vera coming toward me.”

  Terrier was uncomfortable around most women. He didn’t know what to say to them. Ryder was the exception, but she was hiding the fact that she was female from the whole bunker so she didn’t count. She was one of the boys.

  Vera was a different type of female altogether. She didn’t follow the bunker’s rules, and Terrier was terrified of her frequent and unwelcome advances.

  His face scrunched up with worry. “I’m going to go clean them right now. Anything to keep you from sending her my way.”

  Ryder started to laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” he growled. “You know that woman is crazy!”

  “Crazy for your big black dick,” Ryder teased, pointing at her crotch for effect.

  Terrier’s growl became a whimper and she laughed, knowing she was getting under his skin.

  “Why don’t you just give it to her?” she asked. “Then she’ll leave you alone.”

  Terrier was laughing, too, now. “Why don’t you?”

  Ryder leaned closer to him, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Because I seemed to have misplaced my cock.”

  The two of them chuckled as they made their way through the bunker to the exit level. She hoped Terrier would be able to get Vera’s image out of his mind. She was already distracted by her thirst. They’d catch fuck-all on their hunt if his mind was on avoiding Vera when they got back to the bunker.

  The fact that Ryder was masquerading as a male wasn’t the only thing she hid from everyone in the bunker. When Ryder drank water, it affected her like alcohol. A few other men in the bunker had the same issue, except they didn’t see it as a problem. They enjoyed getting drunk on water, and the lack of responsibility that came with the affliction. Ryder kept it to herself, losing control whilst intoxicated and revealing her true gender was her greatest fear. She rationed her water, drinking only what was necessary to keep her alive.

  Terrier was a big help with that. He was the only one in the bunker who knew about her burden, and he would fill her flask for the day with just the right amount to stop her from getting hammered.

  He would give her the daily allowance in the morning. If she drank it all in one go, he would refuse to refill her flask. She’d learned to space her sips out or spend the day drier than a fuck with no foreplay.

  The overwhelming urge to drink consumed Ryder’s thoughts. She was addicted to clear, cold water like an alcoholic to vodka. Unlike an alcoholic, though, Ryder couldn’t go cold turkey —or she’d die of dehydration.

  Some days, she gave in to the urge—unable to resist the sweet relief of quenching her parched throat a single moment longer—but she always paid for it. It was a thin line, and if she crossed it then one day she would pay the ultimate price.

  The two guards standing inside the exit door barely glanced at Terrier and Ryder as they reached the top of the staircase. They went this way every day and the guards alway
s let them pass, along with the other hunters. Anyone else trying to leave would be turned back, or worse. Only the hunters were allowed out of the bunker, Afana decreed it.

  With the exception of Ryder, all the hunters were males. Ryder would only be allowed to leave the bunker as long as her secret remained intact. If her deception was ever uncovered then her death was a given, but to Ryder, it was worth the risk just to feel the sun on her skin.

  Terrier pushed open the heavy metal exit doors, and Ryder inhaled, savoring the day’s first fresh breath. The warm air hit her, sending the nerves tingling across her naked arms. The freedom of being outside made Ryder feel alive. It would be taken from her when the day’s hunting was over, but until then she would make the most of every second.

  The moment soon passed. Other hunters were already outside, loosely clumped together in a group. Ryder could feel Terrier’s eyes on her, making sure she was comfortable with joining the hunting party.

  She knew for sure that one of these assholes would spoil this beautiful day. She wouldn’t care to wager which of the assholes gathered before her it would be, but there was always at least one dickhead in the group intent on fucking things up.

  She wished she could hunt alone with Terrier, but Afana only let the hunters go out in groups of six. If a hunter strayed from the pack, the others would cheerfully hunt him down and bring his head back to the bunker as a trophy.

  Afana would not accept traitors in his domain, and abandoning the bunker was at the top of the “traitorous acts” list. These men would behead their friends, not out of any sense of Justice, but for the promise of a base reward —access to the most desirable women in the bunker.