Kill Switch (Notes of Necrosoph Book 4), page 1
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
On Guard
Besties
Woofer Will Die?
Dog OD
A Nice Note
Missing Misfits
Morning Farewells
Huh?
Buying Peaches
Nice Car
Tough Decisions
Getting on With It
Druken Musings
Old Not Friends
Revolution!
On The Beach
Elven Antics
Fun and Games
Meet the Elves
Take That
It Ain't Over Yet
Surprise!
Bernard Gets to the Point
Fun Times
Nowhere to Turn
Hello?
Tales of Woe
Chatting with Phage
That Time Again
Copyright © 2022 Al K. Line
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ON GUARD
"What are you doing?" asked Phage as she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. She looked like an angel. Her hair shone, she was wearing bright crimson lipstick, and had a mischievous smile. I could smell the scent of shampoo mixed with the tang of silage because she'd just been feeding some of the animals. Divine. Heaven on earth.
I lifted the visor and said, "I'm not getting caught out this year. No fucking way. Have at it, you bastards. I'm ready for you." I shook my fist at the ceiling. My armor rattled.
"Where on earth did you get all that stuff?" Phage stifled a chuckle.
"Don't you dare laugh!" I warned. "I got it from a guy. I refuse to be cut, bruised, burned, or stabbed when the note arrives this year. It's the same every bloody time. Daemons coming out of your kettle. Wraiths down the chimney. Damn critters under the floors. Necronotes poking you in the eye. Nope, I'm done with it. Haha. Come on, you buggers."
"So, you thought a helmet, a breastplate, a shield, and a bloody sword would be the answer?" Phage stepped into the room, a pity smile now firmly planted on her sexy face.
There was a hint of perfume. It stirred things under the armor, even at such a stressful time.
"Yes. I did."
"Why didn't you just get a phone box? You could have stood in it and waited for the note."
"Don't be silly. I… Actually, that's not a bad idea!"
"Yes, Soph, it is. It's a terrible idea. So is all that gear. It won't work," she sang, then wandered off into the kitchen, her hips swaying. I noticed she wore very tight black jeans.
What was with her today? Did we have something planned? Was there an anniversary? Nope, just my yearly birthday and all the crap that went with such an ominous date for a poor, weary Necro.
"Have I got a cake? Can we do our special thing?" I called after her.
She returned, smiling. "Look, I'm sorry I forgot your birthday that one time, but you don't have to keep reminding me."
"I didn't say a word."
"You implied it."
"Did not."
"Did too. And yes, we will do your special thing. But no, there isn't a cake."
"Aw, why not?"
"Because there's no butter. There isn't enough flour. The thing they call sugar nowadays tastes like chemicals in a bag, and that's why I was crying and upset and thoroughly pissed off. There isn't enough of anything."
"When were you crying?" Had she been?
"Men," she tutted.
"Just like the war, but with a shitload of cereal, and loads of meat and carrots and veg, and…"
"Shut up! Oh, and happy bloody birthday." Phage stormed off.
"Can we do my favorite thing now?" I shouted hopefully. She slammed a pan on the counter in the kitchen. Guess that was a no.
There was a rustle of paper, a sharp breeze, and then my yearly note shot through the letterbox, whizzed down the hall, and darted straight through the open visor of the helmet. Fuck, didn't think this through. I fell to my knees, choking, as my breathing holes were blocked. I needed them clear. It helped me stay alive.
Mr. Wonderful's head appeared through the catflap. He looked around cautiously, same as always, then his pristine, sleek white body poured through the opening. As I spluttered and choked to death, he glanced my way with blank, bored, cold eyes, then sauntered past.
"I own that catflap. I own the door. I own this hallway. That helmet's mine. That dying man is mine. I don't like swords, but it's mine."
"Help me," I pleaded, communicating mentally with my evil, twisted fuck of a cat.
"I thought we weren't playing our game with the Necronote any more? You said it was stupid."
"But I'm dying. And we didn't play the game. You didn't bring it to me, and I didn't pretend I didn't know what it was. Help me." I tore at the helmet, yanked it off my head, almost tearing my ears off, and locked eyes ready to burst from their sockets with Mr. Wonderful. I choked. My time was nigh. Just my luck. I'd die on the doormat with a cat waiting to suck on my eye juice.
"Fine," sighed Mr. Wonderful, acting like this really was too much bother, because it was. With a glance into the living room where he wanted to curl up and dream of doing evil things to innocent voles, the twisted bastard cat strolled lazily over, hopped up onto my shoulder, and purred.
"What are you doing?"
"Just go with it," he rumbled contentedly.
I turned my head in utter shock at his twisted callousness, then my eyes widened as he grinned and the claws on his right paw extended with an audible snick.
"No, don't!" I pleaded, even as the note fattened in my mouth and the sharp edges stuck fast into my cheeks. I tasted the familiar tang of iron as my gums were torn, then Mr. Wonderful, glint of pure menace and unconcealed delight in his eyes, and a ton of glee, swiped lazily at the soft tissue inside my nostril.
I sneezed, and the note shot from my mouth and slapped soggily into the door. It slid down, landed on the tiles, then jumped like it was in the throes of a seizure. The murderous paper shook itself clean of my pink mouth juices, then sprang up, all the creases and wet gone. Seemingly satisfied, it settled back down, dry as a bone, crisp as the moment it was birthed in the vast, endless Necroverse.
Mr. Wonderful hopped off, stared at me, and said, "You're welcome," before sauntering off into the living room while I gasped and clattered about in my damn armor.
"I need a new plan," I muttered, as I scowled first at the cat, then the note.
"Happy bloody birthday, Soph," I sighed. Pissed, I got to my feet shakily and peered at the docile note. Because of the armor, movement was awkward, so I bent at the waist, legs straight, and as blood poured from my mouth onto the tiles I snatched it up and read the name.
Necrosoph.
Yep, it was for me alright.
With my guts squirming, my chest hammering, and the usual need to go sit on the toilet for several hours overtaking me, I nevertheless unfolded the crisp paper and read the two words it contained.
At least I would have, if I'd been wearing my glasses. All I saw were squiggles, and it appeared like there were more than usual.
I dashed into the living room like the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz, nearly tripped over Mr. Wonderful, who was curled up on the murder rug, and grabbed my glasses.
I gawked at the note, confused. It was coordinates. For years now it had been the stupid two bloody words that you had to open the Necroapp to decipher. This was different. How it used to be. A series of coordinates that pinpointed the location, but not as accurately as the app.
Despite myself, I smiled. It was like old times. I nevertheless pulled my phone from its protective case and input the details.
Nothing.
The colored wheel of death spun around and around, then my phone just died. It shut off completely. Ah well, not like technology hadn't let me down before. I turned it back on, then tried again. That's how you fix things.
Nothing.
No phone signal. No data. No wi-fi. No way to make a call, send a message, or get online. Not to worry, these things happened. We were pretty remote, after all, and sometimes we lost our connection. It'd be back later on. But wanting to know, I searched through the books on the shelf and found the map of the UK, then checked the coordinates that way.
"Oh dear," I said, because I'd promised I'd stop swearing as much. Then added a quiet, "Fuck," under my breath, and looked around guiltily in case anyone but Mr. Wonderful had heard, because screw him. I was in the clear.
Before anything nasty happened, I pocketed the note securely, put a ring around the location on the map, then went into the hall and stuffed the map into my inner jacket pocket and zipped it shut. I wasn't even sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do.
"Soph, have you got a signal?" asked Phage as she sashayed into the hall. Still sexy as hell, I couldn't help but notice, because even under such stress I was still a man.
"Nope, just lost it. Oh, and my note arrived. And I nearly choked to death. Didn't you hear?"
"I thought you were just trying to ge t all that stupid stuff off. Sorry about earlier, and sorry about the note. Did you get the location?"
"Yeah, it was the weirdest thing, though. It was properly old coordinates, like it used to be before your time. No need for the app."
"That's odd. Nothing too far, I hope?"
"You know I can't say. Or can I? We've shared locations before, right?"
"A few times. But best not to. I can't keep track of what we're allowed to do and aren't. Sorry, I wish you didn't get it. "
"Yeah, me too. But it's so bloody familiar now. Just another birthday."
"Just another birthday," Phage agreed. "Um, my name wasn't on it, was it?"
"No, and don't look embarrassed for asking."
"Phew. Haha. Sorry, that sounds callous, but I don't think I could handle that again."
"No, me neither."
"Now, about your present."
My wife smiled lasciviously. I ripped the gear off and chased her upstairs.
Not everything about a Necro's birthday is bad. Some things are very, very good indeed.
Showered, dressed, yet still sweaty, and with a huge grin on my face, I raced downstairs while Phage hopped out of bed and took her turn in the bathroom. With a quick check I was alone, I fired up the laptop and was pleased to discover that the signal was back up and running. Must have been the turn-it-off-and-on-again fix. That's the only way to fix technology, all the rest is just a conspiracy.
I surreptitiously performed a task I had done hundreds of times over the last few months, and clicked and passworded my way to the Necronet. Jen had turned me on to it when she'd spilled the beans about Tyr's power pellets, a.k.a. his poo. She'd been banned from using it as she already knew more than she should, but I couldn't help but wonder what else was there.
Soon, I was utterly addicted. I read and I read and I read. I gasped, I shook my head, and I kept on delving deeper and deeper into the dark underbelly of the Necronet, reading about anything and everything to do with the life of a Necro, and the Necroverse itself. The sad thing was, just like the regular internet, most of it was utter garbage. Full of half-truths or outright lies. I would shake my head, mutter to myself, and keep on clicking.
There was just so much of it. I became consumed. I learned more about Tyr and dragons in general, and seemingly what he'd got up to was entirely to be expected. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I did rather well controlling him the way I had for as long as I had. At least, that's what some guy said on the Necronet, so it must have been true. Why? Because it suited me.
I read about Necronotes, even though I knew I shouldn't, but it was pointless as there was no information, just conjecture, and most of that vague as hell. Seems everyone knew to stick to the rules, and nobody had risked talking too openly about details. And yet I continued to search. To click, to read, and I would be lost for hours in this virtual world.
It was all so new to me. I kind of knew how the web worked, had seen it progress and kept up-to-date with things like smart phones and all the new stuff that came along, but only just. I had never spent much time on the internet as I was a busy guy, and when I wasn't busy I liked to sleep in my chair, devise cunning ways to eliminate Mr. Wonderful, or call Bernard names. A guy only has so many hours in the day, and I needed to fill some of them with insults.
And then we had downtime after the winter killing spree. Phage was done for, Jen was moody, I was still trying to recover from the time before. We toiled away in the garden. I fixed fences, cut hedges, looked after the animals, but instead of sleeping when I could, I stared at a damn screen. I got more into it after our winter and spring work was done, and as the weather warmed and the jobs eased, I had plenty of free time. I spent it on the Necronet. It became almost all-consuming. I was an addict.
It beat killing strangers, but it left me strangely jittery and disassociated from reality. I knew I should go cold turkey, but it seemed like there was always one more thing to check, one more search query to make. And the end result, months down the line on my birthday? I knew hardly fuck all more than I did before, apart from that the Necros who posted online were a bunch of mindless, twatheaded fucks.
And I still hadn't quit.
I sighed, and I clicked. Then the power went out and the connection died too.
"Not again."
I waited for the power to return, tapping my foot impatiently. Everything jumped back to life. But there was no internet connection. I checked my phone. Same thing.
"Hey, what you doing? Like I don't already know." Page smiled sadly at me and licked her lips.
I turned further in my chair and nestled into her belly. "You smell amazing. And I like the new look, with the make-up. Very sexy."
"Thanks. Thought I'd try something different. You honestly like it?"
"Very much. The signal's gone again."
"Take a break then. You have to stop this. You're obsessed."
"I know. I can't help it. It keeps dragging me back in. I'm weak. Nearly as weak as you make me feel every time I look at you or think about you."
"You are such a charmer. So just quit. You already said you've learned next to nothing. And you aren't setting a good example for Jen."
"Hmm, you're right. I should quit." I glanced back at the screen. "Still no signal."
"Come on, shoo. I'm going to make lunch. Can you go get Jen?"
"Sure. No prizes for guessing where she is. She loves it up there with those guys."
"Sure does. And Soph?"
"Yes."
"Stay safe. Be careful. Don't do anything rash this year. It's been a weird time for us lately. We both know there's something going on, but please just do what you have to do and come back to us. Don't go trying to find things out."
"I won't. I promise. I don't want to know, and that's the truth."
"So why the Necronet?"
"Honestly? I don't know. Because it's there? Because the internet is still new and mysterious to me. Because I'm an idiot." I got up and pecked Phage on the cheek, then went to get my daughter.
BESTIES
I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered, "Hey guys. How's everyone doing?" up into Sanctuary, the incredible build my friend and neighbor Job—always say Jobe, but never spell it that way or he'll kick your arse—had spent years building for Tyr and Jen.
Three heads peered over the edge of the topmost platform and smiled. One daughter, one tiger, one dragon, all present and correct. I'd like to say it felt strange seeing them up there, but it was absolutely normal. For a Necro.
"Hey Dad. You coming up?" shouted Jen. She hopped to her feet, then with an acrobatic twist she spun her body around then plopped herself down with her legs dangling over the edge.
My heart skipped a beat, same as always, but I kept the smile on my face even though my upper lip was sweating, and waved. "Um, not today. Just checking you're okay. You coming down for lunch?"
"Sure. Ready to catch me?"
"What!? No, don't jump!" I bellowed.
Jen spun around again, then lay flat on her stomach and hung her head over the side. "Haha, got you."
"You sure did. Tyr, Rocky, you guys good?"
"Tyr happy. With best friends."
"I feel happy too," said Rocky.
"Good, that's good." Damn, there were more teeth up there than in a dentist's bin. I tried not to think about it, that my twelve-year-old was hanging out with creatures able to rip her head off without it being a struggle.
But they were her friends. Her companions. And also her guardians. Tyr loved her dearly, and still wanted to marry her, which was not going to happen. And Rocky had quickly become part of the family. Whereas most of the animals at the zoo liked to live quiet, relaxed lives, Rocky was keen to be outside and explore the world as much as possible. Not surprising when he'd spent his entire life locked up and mistreated, hardly ever leaving a cell of one form or another. Now he hung out with Tyr and Jen, but never roamed, as he understood it wasn't possible for tigers to be seen wandering the Shropshire countryside. There would be questions.
Rocky had struck up a very intense friendship with Tyr, and the two were now pretty much inseparable. They just clicked. Both now lived outdoors in Sanctuary. You would often see them curled up next to each other, Rocky snuggled up to Tyr's belly while they snored away. Sleep was their absolute favorite thing. That, and eating. And Tyr loved a bit of killing and frazzling, as you'd expect of a hormonal, basically teenage dragon.
