The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) Read Free

heart. Dr. Williams made up her mind. “Send drones out to Flat Rock, her hometown. That’s where they’ll be.”
    Crespi tapped a drawer in the side of the conference table. It slid open. He picked up the hidden, secure phone. “Consider it done.”
    Charlotte Williams continued to flip through the hard file. She stopped again at the official service portrait of Sheriff Miller. She stared into the other woman’s eyes. She tapped the photo lightly with a blood red fingernail. “Tell them I want Miller and Sheppard alive.”
    “What about any of the others?”
    “They don’t matter.”
    With that, Dr. Williams rose. She tucked the file under her arm. She strode out of the large room, taking the icy tension out of the air. The door closed behind her like the click of a coffin lid.

CHAPTER ONE

    Miller slung the weapons case over her shoulder and headed outside. It was time to say goodbye to Flat Rock, this time maybe for good. She looked up into the intense yellow-blue of the sky near the rising sun, which squatted just an hour or so above the horizon. The desert sand sparkled in the heat. There wasn’t a cloud or carrion bird in the sky. No planes flew over the little town. The air was still, with not even a breeze to stir the dry leaves on the unkempt lawns of the deserted neighborhood. She heard no cars, no television sets, and no radios playing country music.
    Flat Rock was a graveyard. The faint smell of decaying flesh tickled Miller’s nostrils. It was an old scent, not a threat. The town was long dead, and well past rising again.
    Miller closed the door to her home without bothering to lock it. She headed out to the waiting Army Hummer, but stopped in her tracks. “Do I want to know what you are doing with that shovel? It’s a little too big to pick your nose with.”
    Two men stood by a small mound of earth. The scientist Captain Karl Sheppard had dark hair and movie star good looks. Next to him was a tall, muscular biker who sported loud ink, incongruously short hair, and a fresh crop of stubble on his chin. Neither man smiled.
    The big biker spoke up. “Nice Penny. Here we are doing you a solid, and that’s the sweetest thing you can think of to say?”
    Miller set the weapons down on the ground. “What favor could you be doing me with a shovel, Scratch?” Then a sad thought hit her. Her voice cracked when she spoke. “Goddamn it, are you burying poor little Sgt. Pepper?”
    Scratch stood there proudly, fresh dry dirt clinging to his cheek and hands. His intricate tattoos practically glowed with the early morning light. He nodded. “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”
    Miller turned away. She picked up the weapons case, and walked it the rest of the way to the open Hummer. She slid the case into the cargo area in the back, and slammed the lid with a thump. The two men exchanged worried looks.
    Sheppard, said, “Penny, we thought you’d be pleased.”
    “My cat Pepper wasn’t the only poor soul who didn’t make it out of Flat Rock alive,” Miller said. She studied the Hummer’s tires to keep her feelings hidden. “If we stop every twenty feet to bury somebody that never got covered right and say a few words over them, we ain’t going to get very far today.”
    Handing the shorter man the shovel, Scratch walked the ten steps over to where Miller was standing. He lowered his voice. “Hey, are you okay?”
    “I’m fine.”
    He turned her around. He rested his palms on her shoulders. He did not allow her to look away. His touch felt good but Miller flinched and backed up into the vehicle.
    “Talk to me, Penny.”
    Miller gently removed Scratch’s hands. She looked up at him, her face devoid of emotion. It wasn’t easy to pull off. “I’m fine, Scratch. Just finish up what you were doing so we can all get the hell out of here.”
    Scratch let a small, sad frown crawl across his craggy face. Miller knew she had hurt him with that impersonal response, but he was too proud to admit