From Eugene With Love Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Other Books by D. C. Gomez

  Click here to get started: https://bit.ly/2CfJpm7

  Copyright © D. C. Gomez (2019)

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Connect with DC Online

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by D. C. Gomez

  Urban Fantasy:

  Death’s Intern- Book 1 in the Intern Diaries Series

  Plague Unleashed- Book 2 in the Intern Diaries Series

  Forbidden War- Book 3 in the Intern Diaries Series

  The Origins of Constantine- an Intern Diary Novella

  Young Adult

  Another World- Book 1 in the Another World Trilogy

  Women’s Literature:

  The Cat Lady Special

  And a children’s series - Charlie’s Fable

  Charlie, what’s your talent? - Book 1

  Charlie, dare to dream! – Book 2

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  Copyright © D. C. Gomez (2019)

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-1-7333160-1-9

  Published by Gomez Expeditions

  Request to publish work from this book should be sent to:

  [email protected]

  This book is for all the dreamers in this world.

  May you always reach for the stars.

  It was an unusually cool morning for July in the southwest corner of Arkansas—only sixty degrees. Normally by this time of the year, the temperature would be at least seventy-five degrees by seven a.m. According to the locals, one should expect a hot summer since the winter was so mild. Eugene was not complaining. He loved this mild weather. In reality, Eugene loved all the seasons. Anytime he could spend a day outside away from the lab was a great day for him.

  Eugene was the Rookie Intern for Pestilence, who was one of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. She had a horrible reputation with everyone outside the lab. Pestilence was dominating, arrogant, and sometimes condescending, but she truly loved her Interns. Even if she made them call her Mistress and referred to them by numbers…

  The newest member of the team was always the Rookie. After ten years on the job, if they made it that far, they graduated to First, ten years later to Second and so on until Ninth. Pestilence always had ten Interns serving her. Eugene was excited to be recruited since he was the first black male in over one-hundred years to have the job.

  Eugene learned very early on the job that the Rookie always had the worst assignments. He didn’t care. He was living his dream as a scientist in the most advanced lab in the world. Anything he could imagine, he had the resources to create. That was the reason he was standing in the middle of a field in Fulton, Arkansas watching honey bees at seven in the morning.

  “Rookie. One more time, tell me why we are here and not heading towards the Coliseum?” Fourth asked Eugene for the fifth time in less than ten minutes.

  “We are checking the status of my honey bees so we can transport them back to the lab.” Eugene repeated the same answer he had given Fourth five times already.

  “Right, but why now?” Fourth asked, clearly not giving up.

  “I always check my bees on the way to the club,” Eugene admitted.

  Eugene wasn’t technically doing anything against any of the rules they had. He was still doing Pestilence’s work, just making a little detour to run his own experiments before he delivered her goods.

  The Interns were responsible for manufacturing drugs for Pestilence’s underground rave club in Texarkana. Pestilence’s lab was located in Hope, Arkansas, underneath a chicken plant. The lab was less than an hour away from Texarkana, which made it an easy drive. Eugene and Fourth were carrying over one-hundred pounds of straight heroin, methamphetamine, and amphetamine to be diluted in the club to make Ecstasy. They had a huge order due to Pestilence for her upcoming Fourth of July Bash in two days.

  “Hanging out with Death’s people is making you radical,” Fourth finally said after staring at Eugene for a long time. “I’m going to nap. Let me know when you are ready to leave.” Fourth didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he started toward the company car: a hearse.

  Eugene raised his voice. “Aren’t you going to help me?”

  “Rookie, I like your spunk and initiative,” Fourth replied with a huge grin. “Turning honey bees to killer ones, and releasing them back to their environment is brilliant. I’m your man when you bring them back to the lab. But I’m not going to crawl around in a field watching bees. That’s rookie work. Have fun and don’t delay,” Fourth told Eugene as he walked away.

  Eugene just shook his head. Fourth was a brilliant scientist with a background in biogenetic. He was always ahead of his time, but he also liked to sleep and his famous naps lasted hours. Eugene gave up any hope of Fourth helping him catalogue to prepare for the move.

  Moving bees was a tricky business. To safely relocate them, the move should be done at night. At least that was one of the theories Eugene had heard from the local bee-keepers in Texarkana. He never imagined he would find a group of bee-keepers in this area.

  A screeching noise drew his attention, and he turned around just in time to see a couple of men climb into the hearse and slam the doors. He ran for the car, but rocks flew at him from the gravel as they zoomed away. The exhaust pipe popped from the exertion, and Eugene jumped at the sound. Eugene couldn’t believe it, the hearse, the drugs, and Fourth were gone.

  “Oh God,” Eugene mumbled to himself. “I’m so dead.” He dropped his forehead into his palm. What was he going to do?

  Eugene started pacing back and forth. He tried to think of a way to fix this, but his brain had shut down. Next, his mouth went dry, and then his palms started to sweat. He was stranded in the middle of a field in Arkansas. He couldn’t call the lab because they would kill him.

  No, there was only one person he could call right now that would help him without a single judgment. He pulled his cell phone out and dialed.

  “Hello,” answered a male voice from the receiver.

  “Hi Bob. It’s me, Eugene,” Eugene squeaked out.

  “Hey Eugene, what’s going on?” Bob asked.

  The horsemen Interns and their staff didn’t used to get along. Things changed after the incident in May when a disgruntled accountant that used to work for Pestilence set off a zombie plague in the Twin cities of Texarkana. Death convinced Pestilence to let Eugene join her team every weekend and he loved those trips. It got him out of the underground lab for a little while.

  “I have a small problem,” Eugene told Bob, not sure how to break the news to his friend that he lost another case of dangerous substances.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?” Bob asked.

  “I’m kind of stranded at my field of bees. Could you pick me up?” Eugene decided it was probably safer to tell Bob face to face.

  “Do I want to know what happened?” Bob asked.

  “I will tell you when I get to Reapers,” Eugene told Bob.
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  “Okay. I’ll send Shorty to pick you up,” Bob said.

  “Is this a punishment? You don’t even know what I did,” Eugene told Bob, his words rushing from his mouth. His stomach was turning, and he was sure he was going to pass out any minute.

  “Of course it is not a punishment. Shorty just happens to be closer to you. Unless you want to be standing in the middle of a field for at least thirty minutes,” Bob told Eugene.

  Eugene weighed his options. He could stay in the field and wait for Bob or risk his life at the hands of Mad-Max Shorty. If it wasn’t for Fourth being taken in that hearse, he would stay in the field. But his friend’s life could be in danger, so he really had no other options.

  Eugene let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, send Shorty. But if I don’t make it, I’m blaming you.”

  “He is already on his way. Stop being dramatic. You will be fine. Just remember to put on your seatbelt,” Bob told Eugene with a hint of amusement in his voice. “See you in a bit.”

  “You might, but only if I don’t die on the way,” Eugene told the optimistic Bob.

  In less than seven minutes, a huge Ford Truck charged straight at Eugene. Unable to move, he knew he must look like a deer stuck in headlights. Finally, at the last second, he pulled himself from his trance and jumped out of the way, landing flat on the ground right as the truck stopped in the exact spot Eugene had just been standing. The driver side door opened and Shorty jumped out, walking over to Eugene.

  “E, my man, why are you on the ground?” Shorty asked.

  “I swear you do this on purpose to scare the hell out of people,” Eugene told Shorty.

  Shorty laughed and offered Eugene his hand. Shaking his head, Eugene accepted it and dragged himself off the ground. He brushed his now dirt-covered clothing, trying to making himself presentable, but his attempt failed miserably.

  Next to Shorty, Eugene looked like a giant. Even though he stood at only five-foot-nine, Shorty was barely five-four and maybe one-hundred-and-twenty pounds fully dressed. The man was tiny, but like dynamite, he was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Come on E, do you really think I would do that?” Shorty asked, the hint of smirk brushing the corners of his lips.

  Eugene crinkled his eyebrows. Shorty’s attempt to hide his smile told him that he had definitely done it on purpose. Just for good measure, he said, “Yes you would.” Then he went back to trying to clean his coat.

  “Do you always wear your bath robe to the field?” Shorty asked.

  “It is not a bath robe. It’s my lab coat and it’s the standard uniform of Pestilence’s Interns.” Eugene gave up brushing his coat as he finished talking. “Oh never mind. Let’s get this over with.”

  “Great. I have a meeting with the triplets at I-Hop and I don’t want to miss it,” Shorty told Eugene as he ran around the truck. “Where is your corpse-mobile? I know you didn’t walk here.”

  Eugene let out another sigh. “Stolen,” he said as he climbed in the truck.

  “What?” Shorty yelled. “Why didn’t you say that before? We been sitting here losing time. You need to talk to Boss Man. He will know what to do.” Shorty started the truck before Eugene buckled his seatbelt.

  Eugene hoped that Death’s team could help, but more than anything, he dreaded facing one specific member of the team. Isis Black was Death’s North American Intern and one of the most beautiful women Eugene had ever seen. She was tall with silky black hair and a mocha complexion. She was also extremely intelligent and lethal. In fact, he had a feeling Isis could beat him up with one hand. However, even with all her badassery, Isis was also one of the most caring people he knew, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her. This was going to suck.

  Before Eugene could drown himself in his sorrow, Shorty took off. Eugene had just enough time to grab the oh-shit handle before he took the fastest turn in the history of driving.

  “Shorty, don’t get me killed. I’m too young to die!” Eugene screamed, although he had a feeling Shorty still couldn’t hear him. The music was so loud it almost blew out his eardrums.

  “Relax E. I got this,” Shorty said.

  Eugene shrugged. He guessed Shorty had heard him after all.

  Reapers Incorporated was located at the Nash Business Park in Nash, Texas. Needless to say, Eugene and Shorty made it there in record time. That was the fastest drive to Nash that Eugene had ever witnessed—especially from the passenger’s seat. Eugene could feel his heart racing in his chest. He took his heartbeat and by the time they arrived, his heart rate was over one-hundred-and-twenty beats per minute and his hands were shaking. Eugene was sure he was having a panic attack, but was it any wonder when Shorty’s idea of a good time was cutting in front of eighteen-wheelers and driving faster than a State-Trooper on a chase?

  Eugene’s life at the lab hadn’t prepared him for Shorty’s driving.

  Reapers was the headquarters of Death’s team. From the outside, the building looked like every other metal building on the business complex. The only distinct characteristic was the red gothic letters on the name, which Eugene was sure had been ordered by Constantine.

  Constantine was the guardian for all of Death’s Interns, as well as their trainer. He was also a five-thousand-year-old talking cat. Eugene hadn’t known such things existed. He wasn’t used to the supernatural world, and even though he knew it was there, he had very little interaction with it. Until he met Death’s group.

  Eugene and Shorty were part of the team at Reapers, according to Bartholomew. Bartholomew was the resident genius of the group and was only twelve. His duties ranged from hacker, supply sergeant, and occasionally even arms dealer. To expedite their visits, Bartholomew had programmed the security system to recognize both Shorty and Eugene’s handprint and DNA, which saved a lot of time since Reapers had more security than Fort Knox.

  Once Eugene and Shorty scanned their hands on the small electronic pad next to the door, they moved inside the building and walked through the scanning system. Bartholomew once explained that the system looked for everything, including spells, arms, and even food. Eugene was not sure how the food one applied, but he was afraid to ask. Death’s team had strange reasons for doing stuff.

  They made it through the security tunnel, as Eugene referred to it, and crossed the first floor of the building, which was a lot more impressive on the inside. It was set up in sections. Bob had his apartment next to the tunnel at the front of the building. The middle was split between a gym and the parking/maintenance area for their cars. Eugene glanced over as he passed, whispering a quick prayer of thanks when he noticed the blue Mini Cooper that belonged to Isis wasn’t there. The back of the first floor doubled as a shooting range and lab. That was the place Eugene usually confiscated when he needed to work.

  The building had a second floor on the far end. The loft, as Isis called it, was the living quarters for the rest of the team. The front of the loft had an impressive kitchen that Bob claimed for himself, which was fine with everybody since he was the master chef. The rest of the loft housed Bartholomew’s command center and a dining room set. Eugene could see the loft from the first floor since the inside wall was made of glass.

  “Are you planning to stay down here all day?” Shorty asked Eugene.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to face them,” Eugene admitted in a soft tone.

  “Oh come on E, we are family,” Shorty told him. “Yes, Boss Man is going to make fun of you, but Constantine makes fun of everyone. Now relax and let’s get your corpse-mobile back.” Shorty flashed a confident smile and headed up the stairs.

  Eugene searched the room for a way out, but when he couldn’t find one, he sucked it up and followed.

  When Shorty entered the loft, Eugene trailed behind him with his shoulders slumped. He stopped and scanned the room, finding Bartholomew sitting in front of his command station and Constantine napping on top of the leather couch. Bob, of course, was in the kitchen area.

  Bob was Eugene’s favorite. He
was only in his forties, but very wise for his age. Whenever Eugene needed someone to talk to, Bob listened and gave great advice. He’d kind of become Eugene’s mentor, which made this even harder. What if Bob was disappointed in him?

  “Boss Man, we made it,” Shorty told Constantine.

  Constantine yawned and opened his eyes. Then he stretched for what felt like five minutes, taking his Sphinx pose on top of the couch. Finally, he gave them a bored look. “Shorty, you’re slacking. What happened? I was expecting you here at least ten minutes ago.”

  “Sorry Boss Man,” Shorty answered, fidgeting with his shirt. Eugene wondered if Shorty was embarrassed. “I was afraid E would puke in the truck.” He gave Eugene a side glance.

  “Good call,” Bob added. “The smell of puke would never come out.” Bob winked at Eugene. “Have a seat, Eugene. You look a little pale.” Bob pointed towards the dining table.

  Eugene dropped into one of the dining room chairs and waited for the lecture. Instead, everyone just stared at him. After a few awkward moments, Bob handed Eugene a plate of Huevos Rancheros.

  “Thanks,” Eugene mumbled.

  “Everything looks better after a meal,” Bob told him and went back to the kitchen for his coffee.

  “I agree with Bob, but are you going to tell us what happened?” Constantine asked Eugene. “Why were you stranded at your bee field? By the way, have I mentioned your bee idea is nuts? Brilliant, but still nuts,” Constantine told Eugene.

  Eugene fiddled with the bottom of his coat while trying to build his courage. Before he knew it, he blurted out, “Somebody stole the hearse while I was checking on the bees.”

  “That’s it?” Constantine asked. “You are looking this pathetic over the hearse. Why?” Constantine shook his head and mumbled something Eugene couldn’t understand.

  “Fourth was in the hearse when they stole it,” Eugene added, barely able to stop himself from crying.

  “What?” Shorty shouted. “He let himself get stolen?” He tried to cover his mouth to hide his smile, but he was too late.