After It Happened (Book 9): Home by Ford Devon C

Author:Ford, Devon C. [Ford, Devon C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic
Publisher: Vulpine Press
Published: 2020-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

NEGOTIATIONS

Steve hadn’t seen a white flag used in as long as he could remember. It started with loud cries of, “Cease fire! Cease fiiiiire,” coming from outside until the occasional sporadic gunshots died away to nothing. Steve risked a peek out of the kitchen window, or at least the gaping hole of jagged glass where one of the windows had been a minute before, and saw a man in camouflage fatigues waving a piece of white cloth about the size of pillow case lazily over his head as though he was trying to bring an aircraft down on his position.

“Stay inside,” Steve told the others. “Cover me if you can but keep back from the windows.”

“Steve, you can’t go ou—”

Steve rounded on the young man who presumed his history with their leader permitted him to make demands of the former pilot.

“Don’t,” Steve snapped, swapping hands holding the weapon to jab his right index finger into the meaty slab of George’s chest above the top of his vest, “tell me what I will and won’t do,” he said firmly. He softened, smiling at the young man who he knew was only trying to look out for him.

“You have your orders,” he said, spinning away and stopping by the back door to take two full, chest-inflating breaths.

“I’m coming out,” he yelled loudly, pausing with his hand on the door handle and silently praying he wouldn’t be peppered with a hail of incoming fire as he put his faith and his life in the honour of dishonourable people. He twisted the handle and pulled, feeling the fresh air hit his face at the same time as the tangy smell of gunfire and fresh blood assaulted his senses. He glanced at the man who had followed him from their vehicle, still unable to recall his name which he put down to the stress of the situation, and tried to force away the look in his dull eyes as he stared up lifelessly.

Steve fought down the feelings that came so naturally and made him want to blame himself for the loss of life, but he made the logical version of himself elbow its way to the front of the mental queue and remind him that he didn’t start this fight.

He cast his eyes up away from the body, being sure to keep his hands away from the grip of the carbine hanging from the sling and regarded the man he was about to enter the ring with.

The man didn’t move other than to ball up the cloth now that it had served its purpose and wipe his hands on it with evident distain before tossing it aside. It was done so in a way that Steve could only take to mean he wouldn’t be offering the opportunity to parlay again, and was a blatant power move to open proceedings before they’d even said a word to one another.

Steve carried on walking towards him, seeing his features come into focus as he neared and hating the man even more with each step.

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