Afterburn: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Next Book 1) by Scott Nicholson

Author:Scott Nicholson [Nicholson, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Haunted Computer Books
Published: 2015-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Objective in sight,” Lt. Randall said.

Capt. Antonelli nodded to affirm the obvious. “Let’s circle it and stay low. Assume it’s occupied until confirmed otherwise.”

“Yes, sir.” Randall motioned the small groups of soldiers into positions on the ridge. Antonelli had established a command post in a direct line with the steel door, which was a hundred yards away and almost hidden by the surrounding rocks and earth.

The buried rear of the bunker offered the most difficult terrain, consisting of jagged granite shelves and few footholds. According to what little intel New Pentagon had given him, that rock promontory held the solar panels, craftily placed so that they were concealed from casual air traffic. That was important at one time, but now secrecy carried little value.

He didn’t want to risk troops ascending those steep cliffs for no reason, so he ordered his staff sergeant to place troops around the base. The bunker had only one entrance, so he didn’t worry about a surprise escape from a hidden tunnel, but a full cordon was textbook strategy for a siege. If it came to a siege.

He focused the binoculars. “Door’s closed. Can’t tell if it’s sealed.”

“If the power’s down, it might be rusted shut,” Randall said. “Want me to take an advance team and check it out?”

“Let’s monitor for a little bit. We’ve got time. We don’t have to be in Asheville for six more days.”

“But, sir, the unit’s been sleeping in the dirt for weeks now. Nice cots and some meals cooked over propane might be a real treat. Not to mention, we could stand to re-up on ammo. We burned a lot of clips last night.”

“Your concern is noted, Lieutenant.” Antonelli shifted the binoculars around the bunker’s perimeter and stopped when their lenses found Colleen. She was among a group of four, all the others male. She sat leaned back against a tree trunk, laughing and joking with the guys, her red hair shining under the rim of her camo helmet.

She’s a lousy soldier, but easy on the eyes. Boosts morale pretty damned good, too. Especially mine.

He’d have to talk with the other soldiers to make sure they took this mission seriously. No one expected any danger in the bunker, and they were relaxed and looking forward to some rest and recreation. Judging from their chatter and bubbling excitement, they saw the bunker as a luxury mountain getaway. They’d already forgotten the battle of the night before and the comrade they’d buried this morning.

Pressure needed a relief valve. If it kept building, the cracks might appear at the most stressful times. The unit had pushed hard, repelled several animal attacks, and covered a hundred miles since breaking from the division in Wytheville, Virginia. The rest of the division split into two commands, one approaching Charlotte via I-77 with mechanized transports and armor and the other sweeping southeast toward Raleigh and Durham.

The collection of vehicles and tanks had looked pretty pathetic compared to Antonelli’s Camp Lejeune post, but as High Command put it, “It’s better than hobby horses and cap guns, so quit your bitching.

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