Aftermath (Book 2): Aftermath by Donovan J.S

Author:Donovan, J.S. [Donovan, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | EMP
Published: 2018-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

8

Route 29

In the darkness of night, the 1983 Land Rover shined its dim headlights across the deserted house. Broken chunks of wood and cans of depleted tear gas littered the hallway. Wood planks boarded the windows from the inside.

Guy, the gaunt man with the spider web tattoo, scanned the property with his bug-like eyes. “This place is dead.”

Naomi drew stale air through her nose and opened her truck door. “Come on.”

As a unit, the five of them exited the vehicle. Walking with their backs to the headlights, long humanoid shadows stretched across the damaged walls of Allen’s home.

Holding up her hand-cranked lantern, Naomi stepped over the felled front door and into the hallway. Blood stained the hardwood next to the basement’s entrance. Naomi and the others peered down the rickety steps.

Feeling the weight of the heavy rifle on her back, Naomi descended into the abyss.

The plank stairs groaned with every step.

Her boot touched down the solid concrete floor. Naomi swept the lantern light across a dozen empty shelves. Like felled dominos, they tipped against each other. All that remained of Allen’s supplies were a few broken mason jars that spilled black jam across the floor.

Naomi approached the shelf blocking the secret escape door. A cadaver sat against it with his chin down. Frost lingered in the greying beard. Dark purple blotches spotted his milky skin. Mashed bullets jammed in the Kevlar beneath his tattered camo jacket. Frozen crimson hardened beneath a hole on the man’s forehead.

Slowly, Naomi set down the lantern and took a knee before the fallen soldier. His sorrowful, half-open eyes were downcast. Naomi reached out her pale, bony fingers to the man’s cheek. She stopped herself an inch away, knowing that looking at his eyes would change nothing. She drew her hand back to her chest, keeping it from shaking with her spare hand. With hollow eyes, she turned around to her companions.

Her head slightly down, Ms. Banks had her fingers interlocked in front of her as if she were the Virgin Mary in prayer. Calvin Baxter’s hand was paused on the way up his scalp. His glossy eyes stared down at the man who had died for him. Arms crossed, Richard refused to look directly at the cadaver. His raven-black hair reflected the light. Hands buried in his thick hoodie’s pockets, Guy’s apathetic bug-like eyes stared at the corpse.

Naomi scanned each one of them. “I brought you here because I wanted you to see Logan’s work. Do you understand why I want him stopped?”

Unblinking, Guy nodded methodically. “We all have our reasons.”

Ms. Banks sniffled. A tear snaked down her cheek. “Thank you for showing me this, Naomi.”

“Can we go?” Richard asked with disgust. “Before we all smell like death, I mean.”

Calvin made no comment.

Naomi stood up, feeling her knees pop. “Lead the way.”

Calvin and the other three exited the way they came in. Naomi headed up the stairs, passing empty shelves and drawers in the study and Allen’s room. A sickening feeling grew in Naomi’s belly, realizing that the Scrapers had taken everything.

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