Ascension: Children of The Spear: Book one by Rhett Gervais

Author:Rhett Gervais [Gervais, Rhett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15: A Day at the Front

April 2076

From the transport plane’s tiny window, the city looked like something out of a nightmare, mile after mile of burnt-out, gray concrete and broken glass stretching as far as the eye could see. The once shining towers, a beacon of civilization, now stood like rotting teeth, jagged and vile.

“How can people live like this? Why do they stay?” muttered Arthur under his breath, tugging at the uncomfortable straps that dug into his shoulders.

“I wanna see,” said Gwen, fully draping herself over him from her seat, looking out the tiny window, mouth agape at the destruction. “Fuck, that’s messed up. I always wanted to see Boston, heard it was an awesome party town.”

Feeling her heat on top of him, the apple wood scent of her shampoo in his nose, Arthur had to close his eyes, trying to control his sudden rapid breathing, praying she couldn’t hear his pounding heart.

“What’s the matter, Arthur; you afraid of flying?” said Gwen, suddenly moving off him and giving him a playful shove...and nearly pushed him through the bulkhead of the plane. “Shit, sorry, still not used to being this way.”

Arthur groaned, rubbing his shoulder and blinking away stars. “It’s ok. It’s not every day someone tries to shove me through a titanium wall,” he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile, the smell of her lingering in his nostrils.

Arthur had only flown once before, that night when the major bishop had come for him, and he had spent most of that trip drifting in and out, barely conscious. But he remembered the soft leather seats where he curled up and the plush carpet he buried his toes in. The cabin had been luxurious, warm and welcoming with fine wood panels. It had been just the two of them on that trip, with more room than he had ever needed, the pilot having locked himself away in the cockpit right after takeoff. The overloaded transport was drab in comparison, gray, unpainted titanium walls draped in bright insulation, exposed cables, and the electronic guts of the plane snaking along the length of the cabin. He sat shoulder to shoulder with the airborne infantry that served as a support unit for Divinity Corps, packed in so tight it made him feel claustrophobic. Arthur didn’t miss the major bishop in the least, but his fancy leather chairs would be welcome now. The threadbare padding on the transport’s seats was painful to say the least, so much so that it cut off his circulation, and Arthur had spent most of the trip squirming in place, trying to keep his bum from falling asleep.

“People stay because it is the only home they know,” said Asahi, sitting across from him, his voice sounding strained and tinny over the dull roar of the engines. “My family lived here, before the Russians came. They stayed longer than they should have.” Arthur looked over to see the pale-haired man frowning, clenching and unclenching his fist. In the months since he had met him, Arthur had grown to like the soft-spoken man.

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