Blue Fire by John Gilstrap

Author:John Gilstrap [Gilstrap, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Hell Day + 49 (Nineteen Days Later)

ADAM SLAMMED THE BRAKES, AND INSTANTLY CURSED HIMSELF FOR doing so. This was another classic ambush tactic. Anything to get your prey to stop.

Except this guy looked genuinely terrible. He was barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt soaked with blood.

Adam set the parking brake and opened his door.

“Where are you going?” Emma asked. Her tone sounded borderline panicked.

“I’m not going to run over this guy,” Adam replied. “Keep an eye out for threats.”

From the back, a weak voice said, “Mommy, I need a shot.”

Emma’s look of panic deepened. “What do I do?”

“At this point, why not?” Adam said.

The guy on the ground lay on his back, his face partially concealed by the Bronco’s front bumper. That’s how close Adam had come to crushing his head. He moved to the man’s feet and pulled him away from the truck by his ankles.

The man yelped. “Stop. Stop, stop, stop.”

“I’ve got to get you out of the street,” Adam said, but he stopped pulling on the guy and moved to his head. “What happened to you?”

“They came last night,” he said.

“Who came?”

“I don’t know names. It’s been bad for weeks, but not like this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adam said. “How badly hurt are you?”

“They killed Becky last night.”

“Who?”

“Becky. Rebecca Armstrong. The baby too.”

“They killed your baby?”

“We were gonna call him Trey. Robert Armstrong the Third.” A wave of pain washed through him. He winced against it and drew up his knees.

Adam wasn’t getting it. Then he did. “Your wife was pregnant?”

The man nodded, knocking tears from the corners of his eyes.

“Are you Robert Armstrong the Second?”

“Junior. People call me Junior.”

“So, what happened?”

“It was the Army,” Junior said. “A couple dozen of them, loaded for bear. They came to steal shit. When we didn’t have anything—thanks to the other gangs that came through here—they set everything on fire. Started shooting anyone who resisted.” A cough launched a wad of bloody gunk from his throat.

Adam jumped back to dodge it. “I’ll ask you again. How hurt are you? What happened?”

“The guys in uniform—females too, to be honest—crashed into our house.” Another wave of pain passed through him. He took ten seconds or so to let it pass. “We were in bed. They didn’t say anything. I couldn’t have given them anything, but they didn’t ask for it, either. They came through the door, shot me, and that’s all I know. When I woke up . . . they were . . . It was all over.”

“Where are the Army guys now?”

“I don’t know. Around. Somewhere. Everywhere. But it’s not just them anymore. They’re like a disease. They’ve got regular people joining in with them.”

“And they just shoot people and burn things?”

“They recruit. Their thing is to survive by force. It’s a goddamn nightmare.”

“Let me see your wound,” Adam said. Now that he knew what to look for, he could see the hole in his shirt.

Junior slapped Adam’s hand away, and the effort seemed to exhaust him.

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