Burn: Echoes of the End Book 3: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) by Justin Bell & Mike Kraus

Burn: Echoes of the End Book 3: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) by Justin Bell & Mike Kraus

Author:Justin Bell & Mike Kraus [Bell, Justin & Kraus, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2023-11-02T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The doors had all been locked and Scout was hesitant to break a window, so she’d simply made her way around the far wing of the hospital, walking through a tangle of grass and thickets of narrow trees which lined the edge of the wing. There was no sign of anyone lurking about, which didn’t surprise her. With only so many doctors in the hospital, they were likely all gathered in the main building itself, not an area taken up by radiology rooms or administrative offices. Sneaking around as she was in the middle of daylight was unnerving to say the least, but she didn’t have much choice— waiting for night fall was no longer an option. She only hoped that Everett was in some condition to be extracted.

Nearing the corner of the building, she paused, looking out across a rear courtyard, which held a gazebo within a quartet of winding, well-manicured cobblestone paths, a place for doctors and nurses to relax from hectic and stressful shifts. A makeshift patio covered the grass alongside the back edge of the building, tall, glass doors revealing an interior cafeteria within the hospital itself. Scout remained tucked close to the wall and moved toward the glass, a bit uneasy about trying to move past it, just in case anyone was inside, looking out. Pausing by the edge of the glass doors, she squinted and peered through them. The cafeteria was a disaster. Trays littered the floor, several chairs upended with trash and other refuse scattered about a normally well-maintained eating area.

A salad bar had been almost literally ripped apart, metal tubs yanked free and tossed aside, lettuce leaves, tomatoes and baby carrots strewn about. It was clear to Scout that in the early hours of the pipeline disaster, the patients and visitors within the hospital had their own sort of riot, grabbing whatever food they could from the cafeteria in desperation. Scout froze as her shifting gaze landed upon a stitched line of bullet holes that peppered the decorative wall paper of the place, a dull, brown-colored stain mixed among the circular punctures. There was no dead body lying on the floor, but scenes of violence were evident.

With clarity, she recalled the man bursting free of the front door the previous night, firing upon her as she left from dropping off Everett. The doctors outside had made mention of security and how they were likely stealing medications from the hospital and Scout believed she was all too aware who might have been behind whatever violence happened here. Satisfied that nobody else lurked within the depths of the cafeteria, she ran along the patio, tugging her backpack straps and rifle strap to make sure it all remained tightly pressed to her back as she moved. Weaving through tables, complete with folded umbrellas, she crossed the patio and ventured back into the tall grass, which was bordering on the edge of appearing unkept.

Crossing one walking path, she pushed into another grassy section, then reached



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