Click Click Boom (War Wolves Book 2) by Jonathan Yanez & Justin Sloan

Author:Jonathan Yanez & Justin Sloan [Yanez, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Elder Tree Press
Published: 2017-11-13T07:00:00+00:00

15

Overnight, while the Dreadnaught pounded the Zenoth hives with orbital strikes, Riot lay awake in her bed, staring at the dark ceiling. The constant booming of the Dreadnaught guns was almost soothing in a way. It was a noise Riot knew well; a familiar note in an unfamiliar world.

She ran through the events of the next day in her mind. Riot had coordinated a time to meet Rippa in the hangar where the Grovothe transport ship would take them to the planet’s surface. Their departure was less than eight hours away. More than anything, Riot wanted to sleep, but the weight of leading her unit into battle the next day weighed on her like never before.

A rogue thought whispered in her ear: You just need a taste to take the edge off, the voice cooed. A single shot of whiskey will help you sleep. It would be as easy as walking to the mess hall and ordering a shot. Why shouldn’t she? She deserved it. She more than deserved it.

Riot sat up in her bed. She even got as far as walking to her door. The one thing holding her back was the woman she knew she had to become. If her men were going to have a chance against the Zenoth, the Karnayers, the Ancient Ones if they existed at all, was with Riot at her very best.

Riot forced herself to lie down again. Her mind wandered to her past, to mistakes made and lessons learned, and to Ketrick.

When Riot woke, she understood she was in a dream. Despite how real the empty, white room felt all around her, she knew she had to be imagining it all. Every direction she turned, another white wall. There was no furniture in the room.

Riot walked around the strange room, testing the walls one at a time. The third wall she pressed on blinked once, transitioning from a wall to a window. An old woman sat in a rocking chair. A single light shined down on her wrinkled face. The woman’s aged hands traveled over the familiar shape of a handgun. A Kimber 1911 lay on her lap as she cleaned the weapon before reassembling it.

There was something familiar about the woman. Something Riot knew she should recognize, but for whatever reason, just couldn’t put her finger on. Only the profile of the woman’s face was visible. An idea as to the identity of the woman raced down Riot’s spine.

“No,” Riot breathed out loud. She knocked on the window, trying to gain the old woman’s attention. As soon as her fist made contact with the glass, more lights clicked on in the room.

The woman still didn’t turn.

With more illumination, Riot could tell it was the woman’s small apartment. A clean kitchen with a microwaved dinner for one set out and ready. A made bed and, what Riot guessed was the bathroom, to her right.

“Hey, hey!” Riot shouted, hitting the glass harder. Somehow she already knew who the woman was; still, she had to see her face.

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