Crossroads of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 5) by Benjamin Wallace

Author:Benjamin Wallace [Wallace, Benjamin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-09T04:00:00+00:00

19

King Tut’s was a great place to grab a meal, but in the year that he’d been running passengers up and down the Mississippi, both Jerry and Chewy had grown accustomed to sleeping on the Boomer. It had taken some getting used to. The boat’s rocking had a calming effect at first. Perhaps it unlocked some hidden memory of being swayed to sleep during infancy. The soothing sway didn’t last, however. It shifted from soothing to uncomfortable and then from uncomfortable to sickening. But, somewhere just past hurling, it became expected and familiar, and sleeping in a still bed on dry ground no longer felt right. Oddly enough, whenever he tried, it felt as though he was rocking.

His thoughts had kept him awake his entire life, and he had been pleasantly surprised that the lapping of the river against the hull provided a nice distraction to whatever panic or embarrassment his brain tried to present to him just before he fell asleep. But the water wasn’t always powerful enough to override his subconscious.

Memories haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. The ones that were only brave enough to show themselves when the lights had gone out. To silence them, he opened his eyes, but then the Ketchums’ story played over and over in his mind. He turned over with enough angst to alert Chewy. The mastiff lifted her head, quickly surveyed the situation and collapsed back into a deep snore, completely unconcerned with her friend’s inability to sleep.

He should help them. Shouldn’t he? Helping people was what he did.

No, it was what he used to do. And he had done enough. He had done his part and more. For the first time since everything went to shit, people were really starting to look out for themselves and come together to address threats like the ones facing the Ketchums. And that was how it needed to be handled. They needed to do it themselves. And they were more than capable. They didn’t need his help.

His place was here on the river. He’d spent years helping people and moving on. Oftentimes, never to return. He had forsaken a thousand relationships—true, it was mostly because he wasn’t a huge fan of people—but the world had changed once more, and he took a great satisfaction in bringing people back together. Either in person or by mail.

This was his place now. The river. He was still helping people. It wasn’t right for the world to ask any more of him than it already had. He pulled the sheet over his shoulders, turned over once and tossed them off. Then he stood up and went out onto the deck because he wasn’t going to get any sleep that night.

He dug into a cabinet and pulled out a liquor bottle that was more than half full. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and settled in to watch the people that still lingered in the marketplace. It was late but there was still activity in Cairo. It never truly died here.

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