Death Orbit by Maloney Mack

Author:Maloney, Mack [Maloney, Mack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781480406780
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2013-04-23T23:07:00+00:00

Twenty-one

MAJOR DONN KURJAN, AKA “Lazarus,” did not fight in the “doomsday” battle for the Kennedy Space Center.

He’d left the morning before. Catching a ride on a cargo plane heading for Boston, he’d been forced to get off at the Newark military air station because the airplane could go no further north.

The reason was the atrocious weather that had been battering most of New England for nearly a week. A major hurricane, unnamed, its strength at the top end of the scale, had been parked off the northeast coast for six days. During that time, winds in excess of 110 mph had shorn whole forests along the Maine coast. Tides running more than 30 feet above the norm had flooded large sections of lower Connecticut and Rhode Island. Mid-sized tornadoes, spawned by the massive storm system, had torn up sections of New Hampshire and Vermont.

Electricity, phone lines, and water systems, shaky in the area since the Big War, were now nonexistent. Disaster relief forces from neighboring states were having a hard time just communicating with each other, never mind with victims caught in the storm’s gigantic swirl. Worst hit was Cape Cod. Here the winds were the highest and the rain the heaviest. Waves the size of tsunamis had been battering the fragile beaches for five days nonstop. Those caught on the Cape and the nearby islands could not get out, just as those who sought to bring relief to them could not get in. Most disheartening of all, UA military weather forecasters could see no end in sight to the massive tempest; indeed, the hurricane was actually gaining strength as the hours went by and not depleting itself, as storms of its ilk usually do.

A search of memories and the record books confirmed it: there had never been a storm quite like this.

So Kurjan’s airplane had been forced to set down at Newark; this was as far north as any UA military airplane dared to travel. Kurjan used his UAAF staff connections to secure an ancient military jeep from the airport security detachment. Once he’d been able to wrangle a tank full of gas, he headed out through New York City, up the rain-slicked highway into Connecticut, over several swaying bridges into Rhode Island, finally reaching the approaches of Cape Cod. The trip, normally a 5- or 6-hour affair, took Kurjan nearly 24, the conditions were that bad.

But this did not deter him. Something deep inside him, the same thing that had somehow graced him with the longevity of a cat and plain old good luck in his military adventures, was now compelling him to get to the Cape at all costs, not matter what. His trip had taken on a surreal edge. He’d somehow survived the night in the swamp during the Norse attack and remained unharmed as the C-5 gunship rained hell down upon earth. Yet in his brief recuperation, all he could think about was how he could get to Cape Code by the quickest means possible.

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