Last Stand: The Complete Four-Book Box Set (A Post-Apocalyptic, EMP-Survival Thriller) by Weber William H

Author:Weber, William H. [Weber, William H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

John was being led to the infirmary, that was all he knew, and the first thought to cross his mind was that something had happened to Gregory. His son was so desperate to prove his worth that John could easily imagine him biting off more than he could chew.

“Who got hurt, Devon? Will you at least tell me that much?”

“It’s too complicated,” Devon said as the two of them marched down the sidewalk.

Weeds and dandelions pushed up through the cracks in the concrete and every day the streets smelled more and more of waste and garbage. Oneida was slowly becoming an urban relic from the mid-1800s.

Devon marched along at a good pace. No older than twenty-two or twenty-three, he had the physique of a man, but the face of a boy, with rosy cheeks and eyes that sparkled. He had been one of the Patriots who had helped free the town. Charging in repeatedly under heavy fire, Devon had retrieved four wounded men from the battlefield. The Patriot militia didn’t have any formal way of honoring heroic acts and so John had set one up. They’d called it the Medal of Daring, a recognition bestowed on any member of the community who went above and beyond the call of duty. It was fashioned from spent 5.56 shell casings and a piece of fabric belt. Devon wore it on his chest with pride in spite of its humble creation.

A moment later, the two men arrived at the infirmary. John went in first and entered a dimly lit room. A handful of security personnel were milling about, whispering to one another. All eyes were on a man with shredded clothing and a battered face, lying on a cot. A nurse named Samantha Hill was dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth.

“What happened?” John asked. “Was there an accident?”

Reese was in the corner of the room, leaning back in a chair against the wall. He knocked a cigarette out from a pack with Russian writing on it and lit the tip with a Zippo. Righting his chair, Reese stood and made his way to John.

“I don’t think you should be smoking in here,” John told the sniper. It didn’t matter that Reese and his Remington 700 had played such a vital role in removing the Chairman, not to mention in saving Diane’s life. This was a hospital.

“I don’t know how those Russians smoke these things,” Reese said, examining the pack of Belomorkanal cigarettes. “Why couldn’t those supply trucks we hijacked have been filled with Marlboros? Is that too much to ask?” He dropped the lit cigarette at his feet and put it out with the tip of his shoe. “Our friend here isn’t from Oneida,” Reese told John, pointing to the man. “Stumbled into one of our patrols hobbling through the forest. By the looks of him he hasn’t eaten in days.”

“Is he American?” John asked.

“So far as we can tell. Says his name is David Newbury, that he’s on his way to find his wife and kids.

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