Manifest Destiny: Part One: Lost In Limbo by Kay Sabra M

Author:Kay, Sabra M. [Kay, Sabra M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-05-13T07:00:00+00:00

He didn't wait for a response. Selah watched him run off and then looked back to Dillon. Gabe did the same. "What now?"

“Let me think. Wait—let’s get out of the damn street.” It was obvious that Dillon was just as bewildered as the rest of the group, but that didn’t stop Selah and Gabe from looking to him for answers.

It was Selah who spoke up. “We should find someplace safe until it the sun rises, then see if there are any survivors.”

“She’s right.” Gabe said, “We can’t do anything right now, it’s too dark and it’s not safe.”

Dillon looked around at the devastation. “Okay, I just feel like we should be searching right now. What Sid needs us?”

“Honestly, I don’t think anyone is here. I think they’re all gone.” Selah spoke quietly, knowing that her fears were probably ridiculous. “I think the Voraks took everyone.”

“Why would they do that? The bodies, too?” Gabe gestured out to the street. “Why would they take the bodies?”

“I don’t know, but I feel pretty damn sure that Sid isn't going to find Alan or anyone else out there."

“What about the soldiers? Where’d they go?”

They stood for a few moments, waiting to hear or see something, some signs of life. When none presented themselves, Dillon shrugged, resigned, and led the way back through the field. Once again, they hopped the chain link fence. They approached a house, but Dillon stopped short of it, and instead moved toward a dilapidated outbuilding, a detached garage. He reached for the cord around his neck that held two keys. He put the smaller key into the lock and led them into the building.

They stood in the dark, waiting while Dillon fumbled around. Finally, he lit a match and moved to a long workbench. There were candles and a lantern. He lit a candle, then went to work on the lantern.

Once the room was sufficiently lit, Selah had a look around. Although the building looked dilapidated on the outside, the inside looked beyond safe and secure, with cinder block walls and sliding doors that looked like they could withstand a sizable blast. There were crates full of food, there were tools, weapons, and sealed boxes of who knows what else.

“Pretty good setup you have here,” Selah observed.

“Not my setup,” Dillon replied. “My brother’s.”

“We need to eat and drink right now, even if we don’t feel like it. We will be useless if we don’t.”

Gabe began poking through one of the crates and produced some canned goods and some beef jerky. They ate in silence. She was in a great deal of pain, now that the immediate danger had passed and her adrenaline had subsided. Her injuries were a noisy din of complaints, each vying for her immediate attention. The pain was secondary to the noise in her brain, though, as she began processing the events of the evening.

Although Death Strikes happened frequently a few years ago, they had slowed down as the population dwindled. What would have provoked the Voraks

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