Movement to Contact by J. R. Jackson

Movement to Contact by J. R. Jackson

Author:J. R. Jackson [Jackson, J. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, Science Fiction
Goodreads: 34373045
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services
Published: 2017-02-01T00:00:00+00:00


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Chapter 18

RMA Sandhurst, Camberley, Surrey, United Kingdom

Jack Larkin stood looking down at the bed that he had recently shared with Leesa Tobias. It was still made from the day that she had been killed. Each night when he returned to the room, he stood at the end of the bed and looked at it. And each night he unrolled his sleeping bag and slept on the floor. His weapons, the sword, handgun, and rifle, were always within reach. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since that day.

What would he say?

The soldiers would nod to him when he passed them in the halls. The civilian survivors would hug the walls and avoid eye contact. Since Leesa’s death, Larkin spent most of his time in their shared room cleaning his weapons and sharpening the sword. Higgins had tried several times to engage him in conversation to no avail.

Larkin was sitting cross-leg on the floor, his back to the hallway, running a whetstone along the edge of the sword, touching up the Appleseed Edge, when Higgins knocked on the doorframe.

“Hey mate,” Higgins said in greeting. Larkin paused in mid stroke not bothering to look up before resuming work on the blade, his primary focus.

Higgins took this as an invitation and stepped into the room. Larkin continued to methodically run the stone along the blade. Higgins looked around the room; Larkin’s pack was leaning against the wall next to the door and the bed didn’t look like it had been slept in.

“You planning on going somewhere?” Higgins asked breaking into the rhythmic sound of the whetstone running along the blade. Larkin paused in his work then continued, ignoring his long time friend.

“Are you going to sit there all day and sharpen that bloody thing?” Higgins asked angrily.

Larkin stopped, turned his head and looked at him from the corner of his eye then continued. Higgins squatted down next to Larkin.

“You can’t lock yourself away in here. People are concerned about you,” Higgins said trying a different tact. Larkin put the whetstone down and picked up a rag to wipe the blade clean. He tossed the rag down and stood up fast enough to unbalance Higgins who fell back against the wall before straightening up. He watched as Larkin walked to the window and looked down the blade, slowly turning it, looking for imperfections.

“Mate, I know you’re having a tough time right now,” Higgins said as he regained his footing. Larkin spun on him and pushed him against the wall, forearm across his throat. Larkin leaned in close to his friend when he spoke.

“You don’t know a bloody thing,” he said in a harsh whisper before he removed his arm.

Higgins slowly reached up and rubbed his neck as Larkin slid the sword into its scabbard on the duty belt and strapped the belt around his waist. He watched as his friend picked up the Browning Hi-Power, ejected the magazine, worked the slide a few times to make sure the chamber was clear then slid the magazine back in and chambered a round.



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