Pedal to the Metal (Riders of the Apocalypse Book 4) by Alex Westmore

Author:Alex Westmore [Westmore, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Broad Winged Books
Published: 2017-01-22T00:00:00+00:00

Dallas’s Journal

She’s always been a fighter, this lover of mine. I knew that the moment I met her, with her rope hanging from her belt like Barbara Stanwyck, her childhood idol in Big Valley. I think the moment I fell in love with her was when I watched her walk precariously across a steel beam over the Bay Bridge.

My girl was fearless back then.

After all we’ve been through, she still is.

I wasn’t surprised she had decided to go in after those prisoners. It’s usually how she operates. Her knee jerk reactions scare me some times, but it’s who she is, and I love her all the more for it. She’s a fighter––I’ll give her that, so I am not the least bit surprised that she wants to keep fighting.

But for what?

There comes a time in every soldier’s life when you realize you are overrun and outgunned, when you know when to fold ‘em, and I think that time has come. We cannot possibly hope to win. Hell, we don’t even know who’s on our side anymore.

After Roper stormed off, we had an impromptu meeting with all of us. I was amazed my people preferred escaping to fighting. We lost three lives last night…killed by marauder bullets. Killed for no damn good reason.

My family is weary and exhausted from the trek across the country. They’ve now heard, firsthand, how the rest of the world hates the United States. We are no longer Americans fighting the undead to reclaim our lives; we are a group of survivors who for the first time, I think, realize we need to find a new place to call home.

So I let Roper speak her piece to see whether or not the majority of the group wished to stay and fight or consider making a move away from this bloody mess.

Not one person sided with her.

Not one.

And I, for one, was thrilled.

I wouldn’t call it a test, but I guess that’s pretty much what it was. I needed to push them hard enough to really see where their hearts were, and their hearts aren’t into fighting any longer.

Who can blame them? We’re nobody’s heroes. We just want to find a place where we can sleep through the night without fear. We need a day, a week, a month of not having to constantly fight.

This is a vital piece of information to know because when people are weary of fighting, they make mistakes…they cause others to get hurt or die.

They die.

I’ve dragged this poor group of ragtag survivors all over hell and back. I’ve made promises I’m unsure I can keep. I’ve sacrificed lives, my own principles, and quite possibly my soul to keep these people alive. To ask them once more to mount an offensive against a foreign invasion was too much even for me.

I knew they’d do it if I asked.

I didn’t have the heart to. We’ve been fighting non-stop for over a year. Even in Angola, we still had to fight.

Angola, an island in a blood-red sea of carnage.

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