Primal Resurrection: A Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Novel: Book 8 by W.J. Lundy

Author:W.J. Lundy [Lundy, W.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phalanx Press
Published: 2018-09-14T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Thirty Miles North of Coldwater Compound. Michigan Safe Zone

“He wants you to do what?” Chelsea said, looking at him, not attempting to hide the anger in her voice. She let her eyes move from Brad to Gyles and then back again. They were gathered in the small maintenance break room. “Why would you want to go with them after everything they’ve managed to do to us in just the last day? How is any of this our fight?”

Gyles put his hands up in surrender, but he said nothing, so Chelsea turned to Brad for an answer. “We have to get the civilians out, and this might be the only way. Avoiding Primals is one thing, but combined with the attacks, it’s just too much; there are women and children in there.”

She shook her head. “If you all want them out, then come with us and get them out. Help us lead them north.”

The young soldier nodded, gritting his teeth. “They have too good an eye on the place. If our people come out, they’ll attack. They’ll just wait for them to get out into the open. They’ll attract the zombies to them. They only way to get them out is to hit the zombies and keep them busy while the civilians make their move.”

Chelsea let out a sarcastic laugh. “Why do you know so much about the way they operate?”

Shaking his head, Gyles made a fist and shook it then turned away. “We’ve already been over this. I’ve seen what they do to communities, the way they attack them.”

“And how exactly is that supposed to work? So far, all we’ve done is lose people and equipment. We haven’t done a thing to hurt them—”

“Ahh, that ain’t the case,” Palmer said, raising a hand from where he stood against the kitchenette. “You were sleeping when it happened, but I know I killed a bunch when I destroyed the bookstore.”

“I got blown up, you asshole. I wasn’t sleeping,” Chelsea snapped back.

“Well, however you explain it, we hurt them. It’s not like you said.”

She grunted and shook her head, moving back to Brad. “You don’t have to do this,” she said.

“If I don’t, they might all die—all those people we saw down on that floor. I can’t live with that, can you?”

“Fine,” Chelsea said, turning her back to him and moving around the table to a metal folding chair. “If it’s that important, I’m going with you.”

Brad looked toward Gyles, who shrugged. “I mean, I thought she was injured when I suggested she go back with Palmer, but I guess if she can fight…” Chelsea grunted again and glared at him. “Well, obviously she can fight,” Gyles said, correcting himself. “So yeah, three guns is better than two.”

Palmer ran a hand through his hair. He was still standing in the back of the break room, leaning against the countertop. “So where does that leave me?”

Gyles looked to Chelsea and Brad and, seeing that they weren’t about to speak, cleared his throat and answered.

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