Pushing On_A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller by Ryan Westfield

Author:Ryan Westfield [Westfield, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-07T07:00:00+00:00

17

Kara

The group of new people was happily eating their dinner, asking for second helpings of everything. While Kara had already grown tired of the food, the newcomers were happy to gobble it up as if it was the best thing they’d ever eaten.

“Excuse me for a minute, will you?” said Kara. “I’ve got some business to attend to.”

“This is amazing,” said Mandy, smiling up at Kara.

“Glad you like it,” said Kara, her professional smile on her face.

Kara saw Max glancing at her. There was suspicion in his eyes, and a dark look on his face. And that was aside from all the bruises.

Max didn’t trust her. And that might turn out to be a problem.

Kara took her plates to the wash station in the mess hall, and made her way to the exit. On the way out, she passed by Jeff, who was eating at the end of a long table filled with men.

“I’ve got to talk to you. Meet me outside,” she whispered, leaning down and speaking right into his ear.

As soon as Kara exited the mess hall, that smile she’d been flashing all day fell away. Her face was serious.

In her pre-EMP life, she’d learned how to put on what she’d always called the “client face.” It was a good way to earn trust and inspire confidence. But she’d always found it exhausting, and at the end of the day, it always fell away and she was left with her normal somber face.

She knew she was a good-looking woman. To Kara, her body was just another tool at her disposal. Sure, she liked it just fine for what it was, a body. She knew that her appearance was a big reason that she came across as trustworthy. Before the EMP, she had dressed professionally for work, but in a way that didn’t hide her curves.

Kara was glad that she’d been able to use her abilities bring this new group to the compound. They’d be useful. They were exactly what the group needed.

“What is it?” said Jeff, sidling up next to her.

Unless he was on the radio, he always came across as incredibly low energy. Almost like a sloth. Or worse. But if you could look beyond that slovenly body of his, and the slow-moving eyes, you’d see that in that skull of his, there was a brain that was always running at top speed. He was always calculating, always thinking, always scheming. He wasn’t a bad guy. He certainly wasn’t evil. And neither was Kara. But they both shared a common interest, and that was the continuation of their community. At any cost. No matter what the others thought.

“I’m worried about that one guy.”

“Max?”

“Yeah, the one who always has that brooding look on his face.”

“He could be trouble.”

“You picked up on it too?”

“He doesn’t trust us.”

“And should he?”

“We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do.”

“You think the others will go along with it?”

“The others in the compound?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll make them think it’s a democracy. Just as our constitution says.

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