Retribution: Book Four of the Harvesters Series by Luke R. Mitchell

Author:Luke R. Mitchell [Mitchell, Luke R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2018-01-05T07:00:00+00:00

21

Just a few months ago, had someone told Rachel she was going to be leaving Unity to fight for the fate of the planet, at the very least, she would have called them stupendously imaginative. If they’d told her she’d be fixing up for a road trip with a raknoth, she would have laughed them off-stage.

And yet here she was, staring down from the top of Cheyenne Mountain beside Drogan and Dola and trying to figure out which car it was they were taking.

Life strangeness aside, it was still nice to get outside of the stifling walls of The Complex, even after having only been down there for a day. How some of those people had been living down there for over a decade was beyond her. Actually, it probably explained a few things.

As Dola pointed out from the mountaintop, though, his people didn’t spend all of their time within The Complex. Some hunted. Others tended the crop fields they’d replanted north of the lots after they’d deemed the ones by the main road too much of a giveaway to passing marauders. Some even just stepped out for the occasional stroll—during the allowed hours and in the allowed locations, of course.

Semi-daily strolls outside or no, Rachel still shuddered at the thought of years spent as an inhabitant of The Complex. Maybe she was just a hint claustrophobic. Or maybe the place’s vibe—the creepily zealous raknoth haters with their disguised raknoth leader—just gave her the heebie-jeebies.

Either way, she’d been grateful for the secret lift Dola had excavated up to the mountain’s peak from a hidden room in his office over the long years. Apparently, Dola enjoyed fresh air and sunrises as much as he enjoyed privacy.

Rachel was just relieved to have been spared another mini-interrogation with Zach and his goons, who might’ve initially been glad to see them go but would just as likely have raised hell when they’d realized they meant to return with more people—and quite possibly with more heat on their tails.

Treading quietly was the name of the game here.

“You might as well take my car,” Dola was saying, pointing down from the bushy ridge to the distant stretch of the southern lot. “The blue Subaru Sol down there. I’ve seen to it the vehicle has been well-kept over the years, though I’ve rarely had occasion to use it.”

Rachel followed his pointing finger. She was still wondering how the hell he could even distinguish one car from another at this distance, much less make or model, when Drogan gave an affirmative grunt and turned to her with outstretched arms.

“You are ready, Rachel Cross?”

“Hardly,” Rachel said, deciding for the first time that maybe leaving through the front door wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

Still, it was just falling. Nothing she couldn’t control. Even if it had to be in Drogan’s arms.

“But let’s go,” she added, shifting her arms and her staff so Drogan could scoop her up with one arm under the crook of her knees and the other wrapped behind her back.

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