Revolution Rising: Rebirth (Revolution Rising Series Book 1) by Sarah Snyder

Author:Sarah Snyder [Snyder, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Imprint: Independently published
Published: 2017-11-10T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4. progress

The pungent tang of smoke lay heavy in the air, making every breath one of inhaled, rancid water rather than oxygen. Wil’s heaving at his side told Sawyer he was not alone in his struggle to maintain speed through the marsh. Their movements slowed in tandem as they reached the threshold of dark and light. Moving with a hushed, hurried harmony, their footsteps mixed with the pat and hiss of the rain as it cooled the burning buildings ahead of them. Each step irrigated the seed of trepidation in Sawyer’s gut, twisting vines of unease around his extremities and drawing him to an eventual halt behind the last row of dwellings. Sawyer hesitated to step into the exposed courtyard beyond; “Something’s wrong.”

“What? Did you see something?” Sawyer raised a hand to silence him.

It was not the sights – the fading flames, plumes of black smoke forming overhead, and flickering lights – nor the unpleasant mingling of acrid smoke with the standard night aromas of oxidation and decay which disturbed him. It was the sounds – or lack thereof – which drew his concern. Silent, still, standing in the rain, Sawyer wondered: “Where is everyone?”

“What do you mean?”

Beneath the crackling and popping of failing embers, the grounds were quiet and still. No sirens of warning; no shuttles spooled to carry innocents to safety; no rush of people to offer aid to the wounded – no wounded. The hum and pop of the generators in the electrical shed seemed jagged in the night; the lights set around the main buildings flared and dimmed. There were no footprints in the mud mounded between puddles, nor were there any sounds of human habitation drifting on the breeze. Sawyer wondered how such an attack could go without reaction. There should be terrified colonists seeking aid or shelter from the attack, other squads geared up and ready to fight back, or at least a random Admin barking orders into a communication device; there was only silence.

“There should be sirens, squads entering formation, people running around,” Sawyer looked around them. “They couldn’t have evacuated everyone this fast. Where is everyone?”

“Let’s keep moving.” Wil’s whisper seemed abnormally loud.

They stepped around the final row of dwellings, their feet sinking into the soft dirt of the courtyard as they both stuttered at the sight before them. The ground was littered with cold, still bodies: men, women, children, elderly and young, dressed in night clothes, day clothes, and the uniforms of service. There were no bullet holes, no blood; no smell of copper or decaying flesh. Sawyer recognized the faces of those he spoke to regularly: the elderly couple from the dwelling three down from his lay face down in the dirt, their hands clasped still as they’d aided each other to escape; the young parents with the one-year-old baby girl – Celina – were laying in each other’s arms with their daughter on her mother’s chest as if they’d just laid down and went to sleep in the

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