Squad 19 by Smith Nicholas Sansbury

Author:Smith, Nicholas Sansbury [Smith, Nicholas Sansbury]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alphamale, dystopia, actionadventure, dystopian, postapocalyptic
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

-4-

The vehicle depot reeks of Biomass fuel. It has an unmistakable and pungent smell. I have no idea what the scientists at Tisaia Corporation used to create the first batches of the liquid gold before the Biomass Wars—although I’m told the secret ingredient is hybrid soybeans. Whatever it is, they must have had no idea it would spark World War III.

A pair of soldiers salutes me at the entrance of the garage, and I quickly return the gesture. I still haven’t gotten used to being the commander of Squad 19 even after years of leading men and women into battle. War has a way of molding men into something bigger than themselves for the sake of others whose lives count on them.

Nathar and Ajax are waiting for me at the pickup truck. It’s the same Toyota that got us through the storm, speckled with dents, the paint nearly stripped away from its ancient body. It reminds me of how badly we need another vehicle. Not only are we outnumbered by the Knights, but we are also limited by our equipment and firepower. And if there is one thing I don’t like, it’s being limited by my equipment.

“How’s she running, Ajax?” I ask, approaching the truck.

He climbs into the driver seat and twists the key. “Listen for yourself.” The engine coughs, struggles for air, and then settles into a steady purr. “Just like new,” he says, smiling.

New. Except it’s much older than he is. I return the gesture anyways, cracking my lips and showing a few teeth. “Well I’ll be damned,” I reply.

As I walk up to the pickup, Nathar jumps into the bed of the truck and extends his hands towards me. “Let me take those for you, sir,” he says, nodding towards my gear.

Do I really look that old? Sure, I’ve had a rough night, but surely I can handle my own equipment. I extend the fake smile. “I may be old enough to be your dad, but I can still carry my own weight,” I respond.

“And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Ajax laughs. He’s holding his chest armor in one hand and his assault rifle, equipped with double bayonets, in the other. A tribal tattoo follows the bulging veins on his right arm all the way to edge of his shirt. The man built a reputation by killing, securing his legacy amongst his fellow soldiers at a young age. If he was a Knight, he would surely be guaranteed a statue at the time of his death. As cliché as it sounds, the name he was given by his fellow squad mates—Ajax, after the warrior in Homer’s Iliad—is more fitting than any other name in the entire TDU.

“You aren’t going to say goodbye?” a soft voice from behind me asks.

I don’t need to turn around to see Juliana’s glowing face.

“It’s never a goodbye. Just a ‘see ya later,’” I respond, turning to see her at the edge of the open garage door. Behind her the wind is beginning to howl, particles of red earth swirling about.

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