The Day After Never_Legion_Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller_Book 8 by Russell Blake

Author:Russell Blake [Blake, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-13T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Seattle, Washington

Lucas trod along the street that fronted Art’s headquarters, his boots making a steady tattoo on the asphalt and his M4 slung over his shoulder. The assault on the warehouse had ended, and a column of smoke spiraled into the air from the site, which was now little more than a pile of rubble. Two sailboats had been deployed from the nearby marina, but by the time they made it to the waters off the wharf, most of the swimmers had succumbed to hypothermia in the cold, unforgiving tide. A few had been rescued, but none were part of the invasion force as far as Lucas’s men could tell, and they’d been locked up in a chain-link area that had served as a warehouse security cage in pre-collapse times, and were awaiting a medic’s attention.

Two guards waved a greeting to Lucas as he entered the headquarters, and he handed one of them his rifle and pistol.

“He in?” Lucas asked.

“Yep. Getting ready for the council meeting in a half hour.”

Lucas walked down the hall to Art’s office and knocked on the jamb. Art looked up and offered a smile. “Ah, the returning conqueror! Come on in. I’m just finishing up.”

“Not sure I’d frame it that way,” Lucas said as he entered and pulled up a seat. He sat down heavily. “Pretty much went as I was afraid it would.”

“I heard. Wiped them off the face of the earth. Good riddance. You may just make it as a military commander yet.”

“We wanted to capture some of the invasion force. We failed.”

“Your primary goal was to eradicate a treasonous group of murderers. So you succeeded. You’re just not willing to admit it.”

“Wasn’t a very fair fight.”

“The best ones aren’t supposed to be. Would you feel better if you’d lost a hundred men?”

“We lost two.”

Art sighed. “Which is never easy, as we both know. But it is what it is.” He sat back. “While you were off on your adventure, we’ve been trying to reach Salem to let them know we’re on our way soon. But they’ve gone dark. Nobody home.”

“Dark?”

“They have four radios, and none of the channels they monitor are answering. That’s all we know.”

“What do you think’s going on?”

Art’s expression darkened. “Nothing good.”

“Could it be a transmission problem? Sunspots or something?”

“Anything’s possible. We’ll certainly keep trying. But my instinct is that we should plan on moving out sooner than later. They’re hopelessly under-defended there with their skeleton crew. Most of their fighters are with us, and when word gets out Salem’s off the air, the guys are going to want to ride hard for home. A lot have families they left behind.”

“I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

“I figured. That’s why I called the council meeting. I’m going to break the news that we’re moving out tomorrow morning, so they’re on their own.”

“Going to seem abrupt.”

“They’re big boys. Time to ride without training wheels. We’ve got things to do. We can’t play cops for them forever.”

“I’ll be glad to hit the road.

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