The Last Storm by Jack Hunt

Author:Jack Hunt [Hunt, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Survival | Thriller
Publisher: Direct Response Publishing
Published: 2018-06-21T04:00:00+00:00

Kip pushed back against the men as they shoved him down the hallway, occasionally striking him in the back with the butt of their guns. “Keep moving, old man.”

They took him to where his store was and shoved him into the room. Inside there was a tall, slender man with stubble and hair swept back sitting behind his table with his feet up. He was chewing on an apple.

Kip’s legs buckled as he was forced to his knees.

“There’s no need for that. Get him up,” the stranger said.

Hauled to his feet, he groaned feeling a shot of pain go from his leg up his back. He wasn’t young anymore. Years gone by, he would have lashed out and taken a beating if need be, but that was when he was cocky and thought he could tackle anything that came his way. It was the same cockiness that had driven him into the Marines. Back then it was all about serving his country and protecting those he loved but his views had changed now that he was older, now that he’d seen the way the government had abandoned their veterans. Sure they had Veterans Day to honor those who had served but how did that help him pay his bills? How did that help him deal with the trauma of what he’d seen overseas? It was a joke. He loved the brotherhood and camaraderie but that was it.

“What do we have here?” the man said tossing his apple into a trash can across the room and swinging his legs off the table.

“Found him in the basement hiding behind storage lockers.”

“Huh. Anyone else?”

“Nope, just him.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He eyed Kip. “And who might you be?”

“The guy who fucked your mother,” Kip replied showing his disdain for him. He spat near the guy’s feet. There were a few things he wouldn’t put up with and answering to an asshole who killed innocents was one.

“Cute.”

The guy glanced at his shoulder tattoo. “Well lookie here, we have a Marine. A badass Marine.” He got real close to Kip. “I bet you’ve seen a lot of things in your time, haven’t you, old-timer?”

“If you mean assholes like you. Yeah.”

The guy smirked and walked over to the table and picked up a photo of his daughter, one sent to him years after her mother prevented him from having contact. It had been the only one he’d received, and it wasn’t her mother who sent it but his daughter. They’d planned to see one another in a few months for the first time. She’d written to him and they’d spoken once over the phone but that was it.

“Your daughter?” the man asked.

Kip said nothing. He walked over to the wall and glanced at a framed article that Doug had given to him on his sixtieth birthday as a way of thanking him for all his help. They’d had a local news crew come down and chat to him, take his photo, and featured it in the local paper. He’d relished that.

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