The Long Goodbye: A Post-Apocalyptic Medical Thriller Series (Graham's Resolution Book 7) by A. R. Shaw

Author:A. R. Shaw [Shaw, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Apocalyptic Ventures, LLC
Published: 2021-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

35

Rick

Rick’s thigh jogged up and down several beats a second. “Where the hell is Graham?”

“I don’t know…look, here come Bang and Tehya. She must be okay. As soon as we can move Marcy, I think we should leave,” Dalton said.

Rick nodded, chewing on gum or tree sap. Whatever it was, he didn’t have too much time to think about it. Olivia had given it to him just to keep him from biting the insides of his cheeks. She either made the stuff somehow or found old tasteless gum and decided it was better to chew that stuff than nervously gumming his own insides.

“How’s Marcy?” Rick asked when Bang approached.

Tehya wandered into Dalton’s open arms, where she climbed up on his knee, and he wrapped one large arm around the girl.

Bang nodded. “It looks like she’s going to be okay. Mark’s getting sewn up at the moment. He just has a few lacerations.”

“He looked like a zombie walking in here,” Dalton said.

“Scalp wounds bleed a lot,” Bang said. “What’s the local news?”

Rick had the earphones wrapped around his neck so that he could hear the chatter without really listening in case something important came up. The last conversation he caught was two people discussing a local Chinese restaurant that was around there somewhere before the fall and how great their Orange Chicken was…as if there wasn’t a war going on, but at least the memories kept them going.

“Not a lot at the moment. They were talking about how someone lit up their fuel supply and blew up a few of their planes, and most think it was an accident of some kind but then again, others are wondering if they were hit from the inside.”

“We could only be so lucky,” Dalton said.

A faint chattering rose from the earpiece around his neck. They were no longer talking Chinese food but rather talking about something else. …on the move again.

Dalton gave him the eye, probably noticing his own reaction. “What? What is it?” Dalton said and Rick couldn’t get the receiver in position fast enough. Then, breaking into the conversion, a routine rudeness that they’d long ago accepted, he asked, “Airborne? Over…”

“Affirmative,” came the reply.

That was enough for them. “Headed where?” Dalton said.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not like we have radar tracking. Load up. We’ve got to get under cover as fast as we can.”

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