The Mayflower Project: Deconstruction Book Two (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller) by Rashad Freeman

Author:Rashad Freeman [Freeman, Rashad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-23T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

NO WAY OUT

I awoke the next morning ready to hit the road. I figured if I could find a car, Brent could rest and we might make Wyoming in the next day or so. We didn’t have much time to spare and I was afraid we were already too late.

I sat up on my cot and yawned. It was quiet and that was something I’d learned to not take for granted. All night I could hear the war raging outside. Shouts and cries of pain and anger, the music of the night born out of despair and hate. But quiet meant hope, it meant we might still have a chance.

I looked back at Cindy as she slept silently, wrapped under a tattered, green blanket. She was so peaceful in that moment. Dreams were sometimes an escape from the horrors that reality held, I envied her for that. When I slept my mind just replayed all the shit I’d been through the day before. There was no reprieve for me.

Leaning over, I gave Cindy a kiss then stood up. I glanced around the room for a moment then headed back toward the storage area where we’d first come in.

“Your friend is looking better,” Carl mumbled.

He was seated in the corner, his face obscured by the shadows. I didn’t reply immediately. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust and find him.

“What are you doing up?” I asked.

“Who could sleep with all this shit going on?”

“Fair point. You know of any place we might be able to find a car without getting killed?”

“A car? What would you need a car for?” Carl asked as he stood up and walked toward me.

“Gotta get going pretty soon,” I replied and took a few steps back.

Carl laughed. “It’s not safe out there, especially now.”

“What do you mean?”

Carl looked at me like I’d asked him the strangest question in the world. He wrinkled his nose then let out a loud grunt and dropped his head into his hands.

“Of course…of course you didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” I asked.

“You were sleeping, all of you were,” he paused and looked back toward Brent. “He needed more medicine. He was sick, very, very sick. Sandra said she’d go out, it was that or let your friend die. It seemed safe enough, it was quiet and I’m better with the shotgun.”

He paused and glanced toward the corner where a rifle was propped up against the wall. I followed his eyes and in my head tried to calculate the odds of me making it to it before he did.

“Besides,” he started again. “She knew what she was looking for. There’s a pharmacy across the street, it’s not far…it’s not far at all. I could’ve gone, but probably would’ve brought back the wrong thing you see.”

I leaned forward as he spoke. My palms had started to sweat and my throat was dry. Something about the way he said his words sent chills down my arms. His raspy voice croaked and I swallowed like a dry creek bed.

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