The Third Wave: Eidolon by O'Brien John

Author:O'Brien, John [O'Brien, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror | Post-Apocalyptic
Published: 2017-05-18T04:00:00+00:00

Sergeant Reynolds—Part 2

After a couple of days, the catatonic people ceased their redundant activities and began collapsing to the ground. Their faces became gaunt, their skin sunburned. Reynolds attempted to pour water into their mouths, but damn near drowned the first ones he tried. The vacant look in their eyes never left, even as death was drawing near. There were many conversations about what to do, but no one could bring themselves to put them out of their misery. Reynolds wasn’t even sure they felt misery, their expressions betraying nothing.

The team continued looking through the camp for any clue as to what had happened, but it was not productive. That led them to believe that whatever occurred had happened in an instant—otherwise there would have been a note, a log entry, something. In the evenings prior to the sun setting, they contemplated the world and what they were going to do.

“What about just staying here?” Hanson suggested one morning. “I mean, we have plenty of water and food, at least for a long while. Why do we need to set out at all?”

“As much as I hate to say that I agree with anything Hanson says, I have to in this case,” Reynolds said. “I mean, look at it. If we move out, we’re going into an unknown. There’s more risk out there than there is here. The only reason for going would be to find a way back to the states. And, let’s face it, that’s just not going to happen in our present circumstance. As tough as you may be, O’Malley, you can’t pull five men across an ocean.

“Test me,” O’Malley interrupted.

Ignoring the comment, Reynolds continued. “We could find a large enough vessel, but what good would that do without power? We’ll have to find a sailboat or something. Who here knows how to sail? And, I’m not talking about a jaunt around the lake. I’m talking about a vast expanse whichever way we go. With currents and shit. Sure, we’ll have a compass, but no GPS or navigation system. We’d just as likely end up in South America or never see land again. That’s aside from running into some monster ass storm. No thank you!”

“We have to figure that most shorelines, especially those where we’d find said boat, will be heavily populated. Now, maybe we could find one anchored and swim out to it, but what then? We’d likely sink the fucker in the first five minutes,” Hanson quipped.

“So, what then? We sit around here in this fucking desert for the rest of our lives? The food won’t last forever. However, as vast and remarkable as my talents are, sailing isn’t one of them. But what the fuck else are we going to do? While we may not make it to the states, we’re going to have to find better accommodations at some point. Someplace with game, fishing, water, and no people. So, my suggestion is…” O’Malley began.

“Sergeant…I think I have someone on the radio,” Mendez breathlessly said, running into the ammo bunker entrance.

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