Unbeaten: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series (Dawn of Deception Book 3) by A. R. Shaw

Author:A. R. Shaw [Shaw, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Apocalyptic Ventures, LLC
Published: 2019-04-26T16:00:00+00:00

35

Davis

No sooner had they left than Davis realized how much pain he was in, and the fact that he was still barefoot. The wounds to his heels were freshly open, cracked and bleeding. Without the adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream, the pain came on full force.

The boy marched in front of him and slightly to the right as Davis kept the gun pointed relatively in his vicinity. He didn’t expect him to pull anything…of course, that’s when you should be worried. Except that the pain was distracting as hell.

“Slow down,” Davis said. “I’ve gotta stop a second and grab my boots. You got anything in there to make a sling out of?”

Drone boy shook his head.

“Figures,” Davis said and then looked up quickly as the boy began to tear away the lower hem of the shirt he wore.

“Hey, I didn’t…” Davis began to say but then suddenly the young man held out the piece of fabric to him. “Thanks,” he said. He was about to holster his handgun when he realized that was probably what the drone boy was waiting for to make his move. Davis could barely move his left arm with the increasing swelling.

“Nee tu…”

“No…don’t try to talk. God…I know what I need to do. You stay right there and don’t even attempt to move. Got me?”

The young man put his hands up in the air and nodded.

Davis saw his boots lying near the log he’d sat upon earlier…before the chasing and the shooting and kidnapping. Oh, and the bleeding. Can’t forget about the bleeding. “Ask the universe and she shall deliver,” Davis said as he flipped the med kit over. He knew the kid had no idea what he was referring to. It didn’t matter to him. He sat down and looked at the kid for a long moment while he wiped off the blood on his shoulder and arm wounds with a balled-up, discarded shirt. Most of the bleeding had stopped. He opened the med kit. “Man, look what a difference a flood and a decade will make,” he said as he stared into the pristine first aid kit’s contents. “All those sanitary bandages.” He located a few of the supplies he needed and sat the rest beside him. After that he used antibacterial ointment and bandages to seal the wounds for now.

Shaking his head, Davis couldn’t believe drone boy even used his mouth to speak. These barbarians were relentless. And here he was, himself…one of them. He’d known of Hyde, fucking Hyde. Sick mother…that’s what they all called him behind his back. His penchant for medieval torture devices was legendary. The man never had a friend in his life. No one could sleep at night around him. He was too freaking sick. Davis never had the displeasure of meeting him up close in person but saw him speak a few years ago in Astoria during a mandatory get-together. Mandatory was the code word used for be there or be dead. Even so, the guy had a way of creeping you out in an auditorium full of people.

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