Blood Runners: Box Set by George S. Mahaffey Jr. & Justin Sloan

Author:George S. Mahaffey Jr. & Justin Sloan [S. Mahaffey Jr., George]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Absolution Press
Published: 2018-02-04T22:00:00+00:00

59

Jessup and others cursed Marisol for blowing their cover and for leading them away from the vault which is what they’d come for. But they couldn’t stop her or Elias. They were too fast. Too far out ahead of everyone else. They were separated now from the boy and the girl and their destination, which was a few klicks off according to the digital map.

A few klicks and three dozen Serks (Jessup refused to call them “Thresh” or “Thresher”) stood between them and what they’d come for. Jessup waited for the Serks to charge and then paused to see them surrounding what looked like a portable toilet that had been tipped on its side. They were clawing at the fiberglass shell, fighting to get inside like otters trying to crack open clams.

Jessup had always believed in fate, in the power of higher beings looking over his shoulder and whether it was providence or foolishness he whistled to the others and signaled for them to charge the preoccupied monsters. And so they did.

Jessup zero-eyed the monsters as he led the others on a ragged run. Their guns roared as the closest Serk ranks buckled and soon Jessup and his comrades were knee deep in a whirlwind of close-quarters combat. Jessup watched figures running to and fro, heard screams and the hiss and dull thud of bullets harpooning flesh, as he and his brethren laid waste to anything that roamed before them.

Jessup was in the middle of it. Predatory look on his face. Gun ablaze, spitting a trail of fire. Bullets scorching the air. Smoke everywhere. Dense. Suffocating. Jessup squeezing off shot after shot, using both hands, buckling the Thresher.

He turned and Terry was beside him, grinning, handing a magazine of ammo to Jessup as they both reloaded.

“Shit! You planning on saving any of them for us, J.?!” asked Terry.

A grim smile tugged at Jessup’s mouth.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” he said, wheeling around and firing a series of expertly-placed shots.

In a matter of seconds they’d killed every last Serk, Bennie and Jon high-fiving, psyched by the kills, Terry clutching his chest, fighting for air, Jessup taking aim at the portable shitter, head-bobbing to Terry who used the barrel of his gun to unfasten an outer clasp on the toilet.

At that moment, Elias and Marisol were visible, approaching around the side of a building, Elias out ahead, shank in hand. Terry undid the clasp and a black blur sprang from the inside of the toilet, startling Jessup and knocking him back before he could get off a shot.

Elias tackled the thing that had sprung from the toilet and, without thinking, raised his shank over his head, intent on striking a deathblow when the thing before him turned to reveal a familiar face. Moses!

Jessup regained his footing and angled his gun around as Elias grabbed the still-warm barrel and shook his head.

“God … I k-know him,” Elias chattered. “His name’s Moses. He is … was … my trainer.”

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