Breaking the Beast by Steven Bird

Breaking the Beast by Steven Bird

Author:Steven Bird [Bird, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-07T22:00:00+00:00


Chapter Fifteen

After leaving the Old Stone Church, Tamara and I moved quickly through the darkness, heading west, wading across the Chickamauga Creek, and following a tree line that bordered several overgrown and weed-ridden agricultural fields before coming to I-75, the major north-south interstate highway that runs through the area.

Stopping just short of I-75, I asked her, “When’s the last time you received a dosage?”

Pausing, she said, “A few days, I guess.”

“Then, here,” I said as I removed the pack and opened it, retrieving the half dosage I’d saved for her. “This is half of a prescribed dose. That amount has been working for me so far. I don’t feel any symptoms or anything. If we don’t think it’s working out, we can up the dosage, but I think we need to try and make this last as long as we can.”

“I’m just thankful to God that we have it,” she said as she rolled up her sleeve, presenting me with her bicep.

With just enough moonlight available to see adequately enough to get the job done, I took the portable air injector and administered her dose. As she rolled her sleeve back down and squared herself away, I put everything back in its place and shuffled the pack around to my back.

Curious as to what had happened on her end after the retrieval of the Symbex pack went awry, I asked, “So, what took you so long—to get to the church, that is?”

“I had to tie up a few loose ends,” she replied vaguely.

“Loose ends?”

“Yeah. I… I had to say goodbye to some folks. And apologize.”

“Apologize?” I repeated, unsure of what she meant.

“Yeah. I returned the remaining horse and apologized to George for the loss of the other one, as well as the loss of his Symbex connection.”

Still confused, I tried to get her to elaborate, “What do you mean?”

“The OWA is canceling its support program in the area. They say it’s because it’s too dangerous to operate in an area with proven insurgent activity, but it’s really a tactical withdrawal to strangle the resistance’s support structure. They’re essentially punishing everyone and are going to allow them to die because some people in the area supported our efforts, either by looking the other way or providing direct support, such as how George allowed us to utilize horses at his rescue. He and everyone else will die without the OWA’s local viral-suppression support program.”

“Damn, I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, not knowing exactly what to say.

“Yeah,” she replied as she looked off in the distance, wiping a tear from her eye, attempting to conceal it from me. “The OWA intentionally allows these people to die, and we take the blame. It kills two birds with one stone: it dries up our support and rids the OWA of those not loyal to them, even if it costs large numbers of loyalist casualties. That’s not a concern of theirs, though. The unwashed masses are utterly disposable to them.

“And once the word spreads to the people



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