Degenerates (The BOHICA Chronicles Book 2) by C.J. Fawcett & Jonathan Brazee & Michael Anderle

Author:C.J. Fawcett & Jonathan Brazee & Michael Anderle [Fawcett, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2019-07-22T22:00:00+00:00

Everyone but Charles was awake before dawn and waited for it to be light enough to safely leave the vehicle. Not that light meant it was actually safe. They’d merely be able to more easily locate whatever denizen from hell intended to kill them.

“Can you die from not taking a piss for so long?” Roo asked. He’d tried to find a canteen or bottle or something to use, but there hadn’t been anything in the whole vehicle.

“Shut the fuck up,” Reen growled. She had her eyes closed and her head pressed against the cold metal of the vehicle’s side.

“Don’t break the princess’ concentration,” Lester said, although he sounded as uncomfortable as the other two.

“If you call me princess again, Brit, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Be my guest, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you.”

Charles woke and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked over his shoulder at the others. “What’s going on?”

“We all have to relieve ourselves,” Booker muttered. He glared at the American.

The large man shrugged. He’d slept through the night in the passenger seat. He was too tall to stretch out in the back like some of the others could, so he’d given up trying and had passed out. After he’d squinted carefully out the windshield, he retrieved his Remington from between his feet and shoved the door open.

The others gaped at him as he exited the vehicle. Reen lunged for the button that would open the hatch. Roo tried to move in front of her and she shoved him back. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

They tumbled out of the vehicle into the early dawn light.

Charles waited for them with coffee when they all returned.

“Where’d you get this from?” Reen asked and cradled the cup to her chest.

He shrugged. “Found it in one of the storage compartments.”

“Let’s get a move on. I’m sure we can’t be that far from the Russian gate. I’m ready to be out of the Zoo,” Booker said.

Mick climbed into the cupula and the Brit began driving.

Their guide saw several animals from his position, and they were attacked multiple times. The assaults were mostly by the larger, scalier animals that obviously thought they could defeat an opponent as large as the vehicle. The armor held and Booker was able to maintain his speed. After several hours of driving, they arrived at the Russian gate. The wall had been painted with a word in tall red letters, but none of them understood the Cyrillic alphabet and couldn’t tell what it said. They assumed it was a warning.

The top of the Russian wall bristled with heavy artillery.

“They aren’t fucking around,” Mick muttered.

The gate opened for them and they drove the vehicle through. On the other side of the wall, in the Russian Quarter, a large group had gathered. The team climbed out of the vehicle and stood in front of it.

“Who are you?” a man asked as he stepped forward. His accent was thick but his English was perfect and he had a large black beard and wore fatigues.

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