Duskbreaker: Inferno (Psalm of Gideon, #1) by L.D. Hardin

Author:L.D. Hardin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L. D. Hardin
Published: 2020-09-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Asche Zu Asche

Haste guided Becket and Edelmiro as they made their way to the lobby of the museum. As they reached the front, the survivors were filed the into an adjacent room near the main entrance. The party laid their packs down and slung their weapons to finish handing out medical supplies and rations. The most critical of the group received treatment first. Becket, gathering supplies from his pack looked up and saw Sebastian hunkered down near some debris. The Ex-Legionnaire made eye contact and waived Becket over. Cautiously he crept to Sebastian's position.

"Do you see something?"

With a silent nod, Sebastian pointed to a nearby rooftop near the museum. Along the spine of a roof was a Legionnaire whose path ran parallel to Great Russell Street. Focused, he scanned for others in the vicinity his eyes followed the figure and caught a glimpse of another Legionnaire moving past a third-story window.

"Yeah, I see them," He continued as he unslung his sub-machine gun and readied it.

"No worries, I'll reconnoiter the area. See what we're dealing with, I'm sure Gideon's going to want to know if it's going to rain today," he said.

With a waive, Sebastian sat down and lit a cigarette.

"Agreed, hurry back," he said. A snappy smile. "I will," he said, as he hurried off.

As he prowled along a line of rubble near the entrance, he used it to conceal his movements as he made his way to a line of houses on Bloomsbury Street. Cautious, he took care as he moved to flank the Legionaries, he entered the ruins of a nearby flat through a hole in the wall. Then gingerly darted across the remnants of the lower floor stopping at the vacant entrance way. A brick-red door laid on end next to the doorjamb.

Carefully he scanned the roadway moving when he was sure it was clear. As he proceeded, Becket headed south along Bloomsbury Street to the next intersection, bounding from cover to cover. Then, he crossed the intersection at Great Russel Street as fast as his feet could carry him, timing his movement to limit his chance of being spotted. As swift as he could until he reached Streatham Street at his left. Swift and agile, he ducked into the side street winding his way along the road and debris crossing Coptic Street and into a building neighboring the Legionaries. The red mason brick building was stained with a soft Arylide hue from decades of neglect and exposure to the harsh environment. Like so many structures across London, it was little more than a husk. Pages of numerous damaged books and fragments of broken furnishings lay scattered along the floor. Fragments of bookcases leaned on one another like dominoes. Heaps of books and various types of manuscripts decorated the first floor. Given the contents of the room, it gave every indication of a used bookstore. Down to the musty, leathery odor and stale vanilla sent of ancient pages.

Jagged shards of glass peppered the faded Brussels carpets covering the wood floor.

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