Hellfire Mighty: Complete Series by A.T. Avon

Author:A.T. Avon [Avon, A.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 45 – Westbrook

21 months after detonation

It took Westbrook ten minutes to catch up to the tail end of Hellfire Mighty. It was strung out along the road, and the first he knew of it was the loud sounding of the gong.

Coming around the final bend, Westbrook saw the cart with the gong being dragged by a decrepit donkey. He looked for any sign of Pete Masters, but didn’t see him.

He kept pushing forward, dropping his speed to less than five miles-per-hour as he weaved around other vehicles and rolled past Hellfire Mighty soldiers. It was a surreal vision. It was hard to believe that only twenty-something months ago, it had been life as normal here. He understood how it had come to this – multiple terror attacks combined with the need to respond to an international conflict in Asia – but even so… Now that the shit had truly hit the fan, it seemed to be snowballing.

The men and women of Hellfire Mighty were deep into a retreat, their bloodshot eyes focused on the ground. There was no hope in their gait, only misery.

Not so mighty, Westbrook thought. Survival looked to be the order of the day.

He kept his own inflamed eyes peeled for any sign of Wiley, but the man was not amongst the soldiers. Westbrook eventually found him at the front of the convoy, leading it from the comfort of a pickup. He was seated in the passenger seat of a black GMC Sierra. He looked perfectly relaxed as he rolled his head sideways to see who had pulled up beside him.

Westbrook took a certain satisfaction in the change of expression that followed, as Wiley’s face fell and his bung eye lagged his good one. There was a moment of abject terror before he recovered his composure. Westbrook gestured for him to stop driving and get out, but Wiley feigned incomprehension.

So be it.

Westbrook put his own pickup in a lower gear, fell back a little and steered into Wiley’s door. There was a screeching of metal on metal, as Westbrook’s pickup struck Wiley’s and began to force him off the road.

The screeching went on, everything happening in slow motion on account of the two pickups traveling at less than ten miles-per-hour.

Westbrook saw Wiley bark orders at his driver, and it wasn’t difficult to guess what these orders were. Wiley’s pickup truck was at too much of a disadvantage to force Westbrook back towards the other side of the road. Westbrook was gradually pushing him towards an embankment. There was a metal sign ahead, too, with the words “SPEED ZONE”.

Wiley either had to try and get clear of Westbrook before he hit the sign, or he had to stop. Westbrook guessed they would try and stop, the idea being to let him scrape past. That was fine with Westbrook. He would then stop too, blocking them. If they tried to drive around him, he’d be able to reverse and block them. He’d have them at a standstill, which was his aim.

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