Hell's Encore by John L. Monk

Author:John L. Monk [Monk, John L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: John L. Monk

25

Not long after stealing the guns, Dylan made his daily visit to the upper level where the adults stayed and discovered his father was dead. He’d lasted longer than the sergeant, who’d shot himself a few days before.

It was now the middle of summer. There were only a few adults still living—all in the early stages of the Sickness—and he knew deep down that some critical threshold had passed. He didn’t feel like a grown-up, but the little kids depended on him, and he depended on himself.

Staring at his dad, shrunken and staring on his death cot, Dylan felt more anger than sadness. He’d always been closer to his mother. When not in D.C., his dad had been campaigning for someone, or visiting some country, or cutting a ribbon somewhere. When they were together, it always felt rushed and packed with too many things to do. Sporting events, usually, where his dad spent half his time on the phone and the rest asking about grades, friends, hobbies, and other father-and-son topics. Then re-election, then the Sickness, and now Dylan didn’t even have canned conversation anymore.

Aimee and some of the older kids helped carry his dad beyond the tarmac, where the army men had dug a huge ditch for the dead. The smell was simply awful, the flies a terrifying black cloud they had to shout over to be heard.

After sliding the senator down the earthy incline, they each took turns shoveling dirt over his blanket-wrapped body. When his dad was completely covered, they crowded around Dylan and hugged him, forcing him to cry not only for his father, but for all who’d lost loved ones.

“What do we do with the guns?” Aimee asked on the way back.

Grateful for something else to think about, Dylan said, “We don’t tell Aaron. He’s a freak.”

“So, you heard?” she said.

“Yeah.”

Word had it that Aaron was recovering from the Sickness.

“Now his friends are acting even more obnoxious,” she said.

“You think they know about the guns?”

Aimee shrugged. “Nobody told them, but … I think they figured it out somehow. Just a feeling.”

He nodded. “They can’t have them. Not ever. We need to protect ourselves. Carry some around. We’ll keep the rest hidden.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t we throw them in the river? Then nobody can have them.”

As tempting as that sounded, Dylan shook his head. “No. We may need them someday. To protect our stuff. Our food. Everything.”

“From who?

Dylan shrugged. “Anyone.”

“If someone comes, we could share. There’s more than enough.”

She wasn’t wrong. There were hundreds of boxes of FEMA bars spread across several shipping containers. But there were also a lot of mouths to feed, and it was their duty to protect the little kids. Hard to do that with the guns in the river.

Aimee protested the evils of guns and how violence never solved anything. She didn’t seem ready to change her mind, so he didn’t argue with her.

The next day, he gathered Aimee and about fifteen of the older survivors who’d never hung around with Aaron or his cronies.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.