Last Refuge by Allen Kuzara

Author:Allen Kuzara
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, zombie, apocalyptic, alaska, scifi horror, sci fi action, scifi series, teen scifi, sci fi ebook, scifi dystopia

CHAPTER 17

RUNNING BACK DOWN the hillside, Nick yelled to Delta Three, “Assume defensive positions!”

He reached the bottom and turned to see multiple vehicles burst upon the crest of the hill. They were trucks, but they weren’t the mismatched Dodges, Fords, and Toyotas that Vaughn had commandeered. These were green and olive drab, clearly military vehicles.

Nick stood, gripping his rifle as more than a dozen men in camouflage uniforms spilled out of the trucks, each armed with rifles like his own.

“Delta Three, hold your fire unless fired upon,” he said. The last thing he wanted to do was poke a bully in the eye.

The camo soldiers all fell to the ground, making themselves small targets, and took aim at Nick and Delta.

Nick felt the flood of adrenaline pour through his veins, his legs and hands feeling numb. He wanted to run or hide. Maybe, he thought, he could command Delta to fight, and he could crawl behind one of the buildings and escape.

“Lay down your weapons,” came a voice from a loudspeaker on top of a truck’s cab.

Nick froze, not knowing what to do. They were outnumbered and probably didn’t have a chance of winning. But laying down their weapons seemed unthinkable.

Nick maintained his forward gaze but saw the opposing soldiers crawl left and right. They were being surrounded. No way out.

“I’m warning you,” came the voice. “Drop your weapons, or we will fire on you.”

If it’s a fight they want, it’s a fight they’ll get, Nick decided. “Delta take cover,” Nick commanded.

Quickly, he and the team scattered from their positions, each taking what might be their last refuge behind boxes, buildings, and machinery. It had been a gamble, one that could have ended with them losing their lives, but fortunately they weren’t fired upon.

“Delta, when I give the command, engage target.” Nick carefully tapped his command display, trying not to make sudden moves. Through his glasses he targeted the truck with the loudspeaker on it. “Target,” he whispered, and the truck blinked red—locked in, he figured.

“Down on your faces, maggots,” came the voice again. “You worthless excuses for soldiers better listen, or we’ll do far worse than fire on you. Drop your guns and get on the ground. Now!” The speaker crackled and squelched from oversaturation.

Nick thought the voice sounded like a cliché imitation of a drill sergeant at boot camp, and he knew something wasn’t right about this. The army wouldn’t just roll up and pull their guns out, would they? But then Nick realized he was mixing police procedures with military protocol. They weren’t the same thing.

The voice came back on. “Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Platoon, forward assau—” The speaker squelched loudly before he finished.

Nick, behind a crate that was probably insufficient to block any high-powered rounds, couldn’t see the trucks without sticking his head out from around the corner, something he didn’t want to do now. He listened and heard footsteps. They weren’t the sound of twenty men marching on his position but rather the sounds of a solitary soldier.

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