Mad World (Book 3): Desperation by Provost Samaire

Author:Provost, Samaire [Provost, Samaire]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: zombies
Publisher: Black Raven Books
Published: 2013-10-04T04:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

We drove on into the evening, leaving the sun behind us as we traveled the lonely road. Dad did not stop again, except to gas up, we ate what we had and drank water from bottles and pushed on into the night. Sometime in the early evening, we passed from Ontario into Québec and the feel of the countryside became not only rural, but farmland. Since it was nighttime, the moonless night was inky black. Out here in the unsullied north the stars shone brighter than I’d seen them in a long time.

The one time he did stop for petrol, Jonathan and D stood watch with shotguns in hand as Dad pumped fuel into our large double tanks. We saw a few people inside the gas station and we nodded to each other, but that is as far as our interactions went. Gas stations were one of the last businesses to remain in most rural areas, the owners hanging on and persevering, and charging ridiculous prices for the precious fluid.

We passed through three more mid-sized towns on our way to the border crossing south of Montréal, which was more than eight hours away.

“DeAndre,” Dad said, breaking the silence of the last four hours. “What’s the latest Sanctuary intelligence on Montréal?”

“Well, it’s better than it was last year,” D said wryly.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Wasn’t Montréal nearly overrun two years ago?”

Jonathan turned to me. “Remember the slash and burn nobody wanted to do?”

I nodded my head uneasily. DeAndre continued.

“The PM argued with Parliament for months about it. She told them intelligence had reported back with a civilian population of several thousand still holed up in the office buildings and outlying homes.”

I looked at Zach, and he just raised his eyebrows in a ‘Don’t ask me’ look that, if it hadn’t been for my clenched stomach I would have found adorable.

Looking back to Jonathan, he just shook his head grimly and stared out the window at the fields we were passing by.

It was nearly midnight.

DeAndre yawned as he spoke, “Carolyn Deveraux was never very good at appealing to some of the more extreme and militant members of Parliament. They finally got enough votes on their side, especially with the American contingent at them at every chance ... They threw a blast cluster every hundred feet throughout the city proper, and flamed the rest. Took back the city two months ago.” He turned to Dad again. “Intelligence says the city still has a twenty percent saturation level, and that most civilians have fled, but that there might be stragglers who moved in after the clusters.”

Apparently, there was a lot of food stored in warehouses inside the Montréal city limits, and starvation was still a huge issue on the smaller, outlying farms in this part of Québec. Resources like that were an irresistible temptation to those who were at the end of their rope. Desperation drove people to extreme lengths.

“Well, maybe try and find a route around it, I don’t like those odds, not in our situation,” Dad fell silent, in deep thought.

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