No Shelter: Book 3 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Zero Hour - Book 3) by Justin Bell & Mike Kraus

Author:Justin Bell & Mike Kraus [Bell, Justin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2018-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

***

Javier put his head in his hand, sitting on the uncomfortable cot, even the small motion sending spurts of pain along his back where the buckshot wounds were raw and fresh. He winced and spasmed lightly as the pain flared.

“Are you all right?” Priscilla asked him, moving toward him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m good, Pris, thank you,” he replied. “Just worried about Mel.”

“That makes two of us,” she replied. “What was she thinking?”

“I don’t know if she had much of a choice,” Clark said from across the room, speaking as quietly as he could. “That Mayor dude… he gives me the serious creeps. Lights are on, but I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“He wasn’t always like that,” Lisa said from the other cell. “He seemed almost… normal. I’m wondering if what happened… I’m wondering if it broke him somehow.” She had been laying on her side, and pushed herself upright, her face indicating some deeper thought. “I think he was married. Pretty sure he had a child. Maybe even two. If something happened to them as a result of this, maybe he snapped?”

Clark nodded. “Possible. But you know, snapped or not, how people behave in the throes of crisis tells a lot about who they are. So far, I ain’t real impressed.”

Lisa nodded. “Believe me, I’m feeling you.”

A low scuffle outside the door brought Lisa’s head around and she glared at the entrance to the lobby as the door swung open. Mayor Harris stepped into the room, limping slightly, his left hand clasped tight around what looked to be a police issued nightstick. He looked at each person in each cell, meeting them all in the eyes, one by one, sizing them up and considering his options.

“One of you put her up to it, didn’t you?” he asked in a low voice. It was a sharp voice, a fragile thing, on the verge of shattering apart.

“Put her up to what?” Broderick asked.

“I didn’t have to do it,” the mayor continued. “I didn’t have to let her play, I could have just let her rot in that cell with you. But I was feeling nice. Generous, one might even say. I let her come out with me and play with some of the toys out of the kindness of my own heart.”

“What happened?” Javier asked, sensing something terrible, moving forward to grasp the prison bars with two hands. “What did you do?”

Harris sneered at him, taking an unsteady step forward, tapping one palm with the night stick. “What did I do?” he asked, aghast. “That little brat stabbed me in the foot and ran off. That’s the thanks I get!”

Priscilla bit her lip to hold back a chuckle.

Harris whirled on her. “Was that funny?” he asked, his voice high and on the verge of cracking. “Do you think this is a joke?”

“Nope,” she replied. “Definitely no joke.”

The mayor glared at her, as she shook her head, the scant drift of dark hair over her shoulder. She had round, slender cheeks, narrow shoulders, and she stood tall, her eyes blue and firm.

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