Apocalypse Atlanta (Book 4): Apocalypse Asylum Read Online Free

get serious about using their hobbies to supply us.  They might use you as practice, but maybe they’ll want a smaller target.”
    She brushed his feeble insult aside.  “You’re kidding, right?”
    “No, seriously.  You know food can come from hunting and fishing, right?”
    “Hah fucking hah.”
    “Seriously.” Peter said sagely.
    “So the world’s ended and rednecks are going to save us?”
    “I think save is probably a strong word.”
    “Help us?”
    “More like it.” Peter nodded, lifting his soda for another sip.
    “Motherfuckers.” she sighed.  “I miss the city.”
    “The city’s overrun with hungry monsters.” Whitley pointed out.
    “Some days, I’m not so sure it wouldn’t be better than this .” Crawford retorted, gesturing vaguely around at the tent city, parked truck trailers, hastily assembled pavilion roofs shielding piles of supplies, and the people milling about near all of it.
    Peter started to lift his soda for another sip, but before he could get the can to his mouth he heard someone calling him.  “This is supposed to be my day off.” he muttered as he looked over his shoulder.
    Nailor was running toward the commons.  Peter’s first thought was whether he should consider being alarmed, but he checked it for a few seconds while he made a fast evaluation.  There wasn’t anything chasing the Guardsman, he hadn’t heard any shooting or sounds of destruction, and the man wasn’t even carrying his weapon.  The Marine decided to extend his hold on getting anxious long enough to hear whatever the soldier was coming to say.
    “Gunny.”
    “Private.” Peter replied.  “Problem?”
    “The radio.” Nailor said, a little breathless from the run.
    “It’s a box with knobs and dials.” Crawford observed.
    “Brilliant.” Whitley sighed.
    “Yup.” Crawford laughed.
    “What about the radio.” Peter asked, ignoring the two female soldiers to focus on the newly arrived Nailor.
    “Message.  You need to hear it.” the out of breath man responded.
    “What kind of message?”
    “They say they’re the federal government, broadcasting from a safe zone.”
    “What?” Whitley demanded.
    “For real.” Nailor confirmed.
    Peter stood up.  “Are they holding for someone to talk to them?  Where’s Ms. Sawyer?”
    “No, they’re out of range.”
    Crawford frowned at Nailor, who was recovering his wind by now.  “How can we hear them if they’re out of range?”
    “I don’t know, but they’re not responding to any of our replies.”
    “Guess my break’s over.” Peter said, rising with the soda still in hand; he could take it with him.  “Nailor, find Mendez and tell him I’ll want to see him in the comms room as soon as he can get there.  Crawford, look around for Ms. Sawyer and tell her the same thing, but be polite about it.”
    “Me?”
    “You.” Peter confirmed, giving her a heavy eye.  “She’s in charge, remember.  Be nice.”
    “No one trusts me.”
    “Whitley, you’re with me.” Peter said as the sergeant opened her mouth with a grin.  “Bust Crawford’s chops later.”
    “Fine.” she said, rising and falling into step with him as he headed for the school building.  “Think it’s for real?”
    “Don’t know what to think just yet.” Peter said as they walked.  He was moving briskly, but without the urgency of panic.  He was too old to run just because; that’s something else subordinates were good for.
    Also, it didn’t sound like his running over and through the school would help very much.  And everyone knew he was in charge of security and most things dangerous.  When he ran, people got worried.
    “What if it is?”
    “Should be interesting.”
    “Sure you haven’t been drinking?”
    “I’m stone sober.”
    Whitley shook her head.  “You’re incredibly mellow today.  I guess time off agrees with you.”
    “I’m entitled.”
    “Didn’t say you weren’t.”
    Peter frowned slightly.  “I told her I was fine,