Gabriel's Sacrifice (The Scrapman Trilogy Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

made his way across the shipping yard and to the rope he’d left suspended. Taking it in both hands, he began his climb to the factory’s roof. It took him longer to bury the girl than he’d anticipated. The muscles in his hands and arms were showing the common symptoms of fatigue. His trip to the top wasn’t quite as easy as times past. Throwing his leg over, he slid onto the roof and allowed himself a minute to recover before pulling the rope up again.
    He turned to begin his walk to the nest hatch when he’d found a woman standing before him. Brilliant beneath the moonlight, her eyes appeared to be glowing, her features reminiscent–the ghost of the girl he’d just buried. But her beauty and radiance alone did not hinder the fear he’d felt, standing at the end of her extended pistol.
    A hybrid was on his roof.
    A hybrid was on his roof … pointing a gun at him.
    Mohammad raised his hands, a common reaction when presented with a firearm, and tried to ease the tension with an awkward introduction. “My name is Mohammad,” he spoke slowly. “I mean you no harm.”
    She squinted at him, shaking her head.
    “Mohammad,” he repeated. “Friend.”
    The girl pointed to his belt; on it, tucked in its case, was his gun.
    “Oh,” he said. Moving slowly, Mohammad loosened his belt, slipped it free and let the weapon fall to his feet. He kicked it away and returned his hands to the air. “Friend,” he said again.
    But the girl still seemed unconvinced, keeping him trained with her weapon.
    “Food,” he realized. “You must be hungry.”
    She did not respond.
    “Follow me.” Keeping his hands raised, he walked past her and opened the hatch to his nest. Then, motioning for her to follow, he climbed inside.
    The distance from the hatch to the nest was covered by a seven-foot, vertical ladder. Once inside, Mohammad switched on his LED lantern, waiting for the girl to either enter or remain on the roof. Several seconds passed as he stared into the blackness of the open hatch, expecting to see her foot reach the first rung. But the ladder, Mohammed realized, was not necessary. She landed in front of him, leaving herself in a squatting position as she surveyed the nest.
    It was flat and relatively barren, save for some bags, rifles, handguns and ammunition. She spotted the weapons instantly, bringing her own into play again.
    Considering she must have spent the past couple weeks simply fighting for survival, it seemed she’d done exceptionally well for herself. She no longer wore the early attire she’d been delivered in. The female hybrid discarded those for a black tank top and khaki capris–even acquiring a pair of lace-less Converse shoes, not to mention the gun that was pointed at him.
    Should Mohammad survive the encounter, he’d remain genuinely impressed.
    Her hair was as black as the night sky, her skin a softened shade of red; and her clothes worn and saturated with the orange dust of oxygenated metal. Her eyes were intense and piercing–truly deadly in her stare, but not in her weapon. The pistol’s chamber, ajar near her wrist, indicated a very empty magazine within.
    “I should have known better,” Mohammad sighed, side-stepping until the hybrid stood between him and his ordnance. “There. You’re in control.” Mohammad lowered himself and opened a bag at his feet, inside he retrieved an aluminum can. “Food.” He peeled back the lid, its contents becoming instantly detectable by sense of smell, and held it out to her; he only wished she’d find it as delectable as he did.
    “I have lots,” Mohammad said. “A whole stockpile. Don’t be shy.”
    The gun wavered as she stepped forward, leaning toward the can. Mohammad pulled the lid free as she took it from him and hung her nose over its opening.
    Good , Mohammad thought. Very good.
    He bent slowly and pulled out his own can, sitting casually as he retrieved spoons for both him and his new guest. Stirring the can for a moment, he then took