Pursuit of the Apocalypse Read Online Free

again.
    The Librarian had been parked between them for more than twenty-four hours watching them pulse with the energy of the deadly strikes and hoping it would end soon so he could be on his way.
    The road through Texas wasn’t the quickest route to his destination, but it was the only option when travelling east. Long before the end of pretty much everything, people liked to joke how there was nothing in the American Midwest. They did it in jest with cruel assumptions and dismissive stereotypes. They joked about corn and often broke into the only lines of song they knew from Oklahoma . Then they would get to the chorus and realize they were talking about Oklahoma. At that point the laughter would turn into a discussion of whether or not Oklahoma was in fact a part of the Midwest or the South. That would usually turn into an argument, because that’s what people did when they didn’t know better.
    After the war, everyone knew better.
    Missiles aimed at other missiles had been the opening phase of the war and America’s heartland took the brunt of the first strike. The locations of thousands of silos buried beneath the elephant-eye-high corn had been programmed into war computers for decades, and once the launch codes were entered, America’s breadbasket quickly became America’s night-light.
    Venturing into the region now was one step short of suicide as one could now literally die from boredom.
    Knowing the dangers in cutting across the heart of the country, the Librarian made his way across the Texas panhandle faster than he probably should have.
    The truck’s engine didn’t protest the speed. The shocks and the rest of the suspension were more than willing to absorb the road beneath him. Off-road tires rolled over the smaller debris left in the road with little problem. But, he was heading full speed into a trap, and he knew it.
    For the last three days his instincts had told him to slow down, and for the last three days he told his instincts to go to hell. There wasn’t time for caution. Time was everything. He had begun a day behind.
    The truck had needed repairs. And, while they were made as a gift by a grateful kingdom back in the mountains, generosity and haste rarely went hand in hand. The repairs had cost him a full day.
    He had torn through what used to be New Mexico in short order, but was stopped by the storm outside of Amarillo. Sand, rock, and God knows what else blew around him reducing visibility to nothing, and he was forced to find shelter in the middle of the desert wherever he could. He spent a full day parked between the two Cadillacs. Their steel bodies had taken the brunt of heat and wind for decades and did all they could to protect the Librarian from the post-apocalyptic weather now. Jerry spent the hours watching the electric blasts dance down the fins and into the sand as nature funneled its wrath through the cars and turned the earth around him to glass.
    Every minute he wasn’t moving was torture. He didn’t fear the storm. As long as he stayed in place he would be safe. Stepping outside would result in the skin being stripped from his body in a matter of moments—if the lightning didn’t get him first. But the interruption in his pursuit made him restless. It was impossible to sit still.
    The full length of the truck was at his disposal. It had an extended cab and covered bed that he could access through the window. But, sharing the space with a mastiff that didn’t like thunderstorms made it less than tolerable and more than a little rank.
    Still, more than the smell, it was the lack of momentum that frustrated him the most. Every minute lost was a minute Erica and her abductor gained ground.
    He knew little about his prey. The mysterious Mr. Christopher had plagued them for months, but always from behind the shadow of hired guns. The man in the stupid white suit sought the bounty on the Librarian’s head and had, so far, been denied his prize at every opportunity. The bounty