Pursuit of the Apocalypse Read Online Free Page A

hunter had seized an opportunity during the confusion of war and grabbed Erica in an attempt to turn the tides of his own fortune.
    Jerry kicked the truck’s console in frustration for the thousandth time. Chewy whimpered and moved into the backseat of the cab. Setting her massive head on her paws, she sighed and tried to sleep.
    Jerry looked at his watch. He swore, tore it from his wrist and threw it across the truck. It hadn’t been five minutes since he’d looked at it last.
    Chewy let out a single, low woof, and Jerry looked at the dog. He knew it was her way of trying to comfort him, and he did his best to let her.
    “There’s still a chance, girl. If they got caught in the storm, too—there’s still a chance.”
    The truth was there were a thousand things in the wasteland that could slow someone down. None of them were good. Travelers in the wasteland weren’t pulling off to the side of the road to read a plaque, stand at the intersection of state lines, or pose with a fiberglass dinosaur so they could snap a selfie and tag it #roaringgoodtime. Raiders, robbers, and rogues plagued the highway preying on anyone foolish enough to let their guard down or let their tank run dry. He prayed that he would catch up with them before they made it to Alasis, but he also had to pray that nothing else had stopped them. The horrible storm was his best chance.
    A bolt of lightning struck the Cadillac in front of him. The storm had thinned enough that the flash lit up the cab of the truck. Chewy whimpered and dug her head deeper into her paws as Jerry leaned forward and tried to peer up into the sky.
    “Is it finally letting up?”
    He stayed perched behind the wheel for another minute as the visibility outside the window increased. Black changed to dark brown. Dark brown to light.
    “It is letting up.” He turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. Tires spun on the glazed earth and the truck launched out from between the cars. The highway was close. He dug ruts into the dirt road getting to it. The tires found the asphalt and the truck got up to speed.
    He continued fighting doubts as he drove on. Was she still alive? Was she even still with her kidnapper?
    He shook these thoughts off. Erica would still be alive. He knew this. For all his annoying traits, Mr. Christopher appeared smarter than the average bounty hunter, and he would know better than anyone the risks of letting Jerry escape again.
    As the Librarian, he had a reputation. Jerry had never wanted one. He knew all too well that a reputation could get a man killed. All he ever wanted was to help people. But good deeds could earn you a bad name with the wrong people. The myth of the Librarian had grown too big and spread too far for those in power to let him live. Mr. Christopher would keep the woman alive as bait for his trap for as long as he could.
    Erica was too smart to run. Not while they were in the desert. She knew fleeing across the barren stretch would be the same as suicide. She would bide her time and wait until escape led to survival and not just a different, horrible fate.
    The light brown air turned to blue skies as he approached Bomb City and the storm faded away to nothing, revealing the defensive gates.
    The massive steel doors towered thirty feet above the road and shook the ground as they opened. Two guards looked over the vehicle and waved him through with the point of a rifle barrel into a small paddock where even more guards eyed him with scrutiny before letting him pass into the city.
    Amarillo had earned several nicknames throughout its history. It was called the Yellow Rose of Texas after its Spanish translation. It was once called the helium capital of the world when airships mattered. Later came the name Rotor City to honor the Osprey assembly plant. The only name that stuck after the fall of civilization, however, was Bomb City.
    As home to the only nuclear weapon assembly and disassembly plant in the nation, Amarillo was just as