The Day After Never - Blood Honor (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Russell Blake
would abandon his duty at the first sign of trouble, who would refuse to protect those he was chartered with guarding, who’d reject his sworn duty just in case his willful wife might have thought he’d overstated the growing danger.
That was never an option.
But she’d paid the price.
His mind wandered, replaying in agonizing slow motion the inexorable grind into chaos as civilization had broken down. The population had been woefully unprepared for the reality of a food chain with only three days of supply, dependent as they were on the state for protection, for gas, for clean water, and electricity. Their faith proved misplaced as the bodies piled up and food riots swept the nation, followed by total anarchy. He still remembered that last time he’d seen a television program – an anxious newscaster, beads of sweat on his face, assured viewers that all would be well and urged them not to panic, to remain inside as martial law was imposed, his promise that it would never come to the apocalyptic scenario spreading via social media a transparent lie.
The word never was burned into Lucas’s mind, its certitude so false, so patently wrong.
That had been only hours before the Web had shut down; whether by the government or vandals, it made no difference. He woke the following day to his empty home, his wife dead less than a week, the television dark, the power gone, gunfire reverberating in the near distance, his comfortable routine of job and mission and duty forever over now that the day after never had arrived.
Lucas sighed again, wondering why he was torturing himself with toxic memories. It had been an eternity since those days. Now he was just another survivor trying to make the best of a living hell. How or why it had unfolded was ultimately unimportant. That it had was all that mattered.
He opened his eyes and stared at the glow from the tangerine moon on the tall grass and then back at the fire, which had diminished by half. His eyes drifted back to the woman, his mind racing, wondering what her story was, where she had come from, where she was going, and why she had been in the middle of nowhere with four heavily armed militiamen, traversing a region well known to be as dangerous as a striped snake in even the best of circumstances.
Chapter 3
Lucas started awake with a whispered curse. He swept the area and his eyes settled on the nearby ring of stones – the fire was nothing but smoldering remnants, the fuel exhausted, coils of smoke twisting from the charred ash all that remained of the blaze.
He’d drifted off, tormented by his past, but something had broken through the haze of sleep. Tango snorted again from nearby, as clear a warning as Lucas needed, and he was already forcing himself to his feet when he heard an oath and the twang of the trip line he’d strung across the main approach.
He didn’t wait to see who the speaker was. Operating on automatic pilot, he moved quickly but quietly through the gap at the rear of the clearing, avoiding the trip wire there, and made his way toward the rock outcropping, where he’d have a decent view of the area from the cover of the stones.
Moments later he was at the top, staring down at three figures creeping through the grass toward Tango. The woman lay comatose on the sling blanket a few yards from the horse. Lucas considered his options – he could probably take all three, but if he missed one, they’d be firing toward Tango and the woman, and there was no way of guaranteeing kill shots in the gloom.
No, he’d have to try to circle around and flank them while they were making for the outcropping. He watched their movements for several seconds; they were goons, he concluded, no training to their approach, just slow steps into what could have been a trap.
That made them idiots.
No less dangerous, but a potential advantage for him.
He edged away from the gap and retraced his steps down the outcropping, and then hurried around the periphery of
That was never an option.
But she’d paid the price.
His mind wandered, replaying in agonizing slow motion the inexorable grind into chaos as civilization had broken down. The population had been woefully unprepared for the reality of a food chain with only three days of supply, dependent as they were on the state for protection, for gas, for clean water, and electricity. Their faith proved misplaced as the bodies piled up and food riots swept the nation, followed by total anarchy. He still remembered that last time he’d seen a television program – an anxious newscaster, beads of sweat on his face, assured viewers that all would be well and urged them not to panic, to remain inside as martial law was imposed, his promise that it would never come to the apocalyptic scenario spreading via social media a transparent lie.
The word never was burned into Lucas’s mind, its certitude so false, so patently wrong.
That had been only hours before the Web had shut down; whether by the government or vandals, it made no difference. He woke the following day to his empty home, his wife dead less than a week, the television dark, the power gone, gunfire reverberating in the near distance, his comfortable routine of job and mission and duty forever over now that the day after never had arrived.
Lucas sighed again, wondering why he was torturing himself with toxic memories. It had been an eternity since those days. Now he was just another survivor trying to make the best of a living hell. How or why it had unfolded was ultimately unimportant. That it had was all that mattered.
He opened his eyes and stared at the glow from the tangerine moon on the tall grass and then back at the fire, which had diminished by half. His eyes drifted back to the woman, his mind racing, wondering what her story was, where she had come from, where she was going, and why she had been in the middle of nowhere with four heavily armed militiamen, traversing a region well known to be as dangerous as a striped snake in even the best of circumstances.
Chapter 3
Lucas started awake with a whispered curse. He swept the area and his eyes settled on the nearby ring of stones – the fire was nothing but smoldering remnants, the fuel exhausted, coils of smoke twisting from the charred ash all that remained of the blaze.
He’d drifted off, tormented by his past, but something had broken through the haze of sleep. Tango snorted again from nearby, as clear a warning as Lucas needed, and he was already forcing himself to his feet when he heard an oath and the twang of the trip line he’d strung across the main approach.
He didn’t wait to see who the speaker was. Operating on automatic pilot, he moved quickly but quietly through the gap at the rear of the clearing, avoiding the trip wire there, and made his way toward the rock outcropping, where he’d have a decent view of the area from the cover of the stones.
Moments later he was at the top, staring down at three figures creeping through the grass toward Tango. The woman lay comatose on the sling blanket a few yards from the horse. Lucas considered his options – he could probably take all three, but if he missed one, they’d be firing toward Tango and the woman, and there was no way of guaranteeing kill shots in the gloom.
No, he’d have to try to circle around and flank them while they were making for the outcropping. He watched their movements for several seconds; they were goons, he concluded, no training to their approach, just slow steps into what could have been a trap.
That made them idiots.
No less dangerous, but a potential advantage for him.
He edged away from the gap and retraced his steps down the outcropping, and then hurried around the periphery of
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