Роберт Уилсон - Days Since... - Thomas - Day 758

Thomas chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“You’re okay though?”

“Of course. Just tired.”

“Clearly. Why don’t I take Joseph a while longer?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I think you earned some rest.”

“Thanks, Kate. Someday I’ll pay you back, you know?”

“You don’t need to do that, I enjoy watching the little man. Keeps me company and helps me out with things.”

Thomas waved Joseph over. He leapt from the stoop and rushed to Thomas, giving him a big hug. Thomas knelt down to speak with him. “Hey, I’m sorry big man, but you’ll have to stay with Kate just a little more.” Thomas lifted Joseph’s chin from his pouting. “It’ll only be a few hours. I need a little sleep and then you can come with me while I take care of stuff tonight.”

“Really?” Joseph’s face lit up. “Promise?”

“You know it.” He put his hand out, and Joseph gave him a five. “Ouch!”

“Finally!” Joseph threw his fists in the air and cheered. “I got you good!”

Thomas mouthed a thank you to Kate, and she led Joseph away by the small of his back. He watched for only a moment as Kate began introducing Joseph to some of the other Soldiers that stood nearby.

Without any coaxing, Thomas’s feet took over, dragging him to his apartment. Soon, the familiar bang of his metal gate welcomed him. He glided up the stairs, and as he stood before his apartment door, Thomas had never felt so relieved.

Across the street, a trash-ridden alley with prying eyes. A man carrying a thin, high-powered rifle across his back, had made the journey paralleling the parade of victors back home. His low mutterings, obsessive and dangerous, kept him going despite his lack of sleep. The horrors of the night before drove his desire. His people slaughtered and now the enemy’s home was here, right there in front of him to serve his anger.

The last straggler passed the threshold into the town, and the gate closed. He stole for the fire escape. Fistfuls of raw, cold iron grasped within his palms as he ascended—a pair of binoculars swinging from his neck. The perfect perch. Unseen and unheard, he would have the advantage. He glassed over the fortress, zooming in on collars, seeking the highest rank.

He might not have too long. One key figure and it would be a success. This wouldn’t be a sustained effort—one and done. A message sent with one round downrange. One for his people. One bit of exacted revenge. Content with his own death if need be.

Along the street, just beyond the city’s wall, but well within a rifle’s range, stood a man with a single gold bar on each lapel. He smoked a cigarette and casually spoke to people as they walked past. Only a few stopped for more than a couple words. This man would be the one to make it all better.

The rifle wavered with his frantic breathing, his wild eyes too troubled to focus. He wiped his brow and took several deep breaths to calm himself. One more quick survey of the crowd to ensure he had the one he wanted. When convinced he would find no better, he pictured the bodies, the fire, listened to the screams that would haunt him the rest of his life. He pressed the butt of the rifle further into his shoulder. It would waver no longer.

A shot rang out, echoing against the overpasses, pounding against the confined neighborhood. Screams of panic followed, the crowd fractured, their feet scrambling for cover. Guards and Sentries took to their posts. The surrounding rooflines were clear, not a threat in sight. The man that sat within the crosshairs flicked his cigarette to the ground before ducking into a breezeway.

Three quick whistle blows indicated the shot had been made by one of their own. Observant eyes along the top of the overpass—the highest point surrounding the fortress—had seen the attempt. A trained marksman had ended the threat, and now, the rifle teetered on the edge of the roof as its owner lay on his side, the scar forcing an unintentional smile.

“You excited to finally be here, Tommy? Or is this strange for ya?”

“It’s fine, Mr. Haverty.”

“River’s Edge look different since before?”

“Yes, sir. Quite a bit.”

“Call me Bill. The two of us are goin’ to be good pals here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cut the sir crap, alright? I get I’m in charge, but you’re my partner now. Gotta a lot of work to do ‘round here, ‘n’ I’m guessin’ you’re up for it.”

“Of course.”

“Good, Good, Good. Glad to hear it. I know it’s been a week or so since that whole Butcher thing, but you’ll get settled in ‘round here just fine.”

“I’ll certainly try.”

“Not try. You will. There ain’t no try anymore. Not as a Soldier.”

“I understand.”

“A lot of good comes from being a Soldier. Lot less movin’ around. Lot less stupid bullshit. You’ll get your share of more important things—more share of the spoils too.

“I appreciate that.”

“And while I have ya here, I need ya to take care of a few things for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason. Two things to start with, then there’ll be more. First, we gotta take a team ‘n’ nab up all their guns. We’ll be sendin’ ’em back to the capital or L.P.H. Fortress. Second, I’m needin’ ya to keep an eye on a few folks.”

“Who?”

“Some that’ve been heard sayin’ some things.”

“Who?”

“You’re fixin’ to find out.”

Thank you for reading Days Since… Thomas: Day 758 . I sincerely hope that you enjoyed the story and will invest future time in the series. Please be sure to read Book Two: Days Since… Xavier: Day 853.

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I enjoy post-apocalyptic and dystopian books and have since I was probably 12 years old. My English teacher read us a story called “The Girl Who Owned a City” by OT Nelson. The idea of a virus wiping out all the adults, well everyone above the age of 13 (if I’m remembering correctly), was extremely intriguing. At the time, I was spending a good majority of my younger days exploring the woods that wound their way through my neighborhood. (I wouldn’t be surprised if some of my forts were still nailed up in a few trees somewhere back there.) Building something from nothing has always had a place in my heart, and I’ve always kind of found that tucked into most books in the post-apocalyptic genre. I love my country—the good and the bad. All things come with both sides. I served 14 years in the Air National Guard and deployed to Iraq in 2010. I work full-time as a police officer for the City of Cincinnati. I believe in service before self. I believe in helping those who don’t have the means to help themselves.

Copyright © 2019 by Power Shift Publishing, LLC.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews—without written permission from the author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

I have used the city of Cincinnati as the location for this series. Please understand that this book is fiction and I have bent the settings of certain areas to fit in with what the story needs. The Cincinnati in this book is not completely accurate.