Read Online Arisen, Book Six - The Horizon by Glynn James, Michael Stephen Fuchs - Free Book Online Page B

water hoses, and catapulted heavy machinery. Now, no one had the least idea whether he had gone down in that final rush – or, emerging victorious, had simply retired once more to some other hidden cabin deep below decks, never to reappear, perhaps until needed again.
    Both of these theories had proponents.
    But even if he had still been around, the crew would have voted him off their gigantic floating island in favor of Commander Drake. They followed him now without question.
    Drake wore this lightly. Because he knew all too well that they, never mind the rest of humanity, were not nearly out of this hailstorm of giant turds – not yet, and not by a long way. Now, when he spoke to his gathering of senior officers, he spoke levelly and simply, his voice resonant – though perhaps a bit deeper and more gravelly after shouting through much of a two-day battle.
    “The good news,” he said, “is that the ship’s been refloated, we’re under way – and quite a lot of us are still breathing air. The bad news, as some of you will have heard through scuttlebutt or your own channels, is that Fortress Britain is breached. While we’ve had our asses hanging out here on the edge of undead America, there’s been some kind of rapid infection in the southeast of England, via the Channel Tunnel."
    He paused and scanned the faces around the table. Directly to his right was CSM Handon, looking serene and steely as usual, his rebar-like forearms crossed and motionless before him. Down from him was Captain Abrams – former commander of the sunken destroyer, and now Drake’s acting 2IC… after him, the Kennedy ’s Air Boss… then Lieutenant Commander Cole, the CAG… and Master Gunnery Sergeant Fick, acting commander of the MARSOC team. Beside him was Marine Sergeant Brandon “Ice Cube” Coulson, who had commanded in Fick’s absence, after everyone senior to him fell… then LT Campbell from CIC… and finally the Brit, Captain Martin, who was serving as the ship’s Chief Engineer.
    This wasn’t the traditional line-up, nor even the traditional room, for a senior officer’s briefing. But some of those original officers were dead now, and others had gone missing. Many of their roles hadn’t been refilled – while other jobs, totally unexpected ones, had opened up. (Director of operations for an organic farm, anyone?) Operational requirements had radically redefined themselves over the last two years of post-civilization, and had carried on doing so right up until today.
    So everything was always ad hoc now. Drake pulled whomever he needed, to do whatever needed doing. Every job was mission critical, and naval tradition and protocol were secondary considerations at best. And if other officers on board were upset about being left out, well that was just too fucking bad. On the long list of things the survivors didn’t have the luxury of anymore, ego was at or near the top of the list.
    “Wait,” LT Campbell said, “Wasn’t the Channel Tunnel supposed to have been collapsed?”
    Captain Martin, who had been on the scene when it broke open, blinked heavily. “Collapsed,” he said, “turns out to be a bit of a fluid concept.”
    Drake waved this off. “However it happened, the fact is that the dead are in Britain, and things are going sideways on them. And now the outbreak is vectoring up through the country – and directly toward London.”
    The silence in the room took on a darker cast with this announcement. Almost as soon as the Kennedy had reached the one safe place left in the world… Britain had started going down beneath the same nightmare flood that had submerged the rest of the entire doomed planet.
    Drake continued, his voice quieter. “Accounts differ as to how bad things are. CentCom, after evidently being a little on the slow side to take the threat seriously, are now fighting along a wide front, trying to keep the outbreak contained." He paused, trying to keep judgment off his face. He hadn’t so far