Read Online Children Of Fiends - Part 2 A Nation By Another Name: An Of Sudden Origin Novella by C. Chase Harwood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. Chase Harwood
Tags: Science-Fiction
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the angles of their bovid legs. MacAfee ran to the observation deck, getting there as Hansel and Gretel were silently attempting to reach out. Finally Gretel said, “It…Hmm. They… They don’t know English. They don’t…They feel.”
Hansel said, “We can’t be certain, but we think that they are not going to kill us. Not right away.”
Dean pointed at the fence. “Did they do that?”
Gretel’s eyes cocked up and to the left. “Don’t think so. The feeling is of the people before us.”
“But they like it,” said Hansel.
“You like it, Hansel,” admonished Gretel. “You don’t know what they like.”
“I can feel it. They like it.”
Jamesbonds said, “You said, right away. That they won’t kill us right away. If not now, when?”
“It’s just a feeling,” said Gretel.
“Perfect,” said Kile. “That’s out fucking-
“Tone, Mister Kile,” said Sanders.
Kile held up his XM25 Punisher and tapped his helmet. “Between this and this I can drop those three fuckers jiminy quick.” The gun was a clever beast that fired an exploding projectile capable of taking out opponents hidden behind all manner of cover.
Dean smiled at Kile and put a gentle hand on the gun, lowering the weapon. He asked Gretel, “Is there anyway that you can tell them that we are only stopping for the water?”
She looked at Kile with distrust and continued to look at him while answering Dean. “I can try. I don’t know how to feel that thought. They know that Hansel and I are among you and that is what keeps them from being...violent.”
Hansel said, “There are more than three. There are many more, but maybe not more than twenty.”
CHAPTER SIX
Borderlands
Plimpton found himself spending nearly all of his waking time in the command car. After enduring a two-hour benediction, which he and the troops were required to hear before finally pulling out of the Dover station, he was already done with the vicar and his minions. He had heard almost nothing of the religious ceremony as he sweated out the notion that O’Connor might change his mind and arrest him after all. As they followed their quarry across the country, he rapidly abandoned his own car. The holy men went to bed too early, rose too early and spent countless hours in prayer meetings and Bible study – and they didn’t drink – frowned on drinking. Then overtly, they began implying that people who commit rape and murder are most definitely going to hell – unless said people made atonement. It was if the clergy had been informed of his misdeeds – but maybe he was just being sensitive. Either way, they were an insult to his intellect. The fools were hopelessly naive and downright medieval. Even as a child, Plimpton had scoffed at the notion of some vain and jealous old robe-wearing magician in the sky. Plimpton was a scientist, period. That he had so meekly acquiesced to the holy men’s presence was completely against his character and he cursed himself as they left the borders of The Shore. Moving to the command car had solved the issue and it wasn’t until they were passing through the wastelands of West Texas that he gave it any further consideration. Boredom was Plimpton’s enemy. Boredom set his mind to wandering. Constable O’Connor had been quite certain that Niles would die on this mission. Any number of possibilities were before him, yet the detective had said it with a conviction that could only be born of firsthand knowledge. Sudden paranoia grabbed a hold of him. He would be murdered. The only people who could be counted on for such a deed were in the room with him, the drone operators and Major Thompson, or maybe the engineers up front. He didn’t doubt his man Hanson. The trusted servant had been with him every time he had entertained himself with a young girl. Niles looked at the drone operators differently as they watched the video feed; the enemy train shown clearly on several monitors. Plimpton resolved to move back in
Hansel said, “We can’t be certain, but we think that they are not going to kill us. Not right away.”
Dean pointed at the fence. “Did they do that?”
Gretel’s eyes cocked up and to the left. “Don’t think so. The feeling is of the people before us.”
“But they like it,” said Hansel.
“You like it, Hansel,” admonished Gretel. “You don’t know what they like.”
“I can feel it. They like it.”
Jamesbonds said, “You said, right away. That they won’t kill us right away. If not now, when?”
“It’s just a feeling,” said Gretel.
“Perfect,” said Kile. “That’s out fucking-
“Tone, Mister Kile,” said Sanders.
Kile held up his XM25 Punisher and tapped his helmet. “Between this and this I can drop those three fuckers jiminy quick.” The gun was a clever beast that fired an exploding projectile capable of taking out opponents hidden behind all manner of cover.
Dean smiled at Kile and put a gentle hand on the gun, lowering the weapon. He asked Gretel, “Is there anyway that you can tell them that we are only stopping for the water?”
She looked at Kile with distrust and continued to look at him while answering Dean. “I can try. I don’t know how to feel that thought. They know that Hansel and I are among you and that is what keeps them from being...violent.”
Hansel said, “There are more than three. There are many more, but maybe not more than twenty.”
CHAPTER SIX
Borderlands
Plimpton found himself spending nearly all of his waking time in the command car. After enduring a two-hour benediction, which he and the troops were required to hear before finally pulling out of the Dover station, he was already done with the vicar and his minions. He had heard almost nothing of the religious ceremony as he sweated out the notion that O’Connor might change his mind and arrest him after all. As they followed their quarry across the country, he rapidly abandoned his own car. The holy men went to bed too early, rose too early and spent countless hours in prayer meetings and Bible study – and they didn’t drink – frowned on drinking. Then overtly, they began implying that people who commit rape and murder are most definitely going to hell – unless said people made atonement. It was if the clergy had been informed of his misdeeds – but maybe he was just being sensitive. Either way, they were an insult to his intellect. The fools were hopelessly naive and downright medieval. Even as a child, Plimpton had scoffed at the notion of some vain and jealous old robe-wearing magician in the sky. Plimpton was a scientist, period. That he had so meekly acquiesced to the holy men’s presence was completely against his character and he cursed himself as they left the borders of The Shore. Moving to the command car had solved the issue and it wasn’t until they were passing through the wastelands of West Texas that he gave it any further consideration. Boredom was Plimpton’s enemy. Boredom set his mind to wandering. Constable O’Connor had been quite certain that Niles would die on this mission. Any number of possibilities were before him, yet the detective had said it with a conviction that could only be born of firsthand knowledge. Sudden paranoia grabbed a hold of him. He would be murdered. The only people who could be counted on for such a deed were in the room with him, the drone operators and Major Thompson, or maybe the engineers up front. He didn’t doubt his man Hanson. The trusted servant had been with him every time he had entertained himself with a young girl. Niles looked at the drone operators differently as they watched the video feed; the enemy train shown clearly on several monitors. Plimpton resolved to move back in
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