Read Online Day by Day Armageddon: Shattered Hourglass by J. L. Bourne - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. L. Bourne
Ads: Link
was not their first ride together.
“I want to make this quick, Doc,” Sam said into his headset.
“Me, too, I don’t like going overland these days anymore than you do.”
“We lost another bird last week. A friend of mine, Baham, was the pilot. Hope he’s okay.”
Knowing that he was very likely not okay, Doc said comfortingly, “He’s probably trying to get back home on foot.”
“Yeah, if you say so.” Sam wasn’t buying it. “I see those steel cages back there and I know what we’re after but I gotta tell you right now, Doc, I don’t like this shit. The first sign of trouble, you toss those cages out the door, and we are gone, got me?”
“Yeah, you won’t have to tell us. Hawse said the same thing. He doesn’t want any part of it either,” Doc said. “Besides, our job is to grab ’em and secure ’em. We don’t know where you’re taking them. Want to tell me?”
Sam looked over with a conspiratorial grin and said, “You’re gonna find out anyway when we get there. As a reward for delivering those radioactive pus sacks, I’ve secured you boys one night living in the lap of luxury. After we pick ’em up, we’re takin’ ’em to the carrier. The researchers want to poke and prod ’em. See what’s makin’ ’em run.”
Doc sat up in his seat. They could see the outline of Lake Pontchartrain now.
“Sam, I don’t think me or the boys will want to stay on that carrier with those things onboard. I don’t care how soft the beds are or how nice the air-conditioning is or how hot the showers might be.”
“No choice. We gotta stay and get fuel and maintenance on this bird so I don’t end up like Baham down there somewhere . . . okay, we’re getting close. You guys check your HAZMAT suits and put those hoods on, for fuck’s sake. Intel says it’s hot enough to melt your face off down there. Don’t get too close to the cars and trucks or anything metal. They’ll be throwin’ out the radiation. Who’s staying up here to work the winch and tend the cage?”
“Hammer volunteered.” Doc looked back at Hammer just in time to see him give a thumbs-up.
“Roger that. I’ll keep you steady when Hammer drops the hook. Our recon photos show a small group of them trapped on the causeway. We’ll be cruising over in a minute or two. Get ready.”
“Roger.” Doc began to unstrap and head back. Sam stopped him, grabbing his arm.
“Be safe and have a good ’un.”
“Have a good ’un,” Doc replied.
Doc scanned the team, checking all harnesses. “Billy, good to go. Hawse, tighten your shit.”
Hawse reached down and yanked his harness tight. Doc looked over to Hammer, no harness. He wasn’t going to the ground today.
“Hoods on!” Doc yelled. “Sam is taking us low. The dust won’t be breathable. You’ll end up one of those vets with cancer lawsuit commercials in thirty years when things get back to normal.”
“Ha ha fucking ha,” Hawse said as he slid his mask on.
Billy and Hammer followed suit.
“Radio check,” Doc ordered.
Everyone came back with a good check, their voices muffled by the HAZMAT hoods. The chopper was hovering high over Lake Ponchartrain and the causeway bridge that spanned the large Louisiana estuary. The helicopter jerked a little. Sam flew the aircraft with his knees while he put on his hood. The helicopter began its descent. The causeway grew larger below them as Sam carefully adjusted altitude, starting his hover. Looking out the door below, Doc could see that Sam had picked a good spot. There were three creatures on a hundred-meter section of the causeway, plugged on both sides by multi-car pileups. The helicopter hovered between the roadblocks. On either side of the wrecked cars were hundreds of excited creatures looking up at the hovering helicopter, attracted by the noise, hands reaching for the sky.
The creatures began to crawl over the cars to get to the section of causeway directly below the chopper. Streams of undead converged
“I want to make this quick, Doc,” Sam said into his headset.
“Me, too, I don’t like going overland these days anymore than you do.”
“We lost another bird last week. A friend of mine, Baham, was the pilot. Hope he’s okay.”
Knowing that he was very likely not okay, Doc said comfortingly, “He’s probably trying to get back home on foot.”
“Yeah, if you say so.” Sam wasn’t buying it. “I see those steel cages back there and I know what we’re after but I gotta tell you right now, Doc, I don’t like this shit. The first sign of trouble, you toss those cages out the door, and we are gone, got me?”
“Yeah, you won’t have to tell us. Hawse said the same thing. He doesn’t want any part of it either,” Doc said. “Besides, our job is to grab ’em and secure ’em. We don’t know where you’re taking them. Want to tell me?”
Sam looked over with a conspiratorial grin and said, “You’re gonna find out anyway when we get there. As a reward for delivering those radioactive pus sacks, I’ve secured you boys one night living in the lap of luxury. After we pick ’em up, we’re takin’ ’em to the carrier. The researchers want to poke and prod ’em. See what’s makin’ ’em run.”
Doc sat up in his seat. They could see the outline of Lake Pontchartrain now.
“Sam, I don’t think me or the boys will want to stay on that carrier with those things onboard. I don’t care how soft the beds are or how nice the air-conditioning is or how hot the showers might be.”
“No choice. We gotta stay and get fuel and maintenance on this bird so I don’t end up like Baham down there somewhere . . . okay, we’re getting close. You guys check your HAZMAT suits and put those hoods on, for fuck’s sake. Intel says it’s hot enough to melt your face off down there. Don’t get too close to the cars and trucks or anything metal. They’ll be throwin’ out the radiation. Who’s staying up here to work the winch and tend the cage?”
“Hammer volunteered.” Doc looked back at Hammer just in time to see him give a thumbs-up.
“Roger that. I’ll keep you steady when Hammer drops the hook. Our recon photos show a small group of them trapped on the causeway. We’ll be cruising over in a minute or two. Get ready.”
“Roger.” Doc began to unstrap and head back. Sam stopped him, grabbing his arm.
“Be safe and have a good ’un.”
“Have a good ’un,” Doc replied.
Doc scanned the team, checking all harnesses. “Billy, good to go. Hawse, tighten your shit.”
Hawse reached down and yanked his harness tight. Doc looked over to Hammer, no harness. He wasn’t going to the ground today.
“Hoods on!” Doc yelled. “Sam is taking us low. The dust won’t be breathable. You’ll end up one of those vets with cancer lawsuit commercials in thirty years when things get back to normal.”
“Ha ha fucking ha,” Hawse said as he slid his mask on.
Billy and Hammer followed suit.
“Radio check,” Doc ordered.
Everyone came back with a good check, their voices muffled by the HAZMAT hoods. The chopper was hovering high over Lake Ponchartrain and the causeway bridge that spanned the large Louisiana estuary. The helicopter jerked a little. Sam flew the aircraft with his knees while he put on his hood. The helicopter began its descent. The causeway grew larger below them as Sam carefully adjusted altitude, starting his hover. Looking out the door below, Doc could see that Sam had picked a good spot. There were three creatures on a hundred-meter section of the causeway, plugged on both sides by multi-car pileups. The helicopter hovered between the roadblocks. On either side of the wrecked cars were hundreds of excited creatures looking up at the hovering helicopter, attracted by the noise, hands reaching for the sky.
The creatures began to crawl over the cars to get to the section of causeway directly below the chopper. Streams of undead converged
Similar Books
