Read Online The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2) by Jordan Ervin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jordan Ervin
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shop had people either pouring into the store empty-handed or emerging into the hallways with armloads. To Eric’s left, two men fought over a hatchet that had been taken from a medieval décor store, struggling back and forth like idiots over a relic that wouldn’t get them very far at all on America’s dangerous roads. One of the men finally managed to rip it free and slash the other across the cheek with the thick blade before turning to run. He made it four steps before the wounded man drew a snub-nosed revolver from his ankle and blew a hole through the running man’s chest. The concussion sent everyone in eyesight ducking, though it scattered very few. It wasn’t the first time a gun blast had boomed through the halls, and Eric knew it wouldn’t be the last. The man who had pulled the trigger picked up the hatchet and ran off, glancing over his shoulder as he disappeared down a darkened hall. Eric forced himself to ignore and forget all emotion, moving forward as he searched for what he needed most.
He rounded a corner and carefully made his way toward an electronics storefront a few hundred feet away, happy to see that the gate was just now falling to twenty or so looters. Eric didn’t want to be present in the initial rush. He wanted to either find what he was looking for once the room cleared out or be there to greet the man who beat him to it and persuade him to hand the device over nicely. He approached the store carefully—shaking his head in bewilderment as a trio of youngsters emerged, holding the latest nVision gaming headsets and a pair of old RC cars. Eric nearly laughed at the teenagers, each boy clearly expecting the coming day to be full of free fun and laughter, but he stifled that laugh. He knew when those teenagers comprehended the full reality of what was really going on, they’d be among the more dangerous on the open road.
He slowed and glanced inside the glass storefront, watching as those inside scurried around without much attention for one another. Eric entered the store and moved toward the back quickly, making his way for the storage warehouse at the rear. Most of the thieves still lived in the past, only bothering to take that which was displayed in the shiny cases up front without thinking about the more useful items waiting in the back for drone delivery. Eric had been hoping no one else had thought to search the rear depot for the specific radio he needed. However, that hope vanished as he opened the rear door and glanced through the rows of steel shelves and boxes, watching silently as a fight broke out.
Cursing and the flat thumping of fists striking flesh filled the small storehouse. Eric clung to the shadows in the back of the large room as he made his way toward the group. Two grown men stood nervously as a third man struggled with one of two teenagers. The two fought back and forth over a small brown box that contained what they both desperately wanted.
What I need, Eric realized after catching a glimpse of the logo on the box.
The two teens—one a younger man that couldn’t have been much older than Judah and the other, a pretty brunette with raven black hair that looked the same age—fought back as bravely and stupidly as they could. The man who was trying to pry the box from the youth’s hands shouted and cursed at the boy. When the teen landed a bone-crunching punch on the larger man’s nose, the man cursed and abruptly drew a gun, stuck it in the boy’s face, and pulled the trigger. The teenage girl cried out in horror as the boy fell to the ground, a red cloud of mist blanketing the girl’s pretty face.
As soon as the boy hit the floor, Eric no longer pitied the three remaining men; he rarely pitied those he killed. He moved forward quietly as the man leveled the gun on the horrified girl and began to shout.
“I told him to give it up! If he’d listened then he’d still be—”
Eric seized the closest of the three men from behind—wrapping his gloved
He rounded a corner and carefully made his way toward an electronics storefront a few hundred feet away, happy to see that the gate was just now falling to twenty or so looters. Eric didn’t want to be present in the initial rush. He wanted to either find what he was looking for once the room cleared out or be there to greet the man who beat him to it and persuade him to hand the device over nicely. He approached the store carefully—shaking his head in bewilderment as a trio of youngsters emerged, holding the latest nVision gaming headsets and a pair of old RC cars. Eric nearly laughed at the teenagers, each boy clearly expecting the coming day to be full of free fun and laughter, but he stifled that laugh. He knew when those teenagers comprehended the full reality of what was really going on, they’d be among the more dangerous on the open road.
He slowed and glanced inside the glass storefront, watching as those inside scurried around without much attention for one another. Eric entered the store and moved toward the back quickly, making his way for the storage warehouse at the rear. Most of the thieves still lived in the past, only bothering to take that which was displayed in the shiny cases up front without thinking about the more useful items waiting in the back for drone delivery. Eric had been hoping no one else had thought to search the rear depot for the specific radio he needed. However, that hope vanished as he opened the rear door and glanced through the rows of steel shelves and boxes, watching silently as a fight broke out.
Cursing and the flat thumping of fists striking flesh filled the small storehouse. Eric clung to the shadows in the back of the large room as he made his way toward the group. Two grown men stood nervously as a third man struggled with one of two teenagers. The two fought back and forth over a small brown box that contained what they both desperately wanted.
What I need, Eric realized after catching a glimpse of the logo on the box.
The two teens—one a younger man that couldn’t have been much older than Judah and the other, a pretty brunette with raven black hair that looked the same age—fought back as bravely and stupidly as they could. The man who was trying to pry the box from the youth’s hands shouted and cursed at the boy. When the teen landed a bone-crunching punch on the larger man’s nose, the man cursed and abruptly drew a gun, stuck it in the boy’s face, and pulled the trigger. The teenage girl cried out in horror as the boy fell to the ground, a red cloud of mist blanketing the girl’s pretty face.
As soon as the boy hit the floor, Eric no longer pitied the three remaining men; he rarely pitied those he killed. He moved forward quietly as the man leveled the gun on the horrified girl and began to shout.
“I told him to give it up! If he’d listened then he’d still be—”
Eric seized the closest of the three men from behind—wrapping his gloved
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