Read Online The Object: Book One (Object Series) by Winston Emerson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Winston Emerson
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station was going off air for the rest of the night. The screen went black, except for an "Emergency Broadcast" title.
"Well," Sherman said. "Didn't learn much, but at least we know we're trapped in the city."
Lillia stood and turned to him. "What do you think?"
"About what?"
"The object."
"You mean do I think we're gonna die?"
Lillia's eyes darted away for a moment. An image of Blake and Kate screaming flashed in her mind. "Yeah," she said.
Sherman sighed. "Honey, I honestly don't know what to think. If it does intend to kill us, I don't see what's the big hold-up. Tell you the truth, I'm more afraid of what our government might do."
Lillia nodded and sniffled.
~ ~ ~ ~
Roger Lansing merged onto I-65 South. In the passenger seat was a woman whose name he still did not know. She was crying. Together they had sat amongst the mangled wreckage of Stacie McKenzie's car, comforting the girl for hours as she slowly bled to death. Attempts to extract her had failed. The door was jammed shut and her legs were pinned between the seat and the dashboard. With blood rushing to her head, Stacie grew delirious. She began to state her name, date of birth, and social security number over and over. She said, "I'm okay, really. Just get me out. I'm late for work."
Near the end, she started rattling off her address. "My cat. He'll starve to death if I don't get back to him. His name is Sprinkles. Please take care of him."
The girl with him now was too upset to drive herself home. She lived in Lebanon Junction, about forty minutes south of Louisville . She worked as a radiologist at a doctor's office somewhere off Watterson Expressway. Roger offered to take her home, but first he would head over to Mt. Washington and swap out the catering van with his Maxima.
Surprisingly, the interstate was near empty. He expected to merge into standstill traffic--even this late at night--but instead found himself on an open roadway, six lanes completely void. He found himself not obeying the lines in the road, pressing the accelerator, pushing the van harder than he'd ever dared. Only on the girl's request did he slow down.
Good thing she did, too, because with the van's dim headlights he didn't see the enormous blockade in the road as they passed under Gene Snyder Freeway. He hit the brakes hard, boxes and carriers slamming against the metal wall behind him.
The interstate was completely blocked off by military trucks, bundles of razor wire, and even two tanks. At least thirty soldiers in gas masks knelt, as though on command, and pointed assault rifles at the van. Then a voice came on an intercom or a megaphone:
"Turn back now or we will open fire. The Louisville Metro Area is under quarantine. You cannot pass. Turn back now. If you do not follow this instruction you will be perceived as a threat. You have ten seconds to comply."
"Loud and clear," Roger said. He shifted into reverse and hit the accelerator hard enough to burn rubber.
"No," the girl said. She'd finally stopped crying and now shot her head around in a panic. "No, we have to get out. I have to get home. My kids, my husband."
Roger braked and spun the back of the van into the shoulder so he could turn around. When he came to a stop, the girl in the passenger seat opened the door and jumped out.
"Hey wait!"
But she slammed the door and took off running toward the barricade. He watched the soldiers raise their assault rifles, heard the warning blaring on the intercom. He thought about jumping out and going after her, but before he could make a decision the night lit up with gunfire.
Roger shifted into drive and sped away.
~ ~ ~ ~
When Ted regained consciousness, the pain in his neck and arms, coupled with the massive headache that stinky black hobo had given him, drove him to tears. He wanted to kill somebody. Make that girl watch him throw those children off the
"Well," Sherman said. "Didn't learn much, but at least we know we're trapped in the city."
Lillia stood and turned to him. "What do you think?"
"About what?"
"The object."
"You mean do I think we're gonna die?"
Lillia's eyes darted away for a moment. An image of Blake and Kate screaming flashed in her mind. "Yeah," she said.
Sherman sighed. "Honey, I honestly don't know what to think. If it does intend to kill us, I don't see what's the big hold-up. Tell you the truth, I'm more afraid of what our government might do."
Lillia nodded and sniffled.
~ ~ ~ ~
Roger Lansing merged onto I-65 South. In the passenger seat was a woman whose name he still did not know. She was crying. Together they had sat amongst the mangled wreckage of Stacie McKenzie's car, comforting the girl for hours as she slowly bled to death. Attempts to extract her had failed. The door was jammed shut and her legs were pinned between the seat and the dashboard. With blood rushing to her head, Stacie grew delirious. She began to state her name, date of birth, and social security number over and over. She said, "I'm okay, really. Just get me out. I'm late for work."
Near the end, she started rattling off her address. "My cat. He'll starve to death if I don't get back to him. His name is Sprinkles. Please take care of him."
The girl with him now was too upset to drive herself home. She lived in Lebanon Junction, about forty minutes south of Louisville . She worked as a radiologist at a doctor's office somewhere off Watterson Expressway. Roger offered to take her home, but first he would head over to Mt. Washington and swap out the catering van with his Maxima.
Surprisingly, the interstate was near empty. He expected to merge into standstill traffic--even this late at night--but instead found himself on an open roadway, six lanes completely void. He found himself not obeying the lines in the road, pressing the accelerator, pushing the van harder than he'd ever dared. Only on the girl's request did he slow down.
Good thing she did, too, because with the van's dim headlights he didn't see the enormous blockade in the road as they passed under Gene Snyder Freeway. He hit the brakes hard, boxes and carriers slamming against the metal wall behind him.
The interstate was completely blocked off by military trucks, bundles of razor wire, and even two tanks. At least thirty soldiers in gas masks knelt, as though on command, and pointed assault rifles at the van. Then a voice came on an intercom or a megaphone:
"Turn back now or we will open fire. The Louisville Metro Area is under quarantine. You cannot pass. Turn back now. If you do not follow this instruction you will be perceived as a threat. You have ten seconds to comply."
"Loud and clear," Roger said. He shifted into reverse and hit the accelerator hard enough to burn rubber.
"No," the girl said. She'd finally stopped crying and now shot her head around in a panic. "No, we have to get out. I have to get home. My kids, my husband."
Roger braked and spun the back of the van into the shoulder so he could turn around. When he came to a stop, the girl in the passenger seat opened the door and jumped out.
"Hey wait!"
But she slammed the door and took off running toward the barricade. He watched the soldiers raise their assault rifles, heard the warning blaring on the intercom. He thought about jumping out and going after her, but before he could make a decision the night lit up with gunfire.
Roger shifted into drive and sped away.
~ ~ ~ ~
When Ted regained consciousness, the pain in his neck and arms, coupled with the massive headache that stinky black hobo had given him, drove him to tears. He wanted to kill somebody. Make that girl watch him throw those children off the
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