Read Online The Rise of Macon: A Zombie Novel (Macon Saga Book 2) by Micah Gurley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Micah Gurley
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feeling his way around
things.
He quietly stretched, pulling his sore muscles and
preparing them for the day. Proper stretching could help avoid any number of
injuries he knew. He dropped quietly down to the cold brick floor, and in
fashion to make a marine blush, performed 75 pushups. He stood back up,
stretched again and pushed out another 75 pushups. He felt better, and warmer. His
blood warmed up, he washed his face and hands in the bowl of water he'd
prepared last night before he went to bed. No doubt his brother would use this
water, but that's what you got when you get up late.
The sun began to rise as Abe finished washing up, and he
saw James quietly get out of his bunk, also being careful not to wake Kyle up. Abe
watched the big man hit the floor, quiet as a ghost, and then do some stretches
of his own.
Abe nodded his head in appreciation; not many people
thought ahead like he did. The weak morning light began to filter its way
through the open window, and Abe sucked air in after getting a look at James
with no shirt on. He knew the guy was big, but James was cut like a chain. His
muscles seemed like they were sculpted by Michelangelohimself. But muscles
alone weren't what surprised Abe; James had scars, and a lot of them. More than
a dozen scars, long and wide, covered his arms and torso. Abe didn't have time
to see more, as James looked his way and gave a nod, his black eyes holding
him.
Abe nodded back and turned to make his bed. Once again,
being at the end of the world didn't mean you could be sloppy. He finished his
last fold, put his pack on his bunk, checked his rifle and latched his gun belt
around his waist. He then placed the sword that Eric had given him on his waist
and lashed the bottom of the sheath to his thigh. He felt like a warrior from
legend, ready to face the world, ready to save someone. But then he actually
thought about what was behind the walls and his enthusiasm died down. Everything
ready, he walked next to his brother’s sleeping form.
"I'll get him up in a few minutes," James said,
looking at Kyle. "He went to bed later than most."
"I'll go get some breakfast for us then," Abe
said. He wondered why the big man was so protective of his brother. He was also
surprised Kyle allowed James to act like that over him. Kyle was, in his own
right, a well-trained soldier. In the end, he felt better having James watch
over Kyle, because his brother could really get into some stupid situations.
***
Thirty minutes later Abe walked next to the ancient
Peterbilt tractor Old Ben had lovingly restored and kept in mint condition. The
truck, painted shiny black, easily stuck out, but who cared these days? Abe
would be going with Old Ben, Patrick, Bill and his son Johnson, and the college
kid, Jack. Six of them. Six of them would hit the small Costco, then connect
the old truck to an empty trailer. Of course, they needed to fill it first,
which was why most of the people were going to the store. The store was on the
edge of town, so they hoped to avoid large groups of the diseased.
Abe found his brother checking magazines. With a dwindling
amount or rounds, they'd each been given 7 magazines, with 28 rounds in each,
which was about 20 percent of their ammo. The people staying at the fort would
have the rest, but Kyle and James hoped to find more guns and ammo at the Coast
Guard station.
"You ready?" Kyle asked as Abe walked up.
"I was born ready son," said Abe in a tough voice.
Kyle laughed and pointed at Abe's magazine pouch.
"Did you check all of those and the action on your
rifle?" asked Kyle
"Yes, mom."
"Good, and I know you cleaned your rifle, so it
shouldn't jam, but just remember what to do if it does." He slid his
magazine pouch to the side and looked at his brother in a serious face.
"It's important to keep your rifle clean, much like everything else in
your life. You’re getting sloppy Abraham, step it up."
"Aye, you're a funny one, me lad," Abe said in a
bad Scottish
things.
He quietly stretched, pulling his sore muscles and
preparing them for the day. Proper stretching could help avoid any number of
injuries he knew. He dropped quietly down to the cold brick floor, and in
fashion to make a marine blush, performed 75 pushups. He stood back up,
stretched again and pushed out another 75 pushups. He felt better, and warmer. His
blood warmed up, he washed his face and hands in the bowl of water he'd
prepared last night before he went to bed. No doubt his brother would use this
water, but that's what you got when you get up late.
The sun began to rise as Abe finished washing up, and he
saw James quietly get out of his bunk, also being careful not to wake Kyle up. Abe
watched the big man hit the floor, quiet as a ghost, and then do some stretches
of his own.
Abe nodded his head in appreciation; not many people
thought ahead like he did. The weak morning light began to filter its way
through the open window, and Abe sucked air in after getting a look at James
with no shirt on. He knew the guy was big, but James was cut like a chain. His
muscles seemed like they were sculpted by Michelangelohimself. But muscles
alone weren't what surprised Abe; James had scars, and a lot of them. More than
a dozen scars, long and wide, covered his arms and torso. Abe didn't have time
to see more, as James looked his way and gave a nod, his black eyes holding
him.
Abe nodded back and turned to make his bed. Once again,
being at the end of the world didn't mean you could be sloppy. He finished his
last fold, put his pack on his bunk, checked his rifle and latched his gun belt
around his waist. He then placed the sword that Eric had given him on his waist
and lashed the bottom of the sheath to his thigh. He felt like a warrior from
legend, ready to face the world, ready to save someone. But then he actually
thought about what was behind the walls and his enthusiasm died down. Everything
ready, he walked next to his brother’s sleeping form.
"I'll get him up in a few minutes," James said,
looking at Kyle. "He went to bed later than most."
"I'll go get some breakfast for us then," Abe
said. He wondered why the big man was so protective of his brother. He was also
surprised Kyle allowed James to act like that over him. Kyle was, in his own
right, a well-trained soldier. In the end, he felt better having James watch
over Kyle, because his brother could really get into some stupid situations.
***
Thirty minutes later Abe walked next to the ancient
Peterbilt tractor Old Ben had lovingly restored and kept in mint condition. The
truck, painted shiny black, easily stuck out, but who cared these days? Abe
would be going with Old Ben, Patrick, Bill and his son Johnson, and the college
kid, Jack. Six of them. Six of them would hit the small Costco, then connect
the old truck to an empty trailer. Of course, they needed to fill it first,
which was why most of the people were going to the store. The store was on the
edge of town, so they hoped to avoid large groups of the diseased.
Abe found his brother checking magazines. With a dwindling
amount or rounds, they'd each been given 7 magazines, with 28 rounds in each,
which was about 20 percent of their ammo. The people staying at the fort would
have the rest, but Kyle and James hoped to find more guns and ammo at the Coast
Guard station.
"You ready?" Kyle asked as Abe walked up.
"I was born ready son," said Abe in a tough voice.
Kyle laughed and pointed at Abe's magazine pouch.
"Did you check all of those and the action on your
rifle?" asked Kyle
"Yes, mom."
"Good, and I know you cleaned your rifle, so it
shouldn't jam, but just remember what to do if it does." He slid his
magazine pouch to the side and looked at his brother in a serious face.
"It's important to keep your rifle clean, much like everything else in
your life. You’re getting sloppy Abraham, step it up."
"Aye, you're a funny one, me lad," Abe said in a
bad Scottish
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