The White Warrior
Page 30
He looked up at her in fear. Who was this white apparition who came out of the snow storm and so efficiently destroyed them? The tall warrior looked gigantic from where he lay in the snow. He couldn’t tell how muscular the warrior was under the white parka and jumpsuit. He tried to prepare himself for death. He started to shake in anticipation. Then he heard a voice.
“Soldier, I’m not going to kill you. But I have a message for you to give to the sham of an emperor, Priest, and his consort, Bernhardt.”
The hollow voice sounded like it came from a distance. He did not know if the warrior was male, female or a robot. No face could be seen through the covering. He saw only his own reflection and the flickering of flames from fires inside the mansion behind him. He gulped and nodded in understanding.
“Tell them the White Warrior will not stop until the deaths of every single Book Liberator have been avenged. After that, I will come for them. Do you understand what I just told you?”
“Yes,” he managed to say.
“What is your name?”
“Private Ben Johansen.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from Chicago Province, a small suburb called Moline.”
“Know this Private Johansen. If you fail to convey the message to the emperor and his consort, I will know and come for you and for your family. Understand?”
He nodded in silent terror. His heart raced, and he voided his bowels. Darkness pressed in at the edges of his vision and finally, gratefully, he fell into sweet darkness.
Brogan stood over the young soldier for a moment. A flicker of compassion came over her. Without thinking about it, she picked him up and moved him into the mansion to keep him from freezing to death before someone discovered him. It wasn’t until later she realized the body armor increased her strength, making it easy to pick him up.
Once she was sure he was safe, she walked outside to the shed where Papa Marco kept his antique vehicles. She knew he had a lot of old motorcycles. He said he purposely replaced the tires on several of them to make them useable in heavy snow. If she remembered correctly, one was painted white to make it less visible in snow. She hoped the one she needed had some bio-fuel and a key in it.
The door of the auto shed opened as she approached. Papa Marco made sure every room on the estate responded to her and Allison’s DNA. She walked down the aisle, looking for the white cycle. If she remembered correctly, it should be at the back on the left. She finally located it. She looked the cycle over carefully.
Great, the key fob was in it and the fuel indicator said it was filled with fuel. She looked around and found a container which she filled with additional fuel from a tank nearby and put into one of the saddlebags. It would give her enough fuel to get to Austin City.
Her first job was to notify Janice parents of her heroic death. Then she would travel to Juan and the rebel forces in the Laredo area to continue the fight. She quickly squelched her feelings as she thought about the last time she was on a motorcycle: with Bryan.
She revved up the cycle and headed south. She knew the route by heart, since she and Bryan made it numerous times visiting various BL cells in Chicago Province. Even so, she gave verbal instructions to the augmented face plate to display the best route. She hoped to be far enough west and south to avoid any soldiers on their way to the Anton estate, responding to any calls for help. She knew exhaustion would hit her before long, but for now her adrenaline was high and she needed to get as far away as quickly as possible. She allowed herself a small smile as she realized the spur of the moment use of the White Warrior title Allison gave her. A hero, or in this case “heroine” figure, might be a morale booster for BL rebels. It didn’t hurt the Canadians gave her the weaponry and armor she needed; kind of added to the mystique.
The snow swirling around her, she kept the faceplate down to protect it from the sting and realized the night vision and surprisingly good navigation features to guide her were perfect as she sped toward Austin City. She never gave a second thought to the dozens of soldiers, dead in the snow behind her because she killed them. Like a ghost, the White Warrior disappeared into the blizzard.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marilyn L. Donnellan defines the modern Renaissance woman. An artist, writer, wife and mother, she also has a successful career as a nonprofit Chief Executive Officer, consultant, motivational speaker and trainer. She is the author of the science fiction series: The Book Liberators, and more than 60 books, guides, webinars and training modules on nonprofit management. Her fiction murder mystery, Give ‘til it Hurts, is based on her first-hand knowledge of domestic violence. Two Faces of Me is the story of her odyssey with Sophie Longhoofer, a character she often personifies in her motivational speaking. Donnellan has a BA degree in Human Resources Management and an MS degree in Administration.
Connect with Donnellan
mldonnellanauthor@gmail. com
www. mldonnellan.com
www.amazon.com/author/mldonnellan
http://facebook. com/mldonnellan
Other Books by Donnellan
Available at: www.amazon.com/author/mldonnellan
Give ‘til it Hurts, ©2016, a murder mystery
Nonprofit Management Simplified series, ©2017, CharityChannel Press
Two Faces of Me, Halo Publishing International, ©2015, an auto-biography
The Complete Guide to Church Management, © 2011, Xulon Publishing,
Nonprofit Toolkit series, © 2018