The Last Bastion (Book 2): The Last Bastion
Page 20
“Okay,” Manny agreed. “But call me if you need anything.”
“Right,” Michael said as Manny headed upstairs.
Michael looked around them again. “What a mess,” he sighed. “Assholes!” he gestured to the destruction the armed intruders had left in their wake. “Like we don’t have enough problems with the biters. Now these jerk-offs come and attack people just trying to survive,” he shook his head in disgusted disbelief.
“I know,” Josh agreed. “We needed this like we needed a hole in the head…or a hole in our front entrance,” he took a deep breath. “We’d better make this our first order of business,” he nodded toward the ruined entry barricade.
“Yeah,” Michael pulled his .45, ejected the magazine, inspected it, and then shoved it back inside his weapon. “Unbelievable,” he shook his head and sighed again heavily. “Un-fucking believable. Guess we’d better get these bodies out of here first.”
He looked around him at the several dead men near the tower entrance.
“Got to get the ones up stairs too,” Josh said. “Suppose that should be our first order of business.” He paused and then said somewhat sadly, “Weird…having to shoot people that is. Honestly never thought I’d find myself in that sort of situation.”
“Me either,” Michael shook his head sadly, and then patted Josh on the shoulder. “Not our choice. They attacked us. Just remember that.”
Suddenly Michael’s radio crackled, “Michael…come in Michael.”
Michael looked at Josh. “Andrew?” he frowned quizzically.
“Sounded like it,” Josh nodded.
“Go ahead,” Michael answered the call.
“There’s something up here you should see!” Andrew said.
“Copy that,” Michael frowned tiredly. “What’s your location?”
“Seventh floor,” Andrew replied.
Michael’s head sank, his shoulders slumping. “Goddamn stairs,” he huffed to himself. Then he spoke into the radio, “Be there in a minute.”
“Go ahead,” Josh nodded. “I’ll round up a crew to start getting these bodies out of here and begin on the entry repair. It could take us a while. Looks like they dragged half the stuff we had in place into the grass out front. At least they killed the biters. Too bad, it also looks like they picked up most of the weapons of their fallen comrades along the way out, though.”
Michael gave him the best smile he could muster at the moment. “Thanks,” he nodded. “I’ll be back down to help as soon as I find out what the boys want.”
“Probably want to know if it’s okay to come back down yet. I don’t know if anyone has told them what happened. They probably heard all the gunfire and figured we were all dead by this point.”
“True,” Michael considered. “Okay, see you in a few,” he said as he walked over to mount the six flights of stairs leading to the seventh floor.
Several minutes later, sweating, out of breath, his legs aching, Michael made it. He took a few seconds at the top of the stairs to collect himself, not wanting to appear in such a state before the youngsters. They already thought he was old enough.
Michael found the three boys grouped up around one of the south-facing windows jabbering excitedly at one another. He walked over to join them.
“What is it?” he asked, a little more gruffly than he meant to, largely because he was trying his best to hide the fact that he was still slightly oxygen deprived after his trip upstairs.
“Look!” Andrew pointed out the window.
Michael did as he was instructed, looking down and out over the trees and toward the river.
“What? Yes, it’s a beautiful view of the river. I don’t get it,” he shook his head.
“No, not the river,” Jack said. “Look over that way,” he guided Michael several feet over to another window that provided a better view of the southeast. “There…you see them?”
Michael frowned, squinting into the glare of the morning sun. He could see a sort of black mass moving through the streets at what he estimated was about a mile from the tower.
“Are those…”
“…biters,” Andrew finished Michael’s sentence for him. “They must be. Who else would be out in those numbers?”
“But there must be hundreds of them,” Michael shook his head, open mouthed.
“Maybe a thousand,” little Justin breathed. “And they’re headed this way.”
“Shit,” Michael’s shoulders sagged, not thinking about his foul language in front of the kids. “The sound of all the shooting must have drawn them.”
“So what do we do?” Andrew asked.
“Come on…come with me,” Michael hurriedly turned. “We’re going to need all hands on deck.”
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Thank you for reading! Please be on the lookout for book three in The Last Bastion series, due out in June of 2018.
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