by Gavin Zanker
Samuel blinked, his smile fading slightly. ‘I believe she is fine. I don’t get much time to check in on her these days. Don’t worry though, there’ll be time for catching up later.’
‘Sounds like you have everything in hand then,’ Malcolm said, nodding slowly. ‘You’ve done well here, Samuel. I assume the army of the faithful are finally ready?’
‘They are,’ Samuel said. ‘Preparations are complete and soon we’ll mobilise. There’ll be no more Reinhold, no more Syndicate, no more unenlightened running amok. The whole city will be bathed in the searing light of righteousness, finally burning away the sin.’
‘You’ve achieved much,’ Malcolm said.
‘What we’ve achieved,’ Samuel corrected.
Malcolm nodded, noting the glint of fanaticism in Samuel’s eyes. ‘I’ll return to the Syndicate and await your message,’ he said.
‘There’ll be no need for a message,’ Samuel said. ‘When the Zenith Gate opens, everyone in the city will know. You just need to bear a few more days in that den of rats.
Malcolm rose from his chair. ‘As you say, it’ll be a relief to return from my time spent with the immoral.’
‘Oh, and father?’ Samuel continued. ‘I want to thank you. I wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with such an important task. You played a key part in this, and none of what is to come would’ve been possible without your help.’
‘I’m proud of you, son,’ Malcolm said, picking up his briefcase. ‘I will see you soon and we will celebrate our victory as a family once again.’
THE END
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Gavin Zanker is a science fiction author with a love of stories, especially the ones where the hero dies at the end. He spends his time drinking tea while waiting for the apocalypse in a quiet corner of England, where it rains a lot but not nearly enough. You can contact him and find news of his work at the links below.
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Zenith Rising Preview
A malevolent force looms on the horizon, threatening an end to humanity.
Armed with newfound knowledge, Aiden revives the search for his long-missing wife, but soon finds himself needing the help of both old enemies and new friends.
An awakened threat emerges, wresting control of the last city and enforcing a twisted vision of the future, leading to a rebellion of improbable allies. Faced with hidden agendas, explosive sabotage, and an expedition that disturbs a horrifying adversary, Aiden will need more than just cunning to survive. Will he have the strength to discover the truth that has evaded him for years, or will his single-mindedness lead the last of humanity to ruin?
Buy Zenith Rising, the third and final book in the Fielding Series, where suspense, betrayal, and intrigue collide in a climactic, action-packed work of post-apocalyptic science fiction.
DARKNESS HAD ALREADY fallen when Aiden left the antiquated radio station behind and wound his way between the crowded, multi-tiered lodgings of the Rust district. The metal sidings and snaking ducts enclosing the undulating paths were covered with the remains of posters, most long since ripped away leaving only scraps of yellowed paper. The electric street-lamps cast pools of light here and there, but struggled to pierce the fog that had descended on the canyon city.
Coming to a wall stencilled with graffiti, Aiden stopped as he recognised the icon of the Dawnists: simple lines depicting a sun rising over the horizon. Below, some words were scrawled in severe red capitals.
REPENT. THEY ARE COMING.
He hurried on, passing more of the same graffiti scattered in alcoves and behind ladders. He sensed someone watching him, but scanning the nooks and alleyways he saw no figures in the gloom. A shiver ran down his back, and he pulled the collar of his olive-coloured field jacket up around his neck. He emerged from the Rusts and stepped onto one of the oldest and most patched walkways that connected the north and south side of the canyon. It was known by the locals as the Cowards Gap, either because of the extreme vertigo it induced, or how popular it was with jumpers; with the only sound being the thudding of his boots on the damp, slippery metal, Aiden imagined it was probably both. The canyon floor, where the prison and city generators were housed, wasn’t visible through the thick cloud of fog settling below.
He reached the end of the walkway and stepped off into Oldtown: the open market district at the heart of the city where the Mayor’s residence was located. Usually busy, even at this time of night, now only inky shadows glided through the fog in the distance. Aiden instinctively rested his hand on the Glock 17 at his belt, his expensive but dependable firearm of choice. He jumped as a sheet of newspaper blew past, rustling against his ankle before cartwheeling away into an alley. He cursed himself for being so twitchy and strode along the edge of the market, careful to keep away from any light sources that might illuminate him against the darkness.
Once he passed the silent market and through another patchwork of walkways, he arrived at his destination: the Brentford Casino, a four-story building set back into the northern cliff-face of the canyon. Two armed bouncers stood in a brightly-lit alcove ready to turn away any trouble from the doors, while above them a neon tube sign flashed the establishment’s name, creating a halo of garish, blue light in the fog. The muted sound of a bass line drifted out from inside. It was one of the more popular spots in the city where people came to drink and gamble, but Aiden wasn’t here to indulge in either. This was the headquarters of the Syndicate, one of the most powerful organisations in the Rim. They were notorious for feuding with the other local powers, and he was banking on them hating the Dawnists as much as he did.
Across from the Brentford was a walkway that offered an unobstructed view of the opposite side of the canyon. Aiden stepped up, grasping the corroded, iron guard rail as he squinted through the fog at the south side of the city, at his reason for being in the city again: the Dawnist compound. He could feel the pull of the compound’s gravity, whispering like an inner voice that urges you to step off a cliff, just to taste oblivion. The place had been silent for years; even now there was no activity inside and no lights shining from the buildings that rose up behind the perimeter wall. The Dawnists had retreated back through the Zenith Gate and into their underground facility years ago. And yet, despite having no presence in the city, the compound gates were still guarded by armed, hard-faced men who refused entry to all.
If what Blanc had told Aiden before she died inside the Project Solace bunker was true, then his wife, Kate, was still alive and somewhere inside that place; somewhere past the ominous Zenith Gate built into the canyon wall. Despite staking out the compound for the better part of a week now, Aiden had been unable to find a way inside. And so, his desperation had led him here to the Syndicate headquarters. If Kate really was still alive then he would find her. Whatever it took, he would find her and bring her back home.
A window slammed shut behind him somewhere, tearing him from his thoughts. He twisted to see sack curtains jerking in one of the nearby residences. Lingering outside here wasn’t safe, but he doubted the bouncers would let him insi
de the casino, considering his chequered past with the Syndicate.
A drunk stumbled out of the Brentford then, tripping over his own feet and tumbling to the ground amid a string of slurred curses. The two bouncers shared a bored look before stepping down and carrying the almost-unconscious man away from the entrance. Aiden took the opportunity to slip past them unnoticed.
The interior of the casino was a stark contrast to the darkness and muting fog outside; blindingly lit and swarming with warm bodies, entering was like thumping your head against a wall of sound. The air was laden with the smell of cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke. Rows of slot machines sang and rattled, flashing their colourful lights as a young woman danced around a pole on stage in the middle of it all. Everyone in here was just looking for a good time, even if that meant numbing themselves for a while.
Aiden ignored the entertainment and found an empty stool at the bar as he adjusted to the assault on his senses. He clicked a token down on the counter and the barman switched it for a glass of something that almost looked like beer. Aiden grasped it, noticing a spot of blood on the side of his thumb. He must have been unconsciously picking at it with his nail.
‘You want a pasty?’ the bartender asked. ‘Chicken and mushroom. Only three tokens.’
Aiden shook his head and swivelled on the stool to study the casino. He noted the location of the exits, the card tables and lines of slot machines that could offer cover, as well as the routes of the patrolling Syndicate guards in their distinctive jet-black clothing. As the night wore on, people began drifting out of the casino, heading home to sleep off the night’s distractions. Aiden sat unmoving, just watching.
‘Hey pal, we’re closing up soon,’ the barman said as he wiped down the bar with a questionably stained rag.
Aiden put his untouched glass of beer back on the bar. ‘I’d like to see Julian Caldwell,’ he said, recalling the name of the Syndicate man who often spoke for the organisation in public.
‘Oh yeah? Well, I’d like to take Fiona over there home with me,’ the barman pointed at the half-naked dancer on stage, ‘but some things just ain’t on the cards are they, pal?’
Aiden glanced at the skinny girl with the angular hipbones collecting her plastic, neon-orange clothes from the floor. He returned his stare to the barman.
‘Do I need to turf you out?’ the barman asked with a sigh.
‘I’d like to see Julian Caldwell,’ Aiden repeated. ‘Is he here?’
‘Right, I’m getting security. There’s always one, isn’t there? Every bloody night,’ the barman muttered to himself as he walked down the bar and picked up a phone. ‘Hello? Yeah, I’ve got a stubborn one here. Mind giving me a hand? Right, yeah I know.’ The barman replaced the receiver and turned back around. ‘Now then—’
But he was talking to an empty seat.
Zenith Rising is now available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07N68XCYR
Bibliography
THE FIELDING SERIES
Forged in the Dawn, The Fielding Series #1
Solace Within, The Fielding Series #2
Zenith Rising, The Fielding Series #3
OTHER WORKS
A Funeral of Feuds
Copyright
SOLACE WITHIN
Copyright © 2017 Gavin Zanker
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
EPILOGUE
Newsletter
Reviews
About the Author
Preview
Bibliography
Copyright