by Hunt, Jack
As Our World Burns
Cyber Apocalypse Series Book 3
Jack Hunt
Direct Response Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by Jack Hunt
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
As Our World Burns: Cyber Apocalypse Series Book 3 is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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The Cyber Apocalypse series
As Our World Ends
As Our World Falls
As Our World Burns
The Agora Virus series
Phobia
Anxiety
Strain
The War Buds series
War Buds 1
War Buds 2
War Buds 3
Camp Zero series
State of Panic
State of Shock
State of Decay
Renegades series
The Renegades
The Renegades Book 2: Aftermath
The Renegades Book 3: Fortress
The Renegades Book 4: Colony
The Renegades Book 5: United
The Wild Ones Duology
The Wild Ones Book 1
The Wild Ones Book 2
The EMP Survival series
Days of Panic
Days of Chaos
Days of Danger
Days of Terror
Against All Odds Duology
As We Fall
As We Break
The Amygdala Syndrome Duology
Unstable
Unhinged
Survival Rules series
Rules of Survival
Rules of Conflict
Rules of Darkness
Rules of Engagement
Lone Survivor series
All That Remains
All That Survives
All That Escapes
All That Rises
Mavericks series
Mavericks: Hunters Moon
Time Agents series
Killing Time
Single Novels
Blackout
Defiant
Darkest Hour
Final Impact
The Year Without Summer
The Last Storm
The Last Magician
The Lookout
Class of 1989
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
A Plea
Readers Team
About the Author
Prologue
Mendocino National Forest, California
Five weeks after collapse
Justice would be served, its payment in blood.
A salmon dawn touched the tops of the coniferous trees in the heart of California’s Mendocino National Forest. The once-thriving parcel of land that spanned over 900,000 acres was eerily quiet that morning. Long gone were the lakeside tents, bleary-eyed campers, bikers on trails or kayaks gliding through pristine water.
It was quiet but not everything was peaceful.
That morning, Liam led a camouflage group armed with AR-15s into the rugged and remote woodland with one objective: to find a meth lab operating out of a battered RV, more specifically to locate Tate. For over four weeks Liam had searched the town and surrounding area, hoping, praying to God he’d find him. While it would have been easy to conclude he’d left the county after his betrayal which led to the death of Travis — Joe figured he knew him well enough to know that fleeing would be the last thing he would do. His allegiance to Jethro Nash, a local meth dealer, went far deeper than his personal debt. According to Joe, Tate had acquired a nasty methamphetamine habit. Apparently it was the reason why he’d thrown Travis under the bus, that and fear of reprisal. Tate always was and would be a follower, a shadow, a habitual screwup. It was too bad that Travis didn’t realize it in time.
However, Joe did.
The only reason Liam kept him alive was because he believed his story, and history had proven that he was loyal. Joe demonstrated that again by going out on a limb and making contact with one of Jethro’s crew who had made the mistake of showing his face in town.
Liam had observed the whole thing play out from behind high-powered binoculars and listened to the conversation between the two of them over a small surveillance radio.
Joe gave the guy some spiel about wanting to help, but it was his past association with Tate that sealed his fate.
As they crept through the brush, trudged across steep hills and crossed over ridges, searching for signs of the lab with only general directions, they eventually came across footprints, broken branches, and garbage. It might have been signs of hunters, folks out searching for elk, but locals to the rugged hills of Mendocino knew better. The national forest had a history of drug cultivators back when marijuana was illegal.
It was only when they found several booby traps that they knew they were getting close. Hours into the sweat-filled, steep hike, Liam gained a new appreciation for the lengths criminals would go to cover their tracks. With all that had happened, it seemed strange that they would continue to operate in obscurity, as it wasn’t like the police would come knocking on their door. But then again, staying low, keeping business and personal life separate was the key to protecting any criminal activity.
It wasn’t long before they came across a deer trail through thick brush that led out onto a worn footpath and continued into a grove of towering Douglas fir trees. There they found a makeshift outhouse before the trail sloped down into a ravine where a rusty RV was barely visible between ponderosa pines, white firs, and Pacific madrones.
They crouched and waited, observing and trying to determine the threat level. Five, maybe ten minutes passed before seeing any sign of life.
A door cracked open and someone in lab safety equipment — a bright yellow hazmat suit, blue latex gloves, and a gas mask — stumbled out followed by another identical in appearance. One of them ripped off his mask to reveal a gaunt face and long
matted hair while the other closed the door behind them. Nearby were two green hammocks strung between the trees with camouflage tarps covering them. Not far from that was a fire pit and boxes of groceries.
“That next batch should do the job,” he heard one of them say.
Liam’s heart sped up as he waited for the second figure to pull off the mask.
Sure enough, when he saw that long shaggy blond hair he didn’t need the guy to turn around, he knew who it was.
Tate.
Either side of Liam were Thomas, Joe, Elisha, and Leo. He’d wanted to go it alone but Joe had let it slip out over dinner and he soon found himself defending his reasons, and promising everyone that he wouldn’t go. It was a promise he couldn’t keep. He owed it to Travis, to Harry, and even Andre. They must have known he would change his mind, as in the early hours of the morning as he was preparing to leave, Joe showed up with the other three. Their concern was they could be walking into a trap, and was it worth it? Maybe not to them but to him, yeah.
Using hand signals he motioned for Leo and Elisha to go left while Joe and Thomas went right. He would slip down the middle.
Shouldering his rifle, he moved forward at a crouch. The crack of branches beneath his feet caused Tate to turn. Before either of them could reach for a rifle leaning up against the RV, Leo and Thomas rushed forward.
“Don’t even think about it,” Liam said.
Startled, Tate put out his hands. He immediately began spilling lies. “Listen, Liam, I know what you’re thinking but it’s not true. Whatever Joe said, it’s a lie. It wasn’t me who gave Travis up; it was him.”
Thomas entered the RV to make sure there was no one else. He came out and shook his head, cradling his rifle.
Liam’s gaze bounced over to Joe for confirmation.
“Bullshit,” he replied. Joe looked nervous.
Tate continued, “I swear. The only thing I’m guilty of is leading those gangbangers up to your grandfather’s cabin. I had no choice. They would have killed me.”
“So why didn’t you stick around?” Liam asked, stopping ten feet from him.
His mouth widened. “Because I thought you’d kill me.”
Liam nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Exactly,” Tate replied, a smile forming.
“Except that doesn’t explain this.” He gestured to the RV.
Tate swallowed hard. “I… uh…”
“If you were innocent, why work for the same man responsible for killing Harry, huh? The same man who hung Travis in his home?”
Tate’s eyes darted to Joe. “Joe. Please. Tell him.”
“Tell him what? That you screwed over Travis for a few bags of meth?”
“No. No. That’s not the truth.”
The guy standing beside Travis raised a finger. “You think I can go?”
“Shut up.”
“But—”
“You heard me,” Liam added as he walked close to the gaunt fellow, looking him up and down. “What’s your name?”
“Barry,” he muttered.
“Well Barry. How about you? Is he telling the truth?”
It wasn’t a question of whether he was lying. Liam knew Tate was but he wanted to toy with him, give him the impression that he was giving him a chance just so he could pull the rug out from under him.
“Oh c’mon, Liam.”
“Shut up!” Liam said, throwing a scowl at Tate before his eyes bounced to his pal. “Well, Barry?”
The man shrugged and shot Tate a sideways look.
“Maybe I’m phrasing this the wrong way. Does your buddy here have a meth problem?”
Usually it was easy to tell meth users, as they looked twice their age; they could have bruises, black eyes, and faces marked with scars from months of abuse. Then who could mistake the expression of having few or no teeth, though that usually came from long-term use. Tate wasn’t that far along so it was hard to tell. Perhaps that’s why Travis had overlooked it.
His question got no response from the guy so Liam lifted the barrel of his rifle to the man’s face. “It’s not a trick question, Barry. Does he or does he not use?”
“Liam, please,” Tate said, but he ignored him.
“So?”
Barry replied, “He does.”
Liam smiled and snorted a little. “Thank you.”
Again, Tate tried desperately to plead his case. “I only had it a few times. I’m not an addict. I know what you’re thinking but I wouldn’t do that to Travis.”
“And yet you did. But for what? How many baggies? Huh?” Liam asked.
“Can I go?” Barry asked, his eyes roaming over them all. “I mean, I don’t have anything to do with this.”
“Sure. Yeah,” Liam nodded. “Not a problem.”
Nervously Barry turned away, his eyes darting between everyone. He made it to the edge of the clearing when Liam turned and fired two rounds into his back. Liam caught the look of shock on Elisha’s face but he was beyond explaining his actions. He couldn’t let him walk. The guy would have gone straight to Jethro.
Tate had this deer in the headlights look, all the color in his face drained out. Leo kept scanning the surrounding tree line for trouble just in case there were more meth labs nearby.
“Please, Liam. I don’t want to die.”
“I imagine Travis said the same thing.” He tossed his rifle to Thomas, took off his backpack, and pulled out twenty feet of rope. Without missing a beat he withdrew his Glock 22 and aimed at Tate. “Let’s go. Just you and me.”
His eyes widened. “Joe.”
“Don’t look at him. He’s not helping you.”
His gaze switched to Elisha. “Elisha. Please.” Her chin dropped. When Tate didn’t move fast enough Liam stepped forward and gave him a shove. He stumbled forward, almost tripping in the huge baggy hazmat suit. “You don’t need to do this. Liam, I’m sorry. Look, I can help. You want the supplies Jethro took. I know where he keeps them.”
“Yeah, where?”
“I can take you to them.”
“No. That’s not how this works.” He nudged with the barrel of the gun and they continued moving toward a huge ponderosa pine. It had to be at least 100 feet in height with branches that extended like outstretched fingers. Tate tried to make a run for it but he didn’t get far. Liam fired one round into the air, and he stumbled and fell on his face, assuming he’d been shot. He hadn’t. Liam hurried over and scooped him up by the back of the collar and began dragging him across the earth, over veiny roots, and through the brush to the foot of the pine.
“Please, Liam.”
“Joe,” he called him over. “Toss this over that branch.”
Joe took the rope from him and looked at Tate.
“Joe. C’mon man. No. Please.”
Hesitant to follow through, Joe glanced at Liam. “Liam.”
“Did I stutter?” Liam asked.
Joe shook his head. Liam kept a firm grip on Tate as he watched Joe throw one end of the rope over a wide branch. It dropped down the other side.
It was at that point Elisha made her way over. She placed a hand on his arm. “Liam. A word.”
“Not now.”
“Don’t do this.”
“You saw what this coward did.”
“I didn’t do it, Liam. It was Jethro,” Tate said, his eyes welling up. Fear was getting the better of him.
“Jethro wouldn’t have known had you not told him. You threw your friend, our friend, my friend, under the bus all for what? A bag of meth? And let’s not forget Harry. How many times did that man help you out? Huh! You piece of shit.”
Elisha tugged at his arm.
He spun, his frustration getting the better of him. Liam snapped, “What?”
“A second of your time.”
Liam scowled at Tate. For the past few weeks, he hadn’t been able to get him out of his mind. He’d run through what he would do to him multiple times. He stepped away, out of earshot but not out of sight. Thomas watched over Tate
who was on his knees, tears now running down his cheeks.
“What is it?”
Elisha looked at Tate then back at him. “You do this, and you are no better than him.”
He scoffed. “You think I care?”
“You’re better than this.”
“Is that why you didn’t want me to come out here?” he asked.
She leaned forward. “Look, what he did was wrong but…”
“But what, Elisha?” he snapped. “Huh?”
“I get it. Travis, Harry, they didn’t deserve it. But they are gone. Nothing you do right now will change that but it might change you.”
He smiled. “This whole event already has, Elisha.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“Of course it does. We don’t get a say in it. The world is burning around us and the choices we make right now determine whether we survive or die. What… you think because your parents made it back, it means something?” He looked over to Tate. “We let him walk and he will go right back to Jethro.”
“And if you kill him. What do you think that will do? Huh? Give you peace? It won’t.”
“Elisha, Elisha. Always the voice of reason. The true and steady.” He shook his head. “You heard what Garcia said. We need to think about our survival now.”
“That’s not what he meant.”
“Of course it was.” He frowned, squinting at her as he leaned toward her. “This isn’t a time for mercy. We let him live and he will do this again. I won’t have that happen, not to me, you or anyone else.”
“Leave me out of this.”
“I never asked you to come.”
“You never said you would kill anyone.”
“We already have, Elisha. How is this any different?”
“We had no choice,” she shot back.