Book online «Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever Winkless, Lance (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📖». Author Winkless, Lance
PRAISE FOR CAPITAL FALLING
Draws you in
“Fantastic book! It draws you in like a Venus fly trap and takes you on a ride. Definitely a good read!”
Like a bar of chocolate can't put it down till finished
"Good well thought out book, kept trying to put it down but had to keep reading, looking forward to next two books!"
“I don't usually choose to read this type of book. This is, in fact the first. It definitely held my attention throughout, and I liked the interaction of the main characters. I recommend this one.”
A Great Zompoc!
"The thrills and spills were nonstop in this latest instalment. A new twist to the tale was introduced and battles continue to rage across London! I look forward to book 4!"
Lance Winkless was born in Sutton Coldfield, England, brought up in Plymouth, Devon and now lives in Staffordshirewith his partner and daughter.
For more information on Lance Winkless
and future writing see his website
Also By Lance Winkless
THE Z SEASON TRILOGY
THE CAPITAL FALLING SERIES
CAPITAL FALLING 2 – DENIAL
CAPITAL FALLING 3 – RESURGENCE
CAPITAL FALLING 4 - SEVER
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This book is a work of fiction, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organisations, places, incidents
and events are coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 Lance Winkless
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced,
transmitted in any form or by any means,
photocopying, electronic, mechanical or
otherwise without the express written
permission of the copyright holder.
Published by Lance Winkless
Retreat, retreat, the word repeats inside Jason’s head over and over on a loop, toying with his sanity. He had agreed with Tyrone’s suggestion to ‘retreat’ instantly when the word first fell out of his comrade’s mouth. The word had given Jason a glimmer of hope and a chance of survival, knowing there was never any dishonour in withdrawing when faced with an overwhelming enemy. Even the most determined and renowned commander is forced to retreat on occasion, aren’t they? And nobody is ever going to benefit from a brave but futile counterattack by two isolated squaddies, low on ammo and without any prospect of support.
Jason shakes his head vigorously to try and snap himself out of the haunting trance that has taken hold of him. The visions of death and slaughter threatening to overwhelm him. His bullet entering Den’s blood-splattered forehead as his comrade began to turn into a monster on the floor of the school’s staff toilet, sitting at the forefront of Jason’s visions.
Dislodged dust and debris fall from his helmet and the sickening cycle in his head is finally broken, even if the image of Den’s dead face will never leave him. A stinging sensation in his eyes welcomes him back to reality as acrid smoke wafts across his face, to also coat the back of his throat. Despite his discomfort, Jason manages to concentrate on his surroundings. The devastated street immediately puts his nerves on edge and his finger rushes to find the reassurance of his rifle’s trigger, the images before his eyes equally traumatic as the visions he has just exorcised.
“Where do we retreat to?” Jason asks Tyrone, standing silently next to him. His mate’s eyes are distant and fixed on the charred black crater where the doomed Warrior armoured vehicle had stood before it was vaporised only moments ago.
“Back the way we came?” Tyrone answers despondently, his focus gradually pulling away from the horror and onto Jason.
“I’m not sure about that mate. I don’t think we’ll be welcomed back there. They made it crystal clear that we have to push forward no matter what. The only thing waiting for us there will be a bullet,” Jason replies.
“They’re not gonna shoot us. We’re not deserting, we just need to regroup.”
“Are you sure about that? We could be infected for all they know.” Jason points out.
“What do you suggest then?” Tyrone insists.
A chilling scream rings out from behind Jason before he has a chance to answer Tyrone. Immediately, Jason twists to turn in the direction of the blood-curdling noise, his rifle raising to aim as he drops to his knee to take up a firing position. Black smoke from the explosions and burning buildings hangs in the air distorting his view, insisting on blowing into his eyes to irritate them further.
Where the fuck did it come from? Jason thinks as he struggles to focus on anything in his immediate vicinity. Never mind seeing into the distance where the crater sits and the obliterated houses burn. He raises his arm to eye level in the hope that his sleeve will soak up the moisture that his tear ducts are producing to allow him to see clearer.
Jason’s dust contaminated sleeve is rough as it moves across his eyelids, smearing water over his cheeks which cool as it evaporates when his arm lowers back to grip his rifle. His vision improved marginally; he scans again in the dense smoke to find where the scream has come from.
“There!” Tyrone announces from next to Jason, where he has taken up a covering position. His finger pointing.
Jason’s eyes dart in the general direction of the pointing figure, but his eyes are filling with water again and his focus blurs. Blinking deliberately to try and clear his vision as his rifle points aimlessly, Jason’s heart thumps in fear and anticipation.
“I’m not seeing it,” Jason confesses.
“Two o’clock, a woman in a nightdress,” Tyrone tells Jason.
Jason finally sees the movement and redoubles his efforts to bring the ghoul in