Apokalypsis | Book 6 | Apokalypsis 6 Morris, Kate (cheapest way to read ebooks TXT) 📖

she was naked. She only wore panties and not even socks to keep her feet warm. There were spots of what looked like blood on the mattresses.

“Jeff sent us, okay?” Tristan lied.

“What? Jeff? You’re lying,” the man with the scraggly gray and brown beard accused. He was wearing thick eyeglasses, dirty jeans, and no shirt. On his feet were tall, black rubber boots.

“Not lying,” he lied further. “He sent us to bring her back. He wants her back. Got pissed about the deal. Said you guys didn’t pay enough for her. Your buddy reneged on the deal or something. Said he had a cheaper girl for you.”

The man lowered the pistol he held to her temple just momentarily to think about that. Tristan didn’t lower his own. He was now holding the pistol from his hip instead of the rifle, which he must’ve slung onto his back when they entered the bunker.

“Yeah, he said the deal went sour. You guys were supposed to pay more or something. I don’t know, man. You’ll have to talk to him yourself. I’m just the repo agent.”

“I ain’t had a call from him in almost two weeks. Some partner,” he complained. “If he wants to talk to us, why didn’t…”

His thought was cut off as the loud report of Tristan’s pistol echoed off the steel walls of the bunker. It was deafening. Jane’s ears immediately began ringing. The bearded man flew back and slammed into the metal wall before falling face-first onto the ground. The girl screamed simultaneously, and Tristan rushed forward. He stood over the man’s prone body, prepared to shoot again. As Roman had done, Tristan had shot the man in the face. There was no need for a second round.

“Jesus,” Elijah swore and also rushed forward but to the girl this time. “Are you okay?”

She jumped back with fear in her big eyes and didn’t even attempt to cover her bare breasts. Elijah wasted no time in whipping off his coat and sweater underneath. He handed them to her, and she pulled them on, presenting them with her back.

“We’re not with Jeff, young lady,” Tristan explained as he rushed around, scanning things in the room quickly, flipping over items, kicking them over with the toe of his boot to inspect everything. “Jeff’s dead. Two other girls were rescued. We’re here to get you out. Anyone else here?”

Shaking her head, she threw herself at Roman, the nearest one of them, and clung on tightly. She was tall, nearly as tall as him.

“Do you have shoes?” Tristan asked.

She backed away and shook her head. “No, they took them.”

“Someone, find her some shoes,” he told them.

She and Elijah went to the other rooms again, and she located a pair of men’s leather work-boots near the door. She also found a pair of socks on a tiny dryer near the toilet closet.

“Got ‘em,” she called out and headed back.

Something in Jane’s peripheral vision flashed by and grabbed her attention as Elijah joined her again with some sweatpants he must’ve found.

“Oh, crap,” she said and then yelled, “Roman, Tristan! Come quick!”

On the video monitor, she could see probably a dozen night crawlers closing in on the bunker. Elijah ran to the door and ended up slamming one of those thing’s arms between it and the door jamb. It howled with pain and pulled its arm back through. Then Elijah was able to shut and lock the steel door as another one rammed into it from the other side.

Chapter Three

Avery

After Tristan left again with a fresh crew, she felt too restless to sleep. They’d all only just gone to bed, or so it had felt before the group had come back. Tristan had returned so quickly from town with the sick girl, Clara, and now she was resting quietly. Avery was able to get her to consume an entire bowl of chicken soup and half of a Gatorade. Clara even managed to drink the mug of her mother’s favorite immune-boosting herbal tea. She’d given her antibiotics, pain meds, fever reducer, and a melatonin tablet to help her rest. It was the most knowledge she knew to do for the poor thing. She’d treated her obvious wounds but worried that there were many others that weren’t so obvious. Her wrists were raw and red, abraded and scabbed in places. Her knees matched, and her ankle, the one Tristan said was shackled to a bed, had been severely bruised like she’d tried many times to pull it free. There were ligature marks around her neck as if she’d either been choked or been made to wear something around her neck, which left the possible answers to that question swirling sickeningly around in Avery’s brain. For the most part, she was mostly bruised and hurt, but nothing seemed broken, and she didn’t seem to need stitches anywhere. She’d even cleaned her with a warm wet washcloth and soap, and poor Alex had helped her change the girl into warm, dry clothing. He was very uncomfortable with helping, but there wasn’t much choice, either. He’d also helped examine her as best as they could, but the fear in Clara’s eyes at him just entering the room had been so obvious Avery felt horrible for even needing his help. Clara didn’t verbalize much and had retreated into silence very quickly.

Avery wasn’t a doctor, but she was pretty sure the girl wasn’t sick with the RF1 or 2 viruses. Supposedly the government was working on home testing kits that the military was going to make available at the supply zones, but it was too far to travel to procure one tonight. With the road conditions and the state of the hospital when they’d rescued Elijah, Tristan also felt it wasn’t safe or smart to go to the hospital in the city. Besides, after finding the girl, he wanted to search for the other one as soon as possible in case she was in just as terrible shape. Clara wasn’t exhibiting the usual signs