Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 Gandy, A. (my miracle luna book free read TXT) 📖

at a full sprint. My heart pounds, and the tree line still seems too far away for us to make it with all of the gunfire piercing the night around us. I trip over a hole in the ground, twisting my ankle in the process. Patrick barely slows, just enough to keep me on my feet and keeps his eyes trained forward. We’re barely ten yards from the trees when a black aircraft appears above us, the sound of chopping blades our only warning before dust and dirt fly into our eyes from the wind.

It’s not a helicopter as I’d originally thought, but some sort of large cargo airship. The gunfire ceases, or I can’t hear it any more, as the deafening sound of the airship hovers directly above us. My lungs burn as we push even harder, but the buffeting wind slows us. A spotlight floods us with blinding light, and my steps falter again as the ground in front of us seems to wash out in an instant. My free hand flies to my eyes, trying to gain visibility, but it’s futile.

Before I even realize what’s happening, a sound like 12 giant zippers being undone at once surrounds us, and a platoon of black-masked men land on all sides.

“Sadie, look out!” I hear Peter’s hoarse scream and look back to see him directly outside the circle of assailants, Todd nowhere to be found.

He’s grappling with two of them and holding his own, and I turn to run back to him when Patrick’s hand is wrenched painfully from mine. The force spins me around, and arms like steel bands wrap around me from behind. “No, no!” I scream, as I look down and see that it’s not Patrick who has me, but one of the attackers. I kick and thrash with all my might, but the man’s grip is like iron, and he doesn’t flinch when my boots connect with his shins.

My frantic eyes land on Patrick, with two men holding his arms, while a third snatches a bag over his head. “Patrick!” The useless scream is torn from my lips, and I see him jerk in response. One of the arms caging me comes up to slap a hand over my mouth.

Realizing this might be my only chance, I bite down on his hand until the coppery tang of blood hits my tongue, and the hand is snatched away. With all my might, I kick backwards towards the man’s groin, and his arm drops away. I sprint towards Patrick, my only thought to free him so we can get out of here. Aiming for the closest man, I throw all of my weight at him right where he’s clutching Patrick’s arm. Surprise works in our favor, because he’s knocked clear of Patrick and we land in a tangle on the ground. I try to roll away, but he grabs my braid and snatches my head back. The searing pain in my scalp loses importance when he follows up with a meaty arm around my throat.

A bare trickle of air is making it to my starving lungs, and blackness starts to edge out the floodlights in my vision. Patrick once again has three men on him, and Peter is fighting three also, with one downed at his feet. He gets in a blow with the butt of his pistol and downs a second, but there are just too many. The men holding Patrick succeed in pinning his arms, and one of them uncaps a syringe with his teeth and plunges it deep into his neck. He stiffens with a jerk, and the last thing I see before blacking out is him crumpling backwards into his assailant’s arms.

Taking Flight

I wake with a start, adrenalin still pumping from being captured by our kidnappers. My heart is beating wildly as I bolt upright, and am hit with a pounding headache right behind my eyes. Cradling my throbbing head with my hands, I scan my surroundings warily. I’m in a dark-paneled room with a closed door, sitting on a large bed which takes up almost all of the space, and to my utter shock Patrick is laid out next to me, unmoving. I crawl over to him with as much speed as my throbbing head will allow, and give him a gentle shake. He doesn’t stir, so I feel for a pulse in his wrist. It’s there, steady and even. A shaky breath escapes me, and I’m relieved that they’ve at least left us together and he seems to be stable, if still knocked out.

Another surprise, we’re not restrained in any way. Although, we’re probably locked in, so no need to restrain us. I scoot to the edge of the bed, and stand in the tight space between the bed and the wall. Gingerly making my way around—my whole body screaming from the abuse it’s been through between the crash and abduction—I pause next to the door and listen, holding my breath. Muffled voices come through, and a low humming sound I can’t place.

I reach over and gently twist the knob, which opens with a soft click. For a moment, I stare at it in shock. What is going on here? Steeling my nerves, I ease to the crack and peer out, expecting to see someone standing guard, but it’s an empty hallway. Voices travel more clearly down it, now that I’ve cracked the door. I’m torn between exploring the area, or staying with Patrick. I straighten my shoulders, take a deep breath, and ease out into the hall. I pause for a moment, expecting an ambush that doesn’t materialize.

The hallway is dark, with the dark metal walls gleaming in the faint light from the other end. Nylon netting hangs every few feet down the walls, and the floor is made of some sort of closely-packed grating. A few short inches below my feet, I can see pipes and wiring running in a tangle.

The voices are all localized to the other end