August Burning (Book 1): Outbreak by Tyler Lahey Page B

continued unpacking bags in
silence. He sighed, placing a tube of anti-septic ointment on the table. “You
know one of the first things I tried to teach myself at boot camp?”
    She grinned. “No, what would that be?”
    “Only fools and the ignorant are
unafraid. Fear is the wise man’s reaction to danger.”
    She paused, weighing his words. “You
don’t seem afraid.” She was surprised; normally she was the one lecturing to
others.
    Troy shrugged. “Of course I am.
Perhaps less so than the others, but I feel it, just like you do. I’ll let you
in on a little secret though, if you want.”
    Adira leaned closer. “Please do,” she
pleaded.
    Troy nodded appreciatively, and
sighed. “Whatever is going on in New York, the military will handle. In a few
weeks, we’ll be back to our daily lives. People have no idea how effective a
machine our military can be. They probably think have a jaded view from
Afghanistan and Iraq. If there’s some sort of infection, it doesn’t stand a
chance against the firepower, the money, and the machines of the United States
military. That’s why I’m not really afraid.”
    Bennett rapped on the doorframe, his
wiry frame filling the space. He looked at the two of them, and unconsciously
rustled his own hair. “You guys better see this.”
    Troy nodded, brushing past him. Adira
came closer, and Bennett saw the corners of her soft mouth were rising
slightly. Unbidden, the memory of her naked body came to his mind as her lithe
form brushed against his chest. His mind had superb timing, he mused privately
with dripping sarcasm.
    “A camera crew snuck to the Hudson
River’s West Side. CNN’s showing it.”
    “Do you mean the east side? The
Manhattan side?
    Bennett gulped. “No.”
    Jaxton, Tessa, Liam, Harley, Elvis,
Bennett, Adira, and Troy all crowded around the tiny 22 inch TV screen. As they
drew closer, the picture crystallized on the screen.
    A cameraman was trying to focus his
lens, as an amateur reporter drew up in front of it. “Do you have it? Larry, do
you have it?”
    “Got it,” a deep voice crackled. A balding
man with pale skin and horn-rimmed glasses eyed the camera skittishly. He
jumped at the crack of gunfire, and ducked low behind a berry bush. A young soldier
guided them stealthily up the street flanked with brownstones. The man’s overly
bulky combat gear and cavalier attitude made him look foolish.
    “So you can just cut me out of the
picture later, right?”
    A deeper voice eased in from behind
the lens, “Oh. Yeah man, not a problem. And we’ll have you that cash as soon as
we get outta here.”
    The trio was up on a hill, hiding on
an elevated street a mile or so from what appeared to be the Hudson River. The
soldier grinned and cocked an eyebrow triumphantly. “Just stay outta the fuckin
way,” the soldier jeered loudly. A gunshot rang out again.
    The image froze, and the shot cut back
to the news desk. Ted was there again, adamantly cocking his eyebrow and
looking impossibly sharp in another blue suit. He looked off-screen, “are we
showing this?”
    Jaxton could hear shouting voices in
the studio, and the camera shook as something hit it. Ted’s eyes were alight.
He was following some off-screen struggle with great interest. “Keep rolling!”
He roared at the cameraman. The feed continued, and he rose, pointing
off-screen. “They deserve to see this! The people deserve to know!” There was
more shouting, and a thud. Ted calmly retook his seat, fixing his hair till it
was perfectly coiffed. The camera snapped back into focus, and he nodded. “Play
the file.”
    The amateur recording returned. A
series of streets stretched out below the camera. Brownstones hugged the
lethargic brown water. In the distance, one could easily make out the soaring
skyscrapers of the silent city. The camera zoomed in. There were soldiers.
Soldiers on the rooftops, their black barrels pointing at some unseen
adversary.
    “What are they aiming at?”