The Day After Never - Retribution (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 4) by Russell Blake

his stomach twisted at the reality of their situation. It was six hundred and fifty miles as the crow flies to Tulsa, which even under the best of circumstances would take several weeks – and if they ran into trouble, possibly much longer, depending on what kind it was. A lame horse, an attack by scavengers, bad weather, anything unexpected…
    And that was just to Tulsa. From there, they’d split off and head to Mississippi, where they’d try to confirm that her son, Tim, was either dead or alive. Which would take yet more time and was in Crew territory, increasing their risk exponentially.
    Sierra viewed the world unrealistically, he thought. Or at least hadn’t thought through exactly how long their trek was likely to take. With travel time, they’d be lucky if they made it back by Christmas, assuming they could negotiate the passes in the heavy snow the area regularly saw.
    Lucas snuck a look at Sierra out of the corner of his eye, taking in her bronzed skin and earnest expression, and banished the doubt nagging in his gut.
    Too late to back out now. He was knee deep in the swamp, and the only way out was following through on his promise to her.
    For better or worse.
     

Chapter 13
    Houston, Texas
     
    Snake accompanied his retinue to the university hospital entrance, where Whitely and his entourage from Lubbock had organized a test of the newly developed Crew vaccine on a group sequestered in an isolation chamber. They strode down the dark halls to the stairwell that led to the basement, where Whitely greeted them with a troubled expression.
    “Well?” Snake demanded.
    “As you know, we exposed twenty test subjects to the virus yesterday after giving them the vaccine last week. Two of them experienced mild side effects after the shot, but that was expected in at least some cases.”
    “What side effects?”
    “Chills, fever, muscle soreness, somnolence.”
    Snake didn’t understand the last term, but shrugged it off as though it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a medical expert, having never made it past ninth grade and having stopped paying attention since sixth, but he didn’t need to be – he was the head of the most powerful group in the region.
    “So what’s the result? Cut to the chase,” Snake snapped.
    “You can have a look yourself.”
    Whitely led him to a window, where twenty men and women were locked in a large room. Fifteen of them were huddled on one side of the room, and five were on cots as far from the rest as they could be placed. Snake’s eyes narrowed as he took in the five, who were soaked in bodily fluids and laboring for breath.
    He pointed at a woman who wasn’t moving. Her face was cyanotic, and her hands had curled into claws. “She’s dead.”
    Whitely nodded. “The other four will be soon enough.”
    “Seventy-five percent success isn’t a success.”
    Whitely didn’t budge. “I know.”
    “You’ve been directing this show for almost, how long, a year? And this is what you have to show for it?”
    “Over a year. But I’m not a scientist. I’m in charge of security and of making sure the staff has whatever it needs. Magnus never intended me to direct the medical side of the project. I’m an engineer, not a doctor or a microbiologist.”
    “Who’s heading up this effort?”
    “Gabriel Kovaks. He replaced the traitor Magnus executed before…before he left.”
    “I want to see him.”
    “He’s in Lubbock. He couldn’t come. He’s still working on the vaccine, trying to figure out what’s gone wrong.”
    Snake’s eyes narrowed to slits, and the tattoos on his face writhed like snakes. “Smart man. If he was here, I’d have him executed.”
    Whitely didn’t respond for a long moment. “The problem is we don’t have anyone more qualified, so if you do, the project’s over.”
    “Project? You mean the string of failures is over, don’t you? What has been accomplished, exactly, other than wasting a ton of time and resources?” Snake blurted.
    “Magnus