𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 10

Urgent

1995

Ryle

"Captain, we have a problem!" I burst into the tent where Samuel is sitting, slumped over at the camping table with a tired look painted into his eyes.

"Oh, we do?"

I nod and toss the notes I took from the tape recordings on the table in front of him, followed by the crumpled script of the last debriefing.

He skims the text shortly and looks up to me, suddenly very well awake.

"Holy cowbell..."

My pulse is erratic, my breath as well.

I have seen the effects of weather anomalies on people before, on injuries, but if what the scholar said is true, we have to treat this as an emergency, as a health hazard.

As a contagious disease.

"What more do you know?" Samuel shoots me a glance while noting something in his notebook.

I shrug, uncertain.

"There are... eight more cassettes left, I believe. I don't know what they hold on information, and I also don't know how much worse they can get."

Apparently, my answer doesn't satisfy him.

"He did tests on a kid, Sam. A fucking kid, I mean- this man is a sick bastard and-" I take a rushed breath.

No need to get into this so deeply.

My eyes lock with the Captain's.

"Why is it my task, man? Shouldn't I be out there briefing missions?"

The chair Samuel sits on creaks when he scoots back and crosses his arms doubling in muscle mass in comparison to mine.

"What's going on with you?"

A sigh escapes my lips. I don't know.

"Yes, I could have assigned this to anyone else, I could have assigned you to a different rank if it were up to my liking. But I didn't, so get the fucking message," Samuel notes.

My eyes narrow at his. "What message? That I possibly will see my team die because I'm not there?"

Why am I arguing with my friend?

Samuel sees it the same way, his brows raised.

Silence spreads over us and I blankly stare at the notes from the recordings and the folded scripts Maxine just handed to me.

A wild thought comes to my mind and I speak it before I can stop myself. "Do the rules still apply if I decide to take your offer?"

The Captain clicks his tongue. He knows what I mean – we both do.

"Well, I'm not there to check that, am I?" he clears his voice and braces his arms on his knees, "I don't care in that case. Who cares about rules anymore, is the real question."

I straighten when I hear his words.

"Okay then, I take the offer to work abroad. But-"

"There is always a but..."

"But I will stay here until the law is lifted."

Taking from the way the Captain furrows his brows, it seems as if he regrets having made that offer in the first place.

"Okay, but anything that resolves from that after is your crusade."

I grin mischievously and nod briefly.

"Alright then, Sir," I mock a limp salute and leave the tent, hearing Samuel chuckle behind me.