Time of Fate (Wealth of Time Series #6) by Andre Gonzalez (e book reader online txt) 📗

away from the cabin increased the chances of the situation spiraling out of control. But the call needed to be placed, plus an attempt to hear from Colin and know that he was okay.

Twenty minutes passed and he finally reached the edge of the trees where a lone three-block road, Main Street, stretched with every store and service available in town. At such an early hour, only the coffee shop appeared to have its lights on, a half-dozen people inside enjoying their boost to start the day. Chris remembered that simplicity of life, having done the same thing each morning before heading to the factories, getting familiar with those same faces across the shop, a sense of community.

He shook the nostalgia and checked his cell phone, the beautiful sight of service bars greeting him, and dialed the head of their Chicago chapter, a younger gentleman by the name of Patrick Williams.

“Pat! How are you, my good sir?” Chris greeted once he answered.

“Chris?!” Patrick replied, his voice deep, but clearly surprised. “Where the hell are you? People are starting to talk.”

“Yes, I know. Pat, we have entered Mission Lifesaver. Start the process and get word out to all of our lovely Revolters that this mission is currently active. They know what to do.”

“Holy shit, sir, so it’s true. No one ever thought this would happen.”

Thanks for rubbing it in, Chris thought. “Thank you, Pat, neither did I, but we must focus and get out of this. I’m not going to worry, and neither should anyone else. This plan is tailored to get things back to normal. Now get the ball rolling.”

“Yes, sir. Take care of yourself.”

Patrick hung up and the wheels of madness were officially in motion. Within three hours, most of the major cities in North America would burn to the ground in a coordinated effort that would leave national governments scrambling, the Road Runners unable to do anything but run, all while the Revolution sat back and watched, laughing.

Chris wasted no time dialing Colin, keeping his head up to watch for anyone who might spot him from Main Street. No one did, but the phone rang and rang until eventually dropping the call. He tried one more time, getting the same result, and stuffing the phone back into his pocket as he swirled around and started back into the woods. “Dammit!” he snarled, stomping on the snow, kicking any of the heavy sticks that dared get in his path.

All Chris wanted was some assurance that his life wasn’t in danger. His rage boiled up to the point he no longer felt the fatigue in his old legs. He considered sprinting for his cabin, but didn’t trust his body to handle such a task, especially under his hot head.

A trip to the grocery store had to wait now—it was time to hunker down until matters sorted themselves out.

Chapter 19

Mission Lifesaver was designed to do quite the opposite of its title. The only life it meant to save was that of Chris Speidel, never mind the potential thousands of casualties that were sure to fall once the mission was complete.

No one in the Road Runners knew about this mission by the Revolution, thanks to it being one of its best kept secrets. For those Road Runner soldiers on the streets, trying to contain the mass protests that now carried on every minute of the day, word had arrived that the Wealth of Time store in Nevada no longer existed. This news spread among both the soldiers and those protesting, prompting raucous celebration by those who understood this to be the first step toward the collapse of the Revolution. It fueled their fire, making them believe their international protests had somehow led to this happening, forever oblivious that Commander Briar was going to move forward with this mission regardless of what any of the membership felt.

As they tended to be, the Road Runners were organized to a fault, even during mass, public unrest. They had numbers and they knew it, setting up shifts for different groups of protesters to show up and relieve the group before them. It had become an around-the-clock phenomenon with no end in sight. They remained disciplined, not peeping a word to the local media, not chanting anything that might give away their grand secret. It was the ultimate display of unity, millions of people across North America protesting in the streets, and not an ounce of correct speculation from those in the regular world following the story.

Since they had the luxury of different shifts, everyone could check the news channels and internet to see what the world thought of their display. Rumors swirled, claiming the people were part of a Satanic cult sent to the United States for a showdown against Christianity. Others speculated it was the actual New World Order, causing a distraction while they furthered some sort of underground agenda. It was all gibberish and baseless.

No one had any intent to invoke violence during the protests. They understood the organization had issued a blackout, cutting off the power to all official offices, demanding people stay home or otherwise face punishment. But the soldiers had no way of enforcing these measures, especially now that local police had arrived and the Road Runners couldn’t exactly start arresting people in front of them. The protest hadn’t been planned, so no credit was due, but things definitely worked out in their favor, leaving the protesters at an impasse with the Road Runner soldiers and free to continue their cause.

By the time the news broke of the Nevada store, plans formulated to drag out the protests until word was received that Chris Speidel had been killed. Then it would turn into a mass party. Until then, they had to hold their ground and keep focused.

In Denver, the gathering had swelled to just over six thousand people at Civic Center Park, right across the street from the state capitol. Several Road Runners made the trip to Denver, sensing something magnificent