Half Dead World: Book One from the Apocalypse Tales by Adrienne Hargrove (little readers txt) 📗

splits into three squads. Doc Love, Garcia, who is a communications sergeant, Crowder, Kirkland, and I form a perimeter, designed to stop anyone who may happen upon our team trying to get into the building. The key to the mission is to be in the building before the government officials arrive with their security, which according to intel, should be in approximately thirty minutes. We stay hidden in the streets and radio in when we see what can only be a government convoy, drive toward the administrative building. Minutes later two additional cars drive in from the opposite direction.

The whole affair is done within an hour. After which, our team along with the SAS members leave unnoticed for the pickup point. The night stalkers land, seemingly out of nowhere the minute we arrive. Soon we are hundreds of miles away, no one the wiser. After refueling, and dropping off Williams and Kirkland, we make the trip back to the U.A.

Though the mission went smoothly, we are all dragging by the time we make it back to the room for debriefing. Mr. Burrow is waiting for us when we arrive. The video and audio recordings are turned over. He puts them in his briefcase and looks up before speaking to the group.

“The U.A. thanks you all, for a satisfactory mission. Captain Harkins, if you would please remain for a moment, the rest of you may go.”

And, with that, my first mission is complete.

Chapter Twelve Mission Failure

T he next ten months of missions are similar to the first, mostly intelligence gathering, usually without many problems. Occasionally there are some hairy situations, but nothing ever gets out of hand. We work together like clock-work and no one gets hurt.

Tonight, is Abram’s and my twelfth, mission with the team. Though I have wanted to, I have never asked about her time in the orphanage. The two of us, are partnered tonight, we are in an abandoned building, across the street from the target. Our job is to watch and listen as four of our team members make their way into the building to steal classified information, while the other six monitor from the streets below. We are the eyes and ears, watching for heat signatures listening for any sounds that signal an incoming threat. All is quiet, and dark, as I do something I have never done before…tell my story. Part of me does it, because I hope, she will reciprocate and tell me her history. But another part, a bigger part, just wants to be free of the burden of holding in this mountain of pain and shame.

I tell her about, what I learned more than two years ago, about my mom’s cancer, and how she refused treatment, because she thought it would harm me. I tell her about the overwhelming, guilt, and sadness, and anger I feel that she did it. “I wish I could remember her, even a little. She sacrificed herself for me and I don’t remember that first thing about her. At least, it makes sense now, why my dad hated me so much. He couldn’t stand to look at me. Every memory I have of him is harsh and ugly. It seemed like he was always drunk, always raging, and always ready to hit me. I don’t think she would have been that way if it had been the other way around. If he had sacrificed his life for mine, I think she would have loved me just the same, maybe even more. I don’t know if I would have survived, without my friend Haven and her family. For years they fed me every day, and made sure I got what I needed most, which turned out to be, an example of what normal people act like.”

She doesn’t say anything for several moments, just stars mutely at the computer screen, watching for some change in the heat signatures. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she begins to murmur her tale.

“Both my parents died in a car accident when I was five.”

My heart fills with a painful ache, as this, makes me think about Haven and her family.

“I remember very little about them. But I had a sister, Eliza, she was ten. We had no other family capable of caring for us, so we were sent to Lui University, that’s what we used to jokingly call it. But there was not a single, funny thing about it. There was a library, some rich philanthropist got Lui to agree to put one in each orphanage. If he funded it, she would provide the personnel. There were no teachers, just a sergeant in charge of maintaining the building. No one made us go, so most kids did not. The other kids were tired or just wanted to play. I spent every moment I could there. The library was the only escape. There was a female sergeant assigned to the library for a couple of years. Sergeant Hooper was the only decent person in the whole orphanage. She was smart and she taught me, enough so that when she was gone, I could teach myself. It wasn’t her job, in fact if anyone had found out she probably would have gotten in trouble. She did it anyway, she saved me...well, her and Eliza. The U.A. did not provide enough food to sustain children working twelve-hour days. But after every meal Eliza would give me some of her food. She told me not to tell anyone, but that she had made friends with one of the guards and he would make sure she had extra food. I don’t think at first there was any friend. She was just giving me her food. I was too young to realize what was going on. She was emaciated by the time she turned twelve, but she was still so beautiful. Eventually, she did make “a friend." He made sure she had enough