Crisis Event: Black Feast Read Online Free PDF Page B

place and wrong time for the Pharoah.”
    Blakely had heard enough. He was now convinced he was the only sane person in the room.
    He wanted out of there, and out from under the tons of dirt and steel and cinderblock.
    He forced himself to take a few deep breaths as Derek rambled on about the Bible and random reversals of fortune and God’s will for America.
    “So let’s go kill this bitch and get the package,” Blakely said during a lull in Derek’s spiel.
    “Now you’re talking,” Titman said, and lit his cigar. “We’ll make a go getter out of you yet.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Sadie shut off the Honda. Instantly the engine noise was replaced by thunder—one loud rolling rumble punctuated with low-pitched bangs and booms, like a band of mad kodo drummers banging randomly on their biggest bass drums.
    It was a constant noise, and she wondered half-heartedly how much hearing loss she would suffer if it continued.
    Not that hearing loss would matter much in the big picture.
    Not that much of anything would matter in the big picture.
    Sadie kicked down the bike stand and eased herself off the seat. Her legs shook, and her back was on fire from her left shoulder blade to her hip.
    Beyond the club strike injuries, the exertion of the fight had left her legs sore. She could barely move her left arm or turn her head. She had to swivel her entire body to look at anything.
    Walking to the sign on the side of the road was painful. She did it anyway, and after knocking away dust she discovered the town she was looking down on was Shanksborough.
    The seven miles she’d travelled to get here had taken her two hours. She’d had to backtrack to get around closed roads, and to stop so that she could vomit or pee.
    Several times she’d had to lie down on her back and stretch her hip muscles by rolling one thigh over the other while pressing her shoulders down hard against the road.
    At one point she had to stop beneath an overpass and shelter there as dust fell in thick clumps and lightning lashed the land around her. Several strikes had come so close to hitting her that her long brown hair had stood almost straight out from her scalp. The lightning had blinded her and she’d smelled the hot bitter stench of freshly made ozone.
    And the storm wasn’t anywhere close to over.
    She’d taken a risk by riding out from under the overpass and heading south during a lull, and so far she’d been lucky. But luck might not last.
    She had to get shelter.
    Something indoors and solid and reasonably sealed off from the weather.
    Her respirator was beginning to foul and she needed to change cartridges before silicosis became a certainty.
    She also needed medicine.
    She was going to be laid-up for several days if she couldn’t find some serious painkillers. Ethanol and Ibuprofin could only do so much. She needed something strong enough to let her ignore her pain and push south as fast as she could.
    She couldn’t help thinking she was being watched or tracked or followed, and had been ever since she got on the motorcycle in Youngstown.
    She was afraid of the people who’d fired at her in Youngstown, even if the fear was irrational. After all, it wasn’t likely anyone could have followed her without her knowing it. She’d travelled a hundred miles and seen no signs of anyone trailing her.
    Still, the feeling of being pursued didn’t leave.
    “Fear keeps us alive,” she muttered, mimicking the words of the professor who taught her first cognitive neuroscience class.
    Sadie’s voice was lost in the boom of thunder from a nearby lightning strike, but the lecture echoed in her head.
    “Manifestations of intuitive thoughts that bring about fear might be a result of the central nervous system acting to warn humans of dangers they cannot see,” the professor had said. “The difficulty is differentiating between valid or invalid fear warnings.”
    Sadie couldn’t tell if she