LZR-1143: Redemption Read Online Free PDF

worry.
    “I’m just saying that teenage kids aren’t known for clear thinking,” I sighed, swirling the last of the bitter, cold coffee around in a cheap white ceramic mug, watching the small grounds catch on the side and slip slowly into the sludge beneath.
    “She’ll be fine. She can’t go anywhere, you know that. She needs to cool off. We’ll find her tonight, and we’ll see her before we leave. You know we can’t take her, don’t you?” Her voice was patient and soft, and I knew she was thinking the same thing. Feeling the same thing.
    That somehow, Ky was safer with us.
    “Yeah, I know. I hate the idea of leaving the kid. I’ve gotten to not hate her, and there aren’t that many people left out there I could say the same for. Especially now that there’s around seventeen people left alive on the planet.” I pushed the mug away, glancing toward the mess line that was vacant, considering a refill.
    It would still be like drinking sewer water, but at least it would be hot.
    “You ever think about what this is all going to look like in five years? In ten?” Her voice was curious, her eyes staring at the wall behind me.
    “Old?” I offered.
    She smiled slightly, then brought her own cup to her lips, taking a drink and then holding the cup in both hands.
    “Besides that. I mean, it’s never going to be the same, right? Millions of abandoned cars and falling buildings. Machines that will stay useless and empty. Buildings that will never be inhabited again. Even if we went conservative on our estimates, the human race has probably lost eighty percent. Entire cities will be empty. Entire states, possibly.”
    I thought for a moment, considering what we had already seen.
    Highways jammed with wrecked and abandoned cars. Windowless buildings. Broken bodies and empty neighborhoods.
    Silence.
    Death.
    Abandon.
    “I suppose it will look like a civilization has died, and we’ll be picking up the pieces, and leaving the bulk to die or be forgotten with time. It happens. We’ll be the new generation. The ones that start over.”
    “It’s a heavy burden, if you think about it,” she sighed.
    “That’s why I make a point not to think.”
    She nodded, still thinking, slightly smile stuck on her lips. I knew she was turning to thoughts of her daughter, so far away. So young and alone.
    “Listen, let’s just get some rest, and…”
    The last half of my sentence drifted off as we both turned toward the large window facing east, toward the city. A massive fireball was spitting into the sky from directly across the river, and our seats had just vibrated substantially.
    “What the hell is that?”
    We both adjusted our sunglasses and squinted against the filtered light coming in from the heavily shaded window.
    Black, tarry smoke was curling into the air, and the air rippled with the heat of the blaze.
    “It’s got to be a gas line,” I said softly, watching the flame and scanning the sky for any sign of an airplane or helicopter that could have been the cause. An air patrol had been set up around the District, looking for targets of opportunity as large herds formed and congregated. They never took a shot at the guys on our doorstep because of the risk of collateral damage, and they avoided the highways and airports under the deluded hope that those could all be useful once again. Some day.
    But the rest of the city was fair game.
    There was no sign of an external cause, and I assumed an accidental one. In all seriousness, we were damn lucky that the power plants and industrial chemical processing plants along the Eastern seaboard hadn’t combusted or sprayed the atmosphere with chlorine bleach or some other nasty concoction. They had been unmanned for long enough for shit to go sideways in a bad way, and the fact that they hadn’t yet was either dumb luck, or sheer providence.
    “It’s getting bigger,” said Kate, staring at the flames, which were mesmerizing in their orange and red fury.
    We both stood