The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

Sammie raised her gun and moved forward on cat’s feet. Michael cursed under his breath but followed. Outside the first landings, which were across the corridor from each other, Sammie placed a finger over her lips and pointed to a spot just above each door.

That’s when he saw it: A tiny red pulse, about the size of a laser pointer. She motioned toward the other landings. His eyes refocused; Michael saw the same pulsations. She leaned in and whispered.

“It’s some kind of security. Maybe they’re under a lockdown.”

His stomach churned. “From what?”

She looked down at their guns. “People like us?”

He remembered the quarterly drills at Albion High School.

“Huh? We’re not active shooters.”

“But what if there are?”

“Well, shit. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

They retraced their steps and returned to the lobby just in time to catch movement outside on the promenade.

Two unfamiliar men—peacekeeper tall and wide—appeared in blue body suits, each bearing a silver weapon with long cylindrical shaft. Far nastier looking than thump guns, the shafts resembled military-grade silencers. He and Sammie ducked into the corridor and realized they needed to take another route.

As they scampered down the corridor, which appeared to extend two football fields, Michael’s palm sweated against the pistol. He kept his voice low.

“Who were those guys?”

“Not ours.”

“Looked like they were hunting for somebody.”

“You want to go back and ask them who?”

“Is it too soon to say we’re screwed?”

“Yes. Too soon.”

“I just don’t wanna keep running from guys with guns.” His breath quickened. “Already played that.”

“Don’t worry, Michael. This isn’t like before. We’ve got people on our side. They knew the enemy might be here. They’ve got a plan.”

“If they do, they sure as shit didn’t let us in on it.”

As they reached the corridor’s end and Sammie put a finger over her lips, Michael and she stood at the top of the stairs and listened for footsteps below. The stairwell banked against the western end of the outpost. A multi-level window revealed the island beyond. The Atlantic smashed against a rocky shoreline, and just above it, a thick tree line guarded the island’s interior.

Sammie motioned downward, tapping thumb and forefinger together to indicate slow, gentle steps. As they took the first steps, she extended her weapon, gripped in both hands. Michael followed suit. You can do this, dumbass, he told himself.

They found no resistance as they reached Level 2. Signs directed them to research labs, not residences. He’d seen enough movies to know better and was relieved when she motioned downward to the main level.

Halfway there, the building shook. He thought earthquake, but Sammie knew otherwise. She didn’t have to say a word.

He did. “Blowing stuff up? Really? I’ll never trust a sunrise again.”

And down they went, pistols aimed. At the main level, they faced two options: Exit onto the promenade overlooking the ocean or exit the rear of the outpost. They split up, each checking a different option to deliver the all-clear. Sammie peeked out onto the promenade and retreated. Michael studied a walkway that cut like a snake into the stone hillside and scaled twenty meters to the tree line. Weapons fire above on the ocean side made the decision easy.

They scampered along the uneven path, exposed. The outpost towered above them, blocking the sun and creating a dawn effect. When they reached the trees, the land flattened, and multiple walkways offered options. Weapons fire came in short bursts, all in muddied echoes. The shooters were not close.

“Suggestions?” He asked.

“We have to find our people. They’re our best chance.”

“Assuming these other assholes aren’t picking them off right now.”

“What are you thinking, Michael?”

“What they told us during those drills at school. You hear shots, run the other way.”

Sammie nodded, but Michael anticipated her next words. “That’s for kids who don’t have guns. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to run from people with guns anymore.”

“I don’t. But I also don’t wanna see you dead.”

He sensed something unexpected and undefinable when he said those words. He drew a smile from Sammie.

“I came too far to die today,” she said. “But thanks.”

He shrugged. “So, we’re heading toward the gunfire?”

“We need to help our team.”

“Then away we go.”

They made their way east, crouching at moments where the foliage thinned out, exposing their position. As they neared what Michael thought resembled a gazebo, movement scaled the walkways from the main facility. In the distance, a shout and a cry preceded more weapons fire. Silence.

Michael thought he heard a familiar hum behind them and deep into the forest. Then it vanished.

A fist-sized rock rolled out of the trees and across the walkway. He and Sammie understood.

They fell to the ground a second before tracer fire cracked the morning air inches above them. They heard many footsteps. Faster and faster. Closer and closer.

As the shadows took form and rounded a bend just ahead, Sammie pulled her trigger, and Michael followed.

A man howled and stumbled. His allies came into full view and aimed long, silver weapons. They were wide-open targets, but when Michael fired, he missed. Sammie hit one shoulder high, but he only bounced back a half step. Four of them, all upright, the same blue bodysuits as seen on the Level 3 promenade.

Michael shifted his final thoughts to the parents he left behind in another universe. They would never learn how he died…

The tracers came as expected, but not in his direction. A landslide of flash pegs tore apart the four, who danced toward death as their bodies shredded. Two of their faces disintegrated. Arms separated. Blood sprayed. And then they were down.

Neither Michael nor Sammie had time to think. Their savior rode in on red, falling from the sky and landing between them and the dead. Just