Dark Abyss by Kaitlyn O'Connor (classic novels for teens .txt) 📕

on this. This entire episode is going to land in our laps if we can’t hand them proof that it was a terrorist!” He studied Simon for a long moment. “Do whatever you think is necessary, Simon, to protect the Atlantean Territory. We have to put a stop to these attacks!”

Surprise flickered through Simon, but he didn’t think he’d misunderstood.

Frankly, he didn’t give a damn if he had. He’d had enough himself. Nodding, he pushed his chair back and got up. “I’ll see to it,” he said grimly. He paused at the door.

“I’ll have the full reports on the damage to you by late tomorrow.”

He was more thoughtful than angry as he left. The anger was still there, roiling inside of him. Much of it had found purpose, though, a possible outlet that had cooled the nearly overwhelming urge to strike out at something, anything to vent his frustration.

Sucking in a deep, cleansing breath when he emerged from the government building, he looked around at the city. He was third generation aqua-former, or mutant abomination as the air-breathers referred to them, he thought with a flicker of anger.

It was hard to say what bothered him most—his own sense of failure or the not so subtle implications of the mayor and governor that he’d failed.

A lot of good men had died today because he’d failed to prevent a terrorist from invading the city and a lot of innocent tourists looking for the possibility of a new and better life.

He was going to have somebody’s ass when he found out who’d fallen down on the job and let the bastard through, he thought grimly!

He supposed there was some truth to the charge that the territory was a wild place, but then again ninety percent of the colonists were men. They lived on the edge, knowing every breath they took living in the territories could be their last. They worked hard. They played hard and there was always some bastard out there who preferred claim jumping and robbery to actual work.

He was more inclined to view it as rowdy rather than lawless, however, although he would grant them that much. He took it damned personally, though, that the entire territory was lumped together as if there was no difference, as if it was all the same. He was High Guardian of New Atlanta, the capital city … as his father had been before him and his grandfather before that. Considering how thinly spread they were, he and his watchmen did a hell of a job at keeping the peace. Their crime rate was certainly no higher than the major cities in the states—not as high from what he’d been able to determine.

The same could be said for all of the other established cities within the territory if not the smaller burgs that had popped up over the years across the vast continental shelf claimed by the U.S. Outside those areas … well, it was a territory and the last frontier …

on Earth. They attracted all kinds and that included plenty of people that had worn out their welcome among the air-breathers. It was the militia’s job to patrol the areas beyond the cities and they were spread thinner than the watchmen.

Which meant he was responsible not only for keeping peace within the city but protecting it from attack from the outside when necessary.

And he meant to do that! Whatever it took!

Instead of waiting for the reports to be brought to him, Simon toured the disaster area and the emergency medical stations that had been set up to treat the injured. He felt vaguely nauseated as he made his way at last to the Watch Center. The death toll was staggering.

The bastards had planned their assault well, or been damned lucky. He wasn’t sure which, but they’d managed to set the bomb off at the peak of activity in the center of the city and caught a bus load of potential colonists on top of that. Of the fifty men, women, and children that had arrived for a tour, thirty-five were dead and the rest likely to die. Twenty men had been in the plant itself and it had been shift change so they still weren’t sure of just how many of them had been killed—possibly all of them unless some had left a little early and some had been late reporting for their shift. There was another hundred dead or dying who’d been in the office building directly across from the blast or moving along the street between the two buildings, sixty in or around the surrounding buildings, because the concussion of the blast had blown out the windows and the buildings had imploded. Added to that, they had several hundred people with injuries from the flying debris.

He discovered when he reached the Watch Center that it, too, had been closed off due to damage. Wondering how many of his own men had been in the building when the shockwave hit, he headed toward the nearest watch station on the edge of the city. There were several inches of water standing on the foyer floor when he emerged from the pool and uneasiness flickered through him. Hoisting himself onto the rim, he ignored the dryer and the locker with robes and stalked into the control center. To his relief, he spotted his lieutenants, Ian, Caleb, and Joshua as soon as he entered.

“What the fuck is all this water doing on the floor?” he growled by way of greeting.

Ian flicked a quick look at him. “Glad to see you’re still among the living, too,”

he said sardonically. “There’s been a good bit of traffic in and out since the blast.”

Simon glared at him, and then encompassed the rest of the room. “Emergency or