Fractured (The Remaining, Book 4)
D. J. Molles
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
This is the destiny of those who stand for others.
Their honor will be bought in blood and pain.
The Camp Ryder Hub is broken. Lee is nowhere to be found, and his allies are scattered across the state, each of them learning that their missions will not be as easy as they thought. Inside the walls of Camp Ryder, a silent war is brewing, between those few that still support Lee's vision of rebuilding, and the majority that support Jerry's desire for isolation. But this war will not remain silent for long. And in this savage world, everyone will have to make a choice.
To keep their morals. Or keep their lives.
pocket and took out the pouch, the desire for a little buzz winning out. “How you feelin’ this morning?” LaRouche glanced up. Found Wilson standing there. “Fine,” he said, and tucked a wad of tobacco into his cheek, brushed his fingers off on his vest. “No aches?” Wilson’s eyebrow went up, prodding. “No fever? No chills?” LaRouche shook his head. “Nope. Seems I’m in the clear.” Wilson shrugged. “Well… I’m glad.” LaRouche snorted. “Go ahead and say it.” “What?” Wilson laughed. “Say what?”
will you renounce this world and all of its evils? Will you repent for the sins you have committed against God? Will you commit yourself to the Lord, the one true God, and His son Jesus Christ, the Almighty? And in so doing, will you serve with purity and sanctity, and with faithfulness and truthfulness? Will you promise to fight for the Lord your God, against all the wiles of Satan and Satan’s people, and thereby extinguish evil from the world and return this country to a path of righteousness?”
the last shift, because the last three-hour shift took you to dawn, and there was no sleep after that. If Harper wanted to be a dick about it, he could have removed himself from the watch rotation—the man in charge needs his rest and all that—but he had never seriously entertained the idea. Four o’clock in the morning found him standing atop the LMTV, hunched against a sharply cold night and thinking about, of all things, a Bavarian cream doughnut. He thought about the way the chocolate icing on
bare-skinned bodies were just now reaching the edge of the woods. They were spread out in a line, four or five of them. The right edge of the line closer than the left. Moving ridiculously fast. Faster than a human should have been able to move. “I need some help!” LaRouche hollered. Jim shot out of the Humvee, rifle in hand. Joel squirmed into the turret, swung it in the direction of the oncoming infected. Jim stuttered to a stop. “What do you need?” “He’s clean!” LaRouche stood up. “Put
to the silent words. His brain conjured a spliced series of images from his life. Nomex gloves giving the thumbs-up. Eyes unreadable behind reflective visors. A medic shining a light into his eyes after an IED went off. The plunging feeling in his gut just before they hit a door. Near-delirium caused by cold and exhaustion and hunger, somewhere in a Florida swamp. All of these things preceded and followed by the same words. I’m good to go. I’m good to go. Lee tilted his head just slightly.