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The Alpha Plague - Books 1 - 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Action Thriller

Page 185

by Michael Robertson


  Alarms blared, lights flashed, the ship shook, and Seb couldn’t do anything to slow it down. He might have learned how to fly a ship and shoot from one, but he hadn’t mastered the art of landing yet. As the forest came into view, he pulled his seatbelt on and let go of the flight stick.

  The tops of the trees slapped against the bottom of the ship, dragging their branches along its metal body with a screeching sound. A second later Seb hit a more solid part of a tree, which spun the ship out of control through the densely packed forest. Several loud bangs shook the vessel before he hit the ground.

  The heavy shock of the crash landing left Seb’s ears ringing and his head spun. A headache stretched from his forehead from where he’d head-butted the dashboard, and his body felt as if his skeleton had been taken apart and put back together with a piece missing.

  Once Seb had unclipped from the seat, he stood up and nearly fell over again. A deep throb ran from his collarbone all the way across the front of his chest from where the seatbelt had taken the bulk of the impact. He winced at the pain and drew deep breaths.

  The ship leaned at an angle because the right side of it had planted into the soft ground. Seb had to hold on to his seat to remain upright.

  The screen that had linked Seb to the other ship had been shattered in the crash, but the light on the speaker beneath it still blinked. A crackle and Gurt’s voice came through. “I did as you said.”

  “Thank you,” Seb replied as he tried to blink his dizziness away.

  “The others weren’t too happy, but I told them it was your wish to return. That you wanted to go back for the Crimson Countess, but you didn’t want to jeopardise our mission. Or put any of us in danger. Especially SA.”

  Seb’s voice went shrill. “You said that?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  Seb ignored his question. “Make sure you get that rich idiot back to his daddy, and then enjoy your rest.”

  “We’re dropping him off and coming straight back. We’ve already agreed on it. You can detach the speaker we’re using now. We can stay in touch so we can find you again.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Yep. No.”

  “What do you mean no?” Gurt said.

  “I want to do this on my own. It’ll be dangerous and I don’t want you all risking your lives. I’m the one who wants to make sure the Crimson Countess dies.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t get to make that choice. I wasn’t happy about cutting you loose like I did, and the others certainly weren’t happy with me. The only way I can square it is if I come back and help.”

  Seb paused for a moment before he said, “Sorry, I’m going alone on this one.”

  Pouches hung from each arm on the pilot’s seat. Each pouch contained a blaster. Seb removed one of them, aimed it at the radio and pulled the trigger.

  The blaster kicked in his grip and an explosion of light and electrics filled the cockpit. A few fizzes and pops and Seb ruffled his nose at the smell of burning plastic.

  The smoke cleared and Gurt’s voice came through the radio again. “You missed, didn’t you?”

  A frown darkened Seb’s view of the console in front of him and he pulled the trigger again.

  This time the radio—rather than the console it sat embedded in—exploded in a shower of sparks, silencing Gurt and leaving Seb as he wished to be, well and truly on his own.

  Seb stood up, slipped the blaster he’d used to shoot the console into his back pocket, and stumbled out of the ship.

  Surrounded by fog in the dark forest, Seb turned around to look at the path he’d ploughed with his crash landing. A gap had been torn through the trees, the smell of sap and evergreen needles rich in the air. A large trench ran through the soft ground from where the ship had touched down.

  Seb then turned back and faced the slum and elevated city of Caloon. The Crimson Countess would regret ever coming to his attention.

  Aches sat in every muscle in Seb’s body and he dragged a deep breath in through his clenched teeth. But the pains would pass, and one way or another, the Countess would pay for everything she’d done.

  End of Book Two.

  Thank you for reading The First Mission - Book Two of The Shadow Order.

  The Crimson War - Book Three of The Shadow Order - is available HERE

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  About the Author

  Like most children born in the seventies, Michael grew up with Star Wars in his life. An obsessive watcher of the films, and an avid reader from an early age, he found himself taken over with stories whenever he let his mind wander.

  Those stories had to come out.

  He hopes you enjoy reading his books as much as he does writing them.

  Michael loves to travel when he can. He has a young family, who are his world, and when he’s not reading, he enjoys walking so he can dream up more stories.

  Contact

  www.michaelrobertson.co.uk

  subscribers@michaelrobertson.co.uk

  Also by Michael Robertson

  Masked - A Psychological Horror

  The Shadow Order

  The First Mission - Book Two of The Shadow Order

  The Crimson War - Book Three of The Shadow Order

  Eradication - Book Four of The Shadow Order

  Fugitive - Book Five of The Shadow Order

  Enigma - Book Six of The Shadow Order

  120-Seconds: A Shadow Order Story

  The Alpha Plague: A Post-Apocalyptic Action Thriller

  The Alpha Plague 2

  The Alpha Plague 3

  The Alpha Plague 4

  The Alpha Plague 5

  The Alpha Plague 6

  The Alpha Plague 7

  The Alpha Plague 8

  Crash - A Dark Post-Apocalyptic Tale

  Crash II: Highrise Hell

  Crash III: There’s No Place Like Home

  Crash IV: Run Free

  Crash V: The Final Showdown

  New Reality: Truth

  New Reality 2: Justice

  New Reality 3: Fear

 

 

 


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