Free Afterburn: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Next Book 1) by Scott Nicholson Page B

they had to hide it, however unsuccessfully, from the rest of the troops.
    He finally let the binoculars drop to his chest and turned to her. “What, you want us to get married or something? Maybe after Corporal Downey finishes his eulogy for Hollister, he can consecrate us.”
    Her green eyes flashed defiance. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”
    Yes I do.
    “This is no time to be planning a future,” he said, looking back at the activity around camp to make sure no one was obvious about watching them. “Minute by minute is the best we can do right now.”
    “Damn it, Mark, why do think we’re out here? What you even think we’re fighting for?”
    She was so goddamned cute, her green camo cap even complemented her shimmering red hair. Colleen wasn’t military in the old world, but she’d been part of one of the early rescue missions and was among the many persuaded to volunteer. These recruits had only a fraction of the training that a pre-apocalypse enlistee underwent, but bodies were bodies. Well, her body was a bit more exceptional than most.
    “We’re fighting to regain territory ceded to the enemy,” Antonelli said. “That’s the end result of tactical moves such as the one we’re currently undertaking. You don’t take Atlanta without going through Vicksburg.”
    “Sure, go for your precious military babble to keep from having to say anything real,” she said.
    Antonelli grabbed her sleeve and pulled her behind a jagged boulder. He put his face close to hers and said, “How real can you take it?”
    “Whatever you got,” she said, lifting her mouth as his descended. The kiss was brief but fiery, all their frustration and lust and fear sharing delicate nerve endings. Antonelli forced himself to break away far sooner than he wanted to.
    “We need to check out the bunker and find that kid if he’s down there,” Antonelli said. “Then we’ll wait for our next orders, but I’m feeling the big push is coming soon.”
    She grinned and crinkled her freckled cheeks, her anger forgotten as she playfully bumped against him. “Good. I could use a big push.”
    “You know what I hate?” he said.
    “That crappy yellow salt powder in the mac-and-cheese pouch?”
    “I hate when we’re on duty—especially in battle like last night—and I have to treat you like everybody else.”
    “Just one of the guys,” Colleen said.
    “But that means I might be put in a position to sacrifice you for the good of the unit,” he said, refusing to let any emotion creep into his voice.
    “Like you always say, ‘Do your job.’”
    She turned away as if tired of their military life. She looked out across the expanse of valley and the ridges that rolled like endless ocean waves whose surface was painted by the autumnal camouflage of ocher, red, and brown. “So beautiful,” she said.
    “Yes, you are.” He was just a sentimental old fool, unfit for command. At forty-five, he was old enough to despise weakness in others but not in himself.
    “This is still our world. As long as one of us remains, it’s ours.”
    “We’ll get it all back someday,” Mark said. “Or die trying.”
    “And we’ll get married then?”
    “Sure. In the biggest church in the biggest city we can find. But until then, don’t go getting killed on me.”
    She flashed her small, white teeth. “Is that an order?”
    “Yes, Private. Now back to camp before anyone reports you AWOL.”
    Antonelli watched her go, imagining her nude body lurking beneath that bulky combat uniform. Then he cursed himself. His sentimentality was dangerous, not just for the both of them but for the entire unit. But he couldn’t help it. If he wasn’t allowed to be human, then what was the whole point of this mission?
    He took a meandering path back to camp so no one would see him arrive from the same direction as Colleen. Below him, the parkway wound along the slopes like a dark gray river. The 469-mile road had been built to transport tanks and