Free Affliction Z: Abandoned Hope (Post Apocalyptic Thriller) by L.T. Ryan Page A

move in a year, unless their
position became compromised.
    He pulled up a cursor prompt and began typing. “How’re
things there, Tim?”
    A few moments later, Tim replied. “Wouldn’t know the world
was in chaos from where I’m sitting.”
    “You secure your boats?”
    “They’re up on land and inside concrete bunkers.”
    “Did you manage to get a plane?”
    “Ten-four,” Tim replied.
    “Let’s hope you never have to use it. It’s gonna be a bitch
up there soon.”
    “Not so much up there, but trying to figure out where to
land and refuel.”
    “I know. I don’t want you to put yourself in that situation
unless we’re sure you can get gas.” Turk paused for a moment to check the
camera feeds. “Anyway, we’ve discussed this a dozen times. I just wanted to
check in on you and make sure all was okay there. Did you manage to get the
kids and their families to the island?”
    “All but one.”
    “Sorry to hear that.”
    “He’s on a boat, and we’ve been in touch. He should be here
in a week at the latest.”
    As long as he doesn’t have to go to shore . Turk ended
the conversation by telling Tim to stay logged on and to check in every six
hours by posting a message. If only he could get more people to do the same.
They were all in for a lonely few weeks, or months. For some, the server might
be the only contact they’d have. But for how long? Those that didn’t have a
means of satellite communication would be cut off at some point.
    When would that be?
    Turk pulled up the AP news site and scanned the latest
articles. He figured in a few days the updates would stop. Reporters would
either get sick and die, or get sick and mutate. Maybe one or two would survive
the initial virus, but then what? If they had no support network in place, they
were as good as dead, like most anyone who survived this thing.
    One report caught his eye. Cities had begun establishing
shelters for people to gather. A recipe for disaster in Turk’s opinion. Someone
who took longer to show symptoms would make their way inside the shelter,
infecting countless others. Some would die. Some would turn. They would kill
anyone left. And what about those turned beings wandering the street? How long
until they smelled the stink of the living and found their way to the source?
    He minimized the browser and adjusted all six monitors back
to their original configuration. He saw his brother enter the living and
recreation area. Marcus walked through the room as if he owned the place. Had
it been a mistake to welcome him into the compound? Turk hadn’t thought so
until the incident with the police officer. He knew there would be some
immaturity to deal with. He hoped that watching the world fall apart would be
enough to force Marcus to grow up and take things seriously. Apparently not. He
had to keep his brother on a short leash. If things boiled over too far, and
someone had to go, Turk had to be prepared to make his brother be that someone
if he deserved it.
    Marcus walked into the kitchen. Turk’s gaze shifted to the
next monitor. He saw his little girl cringe, get off her stool and move to the
other side of her mother. Turk leaned forward and adjusted the volume for that
display. Nothing happened, though. He didn’t need sound to know that Marcus had
offended Turk’s wife. The woman dropped her mixer and aimed a loaded finger in
the man’s direction.
    Turk cut the displays and left his room. He let the door
fall shut, then engaged the security lock. He walked down the long, dimly lit
hallway, and then cut through a passage that only he knew about. The secret
hall led to the pantry, which, when he emerged from it, placed him directly
behind his brother.
    “What are you doing, Marcus?” Turk said.
    Marcus spun around. His eyes and mouth were open wide.
Behind him, Turk’s wife Elana smiled. Layla stepped out from behind her mother.
Tear tracks stained her cheeks.
    Turk held out his hand and gestured for Layla to go back to
her