Jason Frost - Warlord 05 - Terminal Island by Jason Frost - Warlord 05 Read Free Book Online Page B

snow flurry. If it weren’t for the faint buzz of the unseen planes above the Halo, it might seem as if some giant pillow in the sky had burst and these were the golden feathers spinning down to earth. The makings of fables, Eric thought. In the beginning, there were leaflets . . .
    D.B. put her glasses on and ran to catch one as it swayed back and forth in the air, tossed by wind currents. She ran back and forth under it, arms reaching up, too impatient to wait for it to touch the ground.
    Eric sat on the ground and waited. During the first months after the disaster, the U.S. government had dropped them once a week, then every month. Now they came sporadically, lumping together the news of the world during the past several months into half a page of brief updates. They always contained half a page of assurances at how hard the government was working to reverse the Long Beach Halo and rescue those still stranded on California. It also always contained bright red cautions about not trying to leave the island until they’ve completed their medical research on the effects. Anyone trying to pass through to the outside world, they warned, would be immediately terminated.
    At first, Eric had looked forward to the leaflets, rereading them over and over, looking for some sign of hope that the nightmare might soon be over. Order restored. But the encouraging words soon sounded hollow. The rhetoric about rescue, scientific research, the call for patience, faith, patriotism, all became just so much nonsense. Eric soon realized they weren’t ever going to do anything. The cost was too great to justify in Congress, the fear too great from the rest of the world. What kind of freaks would emerge to contaminate them?
    “Gotcha!” D.B. said, snatching a leaflet from the air. It was one sheet folded into thirds and stapled together. Like an advertisement for a new Chinese restaurant. She slid her thumbnail under the staple and pried it loose. She unfolded the sheet as carefully and with as much anticipation as if she’d just discovered an ancient treasure map. While she eagerly read, Eric watched the enthusiasm drain from her face and sag into disappointment. She crumpled the leaflet and threw it to the ground. Another one fluttered down near her and she slapped it away with her backhand.
    “Well?” Eric said.
    “It ain’t Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” she said bitterly. “More like Litter from the Sky with Diarrhea.”
    “Rescue imminent?”
    “Right. Any day now. Just have patience.”
    “And don’t leave the island.”
    “Or zap , you’re terminated.” She fingered her choke collar. “Think they’ll ever get us out of here? Or get rid of the Halo?”
    “Sure,” Eric said. “Any day now.”
    “I’m serious.” She looked at him, forehead scrunched together in concentration, bunching all her freckles into a swarm. “Will it ever be like it was?”
    “Yes,” Eric lied. “It will.”
    “I never know whether to believe you or not.”
    “Have I ever lied to you?”
    “I can’t tell.”
    He stood up. “Let’s get going. Another couple of hours and we’ll be in San Diego.”
    “Swell.” She kicked aside a couple of leaflets and walked beside him.
    They’d traveled mostly inland, avoiding the beach areas. Despite the tidal waves that had drowned the beach towns of Laguna, San Clemente, Oceanside, and all the others along the coast, crowds of people had returned to the beaches for the fishing. There were always crowds camped there, sleeping in their homemade boats, fighting off the pirates and scavengers.
    Instead they’d come out of the Cleveland National forest and hiked south near San Juan Capistrano.
    “Think the swallows will return here?” D.B. had asked as they’d walked by the outskirts of town.
    “Yeah,” Eric had replied. “Only the people here will be waiting for them with knives and forks.”
    They’d gone further inland, around Camp Pendleton, the old marine base. There was no telling who