Orbital Decay by A. G. Claymore Read Free Book Online Page A

have become no-fly zones since I left here a few hours ago? My notification panel is crammed full of advisories.”  
    He shook his head. “The only way to stop this would have been to nuke Chicago the minute it became clear that one of your staff was running loose down here. You really think anyone would have pulled the trigger on that idea?”
    Ben’s skin crawled. “The Bureau’s been running with a terrorist story for the last few days. Could’ve been set up as a straw man if they decided to use a nuke.”
    “It’s a safe bet our government’s failed us,” the co-pilot added. “Which brings me back to you.” He turned to Ben. “I’ve got a nice shiny aircraft and no place to fly it. I got a feeling you have some kind of plan beyond getting your family out of Chicago.”
    All eyes were on Ben again. He sighed, looking down. “It’s a long shot, but I learned about a place, back when I was working in intercepts for the NSA.” He waved a hand. “We can talk about it when I get back. My family’s in there,” he said, nodding toward the highway, “and I need to get to them before it’s too late.” If it’s not too late,  he didn’t say aloud.
    “Like I said, you’ve got a plan.” The man in black held out his hand. “If you’re willing to let the past be the past, then I’d like to come help you bring your family out. My ID might help if we run into a patrol.” He shrugged. “Then again, they might shoot first and ask questions later. Anyway, you’re the only one with any idea of what to do next, and we need to keep you safe.”
    Ben tilted his head to the side as he thought it through. Am I really taking a chance on this guy, if he’s the only chance we have of getting out of here? I probably need him more than he needs me. He extended a hand. “Ben Marks.”
    “Abe Peters.”
    Dwight went back into the aircraft, taking a syringe and vial from the cooler. “Abe, if you’re going into an infected area, we’d better give you a shot.” He waved the needle with a theatrical leer.
    “What’s in that?” Abe took an involuntary step backwards.
    “Same stuff that caused this plague in the first place,” Ben answered with a grin. “It has a one-in-a-hundred chance of mutating and making you into another plague monkey.”  He watched the flyer, gauging his reaction. No panic, that’s good, at least. “Of course, if you don’t get a shot, you will turn eventually. Also, there’s a side effect that you can’t avoid.”
    “And that is?”
    “You live for at least a thousand years.”
    “No shit?”
    “Not even a faint odor of it.”
    “Huh!” Abe looked around the group, seeing that nobody was laughing. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Well, when you pile it all on the scales, it looks like taking the shot is my only real chance. Let’s do it.”
    “Yeah, and you’ll ride in the front seat of the canoe,” Ben stated as he watched the needle slide into Abe’s arm.
    “Fair enough,” Abe replied mildly. “I’d be useless in the back seat. Never could master a J-stroke.”
    “Uh, yeah,” Ben nodded as the one-in-a-hundred chance slid back out of the man’s arm. “That’s what I was thinking…”

Chicago
    Thorn Creek
     
    L eaves fell all around them as they paddled, forming a mottled skin on the slow-moving surface. Ben looked down at the G-19 leaning against the stern thwart. When he’d done his basic training in the Army, he had used the latest descendent of the M-16.
    This weapon was completely different. For starters, it had no brass cartridges. The rounds weren’t even round anymore. The magazines, one along the top of the barrel and a second below it, each held seventy rectangular, caseless cartridges half the length of the military rounds he was accustomed to.
    There was no charging handle to pull on either, just a cocking knob that you turned to put a round in the chamber. After the first magazine was emptied, you simply rotated the knob the other