Buku Grim Reaper by Steve Alten
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Grim Reaper by Steve Alten

Author:Steve Alten

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: war, revelation, 2012, boston red sox, manhattan, 666, grim reaper, divine comedy, black plague, dantes inferno

Publisher: Variance Publishing

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Grim Reaper by Steve Alten

Fort TrYon Park

Inwood, Manhattan

8:22 p.m.

 

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Literature & Fiction

Grim Reaper by Steve Alten

Author:Steve Alten , Date: June 7, 2019

,Views: 27

Author:Steve Alten

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: war, revelation, 2012, boston red sox, manhattan, 666, grim reaper, divine comedy, black plague, dantes inferno

Publisher: Variance Publishing
Fort TrYon Park

Inwood, Manhattan

8:22 p.m.

They had moved with purpose through the forest, Virgil using the tree trunks as cover against the soldier’s night-vision glasses. Descending along paths unseen, the rocky elevation had dropped precariously, sending Shep tripping over knotted roots camouflaged by leaves and the heavily forested darkness.

In due time they had left the helicopters’ searchlights behind and eventually the thunder of the choppers’ blades. Emerging from the woods, Virgil led them to a clearing harboring a children’s playground.

Shep coughed, the cold affecting his lungs. “Where are we?”

“Fort Tryon Park. What happened to your arm?”

“My arm?” Patrick inspected the damaged left appendage under the light of a park lamppost. From the elbow joint down, the prosthetic device had been stripped of its fake flesh. The pincers were gone, too, the distal end of the sharp metal forearm now bent into a sickle-shaped curve.

“Must’ve done that when I yanked it loose from beneath the console.” Shep raised the deformed device, then cut downward, the sharp edge of the mangled appendage whistling through the crisp night air as if it were a blade. “Cuts like a scythe. Bet it would make a nasty weapon.”

“Just the same, you’d better remove it before you slice open your own leg.”

Shep reached beneath his sweater and attempted to unbuckle the harness. “It’s jammed. And the sensors below my deltoid . . . they must have fused together. I can’t budge it.”

“Patrick, that wooden box . . . you said it contains a vaccine?”

“That’s what Leigh . . . what Dr. Nelson said. The bastards shot her as I took off in the chopper. They came after me, too. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“The night’s still young. Open the case. Let’s see what’s inside.”

Shep sat down on a park bench, placing the polished box on his lap. Releasing the two front clasps, he opened the lid. There were eleven vials of clear liquid secured inside the case, the twelfth foam compartment empty.

Virgil read a typed note that had been folded and tucked inside one of the styrofoam edges. “Warning: This antibiotic contains a powerful neurotransmitter that crosses the brain-blood barrier. May cause hallucinogenic effects. Anger and reactive behavior exacerbate symptoms. Keep patient calm. Do not leave unsupervised for the first six to twelve hours.”

“Nelson wanted me to deliver this to the Center for Disease Control in New Jersey. I guess that’s no longer an option.”

“Patrick, people are dying in the streets by the tens of thousands.”

“What should we do?”

“We? You’re playing God on this one, not me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you hold the power of life in your hand, and that, my friend, makes you God. So, Lord Patrick, who shall live this evening, and who shall die?”

“DeBorn . . . I forgot about him! Virgil, I have to find my family, they’re in terrible danger.”

“Patrick—”

“DeBorn tried to kill me, now he’ll go after my family. I have to get to Battery Park before—”

“Patrick, I spoke with your soul mate.”

The blood rushed from Shep’s face. “You spoke with Bea? How? When?”

“This afternoon.

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