THE WORLD IS DYING.
Global warming, lack of resources, and the collapse of authority across all seven continents has caused worldwide strife. People are willing to do anything to survive.
The solution? Project ERAA, humanity's last effort to...
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IT TOOK every single molecule of Lale's being to keep from throwing Ichabod away from him. The anger that had exploded before he could even think about stopping it had spiraled upwards into a tornado of fear.
Despite the fact that Lale was tightening his hands around Ichabod's neck, the marine realized with a sinking feeling in his gut, he had never felt so out of control in his life — not even on the battlefield, when every moment counted. Lale felt a bead of sweat tremble down his neck.
"Look around you, Lale," Ichabod's words were a shout as Lale pushed him away, flexing his hands and staring at the ground.
Coward, a voice in his mind whispered. You had your moment of vengeance. What did you give it up for? Her?
In his peripheral vision, Lale could see Amelia staring at him, her eyes seeming glossy. Tina was at her side, but she was glaring at Ichabod. Killing Ichabod in front of her ... In front of all of them ... Ichabod's threat lilted through his mind.
You really can't afford to.
Lale's stomach was stirring in his gut. Ichabod was too loud to ignore, putting on a show full of extended arms, like he was a man of the people he would kill in a heartbeat if he could.
"Your brave fellow rebels ... These men and women who have decided to follow you instead of me," Ichabod's voice was filled with quiet venom that seethed through Lale's veins. He straightened and stared a hole into the traitor's skull as he turned a full 180, surveying all of the rebels.
"They're dying, Lale." Ichabod stopped and met his eyes. Lale dug his toes into the bottom of his shoes to keep himself anchored against the truth in the Brit's words.
Amelia. His throat dried up. Tina.
"Surely, you'd wanna save them at any cost, right?" Ichabod tilted his head back to the way he had come. "I have medical supplies at my camp. Antibiotics that some of you," in a move so subtle Lale barely noticed but locked on immediately, Ichabod's eyes flitted to Amelia, "need."
There was a pause. Even the birds and bugs and whatever other hellish beasts from the Jurassic had quieted. He knows, was all Lale could think, desperately. He knows Amelia's sick. He knows we're all starving — all tired.
But how?
"Well, Lale?" Lale's eye's whisked up to Ichabod's own. The other man had extended a hand, like it was a friendly handshake instead of a deal that could save or doom lives. "What do you say? I can offer you protection and food. I can save the lives of your little rebels." Lale spied a small smirk growing on Ichabod's face. "Just stop your little protests, and accept that you have lost. The world will thank you for it."
"Or the world will die because of it," someone spat. Lale twisted on his heels, and saw the spite on Amelia's face. The blood in his own drained as he twisted back to Ichabod, his mind buzzing with too many thoughts to come up with a reasonable response.
