All The Beautiful People (A Dread Novel Book 1) by Jonathan Yanez Page A

witnessed the devastation that was rapidly consuming the world. At first it looked like nothing had changed. The sun was bright and cheerful, arguing against the dire hour. As the three trucks rolled forward through the open garage door and travelled through Lazarus’ secured premises, all was quiet.
    The square box Taylor rode in wasn’t quite tall enough for her to stand but with a slight bend to her back she could stand near the back doors and survey the landscape.
    As they rolled through Lazarus’ expansive estate, the view was promising. The guards were controlling the steady stream of cars to and from the location. The chain-link fences topped with razor wire were in place, and guards patrolled the perimeter.
    The convoy was waved through the gates without question. It wasn’t until they reached the first main boulevard that things began to change. The roads were congested with more traffic than should be reasonable for that time of day. The street was a sea of vehicles all eager to get somewhere or away from something. Horns honked and angry yells of panic were exchanged between vehicle operators.
    On the horizon, Taylor saw half a dozen different plumes of dark smoke rising to the heavens. Each with their own story to tell, stories that she would never know, nonetheless tragic. Helicopters passed over the road at varying intervals sporting different news station emblems, law enforcement logos, and fire and rescue departments.
    After a few minutes of the same scene Taylor resumed her seat. Their truck was moving at a painful stop-and-go pace, one that Taylor was sure she could outwalk. Frank was engrossed in his laptop, another energy drink somehow miraculously appearing in his left hand. The captain was on his radio again discussing their travel route with someone on the other line.
    “If time is the most valuable thing we have, then we need to find another way. Getting through this mess will take hours.” There was a long pause while the captain listened. Then he said, “Understood.”
    He clicked the radio tuner on his vest. “Archangel Two to Archangel One and Three. We have the go-ahead to travel on the shoulders of the road and through whatever private property we need to in order to reach our objective. The local authorities are being warned. Avoid civilian casualties but let’s get there with all due haste, ladies and gentlemen.”
    The captain’s orders were obeyed immediately. No sooner had he relayed the orders than Taylor felt a transition in the armored truck. The driver maneuvered them to the shoulder of the road and hit the gas.
    “How are we looking, Mr. Caster?” Captain Martin asked Frank.
    Not used to being called by his last name, it took Frank a moment to comprehend the question. “Oh, sorry. Not good. The local authorities are being overwhelmed with the number of calls coming through. The National Guard and Army have been called in. Civilians are being ordered to stay inside but as you can guess, only about half are listening. The traffic we’re stuck in is just the beginning. It’s the first wave of people who know something is seriously wrong. It’s only going to get worse from here. I’m surprised the roads aren’t completely clogged already.”
    The captain nodded, unfazed by Frank’s report. “And you, Miss Hart? What is your assessment of the situation?”
    Taylor met the captain’s gaze head-on. “It’s not getting there that I’m worried about,” she said. “It’s getting back.”
    The captain raised an eyebrow. “Sound wisdom. For everyone’s sake, let’s hope you are worrying for nothing.”
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 18
     
     
    The rest of their journey was bumpy with sporadic jukes and weaves that reminded Taylor of moves an NFL running back would use. The convoy drivers were skilled at their craft and maneuvered around the traffic like pros. The only thing that bothered Taylor about their aggressive tactics on the road were the civilian