ARES Virus: Arctic Storm Read Free Page A

and the real screaming begins.
     
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    With a blanket spread beneath him, Sergeant Brown sits on the expansive lawn of the school commons, relishing a little time in the sun with the smell of summer still in the air. Tearing his eyes away from his Kindle, he looks up from the book he’s reading. He’s six books into a series about night runners that he started on his last tour, and is appreciative of the time he has to himself. Looking over to the far side of the large commons, he catches sight of a young lad wheeling an aluminum cart, like those you may find in a library. Brown notes where the young man’s attention is focused, and smiles.
    Oh, to be young again .
    Feeling relaxed, he’s content to merely watch the lad follow the young woman. Only part of his mind is actually watching the two, the rest is absorbing the day. Brown’s attention perks up as he notices an upcoming collision—one of the shirtless students is madly streaking to catch an overthrown football, his attention on the ball and not on where he’s going.
    This is going to be quite a surprise for both of them , Brown thinks, a warning from him virtually useless at this distance.
    The two collide, one going at full speed, the other practically standing still.
    “Oooh! That’s going to leave a mark,” he cringes, seeing the two bodies go down in a flurry of limbs.
    The metallic sound of the cart tipping over and hitting the concrete pathway drifts across the commons. Sergeant Brown sees both of them stand, and continues watching to make sure that everyone is all right. The lad brushes himself off, uprights the cart, and studies the package he was carrying. Shaking his head, the boy replaces the package, turns around, and begins retracing his route.
    That package could have contained the lad’s science project—something he had been working on all term and was on his way to deliver for a grade. Brown thinks how that boy’s day may be ruined by that one moment in time, one that he never saw coming. A collision not of his making, turning what promised to be a fine day into a disastrous one. He’s had the same thoughts when he’s observed people along the side of highways following a collision, how their day and perhaps the next couple of weeks were ruined just because of a singular moment in time. How they looked forward to getting home and putting their feet up at the end of a long day and now are stranded on the side of the road with their vehicles in need of repair.
    The excitement over, Brown returns to his Kindle. The day is warm and damn near perfect—one of those days to be spent reading and then napping under the sun. Having spent the last several years stationed overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan, he’s long past the point of being sunburned. Much of the contentment he feels is because of this assignment with the ROTC program, his last post before retirement. Yeah, he’d take this assignment any time. There’s only paper to push—no sand to clean out of every orifice just to find more immediately taking its place. Under his short-sleeved army shirt, sweat trickles down his side and he feels the rigid weight of the ribbons pinned to his chest.
    The weight of years in the army , he thinks, swiping to a new page and losing himself again in the book.
    Brown periodically looks up while reading and scans the area, a force of habit. During one such moment, a short time after the incident, Brown notes one of the footballers drop to the grass. One moment he’s standing around, chatting with his buddies; the next, he slumps to the ground. Sergeant Brown wouldn’t have given it a second thought, except for the way the guy fell so suddenly. Brown has witnessed many guys go down from the heat in the desert, and this guy fell in a similar way.
    Placing his Kindle on the blanket, Brown rises to go help. Two steps toward the boy, he sees the same thing happen to several others within the commons; they