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CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Tanggal publikasi:
2026-09-29 23:12:01
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DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 65: Getting Rid Of One, Hosting the Other
The air in the seventeenth-floor hallway was stale, smelling of cold soot and damp wool.Betony was carrying an empty zinc water bucket back toward the service stairwell when the door to Apartment 17B unlatched. Susan stepped out into the corridor. Her eyes were bloodshot, her dark hair tangled in matted clumps against her forehead, her wool cardigan stretched loose at the elbows.She stopped dead when she saw Betony.Betony didn't alter her pace. She held the heavy zinc handle with two fingers, her face smooth, unbothered, as if she were stepping past a sack of spoiled flour left in the passage."You think you won, don't you?" Susan’s voice was dry, cracking on the consonants. She stepped sideways, blocking the narrow concrete walkway between the handrail and the wall. "You think because he locked the bolt on me, you get to keep him."Betony halted three paces away. She set the zinc bucket down on the cold floorboards. The met
DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 64: Major Selman
The frost on the iron barrels didn't melt when the heavy machine guns fired; it turned to fine grey dust that blew back into the men's faces.Four hundred feet below the timber line, in the shadow of a sheer granite cliff known as the Devil’s Notch, twenty-two men in white canvas smocks hauled wooden crates of sixty-millimeter mortar shells up a forty-degree icefall. Their boots were wrapped in wire for traction. Every breath they dragged into their lungs came out as a thick, white plume that froze instantly into ice crystals against the collars of their heavy parkas.One young corporal slipped on the blue ice. His knees hit the frozen shale with a sound like dry firewood snapping, the wooden crate slipping from his numb fingers and sliding forty yards down the slope into the dark ravine below.A heavy leather boot slammed down on the boy’s collarbone before he could push himself off the ice.Major Marcus Selman stood over him. At fifty-
DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 63: Dear Betony
The comms handset in Apartment 17B dropped from Susan’s fingers, swinging on its coiled black cord against the plaster wall.Zaid took the stairs five at a time. He didn't wait for the cage elevator on thirty. He didn't put on his fleece vest or grab his sidearm. He ran down the unheated concrete stairwell in his wool shirt and trousers, his heavy boots making a rhythm like thunder against the steps.When he slammed through the timber door of 17B, the air in the narrow living room smelled sweet and heavy, thick with the scent of boiled lard and warm corn meal.Toby was sitting on the carpet by the low table. His small hands were pulled up to his throat, his face dark red, his lips already taking on a faint, terrifying shade of blue. Each breath came out as a thin, wet whistle, his chest heaving against his cotton shirt as his lungs starved for air."Zaid!" Susan wept, dropping to her knees beside the boy, her hands shaking violently as she hovered over him.
DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
The icy wind tore through the door frame the moment the heavy latch dropped outside.Eleanor didn't stay on the floor. She couldn't afford to. Pain was a luxury for people who had somewhere warm to lie down, and the floorboards of the road supervisor’s shack were already pulling the remaining heat out of her ribs.She gritted her teeth, a dark, guttural growl dragging out of her chest as she rolled onto her knees. The broken ankle pulsed—a thick, sickening throb that sent white sparks across her vision. She reached out, her numb fingers clawing at the pine leg of the overturned table, dragging her torso up inch by inch until she was standing on her right heel.Beside the dead iron stove sat a broken spruce broom handle. She grabbed it, jammed it under her left armpit, and lunged toward the heavy timber door.She threw her body weight against the wood. The iron latch yielded with a loud, rusty crack, and the door swung wide into the storm."Saskia!" Eleanor shrieked into the blizzard.
DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 61: Second Chance Wasted
The secondary service duct behind the twentieth-floor radio alcove was narrow, cramped, and lined with rotting fiberglass insulation.Betony stood in the dark, her cheek pressed near the rusted iron grate. Below her, in the narrow concrete landing where the upper stairwell met the armory corridor, two sets of boots rested flat on the floorboards."The angle doesn't make sense, Captain," Miller’s voice rattled up through the vent, low and dry. "I checked the entry hole before we hauled him to the chute. It wasn't a stray round from the doorway. Someone pressed the muzzle straight against his ribs and pulled the trigger."A long silence stretched through the vent. Betony heard the slow, heavy scrape of Zaid’s leather vest against the wall."Susan was hyperventilating," Zaid said, his tone flat, heavy with hesitation. "She saw a man bleeding out on her doorstep. She's twisting what she saw.""She said your girl walked down the stairs, picked up the gun, and executed him," Miller pressed,
DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE CHAPTER 60: THE SHIFTING GRAVITY
The memory didn't come with soft edges. It hit like cold iron against raw bone.Fifteen years old. The rain wasn't falling in drops; it came down in grey, heavy sheets that turned the gravel path outside the house into slush."Where is it?" Eleanor’s hand didn't strike with a open palm. She used the back of her wrist, heavy with two brass rings her husband had bought her before his heart gave out in the lower quarry. The metal caught Betony across the cheekbone, snapping her head back against the kitchen doorframe. "Fifty dollars out of the coat pocket. Don't lie to me, you little leech!"Betony’s shoulder hit the wood. The skin beneath her left eye was already split, hot blood trickling down into the corner of her lip, tasting of salt and iron."I didn't take it," fifteen-year-old Betony rasped, her hands pulled up to her chest, her thin cotton blouse soaked through with sweat and spilled water. "It was empty when you came home from the tavern. I didn't to
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