Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147 Stingy dreamweavers

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Briggs sat back, tris icy composure sliding right back into place as if nothing had happened. He picked up his fork again, his tone instantly shifting back to dead business. “Now, tell me about Galen. How long has he been feeding Jax information?”

Joanna pulled back instantly, her face burning with an internal blush that she desperately tried to kill. Horrified that a simple thumb-swipe had completely derailed her tactical mindset, she masked her embarrassment by snapping into a grouchy, defensive tone.

“Can’t you figure anything out on your own?” she grumbled, crossing her arms tightly. “Look, all I know is he joined your unit a few days ago, so it probably happened then. He’s Jax’s cleanup man. He’s here to cut our extraction lines when we hit the Eldon bottleneck.”

Briggs shook his head, a genuine look of respect flashing across his features. She really did know a lot. Her network of information was flawless, and it made her a deadlier asset than he had originally calculated.

Before he could respond, the heavy glass door of the gas station creaked open. Rachel, Julian, and Kailee emerged from their bathroom break, immediately walking back to the picnic table. Without a word, the group efficiently moved to clean up the mess, sealing the leftover stasis containers and packing the crate back into the van.

Briggs stood up, adjusting his dark utility jacket. He looked at the group, his icy demeanor softening just a fraction. “Thank you for the food. It’s the first real meal my stomach has seen in days.”

With a tight nod to Joanna, he turned and walked toward the lead vehicle, pulling Will aside into the shadows to speak to him in a quiet, urgent tone.

Joanna turned to her team, her authoritative command tone clicking right back into place to erase the lingering embarrassment. “Julian, you drive the van for this next leg. Kailee, take these zombie cores.” She reached into her tactical vest, pulling out a handful of the glowing, pulsing crystals and pressing them into Kailee’s hands. “I’m not sure if you can break level two yet, but absorb them while we move.”

They turned to climb into the van when the heavy crunch of gravel signaled Will’s return. The young soldier walked over quickly, his face a mix of nervousness and excitement.

“Joanna,” Will said, clearing his throat. “The Commander would like to invite you to ride in the front vehicle of the convoy. He needs to speak with you about the operational layout ahead.”

Joanna nodded in smooth agreement, her fingers briefly tracing the hilt of the sword at her waist. “Understood. Julian, keep the van locked to their tailgate. If anything goes sideways, you know what to do.”

Joanna walked back to the van to grab her tactical pack, her mind racing with the logistics of the shift. As her fingers wrapped around the heavy canvas strap of her bag, a sudden jolt of memory locked her boots to the asphalt. Caleb’s note. In the chaotic aftermath of the raider ambush and Briggs’s dramatic arrival, she hadn’t actually stopped to read the physical paper hidden away inside her gear.

Stepping into the deep, defensive shadow of the van’s tinted windows, she reached deep into her vest pocket, pulled out the tightly folded square, and smoothed it across her knee.

Written in neat, perfectly precise ink, the note read:

Go with Briggs on detour. Save the metal box from room 315.

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Chapter 147 Stingy dreamweavers

Finished

Joanna stared at the words, her eyebrows knitting together in sheer disbelief. What the? she thought, a surge profound irritation washing over her tactical mind. Room 315? In what building? In what sector of this massive, burning grave of a city? Caleb couldn’t possibly be any more specific?

Irritated, she slammed the van’s rear door shut, shoved the paper securely back into her vest pocket, and hoisted her heavy bag. She marched back toward the front of the convoy, her boots striking the asphalt with sharp, angry thuds.

“Stingy dreamweavers,” Joanna muttered under her breath, completely lost in her own annoyance. “Always speaking in riddles. No information given, just random room numbers. Useless.”

Will, who was holding the heavy steel door of the lead armored vehicle open for her, caught the tail end of her quiet, frustrated tirade. A sudden, amused grin split across his young face.

Beside him in the dim, green-lit cab of the truck, Commander Briggs leaned back against the leather seat, his broad frame relaxed against the metal framing. Seeing her furious approach and hearing her disgruntled grumbling about cryptic messages made him smile a little, the icy mask of the career officer softening for just a fraction of a second.

“Trouble with the team, Joanna?” Briggs murmured, his low baritone vibrating through the metal cabin as she climbed inside.

“Don’t start, Commander,” Joanna snapped, pulling her pack onto her lap and slamming the heavy armored door behind her.

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