An excerpt from my new novel

The gunshots echoed over the hilly terrain.
The Chimichanga resistance cell scrambled to the main entrance now, in search of a bundle of air-ducts they had seen on the diagram provided by their partner the custodian, who was accidentally dead by then and wouldn’t get to hear about the destruction. He didn’t know that Jesus and his team were going to detonate a nuclear warhead inside, thought instead they were just going to grab the expensive Fruit Company crates and haul ass, though it wouldn’t have come as a shock to him if he had been alive.
Here’s why no one would bat an eye about some poor middle classed maniac owning a nuclear warhead: They were practically everywhere. They were so easy to get because of a popular nonsensical advertising campaign that solidified the popular belief that nuclear weapons were absolutely necessary and somewhat harmless. This was the slogan they used which had gained so much traction: Nuclear warheads don’t kill people, people kill people.
It was a scream.

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