30
Shane followed James’s shouts, which led him through the living room to the sliding glass door. A dead biker lay beside the dining room table, blood pooling around his head. There was no sign of Jodi, but he scarcely had a moment to think about that. Gang members had come out of the weedy field, and they were currently trying to climb over the fence, using their leather jackets to protect them from the row of spikes on top.
“These guys don’t give up,” James shouted, firing the Glock at them.
“How many more are there?” Shane asked.
He leaned against the doorframe, taking aim with the AR-15.
“No idea,” James replied.
“Do you know where Jodi went?”
“She was escorting Libby and Amelia to the bathroom,” James said. “Some guy got in through the front door. When I took care of him, these guys started popping up like spiders from under a rock.”
A bullet hit the sliding glass door not six inches from the former sheriff’s head, creating a spiderweb of cracks. Shane saw the one who had fired. He was poised on top of the fence. Shane took careful aim with the rifle and fired. The man grabbed his face and fell backward, disappearing behind the fence.
Angry at almost being hit, James unloaded the rest of his magazine, unleashing a quick burst of shots from the Glock, as he shouted at the top of the lungs. Shane joined him, letting the full measure of anger fuel him as he fired again and again, the AR-15 giving off a furious heat. He heard bullet casings pinging off the doorframe. By the time he finished, the fence was clear. Shane held his breath, waiting, but no more gang members appeared.
Out of breath, Shane lowered the gun. They had done extensive damage to a section of the wooden fence, breaking and shattering boards until they had a clear view of the field beyond. Nothing seemed to be moving in the tall weeds.
“Well, Corbin told me not to hold back,” Shane said, “and I didn’t. I hate to admit it, but I kind of enjoyed that.”
As soon as he stopped talking, he realized how quiet it was. No shouting, no guns, no one moving outside—only a soft crackle of fire and a sigh of night air moving through the house. Shane and James remained at the open door for a couple of minutes, waiting for some sign that there was still danger. Finally, a distant voice began to call.
“Hey! Hey, you! Hey, McDonald family!”
He recognized the voice, but it took him a moment to place it. He glanced at James, but the former sheriff shrugged.
“Isn’t it that woman…Claire, I believe was her name,” Shane said. “She went with Owen to collect medical supplies. She had kind of a strange voice.”
“McDonald family,” she called again. “You’re in the clear. Hey, you’re safe now!”
Was there any chance she was tricking them? Shane stepped through the back door and followed her voice to the side of the house, rifle held at the ready. James followed him.
“You can come out now,” Claire shouted.
They walked around the side yard. When Shane came to the front yard, he saw her standing in the broken gateway, a tall, skinny woman with gray hair. A group of townsfolk was gathered behind her, and as he drew near, he realized they were all armed. Claire finally spotted him and beckoned with both hands.
“Come and see,” she said. “We heard the shooting and got here as quick as we could. Come and see, Mr. McDonald.”
He rushed to the broken gate, and Claire stepped aside to let him pass. On the ground in front of the eight or nine locals, the bodies of bikers had been lined up—eight of them in a row. Two more gang members were on their knees, hands clasped on top of their heads.
“We shot a few who were trying to run away,” Claire said.
Shane dared to lower the rifle then, taking a deep breath. “Thanks.”
“No problem. We’ve got folks going through the neighborhood right now to make sure we round up any others,” she said. “We’ll keep an eye on these two if you want to check on your family.”
Shane nodded and pushed past James, heading toward the house. The first one he found was Corbin. The young man was sprawled on the floor in the foyer.
“Oh, no,” Shane said, rushing to his side. He bent over him and heard him breathing. Still alive, if barely. He patted Corbin’s face, and the young man groaned. “Hang in there, kid. We’ll get you some help as soon as we can.”
James had followed him, and Shane motioned him down the hall. As the former sheriff headed for the bedrooms, Shane went to the basement. He made his way down the steps into utter darkness, fumbling at the carpet in the corner until he found the latch for the hidden door. When he opened the subbasement, he heard Kaylee crying and Violet whimpering in fear.
“Girls, it’s your dad,” he said. “We’re all safe now. The bad guys are dead.”
Kaylee and Violet rushed up the steps, Bauer and Ruby on their heels. Shane hugged his daughters tightly, as they wept against his shoulders.
“It’s okay,” he said, comforting them. “We won.”
But even as he said it, he heard James shouting his name from upstairs. He could tell by the intensity, by the strain, that James was distraught. Not wanting to scare his daughters, he gently disentangled himself from their embrace and made his way upstairs. On the way, he saw the rather hideous remains of Trent. The gang leader was sitting with his back against a guest room door, as if he’d just plopped down to take a brief rest. There wasn’t much left of his face.
Shane hopped over his legs to get into the master bedroom, where he found everyone crowded around the bed. Owen and Amelia were holding each other in the corner. Mike and Jodi were standing at the foot of the bed, and James was bent over someone who was lying on top of the blankets. The crowd parted at his entrance, Jodi rushing to hug him. Now, he saw that it was Beth on the bed, ashen-faced and glassy-eyed.
“Oh, no,” he said. “Is she…?”
“She’s alive,” Jodi said, burying her face against his neck. “For now.”
“We need the doctor,” James said. “Shane, can you run and get him? Please! Please!” Then he bent close to Beth and said, “Listen to me, sweet lady. You have to promise me you’re going to hang in there, okay? Do I have to bribe you? I’ll bribe you. We’ll take a trip. Anywhere you want to go, as long as you fight this. Got it? We’ll take a horse and buggy to the coast, find some little seaside resort, stay for a month. How does that sound?”
As Shane made his way outside, he heard James continue to plead with her, trying to bribe her to live with anything he could think of. By the time Shane stepped outside, James had promised her the whole world twice over.
Dr. Yates finally convinced James to leave the bedroom, which was the only thing that put an end to his constant pleading and bribery. Between Corbin and Beth, Shane didn’t know which one was in worse shape. Corbin was currently lying on the couch under heavy sedation. As Shane and James stepped outside to let the doctor do his work to the injured, they saw a small crowd of townsfolk still gathered in the street beyond the fence. The dead gang members had been dragged away somewhere, but the two captives knelt on the ground. Claire was pacing behind them, as if debating with herself what to do.
James moved past Shane and spoke to Claire. “You can all go home now,” he said, sounding hoarse and weary. “I’ll take care of these two.”
“They’re injured,” Claire said. “I don’t know if you want the doctor to take a look at them when he’s done treating the others.”
“Yes, of course,” James said. “Like I said, I’ll handle it. Thanks for everything. I appreciate it. Good night.”
Claire nodded, glanced at the other townsfolk, and walked away. Soon, the others followed her. The two surviving gang members looked up at the former sheriff. One of them started to say something, but James held a finger to his lips.
“Hush, now, little friend,” he said. “The time to talk has passed. Shane, go back inside. Keep an eye on Corbin.”
“Are you sure?” Shane asked.
“Y
es, very much so.”
Shane was too exhausted to think about the situation. He walked back inside, moving like a ghost, numb beyond comprehension. He was standing in the living room, watching Corbin snore softly beneath the quilt they’d laid over him, when he heard gunshots—one, two, back to back. After a moment, the front door shut, and James appeared at his side, a strange glint in his eyes.
“How’s our boy?” James asked.
“Doc cleaned the wound and stitched him up,” Shane said. “He’s drugged and resting now. As long as there are no complications, Corbin should survive, but he’ll be recovering for a long time. And our captives?”
“Handled,” James replied. “That’s all you need to know.”
Shane felt his knees buckle. The adrenaline, it seemed, was finally wearing off, so he walked into the dining room and sat down. He sat there for a long time, swimming in and out of sleep. At some point, Violet and Kaylee came and sat on either side of him. As if through a fog, he saw Owen and Amelia hugging in the living room, standing over Corbin.
“You all need to get some rest.” That was Dr. Yates, but Shane could barely lift his head to see where he was. “The dead bodies are out of the hallway, so you don’t have to worry about that. Your house is clear.”
Shane had never wanted to collapse so badly in his whole life. His put his arms around Kaylee, hugging his youngest daughter and stifling a yawn.
“Daddy, can we sleep now?” she asked. “I’m so tired.”
“Yes, sweetheart. Yes, we can.”
Epilogue
It put Beth’s garden to shame. Even from a distance, Shane could see the lush, well-appointed rows of flourishing plants, many of them fat with ripe vegetables. They had extended the boundaries all the way from the edge of the playground to the tree line just above the creek, giving them two full acres, and the volunteers had made the most of that space. Shane thought it was a little glimpse of Eden. It continued to amaze him just how much the community had been transformed through the tireless work of volunteers in just one year. What he had feared might devolve into a savage wasteland was instead thriving, and the evidence was everywhere.
As he listened to the giggles of children climbing on the monkey bars or swinging on the swings, he remembered the days when the tent camps had grown like cancerous tumors in every open space. In the midst of the giggling, he heard a baby’s soft cries, and he turned to see Owen and Amelia strolling along the sidewalk. She was pushing a stroller, and the baby’s fat little hands could be seen poking out into the sunlight.
“I still can’t believe I’m a grandfather,” he said. “I don’t feel that old.”
“The good news is you don’t look that old,” Jodi said, taking his hand. “Not quite yet.”
A large tent had been set up in the parking lot of the high school, and the space beneath filled with chairs and tables. Nearby, a row of charcoal grills smoked, sending the mouth-watering aroma of cooking meat and vegetables out over the town. It was toward this smell that the townsfolk moved. However, Shane’s gaze was drawn to the row of small white crosses set up at the end of the park.
The day was meant to celebrate the town’s survival, but also to commemorate those who had died in the previous year’s siege. Shane saw Gary Morde’s name written on one of the crosses. As harrowing as the siege had been, it’s long-term effect on the town had been largely beneficial. People were more pragmatic now. Everyone did their share. Some spent time in the garden. Others hunted or gathered berries in the woods. Some scavenged abandoned places in the metro area for supplies and equipment. Those with practical skills, such as mechanics and electricians, plied their trade getting the town up and running again. Even the schools were back in session, though Kaylee hadn’t been terribly excited about that. The combination of community gardens and a tax on private gardens meant the town always had enough food, and more than enough volunteers to run the food bank.
“Of course, Beth is cooking,” Jodi said, pointing out her mother.
Beth was roasting corn at one of the grills while chatting with James. She was doing well these days, though Jodi often had to remind her to watch her stress levels.
“It looks like she’s being distracted from her duty by our local mayor,” Shane said with a smile.
“I think she might be carrying on some sort of affair with our mayor,” Jodi said, giving him a lock of mock scandal. “What do you think?”
“Mayor James Cooley?” Shane said. “Yes, I think you’re quite right.”
James had only accepted the position reluctantly, but he was doing well, in Shane’s estimation. The locals had certainly become quite fond of him, if not nearly as fond as Beth. Another familiar figure seemed to be wandering back and forth down the row of grills, chatting to the dozen or so volunteer chefs. The badge on his shirt pocket glinted in the sunlight.
“And there’s Mike, keeping an eye on everyone,” Shane pointed out.
“Like usual,” Jodi said. “Our trusty sheriff.”
Mike saw them coming and tipped his hat to them. Shane still didn’t quite understand why he’d taken to wearing that silly broad-brimmed hat. James had set the standard, apparently, and Mike hadn’t wanted to break with tradition.
Shane and Jodi finally reached the tent and sat down at a table in the shade. Despite the bright sunlight, a cool breeze had somehow managed to swirl down from up north, which made the early summer afternoon tolerable. Shane turned and soaked in their surroundings, seeing the whole beautiful panorama of the garden, the playground, the townsfolk strolling toward the tent, and the houses beyond.
He hadn’t entirely gotten used to feeling happy. It seemed so strange. The world had not put itself back together, but their little community was doing well.
“Sometimes, I have this crazy thought,” he said, putting his arm around his wife and pulling her close.
“Oh,” she replied, leaning into him. “What’s that?”
“That we’re going to be just fine,” he said.
“Is that so crazy?”
“Well, I’m still adjusting to optimism,” he said. “I mean, even if the power never returns, I really do think we’ll be okay.”
He saw Violet and Ruby walking through the garden. Violet was so proud of the work she’d done there, and Shane didn’t blame her. She excelled at coordinating volunteers, and the people who worked with her in the garden seemed quite fond of her. As always, Ruby was right at her side, but Shane noticed that Corbin was often at her side these days as well. The boy had changed somewhat after his brush with death. Something about him was softer, gentler.
As Shane watched, Corbin leaned in close and said something to Violet, and she giggled in return.
I’m okay with that, he realized. The two of them are good for each other.
“How soon until we have another baby in the house?” Jodi said, gazing toward the garden.
“Are you referring to Corbin and Violet?” Shane replied. “My gosh, Jodi, give them time. I hope they’re taking it slow. Do you really want another crying baby waking you up at night?”
“No, not really,” she said with a smile, “but love keeps its own timeline.”
“I suppose so.”
Kaylee and Bauer were dashing about the park, but when Kaylee saw Owen and Amelia with the baby, she gave a loud whoop and made a beeline for them. She loved being a seven-year-old auntie. Amelia saw her coming and reached into the stroller to pick up baby Katherine. Kaylee leaned in close and kissed her squealing baby niece on the cheek.
“Food’s just about ready, folks,” Mike called, as townsfolk began streaming into the tent. “Come on in. Get comfortable. It’s going to be a fantastic evening!”
Yes, Shane thought, I think it is.
End of New World
Surviving the End Book Three
Crumbling World, 13 November 2019
Fallen World, 11 December 2019
New World, January 8 2020
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About Grace Hamilton
Grace Hamilton is the prepper pen-name for a bad-ass, survivalist momma-bear of four kids, and wife to a wonderful husband. After being stuck in a mountain cabin for six days following a flash flood, she decided she never wanted to feel so powerless or have to send her kids to bed hungry again. Now she lives the prepper lifestyle and knows that if SHTF or TEOTWAWKI happens, she’ll be ready to help protect and provide for her family.
Combine this survivalist mentality with a vivid imagination (as well as a slightly unhealthy day dreaming habit) and you get a prepper fiction author. Grace spends her days thinking about the worst possible survival situations that a person could be thrown into, then throwing her characters into these nightmares while trying to figure out "What SHOULD you do in this situation?"
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BLURB
Three months after life as she knows it was decimated, Megan Wolford has only one goal: protect her daughter, Caitlin, at any cost. When a mysterious illness strikes Caitlin down, Megan is forced to forage for medical supplies at a remote lodge. The last thing she wants is help from her fellow survivors when so many in her life have let her down—but soon she'll find herself with no other option.
Surviving The End (Book 3): New World Page 26