From the Ashes

by Kyla Stone

  “That’s a hammock of cypress trees.”

  “A hammock? Like for napping?” Park asked.

  “It just means a forest of trees.” Dakota rolled her eyes. “Don’t you people know anything about the state you live in?”

  “Not the wild parts,” Park said. “Nowhere with mosquitoes.”

  “You’re out of luck here, I’m afraid,” Dakota said. “Turn left here, on Mangrove Road.”

  Julio squinted. “I don’t see a road sign. This barely looks like it qualifies as a road.”

  “It does. It’s an eight-mile dead-end drive. There are four homesteads on this road. Ezra’s is the last. His property backs up to a huge area of wetlands. You can boat or kayak for miles and miles if you want.”

  “I love paddle boarding,” Park chimed from the backseat. “Especially with gators.”

  “We should cut the lights,” Dakota said.

  The headlights switched off. Darkness pressed in on every side. Julio slowed the truck to a crawl as they waited for their eyes to adjust. Thick underbrush scraped the vehicle’s undercarriage, leaves and branches slapping the doors and windows.

  Dakota leaned forward and looked up through the cracked windshield. A sliver of moon peeked through the straggly clouds, bathing everything in a blur of faint, silvery light and black shadows.

  “When we’re a mile from his driveway, we’ll park the truck off the road, out of sight, and hike in.”

  “You think that’s a good idea?” Logan asked quietly. “What if this friend of yours sees shadowy figures lurking on his property and decides to take a shot at us?”

  “We’ll stay out of sight. And I know where the tripwires and boobytraps are.”

  “Tripwires?” Julio sputtered. “Boobytraps?”

  “Cool,” Park breathed.

  “He’s well prepared,” Dakota said.

  “You mean, you knew where the tripwires and boobytraps were,” Logan said. “Hasn’t it been two years?”

  Anxiety pressed against her chest. “Yes. But it’s the best information we have right now.”

  “It’s the only information we have,” Logan muttered. “I don’t like this. Not at all.”

  Julio drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Why can’t we go the normal way and just knock on the front door?”

  “If Maddox and his people beat us there,” Dakota said, “they’ll greet us with a face full of lead.”

  “She’s right,” Logan said with an unhappy sigh. “We’ve got to scout the area first. If it’s a trap, we need to know.”

  “Park here.” Dakota pointed to an area thick with wild plants but free of trees. “Far enough in to hide the truck.”

  They climbed cautiously from the truck. Logan came around and helped Eden, holding her arm carefully so she didn’t smack her head on the doorframe or lose her footing on the way down.

  Dakota raised her brows in surprise.

  He shrugged. “What? I’m not a complete animal. I’ve got manners.”

  “You should practice them sometime.”

  He snorted. “Now there’s the pot-and-kettle thing again.”

  They were joking, using humor to diffuse the tension, but it didn’t entirely work. They were all on edge, taut with nerves, their expressions strained.

  They shut the doors quietly and gathered their gear in silence. Dakota checked her pistol, made sure a round was chambered, ensured she had her extra mags close at hand.

  Logan came up beside her, silent and lithe as a panther. His body radiated heat. She felt his presence thrumming through her own cells.

  In the dim moonlight, his eyes shone like black marbles. He was alert, ready. There was no anger or resentment in his face, only steely determination.

  She’d thought he would hate her, but he didn’t. She’d thought she didn’t want him around, but she was wrong.

  She felt herself drawn to him almost against her will. His presence calmed her, strengthened her. She wanted him here. With her. She wanted him by her side.

  He stood only inches away, studying her face in the darkness. “I’ll follow your lead.”

  She nodded.

  He started to turn away, but he stopped himself. He licked his lips like he was suddenly nervous. “I’ve got your back, you know.”

  Her cheeks flushed, but she refused to look away. She’d been alone for so long that learning to depend on someone else—to trust them—felt foreign. And terrifying.

  But she wouldn’t be here without him. Neither would Eden. It wasn’t just that she owed him--it was something else, something far deeper.

  Something that scared her too much to look at straight on.

  But Dakota had never allowed fear to rule her. She was too tough for that.

  Trust was a risk, but maybe risking everything was the only way forward, the only way to discover the beginning of something else.

  “I’ve got yours,” she said. “No matter what.”

  The End

  I hope you enjoyed the second installment in the Nuclear Dawn series.

  Read on a for a sneak peek of chapter one of the next book! The sneak peek chapter does end with a bang, so if you don’t care for cliffhangers, you’ve been warned. :-) Happy reading!

  The thrilling action continues in book four, which releases this summer!

  Need another great read right away? While you’re waiting, check out my completed apocalyptic/dystopian series, The Last Sanctuary, now available as a box set.

  When terrorists engineer a global pandemic, the key to humanity's survival lies in the hands of a ragtag group of survivors. But like the killer virus, the ruthless forces allied against them may be unstoppable...

  "Five Stars! I'd give it more if I could...Characters well developed, plot intricately woven throughout all of the books, and twists and turns at every corner!" -Amazon Top 500 Reviewer

  It’s 75% OFF for a very limited time, so grab it now! It’s also FREE in Kindle Unlimited! Read on for a sneak peek after the “About the Author” section.

  Get it HERE!

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  Sneak Peek of Book Four!

  Dakota held her Sig in one hand, the AR-15 slung over her shoulder, the extra magazines tucked into a pouch at her belt. She was prepared to go to war.

  So was Logan. “Let’s go.”

  The group followed Dakota across the road. They hiked single-file into the dense, dark forest with only the two small penlights to see by. Dakota had one; Julio the other.

  Anxiety scrabbled up Dakota’s spine. This was a terrible idea at night. But they had no choice. If Ezra was in trouble, he’d be dead by morning.

  Ominous shadows crouched all around them. They kept tripping on roots and vines. Mosquitoes whined in their ears, and an owl hooted overhead. Unseen creatures scurried through the leaves.

  Half-jungle, half-swamp, the Everglades was a land of haunting beauty—wild and foreboding, primordial and ancient—here long before humans and probably long afterward, just waiting for the chance to reclaim the towns and cities and towers of steel once humans were gone, once they’d blown themselves to smithereens.

  That was why Ezra loved this place. Dakota loved it, too.

  This mosquito-infested swamp was the only place in the world that had ever felt like home.

  Her heartbeat quickened, thumping against her ribs. Almost there.

  She was trekking purely by memory, the cabin in the clearing fixed in her mind: the oak, pine, and cypress forests surrounding it, the wide expanse of sawgrass and brackish water behind it.

  “Wh
at are you looking for?” Logan whispered behind her.

  She’d explored these woods dozens of times, but not for two years, and seldom at night. Everything looked different. Strange and dangerous.

  “Ezra has a buried cache near here. If I can find it, I can orient myself and know exactly where we are. Plus, the cache will have more 9mm ammo, and if we’re lucky, another gun.”

  She was searching for a particular live oak tree with the branches locked in a weird, twisting shape that resembled a heart. There were two scrubby pines on either side and three rocks pushed up against the roots that looked natural unless you knew what to look for…

  It was ridiculously hard to see in the dark. Shadows trembled just outside the halo of the penlight. The moon was still out, but the trees blocked most of its light.

  Twigs and thorns caught at her clothing. She nearly twisted her ankle on a tree root. The others stumbled behind her, Logan cursing softly.

  She breathed in the dank, familiar scent of moss, peat, and wet leaves. Every passing minute felt like an hour. Please, please find it…

  Finally, her gaze snagged on something familiar. Her heart jolted. There it was!

  She rushed forward, fell to her knees, and pushed the rocks aside. One of the rocks was long and flat, perfect for digging and chosen specifically for that purpose.

  The others crowded behind her as she handed Eden the penlight. Eden kept the light on the ground where Dakota needed to work. She dug frantically for a few minutes until the rock scraped against something.

  She brushed away the dirt, twigs, and leaves, and twisted the top off the five-gallon bucket, one of several Ezra had buried within a few miles of his property. This was the closest one on the southwest side of the property—exactly where she remembered.

  Ezra always said you couldn’t keep your entire stash in one place. You might be returning home when you surprised an intruder, or maybe you’d be forced to flee without your weapons.

  Ezra Burrows always had a backup plan.

  Dakota reached in and pulled out a Springfield XD-9 pistol wrapped in a Ziplock-type bag with anti-corrosion lining, made specifically for long-term firearm storage.

  She could have wept with joy. It was the same model as her old gun, the one she’d lost along with her bugout bag in the moments after the nuclear blast rained hell down upon Miami.

  There were two spare magazines for it—both loaded and wrapped in the protective lining—and a box of 9mm ammo. She handed the box to Logan, who slipped it in his cargo pocket.

  She moved aside some packaged protein bars, bottles of water, a small first aid kit, and a tin box she knew contained fire starter tools. She pulled out a folded tactical knife. “Give that to Eden, just in case. She can keep it in her pocket.”

  The last item she took was a pair of binoculars. She closed the lid but didn’t rebury the bucket. It would piss Ezra off—he was fastidious about stuff like that—but there wasn’t time. She’d come back later and take care of it.

  Her chest tightened, and for a moment it felt like some giant hand was squeezing her heart. She hoped he’d be pissed at her. It meant the ornery old bear was still alive.

  Dakota climbed to her feet, brushing the dirt off her knees, and slung the binoculars’ strap around her neck. She handed Park the Sig, who returned the Glock to Logan. Dakota kept the XD-9.

  “Point and shoot, remember?” she said to Park.

  Park nodded soberly.

  She held her finger to her lips. No more talking. They were close now.

  Within ten minutes, she’d led them safely through the woods and past a trip wire, the thin wire barely visible in the darkness. But she knew it was there.

  Everything was the same. Just as if she’d never left.

  Her heart lifted with a hope she hardly dared believe in. Maybe Ezra was safe. Maybe everything would be fine.

  When she glimpsed the glint of the fence ahead, she scanned the area for a tree to scale. She gestured for Logan and the others to remain where they were, then swung herself up on the low branch of a live oak.

  Swaths of Spanish moss tickled her skin. Tiny bugs crawled up her arm, but she couldn’t brush them away. She grunted, muscles straining, bark scraping against her belly and arms as she clambered into a sitting position, then carefully stood, leaning against the trunk for balance.

  Her pulse hammering in her ears, she peered through the binoculars. Ezra’s cabin squatted in the middle of the wide clearing. There was the big shed, the chicken coop, the garden, well, and the outhouse buildings, Ezra’s familiar pristine 2004 Dodge Ram SRT-10 pickup in the dirt driveway ten yards from the cabin.

  Two other trucks were parked in the drive. Strange trucks she didn’t recognize.

  Her heart stopped beating. Her mouth went dry. Her hands were trembling, but she forced herself to keep looking. To see it all, no matter how terrible.

  The front gate was dented and broken—they’d driven right through it.

  Three dead bodies littered the driveway. Dark, unmoving blobs in the moonlight.

  There were more people here, she was sure of it. More enemies, more danger. They were inside. With Ezra.

  Her worst fears had come true.

  The Shepherds were already here.

  To be continued…

  Book #4 , the penultimate book in the series, will be out this summer!

  While you’re waiting, be sure to check out my completed apocalyptic/dystopian series, The Last Sanctuary, now available as a box set.

  It’s 75% OFF for a very limited time, so grab it now! It’s also FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

  Get it HERE!

  When terrorists engineer a global pandemic, the key to humanity's survival lies in the hands of a ragtag group of survivors. But like the killer virus, the ruthless forces allied against them may be unstoppable...

  "Five Stars! I'd give it more if I could...Characters well developed, plot intricately woven throughout all of the books, and twists and turns at every corner!" -AmazonTop 500 Reviewer

  Read on after “About the Author” for a sneak peek of The Last Sanctuary!

  Author’s Note

  I hope you enjoyed From the Ashes! While I tried to be accurate with the setting of Miami, some names and places were adjusted for the sake of the story.

  As I researched improvised nuclear devices and their potential for destruction, I found some competing information.

  The reality is, we don’t know exactly what a nuclear groundburst detonation in a modern urban city would look like. Or how the aftermath would play out.

  Hopefully, we never have to find out.

  That being said, I tried to be accurate with the acute radiation syndrome information I included while also being true to the story and the characters.

  Thank you so much for reading.

  Also by Kyla Stone

  Point of Impact

  Fear the Fallout

  From the Ashes

  No Safe Haven

  Rising Storm

  Falling Stars

  Burning Skies

  Breaking World

  Raging Light

  Labyrinth of Shadows

  Beneath the Skin

  Before You Break

  Real Solutions for Adult Acne

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you as always to my awesome beta readers. Your thoughtful critiques and enthusiasm are invaluable.

  Thank you Becca and Brendan Cross, Mike Smalley, Lauren Nikkel, Michelle Browne, Jessica Burland, Sally Shupe, Jeremy Steinkraus, and Barry and Derise Marden.

  To Michelle Browne for her skills as a great developmental and line editor. Thank you to Eliza Enriquez for her excellent proofreading skills. You both make my words shine.

  And a special thank you to Jenny Avery for volunteering her time to give the manuscript that one last read-through and catch any stray errors. Any remaining errors are mine.

  To my husband, who takes care of the house, the kids, and the cooking when I’m under the gun
with a writing deadline.

  And to my kids, who show me the true meaning of love every day and continually inspire me. I love you.

  About the Author

  I spend my days writing apocalyptic and dystopian fiction novels.

  I love writing stories exploring how ordinary people cope with extraordinary circumstances, especially situations where the normal comforts, conveniences, and rules are stripped away.

  My favorite stories to read and write deal with characters struggling with inner demons who learn to face and overcome their fears, launching their transformation into the strong, brave warrior they were meant to become.

  Some of my favorite books include The Road, The Passage, Hunger Games, and Ready Player One. My favorite movies are The Lord of the Rings and Gladiator.

  Give me a good story in any form and I’m happy.

  Oh, and add in a cool fall evening in front of a crackling fire, nestled on the couch with a fuzzy blanket, a book in one hand and a hot mocha latte in the other (or dark chocolate!): that’s my heaven.

  And I never say no to hiking to mountain waterfalls, traveling far-flung locations, kitting out my bugout bag and practicing at the range, or even jumping out of a plane (parachute included).

  I love to hear from my readers! Find my books and chat with me via any of the channels below:

  www.Facebook.com/KylaStoneAuthor

  www.Amazon.com/author/KylaStone

  Email me at KylaStone@yahoo.com

  Or join Kyla Stone’s Book Lovers Fan Group HERE!