“Unbelievable,” Alice said, tossing her cards on the table in resignation. “I just can’t beat this woman.”
“It’s okay, Alice,” Lizzy leaned forward and rubbed the little girl’s shoulder. “I have the experience of playing a thousand games with two generations of children. You could say I’ve learned a few tricks.”
“You’re really good,” Timothy said in shy awe. “My sister only beat you once. She usually wins every time.”
Alice gave her brother a grim look and then turned back to Lizzy. “Want to play again?”
“Oh, I think I’ve had enough for one day,” Lizzy said. “I think—” Lizzy stopped speaking, and she tilted her head as if listening for something.
Jake heard it, too. The low rumble of car engines followed by the opening and slamming shut of doors. “They’re here,” he said, shooting Marcy a look where she sat with her injured leg stretched out on the couch.
Marcy gave him a quick nod and then put her feet on the floor, practically sticking her feet into both of her boots in one smooth motion. “Come on, kids. Get your shoes on. It’s time to go.”
Alice dutifully stood and walked stiffly to the front door, picking up her and Timothy’s boots from where they’d been drying out next to the welcome mat. Jake went to the window, peeled back the covering, and looked both ways down the street. Several small cars had pulled up at each end, and teams of X-Gang members were moving to the first houses on both sides.
“Is it them?” Marcy asked, but the tone of her voice said she knew full well that it was.
“Yes,” Jake said flatly. He moved to the chair next to the couch where his boots were and started to put them on. He glanced up to see Lizzy looking back and forth between them with an expression of sad finality on her face, but when she caught Jake staring, she formed a hard countenance once more.
“Let’s go, everyone,” Lizzy said, standing up and ushering them into the kitchen where their packs were laid out in a row on the kitchen table. “We had our fun. Now it’s time for you to go.”
“I don’t want to go.” Timothy turned to Marcy, face twisting up into a miserable expression as it dawned on him that they were about to go on the run again.
“I don’t want to go either,” Marcy said, putting Timothy’s jacket on him and zipping it up. She followed that with a rain poncho that had the Batman bat signal plastered all over it. “You want to go find your mom, right?”
“Yeah,” Timothy said as he wiped his sleeve across his nose and sniffed. “But I don’t want to leave Lizzy.”
Alice put her jacket and poncho on—it was a dark purple one with a white inner lining—and then turned to face Lizzy with tears welling up in her eyes. She started to say something, but her voice hitched up and she was forced to swallow whatever had gotten caught in her throat.
“Next time I see you,” Lizzy said, wiping Alice’s eyes with her thumbs before she held the girl’s face in both hands, “I expect you’ll be good enough to beat me.”
Alice sighed and nodded her head, her eyes never leaving the old woman’s face.
“Are you sure you won’t come?” Jake’s own voice was husky with emotion.
“Now, you know the answer to that as well as I do, Jake.” Lizzy stepped over and rested her hand on Jake’s chest, her eyes searching his face for something. Jake smelled the faint hint of lilacs and laundry detergent, and he closed his eyes for a moment as he imprinted an image of her face in his mind. When he opened his eyes, the old woman was smiling. “You remind me of my son,” she said with certainty. “Strong-willed and dutiful. You gave me some good last moments, Jake, and I want to thank you for that.”
Jake could only nod as his heart throbbed. They’d only known the woman a few short days, and she’d left a tremendous impression on them.
“It was good meeting you, Lizzy May,” Jake said, giving the woman a brief embrace before he backed up so the others could do the same.
The sounds of shouts reached their ears from the house next door, and Jake glanced at the back door.
“Go,” Lizzy said, backing up. “Marcy and I packed the rest of the antibiotics in with her things, and I left a few presents for you as well.”
Jake nodded and ushered the kids and Marcy out the back door. He started to step out into the rain when he turned back to Lizzy. “Wait. You said you had a surprise for anyone who tried to get into your house. What is it?”
Lizzy turned to an old cabinet filled with Chinaware, stepped up on a footstool, and reached up to take a shotgun down.
“Don’t tell me,” Jake said with a sideways grin. “That was Lou’s.”
“It was Lou’s, yes,” Lizzy said as she stepped off the footstool, wielding the shotgun like a cannon, a fierce look of determination on her face. “It’s been awhile since I shot it, but I suppose it’s a lot like riding a bike.”
“I don’t think it’s anything like riding a bike.” Jake’s chest stirred with emotion. “Even so, I have no doubt you’ll hit something with it.”
Lizzy flashed Jake a wicked grin before she shooed him away with her words. “Go on now. Get out of here. I’ll give these gangbangers something to think about.”
“Bye, Lizzy.”
With that, Jake turned and led Marcy and the kids through the backyard to a place where several wooden slats in the fence were missing. Jake slid through the gap first and stepped into an alley where five bicycles waited for them.
“You know how to ride, right, Timothy?” Jake asked, gesturing to a blue bike resting against the fence. An ill feeling rose in Jake’s throat as he realized he should have asked the boy sooner. If Timothy couldn’t ride, Jake would have to let him ride on the back of his, and that would make the going much harder.
“I can ride,” Timothy said, taking the handles and throwing his leg over the sissy bar. “Sis taught me.”
Alice got on her bike, a cool BMX-style model that Jake was slightly jealous of, while he and Marcy got on the trail bikes Jake had picked for them.
Jake’s eyes lingered on one old Schwinn he’d brought out along with the others where it leaned against the fence. The bike must have been forty or fifty years old, but still looked sturdy. It was the one they’d reserved for Lizzy should she have decided to come with them.
“Let’s cut across the parking lot,” Jake said gruffly, turning away from the Schwinn and guiding his bike over a patch of wet grass to the blacktop parking lot of the school right behind Lizzy’s house.
“I haven’t ridden a bike in twenty years,” Marcy said as she pushed off, threw her leg over the seat, and struggled to keep from crashing immediately.
“It’s been longer for me,” Jake said, tipping to the left before quickly righting himself with a jerk of the handlebars. Once he felt in control, he stood on the pedals and put his weight into it, rocketing off across the parking lot with the others coming right behind him. Once they were across the parking lot, Jake led them around the school and into a side lane that ran west as far as he could tell.
They picked up speed, Jake’s heart heavy as they put yards between themselves and Lizzy May, and X-Gang. It was only when a shotgun blast cut through the gloom that Jake stood up and let himself coast down the road, closing his eyes as tears streamed down his face to mix with the cold hard rain pattering his cheeks.
There was a long road behind them, and an even longer road ahead.
Chapter 29
Somewhere in Tennessee
“Stop here,” Yi said from where he sat in the passenger side of the van.
Jiao eased the van to the right side of the wet road and onto the shoulder, coming to rest at the top of a rise overlooking several businesses along the four-lane road. Yi opened his door and exited the van, coming around to the front and looking down at a gas station where some activity was taking place.
Four vehicles were lined up, bumper to bumper, in a semi-circle in front of the gas station. Armed men and women were crouched down behind the wall of metal, their weapons point
ed toward the gas station. The gas station likewise boasted a wall of debris—crates, car doors, side panels, and an old refrigerator—that formed a defensive barrier in front of the building. The defenders knelt or squatted behind their barricade in a formidable display of weaponry of their own.
Two men stood in the middle of the parking lot near the gas station pumps, talking heatedly in the drizzle of rain.
“What are they doing?” Jiao asked, coming to stand to Yi’s left.
“I believe they are bartering,” Yi observed with a faint grin, glancing at Jiao to see that she still had some speckles of blood on her cheek. “One man has some goods, but requires gasoline.”
“And the other claims ownership of the gasoline,” Jiao said in a slightly interested tone.
“That’s right,” Yi said as a dawning realization struck him. “This is a good thing.”
“Why?”
“It indicates a break down in the United States monetary system,” Yi replied. “Money is becoming worthless, so they have resorted to alternative methods of trading goods. Our work is having an effect.”
“Do you want us to destroy them?” Ivan asked as he strode up to stand on Yi’s right. His muscled arms flexed as he gripped his rifle tightly to his side, eyes eagerly staring down at the escalating situation below. The big Russian wore his bloodstained Tennessee Volunteers jersey with a strange sense of pride, although he had torn the arms off so that his biceps bulged freely.
“We will not interfere yet,” Yi said, turning his eyes back to the two men in the center of the confrontation. “They will destroy themselves soon enough.”
The two men continued to barter and gesticulate until the gas station leader crossed his arms and made a “wipe out” gesture that indicated he was done bargaining and that whatever deal they’d been working on was off. The man representing the car people stared at the gas station leader for a moment, then he stepped forward to shove the man hard in the chest.
A shot rang out, smoke rising from the barrel of one of the defenders. The car leader jerked back, clutched his left shoulder, spun, and fell to the cement. One of the car people shouted, and they unleashed a volley of gunfire as the gas station leader dove to the ground.
Yi grinned as lead flew in both directions, biting into metal and flesh as the two sides exchanged deadly fire. Blood sprayed the cement and shouts of pain and agony rang out in the gloomy daylight, sending chills of pleasure up Yi’s spine.
The car leader remained on the ground where he’d fallen, as the gas station leader crawled back toward the protection of his people, leaving a trail of blood behind. The car people climbed into their bullet-ridden vehicles and drove off, leaving their dead leader behind while two of the defenders rushed out to retrieve their own man.
“We’ll finish them off,” Yi said, chuckling. “And then we’ll refuel.”
The dragon warriors got back in their van. Jiao started the van and eased it off the shoulder, back onto the main road, slowly descending on the weary and depleted defenders.
Yi grinned and put on his mask to the sounds of weapons being checked and loaded.
WEATHERING THE STORM Book 3
Available Here
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Clocking in at nearly 300,000 words with over 250,000 copies sold, this is the complete collection of the original bestselling post-apocalyptic Final Dawn series. If you enjoy gripping, thrilling post-apocalyptic action with compelling and well-written characters you’ll love Final Dawn.
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Surviving the Fall is an episodic post-apocalyptic series that follows Rick and Dianne Waters as they struggle to survive after a devastating and mysterious worldwide attack. Trapped on the opposite side of the country from his family, Rick must fight to get home while his wife and children struggle to survive as danger lurks around every corner.
Prip’Yat: The Beast of Chernobyl
Two teens and two Spetsnaz officers travel to the town of Prip’Yat set just outside the remains of the Chernobyl power plant. The teens are there for a night of exploration. The special forces are there to pursue a creature that shouldn’t exist. This short thriller set around the site of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster will keep your heart racing right through to the very end.
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The Makeshift Wizard: Death Magic
The Makeshift Wizard series is a new action-packed urban fantasy series from bestselling post-apocalyptic author Mike Kraus writing as MJ Kraus.
My job was supposed to be easy. Investigate a bleed farm, find the a-hole vamps who've been kidnapping Normals and bring down some street justice. Now I've got a relic in my hands that was created with the blood and death magic of an elder Vampire and a whole lot more questions than answers.
Weathering The Storm (Book 2): Surge Page 17