Rise From The Ashes: The Rebirth of San Antonio (Countdown to Armageddon Book 3)

by Darrell Maloney

  But by daybreak they’d pretty much convinced themselves the siege was over.

  “Looks like God has answered our prayers,” Sara said.

  Tom swallowed a mouthful of pancakes and said, “Let’s hope so. But let’s not let our guard down just yet.”

  Hannah had insisted on making breakfast for all of them.

  “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. The fluffiest pancakes you ever had, with thin sliced strawberries in the batter. These pancakes will be so light and fluffy, they’ll float off your plate if you don’t watch them close. They’ll go right up to the ceiling, and you’ll have to get a ladder to get them down.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes and asked Hannah, “Exaggerate much, Mom?”

  “Nope.” She giggled. “Well, maybe just a little.”

  Jordan called from the security console.

  “Mom, it’s almost eight o’clock. Are you okay to relieve me? I can pull your shift too if you want me to.”

  “That’s sweet of you, dear. But I’m much better today. I know I was a mess yesterday, but it’s behind me now. Let me finish my breakfast and I’ll be right there.”

  Jordan watched the monitors closely. There was absolutely nothing going on outside that he could see. He knew it was too early to declare victory, but he was breathing easier now. It looked like the marauders had decided they’d had enough.

  In San Antonio, the band of four brothers were waking up from a night of cards and whisky. It was becoming a routine thing with them on Friday nights. None of them had to work on Saturday and it was the only chance they had each week to cut back, have some fun, and unwind.

  That would have been good enough, but the chance to sleep late on Saturday mornings was the icing on the cake.

  John stumbled into the dining room, slightly hung over from the row of five shots Scott had dared him to down one after another the night before.

  “What? No coffee? What kind of people are you, to not make coffee when you get up? You heathens!”

  “Well, listen to King John, over there. I’m so sorry we’ve fallen down on the job, your highness. We’ll try to do better in the future, if you wouldn’t mind kissing my big ole butt.”

  “You had one thing… just one thing,” John nagged. “All you had to do was make coffee when you got up. And could the three of you handle that? Noooooooo…”

  “Oh, shut up, you big baby. You know we prefer your coffee. And you brag about how much better yours is than ours. So why are you gonna whine when we finally concede that yours is better and wait for it? Nobody wants to drink sewer water when grade A coffee is right around the corner.”

  “Damn right!”

  John put a new filter in the Mr. Coffee and filled it with his top secret blend of coffees. The truth was, everybody in the house knew his recipe. It was just two scoops of Folgers dark roast and a scoop of Hill Brothers hazelnut. Any of them could have made the same recipe, but they liked having John do it for them. Like most men, they only did things when they had to.

  “Can one of you at least go crank up the generator?”

  Robbie made a big show of crawling off the couch and slowly making his way to the garage. He had a sensitive brain, he liked to say. That’s why he always had the worst hangover of the bunch.

  “Hurry up, Robbie. You look like my Grandma.”

  “Your Grandma would be lucky to be as good looking as I am. And if she was, you wouldn’t be quite as ugly as you are today.”

  It was a pretty good comeback for a man whose head was pounding like a bass drum.

  “You know, John, when Hannah comes back home you’re gonna miss all that I do for you. You’ll be begging me to come back, I swear.”

  “Shoot. I know better than that. You won’t leave until I get Randy and Scott over here to help me shove you out the door.”

  Randy said, “Hey Robbie, you still want to get a place together when Hannah comes back and we have to move out?”

  “Yeah, sure. But don’t be thinking I’m gonna put out for you just because these guys aren’t around.”

  “Trust me, you’re not my type.

  “It would be nice, though, if you wore a skirt and high heels occasionally, just so I can remember what a woman looks like.”

  “Uh, no. Not happening. You can just do what I do. Come over and visit John and Hannah. Hannah’s gorgeous. John thinks I come over to visit him because we’re friends. The truth is I just come over to check out Hannah ‘cause she’s hot.”

  John yelled from the kitchen, “I heard that!”

  “Well, thank God for that. Now I don’t have to keep it a secret anymore. Hey, Scott, since the generator’s running anyway, why don’t you see if you can raise your people up north? Ask Hannah if she wants to leave John and run away with me instead.”

  John laughed.

  “Sorry, Robbie. My Hannah prefers men.”

  Scott laughed out loud, then regretted it when it made his head hurt.

  “Oh, my God,” he said, but never finished the sentence.

  Robbie asked, “What?”

  “You suggested calling on the radio while the generator was running. I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

  “Don’t compliment him, Scott. He might get the idea he can do this thinking thing on a regular basis. That would be bad for all of us.”

  Scott sat down in front of the ham radio and turned it on.

  “Joyce… Linda… whoever’s on duty, this is Scott. Come in.”

  “Hi, Scott. This is Linda. How’s stuff and things there?”

  “Stuff is okay. Things are a bit under the weather. How about on your end?”

  “Everybody’s well here. Who do you want to talk to first?”

  “How about Zachary? Our conversation got cut short last time when our generator cut out.”

  “Okay, he’s right here.”

  “Hi, Dad. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, son. How’s the reading coming?”

  “Oh, man… I get so tired of reading about biology.”

  “I know, son. But since we have the books anyway you might as well make use of them. An education is something that’ll always come in handy.”

  “I know, Dad. It’s just that…”

  Zachary stopped talking momentarily, and Scott thought he’d lost the signal.

  But Zachary merely got distracted, his finger still on the microphone key.

  And simultaneously, Scott heard several things come over the radio’s speakers.

  He heard Joyce yelling, “Oh, my God! We’re being attacked!”

  He heard Linda say, “They’re coming in through the corn field. Sarah, get the kids to the basement.”

  And, most ominously, he heard the sound of automatic gunfire, just before Zachary released the microphone key.

  Then, nothing but dead air.

  The war had begun.

  Thank you for reading

  RISE FROM THE ASHES

  THE REBIRTH OF SAN ANTONIO

  Please enjoy this preview of the next installment in the series,

  COUNTDOWN TO ARMAGEDDON, BOOK 4

  AN UNDECLARED WAR

  The group had planned for a lot of things when they built the compound. They’d provided for electrical power from more than one source. They’d provided for multiple sources of food to nourish them, and clean water to sustain them.

  The one thing they didn’t plan for was the need to bury any of their own.

  Perhaps subconsciously they just didn’t want to think about the possibility. Or maybe it was just an oversight. The one thing for sure was that everyone was hurting.

  It just wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  Tom said nothing as he dug the grave in the back corner of the compound. It was just his way.

  He’d always done his mourning in silence. When he lost his father, as a teenager. Then a few years later when his mother gave up and passed on as well. In both cases, Tom retreated within himself and sobbed tears that only he could hear. Tom als
o lost a brother to the ravages of war in Vietnam. He attended a funeral service without shedding a single tear, or saying a single word. When it was over, he walked away and never looked back. He’d never been to his brother’s grave since.

  It was a peculiar way of grieving, but it was what it was. It was just his way.

  The body was wrapped in pure white linen sheets and gently laid on the living room couch. The others gathered around, sometimes one at a time, and sometimes in small groups, weeping and asking why.

  They had no answers.

  Halfway through the grave digging detail, Jordan appeared at the top of the hole and called down to Tom.

  “I’ll take over now, Tom, if you’ll build a casket. You’re better than I am at that sort of thing.

  “I’ll dig the other grave too when I’m done. I got a lot more sleep than you did."

  Tom looked up at Jordan and it occurred to him that this would be a fine man. Was in fact already turning into one. And he admired Jordan for putting his own grief aside to help do the distasteful things that no one wanted to do, but which had to be done.

  So Tom climbed out of the hole and shared a brief hug, but nary a word, with the man-child. He handed him the shovel and plodded off to the workshop.

  The casket was nothing remarkable, made of mere plywood over a two by four frame. He’d stained it to give it some color, and used a soldering iron to burn a simple cross on the lid. All in all, it was a pitiful tribute to honor such a magnificent life. But it would have to do.

  The finished product, exactly six and a half feet long and thirty inches wide, would fit snugly into the grave. God’s earth itself would hug the soul as the body very slowly turned to dust.

  Hannah searched through the computer files that Joyce and Linda had saved from the internet before the world went black, until she found what she was searching for. A file full of old church hymns.

  She printed out several copies of Amazing Grace and Shall We Gather at the River, and the group sang the hymns together at the graveside ceremony. All except for Hannah, who stood watch at the monitors in case the evil came back to do more damage.

  In the end, it was a fitting, if not fancy, tribute to a wonderful human being. One the group would miss horribly.

  But life marches on. As she stood at the graveside trying her best to suppress her tears, young Sara held her sleeping baby, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and disrupt the tender moment.

  And Sara couldn’t help but wonder how many more of their own they would bury before the world became a safe place again. Before man stopped thinking he had the right to take what belonged to others, at the end of a gun.

  COUNTDOWN TO ARMAGEDDON, BOOK 4

  AN UNDECLARED WAR

  will be available on Amazon.com and through Barnes and Noble Booksellers in August 2014.

  *************************

  If you enjoyed

  RISE FROM THE ASHES

  THE REBIRTH OF SAN ANTONIO

  You might also enjoy

  FINAL DAWN

  Available now at Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble Booksellers.

  *************************

  What would you do if you finally found the love of your life, and were making plans to spend eternity together - and then found out that eternity was only two years? Mark is a romantic and carefree young engineer, and a bit of a cornball. His beloved Hannah is a beautiful scientist. Pragmatic, intelligent and analytical, she longs for the family she never had, and a change from her horrific childhood. Mark offers that change, and her life is finally complete.

  Then Hannah discovers that mankind is doomed. Suddenly their lives become a mad scramble, to find a way to save themselves and everyone they love.

  An excerpt from “Final Dawn: Escape From Armageddon”…

  Sometimes the gods of fate smile upon you, and bestow on you a treasure of such magnitude, such wonder, that you pinch yourself over and over until you finally believe it’s really real.

  And sometimes those same gods bestow upon you a bowl of smelly, steaming crap.

  They seldom do both within the same week.

  Mark Snyder finished the breaker box tie in just before losing his daylight. He’d been working in an empty house for days, all alone in his thoughts. He hated jobs like this. No one to talk to, no other voices to listen to, other than the ones in his head. The house was only about eighty percent complete. Not far enough along yet to have power.

  The electricians were supposed to button everything up by the end of the week. And yes, he could have waited until then to start installing the security system. But he had several other jobs going on at once, and he was trying to maintain his good reputation for coming in on time. So while most people would have taken Sunday off to watch the ball game and relax, he was here instead installing security cameras.

  He’d come back on Saturday and check all the cameras to make sure they were working, then install the operations console.

  But for now, he’d done everything he could do without electricity. He loaded his tools back into his Explorer and headed home. Enough is enough.

  Mark picked up his cell and called Hannah.

  “Hey, Babe. I’m on my way. Is the game still on?”

  “Hi, honey,” she said. “No, it’s over, but you’ll be proud of me. I recorded it for you so you can watch it when you get home. The Cowboys lost at the last second when Washington kicked a field goal.”

  Mark winced and bit his lip. He resisted the urge to tell her it’s not so much fun watching a close game when you know how it turns out.

  Instead, he praised her. Because after all, she was the light of his life and the best thing that ever happened to him.

  “Well, thank you, my love.” He said. “Are you trying to out-sweet me again?”

  Hannah replied “Nope. Not trying. I won that contest a long time ago. I just wanted to show you how much I love you.”

  She went on. “If you want some beer you’ll have to stop and get some. Bryan came by to watch the game with you. I told him you were working and he asked if we had some beer. I told him to check the fridge. He took all we had and left. Said if we weren’t going to watch the game, then we wouldn’t need it. He said he’d take it to someone who had the game on.

  “How did you manage to grow up with him without ever killing him?”

  Mark laughed. “Because he was the baby of the family and Mom always took his side. If I had killed him she’d have grounded me for at least a week, maybe two. But I thought about it many times.”

  He made a mental note to find a way to get back at his brother. And yes, he’d have to stop for beer. The last hour of the job tonight, the only thing that kept him going was the thought of downing a cold Corona or two.

  Mark walked into the Exxon convenience store and waved at Joe Kenney, the assistant manager.

  Mark shouted across the store as he pulled a six-pack of Corona from the cooler. “Hey, Joe! All that I have are these, to remember you.”

  A couple of the other customers gave Mark the strangest look. A “better stay away from this guy” kind of look.

  Joe yelled back from behind the counter, where he was inventorying cigarettes. “Jim Croce. Photographs and Memories.”

  They’d known each other since high school, where Joe was one of the coolest guys Mark knew. Joe knew everything about music from the good old days. The music from the 60s and 70s. Back when music was good, and you could understand the lyrics. And every other word wasn’t profane.

  They’d played this game almost as long as they’d been friends. Mark would find an obscure song lyric and try to stump Joe. But he seldom succeeded. Joe played five instruments, and had been in various garage bands since he was ten. Music was pretty much his life. At least when he wasn’t at Exxon counting cigarettes.

  The line was a lot longer than usual. A rolling marquee above the cash register said the Powerball jackpot was at $310 million. Mark let out a slow whistle. That was a good chunk of change.

&nbs
p; He seldom played the lottery himself, but Hannah did all the time. Poor sweet thing. She’d been stuck at home with the flu for the last week and hadn’t been able to get out. But he knew she’d have gotten herself a ticket if she hadn’t been sick.

  So as a last-second lark, he told the clerk to throw in a quick pick for the lottery, cash option, and paid two extra bucks. It was worth two dollars to make Hannah smile that beautiful smile. And it was the least he could do for her, for thinking enough to record the game for him.

  But Mark forgot to give her the ticket. Forgot to even take it into the house. He laid it on the passenger seat of his Explorer and it sailed down to the floorboard when a dog ran in front of him and he had to hit the brakes hard. And he pulled into the driveway, took his beer and watched the game, and never gave it another thought.

  On Thursday, Mark was doing a sales pitch to a banker who was worried because his neighbor three doors down had been a recent victim of a home invasion. The banker’s community was gated and a private security company made their rounds occasionally, but none of that had stopped the brazen thieves from posing as utility workers.

  In broad daylight, they knocked on his neighbor’s door, and flashed fake IDs to gain access to the back yard “to check the power lines.” From there, they cut the phone cable, kicked in the back door, and tied up the occupants before leisurely looting the place of all its valuables. They even stopped long enough to make themselves a sandwich before leaving.

  Thievery, it seems, works up one’s appetite.

  The banker decided he needed a better security system, and Mark was trying to convince him that he was the man for the job.

  Mark’s cell phone went off. A little bird whistling “I’ve Got Sunshine” told him he had a text message from Hannah. He hit the mute button and went on with his presentation.

  Half an hour later he’d sealed the deal and was returning to his Explorer when he remembered the text. It said “Call me ASAP.”