No matter what, however, Ava didn’t dare discuss the possibility that her last sighting of him had been a figment of Sara’s imagination—even if she felt a little vindicated that they’d found no body.
Perhaps they would never know. For her, at least, that seemed to offer hope more than dismay.
But for now, without the answer that Sara had craved and without Parker to start leading them again, they needed to be away from the fight. At least for a while. And New Albany was one of the liberated cities now.
The ARM forces stationed there had put down all FEMA resistance. Cities were being liberated all over the land as Council forces got pushed back to their strongholds in Illinois, Washington, New York, and California. The New United States of America, which was a name that was gaining traction among the resistance, was gathering an army of fighters here across the land, all buoyed by their successes. There would be a final reckoning to come against the Council, of that Ava was sure.
She knew she’d be part of it, too, but she wasn’t so sure about Sara.
What Ava was sure of was how she felt about Jim Parker’s daughter. It was so ironic that she’d spent all that time pushing Finn away, thinking that she was straight, and would remain straight forever, and then fallen so completely in love with Sara.
That was a conversation for later.
One day, the time would be right. One day.
New Albany was chilly and wrapped in mists when they rolled into town in David’s happily donated Blazer. They drove to Parker’s house, but waited in the car before getting out, looking at it. The engine ticking in the cold air, the metal of the hood contracting. Leaves blowing lazily on the ground. Trees becoming bare, their black branches moving against the bright blue cloudless sky.
A sign they had been seeing all across the country was also painted on the front door of Parker’s house. It was in red paint here, but it had been seen in every conceivable color as they’d traveled across the country. Before they’d left the towns to the west of Terre Haute, where David and Sammi had been welcomed back like heroes, and where Ralph and his family knew well enough to keep their mouths shut—the sign had already started to spring up across the land. They’d seen it nearly everywhere, and it seemed fitting that it had also been painted here, on Parker’s front door.
“I know nothing of his life here,” Sara said eventually, her hands still tight on the wheel. “This is a part of his life I never knew while I was living with the Church of Humanity. And now I get here, knowing everything that he became.”
Ava smiled, gazing at Parker’s door. “I know he’d be proud of what you’ve become, kemosabe.”
Sara smiled and squeezed Ava’s hand.
Ava tried not to show how thrilled she was by that, even as she squeezed back.
Sara climbed out of the Blazer and Ava followed her up onto the porch. The paint was dry on the sign, but it still felt fresh.
The same two words they’d seen everywhere. The expression of respect, and a symbol of hope.
When they’d first started seeing it cropping up, Sara had wanted to reject it. As if the words were too painful to contemplate. But as the months had rolled on, and the prevalence of the sign had increased, Sara had spoken quietly to Ava about how it was helping her to heal, about how it was bringing her back. It was like having access to her father in some weird symbolic way.
And yet it was becoming more than that.
They had both hoped this pilgrimage to Parker’s house would be the final piece of healing Sara needed to begin the next stage of her journey.
Sara traced the letters with her fingers, and Ava read them out.
“Parker Lives.”
There was a moment of quiet, punctuated by the movement of leaves in the breeze as it cleared away the last of the mist from the land.
“Yes,” Sara said. “Yes, he does.”
End of Dead Reckoning
911 Book Three
We really hope you enjoyed this series. Keep reading to find a sneak peek from Grace Hamilton’s EMP Lodge Series.
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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?"
It’s her wish that through her characters, you will get to experience what life will be like and essentially learn from their mistakes and experiences, so that you too can survive!
You can also follow Grace on fb.me/AuthorGraceHamilton and GraceHamiltonBooks.com
Jack Colrain never intended to be a writer. But retiring after 30 years living, fighting and surviving in some of the grimmest regions in the world, he found himself with some stories to tell and lessons to impart.
What he’s picked up over the years can’t be found in any survivalist classes or the latest prepper books—they’re hard earned from surviving in the harshest conditions and can be found only in his books. He doesn’t live in a cabin in the woods (yet) but in the wilds of another kind: downtown LA, with his wife and two kids. They don’t always understand his prepping, but when SHTF Jack knows he’ll be able to keep them safe. They’ll thank him later.
Jack now spends his free time writing books about characters who get into certifiably FUBAR situations, whether they're survivalist scenarios or more criminal/government related, and then he tries to get them out of it using the skills he’s learned. He hopes that by reading his books readers will absorb some survival skills and a few more people will make it out okay when it’s TEOTWAWKI.
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.
Ex-Navy SEAL Wyatt Morris is doing everything he can to hold his family together after the tragic death of his prepper Dad, so when Megan enters their lands, he is mistrustful at first despite feeling drawn to her. He won't turn away an ill child though--no matter how deadly the world has become. But the arrival of another stranger named Kyle soon gives them all a new reason to be suspicious. Wyatt knows he’ll have to forge alliances in order to keep his family safe, but trusting the wrong person could be a deadly mistake.
When Megan and Wyatt discover her daughter’s illness may be linked to Kyle’s arrival, it sets off a race to discover the truth before it’s too late to save Caitlin—and the rest of the Morris clan. Can they work together for survival . . . and something more?
Get your copy of Dark Retreat at
www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com
EXCERPT
Megan Wolford stumbled over a rock and nearly dropped her daughter before she quickly regained her footing. The sight of a log cabin through the trees had given her a boost of adrenaline and she found she was practically running through the damp forest despite her heavy burden.
She had fallen several times, bruising her knees and twisting her ankle. Her arms had deep cuts from tree branches that showed no mercy. There wasn’t exactly a trail to follow, which meant she wa
s cutting through the heart of the forest and its unforgiving terrain. She was making her own way, as usual, which always seemed to be far harder than it had to be.
“Caitlin, hold on, baby. Hold on,” she whispered to the lifeless seven-year-old in her arms.
Megan was doing her best not to panic, but Caitlin had collapsed a couple miles back and she had been carrying the sleeping child ever since. Carrying her where she didn’t know, but now that she saw what appeared to be a hunting lodge of some sort in front of her, she had a destination in mind. She had a goal.
It gave her something to focus on other than the agony that was tearing through her entire body. Another tree branch slapped her in the face, making her wince in pain. Her physical discomfort was nothing compared to the emotional anguish she felt at the thought of losing her daughter. Caitlin was the only thing she had left in this world. She couldn’t lose her.
Her arms were burning and her lungs felt like they would collapse, but nothing would stop her from getting her daughter to what she hoped would be medicine. Without it, Megan knew her only child would die.
She didn’t have a clue what had made her so sick, but Caitlin was gravely ill. In the past twenty-four hours, her daughter went from bubbly and energetic to lethargic and weak. Megan had left their most recent camp in the hopes of finding something to help her. They’d walked through one small town yesterday and found nothing. Every single place she checked had been emptied already forcing them to travel for miles.
She was afraid to walk through the city streets overrun with looters. Megan knew it wasn’t safe for her and definitely not for Caitlin. It wasn’t as if she could leave her daughter alone while she went on a scavenging mission. She had to do it with Caitlin or not all. Common sense told her she didn’t have the strength to fight off the hundreds and thousands of other people vying for the same basic supplies. Instead, she had decided to head out of town in the hopes of finding clinics, stores, and homes in more rural areas that weren’t as likely to be quite so dangerous.
Megan took long strides, slightly shifting her daughter, as she kept moving forward. Her sweaty hands were making it difficult for her to hold on to Caitlin. Gripping her hands together under her daughter’s backside, Megan pressed on.
She tried to protect her daughter’s head as best she could from the branches and sharp twigs that seemed to be jumping out and stabbing the intruders in the forest. Another branch hooked her sleeve, scratching painfully at the skin beneath and she could feel blood trickling down her arm, towards her fingers. She wanted to scream at the trees and order them to stop their assault.
Her back was killing her with the awkward posture of leaning back to keep her daughter secured against her chest. The weight of her pack helped pull her backwards, but also put more strain on her hips. She was grateful to have had an old hiking pack in the closet. The internal frame made it easier for Megan to carry it and allowed her to carry a lot more without much additional strain. She didn’t know if she would have been able to carry her daughter and her supplies without it. Right now, she was grateful the pushy salesman had persuaded her to spend the extra money on the pack.
Regardless, everything hurt. She could feel dried blood on her bare arms pulling the fine hairs whenever Caitlin’s body rubbed against the cuts, further adding to the misery. Each twist tore open the dried wounds, causing them to start bleeding again.
She had fallen several times, catching herself with one arm and holding her daughter with the other. She could tell her left knee was swollen. It was stiff and difficult to bend. It didn’t matter. Her daughter’s life was all that mattered.
“Just a few more steps,” Megan chanted more for her own benefit than her unconscious daughter.
She was thankful the weather had been mild. It was mid-spring in the northwest, but there were still little piles of snow in the shady areas. Climbing steadily uphill, her overused muscles screamed at her to take a break but she knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to get back up again. The cabin ahead was growing steadily larger as her strides ate up the distance. Because of the harsh winter storms, mountain residents were prepared to outlast storms for weeks at a time, which meant they would have supplies, including medicine.
If it had been more than the mild seventy degrees that it currently was, Megan wasn’t sure she could have walked as far as she did. As it was, she was sweating and the growing fatigue was partly dehydration. Her daughter’s feverish body was like carrying a giant lava rock. In addition to finding shelter and medicine, they needed water. The little water she had wouldn’t last long; especially if Caitlin woke and needed it.
She had eaten the last of the food she had managed to scrounge up at an abandoned home earlier that morning. Megan was now running on empty and knew her collapse would mean her daughter’s life. Push, Megan. Push.
When she got within three hundred feet of the cabin, she stopped to survey the property, staying partially hidden in the surrounding trees. If someone was here, it could go either way. Unfortunately, the new world was not kind. You didn’t simply knock on a stranger’s door to beg for food and water.
Not now.
Not after the EMP had plunged the world into the biggest blackout, humankind had ever experienced.
At least those who had grown up with electricity. Pioneers would do okay in this world, but for those who had never learned how to work with their hands or hunt for food, this was a form of population control that no one wanted to face. Those who didn’t know how to perform some of the most basic skills were suffering.
Megan had seen more dead in the past few weeks than the living. After the first dozen or so, she thought she’d grow immune to the horror of death and could simply move quickly past but the smell reminded her of what it meant to be alive as her gag reflex kicked in.
This new world meant that only the fittest, strongest and most prepared would survive.
Get your copy of Dark Retreat at
www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com
Also by Grace Hamilton
EMP Lodge Series Book One
EMP Lodge Series Book Two
EMP Lodge Series Book Three
EMP Lodge Series Book Four
EMP Lodge Series Book Five
EMP Lodge Series Book Six
911 Series Book One
911 Series Book Two
911 Series Book Three
911: The Complete Series Page 73