After The Fires Went Out: Coyote (Book One of the Post-Apocalyptic Adventure Series)

by Wolfrom, Regan

They’d torn her open... her neck, her hands, her chest.

  They begun to strip her body like it was nothing more than a chunk of meat.

  I took my SIG and shot both coyotes again.

  And I shot them again.

  But I knew I had to save one round.

  She’d loved me. She’d given me all of herself.

  And I’d hurt her. Over and over again.

  And now I’d done this.

  There was no way to fix it. There was no way to bring her back.

  I took the barrel of my SIG and slowly pushed it into my mouth, past my teeth, pointing it up toward my brain.

  I thought of Sara, of how beautiful she’d been. How she’d known me so fully and loved me anyway.

  I thought of Kayla, of how much I’d wanted her, so much that I’d never realized that she’d been pushing for this to happen. She’d have to live with what we’d done.

  I thought of Alanna; I’d never appreciated her as much as I should have, as much as she deserved.

  And Cassy... I’d never had a chance to make my way home to look for her. Or really... I’d never taken the chance.

  Then I thought of Fiona.

  When Justin had told me to choose, I’d already known. It hadn’t taken me any time to decide.

  I would choose Fiona. Always.

  Fiona was back at the house, laughing about a wasted day of trying to tap the frozen sap.

  Soon she’d start dinner without my help, cooking enough to fill seven supper plates.

  She had no idea that Sara was gone.

  And she had no idea that I was about to go, too.

  She’d never understand how I could make that choice.

  So I pulled the SIG out of my mouth.

  And I emptied the clip on those goddamn coyotes.

  Book Two

  After The Fires Went Out:

  Shards

  COMING JUNE 2013

  Excerpt

  Today is Thursday, April 11th

  Three years ago today the comet was sighted and the world started to fall apart.

  Today I marked the occasion by staying in bed until noon. I assumed that Fiona had gotten up and did the chores; I didn’t ask her, and she didn’t bring it up.

  April 11th is the one day when I let myself go, when I give up for the day and just let myself be miserable. I think one day off a year is perfectly reasonable.

  When I came downstairs I saw that Fiona had made pancakes. She’d added some chocolate chips to make them special. They were cold so I heated them up in the microwave. Thinking myself clever, I added some lemon juice and whisky to the maple syrup and made a nice hot toddy to pour on my pancakes. This brilliant idea allowed me to stay good and surly even though the view out onto the lake was looking beautiful and Fiona even more so.

  Fiona spent most of the afternoon alternating between giggles and sighs, before she disappeared into the kitchen to make a dinner I planned to drown with yet more whisky.

  She brought my meal out to the back porch, carrying it on a wooden tray that I didn’t even know we had, and luckily I chose to say thanks rather than give her an appreciative pat on the ass.

  "Just one day, right?" she said.

  "One day."

  She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. "You’re funny when you’re drunk. But you’re also pretty useless."

  "I know, lady... you might have to wait until tomorrow to try and seduce me."

  I shouldn’t have said that.

  "That’s sure to happen,” she said. “Now I’m going to go upstairs and lock myself in my bedroom."

  I watched her as she walked back into the kitchen, but with my whisky in hand I lost track of her soon after that. I finished my dinner and then I rested a while on the couch, staring up at the hanging stained glass loon and thinking of Fiona.

  I wanted to stay drunk forever. I couldn’t even remember what was so important about the eleventh of April.

  I woke up after the sun had set. I found my way to the grandfather clock and saw that it was almost eleven. I didn’t feel drunk anymore, and I decided to go outside, to listen to the sounds of the lake.

  I’d never have chosen to live up here, where the winter is colder than fuck and the summer is short and filled with hurricane clouds of black flies and mosquitoes.

  But this place has grown on me.

  As small as this world can feel sometimes, just me and Fiona, it’s also a place that can be so big that you could go out and get lost forever.

  I would have lost my nerve after The Fires went out... I would have lost the will to live the moment I’d climbed out of that lake and seen the charred forest.

  I would have... if not for Fiona.

  There's something special about her; she’s everything I'm not, and everything I thought the world had lost. And it sounds pretty strange, but I still know that the worst can't get me as long as Fiona is here, as long as I can keep her safe.

  That’s enough to keep me going. It’s enough for me to get out of bed on every day that isn’t April 11th.

  And it was enough again tonight, to get me to write a new entry in this journal, instead of finishing off that bottle of whisky and throwing myself back under the water.

  Sign up to Regan’s mailing list at www.reganwolfrom.com for a chance to win an Advance Reading Copy of After The Fires Went Out: Shards.

  About the Author

  Regan lives in Winnipeg, Canada with his wife, two children, and enough animals to bleed through six layers of carpet.

  You can find out more about Regan at his website: www.reganwolfrom.com

  Table of Contents

  Book One

  PROLOGUE