He rolled up the window, cutting off a question Sean was in the middle of asking. He’d answer him, but not until he got inside. Every bone and muscle ached and his fingers stung as they thawed. Leaving the car, he motioned for Hunter to go ahead and take care of Princess as he eyed the distance between himself and the house. Had it always been this far?
Head down, he brushed past Sean. “I’ll tell you all about it over a hot cup of… whatever we have.” He nodded to Elly, wanting to take her hand but too weary to reach out. She moved up beside him, draping his arm over her shoulders as though offering support for him to lean on. He gave her a wan smile. “I appreciate the shoulder, but I can walk. I’m just tired, cold, and hungry.”
Jake and Piper were already on the porch and stepping into the house. Two little heads were silhouetted in the window and he couldn’t believe how much he’d missed those two. Had it been only yesterday morning that he’d seen them last?
Then he noted Joe standing rifle at the ready at the corner of his cabin, his legs visibly trembling. “Joe!” He turned to Sean, who followed behind him. “He needs to go rest before he collapses!”
Sean veered over, and to Cole’s surprise, Joe didn’t insist on coming to the house to see what was going on, he simply lowered the rifle and allowed Sean to help him up the slippery steps to the cabin. Cole paused, glancing from where Joe had disappeared around to the door of the cabin, and Elly. “He looks terrible. Has he gotten any better?”
“No. He’s coughing, weak and feverish. I’m worried about him.” Elly wrapped her arm around Cole’s waist. “But Sean will get him back to bed and comfortable. While he’s doing that, let’s get you in the house. I can feel you trembling!”
“It’s just from the cold.” He didn’t want her to think it was from fear, although he admitted to himself that back on the ice, seeing the rifle pointed at him, his knees had knocked a little bit.
Jenna turned to them as they entered. “I started the stew heating as soon as I saw the headlights. I knew something was going on, and whatever it was, hot stew could only help.” Jenna stirred a big stock pot. “I’d call it chicken soup, but we can’t spare one of them. This is made of mystery deer meat.”
“I don’t care what’s in it at this point. You could tell me it was stewed rat, and I’d eat it.” He shucked his boots, coat and hat, and padded through the kitchen. “I’m going to change into something dry. Be right back.”
“I’ll bring you some warm water to wash up,” Elly called after him.
Elly slipped into the bedroom a few minutes later, a steaming pot in her hands. “Be careful. It’s really warm.” She set it on the dresser and turned to him, wrapping him in a hug. “I worried about you.”
“I told you not to.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. She smelled good. He didn’t know warm had an aroma, but that’s the only way he could describe her scent. And speaking of scents, he was pretty sure his own was strong, and set her away from him. “I need to clean up. I’ll tell you everything in a few minutes, okay?” He couldn’t resist a quick kiss on her forehead, relieved to find the fever gone.
His hair damp, his skin tingling from washing, Cole returned to the kitchen wearing sweatpants, a long t-shirt, and a loose, comfortable sweatshirt. He’d worried about frostbite on his toes, but they were okay, and he wore thick socks and slippers. Once he had some food in him, he’d feel like a new man.
Hunter had finished taking care of Princess and sat at the kitchen table with the rest of the family. He had a bowl of stew in front of him, and some kind of bread. Cole took his place and Jenna set his bowl in front of him, while Elly cut him a hunk of the bread. He let Hunter fill them in with his version, learning that Hunter had been looking for him, and that the fire had been lit as a way to guide him through the snow. He decided not to tell him that the fire had also guided the men to the island. Hunter’s idea had been a good one, and it wasn’t his fault it had attracted others.
“This stew is good, Jenna.”
She smiled. “I’d say thank you, but I didn’t make it. Hunter did earlier. I just heated it up.”
“I think I could get used to venison stew.”
Sean returned to the house as Cole spoke, and said, “I hope we get a chance to get used to it. We only have one more goose in the storehouse, and a few pounds of venison. I’ll try to go hunting tomorrow.”
“I can tell you where you’ll find a deer for sure.” Cole grinned at Sean’s quizzical expression, and gave the address where he’d left the deer. “It was slowing me down, so I stashed it. We also have to bring poor Red back. I had to leave him with a ration of oats I found in a barn.”
“I’ll go first thing tomorrow, Dad. But what about those guys? Aren’t they coming back?”
Sean tugged out a chair and sat down. “What’s this about them coming back?”
Cole explained the situation, and looked at Jenna. “I told them I couldn’t speak for you, and I understand if you don’t want to treat their guy. If you don’t, I’ll do my best. I can at least give them some antibiotics, although I hope you’ll tell me the correct dose.”
Jenna shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”
With that out of the way, Cole cleared his throat. “Before they get here, I wanted to discuss something with all of you. I wish Joe was here to give his opinion also, but we can ask him later.”
Elly sat next to him. “Ask him what?”
“This guy, Steve, said they were all heading down south. Somewhere warm. It got me thinking—maybe we should do the same?”
Elly turned from putting the bread away. “Go with them?” Her eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Leave the island?” Sean scowled, his arms crossed. “I don’t know… ”
“Where would we go?” Piper asked.
Cole shook his head. “Not with them, and I don’t know where we’d go. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I was hoping we could all figure it out together. I’d like to be somewhere in time to start planting in the spring though. This island was great last summer. It saved us.” He shot an apologetic look at Sean. “Most of us—but there’s a whole country out there full of supplies that will help us survive and better yet—build a new society. We can’t do that here on the island.”
Sean glanced at Jenna in some silent form of communication. He tilted his chin at Cole. “Are you thinking Florida? Because that’s going to be really hot without air conditioning.”
Hunter bit his lip, his brow furrowed. “This might be a stupid idea, but I saw something on TV a few years ago. Something about the Hoover Dam. Did you know it’ll keep running for at least a year all by itself? It would run even longer except some kind of little clam gets in the pipes and clogs it.”
“We could have electricity!” Sean grinned. “Damn. It would be good to work on wires again.”
Jenna’s eyes brightened. “Yeah. And if we can find some supplies, maybe we can have a real clinic.”
Sophie spoke from the recliner. “What about the virus? Couldn’t it come back?”
There was silence for a few seconds, then Elly replied, “It could. Nobody can predict if it will.”
Jake sighed. “Too bad there’s nobody left to make a vaccination for it.”
Cole glanced at Elly. They knew how, but didn’t have the equipment, but making a vaccine against a virus like this took more than just cooking up something in a lab. It took research. “It would be great, but probably not possible.” He thought of how Ebola victims had been treated with antibodies from those who had survived the virus. “If we had just one person who had survived, we could come up with a treatment, and maybe a vaccine later… but—”
Elly straightened as though an invisible puppet master had pulled her strings. “I think I know a survivor!” She smiled and looked at Cole. “You!”
Cole tapped his chest. “Me?”
“Back before you left the Navy when you were on Aislado Island. You became ill
. They put me in quarantine because of it, thinking I might have contracted something from you. They told me it was meningitis.”
Cole barely remembered that time. He’d been pretty out of it. “I didn’t have Sympatico Syndrome.” Had they diagnosed him with meningitis? He didn’t recall that diagnoses either. “They told me I had a bad pneumonia.”
“I think you had Sympatico Syndrome. Just an early form of it—they told me one thing, and you another. Why? Because they were creating a biological weapon—Sympatico Syndrome—only it wasn’t ready yet. Then it became more virulent than they intended because they did something to change how it spread. They weaponized it. What you caught wasn’t pneumonia—it was more like Ebola. It made you so ill that you were unable to spread it except via close contact.”
“But—they told me I had—”
“They lied, Cole. I would bet everything I have that you had the precursor to Sympatico Syndrome.”
Before he could reply, lights flashed in the window as Steve’s car pulled up beside Cole’s. Cole pushed back from the table and shoved his feet back into his boots as he shrugged into his coat. He didn’t want the guys having contact with the family. He patted his pocket to make sure he had matches. He waited as Jenna donned her coat and boots, and gathered her supplies.
“Oh, Dad, I forgot to tell you that I started the stove in cabin three already.”
Cole let his gaze rest on Hunter. “Thank you.” He paused with his hand on the doorknob, his look encompassing everyone in the room. “We’ll talk about this later.”
The End
Afterword
Invasion: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Novel
is now available
If you have a moment, a review of Isolation would be fantastic and greatly appreciated. It would also help other readers decide if this book is something they might enjoy.
Isolation on Amazon
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Mark Taylor: Genesis
(The Mark Taylor Series)
When Mark Taylor witnesses the drowning of a little girl whose death appeared to him in a photo taken the day before, he discovers that the camera he found in an Afghan bazaar has a strange and unique ability—it produces photographs of tragedies yet to happen.Tragedies that he is driven to prevent.
Wary of his new super-hero like power to change the future, Mark keeps the camera a secret--even when it means risking his own life. But with only 24 hours to act, what if he fails to prevent the greatest tragedy his country has ever experienced?
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank my amazing beta readers, Vickie Boehnlein, Al Kunz, Win Johnson, Lala Price, and Pam Moore. I couldn’t have published this without them. They gave me valuable feedback on what worked and what didn’t work from a readers’ point of view.
Special thanks to my writing buddy, J.R. Tate. She’s an amazing author and I urge you all to check out her books.
Thanks also, to the Antioch Writer’s Group, where I’ve received lots of encouragement and critique.
And finally, my daughter, Maggie, who helped me brainstorm several aspects of this novel, and who, as a teen herself, and budding writer, gave me feedback to make sure the teens in this novel sound like actual teens.
About the Author
M.P. McDonald is the author of supernatural thrillers and post-apocalyptic thrillers. With multiple stints on Amazon's top 100 list, her books have been well-received by readers. Always a fan of reluctant heroes, especially when there is a time travel or psychic twist, she fell in love with the television show Quantum Leap. Soon, she was reading and watching anything that had a similar concept. When that wasn't enough, she wrote her own stories with her unique spin.
If her writing takes your breath away, have no fear, as a respiratory therapist--she can give it back via a tube or two. She lives with her family in a frozen land full of ice, snow, and abominable snowmen.
On the days that she's not taking her car ice-skating, she sits huddled over a chilly computer, tapping out the story of a camera that can see the future. She hopes it can see summer approaching, too. If summer eventually arrives, she tries to get in a little fishing, swimming and biking between chapters.
M.P. McDonald loves hearing from readers, so feel free to drop me an email telling her your thoughts about the book or series.
www.mpmcdonald.com
[email protected]
Invasion
Sympatico Syndrome: Book Three
Copyright © 2018 by M.P. McDonald
Cover art by M.P. McDonald
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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MP McDonald’s Newsletter
Created with Vellum
Also by M. P. McDonald
The Mark Taylor Series
Mark Taylor: Genesis
No Good Deed: Book One
March Into Hell: Book Two
Deeds of Mercy: Book Three
March Into Madness: Book Four
CJ Sheridan Thrillers
Shoot: Book One
Capture: Book Two
Suspense
Seeking Vengeance
Sympatico Syndrome Series
Infection: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Novel (Book One)
Isolation: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Novel (Book Two)
Invasion: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Novel (Book Three)
For my dad, who always reads my books. Love you!
Also for my grandchild, Fox Atticus, already firmly entrenched in my heart.
1
Cole Evans stood on the snow-covered beach, eyeing the white pickup truck as it approached over the ice-covered bay. During the daytime, the truck would have been almost invisible, but at night it looked like a moving block of snow with headlights.
He shivered and stomped his feet, wondering if it might have been better if he hadn’t eaten and washed before meeting these guys. At least he wouldn’t be outside for long and Hunter had already started Cabin Three warming.
The pickup had a plow attached and, assuming it was Steve driving, Cole appreciated that the guy had effectively plowed a route back from the mainland. That would make things easier in the morning if the wind didn’t pick up again. It had died down in the last hour and the thick layer of clouds had thinned. Above him, patches of black sky shimmered with stars. Occasionally, the moon peeked from behind a cloud to bathe the scene in an ethereal white glow.
Flashlight in hand, he directed the driver to pull up onto what was the beach in the summer. After the truck parked and the engine cut off, Cole remained on the beach, the reassuring weight of his firearm in his right jacket pocket. He’d already secured a mask across his face, both to protect from the deadly Sympatico Syndrome virus, if the others were infectious, and because the mask served a second purpose of keeping his face a little warmer. Steve had seemed sincere when he had sought help for his friend, Mike, but Cole had to be absolutely certain these guys weren’t up to something sinister before he let down his guard.
“Step out slowly!” Cole shined the light in Steve’s face as the man exited the driver’s side. Steve squinted but didn’t protest and held his arms out to show he was unarmed.
“We appreciate this, Cole.” Steve nodded to the other side of the truck. “Mike’s really hurtin’.”
“Save your appreciation for now. I don’t even know if we can help or not.”
Cole flicked the beam towards the passenger side as that door opened. The man who exited was huge, standing at least six-five, a bushy, brown beard covering the lower part of his face. He squinted into the light, raising a hand to shield his eyes as his other hand remained
cradled against his belly.
“Step away from the truck.” Cole kept the light focused towards Mike’s eyes to keep him disoriented. He assessed the injured man, alert for any danger.
“Do what he says, Mike.” Steve sounded calm, his tone somewhat reassuring Cole, and from the way Mike’s shoulders eased down, him as well.
“I am.” Mike extended his left hand out to the side and winced as he tried to do the same with his right.
Cole nodded, satisfied the guy wasn’t faking an injury, and lowered the light to the snow before pointing it towards Cabin Three. “That’s where we’re going.” He motioned with the flashlight. “After you.”
Inside, after they had all stomped snow from their boots on the porch, they shucked their coats. Cole directed Steve to add another piece of wood to the stove and set a pan of water to heat while he lit a second lantern. Someone had already lit one and started the stove while he had been changing clothes so at least they weren’t fumbling for matches.
He spotted the box of medical supplies on a bookshelf beside a few books having to do with first aid.
Someone knocked on the door as Cole rummaged through the box. Between what Cole and Hunter had taken from the store and what Jenna had brought, they had a decent supply and had divided it into a couple of boxes—one for the main cabin and one for storage. That way if there was another fire or other catastrophe, their chances of losing all of it was lessened. “Who’s there?”
Sympatico Syndrome Trilogy Box Set Page 54