The Survivors: Books 1-3

by Nathan Hystad

  Contents

  Book by Nathan Hystad

  The Event (The Survivors Book One)

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  New Threat (The Survivors Book Two)

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  New World (The Survivors Book Three)

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THE ANCIENTS (The Survivors Book Four)

  About the Author

  Books By Nathan Hystad

  The Survivors Series

  The Event

  New Threat

  New World

  The Ancients

  The Theos

  Red Creek

  Follow Nathan’s Newsletter here for book release information and special giveaways

  BY

  NATHAN HYSTAD

  Copyright © 2018 Nathan Hystad

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art: Tom Edwards Design

  Edited by: Scarlett R Algee

  Proofed by: BZ Hercules

  ONE

  The ships came at dawn. The radio announcer made it sound like War of the Worlds, and in my half-sleeping state, I dismissed it as a prank. When I flicked my television on to see what the news station was saying about it, my stomach dropped to my knees. This was no hoax.

  The screen showed scenes from the world’s metropolises, and one thing remained constant: there were ships over each of them. Big Ben’s clock kept ticking while the people on the streets panicked. Lady Liberty pushed her torch into the dark sky, among the plethora of sleek gray vessels; above them were huge black boxes. They floated above the cities like massive monoliths. I tried to stay calm, but my hands had already begun to shake and my breathing sped up.

  The sun was just beginning to peek through my living room window, and I turned my blinds wide open. Relief washed over me when I couldn’t see any ships in the sky above me. That feeling quickly subsided when I noticed a reflection off something to the north. One of the ships was nearby.

  Not worried about walking outside in my boxers and t-shirt, I headed down my driveway. There were at least six of the vessels within sight of my house. I lived in a small community, a hundred miles northwest of New York City, and when I turned toward the big city, I could see the black cube even from here. I couldn’t even begin to calculate how large it must have been.

  My neighbor Susan and her cocker spaniel trotted down their driveway and planted their feet, both looking up at the ships. It was surprising how some people could look so much like their dogs. Carey barked up to the heavens, and I wasn’t sure if he was saying hi to the intruders or warning them off.

  “What do you think they are, Dean?” she asked, her eyes never leaving the dawn sky.

  I had only the slightest inkling of what they were, but I couldn’t tell her without sounding like a raving lunatic, so I kept it simple. “I have no idea, Susan. The news is telling everyone to stay calm. Maybe we should just go back inside.”

  By this time, the street was filling up with people, and I could almost taste the fear in the air. Carey saw a bird and chased after it; wings beat fast and the bird rose into the sky. My gaze lingered on it, and I saw the gray, shining ship in the distance, reminding me why we were all out here. The neighbors were all gathering around Jacob’s house down the street, hands waving frantically in the air, voices calling out over each other.

  I left them to it, giving Carey a pet before heading back into the house. They had been in our atmosphere for under an hour, and I was very curious to see what the news had to say about the situation now. My initial panic had all but passed, and my stomach growled angrily as I crossed my kitchen to the living room. I turned the volume up and listened to the anchor say that there had been no movement by any of the invaders, anywhere.

  Within moments, I went to my usual routine of making breakfast: burner on, frying pan heating up, and bread stuck into the toaster. I was a man of routine, and doing something normal at a time like this calmed me. My doctor had told me to cut back on fried eggs, but under the current circumstances, I figured that was the least of my concerns. Soon I had the comforting smell of coffee and eggs filling my kitchen, and the anchor said the president was about to address the nation. With plate in hand, I settled down on my couch and waited, seeing shot after shot from around the world of people’s reaction to the ships. Some were frantically trying to escape the large cities; some were bowing to the ground on their knees, praying to their gods, or maybe to the invaders. I had no idea.

  By the time the president appeared on the television, I’d cleaned my plate off and filled my cup a second time. Through my window, I saw a few neighbors driving away, cars full of personal belongings. I didn’t know where someone would try to escape to, but I wished them the best. No one knew what was going to happen, and even though part of me had been waiting for this day, I really didn’t know what they were going to do.

  Janine’s brown eyes knowingly watched me from the picture frame hanging on the wall. My heart ached as the president told the world they were trying to communicate with the ships. I couldn’t break my wife’s frozen gaze as the world was told to not panic, that this was our first contact with an obviously intelligent race. First contac
t.

  My phone rang, and I picked it up to see my mother’s name flash on the screen. I felt ashamed that I hadn’t thought to call her. Surely she would be in a full-on panic attack by this point.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Dean, are you up?” Her voice was frantic.

  “Mom, calm down. Yes, I’m up. We don’t know why they’re here, but maybe it’s not bad.”

  “Of course it’s bad! If they were here to make friends, don’t you think they would have used a little more tact than hovering thousands of ships over the Earth?”

  My mother had always been a sharp woman, and her argument did make a lot of sense.

  “We can’t presume to think we know what an alien race would know about tact. For all we know, this is a friendly gesture.” Even as I said the words, I knew they sounded wrong.

  “What should I do?” she asked.

  The truth was I had no idea, but she was all alone in her townhouse across the country from me. “Mom, just stay inside and don’t panic. Lock the doors too. You know how crazy people can get when something strange happens.”

  She paused and I could hear her breathing ease up a bit. “Okay. You stay safe. I’m just going to see how Mabel’s doing next door, and then lock myself in. Stay in touch, though, honey.”

  I said I would and hung up. The president’s speech was over, with no real substance behind it. The recap was scrolling across the screen on a black banner: Stay indoors. Don’t panic. My gaze wandered back to my wife’s picture just as the TV began showing people in the Middle East firing semi-automatics at the ships from the ground. Military forces in other countries were ramping up. Footage from Russia showed lines of tanks and fighter jets, ready to mobilize. This gave me a sinking feeling in my gut, and in a flash, my memory snapped into place and I felt like I’d been slapped.

  I had to get the necklace.

  __________

  Seven Years Earlier

  Janine was running late, so I had dinner covered and in the oven to keep it warm. It was her favorite: butter chicken and rice. The wedding plans were scattered across our kitchen table. In this pile of magazines, cake pictures, and honeymoon pamphlets sat our unfinished wedding invitations, and we were finalizing those tonight. I poured a glass of wine and sat down, grabbing her invite list. We each had a limit of thirty people, not including the mutual friends we’d already worked out.

  Her list had all of the regulars I knew: her adopted parents, brother, sister, aunts, and family friends. There were four names I’d never heard before. It made me think of how much we still didn’t know about each other; mainly, how much I didn’t know about her still.

  The door opened and she called at me while I guiltily dropped her list to the table.

  “Hey, babe. I just poured a glass of wine. Care to join me?” I asked.

  “Well, I smell butter chicken.” She smiled widely. “So that means I owe you big, and I may need a glass of wine to make your touch bearable,” she teased.

  I loved her so much. Her brown hair cascaded down her back, her eyes danced with mine, reminding me why I’d fallen for her so hard and fast. I was smitten.

  “Come to me – the monster you’ve agreed to marry.” I stepped toward her and she put a hand up, looking at the table.

  “Dean, I see you found my list,” she said.

  Her face had turned white, and I worried there was more to those names than I’d thought.

  “Is one of those an ex of yours?” I asked.

  She visibly relaxed. “No, nothing like that. You know I’m adopted…obviously. Those people are…some of my real family members.” She fidgeted with her necklace. I knew there was a pendant under her shirt. She said it was from her real parents, and she liked to keep it close to her heart. She never took the thing off – ever.

  “I didn’t think you knew any of your family.” I was hurt that she hadn’t brought this up before. We preached honesty, but with Janine, I always felt a wall between us that I didn’t want to admit was there.

  She could tell I was bothered, because she moved in front of me and cupped my face with her hands. “I’ve been looking for my parents, and I heard back from a cousin I tracked down. These two are related to me in some way, and I wanted to have them at our wedding. They live across the country, and it would be tough to see them otherwise.”

  “Just trust me enough to share this stuff with me. I want to know everything, and I’m here to support you.”

  “Of course, sweetie.” She fumbled with the necklace again. “I love you. Now, how about some of that great-smelling dinner?”

  She seemed a little off, but it was natural to be stressed with her whole newfound family and all of the wedding preparations.

  TWO

  I had looked everywhere I could think of and resigned myself to the fact that the pendant wasn’t in my house. I sat with my back against the hallway wall and tried to think. I ran my shaking hands through my now damp hair, racking my brain, but I couldn’t remember where I’d put it. Then it came to me.

  My clock read ten thirty-two when I checked it on my way into the kitchen. The television still showed ships by the thousands in the sky around the world, and there I was looking for a stupid piece of jewelry. I told myself it was a promise to my wife, and I knew there was no way I would break that. I fumbled around my junk drawer and found what I was looking for: an envelope with an address and a number on it. Inside, a key weighed the paper down. I put the key in my pocket and grabbed my wallet.

  Passing by a mirror in the living room, I saw what a mess I looked like. Hair in a wild display of unintentional hipster; clothing wrinkled and in need of a wash. Who was going to care today? The sky was full of aliens and I just needed to get across town. I’d be back home before I knew it.

  I clicked my television off and wondered how many people were still sleeping or hadn’t yet turned their TVs on or been outside today. They were going to be in for a surprise.

  My neighborhood was quiet, even for this time of day. Most of the people that lived here were retired or in single-income households. That, combined with half the families letting their kids stay home until they were thirty or married, meant the street usually had more cars and people out. Something about being outside right then was truly unsettling. Static. The air had an energized feel to it, almost like licking a nine-volt battery when you were a kid to see if it still had a charge.

  Susan was in her window staring up at the sky, and Carey gave me a bark as I got into my truck. I turned the radio on to the local news station to see what was happening. As far as I could tell, the gray ships hadn’t moved or done anything yet, and it had been over four hours since they’d shown up. The large black vessel hung in the horizon, a menace in my vision as I started to pull out of my driveway. I cracked my window to let in some fresh air. The September breeze had a hint of the autumn to come, but summer was still here in the state of New York.

  The soothing voice of Rollie Armstrong assured the townspeople that panic wasn’t going to help anyone, and he was reiterating what the president had just spoken about at his press conference. I knew people were scared; hell, I was shaken up by the whole thing too. But since my wife’s death, I’d learned to not get upset by the things I couldn’t control. Alien invasion would fit into that category.

  As I drove through the neighborhood, groups of people were just standing and watching, as if they could make the ships go away by sheer will. I passed the local Lutheran church, and the parking lot was fuller than on any given Sunday. Give the people a reason to pray and that’s when they begin to believe. One of my clients was walking to the church, and he lifted his arm in greeting. I’d known him for years, so I pulled over and rolled the window down.

  “Hello, Steve.” What did someone say for small talk when the Earth was covered by a million spacecrafts? Nice weather? Did you see the Giants game? You’re still on for this Friday’s poker game, right? I waited for him to start it.

  “Hey, Dean.” He nodded at the
church. “I figured it was time I said hello to the big guy upstairs. Something like this makes you think. Debbie and the kids are inside; I was just parking the car. Where are you off to?” His voice wavered, and I could tell he was really worried.

  “Just going to get some supplies. I figure the stores may shut down early today. That’s if any of them are open.” It was only a half lie.

  “The Happy Hut is open on Sherwood Road. That old guy is open on Christmas. I guess he figures to make money while the rest of them are watching the news. Well, I’d better get in there. Debbie is a mess. Take care, Dean.”

  “You too, Steve. With any hope, this will be all over soon, and I’ll call you next week about your paperwork,” I said. He nodded, his mind already on the sky. I wondered if I was the only accountant in the world who’d just brought up work today.

  The side roads were nearly empty, but when I hit Sherwood, there were cars for miles. I don’t think I had ever seen this many cars in our little city before. I sat at the four-way stop, thinking of the best way to get across town without being bogged down by the traffic. I looked to the left and saw what looked to be a fresh accident. The drivers were getting out of their cars screaming at each other.

  A flicker of recognition hit me when I noticed the back of James’ Jeep all smashed up, and the familiar gesture of him running of his hands through his hair when he was stressed. The driver who had rear-ended him was a large man, and was getting in his face. I threw my truck in park and jumped out. This wasn’t the first time James had needed me to come to his aid, but it was the first time in daylight.

  I ran the hundred yards to the cars, the rest of traffic still gridlocked behind them. James didn’t see me as the other man was pushing and threatening him. I could hear James saying his assailant was the one who ran into his Jeep. The law didn’t seem to matter to this guy, who was built like a Mack truck. I heard him mutter something about insurance not mattering anymore, because they were all going to be dead within the day.

  As the man cocked a fist to throw at James’ face, I ran behind him, kicked his left knee, and grabbed his arm. I was thankful for the memory of my high school karate lessons. We went down together towards the pavement and I whispered in his ear, “Let’s not let this get out of hand. We all have enough to think about today. I’m going to let you up, and we’re all going to just drive away. Okay?”