Tiny’s eyes went wide. “I never even noticed them. I’m sorry. That was the first I was able to talk to anyone about what I thought was going on, and he suggested I take a test. I wasn’t looking for a Snickers. If the test hadn’t been enough proof, that day in the woods when I puked solidified my suspicions.”
“You could have told me sooner.”
“There are few things you were ever absolutely certain of, and not having kids was one of them. I didn’t know how you would take it, and on that trip it really wasn’t the right time to bring it up.”
He looked into her warm brown eyes. The woman he had always loved. He might not have ever wanted kids, but things didn’t always go the way people planned. For once the derailing of his plans would actually create a life instead of destroy one. He was certain nothing was impossible for the two of them. Despite all the challenges that came with raising a child, especially during the Primal Age, if she was his partner, he would take his chances.
His fingers slid up her back and into her hair. He pressed his lips to hers, and they both forgot about their problems and their pains as he laid her back on the bed.
* * *
John burst through the door to the roof and hurried to the edge. He placed his hands on his ledge as his breaths caught in his throat. His chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it, and his vision was turning into tiny black tunnels. The last time he had a panic attack was when he was a kid, but this felt just like those days.
He had gone to Grace’s room to see if he could figure out the project for which she had requested his help. There was no project. There was a clean room—something her room rarely was—with an end table sitting in the center. On top of the table were a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a candle.
It was so girly it didn’t seem like it was possible he could be in her room. So he checked the door twice to be sure. It was her room. She had wanted to have him to herself. Finally, they would have been together.
John stared at the ground below, trying to remember Kade’s words about carrying on, but he could only seem to recall the ones about the easiest step. He put his forehead to the ledge and closed his eyes, hoping to leash his spinning world back under his own control.
A small hand rubbed his back between his shoulder blades.
“Grace?” John asked as he spun around. He was face-to-face with Emma. All his hope and joy faded in that second.
“Just me. I’m sorry about Grace,” Emma said.
John moved away from her. “You don’t understand.”
“I have no idea if my mum, dad, little sister, boyfriend, or anyone I ever knew is still alive. I do understand. This isn’t something you have to deal with on your own,” Emma said, watching John back away, but not pursuing him.
John waved his hands in front of his body, like a baby bird trying to fly. “I don’t want help from you.”
“All I’m trying to do is be your friend,” Emma said.
“I don’t think we can be friends.”
Emma bit her bottom lip and turned her back to John. She didn’t say a word as she left the room, and John wasn’t sure, but he thought she may have been crying. The better man inside of John wanted to go after her and comfort her for what she was going through, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but feel sorry for himself.
He leaned his forearms on the ledge and gazed in the direction he believed the pack of foamers—among them, Grace—were wandering.
The door opened behind him.
“I already told you, I don’t want to be friends,” John hissed.
“I never liked you much anyhow,” Kade’s voice replied.
John spun around to find his leader leaning in the doorway.
“Sorry, I thought you were . . . someone else,” John said.
“Whoever that someone else is, you should probably reconsider being friends. There aren’t many of us left. But I’m not here to lecture you. X told me you missed church. Tomorrow we can secure your old church and then, if you’d like, you can host a mass every week,” Kade said.
John mulled the idea over. There were many doubts he had about the idea—like if he would even have an audience to address—but maybe if he spent time in church it would help fill that empty feeling.
“Thanks, Kade,” John said.
“We all need to hold on to whatever gives us faith. Now come on, the rules have been finalized for primal ball,” Kade said, waving John toward him.
John shook his head. “I really don’t want to play games right now.”
“Which is exactly why you should,” Kade replied. “You can come by choice or force, and I’d rather not embarrass you.”
John conceded with a nod and followed Kade.
* * *
Cunningham lay as still as she could. Her captors had treated most of her wounds, but they had not spared any painkillers, and just breathing was enough to make her want to pass out. Looking at the makeshift cast, she knew she would be stuck here a long time, but she wouldn’t waste the opportunity.
The police officer seemed to think he could change her. She could simply play into his hopes until she had an opportunity to strike. She smiled to herself, thinking this was almost too easy.
She would be a spy without even having to try. By the time she left them, she would be able to provide the president with all the information he wanted. If she had known they were this stupid, she would have found a way to get captured a long time ago. For now, all she had to do was bide her time and tolerate some pain before her opportunity came.
* * *
The familiar feel of being alive came back to Kade while he stood between the two goal posts watching the ball work its way around the field. They had gotten everyone out to play, even the elusive Damian. Ashton jogged down the middle of the field, serving as their referee. The two horses grazed by the helicopter, while Fenris watched over Rex and Bristle. The cheetah and puppy were becoming quick friends.
Kade thought their unanimous involvement stemmed from the fact that, even though their most recent battles were behind them, all of them still had wars to fight. Each needed a brief respite from the reality of life, and this game of games was the best outlet they had.
In the Old World, Kade had loved being between the posts. It gave him clarity and silenced his thoughts. Watching each of his family members, blood and water alike, and knowing the struggles they each had made cleared his mind—a difficult task.
Jem hurled a ball past Kade, who fetched it from the goal and sent it back out for his team to restart at half. Kade had lost so much more than a point. Drew, Scott, Zack, and Grace were gone. He hoped one day they would be able to rehabilitate Grace, but he feared that day wouldn’t come for a very long time. And though he hadn’t really known him, Yuzuki’s friend Anquan had died during one of Kade’s plans as well.
Another goal blew by Kade, this one courtesy of John. Jem and Mick had spent days being tortured and drugged. Meredith had been violated by Wright and had to survive a bout with the Feline Flu vaccine. Damian had a finger shot off. Tiny had been shot. Ashton had her arm broken. Almost no one in the group had survived the past few days without an injury.
The next goal was delivered by Emma. Kade stood and watched the ball sitting in the net, wondering if he should even bother retrieving it. There was so little to be happy about. The battles had taken their toll. The cohort had gotten Victoria back, and added Yuzuki, Emma, Meredith, and Franklin. They had managed to retrieve Jem and Mick. Overall, it still felt like he was coming out in the negative.
Tiny walked past Kade and picked up the ball. She put a hand on his shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. “Goldfish.”
A relic from Kade’s past, goldfish was what his soccer coach used to tell the players when they needed to move on from their mistakes. A goldfish has a five-second memory, which never allows them to dwell on the good or bad. It was necessary for a goalie, and more importantly a leader, to always remember to keep moving forward. To move on.
>
Kade gave her a nod, and she returned to midfield to restart play. He watched Tiny work her way up the field and couldn’t help but grin. He was beyond terrified of being a father, but he knew anything was possible with her on his team.
As the ball worked its way back down to Kade’s side of the field, he found the old goalie lying dormant within him and released him into a nirvana-like bliss. He focused on the laughter of his friends and believed for the remainder of the game that the only thing that mattered was the score.
Kade leaped to snatch the next shot that came his way. While he looked down field for a player to pass to, he noticed that the middle finger on his left hand was tapping on the ball. He hadn’t told it to do that. After he made the pass down to Tiny, five seconds went by before his finger stop moving of its own accord. He tried not to think about it, and turned his focus back to the game and helping his team win, whatever the cost.
Eventually the game would end. The score wouldn’t matter. And the Primal Age would come crashing back down on all of them. But for the next ninety minutes of their lives, the only thing that anyone cared about was winning.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the purchasers of the first book. Without you guys this series wouldn’t have been able to continue. Cheers to two.
Kaylie Jones Books and Akashic Books for making this possible.
My first round of readers: Kristen Millar, Rachel Wiren, and Ryan McAninch.
My family for keeping me alive so I can keep writing.
The ten or so employers who keep spots for me whenever I need to work so I can keep my writing lifestyle.
Everyone who bounced ideas or was willing to tell me when I suck during the course of this project. Especially J. Patrick Redmond, author of Some Go Hungry, who offered advice on the development of a certain character.
Those closest to me who tolerated the difficulties of loving a writer.
And lastly, the Hi Life Diner in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania, for reserving the booth with the power outlet for me every day, keeping my coffee full, and letting me write for hours a day.
E-Book Extras
Page forward for an excerpt from Foamers,
Book I in The Primal Age Chronicles
About Justin Kassab
CHAPTER I
SAME OLD, SAME OLD
___________
“I’ll never understand why he fights,” Kade said, pointing to the alien robot on the TV screen. “He knows he’s defeated.”
Sitting beside Kade on the couch was Jem. They were watching a movie about alien robots that had been a tradition of theirs for over a decade.
Jem, an acronym for James Eric Masters, was wearing his full military uniform and drinking a beer. Kade had always been amused by the fact that he and his friend were polar opposites. He had shaggy hair and a scruffy beard, while Jem had a clean-shaven face with a close military cut. Jem was a National Guard Chinook helicopter pilot, volunteer firefighter, and owned a dog. Kade was content working at Rite Aid. Somehow they managed to be friends.
“One day I hope you’ll understand, Chief,” Jem replied, his ice-blue eyes glued to the movie.
“Whatever.” Kade knew that if he ever found himself on his knees before a super badass robot, knowing he didn’t stand a chance, he’d make his peace and call it a day.
He rattled the last drops in his beer can.
Jem shook his head. “Still got half.”
Kade weaved his way through the main room, populated by a handful of Jem’s friends. Under normal circumstances there would have been more, but after months of living in fear of the Feline Flu, many people avoided high contact environments. Even the new vaccine release didn’t give everyone who was invited the courage to make an appearance. Kade didn’t know many of people in his house, but Jem was popular and, after all, this was his deployment party.
Come Back Safe was hanging in big letters over the entrance to the kitchen, each word on its own piece of printer paper. The President had called in Jem’s unit to D.C. to help with disaster relief, and crowd control. The Feline Flu had devastated Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Pittsburgh. The rate of contamination was much higher in the cities, along with increased societal complications: transportation breakdowns, protesters, riots, looters, and murder.
Every day the media had run broadcasts about some Steelers-wearing jackass in a WWI gas mask breaking through a drugstore window, or a crowd of people protesting where the Rocky statue used to be. The protestors showed no indication of dissipating even though the vaccine was available as of twelve hours ago. The news would maintain their scare tactics for months regardless of the Flu’s threat level after the vaccine, unless a better story came along.
Since the outbreak of the Feline Flu, Kade had been doing research to make sure he was intelligently informed. The natural resistance of people aged fourteen to thirty made them more resilient to the Flu, which, combined with the sparse population of Central Pennsylvania, made the risk of contagion lower than the national average.
Even with this information in hand he understood the public’s fear-based reaction. The death toll had been climbing rapidly, and it was the deadliest flu since the Spanish Influenza. Add that to the news continuously playing the stats of the Feline Flu, the stage was set for panic to play itself out. The Feline Flu vaccine was now circulating, and early reports showed that in the past twelve hours, 90 percent of the American population had been inoculated. The President had declared a national emergency and shut down all schools and nonessential businesses so that everyone could receive the vaccine immediately. This mass vaccination wasn’t a silver bullet by any stretch, but it would curtail the fatalities. After more than a year of death and chaos, Kade hoped people would relax and return to living without fear.
Like most of the country, Kade had lost someone to the flu. His father had passed away from pneumonia in the first month. Losing his father had hit him hard, but he clung to being his little sister’s only caretaker to fight through the pain. The funeral had been a little over a year ago, which was the last time Kade had seen his fraternal twin brother, Damian.
He snapped back from his thoughts and tried to remember why he was now standing in the kitchen. The empty beer can in his hand reminded him why he’d embarked. Two women blocked his path to the fridge. One was his little sister, Ashton; the other was his longtime friend whom they all called Tiny.
Kade reached over Ashton’s shoulder and plucked the beer from her hand.
“Shit, Kade, really?” Ashton said, putting her hands on her hips and scowling at him.
The cold liquid tasted so much better when taken from her.
“It’s not like Tiny won’t hand you another beer the moment I walk away,” he said.
“Look at you, playing big brother,” Tiny said. Kade couldn’t help but look his friend up and down. Her long, slender legs disappeared under a pair of jean shorts. She wore a black tank top that contrasted against her milky skin, which had stayed smooth even after her tour as a combat medic in the Middle East. Her defined neck, freckled cheeks, and black hair drew him in. Her lips stretched into a tight-lipped smile as she looked at him with her warm brown eyes. Kade knew no look he liked better.
Ashton shooed him with a hand. “Then git.”
He scratched his nose with his middle finger and walked out of the kitchen.
“Act your age,” she hollered after him.
Tiny opened the fr
idge and pulled out a beer.
“Don’t hate him for it, he’s just trying to protect you,” Tiny said, leaning against the table. “How’d your senior year go?”
Ashton cracked the can and took a swig. “I tore my Achilles. While my team celebrated a State Championship, I went to the hospital. So it ended splendidly. How’d your tour go?”
“Discharged.” Tiny turned to the side to show an ugly scar running the length of her quad to her knee. The jagged scar resembled a cursive M, fishing around the base of her knee to her inner leg.
Ashton traced her fingers along the scar. “Still, had to be pretty cool being a combat medic.”
“Till I had to pull shrapnel from my own leg.”
“I hate physical therapy.”
“It’s such a pain in the ass. Are you at First Choice Rehab?” Tiny asked.
“One hour, Monday, Wednesday, Friday,” Ash replied.
“They have me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’ll see if I can switch so we can suffer together,” Tiny said.
“I just started on the treadmill. It feels so good to run again.”
“I’m going insane not being able to run.”
“Least you can’t chase after my brother, then.”
“Shut up.”
Ashton perked up. “Is X coming tonight?”
Tiny set the beer can on the table and grabbed Ashton by the shoulders. “Ash, I want you to listen closely. Stay away from Xavier.”
Ashton spun, her auburn braid hitting Tiny in the face. “Sure thing, Kade.”
She forced her way through the packed living room, heading for the most logical place to find X: the poker table. She frowned when she saw that he wasn’t there but Mick, the cop, was.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a beer behind your back, would you?” Mick said, glancing at her from behind his cards. His buzzed hair looked like a torch above his police uniform, which he was still wearing since he had come straight from working a twelve hour shift. Ashton didn’t dislike Mick, but she was uncomfortable around a police officer. The allure of the poker table eluded her. In a group of mixed sexes she couldn’t figure why a bunch of guys would cluster around a table to take each other’s coins. To the best of her memory though Mick had never had a girlfriend, probably because of how seriously he took his job.
Strays Page 25