THE HELL THAT FOLLOWS
THE GOOD, THE DEAD, AND THE LAWLESS, BOOK 2
Copyright © 2019 by Angelique Archer. All rights reserved.
Cover design © by Contagious Covers. All rights reserved.
Formatting by Kody Boye Publishing Services.
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 permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
A Note from the Author
About the Author
Foreword
The wait is over! I know many of you were anticipating this book for quite some time, and I want to thank you for your patience. The last couple of years have been incredibly full and busy, wonderfully so, with my marriage and the start of my dream career, but I had to put this story on the backburner for a bit. Now that it’s finished, I am so excited for you to continue this wild ride through the apocalypse with these characters. I hope you love the story as much as I do.
A big thank you to all of my amazing beta readers who provided invaluable insight and helpful recommendations!
This particular book is dedicated to my husband. Thank you for your steady patience, loving encouragement, and fresh creativity as I wove this story together! I love you, now and always.
Prologue
Dallas, Texas
The afternoon started with a party in my honor...
“Today I’d like to make a toast to Miss Kennedy Rae Mitchell, my ass-kicking sister who’s been protecting our sorry behinds for nearly fifteen years.” Matt Mitchell tilted his drink to his redheaded sister.
Kennedy grinned and raised her beer toward him appreciatively. “It’s been a lot longer than just fifteen years,” she called out. “I still remember jumping in to save you when you were getting your pipsqueak ass beat up nice and good by the neighborhood kids.”
“Dang it, Red,” Matt shook his head and wagged a finger at her. “You never miss an opportunity to bring that up. Anyways,” he said, turning to address everyone, “a big, warm welcome back to our favorite redhead.” Laughter mingled with the sound of cups clanking together in celebration.
Kennedy winked at him before scooping up her little nephew, Oliver, who also sported the family’s trademark red hair. “How is it that you keep getting bigger every time I see you?” she whispered in his ear before tickling him. He giggled and squirmed, twisting out of her grasp.
She leaned back in the plastic lawn chair and reveled in the fact that she had two full weeks of leave to enjoy with her family. It had been a long tour in Afghanistan, and Kennedy was tired and worn out.
“Can I get you a plate, girl?”
Kennedy shaded her eyes from the warm Texas sunshine and looked up. Her brother’s very pregnant wife, Cheyenne, smiled down at her.
“Nah, I’m good, babe. If anything, I should be asking you that.” Kennedy looked around and didn’t see any lawn chairs available. She quickly got out of her seat and offered it to Cheyenne. “Here.”
Cheyenne waved her away and pulled her hair into a messy bun. “I’ve been sitting on my butt watching ‘Friends’ reruns and reading Cosmo for almost a month now. If this baby doesn’t get here soon, I might lose my mind.” She rubbed her belly tiredly. “He’s stubborn and doesn’t want to come out. Life must be good in there.”
Kennedy chuckled. “Yeah, no job, no bills, no terrible commute to work... I’d trade places with him real quick.” She stretched and gestured to the tables packed with food and the colorful “Welcome Home” banner with balloons behind her. “Thanks so much for organizing this.”
Cheyenne leaned down and hugged her tightly. “Of course, girlie. We’re just glad to have you here safe and sound. We’re always worrying about you, especially your brother.” She rested her hand on her stomach. “Hopefully this little guy will make an appearance before you head back so he can meet his awesome auntie.” She fanned herself a little. “This heat… You’d never know it was October.” She raised her hand over her eyes so she could see Kennedy better. “How’s the dating situation? You have anyone new in your life?”
Kennedy laughed and took a long swig from her beer. “Hardly.”
“Well, I’m sure there’s at least plenty of eye candy then. I always think of Channing Tatum in ‘Dear John.’ I love your brother, but damn, girl. Channing Tatum would be a tough one to turn down.”
The redhead smiled. “Just know that if I happen to meet a Channing Tatum over in Afghanistan, you’ll be the first to find out.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before Cheyenne hurried off to make sure Oliver wasn’t getting himself into trouble. Kennedy stood and placed her Nike jacket on her chair so she wouldn’t lose her seat, then made her way over to the tables of food.
Her sister-in-law was quite the party planner. She’d ordered buckets of barbecue and Parmesan garlic wings from Buffalo Wild Wings, made giant heaping bowls of her famous potato salad, set Matt to work the grill with dozens of hamburgers and brats, baked enough brownies to put the Girl Scouts to shame, and laid out glass pitchers of lemonade with fresh berries floating along the surface. There were three large coolers full of beer, and Kennedy had already helped herself to more than a few. Country music blared loudly from the speakers throughout the backyard, and kids were splashing around in the pool. The sun was hot and felt delicious against her skin. It was the best welcome home she could have hoped for, and she knew the Marines would have a tough time getting her back after this round of leave.
Kennedy was pushing aside the meaty wings on her plate to make room for the potato salad when she paused, her fingers hovering over the serving spoon.
She jerked her head to the side, toward the neighbor’s house.
Matt’s best friend, Jimmy, was beside her and looked at her questioningly. “You okay, K-Rae?”
“Did ya hear that?” she asked him.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Hear what?”
Kennedy swallowed hard. “Screaming.”
“All I’ve heard for the last hour is screaming. Kids screaming in the new pool. Kids screaming with water guns. Kids screaming to get a brownie. Endless screaming. I reckon I’m gonna have to pop a few Tylenol by the time I leave here.” He shoved a fudge brownie into his mouth and reached down for a fresh beer.
Matt came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Jimmy hitting on you again, Red? When is he gonna learn that you aren’t going to say yes?”
Jimmy laughed. “I gave up on d
ating your sister a long time ago, man.”
Kennedy’s worried expression didn’t fade. Matt noticed and turned her to face him. “You okay?”
She blinked and looked up at him. “Sorry, Matt. I just thought I heard something.”
He glanced around. “Yeah?”
Kennedy moved away from the table so the others in line didn’t hear her and set her plate down on a plastic chair. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed. “I thought I heard screaming.”
Matt reached out and squeezed her hand. “I can’t imagine what you’ve seen over there, Red. I don’t pretend to know. And there isn’t a day that goes by where I’m not worrying about you.”
She looped her hair into a ponytail and pushed some stray strands behind her ears, trying hard not to think about the chaos she had seen while stationed in the Middle East all those years. Today, she didn’t have her handgun, which normally stayed tight to her side, a decision that should have made her relax and finally enjoy her leave, but all of a sudden left her feeling vulnerable and unprotected.
Still, she didn’t want her brother to see her upset. This was a party he and Cheyenne had thrown in her honor after all.
“I must be hearing things,” she said finally, forcing a smile. When the concern didn’t vanish from his expression, she pointed over to her nephew. “You’d better go get him. He’s eatin’ dirt again.”
Matt’s head turned so fast she thought it would snap, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “This freaking kid... Oliver Nathan Mitchell! Get that crap out of your mouth right now!” he yelled before running over to his three year-old.
Kennedy lifted her plate and went back to her chair. Her brows furrowed in concern as she scanned the backyard.
“Girl, get it together. You’re on vacation,” she murmured to herself before shaking her head and reaching for her fork. She scooped a large bite of potato salad into her mouth just as Jimmy came to sit down beside her.
He had two beers in his right hand and held them out to her. “Figured you could use ‘em both, ya lush.”
“You sure know how to flatter me, brother,” she said with a smirk.
Jimmy winced. “You know, I used to hate when you’d call me that. I was madly in love with you for, like, twenty-five years.”
She took a swig of her beer and raised an eyebrow. “That long? Damn. I feel ancient.”
Jimmy nodded. “Tell me about it. Seeing all these young-ins running around... and now my best friend is going to be a father of two...” He squinted and looked at her. “Makes me think I need to get a move on with this whole ‘adulting’ thing.”
“If you think it’s hard to start a family as a civ, imagine how I feel being married to the Corps the last fifteen years. It’s next to impossible, especially when they keep shipping you off.” She took another sip and slouched down in her chair, slipping off her flip-flops and resting her legs on the cooler in front of her.
“That’s what you get for being a top-notch gunnery sergeant.” In spite of himself, Jimmy couldn’t help but notice Kennedy’s form-fitting t-shirt and cut-off jean shorts. “We’re all real proud of you back home, and your guys must love you. Why don’t you settle down with one of them?”
Kennedy scoffed at him. “You kidding me? I feel like their mother. Most of ‘em are fresh out of high school.”
“Well, me and you, we’ve known each other for—”
“Twenty-five years,” she interrupted. “If you keep reminding me how old we are, I’m going to smack you.” She lifted the cold beer bottle to her neck to cool off. “You were one of me and Matt’s first friends here after we moved from Colorado.”
“That’s right. I remember my parents telling me to go over and welcome y’all. I kept thinking Matt seemed alright, but I didn’t want to play with the gangly, crazy-haired girl because she had cooties.” They both laughed, and Kennedy swatted a mosquito off of her leg.
Jimmy took off his baseball cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Later on, I came to realize that you were okay in my book though, for a girl,” he added, putting emphasis on the last word so that she rolled her eyes at him. “No, for real, all jokes aside. You weren’t scared of dumb shit like spiders or playing outside and getting dirty. I remember when I gave you a bloody nose by accident during a football game with the neighborhood kids, and you didn’t go running home crying to your mama. You shrugged it off and walked back on the field. I just stood there absolutely wowed. You were cooler than most of the boys. I should have told you that more often.”
She smiled. “Well, thanks, Jim.”
One of the kids cannon-balled into the pool, spraying them both with water. Kennedy yelped and put her hands over her precious plate of food. “I swear, if these wings taste like chlorine...”
Jimmy licked his finger and rested his plate on the ground. “So protective over your food. You’d trade your own brother in for a slice of pizza. I guess much hasn’t changed. And besides, it’s probably a heck of a lot better than that slop you were eating in Afghanistan.”
They both stopped talking when Matt crawled by on all fours with Oliver riding his back, squealing in delight when Matt reared back every now and again pretending to be a horse.
“Look at him. He loves being a dad,” Jimmy remarked.
Kennedy nodded in agreement.
He glanced at her sideways. “You know… Even though you were always cool, I didn’t notice that you were a total babe until you were a sophomore in high school tanning outside with your friends. Me and Matt and the other guys would watch y’all from Matt’s room. Matt would be watching the other girls and would get pissed when the rest of us were focusing on his sister.”
Kennedy turned to him and made a face. “Now you’re wading into creepy territory, buddy.” She shook her head disbelievingly and pretended to shiver. “But seriously, y’all used to do that?”
Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “Hell yes, we did. What do you think teenage boys do? That scenario right there is like a dream come true for them. Matt liked one of your friends, that blonde one—”
“Michaela,” Kennedy interjected, remembering. “He used to make me help him write love letters to her, poetry and other cornball stuff.”
“Matt and his poetry. You ain’t gonna catch me writing that garbage. But hey, it did win him Cheyenne so I can’t knock it too much.” They both sat in silence for a moment until Jimmy cleared his throat awkwardly. “But back then, all I could see was you. You guys would take off your tops, lie on your stomachs, and tan, and I remember plotting with the guys how to get y’all to jump up so we could see your—”
Kennedy smacked him. “Come on, man; that’s gross!”
Jimmy chuckled. “I’m just telling you. That’s what teenage boys think about, you just take my word on that.” He finished the last of his beer and threw the bottle into the trashcan. Leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head. “You remember that time you kissed me during senior year?”
Kennedy’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, Lord. You mean after I’d gone to Katie-Ann’s Christmas party? I’d been drunk as hell that night.”
“Yeah, but it was still the best kiss ever. You’re welcome.” He looked away smugly.
“Hardly!” Kennedy punched him in the arm, but couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re killing me here, Jim.”
“You don’t remember anything? We went downstairs to that closet in your parents’ basement.”
Burying her face in her hands, her back shook with laughter. “It’s a memory I try hard to forget.”
He scratched his chin contemplatively. “Let’s just make a pact here and now, alright? If we aren’t married in five years, we’ll just say to hell with it and run off to Vegas together.” He held his hand out to her.
Kennedy looked at him skeptically. “Vegas, eh? Don’t get too romantic on me now.”
“Five years,” he said again.
She chewed on her lip and then smiled, extending her hand to meet his. Almost
as quickly, her smile disappeared from her lips, and she stiffened and stared straight ahead. “Who are they?” she asked, nodding at the figures in the distance.
Jimmy followed her gaze.
A man and two children were crossing over from the adjoining yard.
He shrugged and looked away. “Probably some more of Matt’s neighbor friends. He and Chey invited the near world.”
At first, his answer satisfied her. She relaxed a bit, but continued to observe them. Jimmy went on about their newfound pact, but Kennedy wasn’t really listening anymore. Even though the temperature was warm, goosebumps peppered her skin.
The man walked with a limp. At first this wouldn’t have garnered her attention in the slightest, but then she noticed that the two children following him shared the same gait. They were also cutting through Cheyenne’s carefully manicured flowerbeds without a care in the world, callously trampling the delicate daisies and begonias, the soft petals smashed into the dirt beneath their shoes.
Her uncle was playing with Oliver in a sandbox near the flowerbeds. He had traveled over six hours just to celebrate her homecoming. When the stranger lifted his arm and made a bee-line for them, Kennedy stood up, not caring when her plate of food fell off her lap and onto the dirt.
It was then that she caught sight of the heinous wound on the side of the newcomer’s neck and the dark streams of blood dripping from the boys’ arms.
Something was very wrong.
Before she could react, the man dove forward onto her uncle, knocking him to the ground. Oliver had been sitting on his shoulders and was flung into the flowerbed upon impact. The wounded man covered her uncle with his body, then leaned down and buried his face in her uncle’s neck. The stranger rocked violently back and forth, the older man’s limbs thrashing and quivering beneath him.
The Good, The Dead & The Lawless (Book 2): The Hell That Follows Page 1