The Renegade

by Amy Dunne

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Praise for Amy Dunne

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  In this post-apocalyptic world, you have a choice: survive as a slave or fight for your freedom.

  The Red Death pandemic wiped out most of the human population, and the world that remains is dangerous and unforgiving. Survivor Alex Clarke and her companions are rescued after a vicious attack and welcomed into the Rapture’s Haven Camp. Although given medical treatment, food, shelter, and protection, Alex senses something sinister lurking beneath the camp’s friendly exterior.

  Camp medic Evelyn Bennett is instinctively drawn to Alex and warns her that the camp is a dangerous cult and the women are slaves. While planning to escape, their secret relationship is discovered. Escape is no longer possible. They must fight for their freedom—or die trying.

  Praise for Amy Dunne

  Season’s Meetings

  “This is a winner. Seasonally spectacular! I heartily recommend this gem and revel in the wonder that accompanies this last month of the year. Luminously entertaining and heartwarming!”—Rainbow Book Reviews

  “Amy Dunne’s second novel, Season’s Meetings, reinforces the writing skills and storytelling ability we saw in her Goldie winning first novel, Secret Lies. This is a gentler, easier read, without the YA angst and issues of abuse and self-harm, falling solidly into the Traditional Romance category. But that doesn’t detract at all from how good a wordsmith Ms Dunne is. Thoroughly enjoyable reading, a great Christmas present and a well-done second novel that firmly establishes Amy Dunne as a talent to be watched.”—Lesbian Reading Room

  Season’s Meetings “is utterly charming. I adored every moment of it and highly recommend it.…And Amy Dunne is an author to keep an eye on in the future.”—The Lesbian Review

  Secret Lies

  “I’m impressed at how well Dunne balances the darker story lines against the burgeoning romance between the two main characters to produce a remarkably good first novel…Dunne captures the intensity of first love, weaving in all the overwhelming wonder and joy as well as the doubts and fears of coming out. Dunne has created characters that feel real and easy for the reader to connect with.”—C-Spot Reviews

  “When a book makes me laugh with intensity and can also bring me to tears, I stand up and take notice!”—Rainbow Book Reviews

  “This is Amy Dunne’s debut book and she is off to a flying start in the world of lesbian fiction. She’s shown she can pen a good book on extremely difficult topics. Abuse, self harm, homophobia and two inexperienced young women embarking on their first lesbian romance together, comprises just a small part of this well written and researched story.”—Terry’s Lesfic Reviews

  “This is an excellent and enthralling first novel. Amy Dunne has caught the mood of 17-year-old emotions and experience brilliantly. On the one hand it is a tale of young adults emerging and exploring, with all the angst and melodrama that entails. On the other it is a serious exploration of both abuse and self-harm and the impact they have on these girls’ internal and public lives.”—Lesbian Reading Room

  “Secret Lies by Amy Dunne is a lesbian romance where you will find all the ingredients that make a wonderful story. Characters with whom you can relate on, difficult situations which are real and moving, and the promise of a happy ending for those who are courageous enough to fight for what they want…Amy Dunne surprised me with her characters, the perfect balance between dark and light scenes and the beautiful message based on self-respect, courage and how love can save you from the deeper abysms only if you’re willing to take risks. Thanks for a wonderful journey!”—Lesbian Fiction Reviews

  The Renegade

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  The Renegade

  © 2015 By Amy Dunne. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-453-7

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: September 2015

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Lynda Sandoval and Stacia Seaman

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Gabrielle Pendergrast

  By the Author

  Secret Lies

  Season’s Meetings

  The Renegade

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank everyone at BSB for their hard work and unwavering support. A special thanks to Radclyffe and Sandy for making my dream of becoming a published author a reality. Sheri, for all of the amazing book covers. Lynda Sandoval, for showing infinite patience with me once again. A big thanks to Stacia Seaman for all of her hard work on this novel and Season’s Meetings. Cindy, Connie, Ruth, Toni, Victoria, and everyone else who works tirelessly behind the scenes.

  I’m blessed to have wonderful friends the whole world over. I appreciate your support and the laughs we share, Rai Veransson, Leigh Ann Britt, Melissa Marlyn Moir, KT Jones, Carl Sonnen, Chelsea Slater, Sarah Bridget Kerry, Jenny Page, Elizabeth Fisher, and Nicki Hastie.

  Once again, I have to express how fortunate I am to have such an incredibly supportive and loving family. Mum, Dad, Anna, Luke, Mama Margaret, Grandad Eammon, Sue, Jake, Louis, Chrissie, and Gloria. Thank you for coming to support me at book events and eagerly reading my books. I really appreciate everything you do for me.

  To the readers, it means so much that you’re prepared to embark on yet another adventure with my characters. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. And for those of you who have taken the time to reach out to contact me and share your thoughts, you’ve brightened my days. Thank you. Without you, writing would be pointless.

  And finally, I’d like to thank my beautiful wife, Lou, for having the patience of a saint. Whenever I’m ready to quit, you give me the strength to carry on. Through the good and difficult times, I’ll remain by your side. I love you with my heart, body, mind, and soul. For always.

  Lou, thank you for being my wife, best friend, and soul mate. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.

  And together, we’ll make our dreams come true.

  I love you for alway
s.

  In loving memory of Paddy, our first German shepherd,

  and Harley, our beautiful cat. Both of our boys crossed over the rainbow bridge far too young. May you have endless treats, cuddles, toys, and love until we’re with you again.

  Chapter One

  Alex Clarke tried to keep her composure, afraid that if her true emotions surfaced they would only add to her dad’s suffering. She bit down painfully on her tongue, silencing the hysteria clawing up her throat. A hot trickle of coppery blood was enough to keep her screams at bay.

  She watched as her dad suffered yet another violent coughing fit, his gaunt face contorted with pain as he struggled to catch each labouring breath. The rattling sound from his chest had grown louder. His bulky frame was misleading, as his body was helplessly weak and frail. His clothes were saturated with sweat and bloody mucus. A thick layer of perspiration coated his skin, while his body shivered as the raging fever continued to ravage him.

  Alex looked away. She knew he hated her to see him so weak. In truth, he no longer resembled the strong and powerful protector of their family. The anguish of remembering him as the gentle giant who’d taught her how to ride a bike, told exciting bedtime stories, and taken her on adventures hurt more than she’d believed possible.

  As an only child, she’d never wanted for anything or been lonely. The three of them had been content and happy with their little family unit. Her parents wholeheartedly supported her in whatever she’d endeavoured to do. At sixteen, she’d finally gathered enough courage to tell them she was a lesbian and they’d accepted her without judgment. In later years, her partner Dianne had been warmly welcomed into their family, and for eighteen months they’d all been happy together.

  Things had been perfect.

  The perfect days they shared had turned into perfect months and had passed by quickly. In the blink of an eye, all hell broke loose. Within months, everything had gone to shit. Everyone and everything she loved, except for her dad, was gone. Soon he’d leave her, too.

  She sensed the coughing fit subside and reluctantly returned her gaze to him. Besides herself, he was the only living person that remained.

  “You’ve everything packed…like I showed you?” he asked, his voice nothing more than an audible rasp.

  “Yes.” She grimaced at the pain it caused him to speak.

  He gave a weak nod and his gaze met hers for a fleeting second before she looked away. The familiar blue rings of his eyes were set against the startling red backdrop that had once been white. Although his eyes had been this way for two days now, she still found it impossible to bear. The cause of the unnatural red eyes hadn’t been properly explained. It’d been listed as one of the main symptoms of the strain. She guessed it probably had something to do with the pressure caused from the violent coughing. Regardless of its cause, it was another indicator of the final stages of the Red Death. The sensational name was first used by the media, and by the time scientists had come up with an official name for it, the Red Death had already stuck.

  She’d witnessed its devastating course from beginning until end twice before—first with Dianne, then only days later, with her mum. She was certain her dad was in the last and most horrific stages. Worse still was the knowledge there was nothing she could do to help or even mildly relieve his suffering.

  He coughed again and thick bloody mucus, more black than red, spilt down his chin. With a trembling hand, he wiped himself with his soiled cloth.

  Alex fought hard against the urge to heave and clenched her hands into painfully tight fists. Her nails cut into her palms, verging on breaking the skin. Hysteria stalked close to the brink again, and she mustered what little resolve she had left to swallow it down.

  “Your mum and I love you—” Another coughing fit cut him off. The pain was obvious, but a few moments later, he continued, “You’re destined for something big, Alex. I’ve known it since the day I held you in the hospital. I’m just sorry I can’t be with you.”

  A searing lump of emotion lodged in her throat. She forced her words over it. “I’m destined to die like Dianne, Mum, and the rest of the world. In a few days, I’ll start with the symptoms.”

  He shook his head. Pink tears tainted with blood streamed from his burgundy eyes. “You’re immune.”

  She glared defiantly and tried to swallow, but the lump made her wince. Boiling tears welled in her eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. Just because you’ve always said I was your miracle baby doesn’t mean I’m immune to this. You only started with it a few days ago.”

  “I was lucky to last this long. It allowed me to teach you how to survive. I’m ready to be with your mum and Dianne. There isn’t time to go over this again.” Another coughing fit tore through his body, crippling him with pain.

  Alex couldn’t hold back the tears. “I don’t want to be alone. I can’t go on without you. I can’t…I’m not this special person you think I am. I’m just me.”

  “Alexandra,” he said, his lips and teeth coated with rank blood. “You will go on. You swore to me on your mum’s and Dianne’s graves that you would go when I told you to and never come back. We didn’t raise you to be a liar or a coward.”

  She felt like a berated child, which made her sobbing worse. “Dad…please—”

  “Promise me again, now.” His voice was raspy and disjointed because of his shallow breathing, but she still heard his steel determination. He wouldn’t back down.

  In desperation she tried to get him to see sense. “I’ve nowhere to go. And I need to look after you—”

  He lifted a weak hand, immediately silencing her. “I don’t need looking after. There’s nothing you can do for me. You know it. You’re not going to watch me turn into a corpse.”

  Alex knelt before him. “I need to be with you until the end. I can’t just leave you. I won’t do it.”

  “We went through this with Dianne and your mum. We both know what happens in the end. Soon, I won’t even know you’re here.”

  “But I have to bury you with Mum.”

  He sighed, which turned into another coughing fit. When it lessened he whispered, “I’ve made my own plans. This pathetic excuse for a body is nothing more than a slab of rotting meat. Burying it is pointless. Your mother and I will be reunited in whatever comes after this life. Now, promise me that you will go on living and never return.”

  Alex couldn’t speak. The words were stuck behind the lump that choked her.

  “Please?” He reached out and gently held one of her hands. “Promise me.”

  His huge hand felt clammy as it trembled in hers. His desperation was so urgent and intense, it was claustrophobically palpable.

  “I won’t come back here,” she said, swiping tears away. “I promise.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. “Thank you. Now take your things and leave. You’ll need to find somewhere away from the town to set up camp before dark. Try to remember everything I’ve taught you. Keep your wits sharp and avoid people.”

  “Everyone’s dead!” She felt guilty for shouting, but her frustration and anger at their situation was too much. “We haven’t seen anyone in weeks. Months even.”

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re still alive and there will be other survivors. Everything’s changed now. Survival and self-preservation will rule people’s minds and hearts. You must be wary, sweetheart. Now, please pass me my box.” He indicated to the silver box resting on the coffee table.

  Her stomach lurched as she got to her feet and picked it up. Inside was his Beretta handgun. She had the exact same model upstairs. They’d spent many hours practicing with them in recent weeks. Confused, she offered the box out. He’d emptied the fifteen-round magazine the previous day, ordering her to pack it with the rest of her ammunition.

  “Thank you. Your mum and I couldn’t have loved you any more even if we’d tried. We’re so proud of you. We’ll be with you, watching every step. You’ve got to be brave. It’s going to be hard, really hard, but I know
you’ll make it.”

  Unable to speak, she tried to convey everything she felt and wanted to say in the fierce hug she gave him. His fevered flesh shook beneath her touch. She could already smell the familiar sickly sweet and pungent stench that came with the last stages. He didn’t have long.

  “I love you,” she said, choking through muffled sobs.

  “I love you, too. Now leave me.” His voice strained trying to remain strong and commanding.

  She held on all the tighter, not ready to let go of him. When she did finally pull away, she refused to meet his eyes. She’d be strong for him. She’d gather her things, leave, and then when she was far enough away, she’d allow herself to break down. But not one second before, because she was brave, just like her dad.

  She went to her room and checked everything one final time. It was hard to resist the urge to take more. Her bag was packed solid and heavy. But as she longingly surveyed the room, she saw photos and other sentimental belongings that she’d always taken for granted. Every single one of those items now seemed invaluable.

  She laced her boots with trembling hands, shouldered her large rucksack, the weight pinning her. She slung the shotgun over her left shoulder and checked the gun holster on her right hip. Her own handgun was safely in place. She adjusted the leather sheath attached to her belt, allowing her fingertips to briefly caress the familiar smooth hilt of the six-inch hunting knife. In theory, she was ready to leave. The stark realization that she was ignorant and unprepared for what lay ahead was enough to physically paralyze her.