“I’ll admit,” Miranda said, “some of it gave me pause. Especially the thing about the deserters that attacked you in Boise City. But honestly, I’ve heard of people doing worse. Much worse. And I’m not so innocent myself. People do what they have to do to survive. I know I’ve done some pretty messed up things since the Outbreak.”
“That’s different. The Free Legion-”
“I’m not talking about the Legion.”
Caleb met her eyes. She looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t have to. Ever.”
Miranda rolled onto her back. “I might someday, just not today. I’m not ready.”
“Well, when you are …”
A smile. “You were right about what you said before, Caleb. The past doesn’t matter. I still love you. Some of the things you told me … I’ll need some time to process. But as far as you and me, we’re good. I’m glad you shared with me, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about all of it. Fair enough?”
He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Fair enough.”
“And about Sophia and your daughter … I’m so sorry, Caleb. No one should have to go through that.”
Caleb sat up in bed and stared out the window. Across the street, a man stepped out of his trailer and began walking toward the north gate, a tool belt hanging from his right hand. “Miranda, so many people have lost children since the Outbreak it’ll be a wonder if the human race survives at all.”
He felt her move behind him and slip her arms around his chest. “We will. Somehow, one way or another, we’ll find a way. And if we don’t, there’s no one else I’d rather live out the end of the world with.”
EPILOGUE
“I’ll give you one thing, you’re a hustler,” Caleb said. “How you convinced Captain Harlow to let you come along with us, I’ll never guess.”
Eric Riordan grinned. Hicks sat beside him, the truck they rode in following behind an Abrams battle tank heading northeast toward Kentucky. As usual, he had fallen in with Delta Squad. Behind them, visible through the canopy’s aperture, lay Hollow Rock. In another half-mile or so, they would be too far away to see it.
“I prefer to think of myself as a taker of carefully measured risks,” Eric said. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and all that.”
“Keep spouting clichés and it’s gonna be a hell of a long ride. How’d your wife take the news about you coming with us?”
Eric’s smile faltered. His wife, who until a short while ago had been the town’s only medical doctor, had not taken the news well at all. He thought about the baby growing inside her, his first child, and wondered if he was doing the right thing.
“About as well as can be expected,” he lied.
Caleb shot him a look from the corner of his eye, but did not press. “What about Gabriel? When there’s trouble afoot, you two are never far apart.”
“He’s in the command vehicle with Captain Harlow. You believe that shit?”
Caleb laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
Eric heard the distinctive thrum of a Chinook fly overhead, followed by the lighter drone of an Apache Longbow attack helicopter. The Apache was to leapfrog the convoy and land far ahead of them, close to where they would be meeting up with Task Force Falcon. The Chinook carried troops tasked with protecting the Apache while it was on the ground.
For a significant portion of the ride to Kentucky, the convoy would be without air support. Eric was not worried. First Platoon rode in the company of an Abrams, two Bradleys, several Humvees equipped with heavy machine guns, and two big green HEMMTs carrying their gear. If that was not enough to handle whatever lay in their path, they were all dead men anyway.
Eric sat up when he heard a thundering boom from somewhere in the distance ahead. He looked around, confused, as it was followed by the piercing sound of something approaching and descending at incredible speed. Beside him, Caleb’s eyes went wide.
He drew a breath and shouted, “INCOMING!”
The soldiers around them echoed the cry as they ducked and covered. Eric felt the truck’s brakes lock and the sound of gravel rattling against metal as it went into a controlled skid. He could not see for the press of bodies around him, but heard several booms and felt a series of hard vibrations thump his chest through the bed of the truck. In a flash of panic, he remembered a stretch of road not far from where he lay and the crack-BOOM of a LAW rocket detonating less than two-hundred yards away. The hollow feeling in his chest was nearly identical.
“What the hell was that?” he shouted.
“Get out of the truck!” Caleb answered. “Move!”
Several more thunder claps echoed, followed by more thumps to the chest. To his right, he heard Ethan Thompson shouting at his men, and then was hauled to his feet and dragged along.
“Come on!” Caleb shouted. “Run!”
He hopped to the ground and followed the other men of First Platoon. They sprinted in the direction of the treeline, trying to get as far away from the truck as possible. As he ran, Eric spared a glance over his shoulder and nearly skidded to a halt. Had Caleb not been there, he would have reversed direction and ran back toward his home as fast as he could.
“Eric, come on! We have to move!”
Caleb’s iron fingers gripped his arm and dragged him along. Eric picked up his pace and felt tears sting his eyes as he looked away from the main gate. Please God, don’t let anything happen to Allison.
In the distance, Hollow Rock was in flames.
The saga continues in Surviving The Dead Volume 5: Savages.
Coming soon …
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Also by James N. Cook:
Surviving the Dead series:
No Easy Hope
This Shattered Land
Warrior Within
The Passenger
Fire In Winter
About the Author:
James N. Cook (who prefers to be called Jim, even though his wife insists on calling him James) is a martial arts enthusiast, a veteran of the U.S. Navy, a former cubicle dweller, and the author of the Surviving the Dead series. He hikes, he goes camping, he travels a lot, and he has trouble staying in one place for very long. He lives in North Carolina (for now) with his wife, son, two vicious attack dogs, and a cat that is scarcely aware of his existence.
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE DARKEST PLACE: A SURVIVING THE DEAD NOVEL. Copyright © 2015 By James N. Cook. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author and Amazon.com.
FIRST EDITION
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Epub Edition ©JANUARY 2015