Rise From The Ashes: The Rebirth of San Antonio (Countdown to Armageddon Book 3) (27 page)

     “I know, Dad. It’s just that…”

     Zachary stopped talking momentarily, and Scott thought he’d lost the signal.

     But Zachary merely got distracted, his finger still on the microphone key.

     And simultaneously, Scott heard several things come over the radio’s speakers.

     He heard Joyce yelling, “Oh, my God! We’re being attacked!”

     He heard Linda say, “They’re coming in through the corn field. Sarah, get the kids to the basement.”

     And, most ominously, he heard the sound of automatic gunfire, just before Zachary released the microphone key.

     Then, nothing but dead air.

     The war had begun.   

Thank you for reading

RISE FROM THE ASHES

THE REBIRTH OF
SAN ANTONIO

Please enjoy this preview of the next installment in the series,

COUNTDOWN TO ARMAGEDDON, BOOK 4

AN UNDECLARED
WAR

     The group had planned for a lot of things when they built the compound. They’d provided for electrical power from more than one source. They’d provided for multiple sources of food to nourish them, and clean water to sustain them.

     The one thing they didn’t plan for was the need to bury any of their own.

     Perhaps subconsciously they just didn’t want to think about the possibility. Or maybe it was just an oversight. The one thing for sure was that everyone was hurting.

     It just wasn’t supposed to be this way.

     Tom said nothing as he dug the grave in the back corner of the compound. It was
just his way.

     He’d always
done his mourning in silence. When he lost his father, as a teenager. Then a few years later when his mother gave up and passed on as well. In both cases, Tom retreated within himself and sobbed tears that only he could hear. Tom also lost a brother to the ravages of war in Vietnam. He attended a funeral service without shedding a single tear, or saying a single word. When it was over, he walked away and never looked back. He’d never been to his brother’s grave since.

     It was a peculiar way of grieving, but it was what it was. It was just his way.

     The body was wrapped in pure white linen sheets and gently laid on the living room couch. The others gathered around, sometimes one at a time, and sometimes in small groups, weeping and asking why.

     They had no answers.

     Halfway through the grave digging detail, Jordan appeared at the top of the hole and called down to Tom.

     “I’ll take over now, Tom, if you’ll build a casket. You’re better t
han I am at that sort of thing.

     “I’ll dig the other grave too when I’m done. I got a lot more sleep than you did."

     Tom looked up at Jordan and it occurred to him that this would be a fine man. Was in fact already turning into one. And he admired Jordan for putting his own grief aside to help do the distasteful things that no one wanted to do, but which had to be done.

     So Tom climbed out of the hole and shared a brief hug, but nary a word, with the man-child. He handed him the shovel and plodded off to the workshop.

     The casket was nothing remarkable, made of mere plywood over a two by four frame. He’d stained it to give it some color, and used a soldering iron to burn a simple cross on the lid. All in all, it was a pitiful tribute to honor such a magnificent life. But it would have to do.

     The finished product, exactly six and a half feet long and thirty inches wide
, would fit snugly into the grave. God’s earth itself would hug the soul as the body very slowly turned to dust.

     Hannah searched through the computer files that Joyce and Linda had saved from the internet before the world went black, until she found what she was searching for. A file full of old church hymns.

     She printed out several copies of
Amazing Grace
and
Shall We Gather at the River
, and the group sang the hymns together at the graveside ceremony. All except for Hannah, who stood watch at the monitors in case the evil came back to do more damage.

     In the end, it was a fitting, if not fancy, tribute to a wonderful human being. One the group would miss horribly.

     But life marches on. As she stood at the graveside trying her best to suppress her tears, young Sara held her sleeping baby, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and disrupt the tender moment.

     And Sara couldn’t help but wonder how many more of their own they would bury before the world became a safe place again. Before man stopped thinking he had the right to take what belonged to others, at the end of a gun.

COUNTDOWN TO ARMAGEDDON, BOOK 4

AN UNDECLARED WAR

will be available on Amazon.com and through Barnes and Noble Booksellers in August 2014.

*************************

If you enjoyed

RISE FROM THE ASHES

THE REBIRTH OF
SAN ANTONIO

You might also enjoy

FINAL DAWN

Available now at Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble Booksellers.

*************************

     What would you do if you finally found the love of your life, and were making plans to spend eternity together - and then found out that eternity was only two years? Mark is a romantic and carefree young engineer, and a bit of a cornball. His beloved Hannah is a beautiful scientist. Pragmatic, intelligent and analytical, she longs for the family she never had, and a change from her horrific childhood. Mark offers that change, and her life is finally complete.

    
Then Hannah discovers that mankind is doomed. Suddenly their lives become a mad scramble, to find a way to save themselves and everyone they love.

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An excerpt from “Final Dawn: Escape From Armageddon”…

    Sometimes the gods of fate smile upon you, and bestow on you a treasure of such magnitude, such wonder, that you pinch yourself over and over until you finally believe it’s really real.

     And sometimes those same gods bestow upon you a bowl of smelly, steaming crap.

     They seldom do both within the same week.

     Mark Snyder finished the breaker box tie in just before losing his daylight. He’d been working in an empty house for days, all alone in his thoughts. He hated jobs like this. No one to talk to, no other voices to listen to, other than the ones in his head. The house was only about eighty percent complete. Not far enough along yet to have power.

     The electricians were supposed to button everything up by the end of the week. And yes, he could have waited until then to start installing the security system. But he had several other jobs going on at once, and he was trying to maintain his good reputation for coming in on time. So while most people would have taken Sunday off to watch the ball game and relax, he was here instead installing security cameras.

     He’d come back on Saturday and check all the cameras to make sure they were working, then install the operations console.

     But for now, he’d done everything he could do without electricity. He loaded his tools back into his Explorer and headed home. Enough is enough.

     Mark picked up his cell and called Hannah.

     “Hey, Babe. I’m on my way. Is the game still on?”

     “Hi, honey,” she said. “No, it’s over, but you’ll be proud of me. I recorded it for you so you can watch it when you get home. The Cowboys lost at the last second when
Washington kicked a field goal.”

     Mark winced and bit his lip. He resisted the urge to tell her it’s not so much fun watching a close game when you know how it turns out.

     Instead, he praised her. Because after all, she was the light of his life and the best thing that ever happened to him.

     “Well, thank you, my love.” He said. “Are you trying to out-sweet me again?”

     Hannah replied “Nope. Not trying. I won that contest a long time ago. I just wanted to show you how much I love you.”

     She went on. “If you want some beer you’ll have to stop and get some. Bryan came by to watch the game with you. I told him you were working and he asked if we had some beer. I told him to check the fridge. He took all we had and left. Said if we weren’t going to watch the game, then we wouldn’t need it. He said he’d take it to someone who had the game on.

     “How did you manage to grow up with him without ever killing him?”

     Mark laughed. “Because he was the baby of the family and Mom always took his side. If I had killed him she’d have grounded me for at least a week, maybe two. But I thought about it many times.”

     He made a mental note to find a way to get back at his brother. And yes, he’d have to stop for beer. The last hour of the job tonight, the only thing that kept him going was the thought of downing a cold
Corona or two.

     Mark walked into the Exxon convenience store and waved at Joe Kenney, the assistant manager.

     Mark shouted across the store as he pulled a six-pack of Corona from the cooler. “Hey, Joe! All that I have are these, to remember you.”

     A couple of the other customers gave Mark the strangest look. A “better stay away from this guy” kind of look.

     Joe yelled back from behind the counter, where he was inventorying cigarettes. “Jim Croce. Photographs and Memories.”

     They’d known each other since high school, where Joe was one of the coolest guys Mark knew. Joe knew everything about music from the good old days. The music from the 60s and 70s. Back when music was good, and you could understand the lyrics. And every other word wasn’t profane.

     They’d played this game almost as long as they’d been friends. Mark would find an obscure song lyric and try to stump Joe. But he seldom succeeded. Joe played five instruments, and had been in various garage bands since he was ten. Music was pretty much his life. At least when he wasn’t at Exxon counting cigarettes.

     The line was a lot longer than usual. A rolling marquee above the cash register said the Powerball jackpot was at $310 million. Mark let out a slow whistle. That was a good chunk of change.

     He seldom played the lottery himself, but Hannah did all the time. Poor sweet thing. She’d been stuck at home with the flu for the last week and hadn’t been able to get out. But he knew she’d have gotten herself a ticket if she hadn’t been sick.

     So as a last-second lark, he told the clerk to throw in a quick pick for the lottery, cash option, and paid two extra bucks. It was worth two dollars to make Hannah smile that beautiful smile. And it was the least he could do for her, for thinking enough to record the game for him.

     But Mark forgot to give her the ticket. Forgot to even take it into the house. He laid it on the passenger seat of his Explorer and it sailed down to the floorboard when a dog ran in front of him and he had to hit the brakes hard. And he pulled into the driveway, took his beer and watched the game, and never gave it another thought.

     On Thursday, Mark was doing a sales pitch to a banker who was worried because his neighbor three doors down had been a recent victim of a home invasion. The banker’s community was gated and a private security company made their rounds occasionally, but none of that had stopped the brazen thieves from posing as utility workers.

     In broad daylight, they knocked on his neighbor’s door, and flashed fake IDs to gain access to the back yard “to check the power lines.” From there, they cut the phone cable, kicked in the back door, and tied up the occupants before leisurely looting the place of all its valuables. They even stopped long enough to make themselves a sandwich before leaving.