The Journal: Ash Fall

Read The Journal: Ash Fall Online

Authors: Deborah D. Moore

Tags: #prepper survivalist, #disaster, #dystopian, #prepper, #survival, #weather disasters, #Suspense, #postapocalypic, #female lead, #survivalist

BOOK: The Journal: Ash Fall
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A PERMUTED PRESS book

Published at Smashwords

 

ISBN (Trade Paperback): 978-1-61868-410-3

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-409-7

 

The Journal: Ash Fall
copyright © 2014

by Deborah Moore

All Rights Reserved.

Cover art by Matt Mosley

 

This
book
is
a
work
of
fiction
.
People
,
places
,
events
,
and
situations
are
the
product
of
the
author’s
imagination
.
Any
resemblance
to
actual
persons
,
living
or
dead
,
or
historical
events
,
is
purely
coincidental
.

 

No
part
of
this
book
may
be
reproduced
,
stored
in
a
retrieval
system
,
or
transmitted
by
any
means
without
the
written
permission
of
the
author
and
publisher
.

 

Table of contents

Acknowledgments

The Saga of 510

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

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

 

About the Author

 

Acknowledgments

 

When I first started The Journal, as a blog,
it was meant to be a short term lesson in preparedness; what to
stock up on, why and how to use it. Short term. Five months later,
after daily entries, I had to end it. Once I did, I realized the
story wasn’t over, and immediately started the sequel, Moose Creek,
which eventually became Ash Fall.

Many thanks to my sons: Jason for his
inventive expertise in my flights of fantasy in building and so
much more, and to Eric, with his military experience that has kept
me on the road of reality, in this book and the next one. (Yes,
there IS a next one!)

And I can’t forget to thank my sister, Pam,
who let me ramble on and on with thoughts and doubts while I
foraged ahead in my writing.

Where would we all be without our fans? Those
who keep clamoring for more of the story are why I’m still
writing.

A huge thank you to Felicia Sullivan, my
editor, who made sense of some of my ramblings and turned it into
the coherent book you now hold in your hands.

Finally, to Permuted Press for taking the
chance on me, an unknown, unpublished author, who had never been
rejected because I’d never submitted anything.

I love you all for helping me realize my
dream of being an author.

 

THE SAGA OF
510

 

The rain is falling along 510

The creeks are rising

and I don’t know when

I started missing you all over again.

 

It started with one raindrop

It started with one tear

Both came from the storm clouds

With the thunder rolling near.

 

You were the breath between my heartbeats

The reason for my smile

But I couldn’t make you happy

and after awhile

               
The rain started falling on the 510

               
The creeks were rising and then

               
I started missing you for the first time again

 

The clouds roll in across my mind

I thought you were good

I thought you were kind

You said you loved me and said you’d be
true

So why is my bed empty, cold, and without
you?

               
Oh, the rain is falling on 510

 

She tempted you once and then once more

That’s when you walked out, right out the
door.

You left me empty and broke my heart

Now what I need is a brand new start,
‘cause

 

               
The rain is falling along 510

               
The creeks are rising

               
And here I am

               
Missing you all over again.

 

D.D. Moore

PROLOGUE

The cool, wet spring, with muddy roads and soggy
lawns, eventually gave way to the more pleasant warm breezes of the
approaching summer. As the long slope down to the small spring-fed
creek dried out, the wildflower seed Allexa had strewn about last
fall took root, and a rainbow of color began to dot the landscape.
With the warm gusts of wind and warmer sunshine, it was just too
tempting. Allexa set aside the rototiller and took her glass of
iced tea to sit by the creek, hoping to straighten out her chaotic
thoughts.

All the tragic events of the harsh winter
paled next to her loneliness. The months of being without power,
the sickness that had swept through her town of Moose Creek, even
the fires and shootings she could and had dealt with. Though the
loss of her brother was difficult, she could visit his grave if she
wanted to. John was a different matter. He was out there,
somewhere. And she missed him fiercely. Letting out a sigh, , she
rehashed that last day in her mind. Pride had kept Allexa from
begging John to stay with her. Pride had kept her from telling him
how much she loved him, needed him. Pride had watched him walk
away, six weeks ago.

Eric, her oldest son, had found her collapsed
in the bathroom, her cat Tufts curled up tight against her chest.
Eric had come across the road to borrow something that was quickly
forgotten when he found her too still form lying on the cold tile
floor. A cool, wet towel to her face, much to Tufts’ chagrin, had
brought her around, enough to tell her firstborn that John had
left, and wasn’t coming back. Eric and his younger brother, Jason,
wanted to hunt John down, make him see reason, or at least get a
reason, for his abrupt departure Allexa had told them no. If he
wanted to come back, he would, if not, then he wouldn’t. She was
resigned to that fact. She didn’t like it. She felt the pain of
loss every day, but facts were facts: he was gone, had chosen to
leave her, with no explanation. She had taken him in after the
massive earthquakes had crippled the country, shared with him,
loved him and he had left her when recovery began. She remembered a
quote from what seemed like so long ago: Never make someone a
priority in your life, who makes you an option in theirs. Right
now, she felt like an option.

Allexa referred to April as Apathy April, to
remind herself of the mental and emotional hole she had been in.
The month wasn’t all bad: Amanda had returned. Her daughter-in-law
had come to the house early in April, wondering if Allexa knew
where Jason and Jacob were. After staying in Marquette with her
friends during the worst of the winter months, she had first gone
to their home on the Dam Road, only to find it vacant and
winterized, the power turned off and the house hauntingly empty.
Allexa told her all that had happened that spring, with the death
of Jason’s uncle and aunt, with the arrival of Eric and Emilee,
ending with how the two brothers and their children now lived
across the street in their uncles house. The reunion between
husband and wife was strained, as was to be expected. Jason had
felt abandoned by his wife of ten years and her return, though
welcomed, was a reminder that he had spent all those harsh months
alone caring for their young autistic son. Jacob, on the other
hand, was ecstatic to see his mommy. After a few days, the three
returned to the house on the Dam Road, leaving the new golden
retriever puppy, Chivas, with Eric and Emilee, who continued to
live in the big house alone.

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