Edge of Fear: An EMP Post-Apocalyptic Survival Prepper Series (American Fallout Book 3) by Alex Gunwick (year 7 reading list .txt) 📗

a revolver in the man’s waistband and a half-crushed, moist cigar. Luke stuck it between his lips and used the dead man’s zippo to light it. Luke felt like a robot. He was going through the motions but didn’t seem to feel anything. His whole body was numb.

In silence, he trekked back to where Sierra lay. Derek followed.

As he shivered from the cold, Luke wrapped Sierra’s body in her killer’s coat. When Derek tried to help, Luke swatted his hands away. Maybe he hadn’t directly killed Sierra, but he sure as hell had something to do with it.

After gently laying Sierra’s swaddled body in the snow, Luke stood silently as he regarded her. For a time, he didn’t speak. Liz was going to be devastated. Kyle too. God, how was he going to tell them about this?

“What the hell were you doing out here with her?” Luke asked.

“It’s a long story. We found something.”

“What?”

“It’s better if I show you.”

“Do it.”

“Before I take you there, what do you want to do with her?” Derek asked, nodding toward Sierra. “Do you want to take her back to the cabin? I can—I can help bury her.”

“I can’t believe my baby’s dead.” Luke’s face scrunched up. His lower lip trembled. “Why?”

“I’m sorry, man.”

Derek clasped his shoulder, but Luke shook his hand off. He turned away and covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as he gave in to his grief. After a few minutes, he composed himself and cleaned his face with a handkerchief.

“Help me lift her over my shoulder.” Luke bent down and picked up her body around the midsection. Derek assisted him by draping her body over Luke’s shoulder. “I’ll bring her home. Liz will want to bury her.”

“I understand.”

“You said you found something.” Luke shifted Sierra’s slight weight as he turned to face Derek. “I want to see it before I take her home.”

“Yeah, you’re not going to believe it.”

“What the hell could have been so important that my daughter ended up dead?”

“Nothing. But this is still important. You’ll see.”

As Luke followed Derek out of the valley, he steadied his daughter’s body. They crossed a slight rise and then labored to climb a steeper ridge. A rusted metal pipe, covered in grass and snow, stuck out of the earth.

“What the hell’s that?” Luke asked.

“Best I can guess, a drainage pipe.”

“Draining what? There’s nothing up here. I’ve been through this section of the forest several times in the last three days.”

“I think I know where it’s coming from. We’re almost there.” Derek walked faster.

The men clambered over the ridge and carefully trudged down a snowy hill until they reached a small creek. Derek led them parallel to the ice-crusted water for about a quarter-mile before he ducked under a low hanging branch. A vertical rock wall blocked the path. It looked like a dead end.

“What the fuck?” Luke was ready to drop Sierra to defend himself when Derek pointed.

“There.”

Luke’s suspicious gaze snapped to where Derek was pointing. His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened.

“Is that what I think it is?” Luke asked.

“Yes.” Derek grinned. “Yes, it is.”

Luke’s heart pounded against his rib cage. This was going to change everything.

2

Three days earlier …

Liz bent her knees in a low crouch next to a fallen log. Several years ago, she would have walked right past the rotting wood without a second thought, but now she knew it could be a valuable treasure trove of sustenance. Liz shifted her weight back onto her left heel and gently lifted the log. A few scurrying insects retreated from the frigid air. She spotted a cluster of yellow oyster mushrooms. Jackpot!

Sandy, the middle-aged woman standing next to her, grinned. White puffs of condensation rolled from her lips as she spoke. “Nice find.”

“Thanks. Let’s hope I don’t overcook them this time.” Liz stared at the meager amount of mushrooms and sighed. “We need to shore up our food stores at the cabin.”

“Us, too.” Sandy glanced over to where her husband, Edwin, fiddled with the knot on his wicker basket. “Edwin hasn’t said so out loud, but I can tell he’s worried our food supply will run out before the end of the year.”

Liz nodded. Her mind drifted back to a time when she could hit the grocery store and load up an SUV when she needed to provide food for her family. Out in the wilderness, one truly began to appreciate the struggle for sustenance. Every morsel, every calorie, had to be earned the old-fashioned way. With hard work.

Her thoughts lingered on the idea. She underappreciated her old life, the one she’d enjoyed before the bombs fell. There was a time when her worst problems were finding a babysitter for Kyle and dealing with Sierra’s teenage drama. She would have given anything to have those “problems” again.

She’d also taken the convenience of modern technology for granted. Now every little chore had become an arduous task. If she needed to wash clothes, she had to carry a full load over rough terrain to the nearby stream then clean them by hand. Afterward, she had to either struggle with a heavy basket of damp clothing or hang them up by the creek, where anyone might happen along and steal the garments right off the line.

Food no longer came out of a can or a convenient plastic wrapper. Rather, it had to be pursued, fished, hunted, or chased down. She and Luke had agreed to try to hunt while there were still animals to be hunted. They wouldn’t dip into their stash of food until absolutely necessary. Still, Liz was determined to provide for her family. Just because the world had gone mad, it didn’t mean her responsibilities as a wife and mother had disappeared. If anything, she felt more important now, as if she were the glue holding her family together.

And, as if life wasn’t difficult enough after the bombs, there was the damned Children of the Bomb cult, which had nearly killed her and her children. She