Red Eye | Season 1 | Episode 2
Page 9
“We’ll save him tomorrow,” Rose said firmly.
Tension hung in the air. I didn’t like the group being at odds. We needed to work together to survive.
“Tomorrow.” I said the word a third time. “But right now, I think we all need to relax.” Leaving the monitors, I went to where I’d stashed the to-go bag from the restaurant. “Who the hell needs a drink?” I held the bottles of tequila and rum in the air.
Rose came over and took the bottle of rum out of my hand with a hell yes expression. I nodded and wondered if we were having the same thought.
Tomorrow’s another day. And maybe things will look a little brighter.
Surely things couldn’t get any worse.
Right?
Episode 3 is coming November 21st
Stay tuned…
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Claire C. Riley is a USA Today and international bestselling author.
She’s a genre jumping book nerd who likes to write about psycho stalkers, alpha males and the strong women that love them, moody anti-heroes, and the end of the bloody world! A lover of all things dark and dirty, she likes to write books that f**k with your heart, and your head.
She lives in the United Kingdom with her husband, three daughters and ridiculously naughty rescue beagle aka Dogface.
She also really likes drinking cheap instant coffee, because she’s not a coffee snob like Elizabeth. (wink wink)
Also by Claire C. Riley
Post-Apocalypse:
Odium I – VI The Dead Saga.
Odium Origins 0.5, 1.5, 2.5
Out of the Dark #1
Red Eye The Armageddon Series - co-authored with Eli Constant
Paranormal Romance:
Limerence. (The Obsession Series)
Limerence II (The Obsession Series)
Twisted Magic Raven’s Cove
Thriller:
Beautiful Victim
Horror:
Blood Claim
MC Romance:
Ride or Die a Devil’s Highwaymen series
Nomad the Devil’s Highwaymen Series:
Crank #1, Sketch #2, Battle #3, Fighter #4, Cowboy #5
New Adult Romance:
Wrath #3 the Elite Seven Series
Short Stories/Anthology contributions
Lockdown
Treasured Chests
Lets Scare Cancer to Death
Painted Mayhem
State of Horror Illinois
Co-Authored Books
With Madeline Sheehan
Post-Apocalyptic:
Thicker than Blood #1
Beneath Blood and Bone #2
Contemporary Romance:
Shut Up & Kiss Me
With Eli Constant
Apocalyptic:
Red Eye The Armageddon Series
Season One
Available in paperback, eBook and audiobook and almost all in Kindle Unlimited!
CONTACT LINKS:
Website: www.clairecriley.com
Claire C. Riley FB page: https://www.facebook.com/ClaireCRileyAuthor/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1GDpF3I
Reader Group: Riley’s Rebels: https://www.facebook.com/groups/ClaireCRileyFansGroup/
Newsletter Sign-up: http://bit.ly/2xTY2bx
IG: https://www.instagram.com/redheadapocalypse/
@ClaireCRiley
Eli Constant also writes as Eliza Grace.
Eli adores all things quirky, eats ice cream with a fork, and likes warm Dr. Pepper (on a cool day). She once thought she'd marry Martin Short... until she discovered Alan Rickman. #Always (She might also have Martin Freeman and Simon Pegg on her 'I get a pass' list. And, please, don't get her started on Jeff Godblum... erhm, Goldblum. #lifefindsaway).
The most important things to her are family, friends, books, and dresses with pockets. Typically in that order. Also really, really good coffee (winks at Claire).
Available Books by Eli Constant:
The Victoria Cage Necromancer Series,
The Dead Trees Series (re-releasing soon),
The Water is Sweeter,
To Scream Within a Dream,
and many more…
Available Books by Eliza Grace:
The Shadow Forest Series,
The Birthright,
A Shade of Hades (Book 1 coming 2020)
Available Co-authored Books:
Scatter My Ashes,
Darwin’s Fall (re-releasing soon),
and more…
*
Stalk Eli Constant on social media:
Website: www.authoreliconstant.com
Newsletter: https://www.authoreliconstant.com/newsletter-subscription
Reader Group: Beastly Books & Badass Readers: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1996067960679574/
Twitter: @Author_EliC
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorEliConstant/
Books on Amazon: https://amzn.to/30Y0KJk
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2LWSiGj
MORE FROM THE AUTHORS
OUT OF THE DARK
By
USA Today Bestselling Author
Claire C. Riley
Have you read?
Out of the Dark
One mother’s journey across a brutal post-apocalyptic landscape with only the determination to keep her daughter alive to keep her going.
Read on for a sneak peek:
About the book:
We are temporary. Finite.
The choices we’ve made, the people we have loved. Who we used to be no longer matters.
Because now it is all about the ending. And the ending always comes too soon.
There’s fear in the dark. And behind every drop of light, the shadows creep and the darkness comes in the form of clawing, red-eyed monsters. They hunt us—stalk us…they are desperate to destroy us.
But I have a reason to fight the darkness and everything in it. A small glimpse of light that lives within my golden-haired daughter, Lilly. She is my strength. She is my everything.
Every life is an untold story, each scene unfolding until the final act. But our ending has yet to be written, and I will continue to protect us, until I cannot.
Chapter One
Chapter One.
#1 Appreciate what you have.
There are times when I wish for the old days. For bills, and jobs, and too much TV. For fast food, sports cars, and thoughts about the ozone layer and how we can repair it.
Now we know that there was never any way to repair it. That it didn’t matter how high your cholesterol was in the end, because you were always destined to die a slow and agonizing death. Or maybe you would be one of the lucky ones, maybe you would go quickly. Regardless, you would still die and you wouldn’t be around to see the ice caps melt.
So what would I say if I could go back in time and speak to the old me? Or even the old you? I’d say this: Get fat—eat the food you love, because soon enough it will be gone. Love freely, but trust no one. Always hate with regret, because hate is such a waste. Drive fast, but be mindful of others on the road because one day, in the not-so-distant future, you might need one of those people that you overtake and undercut, to save you.
I would tell you not to waste too much of your time pondering what to do with your life, and just enjoy the here and now as much as you can. Because before you know it, it will all be much too late. Doctor, lawyer, farmer, computer technician, police officer, delivery driver—in this world that I now live in, none of that matters. Who you were isn’t important anymore; it’s who you are that now holds the greatest significance. And most of us, those that are still alive, are not good people at all.
I look out across the calm ocean with a sigh. The waves gently caressing the pebbled beach remind me of happier times, when I would go crabbing with my mother and father. I never killed those little crabs; I just liked to catch them and watch them scuttle around in my blue plastic bucket. Perhaps that was a hint as to the sort of woman I would become.
I turn to look at Lilly through the cracked windshield of the car and offer her a small smile. Her little hands, as usual, are clasping her dirty brown teddy bear with all their might. Her wide brown eyes stare back at me in confusion until at last recognition flickers across her face and she seems satisfied with who I am, and that I am not far from her side. She knows that in this bleak world, I am all that she has left. Just me and her teddy bear.
She closes those brown pools of innocence again and snuggles back down into her car seat, a thumb pushing between her rosebud lips to help soothe her. She should know by now that I am never far from her side. She is mine, and I am hers. It has been this way since we found each other in flowers and light. I will never leave her—not until I have to.
I slide off the hood of my car, my jeans making a strange screech and scratch sound on the dented red metal. I take one last drag of my cigarette and stub it out into the dusty ground with a shake of my head. I swore I’d never smoke again. That’s another thing to add to the list: if you want to smoke, do it. But be aware that when they run out—the cigarettes—there’s no running to the store to get more. You get little in this world.
I walk to the edge of the cliff to get a better view of down below. The sun is just setting over the ocean, creating a myriad of color before my eyes. It finally dips, and like a snap of the fingers the light is snuffed out. The night embraces us with its cold, treacherous fingers. It is easy to believe that everything is okay when I am up here. I can pretend there’s nothing to be afraid of—no boogeyman hiding under the bed. No evil in the world. Just me, Lilly, and the sound of the ocean.
The waves pound against one another, the froth building and crashing against the sandy beach cove below. The saltiness of the ocean leaves its presence on my dry lips, making my thirst even greater.
I startle when Lilly’s small hand clasps mine. Looking down into her melancholy little face, I try to force a smile for her, but it comes out as little more than a contorted grimace. Still, I tried at least. I always try.
“You should be sleeping, Honeybee,” I say as I gently squeeze her warm hand. Her skin is still smooth like silk, not rough and calloused like mine, and I rub my thumb across the back of her hand over and over, my smile coming easier now. She always soothes me without even having to try.
Lilly continues to stare blankly up at me until I reach down and pull her into my arms. She doesn’t resist, but clings to me like a little koala bear, her arms and legs gripping me tightly around my waist and neck. That thought makes me sadder still. She will never know what a koala bear is. In this morbid world, they are all gone now, along with almost every other beautiful thing that once existed.
I stare up at the stars, tiny pinpricks of hope in the darkened night sky. My heart feels heavier than usual tonight. Lilly’s hand tips my chin down so that I am looking at her again.
“Where are they?” she asks in a whisper.
“Down there,” I say, pointing to over the top of the cliff that we are on.
She peers over as much as she dares, her tiny fingers digging painfully into my skin as she watches the abominations moving below. They are awake now. They came alive with the snuffing of the sun. I feel her fragile little body shiver and tense in my arms and I grip her tighter, more for her comfort than anything else. Because I wouldn’t drop her for all the world. My grip on her is as fierce as my heartbeat, relentless and unforgiving. It knows no bounds, and would only surrender when those monsters ripped my still-beating heart from my cold, dead body.
“It’s okay. We are up here, and they are down there. We’re safe,” I reassure her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We have our light still.” With a gentle smile, I point to the streetlight, which inexplicably is still lit after all this time. It makes no sense, but I’ve given up trying to figure it out. I’m just grateful that it is here, blanketing us with its protection.
“For now,” she whispers back solemnly. Her words cut into my heart, carving a piece of it out and sending it away. I nod, because I cannot lie to her; she sees through to the truth every time.
“Yes. For now, for tonight. And that is what matters. Tonight we can dance under the stars.” I smile and twirl her around in circles, and she giggles and buries her face in the crook of my neck, her warm breath washing over me with each gentle laugh.
It is the sweetest sound I have heard in a long time—her laugh. It’s quite possibly the most beautiful sound that is left in this world. Better than the time we found the little gray kitten with its one white paw hiding under the burnt-out car, crying for its mother. The sound was so inexplicable to me. It was something I hadn’t heard in so long that I had forgotten that it even existed. A small meow—a cry for help, from a kitten of all things! Of course, it died a week later from starvation. There wasn’t enough food to feed ourselves, never mind a kitten. Lilly had lost the will to speak for almost two weeks after that. I thought she was gone, lost, absorbed back into herself forever. But she came back, eventually.
Lilly laughs again, harder this time, the sound breaking free from her heart-shaped mouth, and I twirl her faster, making us both dizzy and breathless. Her laugh is even better than the sound of the breeze moving through the long grasses and flowers in the field that I had found her hiding in—though that is a very close second. My clever little Honeybee, hiding in amongst those sunflowers. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, that field of sun; as if God had shone His light upon that particular place, bringing her to me and me to her. In the middle of a world filled with so much loss—so much death—a gray world full of sorrow and pain and misery, how could there possibly be so much brilliant yellow beauty? I had wandered among the flowers in awe, my jaw slack and my eyes wide and brimming with tears. My hands skimmed along the tops of the flowers, the petals soft beneath my palms.
It had felt like a sign.
I had wanted to give up that day; I was ready to let go and move on to the next world, and then I saw her: my Honeybee. Her little scrunched-up face peering up at me, surrounded by the yellows, oranges, and greens of the sunflowers. She was like a gift. I was so close to losing it, and then she—Lilly—was there, her face a more beautiful canvas than any sunflower could ever be.
We wept in each other’s arms that day, so happy to have found one another. A mother without a child and a child without a mother. Both lost and broken. Both dying with no hope. But together, things seemed more possible, and I have hope now. I think she does too.
Lilly and I dance until the sky darkens further and the stars seem to multiply, though she does not ever let me put her down. She grows heavy in my arms, and her eyelids begin to flutter closed again. I take her back to the car and place her in the little seat, and I clip her back into it safely, being careful not to wake her up.
I learned my lesson the hard way of not buckling her in when she sleeps. Having to make a hasty retreat with a small child screaming and rolling around on the floor—blood pumping from the small cut to her head she just received because she had fallen out of her safety chair—is a journey I don’t want to have to make ever again. She suffered a serious bump to her head that day, and I still feel guilty about it when the sunlight shines on that white sliver of a scar on her forehead.
I light up another cigarette after I shut the door on her sleeping form, and I go to stand at the edge of the cliff again, looking down at them.
They gurgle and hiss, their red eyes staring back up at me. The sound of their jagged nails scrambling for placement on the side of the cliff worries me, but they cannot climb, I know this. So we are safe. For tonight, at least, thank God, we are safe.
*
Light peeks over the top of the hillside, glaring in at me through the windshield—a soft orange glow turning to a brilliant yellow as the sun rises higher. I rub my eyes and slouch further down in my seat, wanting more sleep, but the sun retaliates and rises further, making me groan and fully awaken.
“All righ
t, all right,” I mumble to myself. I shouldn’t complain—the sunlight is our friend, our savior. But some days, I am so very tired.
I turn in my seat and see Lilly still sleeping, her little thumb still tucked into her pink mouth. My mouth twitches into what could possibly be considered a smile, but then I surrender myself to my misery again as my stomach aches and I crease over in pain. I open the door and get out, taking my smokes out of my back pocket and lighting one up before I’ve even shut the door behind me.
The first wave of nicotine hits me and I relish the pleasure it brings. There are only four things that bring me pleasure these days: Lilly, my cigarettes, food, and light. I walk to the edge and look down the cliff face, knowing that the monsters won’t be there now—they are never there during the day. The night is their only friend.
However, their previous night’s antics are there to be seen, unfortunately, in the form of a bloodied pebbled beach and mutilated carcasses. I don’t look close enough to see if the bones are human or animal, or even their own brethren, I never do. It doesn’t matter anymore—dead is dead, no matter what it once was. I gave up worrying about other living things long ago. I can’t do anything about it, so I prefer to blot it out. I would prefer to blot the entire world out if I could, but I can’t because I have Lilly.