Eternal Rains: A Dystopian Trilogy (BOUND Book 1)

by Doug McGovern

  My breath catches in my throat and I stare into his galaxy eyes. I know that I love his eyes and I love his physique. I love the way he speaks—almost like he is enunciating every word and making his point known. But I know nothing about him. And until I know him, I cannot love him. But instead of speaking or thinking logically, I close the distance between us and lock our lips.

  In the heat of the moment, my pain is forgotten. I don’t care that he wraps his fingers around the center of my broken arm or that he pulls me to him so tightly that I forget to breathe. All that matters is his lips on mine and the certain feelings I hold for the man before me. I feel so small and fragile in his arms, but with my lips on his, I feel in control. I feel powerful and loved. His lips are soft as a silk blanket and his hand is firm and stable as it roams up my back. He smells like sweat and must and I can imagine that I smell the same, but underneath the scent, there is something wonderful. I can’t place the scent, but I recognize it from before.

  It’s Hayden.

  I struggle to pull away from him and his touch. His rapid lips that devour mine hungrily. His scruff that tickles my chin and nose. His beautiful galaxy eyes may be closed, but the memory of them makes his closeness much better. And in the end, it’s Hayden who pulls away slowly and deliberately. “Jo Leigh.” The way he says my name makes my heart melt. Is this love?

  “We found a car,” Mary shouts from a distance. I take two small steps away from Hayden and have to make a conscious effort to remain far enough. I grasp my arm and wince in anticipation of the severe pain I plan to feel, but it’s subtle at best. A broken arm should not be subtle.

  “Then let’s go,” I say, not taking my eyes away from Hayden’s. What did he do to my arm?

  *****

  Chapter 27

  One street away.

  Charlie is one street away from me.

  We park the car and I throw my door open and sprint toward the house that used to be my family’s. Of all the places that I’ve been, our street looks the most like it used to. Houses aren’t burned to the ground and glass does not cover the road. Graffiti doesn’t cover all the houses and some of the neighbors’ flowers are still blooming, despite their absence.

  I smile when I lay my eyes on my old house. It looks the same as before. The gray siding and the white shudders look a little dirtier, but still in excellent condition. Charlie is inside that house. She has to be.

  I don’t hear the group behind me, but I know they are there. They wouldn’t leave me.

  “Charlie,” I whisper before rushing up the front porch steps. The second one creaks under my weight just as it always has. I grasp the handle and twist it, but it doesn’t budge. “Charlie,” I shout, knocking rapidly. I’m surprised that I don’t hear Bosco barking inside the house. He used to bark at everything. “Charlie,” I shout loudly. She doesn’t come to the door and my heart beats faster in my chest. Where is she? Where is Bosco? “Charlie, open the door,” I order. Nothing moves or rustles. The dog doesn’t bark and she doesn’t come to the door. “Damn it, Charlie. Open the door.”

  I fall to my knees at the front door and hit my head against the surface. My head has just recently stopped throbbing from my possible concussion, but I don’t mind the pain at the moment. All I need is to see Charlie. Without Charlie, nothing is left. I hear footsteps behind me, but don’t turn around. “Is she not in there?” Hayden asks gently, placing his hand on my back. I jerk away.

  “She’s inside. She has to be,” I whisper shakily. “Charlie, please,” I plead through the door. “You have to open up. Please just open the door.”

  “Jo,” Mary says. “I think the curtain just moved.”

  I look toward the curtain and find it hanging perfectly still. I don’t look away, praying that it will move once again. If it moves, that means someone is in there. It takes a moment, but the curtain sways once again and I spot a small patch of fur moving around. “That’s Bosco,” I nearly screech.

  And the door flies open. I look up at the face of my sister who I haven’t seen in months. “Charlie,” I whisper, looking her over. She used to be thin, but she’s much thinner now. She has a small pistol in her hand and she drops it to the floor when she sees me.

  “My God, Jo.” I spring to my feet and wrap my arms around her tightly. She smells like our house. “You’re back,” she cries, burying her head into my shoulder.

  I feel tears prickle my vision, but refuse to cry. This is a happy moment, not a sad one. “Charlie, these are my friends. That’s Mary,” I point. Mary waves awkwardly and wraps her arms in front of herself shyly. “She was destined to become a rocket scientist or something. That’s Hayden and that’s Ross.” I point at them and they greet her. “We’re here because you aren’t safe.”

  We explain the situation to Charlie as we all stand on the front porch; a group of people is looking to kill everyone in their path and she’s in their path. “We had a run-in with them and we won’t stand a chance if they find us,” Hayden explains.

  “Then we’d better get out of here,” she agrees.

  *****

  Chapter 28

  Hayden brings the car to the house while we all assist Charlie in determining the essentials. She still has multiple packages of water bottles and plenty of canned food left, so we place everything in the trunk of the car. Bosco runs around our feet and I’m shocked by how large he has gotten. “Has Bosco done well?” I ask. Because she’s still alive, I assume he has.

  “Actually, he’s done more than a great job. When he doesn’t give me much of a notice he lays under my head, but I haven’t had many seizures lately.”

  Ross looks carefully at her. “You have seizures?” He sounds genuinely concerned for my sister, which I find odd.

  “I have since I was a kid. It wasn’t a big deal before everything happened, but it’s tricky now. I’m almost out of medication and I need it to slow my seizures so I’ll be able to stop. Bosco helps me predict my seizures and I do the rest. With other people here to help, it will make my life a lot easier.”

  Ross looks queasy but nods his head. “You need a bug out bag,” I tell her.

  “What’s that?”

  I laugh, realizing that Charlie hasn’t experienced the outside world since the rains. While that’s for the best, it’s going to be difficult to acclimate her. It’s terrible out there and she is still as innocent as she was before. “There is a lot of bad shit out there. You need a bag of absolute necessities just in case you need to escape a sticky situation. Mine has water, some food, spare clothes, first aid, and a few knickknacks. Just fill a bag with things you absolutely need.”

  I watch as she throws a change of clothes into her bag along with her medication and the remnants of a bag of dog food. I’m curious where she had been getting the dog food, but don’t ask. She’d likely pilfered from other homes in the neighborhood to get what she had needed. And on top of that, to get her medication, she would have needed to raid the pharmacy, so there’s no way that she remained in the house for the months I’ve been gone.

  “I think I have everything I need. I’ll add food and water when we get in the car.” Charlie throws her bag over her shoulder and we make our way down the steps. I notice Ross staring at her and I’m pretty sure that he hasn’t stopped looking at her since meeting her. Charlie seems to have that effect on people.

  We make our way out the front door and Hayden walks in my direction. Watching him strut this way causes my stomach to flutter and breath to catch in my throat. What is wrong with me?

  In an attempt to distract myself, I glance at Charlie and find that she’s still wearing her bracelet. I glance at mine. Hers is still in decent condition whereas mine is frayed and filthy. Part of me is envious that she had such a comfortable life in this house, but another part of me is just happy she is alive.

  “So, are you going to be a badass marksman like your sister?” Ross asks.

  “Shoot, that reminds me.” Charlie throws me her bag and rushes into the house
for a brief second before exiting our home with dad’s sniper rifle. “I couldn’t leave this.”

  “So, you are a badass marksman,” Ross groans.

  I nudge Ross’s shoulder and smile up at him. “You think I’m good? With a rifle, she can take a mile long shot and she won’t miss. With a pistol, we’re about equal.”

  “Who raised you two? Assassins?” Mary jokes. I laugh and shake my head.

  “A butcher and a nurse, actually,” Charlie responds, pouring the rifle’s ammunition into her bag. “But we hunted a lot as kids. And dad took us to the shooting range almost weekly.”

  “At least we know we’re protected,” Mary jokes.

  I hear the cocking of a rifle and I look at Charlie, wondering why she’s loading it. But when I notice that she is looking around and trying to find where the sound originated, my heart sinks. “Get down,” I shout.

  All it takes is a brief second—too short of a time for me to move, but just enough for Hayden to jump directly in front of me and for Ross to jump in front of Charlie. I see the shooter less than a second before he pulls the trigger, and the gun is pointed directly at me.

  My breath catches and I close my eyes in preparation for the impact, but something happens. Instead of the gory sound of a bullet hitting flesh, it sounds like it ricochets from something metallic. I clench Hayden’s shirt in anticipation, but when I feel his chest, I furrow my brow. It doesn’t feel like Hayden’s chest at all. In fact, it doesn’t feel human.

  I look up and find a set of metallic galaxy eyes staring back at me. A light gray, steel face surrounds the eyes and the black hair that I’ve come to love is just as ashen and still. Instead of Hayden’s usual height, he has to be eight feet tall and much broader than before. I place my hand over my mouth to muffle a scream and take a step backward, the shooter becoming an irrelevant past time. Two more shots are fired as I stare at Hayden—or the thing that used to be Hayden.

  Out of everything I could have imagined, this is not what I thought Hayden was hiding.

  I register the third gunshot and fall backward on the grass of my front lawn, clutching my stomach. It would be purely ironic if this is how I died: laying on my front lawn, surrounded by the few people whom I have come to trust. I smile at the sky, realizing that I’ve done the one thing I wished to accomplish: find my sister. But as I lie still and prepare to black out, I find myself wishing that the stars were visible. But the only stars visible at this time are the ones in Hayden’s eyes.

  THE END

  *****

  Thank you for beginning The Bound Trilogy! Book 2 is currently on Pre-Order on Amazon!

  CLICK HERE TO CHECK IT OUT & GET YOUR COPY!

  *****

  And if you haven’t yet…

  CLICK HERE TO JOIN MY MAILING LIST to receive updates on my books, information on joining my Street Team and a FREE BOOK!

  *****

  Let’s connect on social media…

  One More Thing…

  If you would RETURN TO AMAZON to give this book a positive review, I would really appreciate it! Thank you in advance!

  *****

  Continue for my contact info…

  About Doug McGovern

  Doug McGovern is a sick-minded individual who lives in Upstate New York with his surprisingly normal wife, Nancy (also an author with books on Amazon), and their three awesome kids.

  Doug’s Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/chUt9H

  *** Sign up to receive updates & behind-the-scenes info on my books PLUS a FREE STORY!

  Doug’s Books (Amazon): http://amzn.to/2pS4GKJ

  Doug’s Email: Doug@McGovernBooks.com

  Doug’s Facebook: http://www.Facebook.com/AuthorDougMcG

  Doug’s Twitter: @AuthorDougMcG

  *****

  Rights & Disclaimer

  This is entirely a work of fiction. All people, places and events contained have been completely fabricated by the author. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are completely coincidental.

  The Bound Trilogy Copyright © 2017 Doug McGovern

  http://www.Facebook.com/AuthorDougMcG

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any manner or used in any way without advanced written permission by the author.