The Last Survivors (Book 6): The Last Conquest

by Bobby Adair

  "Smoke from the pyres in Brighton," he said grimly.

  Kirby's expression was equally grave.

  They watched the smoke in silence for a few minutes as the snow continued to fall, until the storm obscured their view and dusk deepened. Turning to Kirby, Bray asked, "Does that mean the battle didn't go well?"

  Kirby sighed. "Maybe peace will finally come to Brighton. Or maybe not. We'll have to see."

  William cleared his throat, prompting them to look at him.

  "I'm never going to know," William said resolutely. "Because I'm never going back there. Not in a million years."

  Bray stared at William for a moment. "You know what, William? I'm not, either." Pointing at his shoulder, he said, "Bad memories."

  "Where will we go, then?" William asked.

  "There have to be plenty of places better than Brighton."

  "Do you know of any?"

  Instead of answering, Bray unslung his bag, taking out his father's map. He unfolded it as William watched in awe. Flattening it out, Bray pointed at the lines and drawings, which were just visible in the fading daylight.

  "What's that?" William asked.

  "My father started filling out this map when he was alive. He never got to see much past Brighton or the other townships. I promised myself one day I'd fill it in. Maybe that day has come."

  William stared at the map, unable to pry his eyes away from it.

  After studying it awhile, Bray finally put the map away. "We should probably go downstairs and get some rest. If we stay up here, we'll wake up with a blanket of snow over us. We'll have plenty of time to look for places tomorrow. But for now, let's get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day."

  "What do you mean?" William asked.

  "Kirby is going to show us how to use her guns."

  William looked over at Kirby expectantly. Kirby chuckled as they headed down to the lower level.

  "Is that a yes?" Bray asked.

  "We'll see."

  THE END

  Follow Bray, Kirby, and William in the sequel series, THE RUINS, available

  now for pre-order on Amazon!

  Final Words

  Thank you for coming along on the journey through six books. It's been a journey for TW and I, as well. Hopefully you were surprised by some of the events that played out.

  I have to admit, TW and I were, too.

  When we started writing The Last Survivors series (TLS is what we call it between ourselves), we'd emailed back and forth a bit, and had a few phone calls, hashing out a bucket full of ideas and a rough concept of where our story would start, and how it might finish.

  But like many things in life, plans go awry, or as I like to think, they evolve as better ideas supplant older ones. That definitely happened in TLS. And although the general arc of the story remained intact, we surprised ourselves how we moved along that path.

  The most surprising character was Fitzgerald.

  Fitz was only a minor character when we first introduced her, but as she got shuffled back and forth between the chapters written by Piperbrook and I, we each grew much more attached to her. Her interesting back-story and personality made her hard to get away from. It became easy to imagine Fitz in a growing role, such that she'd eventually became the central female protagonist, a role we'd initially planned for Melora.

  Alternatively, William was slated to grow into the primary antagonist, eventually leading the demon army against Brighton. We grew to like the kid too much, and couldn't bring ourselves to do that to him. At least, not the way we had originally intended. Fortunately, we had Winthrop, who I'd planned to write as the Bishop of Brighton, but more in the vein that Franklin filled. But from Winthrop's very first scene, as I started creating him, I was tempted by the dark side of my imagination, and I shoved Winthrop down the low road until he grew into a truly vile man. As the story grew, he became the obvious choice for Brighton's central villain. (Of course, for a time, Tenbrook, another unplanned character, was reaching for that crown.)

  Anyway, Piperbrook and I have had a great time writing this series, and we hope you've enjoyed it. We can't thank you enough for giving our stories a chance, when there are so many good books out there competing for your reading time.

  As usual, I'll ask one quick favor, please go out to the website where you purchased your copy and leave us a star-rating and/or a few words to let others know what you liked or didn't like about the series. It makes a huge difference for us, and frankly, lets us know more about what kinds of stories to write in the future.

  Thank you so much!

  Bobby Adair & TW Piperbrook

  P.S. Many of you have asked the question, what's next? For those who want more THE LAST SURVIVORS, THE RUINS (A sequel series to THE LAST SURVIVORS), will take place directly after the events of this book, and will follow Bray, Kirby, and William as they head into the wild.

  You can pre-order THE RUINS, Book 1 now on Amazon. For a sample chapter, turn the page! Thanks again for reading!

  THE RUINS (AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER NOW!)

  Chapter 1: Bray

  "Don't worry, I survived another night," Bray said, removing the bandage to check on the gunshot wound on his shoulder. "In case you were worried."

  He grinned at Kirby, who was just stirring underneath her blankets, rubbing her eyes. She made a face at him, but didn't answer. William was lying next to her, still sleeping. Bray could see the thin outline of the boy's body, rising and falling as he breathed.

  After escaping the battle at Brighton unharmed—except for Bray—they'd spent most of each day on horseback, working their way over the mountains and hitting deeper snow, heading east and north toward the settlement where Kirby's people were from, where they'd all breathed their last breaths, leaving her alone in an unfamiliar land.

  When they were back down on the plains again, with the ocean on one side and the mountains on the other, they'd found places where the snow only thinly covered the ground and the horses were able to graze.

  Bray, being unfamiliar with the landmarks, knowing he was in a part of the world he'd never travelled before, guessed they were getting close to the settlement.

  Normally, Bray would've avoided traveling in the winter, preferring a warm bath and warmer women to keep him company, but he'd made the decision to leave Brighton, and he meant to keep it.

  Now, with the morning sun peeking through the forest, spearing the snow-covered ground and fighting back the cold that seemed to have deepened overnight, Bray watched William sleeping. He was still concerned about him. They'd had a few conversations about his mother, Ella, but most of them had ended with William looking away, seemingly lost in a swirl of thoughts that had plagued them all since leaving Brighton.

  Bray couldn't blame the kid.

  They were all dealing with things.

  Kirby stood from her blankets, and Bray glanced at the gun strapped to her side. She'd refused to let him fire it, telling him that it would be a waste to spend the ammunition on anything other than killing demons.

  "We should be at the settlement today, right?" he asked Kirby.

  "Yes," Kirby said, looking around the forest. "It's a few miles southeast."

  "Your Tech Magic hurts like hell," Bray said, as he continued cleaning the bullet wound in his shoulder with some water from his flask. "I can't wait to get one of those guns for myself and try it out on something other than me."

  Kirby chuckled quietly. "Tech Magic. You people from Brighton really are backward."

  Bray frowned as he pointed toward the horses, which were drinking from the brook next to where they slept. "Backward? You were the one who had never seen a horse."

  "The people in my settlement never had them," Kirby explained, not for the first time. "Just like your people never had guns. Horses were the things of legend. The knowledge of the old world—the Ancients, as you call them—is spread differently, depending on where we come from. I think that's something we're both figuring out, as we travel further from our homes."<
br />
  "You're right about that," Bray agreed. He'd seen enough since the battle of Brighton to question what he thought he knew about the wild, though he wouldn't freely admit it.

  After he'd finished cleaning and tying off his wound, Bray stoked the remains of the dying fire they'd built the night before so he could cook breakfast. Kirby collected her things, falling into the dark mood that seemed characteristic of her since they'd been nearing her settlement.

  Bray noticed she'd been eating less, staring between the trees while she rode, and even missing some opportunities to make a joke at his expense.

  He wondered if she was looking for ghosts.

  Bray knew her people were dead. Kirby had told him several times what had happened to her settlement. She'd been very clear she didn't want to be there any longer than needed.

  "Don't worry, you'll have food in your stomach soon," he said to Kirby.

  "I don't feel much like eating," Kirby said.

  "You're not sick, are you?" Bray asked.

  "No, nothing like that," she answered vaguely as she walked over to check on William, a habit she'd developed over the last couple of days. Bray wondered if her sympathy for William—and the fact that they were both infected—was one of the things keeping her here.

  Confirming William was still asleep, Kirby joined Bray by the fire. "Did you hear the demons howling last night?" she asked.

  "I think so, but they never got close," Bray confirmed.

  "With so many killed near Brighton, it's hard to believe there are any demons left," Kirby said.

  "We'll be getting further away from Brighton. Who knows how many are out in other parts of the wild?" Bray shrugged as he reached for the rabbit from his bag. "All I know is, I'd feel a lot safer with an armful of guns." He grinned.

  Kirby smiled back as Bray hung the rabbit over the fire on a stick. Movement from William's blanket distracted them. William was waking up. He rubbed his eyes, cast aside his blanket, and then pulled his shirt higher over his neck. It seemed like he was still hiding his warts, even though he was in no danger with Bray or Kirby.

  Maybe he was ashamed.

  "Did you sleep well?" Bray called over to William.

  Confusion crossed William's face for a brief moment before he remembered where he was. "Yes," he said. "It was cold, though. And I thought I heard demons in the night." William stood from his blanket. "Did I, or was I dreaming?"

  "It was demons," Kirby confirmed. "But we're okay. You don't have to worry."

  William nodded, but he no longer seemed fearful of the twisted men.

  And why would he be? William could talk to the vile, stinking things. Bray wouldn't have believed it, had he not witnessed it several times in the Ancient City.

  A few times while they were traveling, Bray had seen William staring between the trees as the demons screeched far away in the forest. Bray had promised to keep William away from the twisted men. But with so many temptations in the wild, that promise was a continuing challenge.

  Who knew taking care of Ella's boy would be so difficult?

  "Thank god the demons didn't come near here." Bray turned the rabbit in the fire, hoping to change the subject. "They stink like a man who has spent three years in the wild without bathing. Nobody needs that stench ruining breakfast."

  "We already have your stench doing that." Kirby laughed at Bray.

  Ignoring her, Bray said, "As soon as we're done eating, we'll get moving."

  **

  After stamping out the fire, they rode the horses through several miles of smooth snow that was getting shallower. Kirby led, while Bray and William rode behind, sometimes single file when the trees were too thick and clustered, sometimes next to each other. Bray looked for signs of demons or men, but saw nothing except the small footprints of an occasional squirrel that had stayed out past the warm season.

  "There's less snow here," William observed, looking at the ground.

  "You're right," Bray agreed.

  "We're heading toward the ocean," Kirby explained. "My settlement is on the water, north of the place you call the Ancient City."

  "I still can't believe you've never seen the Ancient City," Bray mused.

  "My people were so busy fighting off demons that we didn't have time to explore," Kirby shrugged. "We planned to, of course. But most days we were lucky enough to just eat."

  "I remember you said your settlement was built with wood."

  "Yes," Kirby said. "We built it in a valley by the ocean, down a slope, and protected by a wooden wall. Almost immediately after we landed our ships, the demons started attacking."

  "Ships," Bray said, the word as much of a marvel as the concept behind it. "We haven't talked much about where you settlers came from."

  Kirby looked away. "Across the ocean," she said. "I've told you most of what you need to know. The place I came from wasn't much better than here."

  Kirby didn't elaborate, and Bray knew better than to push, especially with the mood she'd been in.

  They continued riding until the snow transitioned to hard ground. The weather had warmed, but every so often, a frigid breeze blew, giving Bray a chill that made it worse than where they'd come from. Bray figured it was from the ocean. He'd felt similarly cold in the Ancient City.

  They were riding up a hill, and the horses were working harder, bobbing their heads and keeping a steady pace. When they reached the crest, Kirby halted, putting up a hand so that Bray and William would stop, too.

  "This is—was—my home," Kirby said, pointing down the hill.

  Below them was a large, bowl-shaped valley, blackened by fire. Down the slope were thousands of trees that had been cut down to stumps, and the remains of what must be Kirby's people, now reduced to skeletons.

  Past the bodies and the stumps were the remnants of the stockade—tall, wooden logs, many of which had been knocked over or burned, and dozens of tall, wooden houses that extended high into the air. On the shore, hanging half in and half out of the water, more incredible than anything else Bray had seen, were enormous, metal objects, the backs of them rocking with the swells of the ocean.

  "Those are your ships," he put together.

  "Yes," Kirby said sadly. "All that is left of them, anyway."

  "They carried you here?"

  "Yes, but they're too rusted and destroyed to use. Most are tipped, as you see."

  "What happened to them?" William asked.

  "They were washed up by a hurricane we had years ago," she answered.

  "A hurricane?" William asked, furrowing his brow.

  "A bad storm." Kirby fell silent as she looked across the valley.

  After a moment of reflection, she trotted her horse into the edge of the valley. "Be careful," she warned, pulling her gun from her holster. "Last time we were here, the demons were making homes out of my settlement. I expect it will be even worse now."

  Bray and William drew their swords.

  They led their horses behind Kirby through the maze of stumps and bodies, unable to pry their eyes away from the destruction. Everywhere Bray looked was a skeleton, lying at some ugly angle, or bones that were scattered and no longer in the shape of a human. William stared from one to the next, as if he was recalling something. God knew he'd seen enough.

  "During the days after the fire, and after the demons attacked, I looked for some of my people," Kirby said quietly as she rode. "Some of them ran into the forest. As I mentioned, some of them had gone crazy from the spore. But I thought the ones that were lucid would eventually come back to get more weapons, or to search for other survivors. None did. I'm pretty certain they're dead."

  They kept riding between the stumps until they reached a gap in the wall. Bray peered through the broken timbers, catching sight of the tall, wooden buildings that stood all over the settlement and crept several stories into the sky. The structures had large, square bases, but narrowed as they got higher, leading up to what looked like observation platforms at the top. Past them, about a hundred yards
away, were the ships and the water. Bray saw no signs of demons anywhere.

  "Maybe the demons left," he said. "That will make it easy to get the guns and leave."

  Kirby nodded as they rode quietly. "The guns are in one of the ships," she said. "We'll go right there, and then we'll leave."

  They kept on, riding next to one of the buildings.

  William tensed on his horse. He pointed. "What was that?"

  Bray and Kirby followed his gaze. Deep in the distance, down by the water, two men with bows crept across the ruined settlement. It looked like they were heading for the ships. Like Kirby, they wore strange, green and brown clothing, but their hair was long and unkempt, so much that it looked to be in a few, solid tangles. Bray could just make out some strange markings on their faces.

  "It looks like some of your people survived," Bray said, looking over at Kirby as they watched the men in the distance. "I recognize the outfits."

  Kirby glanced sideways at Bray with a look of fear that he'd never seen her wear. "Those aren't my people."

  THE RUINS BOOK 1 AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER NOW ON AMAZON!

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