Turning Point: Book 6 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Darkness Rising - Book 6)

by Justin Bell

  “What was that, Brad?”

  “I’m sorry. About Mr. Fraser.”

  Rhonda scooted down from the hood of the car and dropped into a crouch, placing a hand on his arm. “What do you mean, sweetie?”

  Brad looked at the ground. “I didn’t think you wanted me around. I thought Max was my only friend. I wanted to go help him. Mr. Fraser… he pushed me out of the way to save my life.”

  Rhonda closed her eyes, letting yet another tear roll down the gentle curve of her cheek. “Brad, honey. I’m glad he did. He was glad he did.”

  “I’m not even part of your family.”

  “Of course you are,” Rhonda replied. “Brad, you are our family. Like I told you at the Lakeview Mall, you can call me ‘Mom’ any time you’re ready to.”

  Brad nodded. “I think I’m ready to… Mom.”

  Rhonda moved forward and wrapped him in a fierce embrace, pulling him close. She could feel his shoulders rack with sobs and held him tight, never wanting to let him go.

  But she did let him go. She pulled away and let him step away, turning to join Max, Lydia, Winnie, and Tamar as they stood over by one of the smashed trucks. Angel and Rebecca sat on the hood of the Humvee nearby, while bodies were still being loaded into one of the ambulances. Julie Swift and Pietro Jacques had both paid the ultimate price, along with Phillip Fraser, but if any of the three had been asked, they would have said it was worth the cost.

  Hazmat teams, or what passed for them these days, had retrieved the device—it had been their first priority—and loaded it into the armored SWAT van, which was now getting ready to drive away to an undisclosed location.

  Rita Kramer and Jodi Krueller sat on the grass over by the ditch, hands cuffed behind their backs, both sets of eyes looking off into the pale distance, staring at something nobody else could see.

  Rhonda stared at her mother for a long time, just watching her, trying to rationalize what she was seeing with the kind of person she knew her mother to be. She couldn’t fathom what had led to this moment, a string of events that had culminated in her mother being culpable in the detonation of nuclear devices on U.S. soil. Had her father really been that much of a manipulator?

  She knew the answer to that. He’d manipulated everyone he’d ever met, including his daughter, his wife, and his granddaughter, and in the end, he’d brought the entire nation to its knees—very nearly destroying it altogether. All with merely the power of his voice.

  It would have been hard to imagine except for the fact that she’d lived it. She’d lived it throughout her entire childhood, and she’d just lived it over again the past three months, concrete proof of the power of her father’s words.

  Now the recovery would begin. She found herself staring at the draped cloth over her husband’s body again, but forced herself to look away, focus instead on the children, and she saw them there, standing in a circle, smiling and laughing, among all the chaos and death. How quickly would they recover? How quickly had they already recovered?

  If there were more children like hers in this decimated wasteland, she thought in spite of what had happened, things might just turn out okay.

  A stiff, cool breeze blew through the valley, the tops of the trees swaying. Rhonda shivered for a moment, feeling the passage from summer to autumn in one concentrated gust of wind, and it felt like a true turning of the seasons. The next phase of life about to begin.

  ***

  The ax swung and fell, smashing wood and splitting it neatly in half, each portion dropping off the thick, round stump and thudding down into the dull grass. Max brought the ax back down and nodded toward Brad who hefted another log up onto the stump, and he swung again, splitting the log straight and true.

  “You’re getting good with that thing,” Brad said with a laugh. “Remind me not to piss you off, I don’t want you taking an ax to me.”

  “Mom would kick my butt,” Max replied. “Besides, I don’t want to split this stupid wood all by myself.”

  The clopping of horse hooves thumped along the ground and Max turned, seeing Winnie riding a white horse up the gentle slope of the frost covered hill. She had a backpack on her back, bobbing slightly as she rode, then she coaxed the reins just enough to guide the young horse toward them, easing it to a stop.

  “Got some milk and eggs!” she shouted cheerfully, slipping down from the horse’s back. She gently slid the backpack off her back. “Angel and Becky’s farm has cows and chickens.”

  Max smiled. “Oh, man. Been forever since I had fresh eggs.”

  “How many you get?” Brad asked.

  “Few dozen,” Winnie replied, smiling widely. “The way the chickens are laying, they think we’ll have a pretty regular supply, at least until it gets a bit colder.”

  She tied the horse off while Max and Brad followed her toward the house. It was a nice house, a summer cabin by the looks of it, deep in the Pennsylvania mountains. The Frasers hadn’t had the energy to move too far or too fast after the events in Maryland, and when they stumbled upon this home that looked to be abandoned, they’d eagerly moved in. There was plenty of space for Rhonda and the five kids, and the tiny farmhouse just over the ridge had been the perfect size for Rebecca and Angel, who immediately embraced their new wilderness lifestyle.

  Once in a while, when Max would catch sight of Angel out milking the cows with his full sleeve tattoos and neatly shaven scalp, he’d have to chuckle to himself, but appearances aside, everyone seemed to be acclimating very well.

  “Kids, come on in the house!” Rhonda shouted, framed in the doorway and waving to the kids out in the field. “Presidential address on the radio!”

  The three kids picked up speed, running toward the house. They pushed in through the front door where Tamar was in the kitchen peeling vegetables. Lydia emerged from one of the hallways leading to the bedrooms, clothes draped over her shoulder, a needle and thread pinched between her fingers. Candles sat in the windowsills, though there was still just enough daylight left in the day that they didn’t need to be lit.

  At least not yet.

  The battery powered radio sat on a small wooden table by the back door of the house, a tiny black box with twin dials and long, rabbit-eared antennas. It was their only connection to the events of the world, though by all accounts, the newly established United States government had already begun re-engineering of communications. There hadn’t been significant damage to the power infrastructure east of the Mississippi with the exception of Toledo, Detroit, and Pittsburgh, and already the Army Corps of Engineers had been stationed in those cities, working on the rebuild.

  Still, for most citizens, there was a reliance on candlelight and batteries, and thankfully both appeared to be in plentiful supply.

  Rhonda smiled as she looked out into the quaint living room, an old-school farmhouse room with a gorgeously ornate hand-woven throw rug, the supple color of eastern white cedar walls, and a lived-in look that made her feel right at home. She still had a hard time wrapping her head around it. For three months they’d lived on the road, foraging and killing for food. Stealing. Living day to day, minute to minute.

  More often lately she thought of Phil and what he’d think about the way life was now, only a few short months after the First National Summit. How he would treat this new reality, or how the new reality would treat him. Clancy, too. Rhonda was certain that the ex-sheriff from rural Colorado would be right at home, but she wasn’t so convinced about Phil. He’d always needed his technology.

  If reports were accurate, they might actually have landline calling available within the next eighteen months again. It seemed impossible to believe. Lydia walked over to the fireplace, bending to adjust some of the logs, and the flame flared up in the flue, forcing her to take a step back. A yellow light passed through the living room, the soft flicker of warm flame and Rhonda snapped on the radio, closing her eyes as the scratchy voice came through the speaker.

  She drew a breath, picturing Phil in her mind’s eye, seeing him si
tting in the chair, hands folded on his lap, smiling at the sight of his daughter trying to coax the fire to life. In that moment, within the depths of her mind it felt like home.

  THE END

  Author’s Notes

  July 3, 2018

  Whew. And that’s all she wrote (figuratively and literally!). I’ve been playing in this sandbox alongside Mike for several months and to be honest, by the end of this book, I’m not sure I was prepared to say good-bye to the Frasers. Still, I am incredibly proud of the resolution not just of this book, but of the series as a whole. There were victories and defeats. Relationships built and lives lost. The stakes were high, and somehow this small family from Colorado and a few of their resourceful friends managed to save the world.

  It can sound like a cliché when a writer says that sometimes these characters write themselves, but I can honestly say it felt that way sometimes. Angel, Rhonda, Max, and everyone else have been growing for five full novels and by the time we got to book six, they had their own full-blown personalities, I was just there to let them speak.

  Of course, not all endings are happy ones, and unfortunately characters like Phil sometimes end up in the crossfire. I hadn’t intended for him to not make it to see his family safe and sound in their rural cabin paradise, but as I said, sometimes these things write themselves. Ultimately he died so that Brad could live, and I think he’d be happy with that.

  So we say good-bye to Darkness Rising. Is this the end, for good? Honestly, I’m not sure. I left the ending open so that more stories could potentially be told, though I’ve moved on to other worlds at the moment. I miss the Frasers, though, and look forward to a potential opportunity to tell more stories with the gang. We’ll see if that happens or not.

  Lastly, I just wanted to extend a sincere and honest thank you to Mike Kraus for the opportunity to play in his playground. This has been one of my most rewarding experiences as an author, and I’m ecstatic to have this unique opportunity. Thank you to all of his faithful readers who have accepted my piece of his pie with grace and kindness, and I very much appreciate everyone’s enthusiastic support.

  Stay tuned, you haven’t heard the last of me.

  -Justin

  *****

  Dear Readers,

  The storyline that developed from Darkness Rising wasn’t one that I would have constructed had I been writing on my own, but I think that’s why it’s been so doggone fun. Seeing a dysfunctional family go from being on a camping trip to managing to pull together to survive the end of the world has been something of a treat to read and help develop. Each of the characters developed and matured in their own way and that’s something that’s super important for a story and I think we pulled it off in spades.

  For me, I think Phil’s journey was one of the most interesting. He started off as a distant father, loving but obsessed with his work over everything else. He had no real survival skills, no combat skills and is someone who would generally be largely useless in a survival situation except for one thing: his ability and willingness to learn. I’ll fully admit that when I read his death scene I had to wipe away a few tears. His love for his family drove him to develop and adapt and become a leader, something that his family desperately needed in order to survive.

  Working with Justin has been absolutely fantastic. He’s the very definition of professional and has tremendous writing abilities. I’m really glad that we’ll be continuing to work together in the future. We have a couple of projects that are being cooked up right now, and I can’t wait for you to see them.

  If you enjoyed this story and/or any of my other stories, you should really sign up for my newsletter. I send out quick messages a few times a month and I take a totally different approach to my newsletters than other authors. Where other authors see a newsletter as a selling tool first and foremost I see it as a way to connect with my readers first and foremost. I've met some terrific people (like my AWESOME beta readers) and really enjoy talking to folks who email me.

  Don't like email newsletters? I also keep my Facebook page updated and you can message me through there as well if you prefer FB to email. Feel free to drop me a line via email/FB. I'd love to hear from you.

  Catch you in the next book!

  -Mike

  Other Post-Apocalyptic Books from Mike Kraus

  Final Dawn: The Complete Original Series Box Set

  Clocking in at nearly 300,000 words with over 250,000 copies sold, this is the complete collection of the original bestselling post-apocalyptic Final Dawn series. If you enjoy gripping, thrilling post-apocalyptic action with compelling and well-written characters you’ll love Final Dawn.

  Final Dawn: Arkhangelsk: The Complete Trilogy Box Set

  The Arkhangelsk Trilogy is the first follow-up series set in the bestselling Final Dawn universe and delivers more thrills, fun and just a few scares. The crew of the Russian Typhoon submarine Arkhangelsk travel to a foreign shore in search of survivors, but what the find threatens their fragile rebuilding efforts in the post-apocalyptic world.

  No Sanctuary

  A nationwide terrorist attack has left the country in shambles and the country's transportation capabilities are crippled beyond repair. Frank Richards barely escapes with his life when he watches his truck explode in front of his eyes. As chaos descends across the country, Frank's home-grown survival and preparedness training and the help of a mysterious stranger he meets are the only things he can rely on to see him safely across the thousand miles separating him and his loved ones.

  Surviving the Fall

  Surviving the Fall is an episodic post-apocalyptic series that follows Rick and Dianne Waters as they struggle to survive after a devastating and mysterious worldwide attack. Trapped on the opposite side of the country from his family, Rick must fight to get home while his wife and children struggle to survive as danger lurks around every corner.

  Prip’Yat: The Beast of Chernobyl

  Two teens and two Spetsnaz officers travel to the town of Prip’Yat set just outside the remains of the Chernobyl power plant. The teens are there for a night of exploration. The special forces are there to pursue a creature that shouldn’t exist. This short thriller set around the site of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster will keep your heart racing right through to the very end.

  Other Fantasy Books from Mike Kraus

  The Makeshift Wizard: Death Magic

  The Makeshift Wizard series is a new action-packed urban fantasy series from bestselling post-apocalyptic author Mike Kraus writing as MJ Kraus.

  My job was supposed to be easy. Investigate a bleed farm, find the a-hole vamps who've been kidnapping Normals and bring down some street justice. Now I've got a relic in my hands that was created with the blood and death magic of an elder Vampire and a whole lot more questions than answers.

  TURNING

  POINT

  Darkness Rising Series

  Book 6

  By

  Justin Bell

  Mike Kraus

  © 2018 Muonic Press Inc

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  www.JustinBellAuthor.com

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