Night: Final Awakening Book Three (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller)

by J. Thorn

  “Looking good, ladies.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Saw said.

  Dax brushed ash from his arms, his pants, the front of his shirt—he even had ash stuck in his ears. He closed his eyes to concentrate, but couldn’t feel the pulse in his chest as he had before the tree exploded. And although he couldn’t be certain, he doubted he’d ever hear Papa Midnight’s voice again.

  “The tree,” he said as the girls embraced him, one at a time. “The tree was the Angel.”

  “Then why did you set it on fire?” Zoe asked.

  Papa Midnight had never explicitly told him to burn the tree, so Dax wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Luckily, Alex did first.

  “That was an Angel Oak. Many true believers think those trees are guardians. They protect us from vampiric forces. You see, you have to destroy the Angel Oak for protection.”

  “I don’t understand,” Saw said. “You have to set an angel on fire to save yourself?”

  “That’s the beauty of it,” Alex continued, now staring into Dax’s eyes. “Ash of Oak kills the Masters. It’s like, worse for them than silver. Dax knew it. He saved us all.”

  “I had a little help figuring that out,” he said, smiling as he thought of his last encounter with Papa Midnight.

  Zoe looked around. “So, the Masters are all dead?”

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “They are. And there’s something else you need to see, Dax.”

  Dax followed the Casket Girls, led by Alex. If it hadn’t been for the old farmhouse, he wouldn’t have known exactly where he was. He’d somehow ended up several hundred feet from the crater that had once been the Angel Oak.

  Nobody had escaped the battle uninjured, though—not even the house. The storm had ripped a section of the roof off, and most of the windows had been blown out. Much of the furniture and other things from inside now lay scattered across the ground.

  Alex walked them around to the other side of the house, where they could gaze in all directions at the fields.

  Dax froze.

  Hundreds of bodies lay motionless on the ground before him. He hadn’t seen them before because his view had been obstructed by the house.

  “I don’t understand,” Dax said. “I watched the Masters die. Why are the Screamers still here?”

  “They’re no longer ‘Screamers,’” Zoe said.

  Dax took a step back as he took a deep breath. He turned his head sideways.

  “You mean, they’re—”

  On the field amongst the bodies, a hand raised. Then another, and another, and another. They began to moan.

  A man stood, his back to Dax. He slowly turned around, and Dax looked at his face.

  No glow—human eyes.

  Words replaced moans, and within moments, what had formerly been an army of Screamers was now a crowd of confused, tired people—alive and human.

  The pile of bodies near the tractor remained motionless, the Screamers killed by Dax and the Casket Girls during the battle. But so many more had been released from the psychic hold of the Master vampire who had turned them, and they were now stumbling through the fields, trying to figure out exactly what had happened.

  “We need to get these people food and water,” Dax said. “As much as we—”

  “Dax.”

  He swallowed hard when he heard his name. He recognized that voice.

  Dax turned around and saw Monica standing before him, holding the hands of Darius and Anthony. Kim and Kanesha joined them. Their eyes glistened with tears of joy, but they didn’t glow.

  The children ran into his arms and Dax squatted to hug them all at once. He kissed them on the head. But his smile faded as he spoke to Monica.

  “Kevin?”

  Monica stepped to the side, and the little boy rushed into Dax’s arms. Dax whispered, “I’m sorry,” into Kevin’s ear.

  “It’s okay,” Kevin said.

  Dax stood up as the kids ran around him, all trying to tell their stories at the same time. He saw the Casket Girls standing off to the side, all three with wide smiles. Saw appeared to be crying—something Dax thought he’d never see.

  Alex gave Dax a thumbs up.

  Gabby’s son, Anthony, said, “Are we safe now, Uncle Dax?”

  Dax glanced toward the crossroads where the Angel Oak had once stood. He could have sworn he saw an African American man standing there in a white suit and holding a cane.

  Dax waved, and the man waved back.

  “Who are you waving at?” Anthony asked.

  Dax looked down at the boy, then looked up, and the man was gone.

  “No one, buddy. And yeah, I think we’re safe now.” He ruffled Anthony’s head. “I think everything’s going to be fine now.”

  Epilogue

  Almost a week without rain had allowed them to hunt for food and clean up the farm, but the scorching Mississippi sun had worn folks down. Dehydration and sunstroke had become real threats to young and old alike.

  But they were alive.

  Dax drove another nail into the shingle, then wiped his brow. He looked out over the field below. People had erected dozens of makeshift tents, and everyone did their fair share of the work as they tried to bring a sense of normalcy and routine back to their lives.

  “This might work,” the man to Dax’s left said as he spread tar over another hole in the roof.

  “What?” Dax asked, lost in his thoughts.

  The man laughed. “Patching the roof up so we can use the house. What did you think I was talking about?”

  “Sorry. I zoned out for a minute.”

  “It’s all good, man. Hey, why don’t you take a break?”

  “It’s all right. I can keep going.”

  “No, seriously. Jump off here. We’re almost done. I can finish up.”

  “You sure?”

  “I was an independent contractor before all this.” He had the weathered skin and calloused hands to prove it. “I can handle it. You’ve got a lot of other stuff to take care of.”

  “Thanks,” Dax said, and he crawled to the ladder.

  When he reached the ground, Dax removed his gloves and put them in his back pocket. Smiling faces greeted him as they walked by. He had earned their respect, and he could feel it in every casual interaction and conversation he had. Dax wondered how many people knew his story—where he had been when the world had fallen apart. It didn’t matter now. He had earned the right to lead, and people were counting on him to help rebuild a community in this new and different time.

  Dax went into the house. He picked up a towel from the table and used it to wipe his face. Several people sitting in the living room greeted Dax as he walked by. He waved, then headed into the kitchen. The sweet smell of Texas-style brisket made him stop and smile.

  Monica stood at the island, wearing an apron as she sliced the beef. Kim and Kanesha moved about the kitchen, arranging utensils and grabbing plates.

  “That smells amazing,” Dax said.

  “Cliff cooked it for 8 hours, and he pulled it off the coals a few minutes ago. It’s hard to keep everyone away. Especially these two.”

  “We can’t help that we’re so hungry,” Kim said.

  “You two listen to Monica. All right?”

  Both girls nodded.

  “Alex was looking for you,” Monica said. “I think she’s working in the barn.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go find her.”

  Monica went back to cutting up the beef, and Dax stood there for another moment, watching her.

  “What?”

  Dax smiled. “I’m proud of you. And I know your mom would be proud of you, too.”

  She clicked her tongue and looked around, hoping Dax wasn’t embarrassing her within earshot of any of the cute boys. He headed for the back door.

  Outside, Darius and Kevin threw a football with a couple of the other kids who had arrived with Cliff and Isabelle. Anthony sat in the grass, playing with toy construction vehicles. Dax rubbed the young boy’s head.

  “Catch.”


  Dax looked up to see the football coming right at his face. He raised his hands just in time to catch the ball. Kevin laughed.

  “I almost got you!”

  “Yeah, well, lucky for me I’ve got great hands. Now, go long.”

  Kevin launched into a sprint and Darius chased him, hoping to intercept the pass. Dax took two steps forward and threw a perfect pass over the boy’s shoulder, dropping the ball right into Kevin’s hands. But at the last second, Darius jumped in front of Kevin and caught the ball. Kevin then ran after Darius and tackled him. The boys laughed, and it all brought a grin to Dax’s face. He shook his head and headed for the barn as they wrestled for the football.

  A rust-red pickup truck sat inside of the barn. Saw propped the hood and had her upper body buried deep in the engine. It looked like the truck was trying to eat her. She had found it a mile or so north on 49, and several people had helped her push it back to the farm.

  Alex and Zoe sat on bales of hay talking to a few other people who were milling around the barn. A teenage boy stood next to the truck with a handful of wrenches, glancing from the tools to Saw’s low-cut jeans as she bent over underneath the hood. She had her t-shirt knotted to the side and sweat glistened on her lower back.

  “Hand me the fucking half-inch socket,” Saw said, reaching her hand out. “Jesus Christ, will you pay attention, Garrett?”

  Dax laughed as the boy’s face became as red as the truck. He fumbled through the tools, trying to get Saw the socket she needed.

  Alex and Zoe looked up when they heard Dax. Saw stood up and stepped out from beneath the hood, her face streaked with black grime.

  “I heard you were looking for me,” Dax said to Alex.

  “Can we have a few minutes alone?” Alex asked the other people sitting with them.

  They got up and left the barn. The teenager didn’t.

  “You, too, dumb ass,” Saw said to him.

  “Oh,” Garrett said. “Sorry.” He ran out.

  Dax grinned and shook his head. “You could be a little nicer. He’s got a major crush.”

  “Yeah, and if he touches me, I’ll break his fucking arm. Jump in the driver’s seat and see if this bitch will start?”

  Dax laughed. “Yes, Captain.”

  He climbed into the truck. “Tell me when.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Dax turned the key. The engine coughed and backfired. On the fourth crank, the motor roared to life. He gave it some gas, then stepped out.

  “Damn, you’re a real gearhead. It’s sure nice having someone else around who can fix shit.”

  When Saw slammed the hood down, she looked at Alex. It was that look again. Dax had gotten to know the Casket Girls almost as well as they knew each other.

  “You’re leaving.”

  The redhead moved the hair out of her eyes and nodded.

  “We’re just getting started here,” Dax said. “We can make this home.”

  “Nothing we do here will make this feel like home,” Zoe said.

  Dax pursed his lips and nodded. “New Orleans.”

  Alex nodded. “It’s where we belong. You should come with us,” she said.

  Dax put his hands on his hips and walked out of the barn. He looked at the people working on the house and in the fields—two frames going up for two new houses. The kids laughed as they played football. Through the kitchen window, he could see Monica grinning as she tried keeping the kids from swiping cuts of the brisket.

  “This is my home now,” he said.

  “Then you understand why we’ve gotta go,” Alex said.

  Dax nodded.

  One at a time, he hugged the Casket Girls and gave them each a friendly kiss. Alex climbed behind the driver’s seat of the truck, and Zoe sat in the passenger seat. Saw hopped in the back.

  Dax put his forearms on the frame of the driver’s side window.

  “You girls gonna be all right?”

  “Yeah,” Alex said.

  “We can take care of ourselves,” Zoe said. “Did it long before your punk-ass showed up.”

  “Yep, that’s true,” Dax said. He looked at Alex. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “We know,” Saw said.

  They all laughed.

  “Look us up if you ever make it back to the Big Easy,” Alex said.

  “Exactly how am I supposed to do that?”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to find us.”

  Dax grinned. As much as he had thought about returning to New Orleans, there was nothing left for him in the city. He had started a new life—a fresh beginning. Dax had a feeling that this might be the last time he would talk to the Casket Girls.

  He stepped back from the truck, allowing Alex to slowly pull forward. Dax followed them out of the barn as both Alex and Zoe waved. He waved back, then looked at Saw.

  She raised an eyebrow and Dax flipped her the bird.

  The girl laughed and returned the gesture.

  Standing outside the barn, Dax watched them drive through the field and turn south on the highway, disappearing in a cloud of dust and exhaust.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the kids approaching. They ran to the barn—all six of them. He looked to his right to see a flash of black fur. Then he heard a bark.

  A black lab came around the corner. It panted, its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth.

  “Hey, buddy,” Dax said, petting the dog on the head. “You thirsty?”

  Monica was the first to reach Dax and asked, “Where did the girls go?”

  “Home.”

  “A dog!” Kanesha said. The kids surrounded the lab, petting the dog while it licked their faces.

  “Can we keep ‘im, Dax?”

  “Only if you promise to take care of him.” The same condition uttered by parents about pets since the dawn of time. “Feed him, walk him…”

  “We will! We will!” they cried.

  After everything, he believed they had a chance. The night was over, and this was a new dawn.

  “We’ve gotta give the puppy a name,” Kim said.

  “I want to name him!” Anthony said.

  “No, I get to,” Kevin said.

  Dax looked down at the male lab. It stared back with big brown eyes, black fur matted and a cut on its paw—otherwise healthy and happy. They all had wounds to heal, even the pets.

  “He’s already got a name,” Dax said.

  “What is it?” Monica asked.

  Dax grinned as he patted the dog on the head.

  “His name is Midnight.”

  Arrival

  Book One of War For Earth

  The new alien invasion post-apocalyptic series from J. Thorn and Zach Bohannon

  Coming Fall 2017

  Sign up for updates at:

  www.moltenuniversemedia.com/warforearth

  About J. Thorn

  J. Thorn is a Top 100 Most Popular Author in Horror, Science Fiction, Action & Adventure and Fantasy (Amazon Author Rank). He has published over one million words and has sold more than 170,000 books worldwide.

  He is an official, active member of the Horror Writers Association and a member of the Great Lakes Association of Horror Writers. J. is a contributor to disinformation.com and a staff writer for HeavyPlanet.net as well as a founding board member of the Author Marketing Institute.

  For More Information

  www.jthorn.net

  jthorn.writer@gmail.com

  About Zach Bohannon

  Zach Bohannon is a horror, science fiction, and fantasy author. His critically acclaimed post-apocalyptic zombie series, Empty Bodies, is a former Amazon #1 bestseller. He lives in Nashville, Tennessee with his wife, daughter, and German shepherd. He loves hockey, heavy metal, video games, reading, and he doesn’t trust a beer he can see through. He’s a retired drummer, and has had a beard since 2003—long before it was cool.

  For More Information

  www.zachbohannon.com

  info@zachbohannon.com