by Justin Bell
“Vicki, how are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m okay, sweetheart,” she replied. Everyone was a sweetheart to her.
“How about Bradley?”
Vicki’s face crumpled, and she looked away for a moment, blinked a few times, then looked back. “You know. Mostly the same.”
Rhonda hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how to frame the next question. She decided to just dive right in.
“We’re going to be leaving for Chicago soon,” she started, turning and looking out towards the sky, unable to look Vicki in the face. “We need to keep searching for Lydia. Do you think he wants to stay here? Or does he want to come with us?”
There was no verbal reply, and Rhonda wasn’t sure how to take that, so she turned back towards Vicki to get a look at her face. The woman looked pensive. Surprisingly so, Rhonda thought.
“I don’t even know how to raise a child in a world like this,” she said quietly, her fragile, broken vase voice finally starting to crack. “I’m not sure we can do it, Rhonda.”
While this answer sounded like it devastated Brad’s grandmother, it was just what Rhonda had hoped to hear. She didn’t want to tear the boy away from the only family he had left.
The boy had just lost the only two blood relatives he had. His closest relations. Rhonda had spent the past month trying to convince herself and everyone in her group that nothing was more important than the bonds of family—that was the whole reason they were making this trip. Who was she to suddenly discard those family bonds and tear an eleven-year-old away from the only family he had left? Did she have that right? Did she want that responsibility?
If the past month was any indication, the road they were on was fraught with danger. Lots of danger. Could she, in good conscience, pull Brad from the relative safety of his grandparents’ home and drag him into the line of fire?
But on the other hand, could they go on without him? He had become a surrogate son to them, and she had been emotional just thinking of returning him to his parents. Brad had already opened up a bit about his grandparents, saying that he didn’t see them often and didn’t have much of a connection to them beyond blood. That, plus the fact that they were older and likely unable to defend themselves as well as Rhonda, Phil and the rest of their small group, and the choice grew less hazy and more defined.
Now, with his parents gone, Brad was a mess, and he needed a connection to something. Was that connection here, with his blood whom he hardly knew, or with them, a group that wasn’t technically family to him, but over the past few weeks had bonded like one? And what did protection matter when it could be torn apart so easily, anyway?
“Let me talk to him, okay?” Rhonda said. “We’d love to have him with us, if you agree.”
Vicki nodded, swiping tears from her face. Winnie stepped towards her and gave her a brisk embrace which warmed her mother’s heart. The young girl was not known for her outbursts of public emotion, and in that moment, Rhonda seemed to realize just how much of a young woman she was becoming. She was taller than Vicki and stood with a stoic, iron clad confidence, a square of her shoulders that her mother had not recalled seeing before. Was she gaining belief in herself through all of this, or just a hardened, impenetrable shell?
Rhonda strode up the stairs, veering around the darkened patch of dried blood, and moved to the landing, giving Vicki a brief and gentle one-armed squeeze. She passed by her and went up into the apartment, immediately going up the stairs and glancing back towards Winnie.
“Win, hon, can you wait out there for your brother?”
Winnie nodded as Vicki entered and eased the door closed between them.
“Brad, honey?” Rhonda said as she worked her way into the guest room. Brad turned to look at her. To Rhonda’s surprise, there was a backpack in the corner of the room, stuffed full and zippered closed, resting at a lazy angle against a closet door.
“Is it time?” Brad asked, his voice a low monotone.
“Time for what?”
“Time to go.”
“Is that what you want?”
Brad nodded.
“You sure?”
“There’s nothing for me here,” Brad replied in a flat, matter-of-fact tone that was frightening for a boy of only eleven.
“Your grandparents?”
Brad shook his head. “I think I’d only remind them of mom and dad. And I don’t want to be here, anyway.”
Rhonda nodded. “Then yes, honey. Yes, it’s just about time. If you’re up for it.”
Brad twisted and rubbed the spots on his right side where bandages tugged firm with several slates of athletic tape.
“It doesn’t hurt really,” he said quietly. “At least not on the outside.” Brad looked off into the distance for a moment, then his eyes moved towards Rhonda. “Why them? Why did he shoot my mom and dad?”
Rhonda looked at him, trying to decipher the nature of his question. Was he curious, or was it some kind of accusation? Bitterness that his parents were the target?
“Everything happened so fast,” Rhonda said. “I think we were all the target. Max was lucky to get some shots off and kill the gunman in the car, otherwise, I’m sure we were next.”
Brad nodded, his face firm as if bolted together to keep a crashing wave from spilling over. If he let one piece relax, the whole thing was destined to crumble.
Rhonda felt a tear prickle her eye and blinked it away before Brad could see. She feared that if he saw her cry, then he might start, and it would only go downhill from there.
“Good boy,” she said. “You’re all packed, huh?” she asked, nodding towards the backpack. For the first time she noticed that a pistol filled a holster, piled next to the backpack.
He nodded.
“You’re carrying a gun?” Rhonda asked.
Brad nodded again.
Rhonda stepped towards him and sat down on his bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Are you okay with that?” she asked. “Max told me that they made you uncomfortable.”
“They made my mom uncomfortable,” Brad replied in the same flat, even tone. “But it’s different now.”
Rhonda nodded, patting him on the shoulder. “Okay. During the trip east, you can spend some time with Max, Clancy, and Angel. They’re all getting pretty good with these things. We want you to be safe, okay?”
“Okay, Mrs. Fraser.”
“Call me Rhonda, honey, okay? I think we’re on a first name basis by now. You did save my life, after all.”
Brad smiled, but didn’t look at her, his eyes still fixated on the weapon in the corner of the room.
“Stay here and rest. We’ll let you know when it’s time to go, okay?”
Brad nodded. Rhonda got up and saw Vicki standing in the doorway, her eyes wet with glistening tears.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and the two hugged. Rhonda broke away and headed out into the narrow hall, a hardwood floor passage that curled around from where the stairs extended, leading to a few other bedrooms spaced along the perimeter of the narrow, tall brownstone.
“We have something that might help,” Vicki said, walking quickly to catch up to Rhonda.
“What’s that?”
“A camper. An RV. It’s old, it’s pretty beat up, but it runs and it can hold quite a bit.”
Rhonda smiled. “I didn’t see an RV here anywhere.”
“We rent a storage place. Three blocks north of here. If nobody’s broken into it yet, then it’s parked there. I think the gas tank is even full. We’d filled it up and had gotten ready to head out right before we heard from Jeff and Monica.”
“Thank you,” Rhonda said, placing both hands on Vicki’s arms. “Thank you very much. Are you sure you won’t need it?”
Vicki’s face shifted, and she looked away. “No. No I don’t think we will.”
Her tone of voice and glance away told Rhonda all she needed to know, but she didn’t let on and she decided she wouldn’t tell Brad any of her suspicions. It was obv
ious the older couple had made up their minds about just how much of this new life they could take, and in one disturbing instant, Rhonda wondered how many others in the country were coming to the same nauseating conclusion.
She didn’t know what the roads would be like leading east to Chicago, but the RV would get them a good head start, anyway. And maybe they could find some back roads big enough to get a good chunk of the way there. It was better than setting off on foot, that much was certain.
Vicki broke away and turned, walking back towards Brad’s room, then disappeared inside. Rhonda turned as Phil emerged from their room, furthest in the corner on this second floor.
“Is it time?” he asked. Like Winnie, he wore a shoulder holster stuffed with a semi-automatic, but he also had a rifle slung across his shoulder. His well-groomed beard had spread into a sprawl of untamed facial hair, giving him an almost Grizzly Adams-like appearance, and deep inside Rhonda liked the new rugged look. She couldn’t help but notice his arms as well, his muscle definition returning to how it looked when they first met. He’d been doing the bulk of the physical labor over the past ten days, with both Rhonda and Clancy recuperating, though Angel had certainly pitched in as well.
“Just about,” Rhonda replied. “We’re waiting for Max to come back, but Brad’s already packed and ready. We need to be, too.”
“Max has been quite the determined watchman,” Phil said.
“I think he’s upset. As we all should be. Cavendish followed us all the way from Colorado and somehow we never saw him. Never suspected he was pursuing us. What happened to Brad’s parents…that’s on us. We can’t afford to make that mistake again. Brad and Max both understand that, I think.”
“So Brad’s coming with us?” Phil asked.
Rhonda nodded.
“Good. Angel, too?”
Rhonda nodded again. “He seems determined to stick with us no matter what. Greer, too. The DeAngelo’s have an RV for us, which will give us a good head start towards Chicago.”
“More good news,” Phil said.
Rhonda was quiet and looked away, up into a dark corner of where the ceiling met the wall. Up to where more eyes weren’t looking back.
“What’s the matter?” Phil asked, placing a palm to Rhonda’s arm and squeezing.
Rhonda looked back at him, her vision blurred by the formation of tears. “Do you think Chicago is like this?” she asked, gesturing out towards nothing in particular, though Phil knew what she was talking about.
“Burning? Abandoned?”
Rhonda nodded.
“Only one way to find out. Stay strong, Rhonda, okay? The only thing we’ve got left right now is our strength. Our strength and resolve to find Lydia. If we let that crack or falter, we’ve got nothing left to live for.”
Rhonda firmed her chin and nodded, drawing in a long, deep breath. "You’re right. Let’s get ready. The RV is stored three blocks north, and it’s still a long way to go to Chicago."
Gray Skies: Book 3 of the Darkness Rising Series
is now available!
Author’s Notes
March 6, 2018
Dear Readers,
Well, with Book Two in hand, it’s official, Darkness Rising is a series!
When Mike was inquiring about collaborators for a new post-apocalyptic series, I was excited and I’ll admit, a little intimidated. He knows his way around a post-apocalypse story, that much is for sure, and I felt like in Book One I was really trying to get my bearings. Get a feel for what works in post-apocalyptic, what doesn’t work, and just how much I could push my luck with my thriller tendencies before things shifted.
In Book Two I felt like I was getting my feet under me. From my perspective, obviously the focus of the story is on the Fraser family (and Brad) but when you’re talking about a six book story, keeping things fresh and new is essential. There are going to be new people they run into and when you’re talking about an International incident like nuclear detonations, at some point you know government agencies are going to be involved.
Making Brandon Liu an important part of the story was something that became pretty clear pretty early. In the grand scheme of things, he’s pretty small fish, a Customs and Border Patrol agent from Boston, but in a world where things can end in the blink of an eye, every person becomes important. This was key to the development of all of these characters.
I’ve been writing for many, many years (though I’ve only been publishing since 2013) and I’m a pretty avid outliner. I strongly believe in developing the story before you tell it. That being said, in Book Two, I was taken by surprise on more than one occasion, and I truly believe that the characters involved told the story, as it should be. A minor conflict near the beginning of Book Two ended up forming a storyline that continues throughout the Darkness Rising series, and a pretty vital character was born.
Speaking of vital characters, you’ll meet a former combat engineer in this book, a guy who returned from overseas just in time for things to go sideways, and is learning to deal with that the only way he knows how… by blowing stuff up. I ramped up the action a little bit in Book Two, I think, but at its core, the story is still about characters, families, and relationships…there just happens to be a post-nuclear Armageddon going on in the background.
At this point I’ve written several books, some long and some short, and each installment of Darkness Rising has felt like magic. Things just seem to come together and fit, which isn’t always the case, especially when the story deviates from my precious outline. Hopefully the tale continues to be as captivating to read as it has been to write, and I’m greatly looking forward to sharing even more adventures with you all!
On to Book Three!
-Justin
*****
Dear Reader,
I hope you all enjoyed reading this book as much as I did! As I’ve said many times in the past, my hands-down favorite part of reading Justin’s work is getting to read his action scenes. Well, that and the fact that I get to see future books before anyone else! The story is going to get CRAZY in book 3 and beyond.
Seriously, though, Justin’s thriller background really shines through in Darkness Rising, but it’s tempered with the perfect amount of classic post-apocalyptic plot devices and a story that is, I think, both unique and timely. Another thing I like are the characters that we’ve developed. They feel viscerally real, with appropriate weight given to their strengths and weaknesses.
There aren’t any superheroes who build an army up and go take over everything and establish a new government. Being a superhero means you find food to fill your family’s belly for a night, or you fight off someone who wants to steal from you, or you get a few gallons of gasoline or a half-empty box of shotgun shells. To me, despite the fictional hand-waving storytelling devices that we use—just like pretty much all authors use, too—Darkness Rising feels real.
And, of course, no one is bulletproof in this world—not even the bystanders. I really didn’t want to Brad’s parents to die like they did, but it’s yet another reminder that life after society collapses isn’t pretty. At all.
Right now, as we get ready to push book 2 out to the world and bump up the publishing date on it, we’re starting on the final formatting and initial editing of book 3 and I’m already getting drafts of book 4 and reviewing those, making notes, comments and additions to them. It’s not easy to juggle multiple series, but it’s something I’m starting to get used to and it’s so much fun getting to read so many awesome stories.
One of the things I’ve learned a lot about over the last few months as I’ve been working to develop my publishing company is that getting prep work done up front is vital. That’s why we’re working on book 4 when book 2 isn’t even technically published yet. By making sure we stay ahead of the curve, we can meet pre-order deadlines, get books out on a monthly basis and ensure that we keep our quality standards as high as possible.
If you enjoyed this story and/or any of my other stories, you should r
eally 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.
