Lone Survivor (Book 4): All That Rises

by Hunt, Jack

  ALL THAT RISES

  Jack Hunt

  Direct Response Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by Jack Hunt

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  ALL THAT RISES book 4 is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Also by Jack Hunt

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  The Agora Virus series

  Phobia

  Anxiety

  Strain

  The War Buds series

  War Buds 1

  War Buds 2

  War Buds 3

  Camp Zero series

  State of Panic

  State of Shock

  State of Decay

  Renegades series

  The Renegades

  The Renegades Book 2: Aftermath

  The Renegades Book 3: Fortress

  The Renegades Book 4: Colony

  The Renegades Book 5: United

  The Wild Ones Duology

  The Wild Ones Book 1

  The Wild Ones Book 2

  The EMP Survival series

  Days of Panic

  Days of Chaos

  Days of Danger

  Days of Terror

  The Against All Odds Duology

  As We Fall

  As We Break

  The Amygdala Syndrome series

  Unstable

  Unhinged

  Survival Rules series

  Rules of Survival

  Rules of Conflict

  Rules of Darkness

  Rules of Engagement

  Lone Survivor series

  All That Remains

  All That Survives

  All That Escapes

  All That Rises

  Mavericks series

  Mavericks: Hunters Moon

  Time Agents series

  Killing Time

  Single Novels

  Blackout

  Defiant

  Darkest Hour

  Final Impact

  The Year Without Summer

  The Last Storm

  The Last Magician

  For my Family

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  A Plea

  Readers Team

  About the Author

  Prologue

  It was a painful sight.

  Beth Sullivan stood in the warm sunroom observing from afar the interaction between Landon and Sara who’d stepped outside for privacy. Although she could have walked away and given them space, how could she? For seven months her instincts had been to stay close. She briefly cast a sideways glance at the stranger who’d only minutes earlier been lip-locked with Sara. He shifted from one foot to the next, red-faced and uncomfortable. Did he feel the same way? Though Landon had mentioned marriage troubles, she got a sense that it was minor, nothing more than the kind of ordeal that every couple faced. Still, seven months was a long time to be apart.

  “Dad?” a voice said from behind her. Beth turned to see an emo looking kid, similar in age to her, and to his left some thin guy in an army jacket eying her with a smirk.

  “You must be Max,” she said. He acknowledged her with a nod. “Your dad mentioned you.”

  His brow furrowed. “Sorry. Who are you?”

  “Oh, um, Beth,” she said, extending a hand. “A friend of your father’s.” As he reached to shake it the other kid darted in front of him and took his place.

  “Hellooo sweetheart. Aren’t you a breath of fresh air. I’m Eddie. Eddie Raymond but you can call me…” He took a deep breath as if struggling to summon the words. “Well, whatever you like.”

  He flashed his pearly whites.

  “I suggest douche bag.” Max peered over his shoulder with a grin to which Eddie reacted by nudging him lightly in the gut, never taking his eyes off Beth for even a second.

  “Ah… don’t listen to him,” he said waving his hand. “He’s just sour. I was only telling Max yesterday that this town was in dire need of a pretty face. Wasn’t I, Max?”

  Beth pried her hand from Eddie’s grip. Unimpressed, she raised an eyebrow and turned away to make it clear she wasn’t interested. Max took a few steps toward the door that led out into the yard and the stranger stepped in front of him. “Uh, Max, you might want to give them a moment.”

  They couldn’t hear the conversation outside but it was clearly not going well.

  Max motioned with a finger. “Jake, that’s my...”

  Finally a name.

  “Max, I know, but—”

  As Max went to step by him, Jake placed a hand on his shoulder. His timing couldn’t have been better. Sara let out a gut wrenching scream, similar to Dakota when she found her dead son. Heads swiveled. Sara pounded on Landon’s chest before her legs buckled and she collapsed into his arms.

  “Mom!” Max darted around Jake and had made it halfway between the house and his parents when Landon extended a hand of caution. A few words were exchanged, then Max staggered back, shaking his head before he turned and sprinted away without greeting his father. Beth squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the weight of the moment, knowing full well that Landon had just delivered the devastating news of Ellie’s demise.

  Near her knees, Grizzly whined as if sensing Landon’s pain. “Come on, boy,” she said lowering her head and turning to walk out.

  Over the months of hiking the Appalachian Trail, they’d talked about how he would deliver the news if his family was still alive, but no amount of discussing could have prepared them for that.

  Everyone in the house had heard the scream as several faces filled the hallway. Dakota emerged from the kitchen and met Beth on the way back. One glance, that was all it took. She didn’t need to say anything as Landon had already given her the heads-up prior to arrival.

  Beth took a seat at the kitchen table as others hurried to see what all the commotion was about. Although Landon had been hopeful about the coming days, and she wanted to believe there was a future for them, would others see it that way?

  1

  Two days later

  Mick Bennington hated to be associated with government, as they’d never done him any favors, but his hatred for Sam Daniels ran far deeper. Colonel Lukeman led him into the tent of FEMA rep David Harris. The spindly looking man clothed in a gray suit
and red tie looked out of place among the military and survivors. His back was turned when they entered. He was staring at a map of the three counties. Harris reached up and inserted a red pin into the A-frame and wound a piece of twine around it and joined it with the location that represented the camp.

  “Sir,” Lukeman said.

  Harris turned. “Ah. Colonel. And…?”

  “Bennington, sir. Mick Bennington.”

  “Right. The man who says he can turn things around.” He chuckled as if he didn’t buy it. “I sure hope so.” He motioned with a hand to a seat. “Please, take a load off.”

  The colonel left them alone. The vinyl-coated nylon flooring crunched beneath his boots as he crossed the room and sat down. The tent was far more unpretentious than he expected. He’d heard rumors circulating that Harris was living the good life while the rest of them were in squalor. From what he could tell it was far from good.

  “Coffee?” Harris asked as he poured from a thermos into a plastic cup. Steam swirled above. Bennington gave a nod.

  It had been a long time since the massacre in Castine and yet not a single day had passed that he hadn’t thought about how he could avenge the deaths of those closest to him. He would have dealt with Sam by now had most of his men not been wiped out, and had militia not taken up guard in the town of Castine. That had certainly thrown a wrench in the works and slowed things down but it hadn’t deterred him from his goal of punishing Sam, and those who stood with him.

  Harris handed him a cup and took a seat behind a desk. “So. I apologize that we haven’t managed to speak sooner but my hands have been full.”

  “Trying your way?” Bennington asked as he took a sip of his drink.

  Harris stared back and smiled. “You could say that.” He lifted his eyes. “Castine has been more than a thorn in my side. I thought my offer was reasonable and Teresa thought your men could handle things. Perhaps that’s why I’m a little hesitant to hear from you.”

  “What happened in Castine was out of my control. I didn’t expect militia to assist.”

  “And yet here we are,” Harris said, taking another sip of his coffee and making Bennington feel like a fool. “So, what great plan do you have that avoids more bloodshed? Because as it stands I can’t afford to lose more soldiers.”

  Bennington shifted in his seat. “First, answer one question. Why don’t you just ignore them?”

  Harris smiled. “It would be easy to ignore them except what occurred in Castine and Belfast has inspired other towns to resist and we can’t afford to lose more.” He swiveled in his seat and pointed to the map. “You see all those red pins. Those are the towns along the coast that are working with us. The blue pins are the ones that have cut ties and are refusing to assist. A month ago all of them were red barring Belfast and Castine.” He turned back to him. “As you can see, things have changed. Some might say why bother? It’s just a few towns. It’s not as simple as that. I have a job to do here. We are limited both in manpower and where we receive resources. Initially we had enough but as time has passed and more people have come into the camp, we are faced with a dilemma. Do we turn people away or find new ways of feeding them?” He paused as if expecting Bennington to provide an answer. He didn’t, so he continued. “If I force the people of this camp to help, we will be playing into the propaganda that is spreading that says we are labor camps.” He reached over and took a stack of paper and tossed it in front of Bennington. He glanced at it. Sure enough, it was telling communities to cease fishing or providing any supplies to FEMA because they were running labor camps. “And you can tell from your stay that is simply not true. And if we take what we need by force, we are again villainized. Either people agree to help us or we must enforce martial law. So… as you can see, Mr. Bennington, I am in the unfortunate position of deciding what to do next. My priority are those people out there. However, until we put a stop to the militia, my hands are tied.”

  Bennington snorted. “And I thought you were just being dicks. You really are trying to help, aren’t you?”

  Harris set his coffee down on the table in front of him. “What other reason would we be here?”

  “People in town think you are on a power trip. Even those in the camp think you are hoarding supplies for yourself.”

  Harris glanced out. “I expect they do.”

  Bennington sighed. “I can help but I want something in return.”

  “Name it.”

  “Full cooperation from your soldiers. What I say goes.”

  “I can’t afford to lose more soldiers.”

  “You won’t. They would only be used as a distraction.”

  “A distraction?”

  Bennington nodded.

  Harris ran a hand over his face. “I will run it by the colonel.”

  “No need. He would work under me.”

  Harris snorted. “And you think I am on a power trip.”

  Bennington leaned forward in his seat. “Look, man. It’s no skin off my nose. I can walk out of here and go right back to what I was doing. Except what you are doing isn’t working. If it was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’ve been a resident of Castine since I was a kid. I know that place like the back of my hand. Sure, things went south the first time around but that was because we were ambushed. We had no idea that would happen. However, this time, I plan on giving them some of their own medicine.”

  “Ambushing them?”

  “No, something far better.”

  He studied Harris’ face. He was intrigued.

  “So…? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  Bennington leaned back in his seat. “We hamstring them.”

  Harris frowned. “Hamstring?”

  “In days of old it was done to prevent horses from being used in warfare. Right now, Castine and Belfast’s horses are the militia. Take them out of the agenda and you are left with but a few scared individuals. Ordinary folk. The same ones we managed to overpower.”

  “And the same ones who overpowered you.”

  Bennington shook his head and set his cup down. “Look, I’m gonna be blunt because you’re starting to piss me off. You either want my help or you don’t. But if you do, I would recommend being careful what you say next.”

  There was a long pause.

  He waved his hand. “Go ahead. Continue,” Harris replied.

  A moment of hesitation and then he spoke. “We sabotage their efforts. A house divided will not stand,” he said. “Right now the people think the militia are heroes. Modern-day outlaws. Like Robin Hood and his merry men. Taking from you and giving back to the people. So we must change that perception. Create a new story in the minds of locals. One that paints them in a different light.”

  Harris ran a hand over his jaw. “Create dissension?”

  “Exactly,” Bennington replied, jabbing his finger at him. “Going in guns blazing hasn’t got you anywhere. First, you haven’t managed to breach their checkpoints without coming under heavy fire and you’ve lost men. Additionally, sneaking in via the bay with a large group seeking to ambush them will only lead to more bloodshed and incite them to bump up security. So we take a different approach.”

  Harris cocked his head. “What do you have in mind?”

  “It’s been over a month since the last attack, correct?”

  Harris nodded again.

  “A small group will head in via the water. Leave it to us.”

  “Leave what to you?”

  “The less I say the better,” he said looking around. “You never know who might be listening. All I ask is that when we do it, you send some of the soldiers to the north end of the town. They’ll expect an ambush but there’s not enough of them to cover all of Castine. We’ll enter and take it from there.”

  “You’re going in?”

  He gave a nod.

  “Don’t you think that’s a little stupid since everyone knows you?”

  “We don’t plan on staying, Harris. Trust me. What I’m about to do will turn
this around. And if we play this right, you won’t have to waste a single bullet.”

  Harris got up and refilled his coffee. “I don’t know. The last time I trusted you, you let me down.”

  “Well, do you have a better idea?”

  “I want them out of there now. Not next week. Not next month. Now.”

  “And you will but you need to approach this from a different angle unless you want more soldiers to die.”

  Bennington knew he had him by the balls. He wouldn’t have gone to him if he thought he could pull it off alone but for it to work it relied on having a distraction.

  Harris took a sip of his coffee and stared at the map. Bennington could see he was contemplating it. “I won’t risk any more men dying.”

  “And you won’t need to. You need to trust me.”

  Harris snorted as he turned. “Trust is earned. And I’m afraid you’re a long way off.”

  Bennington could see he wasn’t getting anywhere. “Fine. I get it. You need proof that I’m capable. What if I bring you proof?”

  “Like what?”

  “Leave that to me.” He got up knowing what he had to do. Bennington expected Harris to be skeptical after the way things had ended. But if he wanted proof he would bring it. And he knew exactly where to start.

  Jake Parish sat in the sunroom that morning consuming his second cup of coffee. His nerves were on edge and rightly so. Neither he nor Sara had expected Landon to show. Sam had joined him for moral support. While he didn’t agree with how things had played out, he understood the importance of ensuring that the infrastructure they had in place remained intact. If he could have avoided the conversation he would have, but to move forward this had to be dealt with in person. The door opened and Landon stepped in closing it behind him. Jake’s stomach dropped as he rose to his feet. “I appreciate you coming.”