The Left Series (Book 7): Left Amongst The Corpses

by Christian Fletcher

  I was surprised McElroy thought I was talking sense for once. He didn’t often think so.

  Wingate shrieked in frustration. “I think you’ve all lost your minds. But having listened to your reasons, it kind of makes some sense in a weird kind of way. I wished I hadn’t said that and I wish there was another way. Oh, shit, this really fucking sucks.” Wingate lay back down on the front seats on her back, covering her face with her hands.

  Smith clapped his hands. “I know it’s going to work, guys.”

  I wasn’t so sure but we weren’t blessed with a whole bunch of alternatives. We were back to facing the roaring furnace of uncertain fate. The hope of a new and pleasant life was gone but at least Smith’s plan gave us something to aim for, some kind of goal, even if it wasn’t a completely safe one.

  I felt we had to try. Nobody could predict the future and what it held. So far, along this journey we’d survived by the skin of our teeth. I hoped we had one last installment of luck on our side before the Grim Reaper finally caught up with us.

  A new day dawned and I tried to feel positive. We were still alive and about to commence another arduous journey. Who knew if we’d even make it back to the warship unscathed?

  I thought of Jericho Kline’s last words to me back at the church. He’d said ‘Go and live your lives.’ He seemed to know his time was up. I felt a cold shiver rise up my spine and then a tranquil, calm sensation rose within me. I swore I felt a hand on my shoulder at the same time. I hoped somehow and from somewhere it was Jericho Kline’s hand on my shoulder.

  I hoped Jericho Kline would guide me and look out for me and my unborn child from the spirit world or wherever it was he’d gone. I hoped he’d help me conquer my inner demons and help keep us alive, just for one more reckless escapade.

  THE END