Darkest Storm

by Logan Keys

  DARKEST

  STORM

  The Long Fall Series

  Book 3

  By

  Logan Keys & Mike Kraus

  © 2018 Muonic Press, Inc.

  www.muonic.com

  hello@muonic.com

  www.logansfiction.com

  www.MikeKrausBooks.com

  hello@mikeKrausBooks.com

  www.facebook.com/MikeKrausBooks

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Authors’ Notes

  Want to get in touch with Logan? Just click here!

  Stay updated on Mike’s books by signing up for the Mike Kraus Reading List.

  Just click right here.

  You’ll be added to my reading list and I’ll also send you a copy of some of my other books to say thank you!

  (I hate spam with the burning passion of a thousand suns, and I promise that I’ll never spam you.)

  The Long Fall Book 4:

  Endless Night

  Special Thanks

  Many thanks to the awesome beta reading team, including Claudia, Glenda, James, Julie, Shari and Teresa. You all rock. :)

  Prologue

  After the Fall

  There were only a few ways people had coped with the end of the world as they knew it. Some simply pretended everything would eventually go back to the way it was. Denial.

  Some were so busy trying to survive, they merely kept their heads down and worked themselves to death so that each night they fell into their beds without much thought or contemplation of the future. Complacency.

  And still others didn’t really cope at all. There weren’t enough chores or distractions in the day to keep their minds off what they’d lost. They didn’t accept. They barely slept. And nothing changed the fact that the world was a blanket of white now with no escape. For Brittany Tanner, she was in this third grouping. Empty rage.

  With little to redirect her frustration, she would occasionally explode on the nearest person about the littlest of issues. They’d be focused on the minutiae of the moment, but she always had it on her mind in the background, like tabs left open on a computer—she’d never have the life she always dreamed of having before. Brittany had been in college, just starting her thoughts of a career and family. Husband and children. Instead of learning to write essays and trying her hand as an author like she’d always pictured, she’d learned to hunt. She’d learned to survive. Now, she just had to learn how to live again. Because this wasn’t living.

  The people at their encampment were nice enough, but she was surrounded by strangers and felt more distant every day. At first, they’d been inclusive, but as things went on, they gave up on the girl with the pale face and big eyes. She knew she looked lost, because she was.

  Chuck had found a broken young woman, wandering without a tether. Someone who wouldn’t be recognized as Brittany by anyone who knew her before. She was a shell of her sunny, optimistic self now, bitterly going through the motions. But for what purpose?

  She had no one or anything to keep her going. They were all gone.

  “Brittany,” Chuck said, calling her over to the fire. She hadn’t realized she was huddled in the corner looking quite frozen, lost in her thoughts of hopelessness once again.

  When she moved to sit beside him on the log, he gave her an extra blanket. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  But he gave a crooked, sad smile. He knew she wasn’t ever going to be okay again. Not after the accident.

  “I know you miss them,” was all he said.

  She nodded, afraid to speak, afraid to open her mouth. Not because she would cry, but because she would combust with fury. It was all so unfair.

  Disgusted with everything, Brittany stared into the fire and felt herself falling away, into despair, into a void of…empty rage.

  Chapter One

  South Polar Ocean

  Present Day

  Luckman had been seasick so long his seasickness had become seasick. The oceans were never going to calm with the upheaval of the earth responding to this new enemy. Human invention. Storm after storm tossed the frozen caps of the waves against the hull of the ship with a thud, bang, and boom. It was like being in the world’s busiest kitchen, only the cooks were Poseidon-sized giants.

  This way towards New Zealand was not usually a calm trip as it was, but adding the off-kilter weather, the ship heaved and the ocean threatened at every nautical mile. This ship’s name was the Ocean Giant, he was told. Fitting. Their route was for the Southern Islands for a stop, then from there, the long chug to California. But that would take months. And Luckman hoped to catch a plane from New Zealand to New York instead.

  He couldn’t hack another long voyage. This one was already seven days in with another five left, and he’d lost nearly ten pounds, yacking up everything he put into his stomach.

  “How are we doing?” a midshipman asked him with a half-smile. He was fighting laughter at the glare Luckman gave him. “How does a scientist avoid exploration on the sea?”

  “Easy. I just say no.” Luckman smiled, but then the deck lurched beneath his feet and so did his stomach. “Excuse me,” he said, leaning over the side and letting loose his lunch.

  The guy chuckled, obviously used to this. “Have you tried taking something?”

  Luckman wiped his mouth with a rag, breathing heavily. “A dozen somethings.”

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry.”

  Someone came out on deck with a radio. He walked quickly to the rail. “Listen!” he shouted, and Luckman and the midshipman gathered around.

  Luckman only caught pieces of the announcement at first as the wind was howling. “The earthquake has devastated more than nine states, and there’s now a divide between the east coast and middle America. Loss and casualties are unaccounted for—there are reports that hundreds of thousands of lives have been lost, maybe even a million. There is estimated millions of injured and hospitals cannot keep up with the people pouring in. The president has spoken and said that aid is being sent to the disaster area—the National Guard and reserves, as well as Army, Navy, and Air Force. Every able body has been immediately called to the affected areas. We will let you know more as we’re updated.” The second announcer choked on what sounded like tears of disbelief. “God be with America in this time.”

  Luckman shared a grim look with the two men who stood by him. “Has anyone talked to home?” They shook their heads.

  My God, Luckman thought. So many dead…

  He wanted to cry. He wanted to break down. But instead, he swallowed the guilt that was stuck like a piece of food in his throat. He was too late. He’d thought the killing cold was the only concern. He watched the dark water spilling by and shook his head. Luckman had to get to New York now more than ever. The cold would be moving still, and it would take the rest if he didn’t warn them.

  If he could just get to Cybercorp and explain…

  Holding the rail to steady himself, Luckman’s mind couldn’t grasp the concept of so many deaths. Another scientist who traveled with them came onto the deck. He walked over to the rail, his face pinched in deep thought. Luckman remembered his name was Holtz, and he’d been given a spot to travel with the ice core samples they were s
ending to California.

  He had a cigarette between his teeth. “You smoke?” Holtz asked.

  Luckman shook his head.

  “I quit but it seems a little pointless now, don’t you think?” He gave a dark laugh.

  There wasn’t anything funny about the situation, but Luckman had to remind himself that people dealt with grief differently. He couldn’t decide if the man was right about not worrying over things like lung cancer.

  Holtz had seemed reserved when Luckman had been introduced. He knew the man wasn’t with Cybercorp. He was an independent scientist, which meant he might be there to do an actual job. No agenda.

  “Can you believe this mess?” Holtz sounded like he was complaining about gridlock traffic and not a catastrophic earthquake. “I’ve been saying for years that we were due for something like this.” He flicked his ashes and leaned over the rail, spitting down into the water. “I wonder what New Zealand looks like. We might pull up and find a few million popsicles.” He laughed again and tapped his cigarette on the rail.

  Luckman pulled a face. Holtz seemed the type who’d given up on humanity—maybe felt they deserved the backlash from their pollution and what not. In his career, Luckman had met plenty of those types. He tried to change the subject. “Will that other ship stay with us the entire time?” Luckman asked, pointing ahead. There was another smaller ship in front of theirs that had joined them shortly after they left the harbor in Antarctica.

  “Yup. With the extra ice out here right now, that one, Polar Star, will cut through it for this one. This one is reinforced but not an ice breaker. The Ocean Giant won’t even get near the bigger icebergs. Can’t take the risk.”

  Luckman frowned at him. “I thought it was reinforced for an icy voyage?”

  The man smiled, his lips spewing a stream of smoke out. “Yes. But if it hits a ’berg and gets a big enough hole, it would sink like a rock same as any other. It’s not made to break the ice just occasionally rub up against it if they can’t help it.”

  “I see.”

  Luckman glanced over the edge. It was dark water, sloshing up and spraying the front of the ship. “That water is freezing,” he said. This coming from a guy who spent his life on glaciers. But water was a whole other ball game. You could walk on top of ice, and you could build a shelter on it, too. Water…it swallowed you up, and if it was cold enough, there was no escaping it.

  Holtz nodded, throwing his butt over the railing. “There was a guy out here not too long ago doing a swim for conservation. We’ve had a few.”

  “I thought I heard something like that. Was he in a wetsuit? How far did he swim?” Luckman shivered just imagining it.

  Holtz laughed. “Not far. Twenty minutes at a time. No suit. Just a speedo.”

  “Oh hell.” Luckman’s parts shriveled at the thought. He stared into the water trying not to picture sinking into the icy, blackness. “So…I guess twenty minutes is the cut off?”

  “I’d say sooner. He was in training for the cold water, to be sure.”

  “Yeah. That’s true.”

  “Oh look,” the guy said. “See that?”

  The dark water was mostly the color of ash, but where Holtz was pointing was a light blue that appeared to be ice, just below. It turned the cap of the waves turquoise. “Some of the crew calls them ghost ’bergs.”

  “Because they hide?”

  “Yes.” Holtz nodded. “I know the crabbers called them sinkers.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know why.”

  The scientist leaned back on his heels and looked out at the vast nothing of the Southern Ocean. “You know, massive ’bergs have calved off the Antarctic shelves, but lately the guys here say that it’s likely not from melting but from new edges growing, then weakening and dropping off. It’s been slow going because they have to dodge new ones cropping up all over the place, traveling across the shipping lanes. That’s the third ghost ’berg I’ve seen in the last half hour, hiding just under the water. It’s almost worse as we get into the South Pacific, because they melt down just enough to be nearly invisible.”

  Luckman felt like he was going to be sick again.

  “Oh man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that stuff. You all right?”

  Luckman nodded and made his way to his room to find some more medication. He couldn’t get it out of his mind though, and that night, he tossed and turned picturing the cold water flowing over his body, freezing him to death.

  Then he had nightmares about giant earthquakes. Luckman woke drenched in sweat, the echo of millions screaming for their lives ringing in his head. He searched his gaze in the mirror and realized he might be suffering from a touch of PTSD since losing his crew. The plane crash. And everything else that had occurred.

  He couldn’t sleep so he returned to the deck in the middle of the night. Even though he was fearful of the ocean at times, it was in his nature to stare down what scared him most. After all, he’d been doing one of the most dangerous jobs in the world half his life.

  He gazed into the black water with a sigh, trying to imagine having the balls to swim in it for a cause. “Twenty minutes,” Luckman said and shook his head.

  Chapter Two

  Staten Island, New York

  Michelle sat up, forgetting where she was for a moment. She rubbed her eyes and shivered. She was staying at Bob’s house in his guest room. She’d tried to give it to one of his children, but they’d refused, giving her a bedroom to herself. They’d thanked her at least a hundred times for helping Bob get home. His wife Carry had pulled her aside and sobbed while hugging her, saying she knew Michelle was an angel from heaven.

  The older couple had retired to their room with a look of bliss about their faces, and Michelle realized that all of the hell she had been through was worth it. She wanted a love like that. Like Bob and Carry.

  The house was quiet. Too quiet. She reached for her jacket and stuffed her arms in, zipping it up before putting her socks and shoes on. Michelle crept down the hallway listening for noise, and it wasn’t until she got to the kitchen that she realized Bob, his wife, and his children were all quietly gathered around the table. A radio was in front of Donny, Bob’s oldest and the spitting image of Bob, while he messed with it.

  Bob smiled halfheartedly at Michelle. “Power’s out.”

  It was still dark outside and Michelle’s phone was dead. She felt untethered to the world, floating in a void of no technology, social media, and nothing to check or use. It was a scary feeling.

  “What time is it?” she asked, and Michelle was surprised at the answer. “Eight.”

  “It’s so dark outside,” she said slowly creeping to the window.

  White was spackled to the pane as if someone sprayed frost from a can over the front in decoration for Christmas. She knew if she touched the glass it would be painfully cold. The radio crackled, and everyone leaned in to listen.

  “The devastation is beyond measure. The estimated loss of life is now at one million. Missing persons has reached two million and counting. Injured people are an astronomical number that double both the others, and everyone is working to retrieve as many from the rubble as possible. The National Guard is cautioning everyone to stay back from the hole that runs from Illinois down to Louisiana. There will be flooding. Flash flood warnings are listed for almost every city that verges on the hole.”

  There was a pause, and everyone sat on the edge of their seats to listen. A local news station broke through with a warning. The alert beeped several times and ended with one long beep.

  “The national weather service has issued a freeze warning in the following counties.” They listed off almost every county in New York. “Stay indoors. Elderly and young need to be checked for frostbite. The signs are as follows: Redness or pain in the affected area; discoloration; numbness.

  Governor Wilson has asked that citizens refrain from dialing nine-one-one unless it’s an actual emergency that can’t be handled by local authorities without the use of
an ambulance or fire department vehicle. There are local crime reporting lines being set up this moment.”

  “None of our phones work,” Janet, Bob’s second eldest said. “How would we call for help anyway?”

  “There is a boil alert for water. Do not ingest snow or anything from the tap without boiling before use. If your pipes are frozen, melt snow and drink with caution.”

  A few were wiping tears away as the earthquake news continued. Bob finally turned off the radio. “Better save the batteries.”

  “Cameron was right,” Michelle said, gobsmacked over the loss. It was too much to comprehend.

  New York had not even felt the quake, so it was like a sleeping giant out there—somewhere millions were hurting, and she couldn’t even see them because the television didn’t have power.

  “Are there any parts of the country with power?” Casey, Donny’s wife asked. Her husband grabbed her hand, hearing the shakiness in her voice.

  Michelle slumped down into her coat as Bob brought her a cup of coffee. “We’ve turned on the generator for a bit. There’ll be breakfast soon.”

  She thanked him and took a long sip. Guiltily she thought of how she was there drinking coffee and enjoying Bob’s wonderful family, while people were dying or suffering.

  The blizzard had done its job of covering the city in twenty inches of snow with more to come every day this week. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The freeze had come, and it was there to stay.

  Luckily for her, she’d joined the family when she did because they had a nice big fireplace and lots of firewood. But she glanced at Bob with concern. He was going to think she was crazy, but Michelle couldn’t hold off on saying it any longer.

  Bob met her eyes over the worried family members. Giving her a knowing look, she shrugged in return. “It’s cold,” Michelle said. “But not impassable yet.”