The End Time Saga (Book 2): The Breaking

by Daniel Greene

  Kevin nodded back and headed out through the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, but your wife and daughter were already gone. They could not be helped,” Joseph said. You murdered them and didn’t even know it.

  “They’re dead,” Richard sobbed.

  Richard’s family still roams the earth. He is the Father of the entire infected human race.

  “Yes, Richard, but we still have a fighting chance. We need to get out of here. Do you have a car? Ours won’t make it.”

  The man looked up. “There’s one in the garage. Keys are here somewhere,” he said, sniffling. “Maybe if you untied me I could help.”

  “I’m not sure that is a good idea at this point. Kevin and Gwen, can you search for the keys?”

  They dug through drawers, cleared tables, and overturned couch cushions. Minutes passed with nothing, and then Joseph heard something. A lone scratching along the outside of the house.

  “Shhh. Do you hear that?” he hissed.

  Gwen stopped dumping out a drawer and looked for the noise scraping down the wall.

  “They’re coming. Kevin, the back door,” she hollered.

  Kevin sprinted into the kitchen, slamming the door.

  “Who’s coming?” Richard called out, looking over his shoulders.

  “The infected.”

  “They’ve never tried to get inside before,” Richard said. “Untie me.”

  “That’s ’cause you and your family were infected.”

  Pounding reverberated on the backdoor.

  “The bolt isn’t going to hold forever,” Gwen called into the living room.

  We have come too far to be trapped and eaten alive. Where were you going, Joseph? What lab were you going to study Patient Zero in? Did you think you could just find him and everything would be okay?

  “They are starting to push through. Any ideas would be good right about now,” Kevin said.

  “I don’t know.” Joseph stood up, cradling his limp numb arm.

  The three of them stood in the kitchen, staring at the door that rocked in its frame. Gory hands broke the glass and clawed through the window. Blood-caked fingers grasped and reached for them. Gwen pointed her carbine at the doorway.

  The faintest dud-dud-dud tickled Joseph’s ears.

  “Wait. I hear something,” Joseph said.

  “I know. It’s them,” Kevin groaned.

  “No. Something else. A motor.”

  Gwen tilted her head to the side. “I hear it too. It sounds like a helicopter.”

  Kevin looked panicked. “Do you think it’s the military coming after us?”

  “Surely they have better things to worry about than us,” Gwen said.

  “I’m not sure, and I don’t want to find out. Gather up Richard. I have a plan,” Joseph said.

  STEELE

  Grand Haven, MI

  The helicopters descended toward the beach where a blue pickup smoldered. Gray, almost black water churned out whitecaps that roared onto the shore. Sand blew up as the air was driven downward by the high-speed blades. The helicopter touched down as if the pilot was being gentle and then let it settle. The other helo touched down further up the beach.

  Steele and the other soldiers hopped off the helo, boots sinking in cold damp sand. The noise of the crashing waves was deafening. It achingly reminded Steele of his parents’ lake house less than sixty miles up the west coast of Michigan. His mother was there. He chased the thoughts from his mind, but they lingered, ghosts of the past.

  “We will be back,” were the only words he spoke to Ahmed. The man leaned on the edge of the helicopter, arms wrapped around his torso. A few of the soldiers stayed back with the helos, including one with a long hooked kukri on his back hip.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Lagging behind, Steele sprinted to fill in the gap that had widened between him and the other soldiers. Quickly they formed a perimeter around the house. Steele sprinted past the pickup, skipping steps to get closer to the soldiers.

  Shadows emerged from the side of the house. Master Sergeant Hunter fired bullets into a cluster of people. They collapsed as the rounds entered and exited their heads.

  The rapid shooting stopped, and Master Sergeant Hunter led his team aggressively around to the back. By the time Steele rounded the house, the squad had people facedown and were zip-tying them.

  Steele lowered his M4 carbine when he saw her. Blonde hair, facedown. He knew it was Gwen. Joseph looked up at him, glasses broken, arm heavily bandaged. Kevin struggled under Master Sergeant Hunter. The lanky man was no match for Hunter. An unknown man, who was already tied up, shouted, “Fuck you all.”

  “This is them,” Steele said.

  “Dr. Jackowski?” Master Sergeant Hunter said, crouching down.

  Joseph looked up, pained.

  “Yes, please release me. My arm,” Joseph said.

  Master Sergeant Hunter’s blade was out in a flash and he sliced through the zip-ties. Joseph collapsed.

  “Get me a stretcher,” Master Sergeant Hunter called out to his men. They moved fast, folding out a collapsible stretcher and quickly putting Joseph on it.

  Gunshots blared from the perimeter. Steele easily ignored them. He bent down, slinging out his blade. He sliced through the zip-ties constraining Gwen and pulled her upright. Her nose was swollen with a cut down the center like she had been in a boxing match.

  Her eyes met his. They were cold. Eyes that had seen too much. Not the woman he fell in love with. Once she was so caring, free and full of life. Now her eyes showed a soul that had suffered immensely, shrouded in sadness.

  “You came,” she said.

  “I did.”

  She looked at the nearby soldiers. “Can I have this back?” she said to Sergeant Hawkins, gesturing at her weapon.

  He gave her an incredulous look, then eyed Steele.

  “Don’t look at him. Give me my gun back,” she demanded.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sergeant Hawkins said. A slight smile broke across his face.

  Gwen checked the status of her weapon. “Now, where were we? I believe you were about to apologize,” she said.

  Steele was dumbfounded. She had always been capable, but she now acted like a stone-cold killer.

  “I. Um. I’m sorry.” He had no idea why he was sorry. Women were a fickle group, but it was safe to say that he probably had done something wrong.

  “Why are you sorry?” she asked, scolding him. Her chin rose ever so slightly as if it would make her taller than him, an impossibility.

  He took a stab at the only thing he could think of. “Because … I wasn’t here?”

  “And because you left me.”

  “And because I left you,” he repeated. He adjusted his feet, uncomfortable under her gaze.

  “That will have to do. Accepted.” She tightened her lips up.

  “What happened to your nose?” he asked. He reached out cautiously, afraid that if he touched her she might flinch away. Her nose was swollen and her right eye was purpled around the edges.

  “We will talk about it later.” Her eyes shifted away from his.

  He nodded. “Whoever did this will pay,” he said.

  Her eyes flashed anger followed by pain. “Yes, they will,” she said, and kissed his cheek like a delicate flower.

  Master Sergeant Hunter circled them up. “Joseph is secure. Let’s move to the beach.”

  They were off. Everyone ran across the road for the helicopters.

  The other squad of soldiers had set up a loose perimeter around the helos. Steele and Gwen didn’t stop running until they reached the lead helicopter. Colonel Kinnick was there, head lowered with a radio against it.

  “Sir, we have Dr. Jackowski, and Patient Zero. The doctor needs medical attention,” Master Sergeant Hunter said.

  “Outstanding, gentleman. Sergeant Hawkins, do not let him die on us, do you understand?” Colonel Kinnick commanded. Hope filled his eyes and energy seemed to fill him.

&
nbsp; “Not a problem,” Sergeant Hawkins said. He pulled out a trauma kit from a side compartment on the helicopter and hooked an IV into Joseph.

  “I’m waiting on an update from General Travis now. Master Sergeant Hunter, keep this place sterile while we work this out.”

  “Turmelle, make sure this perimeter is tighter than a tick’s ass.”

  The curly black-haired sergeant called out, “Baxter and Venezie, take south. Adams, you’re with me.” They ran in separate directions, kneeling down in firing positions.

  Kinnick held the microphone up to his mouth. “Sir, this is Colonel Kinnick. We have the Packages. What is our rally point, over?” The colonel held the radio microphone away from his mouth and waited for a response.

  “Sir, what is our rally point, over?” Colonel Kinnick repeated.

  “Kinnick, NORTHCOM is saying that you need … Sorry.” General Travis’s voice grew more faint. “Major Holt, what the hell was that?” came over the radio.

  “Is that him?” Steele asked. He gestured with his head at Patient Zero. Gwen nodded. Steele eyed the overweight middle-aged man slumped cross-legged in the sand, his hands bound behind his back. So that’s the bastard to blame for all this mess. A balding, mid-life-crisis-having, mini-van-driving dad. “I’m glad you got him,” he said. He gave Patient Zero a glare, letting him know that he despised his existence.

  “Sir, what is happening, over?” Colonel Kinnick repeated. He turned up the radio volume. Pounding could be heard over the static of the radio. Voices called out, frantic and alarmed.

  General Travis’s words came out crackled and broken like a crumbled-up jigsaw puzzle being shaken. “We need you to take your team to Rally Point Desperado. Alamo is overrun. I repeat, Alamo is overrun,” the general said. Each word came out faster than the last.

  “Sir, what do you mean Alamo is overrun? What happened to Rally Point Bravo and Charlie, over?” Colonel Kinnick eyed Master Sergeant Hunter. Gunfire sounded over the radio and then screaming. Kinnick looked down. The gray-haired colonel seemed to be taking it personally.

  “Sir, what is your status, over?” Colonel Kinnick said. He held the microphone under his lips in reflection. He knew. Steele knew. He’d heard it in the general’s voice. Terror, confusion, most of all fear. Kinnick looked back at the group. Static overtook the radio. It only played white noise.

  “The Pentagon has been overrun,” Colonel Kinnick said. He tossed the mic back into the chopper in disgust. “Those bastards!” Kinnick cursed. His eyes said he was ready for a fight, if only to just fight somebody.

  Steele crouched down and looked out over the beach. The dead were coming. They had heard, seen, or felt the living’s presence. They ambled down the sand. They came calling for their lives. They came to snuff out what little resistance the human race had to offer them. Steele wouldn’t lie down for them. He stood up, hefting his M4.

  “Colonel, what’s the plan?” Steele said.

  Colonel Kinnick gave Steele a hard look. “Goddamn it,” the colonel swore.

  Steele smiled grimly.

  “We lost comms with CDC a weeks ago. East Coast has crumbled. Both the Pentagon and Mount Eden are gone. I just don’t know,” Kinnick said, eyes weary. The hopelessness of the situation hung heavy on the men, like a rain cloud smothering them from above.

  “I can’t believe it’s come to this, but we have no choice. I guess it’s all we have left. Desperado,” Colonel Kinnick said.

  Steele didn’t know if it was a question or a statement. “What’s Desperado?” he said.

  “Our final rally point in the west. It’s a secret facility in Colorado. It was supposedly decommissioned in the early 2000s, but nothing is further from the truth. In fact, it was expanded.”

  The last holdout of a defeated government. Perfect.

  “Master Sergeant Hunter, get the boys prepped and ready to jump,” Kinnick said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Agent Steele.” Pain shrouded Kinnick’s eyes. Steele knew what he was going to say, so he made it easier on the man and cut him off.

  “Colonel. I appreciate the offer, but I think me and my crew are going to stay here. My mother lives about sixty miles up this coast.” Steele gestured north. “And I want to see her again.”

  Kinnick nodded, looking past Steele to the north. “I’ll make sure to clear the infected off this beach before we depart.”

  “Master Sergeant Hunter, let’s clear the beach for our allies. Sergeant Hawkins, make sure they are well supplied.”

  Master Sergeant Hunter waved a firing squad into position. They jogged down the sand, killing the infected in the shallows. Sergeant Hawkins unloaded packs of ammunition, food, and gear onto the sand.

  “Thank you, Colonel.”

  “No, thank you, Agent Steele. With men like you in the fight, I have no doubt we will weather the coming storm.” Kinnick gave Steele a sharp salute, one of respect.

  “Colonel, I’m not a saluting man, but keep up the good fight. The rest of us are counting on you. I hope my fighting days will be behind me.”

  “I have no doubt we will meet again.”

  Master Sergeant Hunter ran up with his squad. “Mate. Good luck out there.” The bearded operator shook Steele’s hand.

  “Stay frosty, Master Sergeant.”

  With a nod, Master Sergeant Hunter was back in the helo.

  The soldiers piled back in the helicopters and lifted off the ground. Joseph gave a wave and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Steele held his M4 over his head with both hands. The choppers thundered away, becoming tiny specks before disappearing into the gray puffy clouds.

  Gwen was glued to his side. She held a carbine across her chest like an operator. He never doubted it was inside her, but it still surprised him.

  Kevin picked up an M4 carbine along with a pack and shouldered it.

  “You good to go, Ahmed?” Steele said.

  Ahmed hefted a pack onto his shoulders with a faint grimace of pain. “I’ll be good.”

  Gwen smiled up at Steele. “I never doubted you would come back.”

  Dead bodies rolled and twisted in the crashing waves, but more walking ones emerged from the houses.

  “I didn’t get your picture back,” Steele said.

  “I don’t need the picture because I have you.” She gave him a sad smile and touched his face.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  “Home is when I’m with you,” she said.

  “Then let’s make it a better one.”

  He walked off through the sand. His feet dug into the surf.

  “Let’s move.” But his people were already all right behind him. Gwen so close she could have been his shadow. It made him feel something. Pride. A sliver of hope. The will to go on.

  All they had were moments, and he intended to live his to the fullest. It was these moments that were worth fighting for, and he intended to fight like the devil to keep them.

  Note from the Author

  Thank you for reading The Breaking. I truly hope that you enjoyed the journey so far. Without your support for End Time, this novel would never have come to be. If you have the time to leave a review, I would greatly appreciate the feedback.

  Reviews are the lifeblood of any novel. They not only help potential buyers decide where to spend their hard earned money and time, but they help me improve my craft, something I take very seriously. If you’ve written a review please contact me, so I can thank you personally.

  Our journey together has not yet come to an end…far from it. I am already hard at work on the third installment of the saga.

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  Acknowledgements

  Where do I begin?

  The writing process is a long and arduous journey filled with danger and turmoil. Like Steele, without my cast of allies, s
urvival would be impossible.

  First and foremost is Jen. She is an amazing partner and without her unfailing support I would flounder out at sea. I can’t wait to take the next step in our journey together this summer.

  A special thanks to Brady and Kevin. They light a creative fire under me, and truly do understand the meaning of the word pals.

  I can’t say enough about my cover artist, Christian, your ability to take my ideas and turn them into artwork is unmatched.

  A thanks to my editor, Monique, without your fine-toothed editing comb, this novel would only convey a fraction of its intended purpose.

  To all my family, friends, and fans, without your support these books are not possible. Thank you.

  Daniel Greene

  April 12, 2017

  About the Author

  Daniel Greene is the author of the growing apocalyptic thriller series The End Time Saga. He is an avid traveler and physical fitness enthusiast with a deep passion for history. He is inspired by the works of George R.R. Martin, Steven Pressfield, Bernard Cornwell, and George Romero. Although he is a Midwesterner for life, he now lives on the East Coast.

  Table of Contents

  STEELE

  JOSEPH

  GWEN

  STEELE

  GWEN

  MAUSER

  KINNICK

  GWEN

  STEELE

  JOSEPH

  KINNICK

  STEELE

  KINNICK

  STEELE

  GWEN

  JOSEPH

  STEELE

  GWEN

  STEELE

  GWEN

  STEELE

  MAUSER

  JOSEPH

  MAUSER

  GWEN

  STEELE

  KINNICK

  STEELE

  KINNICK

  STEELE

  JOSEPH

  KINNICK

  MAUSER

  KINNICK

  GWEN

  STEELE

  KINNICK

  STEELE

  JOSEPH

  STEELE

  MAUSER