It felt like he’d been hit by a sledgehammer.
No one had ever hit him before. Not his parents, not his relatives, and certainly not his teachers and professors.
Scream, he ordered himself. Scream so loudly that Aaron hears you in the next room.
But the windows were wide open. Any commotion up here would also be heard by the silent infected prowling in the dark outside.
A violent tussle soon broke out between them, but it was clear from the start who the winner was. It was like a puppy defending itself from a starved coyote.
He never stood a chance.
Still, Trey desperately held on. It was his father’s final gift to him, after all.
With a roar of frustration, Myrtle grabbed his neck and pushed him out of the window, simultaneously yanking the music box from his grip.
What? I’m … falling?
As he toppled from the third floor, the last thing Trey saw was Myrtle staring down at him, her irascible face growing smaller and smaller.
He would never forget this image.
It was burned into his memory forever.
Author’s Note
I hope you enjoyed “Fate,” book one of The Aftermath. If you have a few minutes, please consider leaving a review. Your reviews are important and will help future readers.
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