Frozen Collapse: Book 8 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (The Long Fall - Book 8)

by Logan Keys

  FROZEN

  COLLAPSE

  The Long Fall Series

  Book 8

  By

  Logan Keys & Mike Kraus

  © 2018 Muonic Press, Inc.

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  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 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Authors’ Notes September 8, 2018

  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 9:

  Age of Winter

  Special Thanks

  Many thanks to the awesome beta reading team, including Claudia, Glenda, James, Jonathan, Karen, Lynnette, Marlys, Robin, Sarah, Scarlett & Shari. You all rock. :)

  Prologue

  After the Fall

  Things change, Brittany thought. They change and change and change, and even so…it all somehow stayed exactly the same. Families that survived still did their chores and asked at the end of the day how it went. People ate. They read books. They did things a bit differently without the good weather and electricity, but they still went about their day.

  The only real difference was, any moment could be your last and they were all more aware of that fact than ever. So maybe people didn’t waste as many of their precious hours.

  These were desperate times, so where were her desperate measures? Why did she feel like she’d given death “the okay?” A big thumbs up to sweep her away already.

  A collapsing world, like a soccer ball losing its air, deflated, capable of spinning out of control at any moment. And the people were sucked into the divot created, weren’t they? Their shouts and cries unheard by the ears of the great, cold universe.

  Why shouldn’t Earth be frozen? Why shouldn’t it join the forbidden freeze and rest of…well…everything?

  If the universe was devoid of life—if it was a black hole and a never-ending, unforgiving void, then why on Earth, should Earth, be something greater?

  Ah. Brittany chuckled to herself. Now that line of thinking lead towards God. A creator. And doesn’t everything lately? Even Chuck had asked her if she had faith, and she’d avoided the question. She’d always believed in something. Someone. She really had.

  And maybe she would have if, by some miracle, she’d seen Colton and the children just once more. Even more than her own mother who she had no idea if she’d survived with her new family, Brittany wanted to see Colton and Benton and Lily instead.

  She wouldn’t call herself a church person, but she’d said a prayer or two in her day. But that stopped. She had, maybe, a kind of faith until she found out that her fate would mean losing every single person that she cared about. Then it was hard to believe in divinity, wasn’t it? That some great eye out there in the distance could watch you like an ant farm that was slowly running out of resources and looked on without doing anything as everything turned cold, and dark, and eventually…there were no more ants alive.

  But maybe that wasn’t fair. This was, after all, someone’s fault down here, wasn’t it?

  She sought out Michelle and sat down beside her at the fire.

  “What did you mean before? About George not being wrong.”

  Michelle gave a tight smile. “I meant that he wasn’t. Not completely.”

  Brittany was surprised but asked, “So you know who did…all of this?”

  “I not only know who did it, but I killed the person responsible. In a way. I could have maybe saved her. Her name was Reese.”

  Brittany frowned. It couldn’t be. She sat back, the blood running from her face. “Reese? You don’t mean Reese Leeward?”

  Bob was standing there and he’d overheard. He put a hand on Brittany’s shoulder when he noticed her panic and shock. “Maybe you ought to tell us your story, and we will tell you ours.”

  Chapter 1

  Nogales, Arizona

  “I told you, halt!”

  The shadow in the darkness stopped and visibly turned to face the place where Jean and Luckman hid. Luckman’s hands were steady as he aimed at the one closest to him on horseback. The silhouette was large, and he had a cowboy hat that completed the desert picture in the dark landscape dotted by outlines of cacti.

  “You’re outnumbered, partner,” the man said. His accent was thick and a mixture of possibly Spanish and deep south.

  Luckman scoffed. “You’re the one surrounded. Partner.”

  The man shifted in his saddle and leaned forward. Moonlight found its way underneath the brim of the hat to shine on a face that was rugged and definitely caucasian. Black eyes that were too closely set searched the darkness. Luckman and Jean were too far in the shadows to be seen fully but he kept trying.

  Luckman held his gun up. “Drop your weapon,” he said, with more authority than he felt.

  “Not a chance.” The man spat to the side.

  “What do you want with us?” Jean demanded. Her voice was steady, only bubbling in pitch out of frustration. “We have nothing here. Our supplies are low. Go back to town.”

  Luckman was proud of her. She was so very very brave, he thought.

  The man tipped his hat at a woman’s voice. “This is the largest ranch close to the city and I like my space.”

  “Turn around. Go back the way you came,” Luckman said. “I’m sure the shelter in the…”

  The man laughed long and hard. Then he whistled, and more riders came forward, all of them fanning out, rifles up, and Luckman had only a second to act.

  He didn’t think, he just reacted. He’d lived on the ice for years and it was split second decisions that saved your life in the place he’d called home for so long. Ice moved, it shifted unapologetically, almost seeming to be a living thing at times. Avalanches of snow, storms of hail, or worse, would bury you if you didn’t have the ability to act when afraid.

  Luckman acted now. He fired the gun and watched in surprise as the man clutched his shoulder before toppling off his horse. But the rest of the men were also unafraid to act. They all began to shoot into the darkness, wildly trying to hit Luckman and Jean. There were enough of them that the odds weren’t looking too good as he and Jean hid behind a thin cluster of cacti that was being pecked off bit by bit from gunfire.

  Jean fired back twice, but Luckman had her by the hand and was dragging her backwards, past the mesquite. Trees snagged at their clothing, ripping his hood off. The cold immediately stung Luckman’s nose and ears.

  “What do we do?” Jean asked. She was breathing fast when they stopped behind a big stump.

  Every time Luckman moved, he’d get
stabbed by something pointy. He hated the desert already, and he’d been there for only a short while. “We need to retreat back to the house.”

  “No. We’re not cowards, Lucky.”

  Luckman smiled. “I’m not saying we are. But we need more help. There are too many of them. They will shoot us out of sheer luck at this stage.”

  Jean had a smile in her voice. “You hit their leader. Did you see it?”

  “Yeah. I did.” Luckman grinned.

  “Woowee! I’ve never seen something so fine,” Jean said, and she grabbed his hand. “My hero,” she said with half sarcasm and a twang she adopted.

  Luckman picked up the joke of her country accent. “Why thank you, little lady,” he said pretending to tip his imaginary hat, but a bullet whizzed by, making them duck down into the sand.

  “The house,” Luckman said, and they stayed low, but got to their feet. Though they were picking up needles along the way, they made it to the side of the house.

  The shooting stopped, and horses could be heard making their way up the trail in pursuit.

  “Hey,” someone whispered through the shadows, and Luckman pulled his gun up. “It’s me. Don’t shoot! It’s Cal.”

  “Where is everyone?” Jean asked.

  “All over the place. Josephine was with me, but she left inside to check on German. I haven’t seen her since.”

  “Wait. You don’t think…” Luckman trailed off.

  If Cal nodded, they couldn’t see it. “They might have come in through the back, too. Smart. But I thought Joseph had some of the officers posted out back. Where are they, do you think?” Cal sounded like he didn’t want to know if they were alone in this now, and neither did Luckman.

  Jean whispered, “We can’t just go in the front. Josephine might be in there and blow our heads off.”

  “Around the back then.” Luckman led the way carefully. Things had turned quiet now that they were away from the main trail up to the house.

  Jean and Cal didn’t make a noise other than breathing. Luckman knew that they were afraid. Hell, he was terrified! But they had to go find the rest of the group before the riders got to the house. For some reason the posse had stopped coming or were held up. They might have been checking on their leader after Luckman shot him. That made Luckman inwardly chuckle.

  His humor was quickly subdued as the three of them made their way around the back. It was dead still. A few horses in the back barns nickered, daring to break the silence, but mostly it was a quietness that crawled along Luckman’s spine, making him shiver.

  “You two stay here,” he said. “I’m gonna check the door.”

  Luckman found an empty back patio without the men who were supposed to be posted there. The screens to the Arizona room were ripped, and he wondered if they’d been like that before or if that meant some of the gang of riders had made their way inside already.

  He kept his gun up, but he’d be lying if he said his hand was still. Luckman shook ever so slightly. Could have been the cold. Could have been the fear of having to face down someone far more adept at using a pistol.

  He stepped through one of the ripped screens versus pulling open what might have been a creaky door. Luckman didn’t want to warn anyone that he was coming, even if it was the good guys in case they fired first and asked questions later. The house was dark, the entrance a void, sucking him in toward what could be his end. As if in a dream, he moved through the blackness, feeling inexplicably light and numb. That strange sense of tumbling toward one’s doom but having no choice but to stupidly venture on once again struck him.

  When things were normal, before the killing cold, a person could maybe go to their safe place and weather any storm that had arisen. They could be evacuated from the dangerous things in life. Their worst issue, if not outward, was the loss of one loved one. Debt was a huge problem, once upon a time, but now, money was useless, wasn’t it?

  He didn’t know what group this was, but strangely, Luckman felt like they’d come to kill the entire lot of them in residence just to have a place to stay.

  Might was right. You took what you needed. Survival of the fittest. The thought made Luckman crushingly sad. He was far too self-aware to fall for the idea that they’d naturally select the best and brightest now. Perhaps what would win would be the cunning and most evil.

  In the dawning of darkness, many things were revealed, this cruel irony being one of them: Humans murdered one another at the very beginning of time. They would shed blood at the end of, it too.

  The only question was: Would Luckman do it first?

  And if he had, would he regret it? Would he feel as if he’d joined into giving up on humanity? Luckman shook off that thought.

  He was determined to do so, if needed. Even if it went against everything he stood for, desperate measures were going to be the only way to save German, his friend, and his other new friends. And Jean. She was important to him, too, and how surprising was that?

  Luckman had stepped into the first room which was the kitchen and was feeling his way along the walls, a few times knocking over small items and having to grab them quickly to stop their sound. There was still no moonlight so he had to try to remember the layout from before and touch his way through it. Still in the black dreamworld, no sound to guide him, no hum of electricity for normalcy, and no light to give him even the shadows to avoid. He was inside of one giant shadow and sensed that his enemy was near.

  “Lucky?” Jean whispered from outside. “Are you okay?”

  “Shhh,” he hissed, but she moved through the screen to join him and he’d be lying if he said he minded.

  The small warmth found its way easily to his side, and Luckman began to walk towards the front room once more with Jean close behind. Her voice was barely audible. “I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.”

  They linked arms.

  It was true. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or shut anymore.

  Once, in college, Luckman had dated a girl who loved to draw. He said it was interesting to him how she used so few colors and she’d replied: “I only need the one color to contrast with the light.”

  He’d thought about it and watched her further. It was true. She shaped everything around the parts of the paper left blank between the lines that were light. She’d laughed at his interest. For once, he paid attention beyond his studies. He was usually a bad boyfriend….well…husband as well. “I’m merely shaping the light,” she’d said, and it had appealed to his scientific mind for some time.

  Still did.

  Shaping the light.

  But here, in the night of the apocalypse, Luckman needed something to shape the darkness. Before they completely left the kitchen area, he felt along the counter and found tiny pieces of wood.

  Striking the match along the side, the area was immediately illuminated, the shadows fighting back as the tiny light flickered. They were alone, and he sighed out his tension.

  Luckman went and told Cal to join them. Jean found a candle and lit it, and then Luckman lead the way upstairs where German was. He wanted to check on his friend. “Shouldn’t someone stay to guard the door?” Cal asked as he motioned towards the front of the house.

  “Good idea,” Jean said, and they both left Cal behind.

  Carefully, Luckman climbed the steps with Jean behind him, her hand on his back.

  At the top of the steps it was clear something wasn’t right. Luckman could hear Josephine speaking rapidly, and she sounded out of breath.

  “It’s okay, Papa. You’re going to be okay.”

  Luckman rushed into the room. His feet slipped in blood on the wood floor and he had to use the wall to stay standing. “What happened?” Luckman asked.

  Josephine glanced at Luckman with a wild glare. Blood was smudged along her slender cheekbone. She looked feral and her eyes sparkled with rage. “They shot him. The bastards. They shot my dad. Help me with him.”

  Luckman and Jean assisted in lifting Joseph up onto the couch.
Luckman glanced back and saw German was pale but okay and resting fitfully on his bed. “He’s needing his pain meds, and I haven’t had a moment to do them yet,” Josephine said about German. “He’s going to wake up soon, I’m sure.”

  “Aghhhh,” Joseph groaned, his eyes rolling around in his head.

  Luckman stared down at Joseph with worry. He was also pale and not okay. Blood was pouring from a wound in his chest, and the man was whispering prayers quietly to himself between moans.

  “Where are your men, Daddy?” Josephine asked gently while putting pressure on the wound. “Where’s Cal?” she asked Luckman.

  “He’s downstairs. I’ll get him. Jean, will you…”

  Jean switched places with him helping to put pressure on the wound as Luckman rushed down the stairs.

  “What is it?” Cal asked, his stance in front of the door nearly comical because it seemed Cal had watched enough police shows to hold the gun up right, but also, it was a cinematic overdone posture that he mimicked so obviously that was strange looking.

  Luckman was just about to reply that Josephine needed him when the door pounded. The window left of the door broke and a rifle poked inside.

  Then the right window broke as well.

  Luckman grabbed a frozen Cal and yanked him back to the kitchen and behind the wall. They took up post on either side, guns ready.

  One of the rifles went off and the bullet struck the vase on the kitchen table shattering it. All of this was seen only by candlelight making it all the more dramatic. Luckman and Cal’s shadows were long across the floor and walls.

  Something heavy boomed against the door, and Luckman once again wondered whether Terry and them were okay. And Joseph’s men.

  “Where is everyone?” Cal hissed as if reading his mind.

  Luckman shook his head. “Looks like we’re on our own. You ready for this?”