My second book, All That Remains, will be out in a month or so. Just a few last minute tweaks and some final publishing preparations left, and it’ll be out in both paperback and Kindle edition for you to enjoy. I thought it would be fun to give you folks a little taste of what’s to come. Enjoy! (Also, forgive the format. WordPress is silly.)
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Not knowing what else to do, he knocked. Three hard pounds. The sound rang into the darkness, vanishing in the night. He stood there stupidly, his hand pressed against the door, waiting for a response. Nothing. The inside remained as silent as the outside, even more so. In the cold twilight, bugs chirped. Birds sang. The world carried on as if it hadn’t really ended; turned as if lives weren’t in the balance and people didn’t matter. Maybe they didn’t.
He pounded again. Slower. Deliberate.
“Who’s there?” The voice from inside wavered as it spoke. He wasn’t thrilled about having a midnight visitor
Why would he be? What good news comes looking for kidnappers? His mind dipped low, away from Kyle the Sociology Professor. He was Kyle the Killer. Kyle the Survivor. A sniffer screamed off in the distance as if to agree with his grim resolve. He’d do what he had to. The jitters tapered off as he took a breath.
He made for the corner of the barn, ready for the door to open. Ready to save Sara and deliver a bloody death to anyone who tried to stop him. He pulled out his flashlight, flashing it once toward Tim.
The midnight ride of Paul Revere came to mind. One if by land and two if by sea.
“A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door.”
The insanity of such a thought brought a smile to his lips. Not a humorous smile. A dog’s grin. A killing leer.
Kyle positioned himself at the corner of the barn. If the plan didn’t work, he would have to bust in alone. Tim wouldn’t last long alone in such a miserable world, but at least he and Kaylee would have a chance. That’s how things went now. Families and friends torn apart. Nothing permanent. That had all gone out the window thirteen years ago.
“Hardly a man is now alive, who remembers that famous day and year.”
He tightened his grip on his pistol and waited, crouched not ten feet from the door.
Locks popped. This was it. Now or never. Tim knew what to do, and Kyle hoped he had the courage to do it. They would get one chance to give up Sara. If they refused or tried to go back inside, Tim would take one out, and Kyle would move in. If there were more than two or three, it would almost certainly be suicide. Only in the old movies did one lone gunslinger take down an army singlehandedly.
“And the meeting-house windows, black and bare, gaze at him with a spectral glare, as if they already stood aghast, at the bloody work they would look upon.”
The door opened, and a light spilled out into the world. These people had no caution. It was a wonder they’d survived this long.
“What do you see?” asked the big voice from inside.
A smaller voice, not more than a terrified child, replied. “N-nothing.” That could have been Tim.
“Then get out there and look.”
On the other side of the door was a small scuffle, someone being shoved.
This is it. Kyle readied himself, gun drawn.
Tim’s shot rang out from the darkness. Maybe he’d gotten nervous, or maybe he’d seen something Kyle hadn’t. The kid who’d poked his head out the door jerked back with the force of the round. Inside, the voices of at least three men started yelling.
“Fuck!”
“Close the door!”
“Get that fucker!”
Above it all, clear as day, came Sara’s voice. “Kyle! There’s three of them!”
