Storm clouds, p.1
Storm Clouds, page 1
Contents
STORM CLOUDS
Prologue
PART ONE: TAKEN
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
PART TWO: A NICK OF TIME
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
PART THREE: PURSUIT
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
PART FOUR: CONVERGENCE
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
STORM CLOUDS
AMERICA FALLS
Book 11
Scott Medbury
Also by Scott Medbury
The America Falls Series:
Hell Week
On the Run
Cold Comfort
Rude Shock
Luke’s Trek
Civil War
Lone Wolf
Texas Fight
Messenger
The Drifter
The Rabid States Series:
Unleashed
Alpha Pack
Foxhole
Pack Hunt
Standalone novels:
INGA
Copyright © 2023 Scott Medbury
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All characters and events depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Some license has been taken with the locations and geography in this fictional work to better progress the story.
Prologue
The moon hung low in the ink-black sky, casting ghostly shadows over the overgrown landscape surrounding the city of Manchester. Three figures in black moved with sinister purpose through the trees and foliage that was slowly but inevitably reclaiming the city’s outer suburbs.
These men were no ordinary wanderers of the night, for their intentions were as dark as the shadows that concealed them. Their faces were masked by black scarves, and each carried a collection of guns and blades.
One of them, a burly figure with a jagged scar across his cheek, hissed a command as they reached the end of the scrub that slowly encroached upon the outskirts of the city.
“We're close now. Keep your wits about you.”
They’d already lost one member of their team a few days before to a stupid accident; they couldn’t afford to lose another without having to abort the mission.
His two companions nodded as he squatted in the shadows and looked into the overgrown backyard of a two-story home—one of many in a long line of abandoned houses.
“We’ll camp in that one and begin the hunt tomorrow.”
Their eyes gleamed with anticipation.
“You sure we shouldn’t scope them out tonight, Mason?”
“No point,” he said, without looking back. “The rat says they’re well protected and stay locked down in the tower after dark. The best time will be tomorrow, when they all start heading out to forage and work in the fields.”
They easily broke their way through the rotted wooden fence and approached the abandoned house. Most of its windows were shattered, and the back wall was overgrown with a vine that had engulfed the whole backyard. It was the perfect hideout, far enough from the prying eyes of the inhabitants of the Brady Sullivan Tower, yet close enough to stalk the unwary they would abduct to sell to their Chinese buyers.
Mason, an impressionable fifteen-year-old when America fell eleven years before, was now a hardened survivor of the After Days. He broke the back door in with a heavy kick of his boot and they entered.
Ten minutes later, in the flickering glow of a small LED pocket lantern, they huddled together in a circle, their voices hushed yet charged with an eerie energy as they ate.
“We need to be quick, no room for mistakes,” Mason growled, and tore a bite off his jerky. “Children or teenagers are the preference but if they’re hard to find adults will do. The Chinese pay top dollar for the young ones, but because of that detour we had to take when the bridge collapsed, we only have one day to hunt, so we’ll take what we can get. If we don’t get to the rendezvous by next Friday sundown, we’ll miss out and they won’t be back for three months. That only gives us six full days to get back.”
Chris, who at fifteen was the youngest and newest member of the crew, nodded.
“You sure Steve was dead? I thought I heard moaning—”
“What do you think?” Mason snapped. “Even if he survived the fall into the gulley, there’s no way we could have got him out, so he was as good as dead. If the idiot had reacted a bit quicker, he wouldn’t have fallen at all. Now he’s screwed up our chances of bringing back any more than six slaves.”
Chris dropped his eyes and nodded.
The other member of the crew, Caleb, a twenty-two-year-old with a solid build and a terrible haircut, sneered at Chris before turning his attention back to Mason and grinning, his missing front tooth marring what would have been a remarkably bright smile for someone who had never used a toothbrush.
“So, I heard they do experiments on them, like the Nazis used to.”
“What’s a Nazi?” asked Chris.
“Boy, you’re a dumb one ain’t ya?” spat the toothless Caleb. He’d spent a good part of the trip bullying the younger man and didn’t seem inclined to stop yet. “Those Nazis nearly took over the world a hundred years ago till we beat their asses.”
“How do you think he’s ‘sposed to know that?” Mason asked Caleb. “Kid was barely out of diapers when the shit hit the fan. Nazis were from a place called Germany and they used to put Jews in camps and gas ‘em. It wasn’t a hundred years ago, either.”
“And experiment on ‘em!”
Chris shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to ask what a Jew was but didn’t want Caleb to rag on him again.
“Do you think that’s what the Chinese do too, Mason?”
The leader chewed his jerky thoughtfully for a moment.
“Not what I heard. The buyer says they use ‘em as slave labor. But who knows—or cares. As long as the bastards stay their side of the mountains, I don’t care what they do.”
“Why do you reckon they don’t come back east?” asked Chris.
“They’re scared of the virus we set on ‘em,” said Caleb.
Mason shrugged.
“Maybe. More likely they bit off more than they could chew and are happy with the middle and the western states.” He washed down the last of his jerky with a gulp of water. “Anyway, enough talk. Let’s sleep, I want you two on your game tomorrow.”
“How many are we aiming for?” asked Caleb.
“We should be able to handle eight if we scare ‘em bad enough. We’ll kill one if the message ain’t getting through…”
PART ONE: TAKEN
Chapter 1
“Mom, can me, Cade and a few of the kids go to Livingston Park for a swim?” Samuel asked his mother, Diana, as she washed dishes in the sink. “Vincent’s mom already said okay.”
Diana wasn’t surprised. Vincent’s mother Gloria was at her wits end with the four children she had, and getting the energetic teenager off her hands for the day would no doubt be a godsend.
It was the height of summer, and the kids were on a break from school. She could already feel the warmth seeping through the tinted ceiling-height windows of their apartment. When she and Ben had applied for a bigger room to accommodate their growing family the previous winter, picking a room on the eastern side of the building had seemed like a good idea. Not so much now.
“Which kids apart from Vincent?”
“Max and Peace.”
“Well, you can’t ask those two and not Erin.”
“Oh, of course, yeah. And what about Blake?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. He’s not so strong a swimmer yet.”
“We’ll look after him, Mom, and if we don’t, mother hen Peace will!”
She laughed.
“Well, it’s alright with me, but you need to check with the other parents. Go see Becky and Indigo. Isaac is out with Ben inspecting the farms today.”
“Yes! Thanks Mom! We’re on, Cade!” The gangly seventeen-year-old called out to his stepbrother as he began running for the bedrooms.
“Sam?”
He skidded to a halt, his old sneakers squeaking on the timber floor.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll pack you some lunch and you guys can have a picnic. Come and collect it in twenty minutes. And you need to promise me you’ll watch Blake at all times, and don’t let him go in deep.”
Sam put an arm around his mother’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss her on the top of her head, something he was able to do now with ease.
“Roger that!”
Diana smiled and dried her hands on the worn dish towel. Samuel was barely recognizable as the scared kid who had watched his Uncle Tommy killed by the Brotherhood back in Willatan Green. He’d grown into a tall, confident young man and had taken to Cade, the refugee from the Marauder attack, the instant she a nd Ben had adopted him. Over the years, the two boys had become inseparable friends. Both dark-haired and gangly, they even looked like brothers.
Blake, on the other hand, was blond and olive-skinned like his dad. Diana’s youngest son idolized his older brothers, and he would have made her life unbearable the whole day if she’d said he couldn’t go. Besides, a bit of sun would do her little bookworm some good.
“Blake! Time to put the Famous Five down and go have a real-life adventure!” she called, as she reached for the loaf of bread, she’d baked that morning.
*
“So hot today!” said Blake, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
“Yeah,” agreed Cade. “Can’t wait to jump in the water!”
The sun hung high in the pale blue sky, casting its warm rays over the now bustling area around the Brady Sullivan Tower, where the group had made their home seven years before. Laughter and chatter filled the air as children played in the streets, relishing the freedom of summer vacation.
Founding a school had been one of the first things the council had implemented, so naturally they used a schedule as close to the one they were all used to from their high school days, including a ten-week summer break.
“It’s only a half-hour walk,” said Samuel, patting his younger brother on the head when he sighed in response. “It’ll be worth it when we get there.”
He, along with Cade and Vincent, led the other kids, kicking an old soccer ball as they made their way through the town towards Livingston Park. Their excitement was palpable, a contagious energy that spread through their group like wildfire. They chattered and laughed, their youthful exuberance a soundtrack to the perfect summer’s day.
Their ultimate destination was Dorr’s Pond. Back before the Fall it was not really a part of the park, but eleven years of unrestrained growth had seen the park and the woods surrounding the pond merge into close to 200 acres of thick forest and scrub.
As they walked away from the Tower, the people and kids playing and working eventually thinned out. After they turned onto Webster Street, the abandoned stores, car lots, gas stations and assorted business from the Before Times reminded them that the city was still not much more than a shell of its former self. Manchester’s new population was still confined to little more than two city blocks eleven years after the Fall.
“It’s so creepy here,” said Erin softly.
“Yeah,” said Peace. Ava’s daughter, conceived in the facility so long ago, had bloomed into a confident and responsible teenager, very much in the mold of her Uncle Paul. “Here, you can hold my hand.”
The younger girl accepted the offer without hesitation.
Blake was straggling behind everyone else, looking around with moon eyes. He had just finished a post-apocalyptic novel by an English writer called John Christopher, which his father had recommended, and the abandoned buildings around them were just as he’d visualized the landscape in the story to be.
“This is like Empty World, the book I just finished.”
“Well, we’re living the documentary version,” said Samuel, who preferred gaming and old movies to books.
As they approached an intersection, Vincent picked up a stone and threw it at the street sign. He missed it completely and to cover, he snorted and said, “Walnut Street! Did we miss Peanut Avenue?”
This drew a spattering of laughs from the other kids, and none of them noticed Blake stop in the middle of the intersection as they walked on.
“I guess it’ll be right before Chestnut Street,” Cade joined in.
“Um, guys?”
“Yeah, and just after Acorn Avenue,” said Samuel.
“Guys!”
They turned as one and looked back at Blake, who was standing still, looking along Walnut Street and its row of abandoned two-story homes.
“What’s up?” said Sam.
Blake raised his arm and pointed to the first two-story house about a hundred yards from the intersection. It was red with a peaked roof, and he was pointing at the attic window.
“There’s someone in that window.”
Sam, along with Isaac and Indigo’s son Max, stepped up to him, shielding their eyes from the sun.
“No there’s not.”
“I can’t see anyone either,” Max said.
“There was! I swear. He had something over his face.”
The certainty in his voice convinced Sam to walk a few paces down the street until his view of the window was about to be obscured by a big Maple in the vacant lot next to the house.
“You are seeing things, Shorty,” said Vincent. “Come on Sam.”
“I am not!”
Sam didn’t let himself be rushed by Vincent, but even on closer inspection all he saw was an empty window, and no sign of movement there or anywhere else. A high-pitched scream behind him made him jump and with a thumping heart, he spun around to find Erin flailing her arms at a pretty black and purple butterfly.
Vincent brayed like a donkey, pointing at Samuel and Blake. They all joined in the laughter after the shock had worn off. All except Blake, who was as still as a statue as he continued to stare at the window. His big brother put his arm around his shoulder.
“Sorry Blake, I don’t see anything. Must have just been a shadow.”
He saw his younger brother’s certainty dwindle into doubt, before he finally nodded and turned away.
“Come on, it’s hot, let’s go swim,” said Samuel.
“K.”
“Told ya you were seeing things,” teased Vincent.
Max opened his mouth to tell Vincent to leave it alone when Blake beat him to it and flipped the older kid the bird. Vincent brayed again.
“I’m just teasing, Shorty.”
Blake looked back one more time as they continued on, but all he saw was an empty window.
It wasn’t until the group was about to veer onto Hookset Road and the mile-long stretch to the park that a dark figure reappeared at the window, the lenses of the field binoculars it held glinting with the reflected light of the bright summer day.
*
Luke Merritt offered his hand to Joshua Ragland after they’d exchanged names. For Ragland, the encounter had taken an unexpected turn. Fearing the worst after he had been skillfully disarmed, he now found himself face-to-face with the man who had bested him, but instead of conflict, the younger man with the open, honest face was holding out a hand in friendship.
Ragland's instincts told him to be cautious, but there was something in Luke's steady gaze that spoke of good intent. He took the strong, callused hand.
“Pleased to meet you.”
Luke tucked the handgun into the waistband of his jeans.
“I don't mean you any harm, Joshua. We were just passing through when I noticed the smoke from your fire. Had to make sure we weren't stumbling into trouble.”
Ragland took a measured step back, maintaining a cautious distance.
“Fair enough. Caution is understandable. I don't take kindly to being snuck up on, but I reckon I can see you meant no harm. What brings you and your group through these parts?”
Luke motioned towards the group of seven people huddled in the moonlight a short distance away.
“We're just travelers. Like you, I’m guessing.”
Ragland's eyes scanned the group. None of them appeared to be threatening. If anything, they looked weary and ragged.
“Ain't often you see a group like yours traveling at night. Don’t you have a home?”
Luke shrugged, his eyes never leaving Ragland's. “We prefer the cover of darkness. There are dangerous folk out there.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Luke regarded him for a moment.
“We were going to make camp on another mile. You picked a good spot; would you be open to us joining you? Just for tonight.”
Ragland was about to say no, when Luke bent down and picked up his bow and knife, handing them back to him.
“Thanks. Well, I don’t normally-”
“I have an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels. I sure would like to enjoy it with someone who would appreciate it, and maybe swap a few stories.”
There was a slight desperation in the young man’s voice. It was clear he was craving the kind of company that the defeated travelers with him couldn’t provide. There was something more to the strange group than met the eye, and Luke was the one who stood out from the others. Somehow, they didn’t belong together, and Ragland was curious now.
