(Book 2)What Remains by Nathan Barnes Read Free Book Online Page A

house confirmed that the trespasser I
saw wasn’t the only one on the property that night.
    Adrenaline added a dangerous potency to my pain
killer-filled bloodstream. Anger had surfaced above my worry. If I
knew I could get out of the attic without waking anyone I probably
would. Right then I was so infuriated by this invasion that I
wanted to grab my Kukri and quench its thirst for blood. I sat down
next to Sarah and our sleeping bag nest. She startled me by placing
a gentle hand on my shoulder.
    “Calm down,” she whispered softly. “At the
moment we are safe and you are here. We can worry about the rest
later.”
    I didn’t say anything back because once again,
she was right. My response came in the form of my stiff return to a
horizontal position under the warmth of our blankets. She kissed me
gently and was asleep in minutes. I lay there stewing in my
thoughts.
    We were safe for the time being. As long as the
dead stayed on the other side of the fence we would have time to
plan. The reaction from the infected that I witnessed to a distant
sound reinforced the need for us to remain hidden. The following
day I planned on going out in the yard to check the perimeter. I
was sure it would feel good to do something beyond remaining still
in the name of healing.
    My storm of thoughts eased to a drizzle. Before
sleep returned to open the door for my nightmares, I pondered the
blast outside. Something like that must have come from someone that
still had a beating heart. For their sake, I prayed that the single
trigger pull that I heard brought that person peace instead of more
pain.

Chapter 5 – Relative Safety

Day Four - November 26th
0935 hours:

    Life before the end offered so much comfort in
its routines. I never realized how much I took the simple daily
tasks for granted until Thanksgiving morning. This thought occurred
to me as I stood atop my mangled back deck-turned-platform. It was
also the first time I’d been outside since getting pulled inside
the house unconscious and wounded. The aching in my ribs was numbed
down by a potent blend of painkillers and adrenaline. Being
outdoors was unnerving. Although, I’d never admit feeling that way
to the little one that watched me through the crack in the kitchen
window boards.
    Calise stood on the chair that she normally
would have been sitting at waiting for her morning sugar rush.
Either Sarah or I should’ve been pouring milk into two bowls of
Frosted Flakes under the intense scrutiny of hungry children.
Instead, Calise watched me as I nervously observed her brother and
mother. Maddox was in the grass keeping a close eye on his mommy’s
every move. He gripped a camping machete tightly in his
eight-year-old hand.
    My son is out there with a machete. What has
this world become? I thought to myself while trying to control
increasingly panicked breaths.
    Signs of anxiety were far less apparent in the
rest of my family. This may have been my first time observing the
routine but they had spent nearly every morning since the dead rose
turning this into a necessary morning ritual. The morning hours of
each day evolved to include an expedition of Sarah tiptoeing around
the fence line. She did this holding her own blade, a heavy piece
lethality I bought her years ago as a silly gift. Who would have
thought that the sword I painted partially pink would actually be
used to fight the undead? I longed for the days where such a
thought was nothing more than a foolish outlet for generalized
angst.
    First they embarked on a pulse pounding, slow
inspection of the fence lengths that connected to the house. Once
this was completed they patrolled a wooded portion of our yard that
the kids have always referred to as ‘the jungle’. In reality, this
section is far from a jungle; however, to a child it must look like
walking from a golf course green into the bowels of Vietnam. Before
Calise was born Maddox began getting adventurous during outside
playtime and the wooded area quickly