Dark Tide - Dead Sea Book 1 : (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) by D.F. Brook & Mike Kraus

Author:D.F. Brook & Mike Kraus [Brook, D.F.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2022-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Samir “Sam” Griffin. Cold Spring, Texas

When Sam screeched into the farmhouse yard, Jason was still breathing, Carrie was sobbing, and Carrie’s aunt and uncle were optimistic about Jason’s chances. They whisked the bleeding man away to their spare room and tended to his wounds. Aunt Nancy and her husband Gordon put themselves to work, charging in and out of the room to collect boiling water, gathering supplies, crooning at Carrie, then charging her with tearing old sheets into strips. A tool clanged in a metal tray behind the closed spare bedroom door where they worked.

Sam wanted nothing more than to slip out the back door, get on the road, and hitch his way to the CDC, but he was tied to the house. Waiting to hear about Jason was unbearable. He had to stay busy, so he scrubbed at the crimson stains on his blood-spattered gray polo. Leaning over the farmhouse kitchen sink, his fingers slipped in the sudsy dishwashing soap. The garnet blotch grew darker—froth and bubbles spread the gruesome particles in an ever-widening circle. He gave up. The bandages covering his palms were torn, and tiny threads held them together. Useless. He slipped them off, tossing them in the trash. Only a handful of ragged strips were left on his arm. His flesh was a mottled shade of burgundy—splotchy, bumpy, and tender.

Outside, a horse whinnied. Carrie sat trembling on the dark-blue sofa. She shut her eyes and mumbled to herself. Luna curled up close to her, not leaving her side. "They'll save him. I know they will."

"Yes." He ought to comfort her, but he wasn't wired that way. The right words always eluded him. The wobble in his legs lingered as he paced back and forth, waiting for news of Jason's condition.

An hour later, Nancy emerged from the cramped room, where scarlet-stained towels lay strewn across the rustic wooden floorboards. Gordon mopped his sweaty forehead. Carrie jumped up to meet them, but Nancy shook her head. "Honey. I'm sorry. He's gone."

"No!" Carrie's scream sliced through the air. "He promised he'd be there for the baby." Her shrieks became a haunting wail. "The baby..."

Sam dropped into a seat at the kitchen table and held his head in his hands. These weren’t his people, but he couldn’t up and leave. Carrie wailed, Nancy consoled, Luna whined, and Sam stayed in his chair with his head hung low until Gordon placed a cold bottle of Shiner Bock in front of him. "Thanks for helping my family."

Carrie and Nancy were gone from the room. When had they left? He took a swig. The beer tickled his raw throat and warmed his chest, but the alcohol clashed with the dread in his empty stomach. "I don't... I-I’m sorry." He couldn't face Gordon's stare. Swirling dark clouds loomed outside the bay window. Rain pelted the panes and hit the roof like a thousand pebbles dropping at once.

"Son, I’ll help get you where you need to go. You brought Jason here and helped my Carrie out of a dangerous spot.

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