Incinerate: Echoes of the End Book 8: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller) by Justin Bell & Mike Kraus

Author:Justin Bell & Mike Kraus [Bell, Justin & Kraus, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2024-05-03T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

At least some part of Everett had assumed the sense of familiarity would calm him, but if anything, the opposite occurred. Since putting some distance between them and the soldiers in the small neighboring town, he’d filled the gas tank and run the engine, making up for some lost time. But as the swamp deepened and the familiar landscape appeared, Everett once again cut the engines to silence.

“Are we close?”

Everett nodded a solemn, single motion nod. “Noise carries a long way this deep in the Glades. Can’t let them hear us coming.” He’d kept the long stick he’d recovered from the shore, and used it to move them forward, shoving it down into the ground. Navigating the Everglades like the canals in Venice half a world away.

“Wonder if they’re still there. If anyone is floating in them right now.” He spoke the words aloud, his thoughts traversing to his lips.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Just thinking out loud. My wife always wanted to go to Europe. I’d promised her once I’d take her to Italy. To ride the canals in Venice.” He gestured around them. “This is the closest we ever got.”

“Some things aren’t meant to be.”

“I should have been a better husband. A better father.”

“What happened to Lilly⁠—”

“I’m not just talking about that.” The boat glided upon the dark surface, leaving small ripples in its narrow wake. “Even before that. There were times when I got really good at pretending all of the PTSD was behind me. Where I could almost look like I was acting normal. But the closer my wife got, the more she could tell I was faking it.”

“That sort of thing isn’t exactly a switch you can turn on or off.”

“She asked me to get help. To talk to someone else. Did I ever tell you she started out as my therapist?”

“Yeah.”

“Obviously once it became clear we were getting feelings for each other, she had to stop. I told her I didn’t need a therapist, I’d married one and that was good enough.” He faced forward, easing himself along the edge of the boat. “But that was bull. That was me being a thick-headed stubborn ex-soldier. Someone who thought he could just muscle his way through what happened in the war.”

“Nobody can muscle through stuff like that, Everett, no matter how strong they are.”

“Where were you twenty years ago, Sigmund?” Everett chuckled dryly.

“Would you have listened to me?”

“Probably not.” Everett studied the shoreline through narrowed eyes, his thick, gray brows bunching like aged caterpillars. “Check that bag, would you? Grab whatever magazines we’ve got in there. We’ll want to carry them on us.”

Brett nodded and moved toward the bag Everett had gestured to. He drew the zipper back and opened the flap. “What’s this?” Lifting a strange contraption, he held it up for Everett to see.

“Portable radio. Almost forgot about that. Jacob gave it to me.” His voice faded and he looked away. “I guess so we could keep in touch. Even though⁠—”

“Even though Scout left?”

“Right.

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