We Are Not Blood: A Found Family Post Apocalyptic (Annover Park Book 1) by Nicole Scarano

Author:Nicole Scarano [Scarano, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

The fuel for their garbage pail fire ran out long before the rain ended, leaving the damp garage dark and uncomfortably cold. When the rain showed no signs of slowing, they organized their food, eating the meals that required heat first, but as the storm raged on, Anson worried the canned supplies and baby formula would run dry before the skies cleared.

“I thought you said to stop staring out the window,” Quinn’s voice interrupted the silence as she joined him before the glass, her bloodstained coat wrapped around her shoulders.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked. If his wristwatch could be trusted, it was the early hours of the morning.

“I’m too cold,” she said.

“What happened to the blanket I gave you?”

“Ava has it,” she said. “I’m afraid of her getting sick again, so I tried to sleep with just this coat. It’s too damp in here, though. The cold’s so deep that it’s in my bones.”

Anson glanced at her profile, her outline barely visible in the darkness. She had no idea what cold truly felt like. This garage was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t deadly. Not yet, at least, which was why they needed to aim south. He understood the misery of sleeping in freezing temperatures, and he hoped to never survive that again. He didn’t particularly want Quinn or Ava to experience it, either. No, she didn’t understand what true cold was.

“Do you like the rain?” she asked before he could open his mouth to speak. “Because I think I hate it now.”

“Rain is good,” he answered.

“Not like this, though.”

“No, not like this, but in a world where you can’t just turn on a hose or buy a plastic gallon from the store, rain is good. It means you have water to drink, to feed your crops, to wash your clothes.”

“If we can drink this rainwater.”

“It’s safe.” Anson tapped his foot on the floor, his boot splashing the puddles leaking through the seal. “We’ve been walking on it, and nothing has happened. It’s just rain.”

“I wonder if the men watching Noah said the same thing.”

“Noah?”

“Noah and the Ark,” she explained. “He built a massive boat in the dirt to the soundtrack of confused onlookers, and when the waters came, I’m sure they said it was just rain until the flood drowned them.”

“Quinn.” He waited until she met his gaze. “It’s just rain.”

“You’re so calm. How are you so calm? Is it because you’re a sheriff? Did you see a lot of terrifying things?”

“No,” he answered too fast. He should’ve lied because he’d seen a lifetime of terror, just not on the job. “I guess,” he added. “Panic kills people. It does nothing but make you sloppy. We have no room for panic. We’ll either survive, or we’ll be dead. Panic can’t help us.”

“I wish you’d been there to tell me that during finals week,” she laughed, the sound void of humor. “You’re really intense, you know that.”

“You should get some sleep.”

“See… intense.” This time, humor curled through her words, and it confused him that his bitterness was a source of amusement for her.

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