After Series Box Set by Scott Nicholson

Author:Scott Nicholson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Haunted Computer Books
Published: 2015-10-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Stephen screamed again and Rachel tore free of DeVontay’s grip. She stumbled through the aurora-limned cockpit, until she found him. He clung to her with his thin, frail arms.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay,”

“Huh-had a bad dream,” he blubbered. “They were t-talking to me...”

“Who?” she asked, her stomach tightening.

“I don’t know. They…they were in the woods.”

She stroked his hair, careful to keep the pistol out of his reach. If the Zapheads closed in, she’d have to decide whether to use the last two bullets on the boy and then herself. Except she couldn’t remember how many bullets the magazine held.

Why isn’t DeVontay shooting?

In the hush of the night, the cockpit seemed small and fragile against the vastness of the sky. They’d grown overconfident, sleeping more or less out in the open after so many nights spent in abandoned houses along the way. But Rachel had been sure the Zapheads were thinning out, perhaps even dropping dead from some lingering, invisible effects of the sun’s radiation.

Now here they were in a multitude, all around them. Rachel had suffered the ultimate arrogance—the belief that this After was meant for humans, and that it was up to humans to put the pieces back together.

Maybe, like the dinosaurs, they were merely short-term tenants, squatting on land the rightful owners had yet to claim. Placeholders in history.

“Where’s DeVontay?” Stephen asked, a little calmer now, his sobs giving way to occasional shudders.

Good question. He didn’t go OUT there, did he?

Even with the high aurora and faint moonlight, she couldn’t tell if DeVontay was still at his outpost at the edge of the cockpit. Their campsite was steeped in shadows, giving Rachel the sense that the metallic shell was in truth a mausoleum that still contained the echo of those who had died here.

This whole After was nothing but an echo, a hollow mockery of life. The ultimate indictment of an allegedly merciful God.

“Rachel?” DeVontay called from the darkness just outside the cockpit.

“Get in here,” she said.

“No. We need to figure out what they want. I’m going in the woods.”

“Damn you, don’t even think about it.” Rachel said it more loudly than she’d meant to, and she wondered if the Zapheads were listening. Did they have any comprehension of language, or was it just noise to them, an instinctive signal to close in and kill?

Stephen stiffened in fear beside her. “What’s happening?”

Rachel didn’t have time to conjure a suitable lie. “Something’s out there, but we’re safe in here.”

“Right, Little Man,” DeVontay said with false cheer. “Just like in your comic books. Back in a few.”

Rachel patted Stephen. “Wait here.” Then she scrambled across the cockpit into the moist air of night. Under the surreal swirls of the tainted atmosphere, DeVontay crossed the clearing, picking his way among the strewn wreckage. She called to him and hurried to catch up.

“You can’t leave that boy alone,” he said to her. “Get back in there.”

“Who made you boss?”

“This ain’t no time to go all femi-Nazi on me.” His good

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