Tales of the Collapse (Book 3 of War's End) by Christine Shuck

Author:Christine Shuck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hope, survival, postapocalyptic, dystopian, strong women, societal collapse, g581, wars end
Publisher: Christine Shuck

Run While You Can

“When you can’t save others, at least try to save yourself.”

Arriving at Clinton had been a letdown, Serena had seen it in Brad’s face. When it came to the town, there wasn’t much to be done. Brad had stopped dead at a burned hulk of timbers and said nothing. His face held a mixture of fury and anguish, his lips worked silently, and his fingers whitened as they gripped the pack on his back. After several moments of silence, he had turned away. Which really said everything. His family was gone. So was his home.

Max and Annie hadn’t said a thing, not even a whine of complaint. They followed as he turned on his heel and marched them towards the east, to the outskirts of town. There they had found the same scene; the only difference was the wide space between the farmhouses. The corpses of horses, and of other animals of uncertain breed lay rotting on the ground, spread out randomly across the wide drive. The farmhouse they stopped at was in ruins, nothing but the blackened bricks of a chimney stood among the collapsed, burned timbers. Nearby, a barn was in the same shape, but several smaller buildings appeared relatively intact and they ended up bedding down for the night.

It wasn’t their final destination. A half-collapsed building in the forest marked the end of their journey the following day. A tree had fallen against the house years ago. Its branches poking through what were now open holes along the back edge. The house hadn’t been occupied in years, and the remains of the front of the property was desecrated with graffiti and empty bottles of beer and whiskey. And it seemed that someone had collected the cigarette butts, arranging them in what were now moldering pyramids, black with mold.

“It’s remote,” Brad had said, “off the beaten path.” He shrugged at Serena in what might have been an apologetic way, but he’d been so quiet since seeing the remains of his family’s home, that she wasn’t sure he was even capable of that. His expression had settled into a blank darkness, and he pulled away from her that night, instead staying up to provide watch, despite the proclaimed safety of the location.

The first night, they slept in the filth and mess. By the next morning, however, Serena was determined to make a go of it. She didn’t have long, after all. The baby would be here soon. Any day, by her estimate. So as the dull rays of the sun peeked intermittently through the low cloud cover and the chill of the morning hung around them, she roused Max and Annie and set them to work. Some of the bottles could be rinsed in the nearby creek and made use of. Others could serve as the base for an outdoor cooking pit once the clay soil warmed enough to be dug up and shaped into an oven. By the third day there, they had settled into a routine of sorts.

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