The Burning Fields: Book 5 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (Surviving the Fall Series - Book 5) Read online

  The Burning

  FIELDS

  Surviving the Fall Series

  Book 5

  By

  Mike Kraus

  © 2017 Mike Kraus

  www.MikeKrausBooks.com

  [email protected]

  www.facebook.com/MikeKrausBooks

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, without the permission in writing from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Author’s Notes

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  Special Thanks

  This book wouldn’t be possible without the help and support of my amazing beta reading team.

  Thank you to Claudia, Glenda, Julie, Marlys & Shari for your awesome feedback during the beta reading process!

  Preface

  Last time, on Surviving the Fall….

  Rick left Nellis Air Force Base and headed east in a Humvee provided to him by the commander of said base. His journey east was, thankfully, much calmer than his journey through the city of Las Vegas. The unusually warm Autumn weather soon turned sour as a blizzard blew in, catching Rick by surprise and forcing him to take shelter in the Humvee using a pile of stained tablecloths to keep warm.

  Meanwhile, in Virginia, Dianne and her children upped the ante on their preparations as a strange man appeared. After fortifying their house against attacks the man returned and Dianne was forced to shoot him or risk having him grow violent and harm them in his attempts to steal from them.

  Mark, Dianne’s eldest son, witnessed the shooting and is having some trouble coming to terms with what happened. In addition to trying to help her son cope with what he witnessed Dianne is disturbed by something the man said before she killed him. Something about there being “others” whom he was working for.

  And now, Surviving the Fall Episode 5.

  Chapter 1

  The last few miles of any trip are always filled with a mixed bag of emotions. The excitement of being at the destination—especially if it’s home and it’s been a long time since the last visit—mixes with the uncertainty of whether things will be exactly as they were before. If the road to the destination is a familiar one that hasn’t been tread in many days, weeks, months or years there’s a sense of nostalgia as every similarity and difference between the last visit and the current one are illuminated in stark detail.

  For Rick the differences were more startling this time than ever before. The usually clear road was covered in snow and burned-out wrecks of cars stretched across the small town of Ellisville. Homes were boarded up and some had been demolished by fire. As he crossed from the town onto the country road the destruction became less pronounced but there were still signs that the effects of the event had reached to even the smallest and most remote corners of the world.

  Rick turned off of the main road, feeling his stomach jump in anticipation of finally being back. When he got to the gate on his driveway he stopped, got out of his car and smiled. They’re still here. Snow was thick on the ground but someone had shoveled the driveway between the house and the gate. He opened the gate and swung it around, then got back in his car and drove through, taking his time so that the tires wouldn’t spin out and kick rocks and dirt into the air as he headed down the drive.

  The house was beautiful. It had a sort of glow to it that made him feel completely at peace. He could see smoke coming from the chimney and grinned again. Rick stopped his car in front of the house and turned off the engine before stepping out. It had been a long journey but he was, finally, home. There was laughter coming from his children inside that he could hear even through the closed door and he ran up onto the porch and rapped loudly on the front window.

  The face of his wife appeared down the hall through the window as she turned to see who was outside. She wore a look that was a combination of shock, surprise and absolute glee. She dropped the dish in her hand to the floor and it shattered, but she paid it no mind as she ran down the hall towards the front door.

  Rick went over to the front door and waited for his wife to open it, an ear-to-ear smile plastered across his face. As the seconds ticked past he noticed that the cloudless day was turning darker and he glanced out at the sky. Dark clouds began rolling in, driven by an ill wind that cut through the spaces between the trees like an expertly sharpened blade. Rick pulled his jacket tight around his body in an attempt to guard against the dropping temperatures but the action did little to alleviate his discomfort.

  The sky continued to darken as he turned around to look through the small windows at the top of the front door. He noticed then that the door was slightly ajar. He blinked several times, wondering if it had been like that when he first arrived. He pushed on the door slightly, peeking into the shadowy entry and shouted out.

  “Hello? Dianne? Kids?” Silence was his only answer. He pushed on the door more, opening it fully to step inside, each step he took emboldening him to move faster and with more determination. When he had seen Dianne through the window from the porch the interior had been fully lit with sprigs of holly and red berries shaped into wreaths and hanging from the walls. Now, though, the inside of the house was dark and the only sign of the decorations were curled brown leaves lying on the floor.

  “Dianne?” Rick reached into his waistband and slowly withdrew his pistol. Floorboards that he remembered being solid and firm squeaked and protested under each slow footstep he took down the hall. The walls were covered in dirt and dark red and black stains, some of which looked too much like blood for his comfort.

  “Where are you?” Rick shouted again. The idea of his wife and children possibly playing a practical joke on him had crossed his mind but the disparity between the state of the house as he saw it and how it was just moments before confirmed that something else was going on.

  Glass crunched underfoot as Rick entered the kitchen and he glanced down at the floor. The room was dark but he could make out the dish he had watched Dianne drop—along with dozens of other dishes, too. Plates, cups and bowls had been shattered on the hardwood floor while the dining room table was flipped on its side and two of the chairs were broken into pieces.

  Rick turned around and pushed open the door to the basement. He gagged at the smell that came rushing out. The scent of death overwhelmed him and he turned and ran to the sink as his stomach and chest heaved in disgust. A moment later, when he had evacuated the contents of his stomach, Rick turned back and pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and headed back to the basement door.

  Rick’s eyes grew wide as he padded down the stairs, seeing more destruction like that in the kitchen. The basement was oddly lit, not with a w
hite or yellow light but with a red one that illuminated and highlighted a thick pool of blood that was spreading across the floor. He looked off to his right and saw four bodies lying together on the floor, blood still trickling from them. He opened his mouth to scream in terror as he stumbled forward down the stairs when a sharp pain lanced through his forehead.

  Rick’s eyes fluttered open and he held a hand to his throbbing skull as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was lying on his side having just started awake and smashed his head against a strip of metal on the back of the seat in front of him. Light from the morning sun was peeking through patches of melted snow on the windshield of the Humvee. Rick looked down the length of his body, patting the layers of stained tablecloths as he tried to slow his rapid breathing and heartbeat.

  It took several seconds for his brain to register what was going on and when he did his head slumped back down and he let out a sigh. It had been years since he last had a nightmare and he couldn’t remember a single time since setting out from Los Angeles when he had even dreamed. The stress and struggle of the journey had gotten to him in more ways than one and the briefest respite had resulted in a dream that quickly devolved into something far worse. The relief at realizing that it had been just a dream slowly trickled away as Rick thought more about his wife and children and everything that could be happening to them.

  Chapter 2

  The Waters’ Homestead

  Outside Ellisville, VA

  “How’s the water level?” Jacob squatted down next to his mother.

  “We’re looking good here.” Dianne rolled out from under a table in the basement and looked at her son. “Go ahead and tell him to shut it off.”

  Jacob raced back up the stairs, down the hall, through the living room and out the back door. He waved at Mark who was standing near a faucet. Mark nodded in confirmation before turning the faucet off and heading inside and back downstairs with his brother.

  While Dianne waited for Mark and Jacob to return she looked over at Josie who was busy at the far end of the table performing the task Dianne had given her. “How’s it going, sweetie?”

  Josie didn’t look up at Dianne as she replied. “Good.” Josie’s concentration showed in her every movement as she carefully deposited a single seed into the hole of each piece of substrate.

  Dianne smiled and stood up, brushing the dirt off of her legs and arms as she surveyed the hydroponic setup. A pair of long collapsible tables served as the base for the setup. Dianne had drilled holes into the tables just big enough for plastic nets to sit in. The nets held the substrate, the material that the seeds would sit in and both absorb water from and use as a stable structure through which to grow their roots.

  Beneath each table sat a pair of short, wide plastic tubs which were filled with water and nutrients. The tubs had been raised so that their tops were pressed up against the bottom of the tables. Dark pieces of cloth were stapled along the edges of the tables and draped down to the floor, protecting the transparent plastic tubs full of water from receiving any excess light. The growth of algae and mold was a pressing concern in such a setup and cutting off light to the tubs was a key element in managing its growth.

  While Dianne filled the containers she had given her daughter, Josie, the task of placing a seed into each of the holes in the substrate nets. The substrate was completely soaked through since the nets sat down in the water and they gently bumped against the edges of the holes in the table thanks to the air pumps that were quietly gurgling away as they provided oxygen to the water in each tub.

  Dianne picked up a large piece of paper she had covered with strips of packing tape to protect it against water damage. On the paper was a diagram of the tables and holes along with labels showing which plants were going into each location. “You’ve been following this exactly, right?” Dianne glanced at her daughter who nodded in affirmation.

  “Okay, great.” Dianne patted her daughter on the back as she leaned down to examine one of the seeds. Nestled down in the small hole in the piece of rough substrate material—a mixture of mineral wool and lava rocks—sat a tiny black seed barely visible even in the brightness of the grow lights overhead. With oxygenated and nutrient-filled water and grow lights the seeds would germinate and begin to grow within just a few days. As long as they took care of the water and ensured that the plants got plenty of food and light then they would be eating fresh greens inside of a month.

  Dianne smiled at the thought before turning at the sound of her sons thumping down the stairs. “Everything look good outside?” Dianne asked Mark, noting that his rifle was still slung on his shoulder.

  “All clear.”

  “Sky still getting dark?”

  “Yeah, it looks and feels like a storm’s coming soon.”

  Dianne sighed. “Well, we might as well turn off all the non-essentials. I think tonight’s going to be a fireplace reading night for everyone after dinner.”

  “But what about the movie?” Josie still didn’t look up from her task.

  “Another night. We won’t have enough juice to run the freezers if we keep using non-essentials while the clouds and storms are bad.”

  Josie shrugged. “Okay.”

  Dianne turned to Jacob. “When she’s done, can you both head upstairs and get started on dinner? Mark and I need to organize some in the tunnel before we shut the lights off.” Jacob nodded and headed over to watch his sister while she finished up her planting. Dianne and Mark, meanwhile, headed down the stairs into the tunnel.

  It had been four days since Dianne had shot the strange man who had been harassing them and Mark seemed like he was back to normal. It had taken him a couple of days to work past witnessing his mother shoot the man point-blank but aside from catching him staring off into space more often than usual she hadn’t noticed anything wrong with him. She hadn’t had a chance to privately check and see how he was doing since yesterday, though, and figured she’d take the opportunity to do so before everyone got wrapped up in dinner.

  “What is it you wanted help with?” Mark looked around the tunnel as he took his rifle off of his shoulder and leaned it up against the wall. The weapon that Dianne had been hesitant to give to him at first had become a natural extension of his person.

  Dianne pointed to a pile of extra lumber and enough supplies to build out three more tables worth of garden beds. “Help me get these organized and stacked up neatly. I want to wait to set any more up until we’re sure the ones up there will grow without any issues.”

  Mark nodded and got to work next to his mother. The two shifted the supplies in silence for a few minutes until Dianne finally spoke. “How are you doing?”

  “Mom.” Mark’s tone had the stereotypical teenage whine around the edges. “You don’t need to keep asking me that. I’m fine.”

  “Yes I do need to keep asking you that. I know you seem fine but I want to hear about what’s going on up there in your head. You still thinking about what you saw?”

  Mark shrugged. “Not really.”

  “What’s up, then? You’ve been a bit distant the last day or two.”

  Mark didn’t reply for several seconds as he moved a box of substrate from one side of the tunnel to the other. “I guess… you said he said something about there being other people he was working for, or with, right?”

  “Yeah.” Dianne remembered every syllable of her short conversation with the stranger. “He said that he ‘had to get something for them.’”

  “Them.” Mark shook his head and sat down on an overturned plastic tub. “What do you think he meant by that?”

  Dianne sat down on the ground across from Mark. She had considered the implication of “them” often since the events a few nights prior. “There must be a group of people nearby who—”

  “How close? In Ellisville? Or Blacksburg?”

  “If I knew that, I could get a job as a psychic.” Dianne chuckled and shrugged. “I have no idea. But if they’re sending people out to scout around th
en we probably have more trouble coming our way soon.”

  “Do you think they’re the ones that burned down the Carson’s house?”

  “I don’t know why someone would do that and not burn the Statler’s place down as well.”

  “Maybe they accidentally did it?” Mark closed his eyes, trying to imagine what a group of people could have done to burn down a home. “Like they broke a gas pipe or something?”

  “No idea. It’s certainly possible, though. Maybe burning it down spooked them and they decided to stay away from the area for a while.”

  “So we should secure the property?”

  Dianne smiled. “You read my mind. Come on, let’s head upstairs. After dinner I’ll show you the plans I’ve been drawing up. I think we should get to work on them tomorrow.”

  Mark and Dianne stood up and Mark replied as he followed his mother up the stairs. “How are we going to secure the whole property?”

  Dianne smiled. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Chapter 3

  Somewhere in Utah

  “Why does the flipping weather have to change so fast around here?”

  Rick spoke to no one in particular as he climbed out the wreck of a nearby car and dusted snow and soot off of his clothes. The weather which had changed from unbearably hot to frigidly cold in the course of a day was already starting to warm back up. The two feet worth of snow that had fallen while he was huddled in the back of the Humvee was melting quickly, leaving a soft slush base on the road beneath the deceptively wet top layer.

  After waking up from his nightmare and realizing that the new day had brought warm weather Rick decided to do a bit of scouting in the nearby vehicles before taking off again. He was only a few miles inside the Fishlake National Forest but the change in scenery had been noticeable. The barren desert and small hills gave way to taller, more defined peaks and patches of green and various shades of brown though the colors were still mostly covered in white.