The Survivors: Book One

In the past, the weather was the worst challenge the Pilots had to face here. Now, it was the least of their worries. Arriving Birds were being blown out of the smoky skies before they could descend to safety - crashing, exploding, flinging twisted metal debris flying into the screaming mob of rioters. Some aircraft were only damaged, and would crash later in remote locations, but many had already fallen on the scene from ambush - telephone poles and grenade launchers were hard for the overloaded choppers to avoid. In short, it was mayhem.

"Yes!" The cadet barracks came into full view through the thicket of trees. "He has to be here!"

Men shouted, hungry rioters screamed, guns fired, and gust after violent gust of stomach-churning wind pushed against the truck, slowing it down. The sky above the base rolled with thick red clouds that flashed angrily, and black flakes fell like a blizzard, coating everything with a heavy layer of soot that looked like ash from a volcano.

Kenn looked up suddenly, the shadow of the chopper passing overhead not what drew his attention, but the silence of its engines. He stared in shock as the big Bird began to freefall, spiraling toward him.

Not realizing the truck's engine had died too, Kenn mashed the pedal and ducked, as the chopper spun past. He met the eyes of the horrified pilot for a brief second, before it hit the main dorm, exploded through it.

Orange flames and thick black smoke billowed upward, and Kenn's heart froze as the cheers and screams of those outside the fences grew louder, hungrier. If the boy had been in there, he was dead now. No one could have survived that.

Falling apart at the seams

8

By midnight, communication lines were down across the country. No internet, no phones, no cable - and unchecked rioting across the nation. With their lives suddenly blown away, the stunned survivors had no idea what to do. Few thought to help each other.

Split between broken states that had only small areas capable of sustaining life, most people began trying to get out of the cities. Searching for safety, and unaware that it no longer existed, millions more were lost in the aftermath. At dawn, the American people were confident, arrogant about their future. By dusk, the dream was crushed, faith not only shaken, but mortally wounded.

Less than a week after the War, the death toll stood at 250 million in the United States alone. Twenty million of those who survived were seriously injured or blinded and another seven million had the radiation sickness. Most of those didn't live to see the new year.