The Survivors: Book One

1/5/2013

It's getting worse. The people we're seeing, the awful, pain-filled refugees still trying to find each other, haunt me; stalk me.

They fall to their knees at my feet, beg me with tears and outstretched hands to help, to save them, and then I blink, and see they never even looked at us! What the hell is happening to me? A side effect of one of the experiments? Am I in a coma somewhere and this is all one of my horrid nightmares? How I wish that were true. I'd gladly trade my life for America's.

I share the blame for all the pain and death. I should have revealed who I was, back when there might have been a chance to stop it all, but like those who betrayed us, I didn't want anyone to know the truth either. The need to atone is consuming, overwhelming, and I can't make enough progress each day to be satisfied. The worry is endless.

1/7/2013

The dreams are slowly convincing me I'm not crazy, demanding I take action. I remember each scene in such vivid detail when I wake! Even in the clear light of day, they look good to me.

I owe the whole world a huge debt, but to my country, I owe everything that I am…even the one waiting for me in Arkansas. I have to at least try.

I've decided to start in the morning, when we reach Las Vegas. That infamous skyline is dark now, but in the city that never sleeps, there are people. I know. I can almost feel them.

Adrian crushed out his smoke, thinking he'd been right and wrong on that one. He'd found refugees who were grateful for his help, but he had also found Tonya, who killed Joe.

Adrian turned the page. Too bad he couldn't prove it. The topless dancer had immediately pounced on who she thought was in charge, while Adrian was just starting to realize the job belonged to him. By the time she'd understood the goodhearted, alcoholic, firefighter was only interested in drinking, screwing, and forgetting, she was openly sleeping in his bed and fetching his bottles.

Adrian had wanted to kick her out for helping the kind man become a drunk, but even one life lost on his watch was more than he could allow. So he had thrown himself into caring for his small, shell-shocked herd, hoping Joe would eventually see her for the scheming bitch she was.

They had set out for a base in Montana, his words of the secret bunker there easy to believe, though he had no intentions of staying with them - not until he made it west. His heart was overjoyed to finally have his purpose in life, the reason he'd been spared. He was a Shepherd. That was why he'd been allowed to live. It was his duty to help rebuild their world.