Chapter One
The sun had warmed his shoulders, but still a chill snaked down Chase’s back. He crouched behind a parked car. His back rested on the dusty metal as he stopped to take a breath. A second later, he rolled to the taillight and looked to his right. No sign of life or them. He shook his head. The cookie-cutter houses in shades of grey or beige appeared to be a ghost town. He’d learned that they could appear and attack fast. The young ones moved like athletes. A tad wobbly at first, but as fast and as strong as his forty-year-old body.
He ignored the sense of loss weighing him down. He missed his old life. But there was no time for that when just the wind could make a guy jump. Even the eerie silence made his breathing heavy. The quiet set him on edge. A stray piece of paper, a damned receipt, hit his foot. He practically jump out of his skin.
“You can do this,” he grumbled.
With that pep talk, he rounded the trunk. His hand gripped the fender for support. He looked to his left. More middle-class houses and cars. He couldn’t see anything that could hurt him. Not yet at least.
“Nothing! Now, get the job down,” he reprimanded his trembling hand.
Standing, he did a fast sweep of his surroundings again before he left the protection of the Hyundai. He ran across the well-manicured lawn of the house behind him. Up on the porch, he scanned again then tried the door.
“Of course they would lock the blessed place up before they were forced to evacuate,” he yelled to no one. “Just let there be medical supplies inside.”
Not a praying man, he wondered who he’d spoken too. Lord forbid one of them heard him. His already tight fists clenched harder. He lifted his foot and slammed it into the door.
“Well, that was quiet,” he mumbled under his breath.
The door hadn’t moved an inch. He turned back to the road and took a defensive pose. A quick but thorough scan showed no movement. Turning back, he put another ninja move on the door. His boot hit closer to the knob this time. He got nothing for his efforts but the sting in his foot. After taking in his surroundings, he went back to the yard and crept around the house. With his back sliding along the siding, he flashed to the past. He’d moved the same along many a mortar-damaged wall with sand stinging his eyes. A few blinks remedied those crappy memories. As he crouched again, he scanned the backyard through the slats in the picket fence.
If even one human had been present, the neighborhood wouldn’t have been so scary. Today, however, it held the potential to become a nightmare. It was the unhuman he feared. Inching the latch, he continued his assessment. He walked into the unlocked yard in a matter of minutes rather than seconds. The latch back into place, he sighed but kept moving. His instinct now to walk and scan, he made his way to the deck at the back of the house. He glared at the composite decking. It stood the test of time, but who cared. Time wasn’t a friend anymore. Moving cautiously through this new world pissed him off. He needed to forage for medical supplies that they’d needed yesterday.
Breaking into a run up the steps, he used the anger in him. Old military tactics now served him well. Not slowing down, he jump-kicked the backdoor. A slice of pain shot through his hip. The door didn’t even dent. Multi-tasking as urgency increased, he whipped off his shirt. He did another scan of the yard. With the material of his t-shirt wrapped around his hand, he punched through glass. Then, he clearing an area big enough to stick his arm through.
That accomplished, he strained to unlock the door and let himself in. He shut the door with as much gentleness as he could muster in his rush. A changing light on an alarm panel caught his eye. He let a string of expletives fly. With thirty seconds before the alarm went off and altered them to his presence, he flew to the hall closet. The door hinges protested the violence with which he
The sun had warmed his shoulders, but still a chill snaked down Chase’s back. He crouched behind a parked car. His back rested on the dusty metal as he stopped to take a breath. A second later, he rolled to the taillight and looked to his right. No sign of life or them. He shook his head. The cookie-cutter houses in shades of grey or beige appeared to be a ghost town. He’d learned that they could appear and attack fast. The young ones moved like athletes. A tad wobbly at first, but as fast and as strong as his forty-year-old body.
He ignored the sense of loss weighing him down. He missed his old life. But there was no time for that when just the wind could make a guy jump. Even the eerie silence made his breathing heavy. The quiet set him on edge. A stray piece of paper, a damned receipt, hit his foot. He practically jump out of his skin.
“You can do this,” he grumbled.
With that pep talk, he rounded the trunk. His hand gripped the fender for support. He looked to his left. More middle-class houses and cars. He couldn’t see anything that could hurt him. Not yet at least.
“Nothing! Now, get the job down,” he reprimanded his trembling hand.
Standing, he did a fast sweep of his surroundings again before he left the protection of the Hyundai. He ran across the well-manicured lawn of the house behind him. Up on the porch, he scanned again then tried the door.
“Of course they would lock the blessed place up before they were forced to evacuate,” he yelled to no one. “Just let there be medical supplies inside.”
Not a praying man, he wondered who he’d spoken too. Lord forbid one of them heard him. His already tight fists clenched harder. He lifted his foot and slammed it into the door.
“Well, that was quiet,” he mumbled under his breath.
The door hadn’t moved an inch. He turned back to the road and took a defensive pose. A quick but thorough scan showed no movement. Turning back, he put another ninja move on the door. His boot hit closer to the knob this time. He got nothing for his efforts but the sting in his foot. After taking in his surroundings, he went back to the yard and crept around the house. With his back sliding along the siding, he flashed to the past. He’d moved the same along many a mortar-damaged wall with sand stinging his eyes. A few blinks remedied those crappy memories. As he crouched again, he scanned the backyard through the slats in the picket fence.
If even one human had been present, the neighborhood wouldn’t have been so scary. Today, however, it held the potential to become a nightmare. It was the unhuman he feared. Inching the latch, he continued his assessment. He walked into the unlocked yard in a matter of minutes rather than seconds. The latch back into place, he sighed but kept moving. His instinct now to walk and scan, he made his way to the deck at the back of the house. He glared at the composite decking. It stood the test of time, but who cared. Time wasn’t a friend anymore. Moving cautiously through this new world pissed him off. He needed to forage for medical supplies that they’d needed yesterday.
Breaking into a run up the steps, he used the anger in him. Old military tactics now served him well. Not slowing down, he jump-kicked the backdoor. A slice of pain shot through his hip. The door didn’t even dent. Multi-tasking as urgency increased, he whipped off his shirt. He did another scan of the yard. With the material of his t-shirt wrapped around his hand, he punched through glass. Then, he clearing an area big enough to stick his arm through.
That accomplished, he strained to unlock the door and let himself in. He shut the door with as much gentleness as he could muster in his rush. A changing light on an alarm panel caught his eye. He let a string of expletives fly. With thirty seconds before the alarm went off and altered them to his presence, he flew to the hall closet. The door hinges protested the violence with which he
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