Humanity Abides Book Three The Search For Home A Post - Apocalyptic Novel By C. A. Bird This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Copyright 2014 by Carol A. Bird All rights reserved ISBN-13: 978-1500736040 ISBN-10: 150073604X Cover art Copyright 2014 by David Bird Special Thanks to: Christine Temple - Editor David A. Bird - Illustrator Lori A. Bird – Contributor www.carolannbird.com Acknowledgments I would like to thank the people who have bought the books in my Humanity Abides Series and who have followed me and my career on Facebook. Thanks, as well, to my friends and family who have supported me, and given me the time to pursue my dream of writing. Books by C.A. Bird Humanity Abides - Book One - Shelter Click Here! Humanity Abides - Book Two - Emergence Click Here! Humanity Abides - Book Three - The Search For Home Click Here! http://www.carolannbird.com Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Acknowledgements Books by C.A. Bird 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 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Epilogue Other Books About the Author 1 Deadly radiation swept across the face of the earth, concealed in clouds of dust and fog. Swirling around obstacles and funneling down canyons, it penetrated yielding bodies and tissues, destroying DNA, the very foundation of life. It came down in torrential rains, settling on the land and poisoning plant life, rivers, lakes and oceans. After months had passed following the Great War that had ravaged the planet, the radiation had finally decayed enough to allow healing to begin. The attack came just before dawn. Mark was cozy warm, curled around Lori’s back, when the gunfire erupted off to the side of their wagon. He and Lori both came awake with a start, flinging the wool blankets to the side. “Not again,” she moaned, as they grabbed the guns that were never out of reach and quickly crawled to the rear of the wagon. After the first night out of Eagle Nest, they had learned to sleep in their clothes. “Ashley and Kevin, keep your heads down and stay in the wagon!” Mark yelled, as he checked the space behind the tailgate and then vaulted over it. Hitting the ground, he rolled under the wagon, hearing Lori grunt as she hit the ground right behind him. They had positioned a board, from the front wheel to the rear wheel, giving them minimal cover. It wouldn’t stop a bullet, but might slow it down a little depending on the caliber. Mark poked his rifle barrel over the board and fired at the muzzle flash off across the plain. By now there was return fire from the other two wagons. “Son-of-a-bitch!” The cry came from the wagon to the south of the camp and Mark recognized Willy’s voice, the younger of the Yancey brothers. “How the hell did they get past the perimeter?” Mark yelled at Lori. “Beats me. I hope the guys are all right,” she replied, shooting at a shadow as it flitted from bush to bush, moving closer to the circled wagons. A bullet smashed through the side of the wagon just above Mark’s head and he quickly calculated where it hit in relation to the kids. Getting off three more shots in quick succession he put a small, brass horn to his lips and blew hard, the signal to hold fire so the rear guard could approach the attackers without fear of being hit. Lori crawled to the back of the wagon and Mark felt it shift as she went over the tailgate to check on her children. More muzzle flashes, like flashbulbs in the distance, and then surprised yells came from the darkness as the attackers found themselves surrounded. The shots ceased suddenly when Einstein’s voice called out, “Throw down your weapons! Get on the ground.” Mark saw a mounted phantom draw a bead on a shadowy figure, and the flash from an AR-15. A grunt came from the shadow, as he threw his weapon to the ground and reached for the sky. The inhabitants of the camp stayed behind cover until a half-dozen, scrawny men, their hands in the air, were herded into the space between the wagons by three men on horseback. Some of the captives looked angry and some defiant. All were scared. “That’s all of ‘em, Mark. They were dug in under a big pile of rocks off to the east, just inside the perimeter. We almost camped on top of ‘em,” Jimbo said. He sat astride a horse rather than his usual mount, an old Indian motorcycle. Mark crawled out from under the wagon, brushing the dirt off his jeans. They shoved the prisoners to the center of the space and had them sit by the campfire. “Get on the ground,” Einstein told them. “In a circle. Backs together.” He nodded at Mark and then he and the other two guards turned and rode back into the brush, ghostly figures swallowed by the early morning fog. The sky was beginning to lighten in the east and the chill penetrated the light clothing Mark and the others were wearing. Terry Holcomb, his nineteen year old son Cody, and Sheri Summerland stood guard over the prisoners while the others returned to the wagons to put on warmer clothing. Mark climbed into the wagon, and immediately noticed the hole in the side was only a few feet from where the children had hidden. His anger flared and he resolved they would find a way to make the wagons more impenetrable. “Are they gone Daddy?” Ashley asked Mark. “Can we get up now?” Mark smiled, vividly remembering the first time she had called him Daddy. It was after he had awakened in pain from the fight with the mutated creature that had haunted him since the day the Remnant had been forced from the bomb shelter. She had stood beside his bed, tears in her eyes, “Daddy, are you okay?” As terrible as he’d felt, his spirits rose as he realized how badly he wanted Lori’s children to accept him as their dad. “We captured them, Ash. They can’t hurt us now.” Kevin rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Mommy, why do people keep shooting at us? Did we do something wrong?” He slipped his jacket on and pulled a knit cap down around his ears as he crawled from his sleeping bag. Lori reached over and pulled Kevin into an embrace. At six years old he was having trouble understanding why others kept trying to hurt them.