Adrian woke all at once, not sure what had disturbed him. Eyes still closed, he listened, and heard nothing.
His head ached with a fierce throbbing and though he knew he was in his on cot, he didn’t know how he’d gotten there. He opened his eyes to look at the alarm clock and frowned, listening harder. 9 a.m. He had slept till nine and yet, there was no noise from his camp.
He buttoned jeans he didn’t remember putting on and sat up, aware of the very bright light seeping through the shades. He pulled on his boots, stuffing the laces inside and still, silence. Alarm bells were going off in his head and he quickly strapped on his gun.
“Angela.” He called for her silently, pulling on his jacket and stepping to the door. The air was chilly as the camper door swung open…
Adrian sucked in a painful breath. He grabbed the door frame for support, horrified to feel sharp pains radiate from his chest. It was gone. All of it.
Abandoned, torn up, rusted campers sat on flat tires without windows or doors, and the sickly weeds were growing up over the wheels. The air smelled sour, though the sky was finally clear of the sky grit, but there were no people here.
From the doorway he could see the Mess and the parking area, and although everything was there, it was like the campers; broken, rusty, and charred, with weeds starting to take over the tires.
He stepped slowly down into ankle high greenish plants that seemed to gravitate towards him, brushing, caressing. He turned, and was stunned to see that his camper now looked like the rest of the camp - old, over. There was even a huge hole in the rusted-out bottom stair that should have tripped him and broken his ankle.
His 9mm was in his hand now, the survivor inside coming forward, moving his feet. It was all gone here, all wrong. Charred personal items and bloodstains were on steps, walls, vehicles, and the ground, but they looked faded, frozen in time.
His heart pounded irregularly and he winced this time at the terrifying feeling. Panicking blue eyes found his shiny semi nearby, but he ignored the instinct screaming at him to get in it and run, sensing the trap that might lie hidden there.
He called for Angela again and his heart grew cold when she still didn’t answer. He turned to find her camper, but was drawn to the sight of the crosses on an edge of the cracked pavement.
They were made of wood and scraps, a graveyard of roughly fifty, over-grown and neglected. He knew who they were before he started reading the names... his army.
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Release Date: Feb, 2012