Read Online Dance of Ashes and Smoke (Age of Monsters Book 1) by Harley Gordon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Harley Gordon
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over him.
I pushed into the lead as we neared the fence, reaching for the grenade hooked into my belt, almost wrecking as I yanked out the pin and threw with every ounce of strength in me, grateful for years of baseball in the backyard. It sailed through the air and we soared, waited, prayed.
The fence and the assortment of monsters by it didn’t stand a chance.
We zoomed through the dance of ashes and smoke, into the clear air on the other side, pushing the bikes to the limits, leaving the city behind as the monsters scrambled to follow us.
We rode long into the night, determined to put as many miles between us and Philly—and fewer miles between us and the sorceress—as we could.
We stopped once we passed the Virginia border, after going the long way to avoid DC, which wasn’t taken over and turned into a prison camp like Philly. It was a graveyard the monsters had leveled, wanting to take out any leadership who survived the initial attacks.
Olivia disappeared into the woods, muttered something about dinner, leaving Jax and I to set up camp. I ordered him to put up the tents while I started a fire, annoyed with his presence.
I hadn’t been able to convince him to stay behind or Liv to leave him. She was under the crazy notion he’d be helpful. I still couldn’t believe she’d let him drive Al’s bike.
She’d always had a soft spot for abandoned puppies.
I wished Alcott were here, the ache of missing him twisted and sharp. He was a natural in the woods, living off the land, camping, hiking, fishing, hunting. I had loved it too. Except the hunting. If he were here, we’d probably be eating deer or at least squirrel for dinner. A pang stabbed my chest at the memories of the fun we’d had in the woods all our lives.
Dad was such a survivalist and Mom had loved being outside. She’d spent more time in her garden and hiking up the mountains in our backyard than she had inside the house. Our house showed it too. From the outside it looked like a storybook cottage, nestled in a grove of trees, mountains rising up in the background, huge hydrangea bushes and other flowers forming a secret garden. Fruit trees and bushes gave off their sweet scent. Vegetable rows surrounded by a little brown fence.
Inside though, was a mess. Books everywhere, a mix of decorative tastes made it look at best eclectic, but really just crazy. It was kind of funny, actually. Mom had loved bright colors and the modern look, but she’d loved the antiques too. And just goofy stuff. Like a dancing and singing bear or her chair shaped like a shoe. Dad was great about it all, he just shook his head in fondness at whatever new thing she put in the house. I had always been embarrassed to bring people home even though I’d loved it. Tears blinded me as I collected wood. I missed them so much it gave me physical pain.
Shaking it off, I reminded myself I wasn’t alone in this pain.
The two tents were up and the fire blazed by the time Liv returned with a limp rabbit she’d already skinned. A slight smile ghosted across my lips. She’d always tagged along with our family in the woods.
She got it set up on a crude spit and sank beside me on a fallen log I’d brought over.
The campfire did little to warm me, so I huddled closer to her as we cleaned our weapons while waiting for dinner to finish cooking. It was our first real, fresh meat in a long time, my taste buds and stomach trying to talk me into food poisoning, not caring if the meat wasn’t cooked through. Most of the farms were abandoned and factories closed down, leaving little fresh food other than what we could grow on balconies and window boxes.
Staring into the flames, it was hard to stop myself from remembering our apartment on fire, everything taken from us except the motorcycles and weapons and a few treasured possessions.
It was hard not to see the shapes of my family’s faces in the flames.
I turned my focus back to my disassembled gun and wiped my filthy rag across
I pushed into the lead as we neared the fence, reaching for the grenade hooked into my belt, almost wrecking as I yanked out the pin and threw with every ounce of strength in me, grateful for years of baseball in the backyard. It sailed through the air and we soared, waited, prayed.
The fence and the assortment of monsters by it didn’t stand a chance.
We zoomed through the dance of ashes and smoke, into the clear air on the other side, pushing the bikes to the limits, leaving the city behind as the monsters scrambled to follow us.
We rode long into the night, determined to put as many miles between us and Philly—and fewer miles between us and the sorceress—as we could.
We stopped once we passed the Virginia border, after going the long way to avoid DC, which wasn’t taken over and turned into a prison camp like Philly. It was a graveyard the monsters had leveled, wanting to take out any leadership who survived the initial attacks.
Olivia disappeared into the woods, muttered something about dinner, leaving Jax and I to set up camp. I ordered him to put up the tents while I started a fire, annoyed with his presence.
I hadn’t been able to convince him to stay behind or Liv to leave him. She was under the crazy notion he’d be helpful. I still couldn’t believe she’d let him drive Al’s bike.
She’d always had a soft spot for abandoned puppies.
I wished Alcott were here, the ache of missing him twisted and sharp. He was a natural in the woods, living off the land, camping, hiking, fishing, hunting. I had loved it too. Except the hunting. If he were here, we’d probably be eating deer or at least squirrel for dinner. A pang stabbed my chest at the memories of the fun we’d had in the woods all our lives.
Dad was such a survivalist and Mom had loved being outside. She’d spent more time in her garden and hiking up the mountains in our backyard than she had inside the house. Our house showed it too. From the outside it looked like a storybook cottage, nestled in a grove of trees, mountains rising up in the background, huge hydrangea bushes and other flowers forming a secret garden. Fruit trees and bushes gave off their sweet scent. Vegetable rows surrounded by a little brown fence.
Inside though, was a mess. Books everywhere, a mix of decorative tastes made it look at best eclectic, but really just crazy. It was kind of funny, actually. Mom had loved bright colors and the modern look, but she’d loved the antiques too. And just goofy stuff. Like a dancing and singing bear or her chair shaped like a shoe. Dad was great about it all, he just shook his head in fondness at whatever new thing she put in the house. I had always been embarrassed to bring people home even though I’d loved it. Tears blinded me as I collected wood. I missed them so much it gave me physical pain.
Shaking it off, I reminded myself I wasn’t alone in this pain.
The two tents were up and the fire blazed by the time Liv returned with a limp rabbit she’d already skinned. A slight smile ghosted across my lips. She’d always tagged along with our family in the woods.
She got it set up on a crude spit and sank beside me on a fallen log I’d brought over.
The campfire did little to warm me, so I huddled closer to her as we cleaned our weapons while waiting for dinner to finish cooking. It was our first real, fresh meat in a long time, my taste buds and stomach trying to talk me into food poisoning, not caring if the meat wasn’t cooked through. Most of the farms were abandoned and factories closed down, leaving little fresh food other than what we could grow on balconies and window boxes.
Staring into the flames, it was hard to stop myself from remembering our apartment on fire, everything taken from us except the motorcycles and weapons and a few treasured possessions.
It was hard not to see the shapes of my family’s faces in the flames.
I turned my focus back to my disassembled gun and wiped my filthy rag across
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