Dead States: Remnant REAP: Dead States, #1

By Abrey Davis

Change swept through the small town of Wolf Creek and scattered the lives of those caught there. It wasn't the change anyone was hoping for, and it shook everyone it touched to the core.

Teen friends find themselves surviving an apocalyptic event that tests their strengths and weaknesses. It also takes from them everything and everyone they held dear.

As they face an uncertain future, they centralize what they have left, hoping it's enough. But as the remnants of life adjust to a cold future, each wonders: At what cost is survival worth living?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Echo Press
• Release date: Jan 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781301633838

Book preview

Chapter One

The middle school nearing the end of construction was Wolf Creek’s newest school in almost forty years and it was due time for one.

While the small community had budgeted the new building, the welcome was mixed.

Yeah, they wait until we’re in the high school before they improve anything, James Cummings only half-joked as the four teens made their way to the old brick and block structure known as Wolf Creek Junior High, soon to be the new Wolf Creek Elementary School. Why a new middle school? Why not a high school?

Studies show that middle school is the best time in a kid’s learning years to introduce new technologies, Andrew told him. He grinned as James gave him a scowl. It was followed by a primmer frown from Sandra, but Andrew didn’t mind it coming from her. They got a point, you know.

James shrugged. Just write our class off as tech illiterate?

Something like that, Sandra said as they passed the second antiques shop on the town’s short double line of downtown.

Figures. James didn’t look at Sandra as she said it. Being siblings and barely a year apart, he knew she was only semi-serious.

Hey, at least there’s a little money in it on our end, Andrew said, nodding to the old school building that was coming into view around the next block. We’re not just volunteering this summer.

As if sensing the word summer, the clock tower that watched over the small town of 1,706 flashed an ‘88°’ in its newer temperature sign above the Watchworks’ Community Bank entrance.

Ugh, nearly ninety, Leah groaned as she looked up at the numbers. She nudged Sandra with an elbow. At least the basement will be cooler.

Andrew grinned anew at the comment. James shot him a short look.

Leah didn’t see the exchange and didn’t have to. Andrew had been calmly pursuing Sandra since their sandbox years. Getting Sandra into a quiet or secluded spot had always been Andrew’s pastime, but nothing much transpired once the two were alone. At least, nothing that Sandra had shared with Leah yet. 

The four teens stopped at the cross-streets and waited for the lone traffic light in town to time-out the single car slowing to a stop.

Look at that, Sandra said, pointing across the street.

A freshly cleaned shop window was being stenciled by a woman in her late forties. A sandwich board out front was chalked in garish Grand Opening letters in poorly-rendered calligraphy.

They watched as the woman wrote.

Another antiques shop? Leah said. Why?

James shook his head, making the morning sun glint off his red hair like a signal. Just what we need, another antique shop. Another place for old farmers to try to sell other old farmers stuff everyone already has in their barn.

Andrew shrugged, letting his arm unseat the red and black 4H bandana headband holding Sandra’s bright scarlet hair. She gave him a mock furious look and resettled the headband, making sure the words Timber Wolves were centered over her hair.

It’ll be for tourists, Andrew said. "No farmer shops these places. Some out-of-towner will come by and ooh and ahh over some milk can and overpay the shopkeeper. That’s all."

What tourists? James wanted to know. No one comes here unless the fair is underway – which was last week – or the cider mill fest is going in Twin Rivers. Why would they?

Leah was watching the shop. The owner had finished writing Now Open and was still in the doorway when the shop’s first customer walked in. Foster.

Figures. James shook his head. He’s always haunting those places.

They watched Foster Black, fifteen-years-old and a fellow classmate for a few of them in the coming school year, duck into the new shop and disappear in the shadowed interior. He was short, somewhat stocky in build, and made no attempt to hide his fascination with gadgetry and things from bygone industrial eras. Not sciencey, Sandra had discovered in seventh grade when they had partnered up for a project, but with a definite bend to cogs and gears.

Steampunk, she said, nodding. That’s his thing. Not really antiques, but he’ll get a kick out of anything brass.

Andrew glanced to her. "And you know this how?"

The slight jealous tone in his words made Leah giggle.

He found these really old brass goggles with all these gear-like things to focus them and shined them up and brought them to school just before letting out for the summer, Sandra added. They were like something from a movie or science fiction book.

Andrew’s frown deepened. Why?

Sandra looked far up at him, as most of them had to. Just for show, I guess.

He hmphed and let the subject slide. The light’s turned. Let’s go. Emmett’s probably already there.

They crossed the street to the next uneven sidewalk.

Little had changed in the town of Wolf Creek in its 250-year history. The town that had been built on the banks of Wolf Creek, one of the twin rivers that divided most of Bear County, and the town hadn’t grown much. Aside from the defunct grain mill and what was left of the fire damaged woolen mill buildings, the shops were much as they had been over ninety-plus years ago. About the only significant change had come at the bridge on the opposite end of town. The town council had added a cement slope to the bouldered riverfront, allowing easier fishing from the banks. It was merely a hump of a change, but eagerly accepted by most townsfolk.

The teens passed the small storefronts that had become nearly invisible to them now. It was Patches & Needles, Scoops, three antique shops, and a few other converted stores that housed the town’s necessities. The resale shop with its retro neon lettering was out of place in the row of tall, Victorian era buildings, as was the sports second-hand shop and narrow auto supply store. At least Ezro’s Bait & Tackle and the Tack This feed and supply store were more appropriately located at the end of town near the lumber warehouse. Tack This even had a hitching post on its low-traffic side street for customers to tie up their horse if they actually rode into town.

James gave a double storefront they passed a dismissive look. The modern furniture inside looked sorely out of place in the small interior, crowded with mattresses, bunk beds, and polished brass frames. About the only store seeming to fit the row of tall shops was the barber shop turned pharmacy.

Like a bunch of new patches on old clothes, he mumbled as they ducked beneath the Yarn & Bobbins’ low-hanging awning that annexed the quilting shop.

Even the campground’s getting new buildings, Andrew told them. Dan Roy said the lumber side got a huge shipment of log house kits in for the camp. Little cabins and stuff. Emmett got hired for construction. Soon as the last haying is over, I’m in, too. Wish school would hold off starting for another two weeks.

So you can make money? Leah asked.

He nodded.

Sandra sighed, wistfulness in her tone. I wish I’d gotten in as a camp counselor this summer. I’d love that job.

Bunch of screaming kids crying for their mommy all summer? Andrew chuckled. No way. You’d hate it. A week of it at the fairgrounds was enough.

Much better to be stuck wrestling with Dewey’s decimals in the library labyrinth? She shook her head. Tough call, Andrew.

I think when we’re done we should swing back by and get ice cream, James said.

As one they all looked to Scoops ice cream shop across the street.

They don’t open until four, Andrew said.

On a Saturday? James shook his head.

Yep. Andrew eyed Sandra looking at the ice cream shop. It’ll take us ‘til then to clean up the school anyway.

Sandra wasn’t looking at the ice cream shop. Instead her brown eyes were on the sidewalk ahead, a pout on her lips. I can’t go. I have to baby-sit at six.

We’re not going to eat for two hours, Sandra, Andrew said. Plenty of time for ice cream before you have to go.

I thought you were done sitting for Lissie, Leah said. Or is it Ruby?

There was hope in her tone. Ruby needed sitting and rarely got it. A big sister influence would have done the seven-year-old girl surrounded by literal trailer trash a world of good, or so most of the babysitting-age girls in town thought.

Sandra nodded, but not in response to the question. No, it’s more like chaperoning for Jessica, Elizabeth, and Emma. At thirteen they’re too old to have a sitter but too young for a sleepover alone. The Sevelles are going out of town tonight, so I get to be house-mom.

Still time for ice cream, Andrew said, hearing only what he chose to.

Leah glanced back at the town’s four-corners.

Foster was on the sidewalk in front of the antique shop, turned to face west.

Something held his attention and Leah looked there, too. She slowed walking.

On the horizon just over the three mountains known as Belle Sister Mountains was a layer of pink clouds. The sky was orange and purple, oddly heavy-looking.

Wow, Leah breathed, stopping and staring. Look at that.

James, Sandra, and Andrew halted and turned to follow her gaze.

What’s that? James asked, frowning at the unusual coloration.

It looks like sherbet, Sandra said, standing closer to Leah. Like rainbow sherbet smeared on the sky.

They stood transfixed, watching the pale pink, orange, and purplish clouds shift and slide over each other.

Leah looked down as her cell phone hummed lowly. She took it out of her pocket and flicked it open. The display screen was cloudy, with jumbled lettering. She shook it and pressed the button for camera. The display showed a colorful boulder painted with Happy 16 Josh!

She smiled. Her fingertips were still pink and blue from the spray paint artistry.

Oh, is that the rock? Sandra leaned close and the girls huddled over the phone camera shot. Ooh, it turned out good.

He’s not sixteen until Monday, but we’re celebrating tomorrow night, Leah said, blushing faintly beneath her tan. I’m helping Widow Mayers leach lye tomorrow after lunch, but the rest of the day is just Josh and me and a picnic supper.

A mischievous slant came to Sandra’s words. Well, he might be sixteen, Leah, but you’re still jailbait age.

Leah rolled her eyes and pocketed the phone to hitch up her brunette ponytail that was also held with a 4H bandana. Not much longer.

James and Andrew turned from the oddly colored skyline.

Weird, Andrew said. He prodded Sandra ahead of them until she bumped into Leah and started them all walking again.

I heard this morning there was a high chance of massive solar flares. They’ve been going on in little bursts all night, James said, watching his sister hang back to keep astride Andrew. Maybe that’s what’s up with the sky.

Solar flares don’t make the sky different colors, do they? Andrew moved a branch of the low hanging ornament tree that marked the last shop on the block before the school district. I thought they just knocked out signals and shit.

That, too. James glanced back at Foster, but the boy was gone. Well, Black would know, but he’s gone already.

Leah was looking ahead to the single-story building that had served as the junior high for far too long. Another day with Dunham.

Andrew shrugged. At least this time it’s not detention with Dunham.

––––––––

Emmett Bremen stood at the junior high’s back entrance, glaring at the man standing between him and the wood shop door. In another twenty years, he might be that man. The older Bremen shared the same brown hair, gray to hazel eyes, and a build that had put too many fellow drunkards in the hospital.

It was also a man who had driven his wife and twin daughters out of the