Veils: The Veils Trilogy, #1

By Linda Mooney

After three tours of duty, and serving the last four years overseas, Griffin Strong is looking forward to finally returning home and living out his life without bombings and bloodshed. After a 300-mile drive home, a quick trip through the car wash ends in another reality. An eerie, fog-covered reality where he is all alone…or so he thought.

No electricity, cars don't function, guns won't fire…Griff has to find protection for himself, but protection against what exactly? What the hell even happened? Survival instincts kicking in, he stocks up on whatever he can carry, and sets out on his own.

Griff soon learns that he's not completely alone, though life of any form is rare to come across, but who can he trust?

When the subway in Manhattan dumps Natalia Westfall in a snow-covered, deserted town far from New York, she's left alone, frozen, and desperate. Hope lies in a uniformed military man, but will he want to be weighed down by a sick, weak female like her? Griff takes a chance, and it doesn't take him long to learn she's anything but weak.

Thirst, starvation, acid rain, enemies, and extreme temps—what will get them first? The odds are stacked against them, and all they can count on is each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Mooney
• Release date: Sep 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781941321980

Linda Mooney

Linda loves to write sensuously erotic romance with a fantasy, paranormal, or science fiction flair. Her technique is often described as being as visual as a motion picture or graphic novel. A wife, mother, grandmother, and retired Kindergarten and music teacher, she lives in a small south Texas town near the Gulf coast where she delves into other worlds filled with daring exploits, adventure, and intense love. She has numerous best sellers, including 10 consecutive #1s. In 2009, she was named Whiskey Creek Press Torrid's Author of the Year, and her book My Strength, My Power, My Love was named the 2009 WCPT Book of the Year. In 2011, her book Lord of Thunder was named the Epic Ebook "Eppie" Award Winner for Best Erotic Sci-Fi Romance. In addition, she write naughty erotic romances under the name of Carolyn Gregg, and horror under the pseudonym of Gail Smith. For more information about Linda Mooney books and titles, and to sign up for her newsletter, please visit her website. http://www.LindaMooney.com

Book preview

1

Carwash

When Griffin Strong turned onto Leopaldo Boulevard, another wave of nostalgia washed over him. Four more blocks, and he’d reach Payor Street. Two more left turns, and he’d be home.

Home. 

God, it’s been so long, he murmured. 

It had been four long years since he’d last been here. Four long, additional nerve-wracking, PTSD-inducing years of being deployed overseas. Away from family. Away from friends. Missing Christmases, Thanksgivings, birthdays...his favorite uncle’s funeral.

That’s all over. Three tours of duty, done and done. I’ve served my country. Now it’s time to settle down and live a life that doesn’t involve bloodshed and explosions.

He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. His face looked thinner, and his hair was longer than he preferred to have it when he was on active duty. It was understandable. He’d spent the last three months in the hospital, recovering from sniper fire. When it was time to be discharged, the date coincidentally fell on his last official day of belonging to the US Army. Since Tuesday, he was a free man, so here he was.

Up ahead was a Sudsy Blast car wash. He surveyed the multitude of bug splatter on his windshield, and impulsively pulled into the drive-through. At the kiosk, he paid for The Works, which included wax and rain shielding, then slowly guided the car onto the blocks.

As of Tuesday, I’m starting clean. I’m wiping the slate. Tomorrow I start job hunting, so I have to put on a good face, and that includes this old clunker. He patted the dashboard. You deserve a fresh start, too, don’t you, old girl?

The sedan jerked as the wheels were locked into place, and began moving slowly forward. Griff sat back in his seat and rolled his head around his shoulders to ease the tightness after driving nonstop from the hospital almost three hundred miles away. He was hungry, he needed something to drink, and he needed to pee.

No more detours after this. Next stop, home.

Mom and Dad were waiting for him. Although they’d offered him to use his old bedroom until he was able to get a job, he’d declined. The Vista del Sol apartment complex was just down the road. Sometime this week he’d go by and check them out. See if they had a one- or two-bedroom available. Most likely they would.

It’s going to be a busy first couple of weeks, finding employment and a place to stay. Despite the hassle, he was looking forward the challenge. It sure beat dodging IEDs any day.

Pink and white soap covered the windshield. Flat pieces of fabric slapped the glass to begin their back and forth dance. The tunnel grew dark as the car was swallowed inside. The satellite station he’d been listening to went silent as the interior of the building blanked out the signal.

The sound of the water rushing around him, and the soft pounding of the brushes, blended into a soothing rhythm. After the flat cloth wipes finished going over his car, more water sprayed across his windshield. Griff closed his eyes, taking the moment to relax as he waited for the vehicle to come to a stop.

The sedan bumped to a halt a moment later. The sound of the car wash faded. He opened his eyes, then blinked. Sitting up, he peered out at the foggy mist surrounding him. Then he checked around him. He was still sitting inside the building, not far from the jet blowers that should have blasted the last drops of water from the exterior.

What the hell?

His first thought was that someone had either accidentally or intentionally shut down the wash. I’ll give it another minute to see if it comes on again. But after another two full minutes, and he remained stranded there, Griff decided to take action.

Carefully, he tried to open the driver’s side door, but it wouldn’t budge. Neither would the locks disengage. Crawling over the center console, he tried to open that door. It was a no go, also. Sighing, he glanced up at the moon roof. Any way out, he muttered, and hit the button to open it.

Nothing.

Surprised, he pressed the button again, but like the car door locks, it was dead.

The vehicle had suffered a total electrical shutdown.

Years of training kicked in, and his survival mode came to the fore. The only way he’d be able to get out of the vehicle would be to smash a window and crawl out. And the only thing I have at hand strong enough to break the glass is my tire iron in the trunk. Which meant climbing into the back, pulling down the seat, and trying to retrieve it that way.

Until his hand encountered his duffle bag.

Griff brightened and jerked the bag toward him. His service pistol was inside, safe and secured. A single bullet would take care of the problem in no time.

Holding up an arm to protect his face, he aimed the weapon at the front windshield and pulled the trigger. There was a loud click!, but no retort. Griff check the pistol to see why it had backfired but didn’t notice anything. He tried again, with the same result.

Well, fuck!

First the car wash, then his car, and now his pistol.

It’s like technology’s been unplugged.

He stared at the interior of the trunk. To get to the tire iron, he’d have to find a way to remove the cover sitting on top of the spare and jack. And, frankly, he couldn’t see how he was going to accomplish that little miracle. He looked again at the weapon in his hand. He’d broken glass out of windows before, back when he was overseas, but usually it was with the butt of a rifle. He’d never tried it with a pistol.

There’s always the first time, he quipped.

Emptying the bullet from the chamber to be on the safe side, he curled his fingers around the barrel and slammed it down hard on the window next to him, aiming for the inside corner instead of the middle. Three solid blows, and he was rewarded with a satisfying crack. He smiled at the small web he’d made, and hit it again. That time, the window turned into crystalline chunks of glass. Using his boot, he kicked at the pieces, punching them out of the frame, until he was able to squeeze out of the car. Reaching back inside, he tossed his weapon back into his duffle bag, zipped the bag closed, and pulled it out of the vehicle to take with him. There was no way of knowing when or if power would come back on in this place. But if it did, he didn’t want to leave his stuff lying around where someone would find it.

Hoisting his things over his shoulder, Griff walked to the end of the car wash and stepped out into a world that no longer existed.

2

Mist

Where the hell did all this fog come from?

Griff gazed out at the thick gray mist that sat all around him. Glancing over at the car wash, he saw the front end of his vehicle still sitting at the end of the tunnel. Behind it, the vacuuming stations and pay kiosk were indistinct, darker shapes, like ghostly sentinels.

He whirled back around and stared up at the sky. The sun was a barely visible ball of light.

What the fuck just happened? he asked himself in disbelief. It was sunshiny not ten minutes ago. Not a cloud in the sky. What just happened?

Not only had the world been enshrouded, but it had gone deathly quiet. Griff strained his ears to hear some kind of sound. Anything. But nothing moved. There was no traffic, even though he knew he was less than a dozen yards from the main street.

Well, if there’s been a major electrical burnout, it might explain why there are no lights or engine noises. But what caused it? What force turned off or negated every motor?

He vaguely recalled hearing something a long time ago about sun spots flaring and disrupting the electrical grids. At the time he’d disregarded it as more hyped bullshit to get the environmentalists all riled up, and give the doomsayers more fuel for their rhetoric.

But maybe this time it’s for real.

He grimaced. If that’s the case, what caused this mist?

Turning around, he surveyed the area. The dollar store he knew was adjacent to the car wash was barely visible. The Gas-N-Go next to it was completely obliterated from view. But the eeriest thing about this whole scenario was the sense of being completely alone.

Hello! Can anyone hear me? Is anyone out there?

He waited. He waited for a full minute, but no one replied. Nothing made a sound. Not even the wind, a bird, nothing.

It was unnerving. Worse, it was starting to amp up his anxiety. His instincts were beginning to scream at him to take cover. To find a weapon. To come up with a plan of action.

And I’m standing out here in the open with nothing to defend myself with.

He peered down the road in the direction of his house. Three more blocks, and he would be safe within his own home, surrounded by his parents, whom he’d protect.

Protect? Against what?

There was something very, very wrong with the present. He felt it in his bones. He knew it was so after years of fighting and intensive training.

First things first. If I’m going to hunker down at the house, I first need to arm myself. He thought about the pistol in his duffle bag, and quickly dismissed it. Until the world corrected itself, and guns were able to fire again, he needed alternative weapons. And Dad has nothing at the house that I can think of that I might be able to use.

Turning on his heel, he began walking toward the dollar store. Surely there was something there to improvise with. If he was lucky, he’d find some gardening tools. If not, there was always a pair of shears. Maybe a baseball bat.

The first thing he noticed when he reached the store’s parking lot was the lack of cars. He paused to stare at the empty tarmac. He distinctly recalled the place being packed. There had to have been at least a dozen cars there. There’s no way all of them left within the space of a couple of minutes. No. Way.

He approached the store, and immediately noticed the interior was pitch black. That makes sense if there’s no electricity. Walking up to the door, another thing became clear, and he halted before banging into the glass. Without power, the doors wouldn’t automatically open.

Looking closer, he tried to spot anyone moving inside, although he already knew what he’d find.

Another fat nothing.

There were no people trapped inside. Just like there were no cars in the parking lot. If there were,