Ashen Winter

By Mike Mullin

It's been over six months since the eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano. Alex and Darla have been staying with Alex’s relatives, trying to cope with the new reality of the primitive world so vividly portrayed in Ashfall, the first book in this series. It's also been six months of waiting for Alex's parents to return from Iowa. Alex and Darla decide they can wait no longer and must retrace their journey into Iowa to find and bring back Alex's parents to the tenuous safety of Illinois. But the landscape they cross is even more perilous than before, with life-and-death battles for food and power between the remaining communities. When the unthinkable happens, Alex must find new reserves of strength and determination to survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tanglewood
• Release date: Oct 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781933718842

Mike Mullin

Mike Mullin first discovered he could make money writing in sixth grade. His teacher, Mrs. Brannon, occasionally paid students for using unusual words. Mike’s first sale as a writer earned 10 cents for one word: tenacious. Since then, Mike has always been involved with literature. One of his early jobs was shelving books at Central Library in Indianapolis. Later, he paid his way through graduate school in part by serving as a reference assistant for Indiana University’s library. Mike has worked in his mother’s business, Kids Ink Children’s Bookstore, for more than twenty years, serving at various times as a store manager, buyer, school and library salesperson, and marketing consultant. Mike wrote his first novel in elementary school—Captain Poopy’s Sewer Adventures. He’s been writing more or less non-stop ever since.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Ten months had passed since I’d last seen the sun. The rich blue of that final August sky was fading from my memory. Colors are slippery: If you cover your eyes and try to remember blue, you see black. Now we had a yellowish gray sky, dark as a heavily overcast day. Darla said Yellowstone’s eruption had hurled billions of tons of fine ash and sulfur dioxide into the stratosphere, and it might be years before the sky returned to normal. I said the dim light was depressing.

In April, we prayed for a break in the winter, a warm spell to melt the four-foot blanket of snow smothering my uncle’s farm. But April was colder than March, May colder still. In June, the mercury in the Farmall tractor thermometer hanging outside the kitchen window fell below zero and stayed there. Every day we watched the thin red line try to claw its way to zero. Every day it failed.

No more snow fell, but none melted, either. We’d run out of Chapstick months before. For a while we all wore my Aunt Caroline’s lipstick, but now that was gone, too, and our lips were cracked and bloody from the dry winter air. The storms that had followed the eruption had spent their fury, and drought clutched us in its dry fist. My world was frozen, desiccated, and dead.

I was always cold. Cold as I worked during the day—cutting wood, hauling snow to melt for water, or digging for the corn buried under the snow and ash. Cold when I went to bed. Cold when I got up in the morning despite Darla snuggled against my side.

Before the volcano, if you’d told me that I’d be sleeping every night beside a girl I loved, I’d have said you were crazy. Mom would’ve filleted me and served the choice bits as hors d’oeuvres if I’d ever so much as closed the door with a girl in my room. Not that any girls would’ve wanted to be alone with me. Before I met Darla, I’d had a total of one real girlfriend, and she dumped me before we’d done much more than make out.

I still didn’t think of myself as having a girlfriend. That word was too trivial for what Darla meant to me. When I met her on the road last year, I was bleeding, starving, and ready to give up. Ready to die. Without each other, we wouldn’t have escaped from Iowa, from the devastation and chaos Yellowstone had caused. Now I wouldn’t want to survive—to endure the desperate labor and daily frostbite—without Darla.

But if Mom showed up now, fillet knife in hand, to scold me for sleeping next to Darla, I’d hug her and savor every second of the scolding. She and Dad had left my uncle’s farm near Warren, Illinois, leaving my younger sister Rebecca there with my aunt and uncle. Darla and I had arrived at the farm in early October, five weeks after my parents had left to look for me. No one had seen or heard from them since.

And Mom wouldn’t find me sleeping alone with Darla, anyway. In April, the falling temperature had forced us to abandon the upstairs bedrooms at my uncle’s. Now Darla and I slept in a clump with my aunt, uncle, two cousins, and sister on the living room floor near the fire. A night spent spooning with your girlfriend isn’t nearly so exciting when your uncle is curled up against your other side.

We got the idea to sleep together from the ducks—they’d been doing it all winter. But a few days after we started imitating them, one of the ducks on the outside of their pile in the barn froze to death. So we cleared everything out of the main floor guest room, adjacent to the living room, and started keeping the ducks and goats inside at night. Our sleep was occasionally interrupted by quacks and bleats. And I never got used to the stench of the billies. Male goats stink worse than skunks.

Earth to Alex, Darla said, drawing my attention back to the barn where we were working. Would the former planet known as Alex please come in?

Former planet? I asked.

Yeah. I demoted you.

Like Pluto? What am I now?

Um, a dwarf planet, I think?

Hey! I’m not that short.

Whatever. Hold this wedge.

I took one of the wooden wedges we’d just cut and held it against the crack between the runner and bedstones of our grain mill. Darla softly tapped the wedge in my hand with a hammer, barely inserting its tip between the stones. I picked up another wedge, and we worked our way around the mill, trying to pry the runner stone free with careful, even pressure.

Darla had built this bicycle-powered gristmill not long after we arrived at the farm. In the bitter cold the night before, the stones had frozen together. Now we were trying to separate them without cracking the runner stone. Replacing it would take more than a week’s labor.

Holding wedges for Darla left a lot of time to think. We were planning a birthday party for my cousin Max that night. He was turning thirteen. Everyone but Aunt Caroline and I had celebrated a birthday since I arrived on the farm. Darla had turned eighteen—two years older than I. Well, really just a year and a half.

While Darla and I worked on the gristmill, Max, Anna, and Rebecca were in the greenhouses caring for our crop of kale. It was worth its weight in gold now—more, actually, since gold was almost worthless. You couldn’t eat gold or build anything useful with it, after all. Kale, by contrast, would grow even if the temperature in the greenhouses got close to freezing. And kale has tons of vitamin C, the only cure for scurvy, which had become an epidemic since the eruption.

When the weather had grown so cold that even the kale started to die, Darla designed a wood-fired heating system for the greenhouses. She found a description of a similar system, a hypocaust, in one of my cousin Anna’s books, Built to Last. It had taken almost a month of back-breaking labor to build. A frozen dirt ramp led down to an enclosed oven-like space where we built a fire every night. A metal door with a small air intake covered the fire shelf. Smoke and hot air from the fire flowed up into a winding series of ducts buried under all three greenhouses, eventually escaping at the far side. That way, the fire heated the ground under our kale without filling the greenhouses with smoke. On the downside, we had to keep the fire outside the greenhouses burning every night.

So we had to cut more wood. Luckily, my uncle’s farm backed up against Apple River Canyon State Park. We never would have cut its trees in normal times, but now we had no choice.

That’s where Uncle Paul and Aunt Caroline had gone that day—to the edge of the leafless forest to cut firewood. Darla said they were going out there to get some alone time, but that didn’t seem likely to me. It was way too cold to expose any more skin than you absolutely had to.

A crack of gunfire brought me crashing back to earth.

Darla froze and locked eyes with me. Then we heard Anna scream.

Darla dropped her hammer, and we dashed to the side door of the barn—the one that faced the greenhouses. I eased it ajar and peered out.

Four men wearing ski masks and ragged forest camouflage were clustered around the door to one of our greenhouses. Max lay face down, a wide arc of blood staining the snow beside him. One of the men was prodding Max with his toe, his handgun trained on Max’s head. A man wearing a bright blue scarf had Anna on the ground, his knee in the small of her back. He was tying a gag around her head. The third seemed to be supervising everything—holding a shotgun at the ready. The last had a machine pistol trained on Rebecca. Even from a distance, I could see her shaking.

I held my clenched fists against my roiling stomach, as if to hold it in, to hold myself together. Max. Was he dead? He wasn’t moving.

I’m going for help, Darla said, and she was gone, racing for the main barn door, which faced away from the greenhouses.

Get it together, Alex, I told myself. Darla’s getting help. Maybe there’s something you can do in the meantime.

The bandits were preoccupied with their task—none of them were looking my way. I opened the side door wider, dropped to my belly, and slithered through. Immediately I wormed off the trodden path into the deep snow. The snow slowed me down, but it also hid me.

When I thought I was close, I cautiously raised my head above the level of the snow. The bandits had a homemade toboggan, laden with lumpy canvas bags. They’d gagged and bound Anna and Rebecca, stacking them on the toboggan like cordwood. Machine Pistol was leaving one of the greenhouses with a plastic sack overflowing with kale. He’d harvested it so fast that he’d pulled up the roots. Blue Scarf stepped over to Max’s body, hefted it, and tossed it on top of the load. Blood pulsed from Max’s temple.

I blinked repeatedly, but my eyelids couldn’t clear the gruesome scene. My body was coiled tight, caught on a knife edge between two fears: I needed to help Max, to see if he was even alive, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t approach the sled without being seen.

The four bandits grabbed a knotted rope and started hauling the toboggan away. Max’s blood drew an erratic pink streak in the snow. I couldn’t let them abduct my sister and cousins. Rebecca was the only family I had left. I’d rather die than lie there in the snow and watch her being taken. I had a black belt in taekwondo. I’d been forced to use it during my flight from Iowa last year. But trying to fight four of them at once? Suicide.

Suddenly it struck me: All I had to do was slow them down until Darla came with help. If I could get them to talk . . . I stood up. Stop! I shouted.

All four of them turned. Three gun barrels swiveled toward me. I sent fruitless orders to my knees to be still.

Leave the girls. Take me instead. I was relieved my voice didn’t quaver. Much.

Handgun stalked toward me until he was less than thirty feet away. His mouth twisted in a cruel leer, and he raised his gun, aiming at my head.

Chapter 2

I was dead. He was too far away for me to rush him, too close for the bullet to miss. Trying to talk was a stupid idea—the last stupid decision I’d get to make.

A gun barked. Handgun was thrown sideways, arms splayed, as blood bloomed at the side of his chest. I glanced left. Darla was about 100 feet off, kneeling in the snow, her eye sighting down the length of Uncle Paul’s hunting rifle.

Shotgun raised his weapon, business end pointed at me. Max, whom I’d feared was dead, punched at the bandit, aiming for his groin. He missed, hitting Shotgun in the hip. The gun wavered and boomed. My side felt like it had been stung by a dozen angry hornets, though most of the pellets flew wide, peppering the snow beside me.

Another rifle shot rang out. The bullet caught Shotgun square in the chest and threw him backward against the toboggan.

I was running forward without ever having made a conscious decision to charge. I had to get to Machine Pistol before he started spraying bullets everywhere.

Blue Scarf turned and ran. Machine Pistol hesitated, then stepped backward and raised his gun at me. Darla shot again but missed. I put everything I had into my insane charge, screaming at the top of my lungs. Maybe he’d just shoot me instead of spraying Max and the girls.

Instead, he lowered his gun and fled.

Darla fired again. Machine Pistol stumbled, but collected himself and kept running.

I staggered to Max, my body trembling with fear and adrenaline. A bullet had carved a narrow trough along his temple. Blood soaked the side of his hat, scarves, and coat.

Get the hell out of my field of fire! Darla screamed.

I ducked, hoping she could fire past both of us. Bright red blood poured from Max’s head, gushing in time with his heartbeat. I hesitated a moment, unsure what to do. A year ago I would have screamed for help and called 911. Now nobody but Darla would hear me scream. The phone wouldn’t work, and even if it did, there was no one to answer it.

I knew how to stop the bleeding—put a clean cloth over it and apply pressure. But what if his skull were cracked? Wouldn’t pushing on it make it worse, maybe kill him?

I stripped off my gloves and started probing the wound as gently as I could with my fingertips. Max moaned. He was shaking and sweating despite the cold. My hands dripped blood.

Darla was alongside the sled now, kneeling in the snow and firing at the fleeing bandits.

Max’s temple was firm under my fingertips—which I hoped meant his skull wasn’t broken. I ripped off one of my scarves and pressed it against his head.

They’re in the south hollow, running like wild rabbits, Darla said as she lifted the rifle and stood. She took the knife off her belt and started cutting Rebecca and Anna free.

This wound is going to have to be sewn up, I told her.

I can do it, Darla said—she’d stitched up a vicious wound in my side last year.

I think we should get Dr. McCarthy. What if he’s got a concussion or a break I didn’t find?

Okay, she replied.

Rebecca? I asked. You okay? She didn’t look okay. She was trembling and rubbing her wrists.

Not really, she said. What should I do?

Can you run to the woods and get Aunt Caroline and Uncle Paul?

She took a deep breath. I’ll be right back. She took two tentative steps toward the house, and then changed direction, sprinting for the woods.

Max’s blood had already soaked through my scarf. Darla handed me one of hers, and I wrapped it around his head as tightly as I could.

Anna was crouched with her hands covering her inner thighs. I saw a spot of wetness around one of her hands.

Anna, I said softly. It’s okay. I peed myself the first time I met bandits last year.

You did?

Yeah, I did. It wasn’t true. I’d thrown up. But I needed Anna’s help. Can you take care of your brother while Darla and I get Dr. McCarthy?

Anna nodded.

Your mom and dad will be back soon. Tell them we’ve gone to get the doctor, and we’ll be right back, okay?

She nodded again. I tied the second scarf around Max’s head, and we carried him into the house and laid him on the floor by the living room fireplace. I grabbed a couple of spare scarves while Darla told Anna how to care for Max. As we ran toward the barn, I passed one scarf to Darla and wrapped the other one around my neck. It was one of Aunt Caroline’s—bright orange-red and not particularly warm. Better than nothing. We threw open the barn doors and dragged out Bikezilla.

That’s what I’d dubbed Darla’s snowmobile. She’d built it not long after she finished the gristmill. The snowmobile was a tandem bike frame with a ski attached to the front fork where the tire had been. Darla had scavenged a track off a real snowmobile and installed it in place of the bicycle’s rear wheel. Above that she built a small wooden load bed, almost like a pickup truck’s.

A real snowmobile would have been a lot faster, but we couldn’t get gas. The meager amount still stored in the tanks at Warren’s only gas station was reserved for emergencies.

We’d been using Bikezilla for the last six months to haul kale to Warren to trade for pork. Warren had thousands of frozen hog carcasses stored, since there were several slaughterhouses nearby. Bikezilla wasn’t as fast as a real bicycle, but it could handle deep snow okay, and the load bed could carry plenty of pork. On the icy road to Warren, it was at least twice as fast as running.

Darla and I stood up on the bike for the whole trip, kicking the pedals down. We had no extra breath for talking. My side hurt where the shotgun pellets had hit, and I felt a warm spot of blood soaking into my T-shirt. I gritted my teeth and ignored it.

Darla and I slid up to the clinic, beating our previous best time to Warren by five or six minutes. I could tell Dr. McCarthy was in because I saw his ’41 Studebaker Champion parked around back.

We charged into the small, one-story clinic. Dr. McCarthy was in an exam room, chatting with a patient by the light of an oil lamp. When I told him what was wrong, he got his assistant to take over. You want to ride along? he asked.

No, I said. We’ll ride back. I don’t want to leave Bikezilla. I didn’t think it would get stolen in Warren, but I didn’t want to take that chance, either.

By the time we got back to the farm, Dr. McCarthy was almost done stitching up Max. Aunt Caroline was assisting him. The injured side of Max’s head had been shaved. He was biting down on a leather-wrapped stick, since Dr. McCarthy had run out of painkillers months ago. I wondered if it was the same stick that Uncle Paul had bitten when Dr. McCarthy had set his broken leg the year before. The leather was scarred by dozens of bite marks.

He okay? I asked.

Seems to be, Aunt Caroline answered. Dr. McCarthy was concentrating on his stitches. He might be concussed. Although with Max, how would you know if his brains were scrambled? She was smiling as she said it, but unbidden tears spilled from her eyes.

Maybe instead of scrambling his brains the bullet knocked them back into working order, I said.

I’m still here, Max grunted through clenched teeth.

I know you are, honey. The gratitude in Aunt Caroline’s voice was palpable.

A leather-wrapped stick is a pretty crappy birthday present, I said.

Max grunted. I couldn’t tell if he was agreeing or just annoyed at my lame joke.

Aunt Caroline broke the short silence. Max said you just walked up to those bandits, Alex.

Pretty much.

That was stupid.

Yeah. But I knew Darla was getting help. I’m just lucky she decided to get the rifle instead of going to get you guys.

Dr. McCarthy tied off the last stitch in Max’s head.

Hey, Doc, can you take a look at my side? I asked.

What’s wrong with your side? Darla said.

Well, that shotgun—

You got hit? And you didn’t tell me? She was practically yelling.

I thought you could tell from the holes in my coat.

Shut up. Your clothing’s so ragged nobody’d notice a few extra holes. And we rode all the way to—lie down on that couch right now, you jerk!

I obeyed. When Darla was that angry, doing anything else was insane.

She started stripping my clothing, muttering all the while, Stupid, pigheaded, obstinate, obnoxious, oviparous, egg-sucking boy. I both laid and sucked eggs? That didn’t make sense. Whatever.

Most of the shotgun pellets hadn’t penetrated my five layers of clothing. I had eight or nine purplish bruises and three blood-encrusted holes on the side of my belly. All three holes were below the huge, horseshoe-shaped scar where Darla had stitched up the hatchet wound a prison escapee named Target had inflicted on me the year before.

What, are you collecting scars on that side of your body? Darla said.

I guess.

Well, quit. The spot I stitched up is enough.

That’s a pretty rough-looking patch job, Dr. McCarthy commented.

Darla scowled. Like to see you do better with an old sewing needle.

I probably couldn’t. Dr. McCarthy took the leather-wrapped stick from Max, wiped it on a cloth, and gave it to me to bite. He dropped a scalpel and scissor-like pair of tongs he called a hemostat into a pan of water boiling over the living room fire. While we waited for his tools to be sterilized, he gently wiped away the dried blood on my side.

When he slit the side of the first wound, it didn’t hurt much. But then he started digging around in the hole. Tears leaked from my eyes. When he got the hemostat clamped on the pellet and pulled it free, I just about launched off the couch to slug him. Darla grabbed my hand, and I clung to her, trying not to move. Then we had to repeat the whole procedure. Twice.

Dr. McCarthy didn’t stitch up the holes. He just put a bandage over them and taped it in place. Guess you all get a bulk discount today.

I guess. Aunt Caroline sighed. I’ll get you some supplies.

Got any eggs?

A few. Some goat meat, too. Aunt Caroline stood up.

Where’s everybody else? Darla asked.

Out by the greenhouses, Aunt Caroline answered.

I’ll go see if Paul needs help, Darla said.

Let me get dressed, I said. I’ll come, too.

You need to rest, Darla said.

If I can bike all the way to Warren with three shotgun pellets in my side, I can walk to the greenhouses without them.

Tell him to rest, would you please? Darla begged Dr. McCarthy.

He won’t listen to me, anyway. Just stay with him and don’t let him do any heavy lifting for a couple days.

Darla scowled, but she got a clean T-shirt out of a basket in the corner of the room and tossed it at me.

As we approached the greenhouses, I saw Rebecca’s and Anna’s silhouettes moving around inside. Uncle Paul was bent over the toboggan, sorting through the bandits’ supplies.

Did you find the shotgun? I asked.

Shotgun? Uncle Paul said. One of them had a little .22 pistol in his hand.

I pointed at the other corpse lying in the snow. He had a shotgun. I walked over to the body. A huge red stain had spread from the hole in the guy’s chest to the surrounding snow, and the blood had already started to freeze. I looked around. Sure enough, there was a long depression in a snowdrift on the far side of the toboggan. The shotgun must have flown out of his hands and buried itself in the snow when Darla shot him.

I pulled the shotgun free and wiped the snow off it with my shirttail. Someone had painted four tiny blue flowers on the wooden stock. They seemed incongruous—too delicate to decorate a weapon of war. Amid the flowers, two words were drawn in fancy script: Blue Betsy.

Weird, I said to Darla. Who decorates their shotgun with flowers?

Darla shrugged.

Decorates? With flowers? Uncle Paul said. Blue flowers? Let me see.

I passed the shotgun to him.

How did—

What is it?

Remember I told you I traded a pair of goats for a shotgun and gave it to your dad? And he took it with him when he left here last year?

Yeah . . .? I said.

This is it, Alex. The shotgun he took when he left for Iowa last fall. When he went to search for you.

Chapter 3

I collapsed into the snowbank. Not a good idea when it’s below zero. But I didn’t notice the cold—I was too numb.

You okay? Uncle Paul asked.

I guess, I said.

Give us a minute, Darla said as she sat down in the snow beside me.

Uncle Paul nodded. I’m going to help Rebecca and Anna replant the kale those bastards pulled up, he mumbled as he shuffled off.

Darla turned to me. You okay?

What does it mean? Is Dad dead? Why else would this guy have his shotgun? I punched at a clump of snow.

I don’t know.

Maybe Dad sold it. Or traded it for something. He could be alive, right?

Yeah, he could.

We sat in silence.

After a while, Darla asked, Why’d you stand up in front of those guys?

I was trying to talk to them. To delay them. In the rush to take care of Max and get Dr. McCarthy, I hadn’t really thought about the fight. You saved my life again.

Yeah, what’s that now, forty-seven times? Darla shrugged.

About.

You have a serious talent for needing to be saved.

I guess. Thanks.

Trying to talk to those guys was stupid. I wasn’t ready to shoot yet.

I couldn’t let them walk off with the kids. And you got ready in time.

Darla grabbed my collar, pulling me closer and yelling in my face. Yeah, but Christ, you scared me! What if I’d missed? You do anything that idiotic again and I’ll shoot you myself to save the heartache of watching someone else do it.

Sorry. I really hadn’t been thinking too clearly. Obviously. But still . . .

And I still don’t get why the guy with the machine pistol didn’t perforate your sad hide.

He was unnerved by my crazy taekwondo charge? I forced a smile.

Darla glared. You have a death wish or something?

No. Crappy as this world is, I don’t want to leave it. I reached out and squeezed her hand. Don’t want to leave you.

Suddenly she rolled on top of me, yanking our scarves out of the way and kissing me. Darla pressed her body into mine, burying me in the snow. Her weight, slight though it was, hurt my side. I ignored the pain, wrapping my arms around her and trying to keep up. The kiss lasted for a dizzying minute. When she came up for air, she said, Don’t you ever do something like that again.

If it means I get another kiss like that, I might.

Darla slugged my shoulder, hard enough to bruise.

Got it, I said. Shouldn’t we be helping Uncle Paul?

Darla stood, offered me her hand, and pulled me up. We made our way through the two plastic doors that formed an airlock for the greenhouse. It was relatively warm in there, which was good—I was freezing after being half-buried in snow by Darla.

Most of the kale had come out of the soft, moist greenhouse soil with its roots intact, so we could replant it. When we found a plant with badly damaged roots, we harvested the leaves, saving the stems and roots for the goats.

Will the kale regrow? I asked Uncle Paul as the five of us walked back toward the house.

I think most of it will be okay. He laid a hand on my shoulder. You sure you’re okay?

Yeah. I thought for a moment, picking my next words carefully. I’m going to leave. To look for Mom and Dad. I glanced at Darla and was relieved to see her nod.

How will you find them? Uncle Paul asked.

I’ll track down the two bandits who got away.

They aren’t going to volunteer the info you want just because you ask them to, Uncle Paul said.

We’ll bring guns, Darla replied dryly. Those are pretty convincing.

There was a long pause in the conversation as we approached the house. Eventually Uncle Paul nodded. I’ll start sorting out supplies for you. You’ll want to get moving at first light so they don’t get too far ahead.

I held the storm door for my uncle and Darla. Maybe we should leave now?

Better if you get a good night’s sleep. They won’t be traveling tonight either—their torches are still on the toboggan.

The scene inside the house was positively tranquil after all the craziness of that day. Dr. McCarthy was gone. Aunt Caroline was sitting on the floor beside Max, holding a cup of water to his lips while Rebecca stirred a bowl of corn porridge.

What’s this about traveling? Aunt Caroline said to Uncle Paul.

How’s Max? Uncle Paul asked.

He’s fine. Tell me what you’re talking about.

Alex and Darla are leaving in the morning. Uncle Paul frowned. One of those bandits had Blue Betsy.

What? No. Aunt Caroline sloshed water across Max’s face, and he spluttered. There’s no way we can keep up with all the work without Alex and Darla. And what if we get attacked again? What if they attack the house next time?

We’ll have to manage, Uncle Paul replied. We can board up all the windows on the ground floor, put bars on the doors, too.

Your leg isn’t completely healed from the fall and—

I’ve been off the crutches for more than a month, hon, Uncle Paul said, clearly exasperated.

I know, but you’re still limping.

Not much. The muscles are weak, that’s all. It’s getting better.

They’re still kids. We can’t let them go running around in this mess—they’ll get killed.

I’m eighteen. Darla folded her arms over her chest. And Alex isn’t a kid anymore, whatever his age.

Why do you guys keep talking about Alex and Darla? Rebecca said. I’m going, too. She folded her arms, mimicking Darla so closely that it might have been funny except for her grim expression.

Rebecca, no. I said, as gently as I could manage.

She turned on me. You think it was fun, waiting for you last year? Thinking you were dead? And then Mom and Dad left, and I thought I’d lost everyone, my whole family, gone. I’m not going through that again.

I know it’s hard, I said, but Aunt Caroline is right—she and Uncle Paul need help. Darla and I wouldn’t be leaving now except for that shotgun.

Darla can stay. They’re not her parents.

I’m going, Darla said flatly.

Then I am, too, Rebecca said, although she sounded far less certain than Darla.

I shook my head, scowling. I understood how she felt—I didn’t like being treated like a kid, and really, none of us were kids anymore. We spent our time struggling to survive, not going to school or playing games. But if she got hurt—or God forbid, killed—looking for our parents, I’d never forgive myself.

Rebecca looked down and whispered, I . . . don’t want to be alone again.

I know. I pulled her into a hug. But you won’t be alone. You’ll take care of Max and Anna. And help your aunt and uncle.

Yeah, she murmured, holding onto me. But you better come back.

You and Darla had best get some sleep, Uncle Paul said. Caroline and I will get your packs ready. I’ll wake you before dawn.

I let go of Rebecca, and Darla took my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen. Let’s get washed up.

That night, I lay awake in bed for more than an hour. Darla was on one side of me; Rebecca, Max, and Anna on the other. My aunt and uncle still hadn’t come to bed. The kids called out or moaned occasionally in their sleep—nightmares, I assumed.

From her breathing, I could tell Darla wasn’t sleeping, either. I put an arm over her shoulder and hugged her closer. You okay? I whispered.

Her body heaved and she choked back a sob.

It’s okay, I whispered. Shh. You don’t have to be tough all the time.

I . . . I never killed anyone before.

I know. I stroked her back.

It’s not like killing a rabbit or pig.

No.

Does it get better?

I thought about Ferret and Target—bandits I’d killed during our escape from Iowa last year. They still occasionally starred in my own nightmares. No.

Darla snuggled against my shoulder. I couldn’t hear her crying, but I felt the tears washing my neck. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

My side ached and my thoughts raced. I stared into the darkness, thinking about my trip from Cedar Falls last year, about all the people who’d helped me during my journey.

My thoughts turned to Mom and Dad. I couldn’t call up a clear picture of either of them. I mean, I knew what they looked like, but the images were blurry. I lay awake, struggling to remember my parents’ faces until Uncle Paul called to me in the grayness just before dawn.

Chapter 4

We ate a huge breakfast. Duck eggs scrambled with kale from our farm and ham we’d gotten in trade from Warren. Everyone was silent, like they had so much to say, they couldn’t decide where to start. It made me uncomfortable, so I wolfed my food and excused myself.

Bikezilla’s load bed was packed with bags and bundles. Darla untied the ropes holding down the load and started poking through it.

I packed everything you’ll need, Uncle Paul said.

Doesn’t hurt to check, Darla replied.

The pistol and the shotgun, Blue Betsy, were there along with a box of shells. I was a little surprised. That gun, with the extra ammo, was worth a fortune. People everywhere were hoarding weapons, so their value had skyrocketed since the eruption. By now, the shotgun and shells were probably worth as much as a small herd of goats or a flock of egg-laying ducks.

The shotgun wasn’t the most valuable thing Uncle Paul had given us, though. Twenty small envelopes made from pages of an old Dan Brown novel were tucked into a cloth pouch. Each envelope contained two hundred carefully counted kale seeds. One packet like these had been enough to buy the snowmobile, tandem bike, and a welding rig in Warren. If, before the eruption, someone had handed me a briefcase stuffed with hundred-dollar bills, it would have been about this valuable.

I stared at the bundle, shocked into silence.

Darla tilted her head toward Uncle Paul. You sure?

He nodded. I saved enough for a safety margin. And we’ll let a third of the next crop go to seed. We’ll be okay.

"I don’t know what to

Reviews for Ashen Winter

[tripsis_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

booknook — Young Adult book reviewsRight off the bat, it's obvious that I'm not rating Ashen Winter as high as Ashfall. Ashen Winter was a fascinating story that once again really dives into disaster and humanity (or lack thereof), but at the end of the day, I don't feel like the book was much different from Ashfall.In Ashfall we have Alex trekking across the country to find his family. There's devastation, brutality, gangs, and strange "refugee" camps. In Ashen Winter we have Alex trekking across the country to find his family. There's devastation, brutality, gangs, and strange "refugee" camps. I hope you noticed the repetition there. :P Although it was still an interesting book, I just don't feel like Ashen Winter brought much new content to the table. I didn't really learn any more about how the weather is doing or what's going on with the government. We do learn a bit more about the gangs and see them in more detail, but those are really just interesting filler bits. Ashen Winter lacks a strong, overarching plot progression.Furthermore, I felt like in some ways, the book was a little anti-climactic. It's hard to go into detail without spoiling the story. Basically the book revolves around Alex searching for his parents. But when he finally finds them, I feel like they weren't what I was expecting.Although I wasn't totally crazy about Ashen Winter, it did have its high points. We have some really interesting new characters including Ben, an insanely intelligent—but autistic—character. His sister, Alyssa, was less interesting. In fact, her complete disrespect for Alex's relationship really put me off. Where Ashen Winter really shines is in how it portrays the loss of humanity. Obviously this was a big point in Ashfall as well, but it's even more significant in Ashen Winter. We get a wider look at gangs, slavery, and even cannibalism.Ashen Winter didn't quite live up to my expectations, and it was an insanely long book (which made it a little difficult for me to get through), but it was still an interesting read. It's clear just how much research Mike Mullin has put into this series and I applaud him for that!

[bettesbooks · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Post-apocalyptic drama, romance and hopeImmediately upon finishing this 2nd part of the trilogy I was compelled to begin book 3. No sleep for me!

[librarycin · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Possible spoilers for book 1 in the series: 16-year old Alex and Darla have been living with Alex’s uncle and his family (and Alex’s sister) for a while now, after he found them after the volcano left the MidWest covered in ash and in seemingly perpetual winter. But, where are Alex’s parents? Despite the dangers, Alex insists on heading out to find his parents, and Darla won’t let him go alone. And it is dangerous with people out there hunting other people (to eat, to sell…).

I really liked this. It got going quickly, and kept up the pace throughout. I liked the two new characters, Alyssa and Ben.

[a9shelf9apart · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book was the worst in the series for me. Alex has found his uncle’s farm, where his parents should have been, but they’ve already left to find Alex. His sister is there and safe, and his extended family are growing kale and surviving (scurvy, my favourite maritime ailment, is a big threat in this new freezing world). So Alex and Darla set out to find his parents. Alex didn’t have any good memories of his family in the previous book, and he still doesn’t. And now we’re retracing ground we already covered in the first book and all I want to know is why? Why is Alex risking his life and Darla’s for these people he barely thinks about? And when he does, his thoughts are of fighting with his mother? No human connection. Just the assumption that “because parents” is enough to push the plot along.

You know what else pushes the plot of the second book along? Alex’s stupidity. My lord. This boy is stupid. Insisting on trying to steal grain from a heavily guarded stockpile? Check. Not figuring out the guard numbers or patterns before charging in? Check. Then, THEN he breaks into the garage in a town held by a band of cannibals, takes a hostage, can’t figure out how to get out so he just… falls asleep. And wakes up surrounded by cannibals. What the fuck, dude. Then he escapes by hanging off a truck that’s travelling a short distance (Alex knows this) to a nearby town. Alex’s bag gets torn so even though he knows he’ll soon be arriving in a new cannibal town and will need to figure out how to get out of the truck, he sits down to do some sewing repairs on his backpack and gets taken by surprise when the truck pulls into town. He’s so goddamn stupid this book was like beating my head into a brick wall.

And every time his stupidity gets him caught he loses more incredibly valuable supplies.

After Ashen Winter I thought I was done. My library card expired so I couldn’t immediately borrow the third book, and I felt a sense of dread when I contemplated another ride along with Alex’s stupidity. That was enough, I thought. No more Ashfall.

Y’all know what I did though, right?

Waited a couple of months for my dislike of this bland author and bland protagonist to fade, borrowed Sunrise, and waded right back in to get hurt again.

[edensteffey · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Realistic

Good second book in the series. It seemed plausible and you root for the characters even Thor they are not perfect.

[thetreereader · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Mike Mullin is a genius. Ashfall was the best book I read in 2011 and I couldn’t wait for Ashen Winter. So needless to say I was super excited when I got the chance to read it last year.

Going into it I was a little worried I would be disappointed since I loved the first book so much, but in the end I had nothing to worry about. Ashen Winter is amazing. The writing, the plot, and the characters were all just as incredible in this one as they were in the first book. However there were a couple of times that I found it predictable but I was still happy. The predictability didn’t take anything away from the story. Ashen Winter had me smiling and laughing out loud at times, and other times I wanted to scream and pull my hair out.

If you haven’t read Ashfall, please go pick it up and get Ashen Winter while you are at it because these books are the best.

[jothebookgirl · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Ashen Winter by Mike Mullin
follow up to Ashfall

It is a struggle to survive the volcanic winter that follows the eruption of Yellowstone. Alex and Darla have to struggle even harder when they learn of the possible whereabouts of Alex's parents. He and Darla set off to find them, which results in Darla being shot and inadvertently kidnapped by a cannibalistic group.
Now Alex has to figure out a way to find his parents while still finding Darla before she is forced to endure too much.


Love, love, loved this book. I'm a fan of Mullin and Alex and Darla. This is a boy-narrated disaster story that girls will enjoy too. Darla is a great female character: smart, practical and mechanically inclined.

Warning: I'd probably keep this one in high school due to a couple of "intimate" moments. Nothing too racy though.

[maydacat_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In this middle tale of the Ashfall Trilogy, it’s been several months since the devastating ashfall from the supervolcano that ruined civilization. Alex is desperate to find his parents, and so he and Darla decide to brave the uncertainties of travel in this new life and search for Alex’s parents. But the peril they face is not only the lack of shelter and food; the greater danger lies in the criminal element who kill for food and the things necessary to survive. Like the first novel, this one also contains violence and viciousness. The characters are well developed, and the author truly gives you a sense of the struggle to survive.

[empressreece · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Kale, Corn Pone & Dandelion Greens...

Sound yummy?! Not to me either but that's about the extent of their daily diet after the supervolcano eruption, that is unless you're a Flenser aka a Cannibal. : ) I would have to pass on that too!

One of the things though I like about this series is how in-depth the author gets with their survival tactics & resourcefulness. They've built everything from a grinding mill and greenhouses to a bike with skis to traverse the snow and ash and a truck that runs off of propane. They build everything with whatever supplies they have on hand or can scrounge up. Never in a million years would I be able to come up with some of the ideas they do so if I had to survive through a volcanic winter I would definitely want to do it with this group, not the Flensers of course : ) but with the main characters, Alex and Darla.

There's a never a dull moment in this series and they're always on the move from city to city getting into something which is fun. I like the changes of scenery. The author also introduced a character with autism. His name is Ben and I absolutely loved him! He was my favorite character in this second book so I hope to see more of him in the next one.

[jennyjen-1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Not gonna finish this. I know this. Ah, well. It shouldn't have sucked so bad.

[ecataldi-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I thought the first book in the trilogy was fast paced, boy was I wrong! The action in "Ashen Winter" never lets up. Just when you think they've finally made it, something insane and awful happens and you have to keep reading! There is no break! Which is fine by me because this makes the story whiz by.

Almost half a year after Yellowstone erupted and pretty much destroyed North America, Alex and Dara decide to leave the relative safety of his Uncle's farm to try and find Alex's parents. The second they hit the road, all hell breaks loose. There's bandits, flensers (cannibals), horrible FEMA officers, and gangs of desperate starving people who will stop at nothing to survive. Alex and Dara have to not only fight and outsmart these people, but survive the hellish winter they're in. Is it even worth surviving in this world? And if so who is worth dying for?

Another fantastic addition to Mike Mullin's work. I cannot wait to read the conclusion!

For fans of dystopias, fight for survivals, and young adult literature.

[theeccentriclady · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I decided to wait for winter to read the 2nd book in Mike’s trilogy “Ashen Winter” to give it the full effect. I didn’t plan on it being the coldest and snowiest winter in years! It sure did add to the reality of the book. Sometimes when I would stop for the night it was hard not to feel I was living in the post volcanic world. This says a lot for the writing of Mr. Mullin. This book is action packed from start to finish and leaves you little time to take a breath. I am looking forward to the release of the 3rd book “Sunrise” this March and the title seems to suggest the timing of the season will be a good time to start it. Counting the days to purchase my book and start reading!

[angelina0justice · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Not surprisingly, I loved this book as much as the first. The action was non-stop, but the reality of such a possible scenario was firmly grounded. This is a strong follow-up to the first novel and begs for more of the same spectacular writing from Mike Mullin.

[seldombites · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In Ashen Winter we return to an America changed by a natural disaster on a massive scale. As hunger and famine set in, the baser side of human nature sets in. After a raid on the farm that gives Alex cause for concern over his parents fate, he and Darla set forth in an attempt to find them.

But the world has changed, even compared to their earlier journey through the countryside. This time, the two of them face challenges such as cannibals, slave-traders and the ever present danger of FEMA patrols.

This book wasn't quite as good as Ashfall, but I can't really place my finger on why that is. Nevertheless, it was still an awesome read and I am really looking forward to getting hold of Sunrise, the final book in the trilogy.

[tjsjohanna_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Like many good sequels, this one opens up the scope of the story - there are new characters and a better overall picture of what is occurring out beyond the story of Alex and Darla. This book does make me wonder just what our world would be like if some disaster were to occur.

[edspicer_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I liked the book because it was realistic and that it really could happen. This book is thrilling, romantic, and dangerous. 4/5 ADR (10th grader) I selected this book because I loved the first one and i have come to realize that the second is phenomenal too! AG

[deltaqueen50 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Even though I absolutely loved the first book in the trilogy, this second book, Ashen Winter by Mike Mullen, just didn’t quite work for me. I found that the book consisted of a series of action sequences with very little plot or character development. I am hoping for more from the third entry.

In this volume, Alex and Darla leave the relative safety of his uncles’ farm in order to try and find Alex’s parents. Unfortunately, things are pretty hairy out in the real world and the two young people get involved in a battle between a rural town and a party of cannibalistic bandits called Peckerwoods. During the battle, Darla gets wounded and falls into the enemies hands. The rest of the book consists of Alex trying to get Darla back, and even his finding and rescuing his parents is secondary to his quest to save Darla.

There were a few good things about this book, first off it is still a real page turner, with the characters getting into trouble at the end of just about every chapter, there is plenty of motivation to keep turning those pages. I also appreciate the depth of maturity and the reliability of Alex and Darla’s relationship. These two are committed to each other and after what they have lived through this makes sense. I am hoping that the third volume will advance this story and offer some hope for the future of these young people.

[justablondemoment · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Wow...just ...Wow. I am following this series like a puppy follows a ball that's been tossed.This not a series you can read out of order and the 1st book is equally exciting so you wouldn't want to miss out on it anyways. I still feel like there are some repetition issues.Sometimes I would read something and I'd be like..I know this, you already told me that just in different words a few chapters back or maybe it's just that the book was predictable at those times maybe it's just me. But even with that little annoyance this series is a winner. If you have not started it do so now.

[themadhatters_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Alex and Darla have survived for months on Uncle Paul's farm, but when bandits attack them and seem to have information about Alex's parents, he's determined to travel back to Iowa to find them. Darla and Alex's journey back is even more perilous this time around, with gangs of cannibals and overzealous government contractors staking out every road. I really liked the sequel to "Ashfall," but the situations that Alex and Darla get themselves into felt less believable to me this time around. Mullin is not afraid to get graphic in his description of violence and sometimes it can be a bit too much. Overall, this is still a highly entertaining and suspenseful book.

[a_reader_of_fictions · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Originally reviewed on A Reader of Fictions.

Ashen Winter is massive for a YA book, but don't let that put you off of reading this series. The 570 pages go by very quickly. I read most of this in just one evening. Mullin's book is jam-packed with action, explosions, cannibals, fighting and car chases. If you liked Ashfall, you will love Ashen Winter for its even colder vision of the future.

The thing that I love most about this series is Darla. She is straight up awesome. I also love that she was written by a male author. Alex is strong and does a lot of cool stunts in Ashen Winter, but he knows that his girlfriend is stronger and more capable than he is. And he loves it. You know I love a powerful heroine, and I love even more when people respect her for that strength.

Of course, this brings me to my second point: if I were Darla, I would have dropped Alex's ass so fast. The boy is like a magnet for destruction. He has all the worst plans. You can pretty much assume that anything that he has he will either give away or lose before he hardly gets to do anything with it. Except for his physical capabilities, the boy has no damn survival skills. Worse, he reacts entirely on instinct, without considering the inevitable consequences. People you don't know about to be attacked and you don't have weapons? Clearly you should step in. This could not possibly end poorly. Oh wait, yes it will, every single time. The journey is pretty much detour after detour as Alex continually makes the wrong choices.

One of the most monumental logic fails is the basic premise for Ashen Winter. In case you don't remember, at the end of Ashfall Darla and Alex finally made it to his Uncle's farm in Warren, only to discover that his parents' had set out to search for him. Bandits attack the farm and happen to have the gun Alex's dad was using. Thus, Alex decides that he simply must go hunt for his parents. This irritated me so much, because going to find people was what got us into this situation in the first place. Had his parents not gone searching for him, they would all be together now. The parents know where Warren is, and you don't know for sure where they are, so STAY PUT.

Despite my issue with Alex and his (lack of) reasoning, I really enjoyed reading Ashfall from beginning to end. Mullin's world building continues to be excellent and make me sincerely hope something like this doesn't happen (at least in my lifetime). Cannibalism has increased. Not only that, but as towns that were previously friendly run increasingly low on food, they begin to attack other towns. It's a person eat person world out there.

Adding some spice to Ashen Winter are a host of new characters. Although initially skeptical, I came to really appreciate Alyssa, who could have been a terrible stereotypical slut-shaming character. I hope to see her really develop in the next book. I also really enjoyed Ben, Alyssa's autistic and strategically brilliant brother. There are a couple of other folks that turn out to be surprisingly interesting, but I'll leave those for you to find and enjoy.

Readers that like their dystopias full of action will not want to miss out on Mullin's Ashfall Trilogy. I highly recommend this series to those who enjoy David MacInnis Gill's Black Hole Sun.

[melissarochelle_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ashfall set a pretty high standard and Ashen Winter is just a little under the bar -- but not much. You know why I didn't LOVE it as much? There wasn't enough Darla.

Other than that, great read. These books really show you the bad side of people -- the do anything to stay alive and throwing away all humanity side -- but also the good in people.

While this one isn't quite as great as the first, it's still a fantastic series (SUPERVOLCANO, GUYS!). I can't wait to see the skies clear a bit for them in the next book -- I mean, it has to right? A volcanic winter wouldn't last forever, would it? And rumor has it the next book is Sunrise. That sounds hopeful to me.

Progress
01/27 page 576 100.0% "Fantastic series."
01/27 page 58 10.0% "Reading this reminds me of how ill-prepared I am for the end of the world. I need to learn how to stitch someone up, grow a veggie garden, and work on my bartering skills."

[golden_lily-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

First, this review does contain spoilers for Ashfall. Please be warned.

The circumstances of Ashen Winter should never have come about and I could never truly get into the story while thinking that. Alex risked life and limb to make it Illinois, only to find out his parents are no longer there. That’s rough. It was a punch in the gut at the end of an emotional journey. I, emotionally, understand why Alex announced he was going after them, but logically I can’t parse the actual decision to go.

Six months after the devastating volcanic eruption in Yellowstone and the world is struggling to recover and Alex and Darla have it better than most. Alex’s uncle’s leg is mostly healed, the kale harvest is doing spectacularly, they have animals, meat, and plenty of hands to work the farm. Darla’s invented “Bikezilla”, a half bike/half snowmobile that makes it much easier to get to town. They’re valued members of the community, friends with the doctor, respected by Alex’s aunt and uncle. They’re still at great risk for infection, hypothermia, or any number of diseases, but let me reiterate. In the new world, Alex. Has. It. Good.

And then the bandits show up and fuck it all up. One of the bandits has Alex’s dad’s shotgun and that sets Alex back on his quest to go find them. It’s a pointless quest, serving only to bring unnecessary tension to a story that had its resolution. Despite going out better prepared, with Darla, by the end of the first day Alex has lost all the supplies and we’re back to the start. Struggling to survive in a barren landscape, every move feels like a retread. They end up in the same cities, facing the same shadowy government forces, fighting the same brand of bandits. Except this time we do it backwards!

The book majorly suffers from the loss of a main character. The new characters introduced can’t hold a candle to them and it shows. It also takes away a lot of the survival aspects when 6 people can’t figure out how to rub two sticks together. Again, it felt like pointless biding of time until the conclusion, an emotional punch that didn’t leave me sad, but angry. Because, yes Alex, it really is all your fault. Next time stay home with the geese.

[deweyever · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

post apocalyptic. no graphic gore scenes. cannibalism discussed and worried about. sex scenes are fade away - no graphic descriptions.

[68papyrus · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A great sequel to Ashfall! It's not often that the second book in a series is as well written than the first but Ashen Winter has done just that. This book was full of plenty of action and the pacing was excellent. I'm looking forward to the conclusion of this amazing series!

[tomesofthesoul · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Ashen Winter is the second book in the dystopian series Ashfall by Mike Mullen. The series is set after a super volcanic eruption at Yellowstone plunges the United States into chaos and follows teenager Alex Halprin as he tries to find his girlfriend, Darla, who has been kidnapped by a cannibalistic gang, and his parents, in the dangerous post-eruption world. I have to admit I haven't read the first book, Ashfall, but was surprised how easy it was to get into this as a stand-alone story. There were a few references to the events in Ashfall but they were written in a way which meant those who hadn't read the first novel could flow the story easily.

Ashen Winter is the best book I've read in a long time, I literally could not put it down. The book flows brilliantly with just the right pace to both cover the details and move the story along. There are some fantastic moments of suspense, such as when Alex becomes trapped in a cannibals garage. Alongside some very poignant emotional moments - where you really feel for Alex and his companions - there were a few tears shed whilst reading it. One of the great aspects of Ashen Winter is the excellent characterization, each character is fully fleshed out, believable and with their own take on the situation. The plot was utterly realistic, there were no miracle recoveries from injuries or lucky breaks, and I was really pulled into the story. The ending was satisfying and wrapped up the story nicely, whilst leading onto the third, as yet unpublished book.

Overall, a fantastic book for fans of dystopian fiction, and one which I think would also do well as a young adult read. It doesn't matter if you have not read the first novel, it makes a good stand-alone story, although I've already ordered a copy of the first book and will be keeping my eyes peeled for the third due 2014.

[A ARC was provided by NetGalley]

[clockwork5serenity · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

At the end of Ashfall Alex and Darla had successfully made it to his Uncle’s farm, but some of his family is missing. It’s been six months and Alex has started to worry. In Ashen Winter he and Darla are off again to find the rest of his family. Once again they are in survival mode, packed with supplies for the end of the world as they navigate the snow and even more perilous conditions then before. There are gangs of cannibals, FEMA camps that are taking survivors into treacherous conditions for increased government funding, and whole towns are set to go to war just to have a place called home.

Alex tries to be mature, but as a sixteen year old boy he still makes stupid decisions, decisions that can cost a lot in this new world. I like reading about Alex, but sometimes I just want to yell at him. This series of books is beyond action packed. It is a long book, but a book you want to keep reading. Just like an action movie there are a lot of scenes that are hard to believe and seem implausible, maybe because they are, but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying they story. The characters, even the very minor, are all interesting: the little old librarian in one of the towns, an autistic military genius and his co-dependent sister Alex meets on the road, and even a dim witted cannibal. The Ashfall series is very memorable and even though it is sometimes graphic for YA it is a thrilling read.

[arielfl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I loved the first book in this series detailing the ensuing chaos when a super volcano explodes under Yellowstone park and envelopes the world in ash. This one kind of dragged in the middle. Alex and Darla set off to find Alex's parents when a clue comes their way. Early on Darla is taken out of the picture and the focus of the book becomes one battle after another to save her. It started to all blend together and I stopped being shocked and caring what happened. There needs to be a balance between good things happening to the characters as well as bad and the balance was all tragic in this book. On the plus side I welcomed the Addition of Ben, a character who has autism and his sister Alicia. The end of the book had everyone (well everyone who was left) finally reunited so I look forward to seeing the conclusion through. Let's hope better things are in store for Alex and his crew.

[shellypya · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Sequel to Ashfall. Alex and Darla leave his uncle's farm in search of Alex's parents. Along the way, they suffer setbacks when they try to steal some wheat, Darla gets kidnapped, and Alex gets thrown back into a FEMA camp.

[jen7waters · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Ashen Winter, the second book in Mike Mullin’s series Ashfall follows Alex’s story six months after the Yellowstone supervolcano eruption. Alex now lives in a harsh scenario, where survival is something he has to work for daily.

I honestly enjoyed Mike Mullin’s writing, especially because of Alex’s narrator abilities—his point of view is always straightforward, unpretentious, and appropriate for a teenage boy. I also liked his sympathetic, easygoing manner (brooding & bad-tempered heroes are overrated) and most of all his loyal heart.

The bad news are, I couldn’t get into the story or care that much about the characters, even if I did like the hero. The whole book is about Alex and his girlfriend, Darla, traveling here and there first to find Alex’s parents (who are missing) and then some guy who might know where they are, along the way they face life threatening dangers, make enemies, friends, until Darla is kidnapped by this scary gang and there goes Alex to save her. And that’s it, that pretty much summarizes Ashen Winter.

I’ll give Mike Mullin a thumbs up for his flawless writing and interesting, credible post-apocalyptic worldbuilding, and I can certainly recommend this series to fans of the genre, it’s just that, unfortunately it wasn’t my cup of tea.

(Many thanks to Tanglewood Press and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of Ashen Winter in exchange for a honest review.)

[krista23 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In the first book of the series, Ashfall. The supervalcano has erupted and Alex is left alone, as his parents had been visiting family in Iowa. He has no choice, in his opinion to leave the house and try to find them. Enduring some very exhausting travels and experiencing troubling acts of human behavior he is able to travel far and meet new people in a very gripping story.


Now in book two, he still has yet to find his parents and decides that it has been too long and they have not returned. He must find them, and Darla refuses to let him leave alone.
Now that some time has passed, the states and it's people are trying to regain some sort of formed societies. But there is still huge danger with the rebel groups and so much death, fighting and starvation. Alex and Darla each experience turmoil and separation. Meeting new people, and visiting again with characters from the first book.


Parts of this book are very intense, High tension situations and at times a glimpse at humanity at it's worst. The books carry a theme that love, family and a little hope can go a long way.

4 stars

These books do contain acts of violence, some rape (not graphic).