New Hope: Unlikely Survivors, #2

By Amanda Blackwood

The unlikely survivors are finally able to escape Los Angeles amid disaster and turmoil, but their path is anything but straight. After being derailed by an ambush that strands them outside of a small town run by an abusive tyrant, the group finds a large abandoned home hidden in the woods. Missy, still not healed from her wounds, convinces the group that this would make a suitable place to ride out the storm and hide until things blow over and life returns to normal. But are they delusional in thinking things will ever go back to the way they were? When desperation drives a familiar face out of the Los Angeles valley and straight into their path, all hell breaks loose once again.

"This sequel to the original gave me a feeling of being back with old friends in troubled times. This is a series well worth the read."
- Sherman Hutchinson, Verathane Books

"This series is quickly shaping up to be one of my favorite post-apocalyptic book series from an unknown author. Everything feels so real, it's as if I'm standing there on the brink of disaster with them, looking to Missy for guidance just to stay alive."
- Amber Montgomery

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amanda Blackwood LLC
• Release date: Mar 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889925781

Book preview

MANDOLIN PUBLISHING

Published by the Mandolin Publishing Group, Amanda Blackwood LLC

For more information, write to:

Amanda Blackwood at [e-mail]

Or find us on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Mandolinpublishing

Copyright © Amanda Blackwood, 2023

Cover and internal design © Amanda Blackwood, 2023

Cover design layout © Amanda Blackwood, 2023

Edited by Vicki Warner, Vicki’s Red Pen

All rights reserved. No part of this product may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including information storage and retrieval systems - except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews -  without permission in writing from the author.

Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.  Purchase ONLY authorized editions.The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as unsold and destroyed. Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this stripped book.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Chat with the Author!  www.facebook.com/AmandaBlackwoodSurvivor

Dedication

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To every Alex trying to save the world. You’re appreciated and loved.

Never give up Hope.

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Chapter 1

The Unlikely Road Ahead

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We were nearly out of the city by the time Alex decided we should stop for fuel.  There were a lot of bodies on board that little bus, and without enough fuel, we would never make it to our next stop in the mountains.  Big Bear wasn’t that far off, but if we ran into any trouble, it wouldn’t do us any good to have to backtrack at all without enough fuel to get back down the mountain again. I patted my hand to my leg, and Oliver nuzzled his nose beneath it, understanding my need for comfort, just as he always had.

There’s a station, Holly offered before realizing that a fueling station wouldn’t help out too much without electricity. It was a difficult concept for anyone to understand.  I still struggled with it myself.  I lay prone on the floor of the bus, staring into the faces of my beloved boys in their carriers and wondering how long I would be in such bad shape that I couldn’t take a seat. I much preferred to sit up and look around. I did tend to get car sick when unable to see the road ahead. 

Alex cut the motor to the bus, and we began to coast down the road.  He used the hand crank to roll down the window.  Everyone remained perfectly quiet inside the bus.  Somewhere in the distance I heard a voice call out.

Where do you think you’re going, it called out, taunting us.  Alex froze, and Ben slid deep into the passenger seat. 

Wherever the hell we want, Alex responded with a laugh.  I was still too weak to sit up, but Ben seemed to do exactly what I was thinking far too often.  He sat up straight in the passenger seat of the bus, and I felt the tension among the others ease instantly. 

You old son of a bitch, the voice said, much nearer now than before.  It’s great to see you, Alex.  What are you doing clear in the hell  out here? And where’s your partner? I thought you two were attached at the hip!

From my awkward position on the floor, I could barely see between the driver’s seat and the door, but could tell a rough hand with bloody knuckles rested on the open frame of the bus window as the owner spoke freely with Alex.  It was a hard hand, one that had seen better days to be certain.  The grime that was caked under his nails and around his  cuticles told a tale of a hard life long before the power grid went down worldwide. 

Partner couldn’t make it, Alex lied to the stranger.  Clearly, he wasn’t comfortable with talking about Auralia’s death yet.

Shame she got pregnant, the voice told Alex.  She was a fine piece of ass. Pregnancy destroys a woman’s body.  Alex bristled.  He wasn’t comfortable with anyone speaking of Auralia like that when she was still alive, I was pretty sure.  He certainly wouldn’t be pleased with it now that she was dead.  Alex didn’t respond, but I could tell he was hurting. The voice continued. How many people you got in this thing, he asked, leaning toward the window enough that I could make out his features.  He stared past me, not realizing that someone would be on the floor.  He was extremely dark, as though he’d worked outside every day of his life. His sun bleached hair and brown eyes were mismatched and there was something discreetly sinister about him.  This was someone Alex knew, but with his line of work being a police officer, there was no telling the kind of people he knew. 

There’s a few of us, he finally replied.  Hank, we’re looking to get to Big Bear before nightfall.  We need fuel, but I was hoping you could tell us if there’s been any travelers, any news of the roads ahead of us. 

You know me, always keeping my ear to the tracks. Hank replied, pulling his face back out of the bus.  I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until he did.  I sighed my relief and Holly in the seat nearest to me seemed to relax a little too.  He’d been looking right at her.  We had a couple of folks come down from the mountains a couple days back; they said they’d had a power outage up the hill, and just wanted to come down for some supplies.  Damn fools, didn’t realize it wasn’t just their place up there.  Even the fact that their car didn’t run wasn’t a tip off.  How old is this bus? Hank asked Alex.

Old enough to work, Ben responded for our companion.  You got wheels of your own?  Ben seemed to be thinking along the same lines as I was yet again.  He was suspicious this guy would try to take the Volkswagen from us, given half a chance. Hank laughed.

More than my fair share.  I heard the crunch of gravel under foot and the unmistakable sound of a chain link fence gate being opened.  It ground its way through the dirt and Ben stiffened up in his seat.  Holly and the others turned to look out the windows. 

Alex beckoned Susan to take the driver’s seat while Alex and Ben got out to push the van with Hank.  The tiny blonde mall cop with teeth like a picket fence did as asked without question, and I felt the bus turn off the main road.  After a moment or two we stopped rolling and I heard the chain length gate close again behind us. 

The doors to the bus opened and everyone piled out except me. I was still weak enough to require help in even the most basic movements.  My gunshot wound had begun to heal a tiny bit, but it had only been two days.  The best sign we had was that it had stopped weeping blood everywhere. My broken ribs were still in terrible agony and my busted nose was at least set, but it would take a long time for my black and blue face to return to normal.  I was pretty convinced I looked like Walking Death.  Holly reached out to help me up. 

I stared hard at her eyes trying to catch some kind of a reflection in them of what I looked like, and knew it would be impossible.  She must have sensed my intense stare because she paused, started. 

What is it? Is everything okay?  She looked concerned.  I didn’t want to scare the poor woman.

I’m fine, thanks.  I just... I thought you looked like someone I knew, I lied to Holly. 

Ah.  I get that from time to time, she replied, smiling.  She gripped my right elbow and scooped behind my left shoulder to help me sit up.  I groaned a bit, fighting back the tears of pain.  Slowly, ever so slowly, I sat up.  Wincing, I grabbed at my side to cover the stitches and to keep them from splitting open.  Alex and Ben were waiting just outside the door to help me inside.

Holy shit, what the hell  happened to her? I heard the stranger ask. I tried to drown him out, but Danny, lurking toward the back of the bus, piped up. 

She’s as crazy as she looks, he laughed.  I think the better question would be to ask what has NOT happened to her. 

Hank, as it turned out, owned a junkyard - a car graveyard of sorts.  The fence I’d heard opening was the entrance, and the fence surrounding the compound was topped with razor wire.  His small house sat on the property, entirely closed in by the fence except for the front of the place, which he’d taken the time to board up when things went south.  The only way in and out of the place was through the back door, next to where they had pushed the bus to a stop.  Hank was right, he certainly had more vehicles than he knew what to do with.  He had had more than his fair share, just like he had said. 

Alex held me up by wrapping one arm around my waist, and holding my right arm over his shoulder, while Hank went ahead of us to open the door and the others followed.  This rather small house that usually fit only one person at a time suddenly was bursting at the seams with eight of us, and Becca, our youngest, was carrying in both cats as she trailed behind.  Of course they all made a fuss over my injuries and made me lay down on the filthy velvet couch in the living room area as everyone else took seats wherever they could find them. 

I wanted to remind myself to ask Alex how he knew this strange Hank person, but something in my gut told me that I probably didn’t want to know the answer.  I lay on the couch looking around the room to learn more about Hank, I saw the answer right there before my eyes. Among the sparse photos along the wall I spotted a photo from what appeared to be a few years earlier. There stood a line of police cadets on graduation day, and among them was Alex himself. He hadn’t changed a bit since the photo was taken.  There beside him with the same sun bleached hair, and brown eyes, stood a much cleaner looking Hank.  The three day growth was gone, as was the dead look in his eyes.  He looked like a normal person.  The two had been in the police academy together.  Privately I wondered what had happened in Hank’s life between then and now to have changed him so much.

Eager to be a host for those he thought might be able to offer him something in return, Hank got to work trying to fix some sort of a meal amid the pile of filthy dishes in his kitchen.  In full view of us all, he lifted a spoon from a pot still on the stove and licked whatever it was he’d last been stirring.  From the edges of coagulation it looked like it had been there a few days.  Hank wrinkled his nose and put the spoon back in the pot.

I think it’s gone off, he said.  Strange terminology, I thought. That was the typical phrasing for something that had spoiled in the United Kingdom,  not a typical vernacular in the United States, and certainly not in California.  I’ll look for what else I have.  Of course, if you have any food... his voice trailed off as he opened empty cupboard after empty cupboard.  Of course that’s why he had invited us in. He wanted to know what food rations we had with us.  Alex turned to Rhonda. 

Rhonda, would you mind bringing in a few cans of the soup we have under the driver’s seat? I think we can probably all share about four cans.  Alex was being extremely specific.  He knew as well as I did that there weren’t any cans of soup under the driver’s seat of the bus.  The cans were stashed in a suitcase on the roof.  Danny, go give her a hand, he finished, as Rhonda was starting to protest. 

Rhonda was an interesting lady. I didn’t know much about her yet except she had been an exotic dancer at the strip club where we’d nearly been executed only a few days before.  She lived with her mother, the very sweet Rosie who always tried to make sure I ate before she did.  Rhonda was sometimes like a bull in a china shop though.  She didn’t know when to hold back on her thoughts, and she’d just about spilled the beans about the cans not being under the seat when Alex cut her off.  She and Danny headed outside to gather four cans of soup from a completely different location in the bus while Alex distracted Hank from trying to watch.

So, Hank, what’s it been, two years now?

Something like that, Hank grinned.  You know I didn’t steal that drug money, don’t you? 

Sure, Hank, Alex nodded.  I wasn’t sure how well Hank knew Alex anymore, but I could see right through Alex’s lie.  Of course, he didn’t believe that for a second.  Whatever had gone down, it was bad. 

If your partner hadn’t pinned it on me I’d still be on the force, Hank seethed.  More puzzle pieces clicked into place.  It made sense why he didn’t speak about Alex’s partner by name or with any respect. 

Hank, if you were still on the force, you wouldn’t be now.  It’s insane out there.

I s’pose that’s true too.  Probably best my dad kicked the bucket and I ended up back here.  I’m safe here.

Nowhere is safe, Hank.

Better here than out there, he grinned, pointing toward the boarded up windows.  Out there, that shit will get you killed.  Tell me again, what happened to your partner?

She didn’t make it, Alex replied with an honesty that was easily overlooked.

Chapter 2

The Price of Fuel

I guess it was around the time I discovered I had been shot that I decided to throw most of my personal rule book out the window. I’d always lived by my own set of rules, playing my own game against a world I was never really welcome in.  I didn’t believe in trusting anyone, sharing who I really was, or letting anyone get close to me.  I’d learned rather quickly after meeting Ben that my previous rules to life wouldn’t really apply anymore if I was going to survive.  The price of survival was to trust others.  But try as I might, I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of trusting Hank.  There was something about him that made my skin crawl, all the way up and down my spine.  Ripples of distrust lingered every time he looked at me for more than a split second. 

The world outside was still unseasonably warm for a January in California.  Still, the wind howled through the empty branches of the nearby trees causing them to creak and groan in an eerie echo.  It may have been warm and windy outside, but it was cold and stale amongst the people gathered in the small home.  It was clear to me that I wasn’t the only one who had  concerns about Hank. 

Rhonda and Danny came back in with four cans of soup as requested.  The rest of us had eaten well at the hospital before we’d hit the road again and weren’t terribly hungry, but our host was intent on having us share a meal.  In a world when societal norms had completely vanished, some sense of normalcy among the living was important.  The age-old ritual of breaking bread with a neighbor would survive at least one more day with those of us who attended the wayward and sparse feast.

Hank produced a loaf of bread to accompany the soup, though he was careful to pinch off the mold spots before serving.When finally we were all sitting around the living room, most everyone on the floor, the conversation eventually evolved into something more.

Alex, where is it you guys are heading again? You said Big Bear? What after that?  Hank clearly had a question in mind he wasn’t yet willing to vocalize.

We’ll figure it out as we go, Alex responded truthfully.  The city is dangerous, and people keep turning on one another over stupid shit. We think it’s best to get out of town while we can.

There’s a whole lot of you in one cramped Volkswagen, though.  Do you need another car?

Depends on what it costs us, Alex said, staring intently at the little noodle swimming in a spoon of broth before his face.  Doesn’t it?

I suppose, but I’m not asking much, Hank offered, biting at a piece of bread and picking lint from his open mouth. 

What’s your price? Alex spooned the noodle into his mouth and fished out another to focus his attention on.  This time he produced a tiny cube of chicken with it. 

Take me with you.  Hank stirred his broth with a piece of bread crust before biting at it again. 

We wouldn’t have room in our bus, Alex bartered.  We’d certainly need another vehicle if you were to come with us.

That’s fine.  But I get to pick who goes with me in my ride, Hank sneered, staring directly at Rhonda and Holly.  Holly bristled.  Rhonda rolled her eyes much the way I would have if the advances were in my direction. Suddenly I was thankful for my beaten and wrecked body. 

Not so fast, Alex interjected.  Holly breathed a sigh of relief.  That’s a price we can’t pay.

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