Life After Silence: Silence Series Book 1

By H.D. Reese

Ten years ago, the world Dasmel knew stopped with a blinding flash in the sky. Society dove into chaos as people discovered electronics no longer worked, and The Silence began. Years of panic and anarchy followed, until a small group of hackers restored enough order for the survivors to begin rebuilding life in this harsh, new world.

Dasmel suffered during The Silence at the hands of one of the cruelest self-proclaimed leaders. As she healed and found strength to escape and fight back, she made it her mission to bring justice to the victims The Silence created. With her crew for support and her massive Amphicyons as backup, she hunts down the men who have twisted the mayhem of The Silence to feed their appetites for power and control. Revenge drives her to seek her main target: the one man responsible for her scars. But that path leads her to unexpected people and places that challenge the image she built for herself.

The Silence is over.

But Dasmel’s story is only just beginning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9781663262301

H.D. Reese

H.D. Reese has a deep passion for storytelling, animal advocacy, dancing, painting, and nature. Her love for sharing her experiences and creating vivid worlds beyond our own is evident in her work as the author of Little Brown Monkey and a section of Going Beyond the Programming of Your Life. As an animal lover, Reese draws inspiration from the diverse personalities of her dogs, infusing her stories with elements of loyalty, companionship, and the beauty of the natural world. In addition to her creative pursuits, Reese is a science fiction enthusiast who sees advancing technology as the best path to benefit society. She believes that through innovation, people have the power to shape a better future for generations to come. Staying curious and open-minded, she eagerly anticipates the amazing discoveries and inventions that the future holds. H.D. Reese is also a survivor of domestic violence who has not only overcome her own struggles but also uses her experiences to empower and inspire others. As an inspirational speaker and certified self-defense instructor, she teaches women to be their own heroes and advocates for their ability to protect themselves. By sharing her story and offering practical tools for self-defense, Reese is dedicated to raising awareness about domestic violence and creating a safer, more empowered community. Through her various endeavors, H.D. Reese inspires others to follow their dreams, stay curious, and stand up for themselves. To learn more about Reese's work and mission, visit WarriorDefenders.com and join her in the fight for empowerment and safety. Stay connected for "Silence Series" Book 2.

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Copyright © 2024 H.D. Reese.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-6231-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-6230-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024908042

iUniverse rev. date: 05/03/2024

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Epilogue

About the Author

Intensely Epic Read!! I was completely taken by surprise by the captivating and turbulent roller coaster ride! It will grip you and latch on, and leave you wanting more!

— H. M. Keeton

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Takes you on a thrilling journey! Dasmel’s determination for justice burns inside of her on each assignment. Her quest for justice is so rightly deserved. I found myself eagerly turning to the next page to see what happens next. Great read for the soul about redemption.

— S. Brooks-Bowman

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Hold onto your seats! Small group of survivors including Dasmel, along with her massive beasts, help the less fortunate and take on the predators in a world that has been decimated!

— Det. B. Nichols

I would like to

dedicate this book to all the women out there

who are struggling. Know that there is life after silence.

CHAPTER ONE

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B radley Thomas had been on the run for the past week. While he wasn’t the sort of man to flee just because some dumb broad was after him, he wasn’t taking this particular woman lightly. The rumors alone about this huntress made his skin crawl. Damsel or Dragonfly . He wasn’t sure of her exact name, but the horror stories of what she did to men—men like him—were enough to keep him on guard.

The full moon was high in the sky, but very little of its light flickered down on him beside his campfire. Dark clouds loomed overhead. Bradley felt like they were following him. This was the first time he had managed to get a fire going in days; the ground was wet from the recent rain, but it looked like he had finally caught a break.

He had set up camp in the middle of a thick forest. Nothing fancy—just a tent and a bit of clothesline. He was hoping his blankets would dry out that night so he could curl up and catch some decent sleep. His coat was dry, at least, though he was still shivering. Winter was thankfully past, but a cold front moved in right when he fled.

A twig snapped somewhere in the tree line, and his hunting knife was out in a flash. Seeing the dried blood from his last victim, he grimaced. I should have cut that one’s throat. He had foolishly kept the woman alive in case he wanted to go back for more. But she escaped his personal brothel and apparently wanted revenge for the good time he had enjoyed with her. It’s always the quiet ones that screw you. His eyes scanned the trees. It was too dark to see anything.

Bradley had flourished in the new world that befell Earth after The Silence. He was tough, and that’s the sort of man the world needed right now. At least, that’s what he told himself. Someone strong. A leader. Someone who could scare others into submission and take charge. His compound was small compared to the others that cropped up around the desolate wasteland that was once his home state of Arkansas. But his compound provided food, water, and a handful of tradable goods.

Didn’t that stupid woman realize that? Didn’t he feed her? Keep her safe? Why would she rat him out? Sure, he had his fun from time to time, but to send some crazy hitman after him? A couple of his girls grew insubordinate, and it made several men in his compound antsy, forcing him to dispose of the two whores. The broads’ questioning of his leadership probably gave the last woman the courage to attempt to overthrow him and to run for help.

It was quiet again. Probably just a deer. If it were a wolf, he would already be fighting it off. Bradley reached down toward his hip; his sidearm was still at the ready.

He set his blade down, rubbed his hands together, then held them out toward the small fire. His mind drifted back to his compound. It was a string of three good-sized houses that managed to stay upright during The Silence. He kept the largest for himself and his girls, and the fifteen citizens of his little colony shared the other two. It was a lot more than most places could offer. The citizens of Bradley’s compound consisted entirely of men, and good behavior and productivity were rewarded in the form of one of his women for a night.

The trouble had started when Bradley killed a woman for trying to fight him off. She was a crowd favorite, and losing her services bred serious ill will among the men. He then dispatched the second to regain control and shut them up; she had been another likeable face.

To drive home the point that he could do what he wanted when he pleased, he carved up a third woman’s face. It was the prettiest face of all, and the men finally understood that if they kept questioning him, Bradley would continue to destroy their favorite inventory. For him, a woman’s face didn’t matter half as much as maintaining order in his compound. Miss Scar Face was not a fan of his methods, it seemed.

Thankfully, he had good contacts at a few of the other camps. When the dreaded woman of legend started asking around about him, he was warned to lay low for a while. He then put his right-hand man Eddie in charge while he dipped out for a while. The goal was to hide out for a few weeks until the woman got bored and went home to California (or wherever she was supposedly from). Miss Scar Face couldn’t possibly offer a decent reward for the hit, so Bradley imagined this infamous woman would only hunt for so long before deeming it not worth her time.

Bradley leaned forward, turning the rabbit he was roasting over the fire. He was a bit of a glutton and consumed his supply of food in two days. Thankfully, he knew a thing or two about setting traps and, after a few days of waiting, finally nabbed himself something decent. He hadn’t eaten rabbit since before The Silence when he was a child out hunting with his old man. His father had undercooked it, and it was disgusting. He learned from his old man’s mistakes, though. This thing would be cooked to perfection.

As his catch started to smell amazing, he remembered the salt stashed away in his backpack. Leaving the rabbit to finish roasting on its own, he went to his tent. Much to Bradley’s pleasure, he found the little saltshaker tucked into the outside pocket of his pack. He had packed a bunch of apples for the road and always liked tossing a bit of salt on them when snacking. It would add just the right flavor to the meat too. He grabbed his special canteen as an afterthought. A nip of whiskey would round out his meal perfectly.

Salt in one hand and canteen in the other, Bradley dipped back out of his tent and headed toward the fire. As his eyes rested on the empty spit, his jaw fell open and he dropped his salt.

My dinner! he roared, imagining that a wild animal had snatched it. You damn beast! I hope it burns your guts!

A woman’s laughter. He heard it, and his head was instantly on a swivel. Bellerophon, you naughty boy.

Bradley heard the distinct crunch of bone followed by a loud gulp. Who are you? he snarled into the dark.

A ray of moonlight pierced the clouds and trickled down through the trees, creating a spotlight effect at the edge of the wood line just inside his campsite. A woman stepped into it from behind the trees.

She was a thin black woman in her mid-twenties, about five-foot-five with a third of her hair buzzed, the other two thirds carefully done in thin dreads and draped over the side of her head. Her brown eyes eerily reflected the moonlight and made her seem almost inhuman.

The woman wore dark, loose-fitting jeans covered in various holes and tears, stuffed into a pair of black combat boots. She wore a black, sleeveless leather jacket. Her arms were covered with leather armor straps, and fingerless gloves enclosed her hands. On her hips were various weapons that Bradley couldn’t quite make out, but this woman was obviously well armed.

When he met her hard gaze, he shivered. You’re her, aren’t you? Damsel.

Wow, she sneered. You too? I swear, no one ever gets that right. It’s Dasmel. Points for trying.

She looked strong, confident and sarcastic, and seemed to appreciate her own wit. Far from the type of woman Bradley was used to dealing with. She wasn’t breakable; that much he was certain of. He unholstered his gun and pointed it right at her. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she unrolled a piece of paper. He heard another crunching sound in the woods, and he jerked his head and gun to the side, trying to catch sight of whoever was with her. Who’s there?

Just my dogs, she said casually, and he heard an unearthly growl.

His arm started to shake, and he pointed his gun back at the woman. Leave!

Bradley Thomas, she said, reading from the paper. Age thirty-two. Leader of Death Valley Ranch. Cutely named, if you don’t mind me saying. Sounds like you’re overcompensating for something. Let’s see, guilty of at least two known murders and wrongful imprisonment.

I-I didn’t imprison anybody, he said, not sure why he was attempting to defend himself.

Locking a woman in a bedroom is wrongful imprisonment, Bradley. I know it’s hard for you to understand that imprisoning a woman is just as bad as locking up a man, but try to keep up with me, would you? she said and cleared her throat, looking back down at the paper yet again. Rape. Torture. Kidnapping. My goodness, you have got quite a rap sheet, Bradley.

He fired his weapon, but it merely clicked. His eyes went wide.

Ooh, that’s not smart. I took those out last night when you left it hanging in that tree over there, Dasmel said, shaking her head, and the growling sounds from beyond the trees grew louder. Closer. Sometimes I like to let my contracts finish a last meal, so I must apologize. My little Bellerophon can be a bit of a troublemaker at times.

Why won’t my legs move? Bradley quaked.

Never in his life had he been afraid of a woman. They were pawns to him, but there was something awe-inspiring about this one. She pinned him with a glare, a menacing gleam in her eyes. He could feel his bottom lip start to quiver. He caught sight of his hunting knife by the fire and dove for it. He held it out in her direction, but she didn’t even flinch.

Las-last chance! he stammered. Leave, or I’ll kill you.

She cocked her head to the side, tucked the slip of paper into her back pocket, and straightened her gloves. Oh, honey, you really have this backward.

Snarling. Each second, the sound grew louder—almost as loud as the thumping of his own heartbeat pulsating through his eardrums. The light from the fire glittered and sparkled off the white teeth and blue eyes of the enormous creature that stalked from the trees behind Dasmel.

What Bradley saw was far worse than the rumors. The creature, standing on all fours, was still somehow taller than the woman, its eyes at her level. Its face resembled a large wolf, its shoulders and shape very much bear-like, though its hindquarters and long swishing tail reminded Bradley of an African lion. Much bigger, though, than any of the creatures it resembled.

His jaw quivered. Move, he told his legs, but he was frozen. The hand holding his hunting knife shook. Even if he could manage to pierce the thing, what good would it do? It would probably be no more than an annoying thorn in its side. Dasmel reached up, stroking the beast’s light brown fur, and for a moment Bradley thought he heard it purr.

Aw, are you still hungry? the woman asked it and shot Bradley a sideways glance that very much suggested he would be next on the monster’s plate.

Pl-please . . .

Never would Bradley Thomas have imagined he would be the one begging. That look in the woman’s eyes—he would get no mercy from her, and when that clicked with him, he finally regained movement. He bolted, and the woman cackled. She didn’t even try to chase him. Why?

Because she doesn’t need to, you idiot, he scorned himself as he raced through the trees, branches slapping him across the face as he went. He hadn’t sprinted ten yards before he bumped into a second, significantly larger monster. This one was truly the stuff of nightmares. Its fur was darker, and its green eyes had a serious, almost intelligent, gaze. The first one just wanted to eat his dinner, but this one? This one shared Dasmel’s menacing glare. Like it relished what would come next.

It swiped its enormous paw, and Bradley felt its claws shred right through his shoulder. He went down hard, landing at the creature’s feet. He tried to get up, but a second slash to his lower back sent him face first into a rock. He spit out blood and attempted to crawl, but the large creature laid its paw on the back of his right knee, pinning him to the ground.

Did he dare look up and back?

When he did, it stared back at him, looking almost bored. He felt mocked, like it was saying You were too easy. You couldn’t have made this a bit more fun for me?

Dasmel and her first monster caught up to them. Wow, I got to say, you made it a lot further than some of your buddies back home did. Good girl, Chimera. You get the big bone tonight.

The smaller monster whined. Dasmel smiled at him affectionately. Don’t you start. You gave away our position going after that rabbit when I told you to leave it alone. You stole all that food, so you can’t complain, can you?

Le-let me go! Bradley cried, and tears started to stream down his face. What are these things? Hellhounds? He wasn’t the superstitious type, but frankly he didn’t think they could be anything except dogs of the devil himself.

Harsh, Dasmel said. Amphicyons—bear dogs. And they’re very hungry.

Bradley was just about to give himself up for lost when he remembered the hunting knife in his hand. He was too startled and shocked to use it against the female beast when he first stumbled into it. He glanced up at Dasmel as she came toward him.

My client requested I give you a little makeover, she said. Kind of like the one you gave her. She had a butterfly knife drawn and was expertly twirling it about, flicking it open and closed with her right hand.

Last chance for life. Pure adrenaline was his only hope of escape. He flung the hunting knife back and straight into the enormous paw of the female beast. It let out a horrid yelp and jumped back. Dasmel quickly went to her beast’s aid, and despite his agony, Bradley scrambled to his feet and ran.

He had never run so fast in his life. He wasn’t sure where he was heading. The trees ended abruptly, but he kept running. Evidently his hideout in the forest was at the edge of a desert zone. His feet kicked up the sandy ground as he ran, almost numb to the pain now.

The ground suddenly dropped away ahead of him, and he found himself cornered at the edge of a cliff. No! he wailed, looking to his left and right. He turned around, and there they were. The monster called Chimera lunged at him, and in an instant, he was in her teeth, being shaken like a rag doll. He wailed, feeling each canine as it pierced his left side.

Bellerophon bounded around Dasmel and managed to snag Bradley’s right shoulder and arm. He felt his arm snap against the weight of the creature’s jaws, and the game was on. He was nothing more than a tug-of-war toy for two oversized mutts.

You must have really taken her by surprise with that hunting knife, Dasmel said. Her voice calmed the monsters, and the pulling and gnashing stopped, but neither creature released him. She’s usually a much more efficient killer. I guess she underestimated you. I think she just wanted it to be rough. Her mouth twisted into a sneer. You like it rough, though, don’t you, Bradley?

God, help me!

No, I don’t think He will, Bradley, Dasmel said, striding to where her pets held Bradley at the edge of the cliff. She gripped her butterfly knife as she crouched down and dug into his face with the blade. It was startling, but Bradley wasn’t entirely sure he felt it.

Please. he sobbed.

You know, you didn’t even ask me what I meant when I mentioned your friends back home, the woman said, disappointed. Guess you don’t even care. Just worried about your own skin. People like you disgust me.

Please!

Who wants to finish him off? she asked, and Bellerophon gave such a ferocious yank that he ripped Bradley clear out of Chimera’s mouth, leaving a huge chunk of his side in her jaws. Blood and viscera sprayed across Dasmel’s body.

Meanwhile, Bellerophon, apparently surprised at winning the game, released his prize completely, sending Bradley’s mangled body over the edge of the cliff.

I’m free from them at last, was the man’s last earthly thought as his body plummeted to the jagged rocks below.

CHAPTER TWO

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I t had been a while since a job left her this messy, and it wasn’t even her fault this time.

Are. You. Serious? Dasmel questioned after a long pause, her arms outstretched and dripping with blood. She was drenched, and so was Chimera.

Simultaneously, Dasmel and Chimera slowly turned their heads in Bellerophon’s direction. His eyebrows raised, and he instantly turned his head and shrugged. As if he could seriously convince them that this was somehow not his fault. To him, the game was simply over.

How are you the only one not covered in entrails right now? Dasmel sighed. He hurried over, attempting to lick her face clean. No. Shoo.

Bellerophon’s ears went back, and his eyes grew twice their regular size. He whined pitifully