It was nice to see so much viewership and positive feedback from my last excerpt I posted a week or so ago for my new book Hood, Book one of the American Rebirth series.
I hesitate to say the editing process is coming to a close, but I hope (and pray) that it is. It’s been a long, long road. I still am researching the best way to go about self-publishing, and still need to get some stuff done, but hopefully I’ll have the book up soon. You can be sure you’ll hear about it 🙂
So without further ado, enjoy:
Hood slammed the door of the truck. The bright sun blared down on the old house that remained largely intact. He’d seen this exact sight before; an unhinged red front door and pile of rotten wood shingles that lay in a heap next to the walkway. They’d already been to this house, months ago. He scanned the area, looking over each shoulder. The narrow lake shimmering in the sunlight nearby looked much more sylvan now than in the nighttime.
“Mm-hm?” He replied, the crunch of his footsteps on gravel unceasing as he strode towards the old farmhouse. It still held the air of a once majestic country home as it must’ve been some years ago.
“Why are we looking in the same place again?” Hood’s voice did nothing to hide his annoyance.
“Just keep an eye on the truck,” Whiskey said, entering the house with his police-issue shotgun half-raised.
Hood breathed in deep, leaning his head back and letting out a grumbling sigh. He looked out over the still lake that carried a few lost pine cones about like ships at sea. He turned around, observing the vast overgrowth of grass and weeds on what must have once been fields. The old barn covered in flaky brown paint was listing so heavily to one side it looked like if Hood yelled at it, it would collapse. In the distance, over top the treeline he could see the rise of the Shenandoah mountains. At least, he was pretty sure that’s what it was.
He hoisted his rifle onto his shoulder, letting it rest there lazily. At least it was a gorgeous day in yet another ghost town. He wondered what his old home in D.C. looked like. The parts of the city that still stood were on the brink of chaos when Hood and Taylor left two years ago. They waited for days hoping their parents would show up, but fled when the survivors grew desperate. Radiation sickness decimated many of the people that had survived the blast.
How different would Hood’s life be if his entire family was together during the fall. They probably never would have met Whiskey and become a part of Clearwater. He hadn’t seen Ian in over a year even before the fall, barely talked to him save a few texts. It was easy to get caught up in your life and not even pick up the phone to say hi. Now he just prayed Ian was still alive.
It was hard to accept going from a world where communication was a given to a world where your survival depended on being cut off from the world. A bird of prey was floating slowly on the strong winds high up in the blue sky. Nothing to see here, buddy.