Shade (Shade Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  SHADE

  Shade Chronicles – book one

  By T.K. Bradley

  Copyright © 2016 by T.K. Bradley Books

  Cover design by Contagious Covers

  Editing by Contagious Edits

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  SHADE

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  DEDICATION

  For my parents, who are always willing to read my stories…and who affirm they’re not bothered by the swears. I don’t believe you.

  And for my children, who are far too young to read this.

  CHAPTER 1

  And morn should beam, And noon should burn

  -Emily Dickinson

  The sun creeps across the sky. The shadows shorten, sliding towards the tip of my outstretched feet. My rubber soles are beginning to soften in the heat. Part of me is tempted to just wait until the sun reaches me. How much would it hurt? I wonder. Sarah’s skin had blistered so quickly, the boils blackening before a minute had passed. At least she was dead before her body started to sizzle.

  We had a plan. It involved food, shelter, safety. And most importantly, it involved not being dead. And now? Death isn’t looking like such a bad alternative.

  There’s nothing left. Dust, as far as the eye can see, a never-ending sky. And the shade. My last little sliver of shade. The roof of the farmhouse behind me may be missing, but its walls stand firm behind my back, and I’m confident they should stay upright for a few years more.

  But will I?

  The farmhouse must’ve been a real beauty, once upon a time. It was a low building, just the one floor, but wide, connected to the barn. There were a dozen stalls for horses, but they were long gone by the time we got here. Pity. We could have used the meat. Even more unfortunate is the fact that a fire had taken most of the house, leaving nothing more than a skeletal frame.

  The building has its perks though. It’s secluded, far enough from the city that we don’t have to worry too much about bandits. As if we have something for them to steal. We’re also sitting on higher ground, giving us a view of the surrounding land. Nothing’s sneaking up on us here. The view must’ve been something once. If I squint my eyes, I can almost imagine what it would have looked like - rolling hills of vibrant green, birds soaring over a crisp sky. And then, of course, there’s the root cellar.

  “Hey, James. You might want to think about moving.” Seth has already settled in around the corner where the shadow will remain until sunset. When I don’t answer him, he calls out louder. “Jimbo! You awake?”

  I turn my head and lock eyes with him. There’s no way he doesn’t know what I’m thinking. “Don’t do it, Jimbo. Not today.”

  “It’s inevitable, Seth. Why bother putting it off?” My voice comes out in a croak, pushing through my parched throat.

  “You can delay the inevitable for one more day.”

  I give him my best mind-your-own-business glare. His mouth turns down, but he doesn’t speak again. His head tucks back around the corner, and I’m left with my thoughts.

  Okay, so the new plan. Assuming I choose life, I’m going to need a few things.

  1: Water. The well isn’t dry just yet, but the water is starting to taste muddy. We should probably start thinking about finding a new one.

  2: Food. The traps are still coming up with a scrawny animal from time to time. Possum, mostly. An occasional rabbit. Honestly, I’m just dying for some vegetables. I haven’t taken a shit in over a week.

  3: Safety. That’s a whole other issue. During the day, the only danger is the sun, but at night…

  At least we’ve got the hang of barricading the door.

  The sun is just a few inches away from the tips of my worn boots, and the approaching heat is starting to sear my skin. I wipe my shirt across my face, and it comes back soaked and grubby. It’s time to make a choice. I try to hold Sarah’s beautiful face in my mind, her beaming smile, laughing at my lame jokes. But all I can see is her charred flesh, her blackened fingers reaching for me while I stood by, powerless to help her. I watched my wife burn. I was a coward then, and I’m a coward now.

  I roll onto my hands and knees and drag myself around the corner to continue sitting in the shade. Seth gives me a small nod, acknowledging my continued existence, while Dean, Oscar and Selena don’t even bother to look my way. They’re more worried about Tony and Beth. They should have been back hours ago, and now it’s getting too late for them to even try to get back.

  Either they’re hunkered down in the shade somewhere. Or they’re dead.

  We make quite the group, lined up in the shade. I guess you could say they’re like my pseudo-family. Seth is the father, obviously, being older and more mature than the rest of us. He takes care of the rest of us, keeps us in line. Makes sure I don’t burn. Dean and Oscar are like my annoying older brothers, who can’t seem to keep their thoughts to themselves. Beth is like the sister I never had, and Tony is like her husband - a part of the family, but never quite comfortable at family dinners. Laughs a little too hard at my jokes. You know the type. Sarah…she was the mother. Selena has since stepped into the role, but reluctantly.

  I’m not really sure what my role is. Maybe the pet dog. I wish someone would put me down.

  Dust is the great equalizer. Here we sit, and we are all different. Young and old, male and female, dark skin and light. And yet, covered in a thin layer of dust, we all look the same. Equal.

  Family.

  CHAPTER 2

  Do not stand at my grave and cry.

  I am not there, I did not die!

  -Anonymous

  “James?” Sarah’s voice wakes me, but I pretend to still be asleep. Part of me needs to stay in this bed right now, and the other part of me needs her to join me. “Jamie, you’re going to be late for work.”

  Sarah tries to pull the covers back, but I’m too fast for her. I grab a corner and roll, wrapping it around myself like a burrito. Her giggle is the sweetest sound. “Don’t make me come in there and get you,” she threatens, teasingly.

  I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Is that a promise?”

  She sighs wistfully. “I’m afraid it’s a rain check for now.” She tickles my toes which stick out from the end of my blanket roll, and I pull them in with a yelp. “But just you wait until you get home…”

  I watch as Sarah heads for the shower. She slides her nightgown down seductively, over her hips, exposing her lean frame and pert ass, then looks back over her shoulder. “You’d better hurry. You don’t want to be late.” I have a feeling she doesn’t mean late to work. Damn, that woman knows how to get me out of bed.

  I try to kick the blankets off, but they prove stubborn. I’m all tangled up, and it seems the more I struggle, the tighter they get. Sarah’s waiting for me; I need to get out of here.

  My heart starts to pick up its pace as anxiety settles in. Why can’t I get out of here? I’m sweating now, panting. When did it get so hot in here?! The light streaming in from the window is too bright. Glaring, really. I squint against it, then close my eyes, but it’s so bright now that it’s unbearable even through my lids.

  I bring my arms up, trying to block it out. My face feels strange, slick and gritty ag
ainst my skin. When I pull my arm back, it’s covered in muddy sweat. What??

  When I look up at the ceiling above me, it’s a cloudless sky. I let my arm fall back into my lap.

  “Bad dream?” Seth asks.

  “The worst.”

  CHAPTER 3

  In death there is life; In life there is death.

  -Phire Chalo

  The silence is the hardest thing to handle.

  It wasn’t so long ago that we had a constant bombardment of sound, pounding at our skulls until we were numb to it. I was raised on the sounds of traffic and car horns, airplanes, dogs barking, kids squealing. Now, it’s the silence that’s ringing in my ears. If you listen carefully, you might hear the faint whisper of dried corn stalks. That is, if you’re lucky enough to catch a breeze. Most days, the air sits stagnant, cocooned around us, not even enough of a puff to blow a hair out of place. Storms are rare, but on those occasions, it just whips sand into your eyes. The trees have all been stripped bare by the pelting grit.

  And if you listen really hard? I swear you can hear the faint pop of the ground opening to give up its last vestiges of moisture.

  Sometimes, we talk just to keep the silence at bay. It doesn’t matter much what we say. We used to sing, but after a few months of this same routine, we couldn’t find anything to sing about anymore.

  I stare down at my hands, the chapped skin peeling. I want to pick at it. Or maybe tap my fingers to a song stuck in my head, Billy Joel singing The Piano Man. I would be content just to shuffle my feet through the dirt. But I can’t seem to find the energy to fidget anymore.

  So I just sit. Not much else to do.

  Movement catches my eye, and I roll my head towards it. It’s a small lizard that squeezed out from a crack in the foundation.

  I imagine all the insects and creatures, maybe birds, hiding in the crevices under our very feet. Maybe the world isn’t quite as barren as it seems. Oscar claims that he once saw a camel, but I’m pretty sure he’s full of shit. Lies slip easily from the tongue when you’re bored.

  “Nice weather we’re having,” Seth says, his voice cracking. He’s told that joke so many times I can’t even force myself to smile.

  “Yup. BBQ weather,” says Dean. “With thick juicy burgers, slaw and potato salad.”

  I feel my taste buds give a little tingle. I’m too dehydrated for actual drool, but I can almost remember what it felt like to salivate over a burger.

  Selena surprises us all by joining in. “Can I get anyone a beer?”

  “Yes you can,” Dean is quick to say. “In a frosted mug, if it’s not too much trouble.” Selena awards him a little smile.

  He’s on a roll and just won’t stop. “And then let’s fill up the kiddie pool and cool off our feet…”

  That ends it right there. The smiles die from our lips. There aren’t kids anymore. And at this rate, there won’t be adults for much longer either.

  After a beat of silence, I set in for the rescue. “I dunno ‘bout all that. Feels a bit like rain to me.”

  Five heads swivel up to the sky. Nope. Not a chance in Hell.

  “I heard it was supposed to snow tonight.” Selena says with a blissful sigh. She closes her eyes, as if she can feel the temperature dropping by the second. I can’t help but close my eyes too. I wish that I could be anywhere besides this oven. “Yup. A regular blizzard.”

  “I throw a mean snowball,” Oscar says, with a wicked grin.

  We all bask in the memory of snow, allowing the silence to settle over us again like a blanket. Or more like ten wool blankets, while wearing long johns and a sweat suit.

  “I’m so bored!” Oscar moans. He glances over at Selena. “Hey, you wanna…you know?” He gives her a little nudge and waggles his eyebrows.

  “Seriously?” Selena eyes him up and down, starting at his matted hair, past his red, peeling face. She takes in the state of his only pair of clothes, now faded and so threadbare that they’re nearly transparent, and the sweat causes them to cling in all the wrong places. Her lip pulls up in a sneer. “That would involve touching you. When was the last time you had a bath?”

  Oscar raises one arm and takes a whiff. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Oh, trust me. It’s that bad.”

  CHAPTER 4

  When we with daisies lie

  -Emily Dickinson

  “It can’t be that bad…” Sarah sounds so hopeful.

  “Trust me. It’s that bad.” I quickly run to the window, and pop it open before running back to the kitchen to grab a tea towel. I wave it madly in front of the smoke detector, but I wasn’t quite fast enough. The alarm is piercing, and seconds later, Mr. Crankypants next door bangs on the wall. Sarah kicks the wall in return. Seriously, so nice of him to check on us, to make sure there isn’t a real fire over here. Prick.

  The smoke starts to clear with the fresh air, but the alarm continues to blare.

  “Fuck this.” I rip the cover off the detector, and pull out the battery. The smoke detector takes its last breath, sputters, and dies. I heave a smoke filled sigh. That smell is going to linger for weeks.

  I scrape the charred remains of dinner into the garbage can. I seriously have no idea how things went so wrong, so fast. “I’m sorry, babe. I really wanted this to be a special night.”

  “Oh, honey.” Sarah takes the pan out of my hands, and sets it in the sink to soak. Then she wraps her arms around my waist, her head resting on my chest. “I don’t care what kind of food we eat for dinner. We could have peanut butter sandwiches for all I care.”

  “We’re out of peanut butter.”

  Sarah gives me a smack, but she’s laughing. “Jam, then. So long as I’m eating them with you.”

  I lean down and place a kiss on her neck, my whiskers making her squeal. She wiggles in my arms, but I tighten my grip. “What’s that? You’re not ticklish, are you?”

  Her body tenses. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I would.” She’s already pushing her hands against my chest in a weak attempt to escape. “I’ll give you a ten-second head start.”

  I loosen my arms, and she looks up at me. There’s lust and excitement shining in them, and it’s driving me wild.

  “Ten… nine…”

  Sarah bolts down the hallway to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I count down to five before following.

  I gently tap on the door. “Ready or not…” I open the door, slowly pushing it wide. Sarah is nowhere to be seen. “...here I come.”

  I take a quick look behind the door. I wouldn’t put it past her to lay in wait for me. There aren’t a whole lot of places to hide in here. I rip the closet door open, with a dramatic, “AH HA!”

  Nothing.

  I kneel down on the carpet, and lift up the bed skirt. “I’m gonna get y--” Not there either. Hmmm…

  I look around the room, and my eyes fall on the TV. It’s muted, some news channel, and words scroll across the bottom of the screen. But, the words don’t make any sense. Death toll? Evacuation? “Ummm…Sarah?” No answer. “I’m not playing around. You need to come here.”

  I try to keep one eye on the screen while searching around for the remote. “Sarah! Something’s going on!”

  The TV is showing clips, a group of protestors carrying signs. The end is near! one of them proclaims. Another one reads: “Isaiah 66:15”.

  If the bible-thumpers are getting involved, you know shit’s getting serious. That’s when the first rock is thrown, and just like that, the crowd morphs into an angry mob. Even with the sound off, I can almost hear their fury, faces twisted, fists clenched.

  The camera pans out as the police turn on the hoses, blasting the front row back.

  “Seriously?” My voice sounds strained, out of place in the silent bedroom. My eye is drawn to the corner of the screen, where I can see Gino’s, my favorite pizza place. But…that’s just down the block!

  I quickly run to the window, looking out across the sea of high rises. The sun is setting, cast
ing the world in a fiery glow. And five floors down, already cast in the city’s shadow, I can see the streets are packed. The crowd is flowing down the street like a swift river current. Or like a herd of gazelles being chased by a lion.

  I hear something tapping. Reluctantly tearing myself away from the pandemonium on the streets, I follow the sound, expecting it to lead to Sarah’s hiding spot.

  “Sarah, this isn’t funny anymore. Come on out.”

  The tapping is coming from back the way I came, in the kitchen. Did she slip past me?

  The shock of the situation begins to sink in. The news said evacuation. Does that mean we need to leave? Where will we go?

  I need to find Sarah. She’ll know what to do.

  The tapping gets louder, but I still can’t see her. The tap isn’t dripping in the sink, it’s not raining. No one’s at the door. I check the living room, through into the dining room. The table is still set for our romantic meal, the candles still lit, wax dripping onto the crisp tablecloth. Anxiety and dread settle into my gut.

  “Sarah?” I whisper.

  The tapping stops.

  “Jimbo? You alright?”

  My stomach sinks, and I swallow back a tear. “Yeah, Seth. I’m still here.”

  Seth gives me a nod and goes back to throwing pebbles at the lizard.

  CHAPTER 5

  Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me.

  -Sri Aurobindo

  The seconds turn to minutes, the minutes to hours, until another day is passing us by. The sun continues its path through the sky until at last the heat begins to fade.

  We pass around the last of the day’s water ration, careful not to spill. I gratefully, and carefully, take the canteen from Seth. He makes sure my grip is firm before releasing it to me. We won’t make that mistake twice.