Winds of Ares: An Apocalypse Thriller by Druga, Jacqueline (most recommended books TXT) 📕

We tried to keep the kids occupied and optimistic. Telling them Martin was helping Rosie.

They didn’t need to know, not yet. Martin was a huge presence in all of our lives. I did not, for one second, feel he was no longer with us.

It was still early in the day when we got back to the ranch. We immediately put Reese on horse duty. Having him walk them, water them, while we focused on the house.

Until the sun set, we rummaged through the home, salvaging what we could for Martin. Favorite mugs, pictures, canned goods, a blanket his grandmother had knitted, were some of the items I found. Lane located his rifles. The ones that graced the case in the dining room. Three of the five were damaged. The other two had some scuff marks, Lane stated he would have to test them. The one Martin kept in the barn was in pristine condition.

Liz from the diner gave us some hot dogs and some little snack cakes for the kids. I cooked the dogs on the RV’s little grill along with a can of chili. While I made dinner, Lane created a fire pit more so for light than warmth. Dinner was enough to fill our bellies, plus, it probably would be a long time, if ever, until we had hot dogs. With that on my mind, I had three.

We parked the RV near the barn, it was less dusty there. We kept the one barn door open so the horses could get some of the light from the fire. I wasn’t sure it was necessary, but it seemed right.

The kids were exhausted. I thought they’d go to sleep a lot earlier, but it took them a while. I guess the events of the day were emotionally challenging. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep very easily.

Finally, after the complaints of weird smells on the RV pull out bed, they passed out. I probably bored them with my counting of supplies.

Lane had asked me to bring two glasses when I came out to sit with him, which took a lot longer than he expected. With the kids out, I grabbed two glasses. Only they weren’t glass, they were old plastic Tupperware glasses that came with the camper.

“Hey, hon, are you coming out?” Lane called from outside.

I stepped out, holding them up. “Here with the glasses. Are you … are you smoking?”

“Yeah, I thought you knew, I started again a year ago.”

“No, I didn’t know.”

Lane had a little folding chair for me next to him and I sat.

“How?” Lane asked. “How did you not smell it on me?”

“I thought you were hanging out with someone that smoked.” I shrugged. “Man, why are you and Martin picking up your bad habits again at the end of the world?”

“What better time.” He joked.

“Oh, yeah, for sure. When there are no doctors. Anyhow, here’s your glass.”

He took it and laughed. “Wow, this is old.”

“Clean though. The entire set came with the RV.”

“Sweet.” He lifted a bottle of Bourbon. “Unbroken, care for a swig?”

I gasped. “Lane, that is his Rip Van stuff. It’s like twenty-five hundred dollars a bottle.”

“Do you really think he paid twenty-five hundred bucks for a bottle of bourbon called Old Pappy’s?”

“Probably not.”

“No.” Lane scoffed. “He started an urban legend that’s all.”

“That has been around as long as Carlie has,” I said. “He’ll be mad if we open it.”

“No, he won’t. Too late, I already did. He’ll be fine.” He poured a little in my cup. “Let’s make it last though.”

“I don’t plan on drinking the whole bottle with you, Lane.” I clicked my plastic glass to his and sipped. The bourbon was smooth yet had more of a barrel taste and bite. “Yeah.” I smacked my lips together. “This is not a two thousand dollar bottle.”

“You’re right.” Lane looked at the glass after drinking. “I’m thinking Ten High at eight bucks a bottle tastes smoother.”

“I know, right?”

“Can I ask you something?” He glanced over at me.

“Sure.”

“I saw you had mapped out the entire route to West Virginia. What are the little markings with the U mean?”

“Places in each town that have underground areas we can get to. Garage business.”

“That’s a lot of research,” he said.

“I used Google, then I’d call.” I shrugged. “I wanted to make sure no matter where we went, we had a place to stop.”

“I’m impressed. Also, you had a pretty big area in West Virginia colored in. I thought you said you knew where we’re go.”

“Yeah, I know where we’re going.”

“The bunker?” Lane asked. “I mean did you ever think about how he’s gonna get access to that bunker?”

“His family’s company owns the property.”

Lane laughed.

“What?”

“You believe that?”

“I don’t know, I think that’s why I marked the map,” I explained. “The area colored in is the safe section located between the Allegheny and Appalachian mountain ranges.”

“That whole section you marked is safe?” Lane asked.

“Yep. So, we had a place to go if the bunker didn’t pan out. That area in West Virginia, nestled safe in between those ranges is where we need to be when Ares hits.”

“I’m sorry … Ares? Like the God?”

“Yes. That’s what Julius is calling the final storm. Which is a final accumulation of all that was screwed. It will be the massive storm, the grand finale, but the one that corrects it.”

“Ares,” he said with a nod. “Hence, why he called the project Olympus.”

“Yep.” I brought the glass back to my lips and paused when I felt the tremors beneath my feet. It wasn’t strong like in the afternoon, but it was there along with a loud humming.

After a brief moment of panicking, where I thought about how fast I could get the kids below and the RV into the barn safely with the horse, I realized it wasn’t another funnel coming.

It was a motor I heard.

Slowly, I stood at the same time as Lane and saw the headlights of the large vehicle making its way up the driveway.

It was a truck, and