Operation Z-Day (The Raven Falconer Chronicles) Read Free Page B

happy, you . . .you know who you are.  Make . . . me . . . proud.”
    In the quiet of her small SUV, a trail of tears streaked down from her sea-blue eyes and splashed on her lap, where the denim of her jeans quickly absorbed them.  She missed her mom and on days when life was too much and discouragement clutched at her heart, she openly and vocally spoke to her.  Answers, once audible and very real, played through her head, giving her the assurance she needed to carry on.  She couldn’t explain it and friends had passed the phenomena off as just her mind telling her what she wanted to hear, but inwardly she knew it was more than memories and synapses.  Raven believed a very real connection existed between the ‘here and now’ and the beyond.  Perhaps the dead were only a whisper away, anxious to extend a helping hand or utter some needed advice.  Regardless, Raven cherished the memory of her mother and the still small voice that echoed in her mind, the lilt and tone unmistakably her mom’s.
    “I can do this.  I can do this!” she said aloud, lifting her coat’s sleeve to her cheeks and wiping the tears away.  “Mom, I will make you proud.”  With the negative vibes pushed from her mind, the aspiring author drove on, running apocalyptic scenarios through her head and creating death and destruction for her characters to overcome.
    She thought it odd that her first big break would come from a short story she’d written in her last semester of English Literature.  Receiving an ‘A’ was all she expected from the assignment, not realizing that her professor had submitted the work to a creative writing competition and she’d won.  Raven had actually chosen the Zombie-ish theme more as a joke than an interest.  The agency presenting the $500 reward had also extended a publishing opportunity, contingent upon her writing a novel based on the short story.  The assignment was taxing, taking her creativity to new, unexplored limits but it was a welcome challenge.  Her father had taught her to be grateful for such exercises, ‘for from such, greatness was born’.   Raven wasn’t convinced the novel would be great but she recognized it for what it was, a stepping stone on a path to her destiny.
    As she’d expected, the carbonated drink hit her bladder at about Banff, where she pulled into a convenience store and gas station for a much needed bathroom break.  Her flawless alabaster skin reflected back at her from the bathroom’s mirror; red eyes and parched lips, paled by the cool mountain air, could not hide her impeccable beauty.  She mustered a smile before exiting the less than pristine public washroom, being careful to open the door with a paper towel held around the knob.
    The little shop was busy for an early morning, travelers were buying up snacks for the hours ahead and locals picked up the morning paper to peruse while they walked their dogs.  Raven cruised the narrow aisles until she found a cinnamon bun and small bottle of chocolate milk.  Suddenly the line at the checkout was much longer than it had been only moments before.  Looking about, she noted an influx in early-morning shoppers, some still wearing bathrobes and slippers.  What the hell?   At the counter she was greeted by a smiling, yet obviously bored teenager, who rang her items through the register before saying a word.
    “ You seen what’s happenin’ this mornin’?” he asked, tipping his head toward the stack of newspapers to his left.
    “ No, what’s up?” Raven inquired, reaching for the upper most paper and lifting it into view.  From behind she overheard the start of a heated exchange between a heavyset woman with a bandana wrapped around her head and a trucker.
    “ You don’t need all those batteries.  Give me a couple before I take ‘em all!”  The gruff, unshaven driver warned, reaching into the red basket the woman had stockpiled with batteries, candles and matches.  Throwing a meaty elbow at the