Purge: Book Three: Last Days Trilogy Read Free

twenty years ago when I was your mom’s age, and when your mom was about your age.”
    “Is this my grandmother?”
    “We don’t call her that, Seth. She has never earned that, ‘cause she never came back. So, everyone calls her Lil. I call her ‘It.’ And all those pictures should be tossed.”
    “But isn’t she still a grandmother anyhow, and a mother?” Seth asked.
    The gentle voice of Eliza Leon called out right before she stepped into the open doorway. “Kyle?”
    “No, Seth.” Kyle snapped his fingers and pointed at Eliza. “There’s a mother.”
    Eliza looked horrified. “Why am I being called names?”
    Kyle smiled. “No. Mother. Mom. You. The woman who birthed the man who started the end of the world.”
    “Very funny, Kyle Stevens.” Eliza folded her arms. “Now if you’re done making jokes, I was wondering if you’d mind if I picked some of your tomatoes for supper. They seem…” She paused and stepped into the shed. “Good Lord, Kyle, do you have enough?”
    “I think so. Michael says no. We need the supplies for his army.”
    “How many?”
    “Don’t know.”
    “Will there be a lot?”
    “Eliza, it’s an army. I’m thinking… yeah.”
    “Well, where are we gonna put them all?” Eliza asked. “I certainly hope I don’t have to cook for…”
    “Eliza.” Kyle halted her. “Before you have a breakdown, remember that he first has to find this so-called army. I’ve been out there, and there ain’t nothing or no one for miles.”
    Still rummaging through the box, Seth spoke up nonchalantly. “Michael and my mom know where to find them. I heard them talking.” He looked at another picture. “At least forty. That’s what they said. Gonna get them tomorrow night.”
    “Seth?” Kyle asked. “Are you sure?”
    “Oh, yeah.” Seth looked up. “I eavesdrop all the time.”
    “Do you know where they’re getting these men from?”
    “My mom said they all live together… because none of them believe in God.”
    Kyle nodded knowingly. “That makes sense.”
    Curious, Eliza turned to Kyle. “How’s that? How can they fight for God if they don’t believe in Him?”
    “Right now, it doesn’t matter if they believe in God,” Kyle said. “As long as they don’t believe in Devante.”
     
     
    Refugee Camp Number SLM-23
    Eureka, Missouri
     
    In a large tent furnished with only a few cots, Devante sat on a blanket, knees to his chest, arms folded over his knees. He stared at a youthful Todd, who sketched rapidly. Todd’s charcoal pencil moved across the paper, and images appeared almost magically. Devante didn’t notice Jack Ross, one of his henchmen, as he entered.
    Jack’s demeanor screamed for Devante’s attention. When he didn’t get it, he tossed a tin plate to the ground. Devante glanced at the plate only briefly and raised his eyes to Jack.
    “That…” Jack pointed down. “Is what you are feeding people.”
    Devante looked. The contents of the plate had spilled. At first it looked like rice, until the grains started to squirm.
    “Maggots,” Jack said. “The food is infested with them.”
    Devante lifted his head with a smile. “They should be happy they are eating.”
    “You can’t feed people maggots.”
    “If they wish to eat, they will eat what is given. They have been told that fresh food will be impossible until the nonbelievers stop bringing death to everything.”
    “That shouldn’t matter,” Jack argued. “I won’t eat maggots.”
    “Then starve.”
    “If you’re all that powerful, then why can’t you create better food?”
    Like a thunderstorm, Devante rose to his feet. “You challenge me!?”
    “On this, yes,” Jack answered, nervously.
    “Then it is the last time you have challenged me.” Devante gripped Jack’s throat, lifted him from the ground, and squeezed his fingers, snapping Jack’s neck.
    Jack’s head flopped to the side like a rag doll. Devante released him to the ground. Todd paused, peered at Jack, said nothing,