The Ashes: an Eden prequel Read Free Page A

dare breathe.  I saw what those things did as I made my way to this house.  They’d tried ripping the police car apart and very nearly succeeded.  As soon as I got to the middle of town they were coming out of thin air, leaping at the car with their dead eyes, disoriented but aggressive.
    But Stella is just standing there, frozen, like she’s not even real.
    I brave a small wave, just a quick back and forth motion in front of her with my hand.
    She still doesn’t move.
    Holding my breath, I step out of the office, and make my way back toward the kitchen.
    Every survival instinct in me screams that I should get out of this house and get back in that police car.  But the need to know what happened to my only living family pushes my hand into my back pocket and pulls out the envelope I found on the warden’s desk.  The letter addressed to me.
    It was postmarked eight weeks ago.
    NOVATOR BIOTICS WOULD LIKE TO OFFER YOU THEIR CONDOLENCES IN THE LOSS OF STELLA VERREL.  HER LOSS WAS A RESULT OF UNSEEN COMPLICATIONS OF HER TORBANE HEART UPGRADE.  ENCLOSED IS A COPY OF HER WILL.
    There isn’t even a signature on the page.  Just one other page behind that states that I am to inherit everything.  It’s an old document.  Aunt Stella and Uncle Rich had it written up before I was convicted.
    I knew Stella had been on a waiting list for years, hoping for a new heart to replace the one that had been failing her.  I didn’t know anything about an “upgrade” or TorBane but it sounds like she’d turned into a killer robot freak because of it.
    A loud slapping sound just about makes me piss myself and the pages fall from my hands as I crouch behind a chair.  But I see that it was just a book, fallen off a shelf.  There is a pile of books slouching.  I dart over to them before any more of them call fall and possibly wake Stella.  If she’s really sleeping.  I have no idea what is going on with her.
    Not waiting any longer, I dart up the stairs toward their bedroom.
    My nerves are strung out, my hands are shaking, and I’m fighting back emotions I haven’t allowed myself to feel for seven years.  But I have to get out of here, and I have to prepare.
    Rich was a bit smaller than myself, but his clothes will be better than the gray ones marked CORRECTIONAL INSTITUTION.  I rifle through his closet, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  As I’m digging through the back of his closet, hoping he’ll have a pair of boots that will fit me, my fingers brush something hard on a low shelf.
    I pull out the rifle, careful to keep my finger off the trigger since the safety is off.  I check it and find it loaded.  The thing is ancient, but if Rich had it hidden and loaded with the safety disengaged, I have to wonder if he planned on using it on his wife.
    If only she hadn’t choked the life out of him first.
    I find a pair of boots that are tight but will do for now.  I also dig up a backpack and store one of my handguns in an easily accessible pocket.  Grabbing a few more items of clothing, I silently make my way back downstairs with the shotgun in hand.
    No sign that Stella’s moved, I head back for the kitchen.  I don’t bother opening the fridge.  Anything in it will be long spoiled.  Instead I head for the pantry.
    I load up on canned goods, anything that looks non-perishable.  I also shove in as many water bottles as I can.  All the while I’m stuffing my face with crackers, my stomach growling ravenously.  The backpack is heavy and solid feeling when I pick it back up.
    When I flip the light switch in the garage, the lights flicker.  I jangle the keys in my hand for a second, debating.
    There’s a flashy sports car and an SUV parked inside.
    Speed would be nice, considering what I’ve just seen in the city, but I decide something a little more solid and dependable is what I need.
    Opening the garage door makes me flinch.  It pops and groans as it lifts.  I don’t wait to see if it has woken Stella