Apokalypsis | Book 6 | Apokalypsis 6 Morris, Kate (cheapest way to read ebooks TXT) 📖

The whole place was approximately twelve feet wide by about sixteen feet long. There were cots and sleeping bags, oil lamps, and canned goods. In the corner rested a wood-burning stove, but Roman wasn’t sure if they should light it or not for fear of bringing those things to them.

“Without windows, we could light one of those lamps, right?” Elijah asked as he held his flashlight.

They’d stomped their boots, leaving a mess near the door on a water-absorbent black rug. Nobody took off their coats, though. Wren crossed the room and found a towel, which she immediately bent to one knee and began the task of removing snowballs from her dog’s feet and legs. The poor thing was covered.

“Maybe,” he said. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Roman spied around, trying to remember the place. He’d only been there once, just a stop-off during an ATV ride to check it out with his friend. He was surprised there were still supplies that Terry and his family left behind. They’d probably forgotten about the cabin in their haste to flee. Most importantly, the locking mechanism was just a hefty slab of wood about a foot long that slid over into a deep groove in one of the logs. Nothing was coming through the door.

Jane was shivering and looked frozen with an equal amount of snow on top of her hat as the dog had on her back. He felt bad, inadequate for the job of taking care of her. She wasn’t athletic, so she was still catching her breath. The cabin was surrounded by woods as they hadn’t wanted to cut down much so that it blended in with the forest. There was no pomp and circumstance, nothing quaint or cute about the place. It was merely to rest one’s head for a while or get out of the weather- the same reason they were using it tonight.

“I—I think maybe it’d be okay to light the lamps and a fire,” he stammered unsurely.

They looked at him collectively, which made Roman feel guilty because he didn’t deserve their false sense of leadership in him.

“Yeah,” Wren agreed. “I think it’s safe. No windows. No skylights. We’re good. The amount of smoke that thing’s gonna give off can’t be much. The walls are thick logs. Good, solid door. I think it’s safe. The worst thing that could happen is they’ll track here by the scent of the fire, but they won’t be able to do anything about it. No way to get in.”

He agreed with her assessment as she spelled it out. The foundation was traditional with cement block and mortar, a concrete slab, so nothing could burrow or dig under to get at them. Roman still felt paranoid, though.

“Metal roof,” he added, trying to sound confident. “Not able to be penetrated. We’re safe.”

Jane nodded, but he could see fear in her eyes. Knowing he couldn’t stop it and knowing she could probably see a little in his too, he looked away. Then he and Elijah went about getting a small fire going in the black stove from the stack of dry wood, newspapers, and kindling next to it.

“It’s nearly three-thirty already,” Jane stated, looking at her phone screen. “Won’t be long till dawn, right?”

“Right,” Wren agreed. “This place is safe, though. Don’t worry.”

He watched as she finished up with her dog and went to check the door again. It was the only thing that wasn’t made of logs. The door was steel and also didn’t have a window. Wren placed a metal folding chair under the handle anyway.

“See?” she told Jane. “We’re good. Let’s just get the cots set up so we can sleep a few hours.”

Roman figured that was not going to happen for him, and by the look Elijah gave him, he knew his new friend felt the same. There were supplies enough for six people, so they were well-stocked where that was concerned. The girls unfolded the cots, took down the sleeping bags from the single shelf on the wall, and removed pillows from trash bags. At least they’d all be warm.

A while later, he finally realized they were going to be safe in the cabin and felt like he could relax.

It was nearly four-thirty already, and the others were all asleep. He didn’t think Elijah would zonk, but he finally had. Their soft breathing, occasional quiet snore, and the warmth of the tiny cabin were getting to him. He lay in his individual cot like the ones the others had and pulled the sleeping bag over himself up to his shoulders. Roman knew he wasn’t going to sleep right away, if at all. Instead, he worried that those things would find the truck with their food supplies in the barn. He feared they’d sniff the air and find them in the cabin. He worried Jane was too cold. He worried they’d not make it back to her father’s place. He worried about his little brother, especially if he didn’t make it back. Eventually, the worry became exhaustion, and his eyelids grew heavy as the fire flickered and crackled softly in the small stove. A feeling of safety and warmth came over him, and for just a moment, he could pretend he was still just a kid and at home at his parents’ house, and they were still alive and in charge of his safety. It gave him a false sense of comfort, but comfort just the same, and he slumbered a while in that warm hug of a lie.

Chapter Fifteen

Tristan

His heart nearly stopped when he pulled down the Miller family’s road. Tristan could hear the gunfire even this far out. Abraham had called him three times that he’d seen on his phone when they got back to where service was available. Then there was a text, too. It was simple and to the point: Come to the Millers. Trouble.

That brief message was enough to cause him to speed despite the road conditions.