Episode 3: By Lantern's Light: Bedtime Tales From The Apocalypse, #3

By Michael Hammor

In a post apocalyptic world a lone girl has to make a difficult decision; give up her quest of personal vengeance and join forces with the Mayor of Huachuca City, or Dance with the Dawn. Read the engaging third installment to the series, Bedtime Tales From The Apocalypse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Hammor
• Release date: Sep 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502278609

Book preview

Dedication:

This book, the halfway point of the series, is dedicated to all my readers. Please be kind and leave a review. Thank you!

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The Present

The coyote watches the girl as she walks through the dark, dusty, streets of Huachuca City, Arizona. The weeds and grass grow thick in the cracks of the ancient pavement. The girl seeks shelter; dawn is coming. The eastern sky is starting to lighten to purple and mauve. After years of neglect and weather, most of the homes are in poor condition and would not block enough of the sun or provide adequate security.

The girl leaves the highway heading east, then turns north on Skyline Drive, passing Hillcrest, visually checking the structures. She pauses at the intersection of Skyline Dr. and E. Hunt Rd. She checks her compass. She stands very still, eyes closed and scans the night. It’s been a few days since she fed and a meal would be welcome. She senses nothing but small animals, most likely mice or rats. Nothing worth the trouble. A few moments later the girl heads east on Hunt Dr. She finds the old army barracks, transplanted from their former location at the nearby military base by God knows who. She pauses again at the gate to the compound, casting about with her senses. Satisfied, she pulls the lock open and unwraps the chain from the post and enters. She wanders, examining each building in turn.

Most are full of various junk; sorted in a fashion. One is full of hundreds of old office chairs, steel, fabric, and leather. Another is stacked floor to ceiling with filing cabinets. The spaces between the buildings had been piled with junk desks and other such items to prop up the sagging fence, making the complex only accessible from the north-facing gate she entered. Judging by the state of the makeshift barricades, they must have been constructed at the beginning of the end or just before.

The buildings are arrayed in a teardrop shape, with a row of two buildings in the middle. She selects the easternmost building of the two. Good choice, the coyote thinks. Centrally located, visibility reduced from the north and the south by the other buildings. Anyone searching for her would make more than enough noise to alert her before they found her. Unless they knew exactly which building she was under. The girl goes back and secures the gate as best she can. With dawn rapidly breaking she worms her way under the building.

The coyote lopes off to the west along Hunt Rd. She stops outside a large block building right next to the highway. Gargoyles grace the corners and burgundy paint still peels from the walls. Old rusted burnt out hulks of several vehicles rot in the parking. Just to the north of the next lot are the remains of an old twin engine airplane, another of the many oddities of this little town. If one cared to look, the sign near the top of the building could still be read, ‘Dusk till ...’ something. The sun crests the horizon. She yips and barks until she sees the garbage and debris blown in front of the battered wooden door move as a man emerges.

The mayor